Best Fests Poems
Fireworks dance and flourish in the air
Like the pairs of lovers in the innocent sky
The nostalgic tune plays from the flute
Like the tormented smile of the little brave girl
When happiness and jolliness echos through town
When suddenly they vanish into vacuum in a BANG
Missing like the name of the little brave girl
What will the eagles do behind their wings?
Shirking from the absence of familiar tone
Reinviting the lover's dance to the night
Closing their eyes to sink into the tune
The eagles pack up their bags and leave
Departs their home and leave the present
Leaving that girl with a broken smile
When all the fests drown in the water
The audience shall open their ears in the silence
When all light extinguishes into thin air
The watchers shall open their eyes in the dark
Sacrificing the impossibles in our dream
The pairs of lovers in the innocent sky
The brave little girl with a tormented smile
It is the most humanly sacrifice one could make
There ain’t no two ways about it man,
it just has to be because of you.
Before you came along we could do,
about anything we wanted to.
Man, life was great, life was great, before,
you came along and ruined it all.
There’s Haight-Ashbury’s summer of love,
Newport, Altamont, and Monterey.
And then we hit the road to Woodstock,
and let me tell you man, that was great.
We had free love, drugs, and miniskirts,
we were sure having ourselves a ball.
The Beatles really started smoking,
after Bob Dylan showed them the way.
Next came The Stones, The Doors, and Simon,
with Joplin, Hendrix, and Marvin Gaye.
All of the men burned up their draft cards,
and all the women took off their bra.
There were sit-ins and all-night love fests,
Feminine Mystique, I Have a Dream.
The Hippies knew the right way to live,
there was no end to the fun it seemed.
Black, white, red, brown, pink, purple, or green,
were brothers and sisters one and all.
We had sex, drugs, and hard Rock-n-Roll,
and wore some wildflowers in our hair.
Even left our tracks upon the moon,
man, we could do anything we dared.
Man, life was great, life was great, before,
you came along and ruined it all.
Things might still be a little fuzzy
But that’s how it happened as I recall.
The joyous moments remain even in semesters,
With every night struck in the hostel terrace to see sky full of clusters;
Spending time with roommates and friends is best part,
Jokes during the time of studies creates a healthy atmosphere with great art;
Never ready to share anything with the colleagues,
Eager to beg for Hotspot when the hostel's WiFi gets fatigue;
Canteen's maggi always fascinates mind and heart,
Food in the mess encourage to buy noodles from the mart;
Attending an hour lecture is a tedious task,
When there is no water to energize in the flask;
Concepts in the class are not so important,
Each one has to put their attendance as their only amendment;
We may not be knowing how to copy files in the laptop,
But to make exact xerox of friend's assignment one never going to drop;
Being the junior-most is always a fun,
Wishing to get treats from seniors in the long run;
Refreshment of mind comes with the arrival of fests,
Which brings out the individual's best;
Talent and hobbies outburst in intro,
Day-to-day knowledge make students like us to grow;
The bond of friendship gets stronger gradually,
Tears came out when the journey to college days end finally;
Machines and motors demands to have attention in engineering,
Life@IET is one of the most memorable thing one gets in his/her belonging.
You lurk on the heel's of day's end;
arrive in intermittent degrees while
light is encompassed to slumber,
then you hover
with a subtle ominous gloom.
Alliance with the moonlit landscape
enhances the ambience of darkness.
Distant shadows
beckon curious ones
as the still, silent breeze
cools and calms partakers
of the evening.
You are the night
in all it's splendor:
twinkling stars, sushi bars
neon-lit places, smiling faces
howling wonders, pursuits to ponder
owls to hoot, jazz horns to toot
at weekend fests with
musicians at their best
as dusk blankets
the sky gently
exuding an essence
of atmospheric harmony
and spirited camaraderie
in the lingering denseness
of the night.
When does forever become an option?
