Best Fixture Poems
Words in italic by Angeline Lim
Words in regular font by Timothy Hicks
Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the rainbow
Gently wipes away a facade
reveals a layer
hidden within
Pretty just like yesterday
red-hot pokers
Playing fireworks
on lovers' palates
scintillating senses
The shared spaghetti noodle
growing shorter
Sunlight fading
into a sweet dream
aromatic Osmanthus
'tween the slits of enclosed fingers
flashes of a firefly
Smolders of passion
unfolding within
Chrysanthemum mysteries
Instead of the bee
her tender touch
Frozen fixture
all the yellow once in the field
now in the moon
Aesthetic display
of a crystallized Rose quartz
The snowy hills
at this time a strange warmth
morning blush
Purplish Crocuses
pop their cheerful heads up kisses blown
Thinking himself
to be King Arthur
startled butterflies
Surprised Tulips
opening lips with an exclamation
August heat!
there goes the evidence
of the snail
Spiraling down a Corkscrew vine
into a time portal
P.S. Haven't been on lately ... hope all is well with everyone :)
Being a God-blessed Coffee tree
I have a privilege status in my country
Aside from being functionally free
I’m sought-out as Christmas fixture for December glee.
This year, I’m a decorated Christmas tree in an Orphanage-home
And I’ve witnessed the Lord’s love exercised inside compassion’s dome
Along kindness with packed gifts upon comfort’s foam
For youth who once in the streets did wantonly roam.
Delighted am I to behold blessings shared and given
Making abandoned kids receive provisions in their new-found haven
Merrily unwrapping presents tied with care, constantly proven
From donors contributing cheerfully, verily joy-driven.
In my commitment this holiday to signify the Saviour’s birth-celebration
I stand with the conviction to serve my purpose, full of jubilation
Praising God that in my beauteous fortification
Special children courageously smile midst their difficult situation.
“Oh, Christmas Tree…” I hear such song addressed to me with prayer-ray
An ode acknowledging my usefulness in blissful triumphant way
Not only as a Christmas celebration-display
But most of all, to honour God* in my tasks every day.
*Judges 9:9 But the olive tree said unto them, Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honour God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?
December 12, 2018
12th place, "Screwed XIX" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Rob Carmack; judged on 1/2/2019.
POET and POETESS
Eve Roper : The Poetess
Super duper to impress
me, since my entry
to world of English Poetry.
First one to appreciate
me in her contest.
And then onward
I feel special regard.
Also her painting drew attention
increasing my admiration.
Poet Silent One :
Unique poet on perfection.
Also my first inspiration
to explore realm of poems
where he scatters gems.
He expresses my feelings intact
nicely composing: Exaact.
Just to marvel,
always to excel.
He belongs to my next generation,
yet snatched my veneration.
Hilo Poet
with rational intellect !
In PS as I met,
whelmed on his competence of fixture
to match poem precise with picture.
Over all testimonial texture
on each glance
shows elegance.
Charmed with his ideas specific,
sponsoring contest proper prolific.
12/ 11 /22
First Place
Who is your best Ps poet or poetess
Contest by Sotto Poet.
I'm sorry that I'm always sad,
That I do things to make you mad.
I'm sorry that I've lost my hope,
I'm sorry for the ways I cope.
I'm sorry that I bring you down,
I'm sorry that I make you frown.
I swear to God that you must believe,
I love you more than you can see.
I'm sorry that my heart is dying,
I swear to you that I've been trying.
I'm sorry that I cannot see,
much future left in front of me.
I'm sorry that I'm so depressed,
I realy know that I'm a mess.
Writing this note's made me see,
Just how much hurt I've made you grieve.
I'm so disgusted with myself,
I'm so damn bad for your good health.
I know that It's hard to admit,
I've made this such a long hard trip.
I feel like I have ruined your heart,
Like I have torn you all apart.
I have a question for you dear,
And, yes, your answere I do fear.
You said that you missed her big picture,
When you saw, you changed your fixture.
For your sake, love, please look at mine,
Before your heart's put on the line.
I'm sorry that I'm so impatient,
I'm just afraid life's not worth waiting.
I really don't want you to leave,
I want for us to both believe.
I want to once again find hope,
But it will be hard on my own.
But then again if I'm too much,
I don't want to kill all your love.
