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
Categories:
finishing, art, birth, happiness,
Form:
Other
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 loss of beauty and purity that you nor I could prevent
At what point they saw it coming, only God can tell
But surely at some point, could they the enemy smell?
Had I known, as a loving friend, I surely would have yelled
"A way of escape", the Bible tells, perhaps like a ringing bell,
Or some other device to help us succeed where others have failed
May God's grace for you and for me, much avail
May we seek to be ever faithful and much compelled
May we pray continually for our leaders, and others as well
So much is at stake; so much is gained if we dare to finish well
Posted72915.Entry21320PSpCtest,Strand Select O, Brian Strand3P
Categories:
finishing, addiction, betrayal, career, hurt,
Form:
Rhyme
Where to start to say I'm sorry to you...
I tried to stay on a path but fell like so many do...
I struggle to find the right look and words to say...
So in my treasure trove I sweep them all where they can stay...
The pencil is held tight in my hand...
But the letters are lost like grains of sand...
I can't paste together the things I have shattered...
My fingers are bruised and slightly tattered...
So I now group them all and I hope it heals this heart...
For too many years have passsed since this poem made a start...
I pray those sweet eyes are bright and a little less blurry...
And some day you will know how I am very sorry...
written for The Sweethearts "Treasure Trove" contest
by Michael J Falotico
Thank you Linda, this is true and needed to be written...
Categories:
finishing, forgiveness,
Form:
Rhyme
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 about trajectories and ‘landing spots”
Let’s wax poetic..
Produce now, or spend fury on thyself—all else is untenable
we’re past youth and ignorance—your honour’s at stake
Suitors call you by name, like well-acquainted friends
they took your measure—you’re beyond the mark of others
they seduce with money—the future brings liberty and noble deeds.
So don the the garland and prove thyself—take the field
join the battle—now’s the reward—aidless, perpetual toil
with every motion be right, it’s thy shunless destiny.
.
.
A song for this:
A Man of Great Promise by The Style Council
Headstart For Happiness by The Style Council
Categories:
finishing, career, future, humor, judgement,
Form:
Rhyme
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
around one of her ankles.
I am not sure why, but I unzipped my pants and started to urinate on the hands.
“What are you doing”, cried my girlfriend, full of fear.
“Our urine is like acid on their skins”, I answered, not really sure how I knew this.
She stared at me with a quizzical look on her face as if she, too, was afraid to ask
how I knew that – fearful of what my answer might be.
As the skin burned off the large hands, my girlfriend was able to step free and we
started running down the darkened city street.
Off in the distance was a barely perceivable blinking red light marking the
destination I was heading for. Even though it felt like we were running in place and
in slow motion, the red light grew larger and larger with each lethargic step.
Finally, we reached our destination. It looked like a domed baseball stadium
hovering five feet off the ground. I approached a door-like structure and
yelled, “Permission to enter the ship” – only the sounds that came out of my mouth
were strange bleeps and blips.
“No humans allowed”, boomed from the spaceship in the same bleeping language
that I had just used.
“It’s okay – she’s with me”, I responded. My girlfriend took a step back, stared at
me with terror in her eyes – eyes that then rolled back as she started to fall in a
faint.
Just in time, I stepped toward her and grabbed her before she crashed onto the
ground. Her weight and momentum took me down with her in a soft landing with
me cushioning her fall.
It was then that I awoke to find my girlfriend on top of me having somehow aroused
me enough to be pleasuring her in my sleep.
"Oh, you feel so good", she moaned ...only, it came out in bleeps and blips.
Categories:
finishing, fantasyme, girlfriend, light, girlfriend,
Form:
Narrative
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 enough this school year will be done.
-Written by Bridget (who, yes, is finishing the 7th grade)
Categories:
finishing, 7th grade, school,
Form:
Couplet
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 what I sewed from scratch.
It’s a gift to sweet Hadley* from Nana
And I hope that someday she will know
That each pull of the thread
Can be easily read
As a message that I love her so.