Only when one can still find
Inspiration for living
Despite the stale smell of saliva
From the person across the bed.
Consider it better
To regret walking away
Than having stayed with much regret.
So should today the fading footsteps
With the banging door
—the sounds of an almost wedding—
Be a reason for sleepless tear-fests,
Tomorrow it can be a cause for appreciation
Or gratitude for thinking twice.
For it matters not how the heart aches now
For affection
Or lust;
In the end what matters is how
The small talk before bedtime
—regardless of redundancy—
Will always be interesting
Time after time after time.
Pastoral country
Where folks wave to passers by--
Farmers plowing
Exit 386
Wal-Mart, fast foods, and hotels--
Tourists stop
Modern businesses
Of every type one might need--
The short road to town
Refurbished storefronts
With arts antiques and barbers--
Downtown businesses
Houses big and small
Fill the local neighborhoods--
Quiet streets
State Parks, music fests
And neighborhood barbeques --
Entertainment
Outside of town
Beautiful farms and woodlands--
The rural folks
The river rises
Bringing water to my land --
Children in kayaks
The home of brave hearts
Who understand nature’s way --
King and rattlesnakes
The home of the free
Where people are seen smiling--
Live Oak, Florida
ã June 5, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member MY LAND IS MY HOME
Sponsored by: ~ SKAT ~
gone are those carefree days,
gone are those wild days where never bothered about the consequences,
had a care free attitude,
time has come to say good bye to my last year,
as i enter the college i felt have suddenly grown up
i have a responsibilty now,
gone are those exams,vivas, long journal completion and
bunking lectures
no more discussion with professors, no more asking them and irritating them with several questions,
no more college fests, no more fun,
less canteen visits now as all freinds will be separated,
now comes life's daily exam, handling patients life,
taking their responsibility, guiding them with honesty,
knowing everything, everyday will be a new exam, new day to learn...
thankfully, graduation day yet to come, but its not so far though, all these things will be
memories,
then lifes difficult exam will start, no one to guide, out there on your own..
prepared for it, but will miss those beautiful life.
When Fall arrives in Munich, Germany,
Exciting times bring visitors from far and near,
With people dancing, singing, mugs of beer held high,
In halls or tents, saluting so rambunctiously, and
Loving our Oktoberfest with heartfelt cheer that
Lasts more than two weeks with much to see and do.
Parades, arcades, and rides, much like a carnival,
Aglow with dancers in bright Bavarian dress, and
Rides on quaint, old-fashioned pretty carousels,
Together with the varied puppet shows, are fun;
Yes, even shooting galleries to test one's aim.
Laughter and cold beer in mugs enjoyed by most;
If not one's taste, great wines are sold 'neath tents.
Kept close at hand, champagne, cocktails; also
Enjoyed are fresh-squeezed juices if one must abstain.
The delicious food consists of many tastes and treats:
Hearty eaters gather round wild ox roast on a spit, or
Enjoyed is chicken with potato dumplings, red cabbage;
Relished too are Bratwurst, spaetzle, and baked beans,
Ending with desserts like rich black forest cake, plump
Strudels filled with fruit and gingerbread creations.
No one goes hungry at this great Oktoberfest, and
Of many fests around the world, is rated one of best.
To dance and sing with spirits high and free
On meadow grounds in city center, brings joy to
Munich, where feasts were held since eighteen-ten.
Opening with carriages and floats of costumed scenes
Reveals the promises of drink, loud songs, and dance.
Resounding well into the festive night, we sing,
Oh, happy time for us! Let's toast to love and life, and
We will party like there's no tomorrow!
Sandra M. Haight
~NA~
Premiere Contest: Wild Acrostic
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Judged: 11/11/2016
Please clearly print your name
on the front of your mask. Cupid.