Feeling faint
Focus
Focus on the feign feelings flowing feverishly, not the foremost flare of fear at first glance
Fated by the flux, fabricated (for once) in my favor and forever grateful
Fixated, her features and figure flashed like fortune in front of me
Fingering through her cerebral files, feeling her fortified front deemed a froward but flawless find
Fast-forward-at least five years
And still I flush from the sight of her freckles
Our faithfulness fell into fiction a few times; foolish fuel for feuding flames
Forecasting fights and frigid nights, but nothing fatal
For we are a formula, a tight fitting fixture
Fixing all fractures with forgiveness and finding ways to fathom and forget
Forsaking myself, my foundation; but further on
The fragile will flourish as we firmly fix our footing, fenced in by our family and fervent felines
Fake? No, this is fact
Have faith in the fire of love
No more frowns
"Our differences are like the pieces of a puzzle called life"
Is there a larger purpose for everything? We can all agree
at least for me, I just can’t imagine there not be, on it I fixture
In a puzzle each piece plays an important part in the big picture
We analyze life’s order and disorder and conclude life’s puzzling
We then by nuzzling the piece which doesn’t fit,
go back and try and force it, and that’s when we find
each piece IS unique, and just like puzzle pieces,
our differences may not always fit together perfectly,
still, we create a beautiful picture when we work together
“Ecstasy” was the first film the Austrian Hedy Lamarr starred in
She was the first ever to simulate a climax on screen,
This may NOT seem like an important puzzle piece to many
Banned by Hitler, riskant and although unseen in Germany
Hedy Lamarr was not only a bombshell Hollywood movie star
A technology inventor of frequency hopping, a significant Role in WWII
We spend so much time looking for one specific puzzle piece, when all along
it’s right there in front of us, important women of history, she made
such an impression on me by far! She escaped from Mandl’s grasp
by fleeing to London, where she broke free from ethic and civil strife
I am pleased I found this intriguing part of the puzzle of life!
*Riskant-german-risque
There was a day when I couldn't speak..
A day when I was small and meek..
I cried to ears that couldn't hear..
Only got consumed by many fears..
My screams were muffled and silent..
My hands couldn't write straight, only bent..
Words that came out had no direct feeling..
I stood on a stage where only seats had a meaning..
Then my voice was finally heard over the noise..
Now I sing in lines that are played with like small toys..
Piano keys and a paint brush are my screams..
But only poetry and love can fulfill my dreams..
Fairways and skylines are my picture..
Just a man who wanted to be heard and not just a fixture..
my spigot
is dripping
slide on an
O ring to
tighten
the fixture
Dear mom, oh how I miss you so very much
You've been gone almost thirty years
Your soft-spoken voice and your gentle touch
I still have that cup you filled with my tears
I remember every time that I cried
You would say to me- "Let's save those tears, son"
I'm still saving them, ever since you died
into the cup, drop-by-drop, one-by-one
The cup rests beside a photo of you
On the mantle next to dad's picture
Oh, mom how I miss you and father too
The tear cup- is a permanent fixture
Since you've been gone my sorrow keeps growing
That cup with my tears, keeps over-flowing
already naked
estimating time
of arrival suggest
coordinates for my
backyard positioning of
my uncoordinated body
leaving a bit of flexibility
in case of a need for any
slight rearrangements i
might need to make in
deed because this is
poetics not rocket
science and in
fact it's a
landing
not a
launch
i see her
here she
comes
right
there yet
they say
they all
look
the same
but to know
her is to love
her so i know
even though
it's the first
snow of
the year
it's clear
in this
stormy
sky that
that is her
that i see
falling
and that
though she has never
seen one she has all
this time been one
as we all are if we
agree to see our
selves as such
but she may not know
since never seeing
snow that each
flake is never
the same so
each is an
individual
so now standing
all this time still out
standing running down
my check list
naked
backyard
craning neck
outstretched arms
frozen so
statuesque
swooning like
a swan
an ice sculpture
needing just
one small
fixture
my bay
door
mouth
opens
and out
comes
my tongue as far as i can extend
it
sticking out as
a landing strip
for her
star ship
body bound
delicate now
a snowflake
which after
all this
time
she
melts
in my
mouth
(Inspired by Carl Jung and his psychological theories)
We, the humans pull words from physical reminders
as a farmer harvest crops
and as ranchers recognize the animals.
See how children make friends with their toys
and often have imaginary experiences.
They believe for a time, a real and living to them
that allows them a world of fiction and fantasy.
