Best Fifty Poems


Premium Member Fifty-Three Shades of Grey

in the uncoloured tint of another everyday
amongst the spit polished waxed apples
tightly packed in burlap bags
they walked like minded
in their own burly wrap
oblivious to the irony
to their similarity 
of the markets round red fruit
unaware of the tragedy
the horror of events yet to come

it will rain metal shrapnel
as human minds grasp
with the purpose of their existence
as in their ignorance
they understand their worth as human bombs
with a belief the heavens will open the gates
with a fanfare and a promised blessing
for their divine act of unquestioned belief

the clay shaped bricks
the black iron metal stairs 
the drum sound of engines
then the lull 

not after

but before 

before

the pulse of the storm
the rain of death

yet this moment captured
this photograph
with man and child in hand
smells sweet
you wonder

bemused

why?

the world travels
aimlessly
singularly

no one 

nothing in the universe

suggests
exposes
even a hint
even a glimpse
not a clue

that would lead

reveal 

an answer.

life in its contradiction
like the proverbial apple
offers both
the miracle
the curse.




09/23/2014

Premium Member On Turning Fifty

A five and a zero.
Numbers.
The big one creeping up,
Five...
Four three two one!
The countdown has begun
The race is on.
Big one creeping up so fast
I can hear the crack of the gun.
The big five... Oh
My mother didn't make it past.
I've been told that that's your big one,
Your own ceiling of glass;
That it creeps into your psyche,
Your parents to outlast.
I've been working for a while
To quit smoking before forty,
Success five years too late.
Five to go, the age that she was shortly.
Fifteen years six months eight days between us
Is as close as we ever got.
I don't need closer now,
I have a second shot;
I almost died with no idea what hit me,
A tragic but not sad how.
So to me it does occur
To slowly drown as your lungs fill
Is to fill a fate 
I would much rather defer.

17.04.08

For On Turning Fifty Contest

Premium Member Fifty Shades of Red

She indulges in sensorial delights
Marked with the color of ecstasy
The passion she drinks is diluted with eroticism
The moon melts with her gentle gaze
Honey drips from her luscious lips
Like ruby flames sweeping desert dust away
Oasis of churning lava explodes within her fiery spirit
 seducing the sun with her golden skin
Far away from Love's imprisonment
She builds her castle of desires
Imprinted with 
                  FIFTY~~~~~ SHADES OF~~~~~~RED

A Collaboration With Liam Mc Daid and Red Fiery


Premium Member The Killing of One Hundred and Fifty Million Years

another typical day, with feet on the ground
ordering the hedge to meet my image of trim
many measured bits fall before the cutting edge
casual thoughts detach, is there anybody in ?

then some mental inner disturbance jangles
with corresponding jig, nerves rip in deeper
following the run of a stalk, the hang of a sprig
so prune the untidy and unwelcome creeper

movement to the side of my eye is caught
something is scared, behind dense vegetation
the fast beating breast of a baby brown bird
frantic flutter flash, demented aggravation

descends to the pavement in fear driven escape
panic ruptures in flood from a half sliced-off wing
chest partly open, feathers flecked red with blood
cupped warm in my hand, young life does cling

grim realisation, fledgling with no hope
pressure leaking, ebbing from a dying heart
but then our eyes meet, answers it is seeking
where's my mum, when can my flying lessons start?'

the deed is now done, the light that shone has gone out
just the salt of my tears at this horrible juncture
the killing of one hundred and fifty million years
and this clumsy ape's evolutionary puncture

undiluted guilt, too much concentration to bear
to forgive and assuage, soothing rational thought
replacement anger and even more depressing rage
bombs target children when careless wars are fought

imagine that child, in screaming terrified terror
in mortal trouble, reduced to core instinct base
an external world has turned your home into rubble
where's my mum, why can't I see her familiar face?'
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.

