Best Finishing Poems

With a stroke of the brush,
A dab of paint,
A portrait, I drew.
Blew into it the breath of life,
Lo! There it stays my Masterpiece


Your Preference Poetry Contest
Brian Strand

Bite size poem No.26
Sponsored by
Line Gauthier...

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Some men's ships stall upon the sea for lack of sails
	For far too many times, I have seen great men derailed
	For far too long, I have heard the sound of David's lament
	O, how the mighty has fallen among the good and the decent
	It's such a...

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Where to start to say I'm sorry to you...
                                  I tried to...

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As I tried to pull her along with me and our eyes started adjusting to the darkness, 
we realized that she was not suffering from some sort of paralysis.  Instead, a pair 
of large harry hands protruded through the sidewalk and were each wrapped...

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When teachers tell you at the beginning of May,
"The end of school is 30 days away!"

30 days sounds like a piece of cake but look at the calendar.
So many days filled with tests and volunteering, not laughter...

So you prepare yourself for what is to come.
Soon...

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I finished a project in quilting,
A rare and surprising success.
I’m proud of this feat
But it never would meet
All the standards I’d need to impress.

My stitches are rather uneven.
One side and the other don’t match,
But I made it with care
And you cannot compare
What you’d buy to...

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It seems like to me,
That no matter how fast I run,
No matter how hard I try,
I'm never finishing first.

In the beginning of the race,
I move out in front of most.
I'm a close second or third,
But never finishing first.

When they get a little tired,
I shoot out...

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Resting days encircling of friends,
Peace gives a closing protection.
Charity seems to keep no charge of wrong,
Only listening ears that breathe silent in reading
Of heartbeat dance.
Friendship's breath,
Carrying wind to cast all trouble to the endless nowhere.
How do I finish what was started in me?
Inner wall of...

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Around this same exact time,
Exactly one year ago.
I wrote a really mediocre poem,
About 7th grade moving "slow".

But, boy, was I wrong.
8th grade is full of waiting.
I've been at my school for 11 years,
This month is just frustrating!

Luckily, there's some "fun" ahead,
Including our 8th grade trip....

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why this question?
why this need to question?
why this need to write about the need to question?

How much of what I do, directly results in what gets done. And how much of what 
I do actually becomes the impediment in what I desire to get done...

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So many lines

And bridge's 

Throughout my short life

I have already burnt and crossed 

These are but a few I dare mention 

Equator
Latitude
Longitude
Cancer
Capricorn
Meridian
Parallel 

Sand
Time
Right
&
Wrong
Or
Down 

So many others I have forgot 

To the point the only line and
bridge I fear may be left

Is the Finishing 1

That is...

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A poem can be written 
In many different styles
It tells of our heartaches
Our troubles and trials

It tells of our failures
Our many victories
We write of our miracles
Or a fatal disease

We share our compassion
Our sorrows, our smiles
We write of salvation
Or the one who defiles

We tell of our...

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Let's finish it and let's win
Everything we can still save.
Let me forget it and begin
Searching for a new enclave.

Let our eyes never meet
And our hands never touch.
Leave me alone, press „Delete”,
And don't say you love so much...

You didn't hurt me, don't worry!
Go away and don't...

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If freshman year was aspirational
and sophomore year was unhinged
junior year was put up or shut up
and senior year is a dash to the finish line

This year’s on fast forward—and it’s for keeps
every to-do list has value-laden questions
things seem sharp edged, single use and intense
it’s all...

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EULOGY OF TEARS

(Chadwick Baseman's Tribute)
By: Artistic poet

Asleep against Earth,
In the whiskey dark, 
Earthly time has stopped,
Existence deletes,
Slide the blade across your face,
Totally gone blank,
The career sink,
Mind on the fritz,
Out of sync,
Disaster seeps,
Closing in on shrink,
The hurt is deep,
Frustrated in my head.

Rethinking on the sound of...

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