We know the animals talk not
but their eyes have the power
that speaks great language.
And we know for certain how
animals differ from men
as they don’t have financial worries.
See how the birds differ more from man
the way they build their nests
and as they leave, keep landscape as it was.
It’s said about birds
if baby bird has human scent
mom won’t accept it.
And see how
the cuckoo arrives in April,
starts to sing a song in May:
Then in June another tune,
and she flies away.
Birds have senses quite clearer than man.
Once on a chilly Christmas morn
I was looking out of the window.
Most of the birds have gone
on this cold dark winter day.
I saw a Cardinal on the tree
brilliantly colored Northern Cardinal
a winter fixture at snow-covered bird feeders.
I asked myself “Do the birds have Christmas?”
Looking something to eat or
planning in advance for a habitat
on the leafless tree.
When it gets cold, it flies south
when it gets warm, it returns
that is what we learn from birds.
Maybe waiting his girlfriend’s message
About when to bring food to the nest.
Real things grow on our vines of Jungian theory
As our mind chooses words and create thoughts.
One well knows clouds and watermelons
As close relatives, kissing cousins genetically
As their molecular identity is almost the same.
As the mind create
The body expels joy and hate.
We satisfy our needs the best we can
Thereby feed the desire to cast emotional dice.
+++
October 29, 2014
Form: Free Verse"
Dr. Ram Mehta
Contest: Words; the heart of imagination by Brian Johnston
The horizon, a fixture of bright lights
A feeling of peace and calm comes blazon
Skyscrapers so tall, which carries delights
The horizon
Outline of the buildings glow greatly on
They sure grow up to the highest of heights
To observe this limelight my heart’s not down
Lights bring compassion, does not harbor plight
The yellow lights glow best right before dawn
There’s no mystery, this is the best sight
The horizon
Russell Sivey
Form Roundel
Only known
Throne
For man
'Tis well-known that any pasta concoction will always me appease,
But I reckon my all-time favorite is plain old macaroni and cheese!
Ah! That simple but hardy fare sets my old taste buds a-twitchin',
When my spouse announces, "Honey, supper's ready!" from the kitchen!
As far as I know Mr. Kraft invented this delectable mixture,
That has over the years become a staple American fixture.
'Tis easy to prepare - on the box is the simple instruction,
And you won't clutter up the kitchen making a big production!
I've sampled exotic pasta dishes in romantic Roma and old Napoli,
Such as fusilli bucati, vermicelli, lasagne, fettuccine and ravioli.
They were scrumptious but if ever my palate you want to tease,
I'd prefer a hefty helping of plain old macaroni and cheese!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 7 in Linda's "Pasta Paradise" Contest - August 2010
Pondering about my existence lying here staring at the ceiling the reality of my presence.
I am dead walking upon the living.
Everyone that has enter my life made promises to love me,
Each promise that was broken took a piece of life from me.
They say we live in the land of the free,
But in this world everything has a price and nothing is free.
People use and abuse you throw you away when they no longer have use for you.
Life has taken my happiness all that is left is sadness.
I walk with the living like nothing has happen, but the universe knows everyone that’s crooked.
The molesting priests the liars, the untrustworthy thieves, murders in solitary.
We all are dead, and they walk this earth right along with me.
To be alive but non-existing, to see the same faces everyday but not speaking.
Having to be touched with no emotion, I am emotionally exhausted shallow exhaling.
Suffocating in silence as I walk through the crowded streets,
No one sees the decay, but me.
Swallow up with misery dehydrates me, and thirsty for the living to notice me.
I walk upon the living sluggish as if I was a fixture of an unfinished piece of equipment.
Footsteps left of evidence that I was here.
No one will notice because no one cares.
I am in limbo death of an unbaptized infant a lifetime of darkness.
Cursed by evil parents’ leaves me damage, I am alive but no longer living.
Condemn to eternal punishment, as my heart at rest I confess I been walking dead.
I am an observer even a spectator feeling like a human gallbladder there but not needed.
A musical instrument with no sound vibrations: a guitar with broken strings playing a silent harmony.
One beautiful blank canvas I am Picasso with no paintings.
A negative that will never be seen I am a photograph without developing.
I am physically walking among the living, and I am not even breathing.
Until I lay in my grave everything will remain the same.
When I am called to those pearly gates I will finely find happiness,
And no longer be walking dead upon the living.
As I leave my footsteps behind me, death walks as a passenger besides me.