Fifty-Two Dollars

Fifty-two dollars

Oh how I wish I had fifty-two dollars
to cover the cost of a four-dollar meal,
and pay for an outfit that’s much more in style,
on sale, half the price, is considered a steal

To gather a card for each holiday calling
and write out your name where the address does go,
grabbing a beautiful bouquet of flowers,
that bloom like your smile each season they grow

To purchase a suitcase for that destination,
that brings my heart closer to where yours does wait
while running to catch Monday’s bus at the station,
for Tuesday or Wednesday just might be too late

Oh how I wish I had fifty-two dollars,
so I could be near you whatever I spend
and maybe have change left to keep in my pocket,
in case time allows me to see you again

Eleven fifty-nine

Like your favorite ambrosian juice and long caramel series, there's always an end. Everything has an end. The arcane rainbow, the beating rain, your aching pain. Hunger is a feeling, and to conquer it, you must feed it. 
The strongest things are buried 
beneath the ground, in the dark, in the unknown and to know how much you can hold, you must reach your threshold.

As powerful as the motley moon, it’s not full every nebulous night. Even the purified stars disappear. Your beauty doesn’t rest only in fullness, It blooms in your maroon mistakes, 
your balmily imperfections, and your empyreal past. You do not exist without 
them—hold them like a teddy, sing a pumpkin lullaby and let it be your Nexus. 
For just like you, what holds the trees are unseen. Be it your resin fears or your shrinking folds, your amort traumas or flaming losses, give them a chance to win, 

Whatever you give power to, 
controls everything you have control over.
when something breaks, 
it never returns to what it was. 
It either stays unfixed or is made into something better. Every grain I’ve lost
gave me a chance for something more. 
The beauty of the tangerine 
sea glass lies in the turns of the tumult storms and corpulent tides. Some things aren’t seen, yet create the best results.

For what we become, we dream, and to dream, we must live. Like life, dreams are tunnels and we must sway through. 
In that dark journey lies a vessel—yourself. 
Flowers and thorns both exist in that path, 
but you must know that you are not alone. 
There’s an end to sadness, uncertainty, failure, rejection, and heartbreak. 

But to fully sink into goodness, you must first be buried in the fins of kismet. 
The thick padded clouds show their thighs, but can never stop the skylight or the rain. What I become, I become. What I seek, I seek. What seeks me, answers me first. For all the lives I couldn't live, embrace me in the next. And for all the dreams I couldn’t dream, wake me up in the next.


Premium Member Three Hundred and Fifty Horses

There was a man who had a horse
Means of friendship and transportation of course
Everywhere the man did go horse was there for show
This horse began old to grow

To the used car lot the man did go
Selecting a car with many horses you know
Not knowing it was a lemon he bought
Now on the car he constantly sought

Parts to replace what would not go and
On one side the man would stand
Peering into the broken car with plan
On a stump on the other side

The horse would stand trying to guide
His friend on where the problem did lie
Also he was studying the working parts
Trying to figure out how all those horses fit inside

Fifty Shades of Red With Liam Mc Daid

FIFTY SHADES OF RED

She indulges in sensorial delights
Marked with the color of ecstacy
The passion she drinks is dilluted with eroticism
The moon melts with her gentle gaze
Honey drips from her luscious lips
Like ruby flames sweeping desert dust away
Oasis of churning lava explodes within her fiery spirit
 seducing the sun with her golden skin
Far away from Love's imprisonment
She builds her castle of desires
Imprinted with 
                  FIFTY~~~~~ SHADES OF~~~~~~RED~~~~~
© Red Fiery  Create an image from this poem.

Fifty Pills

My personal physician
says I’m the picture of perfect health
Then he hands me the pharmaceutic scripts
Dr. Miyagi
makes me wonder sometimes,
if he’s a paid health insurance company shill
Seeing how there’s fifty bottles of medicine 
on my monthly HMO bill
Metformin
Deseryl
Glyburide
Lisinopril
Every day the bottles say,
I gotta take fifty pills
But the side effects will give you deadly cold chills
Nausea,
diarrhea
Constipation,
insomnia
Me keeping well 
is profitable to somebody I can tell
Just pop open the caps, 
and watch your thoughts congeal
Bactrim
Gabapentin
Amneal
Indomethacin
Taking fifty pills is waking zombie time
My staying well feels like being sentenced
to a life imprisonment crime
Always feeling sick just to stay healthy,
going to sleep is the only time I feel good
So, I bequeath this advice in my will:
if you wanna die painfully slow, then take fifty pills

Fifty Shades of Black


What’s the color of forced migration pain?
Ask a black person in America,
and you’ll get fifty different slave answers

What’s the silent sound of invisible chains?
Fifty killahurts of black ... 
Aryan brotherhood iron swastikas uniting

