Best Faces Poems
Friends with names, some with faces
all with voices to be heard
With a pen or a keyboard
and with thoughts from which we learn
Friends no less, from a distance
all with feelings meant to share
Welcome songs in the silence
when it seems no one is there
Words are spent, some are lavished
all are welcomed through the day
In this world, any kindness
is worth more than I can say
For Soupers
The routine ride home from a neighboring town, seemed different today.
As I glanced at the dirty, sandy spot left on the usually spotless black leather seat beside me,
I felt almost ashamed of the warm smile that crossed my face..
But that's how I felt.
Content some how.......
No radio blaring as usual. Just thinking of Ernie and his stories.
Wondering what that look was, I saw deep in his eyes.
Scared eyes..yet not scary. Eyes that had seen too much maybe, who couldn't seem to find home.
The cardboard sign simply said east. He was sitting atop a dirty, dark roll of gathered belongings at the only stop light in town. It was one of those sunrises that make you feel small. Pinks..purples..glassy blue..sun rays shooting through scattered clouds like golden fingers pointing straight to heaven. As I sat waiting for the light to change, I noticed this guy noticed it too! I don't see many hitchhikers in our small town and the words pounded into my head since birth kept ringing over and over. Never talk to strangers...don't do it!
Ernie is sitting next to me holding his dirty rolled up blanket protectively in his lap and
I'm at the drive through at McDonald's. Three sausage biscuits please..I take mine and hand the bag to Ernie who looked like a skeleton lost under layers of old wrinkled clothes. Kind, hollow eyes thank me as he rolls the top of the bag down tightly and asks if he can please save his for later. I can't speak and hope he doesn't notice tears running down my cheeks. He must , for he breaks the silence by telling me of his years on the road, although I didn't ask. He speaks intelligently of the sights and places I've always intended to visit some day. His words bring to life the adventures of meeting all kinds of people - good and bad - all over the country, but Ernie didn't tell me why he lived life on the road.
Later, he shook my hand and said goodbye.
As he stood there, that last look we shared..he smiled - I cried.
I thought I was going to help a lonely man, but he helped me........
©Donna Jones
10-16-2013
If I could have the enigmatic face of Monalisa,
If I could be that face which carries secret in a smile,
then maybe you could be My Leonardo,the artist in my time.
If I could be the Queen of Egypt,Be Seductress Cleopatra,
Have Her power and Her strength,then maybe I could be
wrapped in a carpet,be Undressed by Julius Caesar's hands.
If I could be the beauty,Helen of the Troy,then maybe ships
would sail towards me,and be abducted by men's joy.
If I could be the Goddess, of passion and romance,
If I could be the sensual Aphrodite,with Ares have my chance.
If I could have the courage,be brave as Joan of Arc,
then maye I die burnt at stake, wins freedom in my heart.
If I could be these many Special Women,If Only I could be,
then maybe, yes,just maybe,You can be,You can be'The Poet'
who dedicates a sonnet, just for me.
The Full Moon Makes Faces Tonight
Gazing out my picture window on this darkest of night,
The full moon shone sky-high with the brightest of light.
I spied its eldritch contours and its dark areas whole,
As this lucent orb made faces at me from pole to pole.
Methinks these faces were for this special moment now,
A teasing fantasy-illusion for me to wonder why and how?
This full moon had two eyes stone-set from East to West,
Giving me a very comical-look whilst winking all the best!
This lunar illusion silently sang a sly aria full of devilry,
As it mesmerized my senses replete with all due revelry.
As I studied this comedic-faced orb far from our Earth,
I felt its true spiritual intent was one for a cosmic rebirth.