*my 14 month old granddaughter
Categories:
finishing, granddaughter,
Form:
Rhyme
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 into the lead.
I get a little closer,
But I'm never finishing first.
Sometimes I'm so close I can reach out and win
Sometimes I feel so far behind that I will never catch up.
I want so badly to win,
But I'm never finishing first.
I've come to the end of the race
I'm done with this game
I'm hanging up my running shoes
Haveing never finsishing in first
Categories:
finishing, dedication, introspection, life, sports,
Form:
Free verse
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 safekeeping,
Walking the ground secured playmate of poets.
"Tag!!!"
From within,
"You are all it!"
In Poetry Soup-
But,
Is the game really over?
Or just journeying on to love ones,
Outside our globe-sphere world of poetic?
P.S.
Follow up to
"Friends"
And
"Hansen! Yer It!!"
Categories:
finishing, life, love, uplifting,
Form:
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.
Yea, it sounds kinda lame, but still,
It's one whole day we can skip.
Everyone's forgotten we have finals.
In only three various subjects!
I guess we can study for the next week,
Let's not forget all the projects!
I think all that I want to say,
Is that I'm super antsy to leave.
I got that scholarship for high school,
Let's go, Falcons! Whoo-hoo, DC!
Categories:
finishing, 8th grade, school,
Form:
Rhyme
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 ?
Does every event have an individuality of it's own ? Like you and I have. Or is
every event, every eventuality, a potential, a probability ? And then are you and I
also a probability, a potential ? So I if I want to get something done, how many
other events must come into synch before the event becomes a percievable
reality ? Even an event like my striking a match must rely on the match being
made, the box being made, the process of the match and the box coming to my
hand, and the moment that I actually strike the match against the box. How many
events must have to be created for me to have chosen that moment. This would
go back to the 'chance' of the creation of 'fire' and to the very birth of the Universe.
So here is the question. If so many innumerable events must have come
together, to give me the choice of striking the match against the box, surely it is
just my ego that tells me that the 'end result' of all those events was my striking
the match against the box. I am obviously just part of the immense, continous
and infinite chain of interrelated events that never ends. My choice, if it ever was
that, is just part of that matrix. Not anything I do, or claim to have done, is the end
result. And therefore, why do I consider myself an individual, if I am merely a cog
in the wheel of the infinite matrix of the events, and nothing that I do is the 'end
game'.
"The journey is the destination"
Categories:
finishing, imagination, introspection, me, me,
Form:
Narrative
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 why more in desperation
than in hope
I keep a pair a pair of scissors on
my person in my pocket
Just incase I hit or run into a brick wall
And block's my final crossing be
that bridge or line
Categories:
finishing, slam,
Form:
Free verse
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 friendships
Or a love long lost
A cold winters night
With autumn's first frost
We write happy endings
Or a sad mystery
We tell of our bondage
And our quest to be free
The poet gets weary
From writing so much
His heart is his signature
His finishing touch
Categories:
finishing, on writing and wordswrite,
Form:
Rhyme
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 your breath
Without fulfilling your dreams, you left
In second you greet death
Finishing the book of life,
Life depletes,
Darkness eats,
Death greets
In a forever sleep,
Face cracked,
Hands stayed stave,
Image turned horrible,
Now separated from Earth,
Weeping around.
A broken heart,
Crying...
In remembrance of the old,
While dreaming youthful years,
Becoming part of history,
In these modern times,
Easily now a used to be
Leaving live behind,
Those among the best of us,
We lay down to rest,
Crying tears of eulogy,
As we miss your past.
© Artistic poet
Categories:
finishing, addiction, adventure, africa, allegory,
Form:
Elegy
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 return.
Such things happen, I'm sorry.
Go your own way and don't turn!
And when we'll finish this play
I'll wish you'd come back to me.
But then you'll be far away.
I'll learn that I can't be free...
Categories:
finishing, life, loss, love, me,
Form:
Lyric