Best Explaining Poems
I need counseling and you are a therapist.
I need support and you hold me up.
I need acceptance and you are non-judgmental.
I need love and you give more than I ask for.
I need to talk and you are a good listener.
I need to listen and you always know what to say.
I need to be quiet and you hold my hand.
I need you and you are there for me.
This is what I mean by everything.
Tired of explaining (a twist from ND. poem)
Ignoring the presence of my stillness==
As you walk with bitterness==
Your radiance is no longer true==
A melody with seduction over due==
The song so bad wiped out by you==
Rotating my abdomen==
From the soul==
The worms inside==
They all die==
Under your control==
Separating the way==
Is as if though==
All the beauty in the world==
Up and lived==
You are more than I need==
Drowning in my own abyss==
Judging you one==
Right after the other==
A hellish so profound==
Revelations passed so suddenly==
Expression of limbo, I replay==
The revenge==
The revoke==
Suffer catting my oxygen==
They illness==
Then lifeless==
They identify==
Then disgust==
Never play the sensitive==
Feel my needs==
Like the wound full of abscess==
A sore to never go away==
Yes like the illness==
Then lifeless==
Dropped addict==
These shivers down my spine==
Identify, escape, abuse of certain==
Announcing it even more==
Proof that I am found==
Out of love==
The mind finally receives==
Revolution with open eyes==
The heart is trapped to proceed==
Cleverer than the open skies==
Old sweat glands in my hand==
Retiring the mind==
The best of my heart has no stand==
Died from your retrieving cries==
Advancing to my knowledge==
The darkness that you lend==
DISCLOSURE==
to==
In the depth of your eyes ==
I run before you hypnotize==
Oblivious to the Valley of your wits==
Refusing to relive the song==
Feeling that are gone==
Never will it feel right==
I still feel the rotation==
Exhale went out your soul==
Exiting far from sight==
Revoke an end to your light==
A kiss of death to your good night==
A kiss of death to your good night==
(To: Nathan Dilts my way of explaining love over due)
If I could only steal a moment
One precious beat of your Heart
Would I be able to show you
Where would I start
How can I presume to explain Love
There are no words you have not heard
Perhaps then a Kiss, but then again
Isn't that a bit absurd
Where else would I Kiss you Dear
There's not an inch of you not smothered
And I've written the ink out of pens
I fear I've left not a word left uncovered
How then do I tell you
Or is there no way to show
Maybe all I have to do is nothing
Because you already seem to know
Love cannot be explained in a single moment
Nor the beat of anyone's Heart
So I'll go on Loving you every single day
Until death do us part
© 2011 Kevin Stock
This reader is aware, that fall is in the air.
Astronomic poems, are simply everywhere.
So don't be surprised
If your words are apprised
By a "triple-wowsa" I left there.
In the comment section under your work,
My "triple-wowsas" do often lurk.
My highest praise,
To express my amaze
A duty which I will not shirk.
I wish I could write a glowing review
With some jargon both bright and new,
But I'm just a guy
With only one eye
So I hope "triple-wowsa" will do.
You may think I'm crazy
And a little bit lazy
But I'm sincere
Way over here
Triple-wowsas are never hazy.
THE COMMON COLD
Have you ever felt like you were going to die?
And you knew good and well the reason why;
and as you got sicker and sicker;
and the heavy gloom grew thicker and thicker,
it began to seem like the very end,
so I decided to call my very best friend.
And when I called him I told him
"I think that I will never see
anything again as lovely as a tree;"
and he sighed because
he himself was feeling a little sad;
and he said "Cheer up, friend,
it can't be that bad!"
And I told him for sure, for sure it was.
But I got no sympathy
as an injured person does;
and I started to feel bent out of shape
and even mad. E-gad!
And I began to think that that friend of mine
was a bit of a cad.
And then suddenly my temperature broke;
and I cracked another one
of my world famous jokes;
and my friend laughed and snickered and told me
he thought it was one of my finest;
and I said no it wasn't
and thanked him for his kindness;
and then when I hung up my phone,
I smiled, sat down and knew that I would live forever,
because a dying person never has enough energy
to be that clever.
Janet Marie Bingham
Darkness falls, the night is creeping in.
A haunting feeling crawls on your skin.
Put the kids to bed and lock the doors.
You do so carefully, sliding across the floors.
There is something about tonight I just don't like.
If it is ever going to happen, tonight it will strike.
After a while they check on the kids, kiss there foreheads.
They pull the covers tight over them, they are secure in their beds.
Eyes widen with every little scratch and creak they hear.
Blood rushing through their veins as if they were pumping fear.
They look at one another, minutes seem like hours.
They stare out the window, can't see anything in the snow showers.
Eyes begin to get heavy, but I must stay awake.
Because my family this creature will not take.
A short while later, they hear something on the roof above.
Dad grabs his shotgun and holds it tightly with his glove.
All of a sudden they see someone, he is caught.
The dad gets him with one fast draw and shot.
The kids come running and instantly drop their jaws.
What did you do dad, you forget its Christmas, you killed Santa Clause.