The full moon made its curious faces on this darkest night,
Whilst I smiled big as I basked and bathed in its lunar light!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(June 14, 2017) (Couplet)
Life is but a winding road
Filled with faces along the way
Coming in and out of your life
Coloring your every day
Yet most spend just a moment
A fleeting glimpse before your eyes
They giveth not and taketh not
And cause you barely a rise
And some stay just a moment
Earning a thought upon your mind
Triggers for countless memories
These are the most common kind
And fewer still stay even longer
And commune with you a while
Leaving behind dearest memoirs
Of sweet tears or a special smile
And rarer still those faces grand
Building mansions in your soul
These are the faces of a lifetime
Whose virtue you do extol
And know that you simply are
A feature filled soiree
A portrait in collage
Of the faces along the way
The air thick, like a sweet sticky syrup
Sirens wail, polluting the air with chaos
Voices screaming, obscenities, obscure messages
All the while little children play, in pothole streets
Faces everywhere, stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
Cries in the light of day, bloody hands wave
Freedom, Choices, a single right
Lost trash, food piles, scattered along roadways
Dirty shoes, dangling over power lines
Faces everywhere, stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
Ever searching, an invisible cape, a quick escape
Smells of rotting food, bloated flies
People who cant stop licking their lips,
twisting their hips, and geeking
Car alarms screaming, like a symphony out of tune
Faces everywhere, stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
So hungry, empty stomachs, empty hearts, empty minds
Seeking to fill, to satisfy, lapping up milk and honey
Praying for rain, to wash the stench, to hide the sin,
away…
Lost, undone, alone, without love
Faces everywhere, stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
Writings of love, of peace, scatter in the rain and wind.
An iota, a seed, a shining light, dimly lit in the night
People gather, curious, watching, many hoping
A gentle voice speaks living words, of life, a better way
Faces everywhere, stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes
It’s early spring, and tulips are in bloom;
as folks come out and shed their winter wrap;
the season comes alive from nature’s nap,
and warms the air, adorning outdoor room.
The birds all molt revealing spring’s proud plume;
their springtime songs of mating overlap,
and in the distance, sounds of pecker’s tap,
and tender leaves appear from winter’s womb.
But April brings such savage springtime storms;
tornados, hail and lightning cross the land,
and people must seek shelter once again.
Yet when the storms are gone and May sun warms,
and flowers come to life as nature planned;
the spell of springtime spreads from hill to glen.
March 15, 2018
"Changing Faces"
she stole my beau in Italy when we were both quite young,
a flower 'twas waiting to bloom; a love song left unsung,
she weaved her magic spell on him with her soft feminine wiles,
her grand manipulation proved a master of disguise in smiles,
she selfishly thought of herself and crushed my broken heart,
in Italy, we had laughed and cried and suddenly grew apart,
throughout those years I wanted to return for sweet revenge,
because my first love was my life; I wished hers to unhinge,
instead, I wrote a little note, sent with a basket of cheer,
remember KARMA comes around; kiss my petunia, dear.
startled, she picked up the phone to thank me for the gift,
she now was a changed woman, who understood how swift
the hand of Fate; passing of Time, can instill in a heart,
compassion and forgiveness as maturity did start
she offered invitation to visit our old stomping grounds,
burying the hatchet among familiar sights and sounds,
she was an excellent hostess, who cherished me as a friend,
her beautiful persona moved me to make amends,
so once a year we meet in love, enjoying family,
for nothing can replace a true friendship's harmony.
*For Vienna's Let Me Have It .. then Kiss My Petunia eeContest.
Soon we were face to face
Putting our pasts behind us
Our tomorrows a different place
Growing tall like quercus
Blessed tomorrows became caressed
Like words we became a sentence
Voiced grammar so de-stressed
A new adventure soon to commence us
But isn't life a ***** nipping at our heels
You can't knock such hungered persistence
Irrespective of whomever feels
Now we're just faces in life's distance
The days so few and far and in-between,
Loneliness I never knew has captured my soul,
The sweet smell of her hair I remember so well,
But even with her, I was never quite whole.
My nights too are lonely and blue,
Memories fading into the distance again,
How do I abide when all my youth I have spent,
In taverns and bars with occasional friends.
Nobody warned me I'd be sitting alone,
I guess I always figured, life just goes on,
So here I sit contemplating my fate,
Wondering all the time where did I go wrong.
Interpreting meanings that make no sense,
Floundering my time in various places,
Never seeing the light that shines so bright,
When I look into the mirror I see different faces.
There is a spark but it will not ignite,
There are steps but they have no spring,
Lost in the ocean just one of mankind,
Like a prayer that cannot sing.