What’s the latest “pull the trigger” hate spin?
Fifty states of fascist terror — 
Goshen ghettos under daily thought policing

Who got their Klan thumbs 
pressing heavy on the justice scales?
Increasing the widow population of the cemetery cells
Who got their hooded hands 
casino slot turning the roulette wheel?
Decreasing the charitable portion of the orphan meals

America’s moral debts are in the red
Haughty heifer blame your mounting troubles
on the poor black scapegoats instead

Fifty shades of dark overcast gloom
hanging over the branches of the oak tree
Liberty got locked in a buried room
waiting for   captivity’s end   to be set free

Fifty shades of rejection in vessels of doom
Thirteen colonies 
of spotted lepers will be coming home soon

Fifty shades of black ... 
let the moon eclipse the sun
Fifty shades of stars ...
let the striped prisoners run

Premium Member Fifty-Two Blue Beads

I walked in the local Relay for Life
In support of the Cancer Foundation
I have lost too many people that I love
To this horrible abomination

For each lap around the High School track
You received a white bead to put on a string
Every fifth lap resulted in a bead of blue
One full mile completed was its meaning

I started at 6:00 pm that night
After resting throughout the day
I was determined to walk 18 hours straight
As my contribution to help keep cancer at bay

My pledges totaled one hundred dollars a mile
Every blue bead helped me keep count
I wanted to collect all that I could
To bring in the top amount

Most teams consisted of many walkers
Who walked in shifts throughout the night
But my team was just a team of one
Like on a Spirit of St. Louis flight

At 6:15 I received my first blue bead
A four miles an hour pace
If I could keep this up throughout the event
I would surely win first place
(Not that that really mattered)

At 10:00 I had fifteen blue beads
And was already getting tired and sore
But I blocked all that right out of my mind
For the miles I had left were many more

The crowds on the track started thinning out
As the night grew dark and longer
At 3:00 am I got a second (or third) wind
And somehow was walking stronger

By 6:00 am I was practically walking in my sleep
My blisters were starting to bleed
By now I had a second string
To hold all the white and blue beads

At 11:00 am they announced, “One more hour to go”
Fresh new faces started to arrive
I kept plopping one foot in front of the other
Although I had a much shorter stride

When they rang the bell announcing the Relay was over
I finally sat down to count my blue beads
Fifty-two blue beads meant fifty-two miles
And five thousand, two hundred dollars for this need

They packed up the stages and removed all the trash
While in my warm sleeping bag I slept
Everyone was gone when I woke up again
But the promise to my loved ones I had kept
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.

Fifty Fifty

I asked my heart
Do you love her?
He says love, help, and save her.
My mind wonders!
After all that!!
All that were fifty-fifty 
My heart replied.

Premium Member Fifty Shades of Green

Jealousy flashed in Jade’s envious emerald eyes
She’d spied her ex boyfriend walking towards the pine forest
He was hand in hand  ….with her best friend Fern!
Fern looked stunning in her skin tight mint coloured jeans
Jade wanted to confront them but she bottled out
How could she have been so naive!
Last time she’d seen Fern they’d sat and sipped Vodka and lime
Jade had spilled her heart toFern 
Told her she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her
Now she realised that Fern had cried crocodile tears with her -
Her compassion was just a lie.
Jade could never hold out an Olive branch and forgive them for their deceit


3rd March 2016

Premium Member Fifty Shades of Grey

Mmmmmmmmmm

When it looks THIS good 
Who cares!


4TH April 2015

Premium Member Degeneration Blues - At Fifty

My neck is stiff; my hair has strands of white.
I exercise . . . . . metabolism slows.
yet still I have my teen-aged appetite!
Bad eyes (beneath them sometimes tiredness shows).

But worse, there’s crept upon me something new.
Degeneration of the disc I’ve got.
I’m much too young for this to happen to!
My shoulder hurts; my back’s begun to rot.

No more should I wear heels or jump or run.
I have to take more care and shouldn’t moan.
Perhaps in time some healing may be done.
Such fun! My hope’s for bone to fuse to bone!

So now I’ll shun tough work with good excuse,
and soak in bubbles my old sore caboose.

April 21, 2017
Exaggerated version of problems I began facing back when I was 50! 
Other things since then have made my early 50's issues mild by comparison!

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