(Cupid is having a heck of a time this year. Not to forget all the other mishaps masks are causing. As a public service, I will just reiterate a few -- and please add some to my list as you become aware: CDC has just determined that Masks cause life threatening flatulence; per Fauci's recommendation, Pfizer is developing a new Posterior-mask – asking for volunteers with IBS to participate – Biden promises 100 billion masks by next Thanksgiving – he has issued an Executive Order banning all Chili-fests (Hear that Texas!) – Also, dental colleges in New York and Los Angeles are running dangerous low on masks with automatic floss attachments, Biden promising to order several Billion from reputable Chinese manufacturer in Wuhan. So, we really need to Brain-storm, here at Soup – it is our Civic Duty! Joe.)
Hear my special child’s alphabet features
Eagerly, he mumbles with sheer delight
a-ape; b-bear; c-cat… dear God’s creatures!
D-dove; e-eagle; f-falcon… birds of great flight
g-goat; h-horse; i-impala…all in Noah’s ark
j-jaguar; k-koala; l-lion… oh, what a sight!
m-monkey; n-newt; o-opossum; hey, they don’t bark
p-parrot, q-quail, r-robin; busy in their nests
s-snake; t-turtle; u-unicorn…hiding in the park!
v-viper; w-wallaby: do they hate pests?
x-x-ray fish; y-yellow fin tuna: swimming gaily
z-zebra and zebrafish together in animal fests…
Alphabet "perceiver" he’s become expertly
Reading, sounding, blending letters blissfully!
April 12, 2019
Edited on May 22, 2020
Honorable Mention, "BRIAN'S CHOICE Q,any form,any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/23/2020.
Honorable Mention, "YOUR CHOICE h" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/17/2025.
Far from the madding crowd
I treasure the myths you gone through
Once I walk down the streets of legends
Even the weeping dusts reminds me of
Bloods, who immolated their lives to you.
Oh Calcutta! You live with a pride
For ages you are loved
They valued glory above life itself
When they speak of valiance
And guns are still fired in the air
Withal due respect of those souls
Who deserved their nascence
In the realm of your freedom.
Oh Calcutta! You live with an honesty
Not because of the madding crowd
Because you are blessed with eternity
As she flows with her gentle ripples
That streams the ambit of almighty purity
When I voyage down the river
I breathe the air of immortality.
Far from the madding crowd
I travel down the busy streets of the city,
The antique edifices still provides me with
The evidence of such superiority,
Walls still fends against the political conspiracy.
Oh Calcutta! You live with prosperity
Though affected by the madding political crowd
Once you were ruled by the dwellers
Now your sanity being destroyed immensely
By your own posterity
Living in the land of divinity
Of goddesses Durga and Kali
And they still feigned that they are native.
Oh Calcutta! You live with heritages
Not beacuse of the busy primal edifices
But you have the world known aged cantilever bridge
And over a century living the tramways.
Your marbles are still gloried by the dwellers
And they still wonder the hand pulled rickshaws
And admire for the age old alleys.
Far from the madding crowd
I still come across the pavements by the busy roads
Coins dropping with bimetallic sounds in the beggar's bowl
The vendors hallooing with prices on a rhythmical prose
And as I step ahead, I find my foot stuck in the crud mid of the road.
Oh Calcutta! You still live with diversity
Not beacuse of the poor and rich
But you still have few people left helping you in needs
You still have one culture you were born with
Hindu-Muslims celebrating together both Id and Autumn fests
Joining their hands with the christians when December ends.
Oh Calcutta! You still live with your beauty
Not only beacuse you have the beautiful bengali adorned brides
But you still have the chapters of noetic minds
You still exist with love and peace
Only when I find you far from the madding crowded streets.
Oh dad, you’re great, you saved me in crisis.
You make me able to enjoy juicy healthy spices.
When I fall ill you run to secure me in hands,
And introduced danger of Life and paid off prices.
You provided me knowledge and education for easy rises.
How can I forget you my success are your donation?
Otherwise who cares a child in this modern fashion?