Ohh, I knew I was forgetting something about today.
Well kids merry Christmas, we got you 8 reindeer and a sleigh:)
I had gone to this spot to pray
on a mid-afternoon street in the city
so busy the cars rarely make time to drive
as they sit for hours and hours on end
where I got the vague sense of familiarity
commonly experienced cloud-watching
when you see a single cloud, all alone,
way way up in the endless sky you just know
is about to change forms from a beach-ball
to an elephant then into an elephant balancing
a beach-ball at the tip of its trunk
before the sun swallows the whole dang circus whole
right before a thunderstorm rolls in
to remind you that without a dang umbrella
- of potential spots you could have come to -
this particular spot is good a pick as any;
so I sat down on the spot and crossed my legs
like a proud Native American
(or disgusting American hippie, depending)
pulling a squished ham sandwich bleeding
mayo and mustard into its proper plastic body bag
from my back-hip pocket and in one bite
swallowed the whole dang thing whole just in time
for the 2:30pm metro bus to repay the favor
to my forehead, which does feel better, thanks, God,
but you’re an a-hole for even asking.
5/28
Innocently shocked, they surveyed their new abode
midst warm welcome of strangers introducing themselves
sweetly assuring, “We are your family --- starting today.”
Such captivating look would soon grip my heart
when they candidly confronted me with this question I found it hard to explain
to kids, aged six and four… “Why are you now our Mommy?
With truth I prayed to impart, my soul reached out to them
cognizant of their status as siblings among our orphanage residents...
I let them feel my care, and that of my fellow staff along our reverberating: “We love you; yet God loves you so much to bring you here.”
Their understanding vis-à-vis home verities has been enlightened
through bits of life realities along Scriptural precepts:
their exposure to joyous relationships as well as delight for togetherness
bonded with the Lord’s compassion beyond blood and gene’s kinship…
Such enabled them not to be ignorant about family* essence.
*Psalm 68:6 God setteth the solitary in families…
October 2, 2020
3rd place, "The Unexplained" Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire; judged on 10/2/2020.
Let's understand that Love is not invented...
It is ready...
Words are not what concretes It to be...
It is the essence that is not seen...
Love does not follow rules,
it is an anarchist by nature ... I
We need to feel it ..
So that we maybe be ready
to live its immensity, its Full intensity... !
!
PS. reading a poetess girl friend, Juli Lima
I waited for love
Literally staying up
Moments after chasing bucks
I’ll FaceTime you a bunch of times
You gave me butterflies
at first I seen the worm in the apple
So I didn’t appreciate you when I had you
Now I’m decreasing my value
Women see I trashed gold
Now all the kids that thrift
gain opportunities to double bag
a queen in plain clothes
Every 6 months I change phones
In the morning
When you smile
And snuggle closer;
I cannot find
Words to say
What you make me feel.
I can hold you
In my arms,
But you mean much more
Than I can say.
I will try
Instead to show you.
Fascinated
Just by you.
A universe for
Me to explore,
In a girl
I cannot help but
Love
In our nation’s final, fatal stages
Before our country falls
From cowardice within,
Our daughters die for soldier’s wages.
And when the bugle calls
Out taps…it sounds our sin.
Like the mist of an early morning rain
and the love of an older dog
Like the spontaneous hug from a passing child
and coffee from a mountain fire
Like a call from an old retired friend
and the memory of one who left
Like those boots now broken in at last
and a map whose roads have changed
Like the smell and taste of a memory lost
and not the mileage but the miles
Like a rainbow reaching out at dawn
and the distant whistle of a train
Like a promise made for its own sake
and a marriage not on loan
Like a burden once it’s lifted free
and the present not the past
Like a thing put off, put off again
and the reasoning unknown
Like an hour spent inside a dream
and a wish that’s more than hope
Like your name when called to stand your ground
and the courage that’s required
Like a song you’ve heard a thousand times
and whose words still feel the same
Like a river rushing toward the sea
and a boy who knows its mind
Like a favored son to share your name
and the bond to keep it so
Like a reason that you can’t disclose
and the one who never asks
Like that girl who keeps your faith alive
—and your heart forever free
(The New Room: April, 2021)
Drinking tea (cha)mate (herb mate) in the bombilla, is a tradition in the south of America, mainly among the gauchos (Argentine, Brazilians, etc)
The bombilla is filled with the herb mate heated in temperature palatable and each person sucks the infusion little by little and passes it on to someone else... In this case, my girlfriend took her mate and
passed me first the bombilla, (so called utensil )
then I sucked
tea mate with some of the taste
from her mouth... That's how I created
my little poem...
PS Each bombilla contains an infusion for 10 sips, so it passes to 10 people at a time, then it is filled again and the passage from mouth to mouth repeating again...
Lying cheating
Stealing Fleeting
Anger Anguish
Hating Deceiving
Blurring Bending
Shifting Twisting
Binding Bleeding
Fighting Failing
Hopeful Hoping
Tempting Believing
Future Unknown
Budding Beginning
Reaching Grasping
Healing Forgiving
Living Laughing
Newly Learning