/|\
( I SEE SO MANY FACES )
How much would you pay for a smile today?
A few pleasant words will prepare the way.
A smile that’s unexpected will never be rejected,
A ‘Hi’ that’s quickly tossed will never be uncaught.
I see so many faces intent on going places
Without a friendly wave, in a mood that’s sadly grave.
I can tell just how you’re feeling
By the lines between your eyes,
I can see a smile beginning
Before your tears can dry.
So help someone who needs a lift
A happy face can be a gift,
Share your smile with someone blue,
That someone could be you.
Loitering lonely in a crowd in London
Separate, apart, different from the rest
Because of change of culture and taste
Can’t relate or fit in their world within.
In the whirlpools I gyrate in the middle
Things required to be finished before dates
For the dead and sick sending courtesy calls
Or Greetings for birthdates and weddings.
Sitting depressed or standing in my balcony
On the ground I see the last year’s leaves
The twigs are black and cold is dry & itchy
Think of failures and not of joy or victories.
In between the average sadness and joys
Only thing remains is solitude to enjoy
Of which I don’t see any remedies or cures
Not even bitter pain pills or lenitive lures.
Loneliness wearing away the idle mind
Like a grain of food a hungry ant finds
Hearing the temple-bells I feel to shout
“Hey I am alive, alive in this my lonely rout.
Our birds have flown away for a better lives
We stare at each other no sex drive but survive.
Dt. 10/10/13
===================================
Dr. Ram Mehta
2nd place win
Contest: Faces of Loneliness by Frank H.
I woke up this morning
To smiley faces rolling
Up and down the street
Chasing after me
My bad disposition
Has them at my heals licking
Trying to give me
Much more than happy feet
I bring an umbrella
As they're also in the weather
Smiling down on me
Coming down in sheets
They say if you can't beat em
It's best if you join in
So I stopped after awhile
Stood real still with great big smile
That's when my attitude
Right then and there improved
For granted I'd been taking
All these smiley faces
Now I wake each morning
Join the smiley faces rolling
Up and down the street
Hoping you will smile with me
When the campfire’s out and you try to sleep,
But things don’t seem just right—
You toss and turn on that ol’ hard bedroll
And see faces in the night.
It just may be dreams or a sense of guilt
That now keeps you wide awake—
It may be bad stew or a wrong you did--
A friend you had to forsake.
You shut your eyes tight and let darkness come—
Pray those faces don’t appear—
But they always come and silently speak
To your conscience and your fear.
You see father’s face like it was those days
And wish you’d both had more time—
To ease all the things that then stood between
Before he died in his prime.
And then there’s the face of your bother Tom,
Who worshipped you like a God—
Till he had fever and you laughed if off—
Then buried him in the sod.
But night always brings another dim face
Of the girl that you loved first—
Before she went and married someone else,
And how your heart about burst..
So when the dawn comes to strike you awake,
And with tired relief you rise—
You still see those faces in sun’s red glare
And know part of you yet dies.
Too soon again bright campfires now burn low,
As the sunset still brings fright—
For you know that sleep is not a good friend
And brings faces in the night.
I remember you in all your faces
from the photograph of a young girl
surprised at being looked at, and later,
Sun brown and strong over the garden hoe
or throwing your head up to one side
around the nanny's rump to milk her.
I remember your white face in the doorway
when you came, night-dressed and uncombed
to tell us to settle down and go to sleep,
The smiling face as you put the lemon pie
to cool just inside the back screen door.
My favorite! I said. You said you know!
Best of all was the face that stayed
indoors while we stripped the hollyhocks
of reds and pinks for dancing ladies.
In the quiet afternoon, our small voices written
on the warm green breeze.
Then came your grandmother and great-
grandmother faces, made up of babies
and children and of the old women
Who used to be your daughters.
Now one more pose
one more shutter click.
Move slightly to one side, just out of
camera range. See the set?
The scene plays on; the mouths are
Still moving. You can look at it
from this point of view:
all glass and the sound of a bell.
Take up the shimmer and enter the sound;
everything is possible. You and I
will be girls together, hold hands and
Swing one another in wild circles.
It's all right; you know all the others
and the rest of us will be there soon.