People can’t afford human growth they claim expenses,
You were honest and industrious my mum has mention,
Your time was hard or mine, life has different sizes.
I think sometimes how olds has afforded a big family?
When mum was full time mum for children mainly,
And provided full opportunity to grow everyone’s taste.
Why do we modernise fail to respect and struggle shamely?
Divorce and separation isn’t wise for kind namely prizes.
I care how do you afford gifts and celebrates births and fests?
You never disappointed anybody and care for all lists.
I am boring and selfness, can’t afford a bunch of flowers,
Dad’s day comes and goes but feeling lives in the rests.
Time plays a part and love struggles with different Hisses.
Summer indeed is a blessed season from God
Unlimited with opportunities toward great life-building
Moments for body, soul and spirit’s wellness-overhaul
Merriment midst reaching-out sessions during revival-pursuits
Empowering… yet exhilarating, while enjoying nature’s bounty
Rejuvenation-triumph thru sports fests along prayer meetings’ delight.
Breathtaking faith-adventure reigns in summer days
Letting go-letting God lessons prevail every spiritual retreat.
Endurance is proven thru swimming laps or mountain-trek ascent
Sunbathing becomes invigorating with sleep’s blissful pleasure
Social bonds are strengthened with fellowship love-ties
Inspiring and instructing others thru volunteer-work
Nourishing self while nurturing relationship with the Lord
Guided by the Sovereign hand* toward victorious journey ahead!
*Ezra 7:28 ...I was strengthened as the hand of the LORD my God was upon me...
June 15, 2018
Edited on May 28, 2020 (We miss this year's Summer events in our place.)
As if a child should understand an adult’s muddle,
putrid oil slick puddle,
the dreadful pain we foist on wide-eyed offspring.
Robotic elders crush with rigid slabs of Portland censure whatever spark remains in those tiny rosebud cheeks before their prime.
Those innocents should never have to wrap their nascent minds around the wanton desecration of intertidal lakeland wetness gradients,
the callous douse of velvet purple algerita berries,
blighted by the stark timbre cloud forms
that recklessly pour bile on every genus.
The rug rats at our feet may never know the joys of sap-addicted sugar gliding nocturnal possums, whose acrobatic tree to tree mirror ball exploits mock Isaac Newton,
or the kinkajou of tail grip fame who flaunt their tan glow wooly fur coat in broad daylight,
or the dawn to dusk fennec fox, that doughty eagle owl and jackal dodger whose kissing cousin dens pockmark terracotta forests. But not alone in wider worlds are children being deprived.
A heartless milieu also asks our clutch and clan to dwell in
alloy girder mousetraps, those pale decor rat infested tumble downs gouged out by scrimp and scrape rust bucket caterpillars.
Beyond belief we tolerate the nick and hoist elevator,
that pressure cooker transit flight abduction of the harried wage slave parent,
those cotton garment dress code senseless
dragonfly stand-ins that hover in mid air.
There’s every chance we’ll leave our nursling’s ire to future bands of mutant stem cell rockers who are duty bound to sculpture rimshots meshed in suckling chimes,
when validating rawhide rattle chainsaw fret board anthems
at crowd mosher mud fests,
where rivers of apocalyptic visions burst the bank.
If only grown ups listened to that inner vocal quiver that we
may not yet have cast into plastic resin folly for the generations weaned in toxic smoke rooms,
we’d pollinate a luscious fairground acorn dotted garden with childhood zest its one and only buzzword.
A sweet treat gift with natural flavour pending,
eternal life for baby planet daisy chains of tender petal linkage,
who‘d finally experience pure clutter free environments,
an eco world that values new born thirst for natural realms
Sunset Bay
Waves prancing in relays
On crystal-decked tips, the late dusk requests
To end a thrilled jig of lively water-dance fests
While circles of ripple slowly ebb in spurts
Yet shore’s mild notes commune
With lovers whirling ‘neath a full moon;
In bay’s tunes.
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