Best Folded Poems
I am incredibility inner today,
like a folded rose, metaphorically speaking
I am totally dwelling within . . .
the world moving outside of me
lost within my own reverie
I have come to the art gallery
where I can lose myself
on the patio I am reading and writing
the warm sun is caressing me
the breeze stroking me
silence embraces my body
I am safe within my loneliness
the world is far away
until . . .
some people arrive, noisily
I leave this place and am
now, lost within the world of old masters
and I roam the corridors of the gallery
a girl alone . . .
and I dwell within like a folded rose
________________________
September 8, 2012
Poetry/Free Verse/Like A Folded Rose
Copyright Protected, ID 09- 419-275-08
All Rights Reserved, 2012, Constance La France
Written for the Standard Metaphorically Speaking Contest
sponsor, Catie Lindsay, HM, Judged 09/24/2012
Submitted to the Standard contest, Late October
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged
Third Place
________________________
Submitted to Standard Free Verse Contest
sponsor, Skat, Judged
First Place
She folded, quit, shut down, bled out
In a horrible, end-of-life way.
With pills
And lots of them
Never fulfilling her dreams,
Never finding her hopes.
Never traveling the road that would have led her
To a purpose that would have saved her
I had not reached out
Because she was on the fringe of my friends
A beautiful woman – glorious brown eyes.
Gorgeous black curly hair.
She was a goddess,
But she did not know
Some had told her but she had laughed
Not liking herself at all, plotting her demise
The cure of the fold
How easy it is to fold
To damage yourself and others
Through suicide
Never fulfilling her purpose
Never finding her dreams
Never traveling the road less traveled
The one you believe in and pave for yourself.
I Folded My Mother Up
I folded my mother up
Into a creased peace of paper
Folding memories into intentions.
Flattening the dementia of unstructured emotions
Into a neat, file-able document.
We arc this abyss; tightening ropes over time.
We are not our worst intentions,
but we are the acts that follow.
Like clobbering footsteps tripping over
broken pavements of Being.
We are the not sum of our categories
or the crimes that we have witnessed
But we are the balance
That keeps us falling forwards without stumbling
Over our own shoelace sense of time.
The angels, with their folded wings
walk on silent ground
They know not whether
to weep,
or wield their sighing harps.
It seems like hearts are stones,
or jewels would they be?
Precious gems, maybe.
Of different hues,
with scattered light.
Encrusted, unpolished
by time and tears,
and by things spoken
and not...
The angels, moving forward--
with their timid halos
and shorn heads-
their soles
touching sacred ground.
156a20612272013r1120
Sometimes, I am like a folded red rose,
in deep sadness I wrap my wings;
and safe I linger as rose petals close.
where all my grief in my heart clings.
Though, a rose is quite divine- the scent blows,
and thoughts of funerals it brings;
the sweet smell speaks to me of death's repose,
with each death my heart sadly sings.
But, there are days when I can leave my throes,
the petals opening to things;
and I am able to dwell with shadows,
finding birds still sing like harp strings.
"I hold a velvet red rose to my nose,
for life is like a thousand violins. "
____________________
November 15, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/Like A Folded Rose
Copyright Protected, ID 11-1406-655-15
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Rose
sponsor, Robert James Liguori, Judged 11/17/2021
First Place
Wish I had half a brain
Bricks to fill the void in my head
Wrinkled and stained
Intelligence is but a soul beheaded
Big words were never an attribute
Amassing descriptions to loneliness
Why can't we just call it solitude
Synonyms alongside this dark fortress
Half wits aren't so bad
Rest assured your worries diminish
Analysis a loyal companion
To every syllable I intend to finish
You start with a paper so crisp and white,
You redo the first fold until it’s just right.
You continue to fold it whichever way,
If only the folds would decide to stay.
You crease it and crease it until at last,
The plane zooms past the Mazda, which travels fast.
But no sooner than it left your hand,
It found its way into the plastic trash can
If I cared more, I would see the dream that should be,
Lanes wouldn’t be filled with worries,
Schools would cater to the educators well,
Institutions wouldn’t make graduates dwell.
Music is dull and paintings are monotone.
No voices are heard, and eyes are closed alone,
Where’s the compassion gone?
Folded papers were all done,
And forever it will be.
Fraud voices initiate to make hopeful people happy.
I care only remorseful late,
One wrong move and found each other a bate.
What color of a man makes a difference?
Leaders who seem to divide the countrymen.
Have we chosen the wrong shepherd?
Might be a carnivore who devours just to lead.
How many bloods let come to shed,
To attain the greatness country thought of ahead?
Wrote millions to catch an eye, people asked now, “why?”
Folded papers are now end up fried.
You
Opened the folded clover
In my heart
And sprinkled your kindness
Into my soul
You
Take me higher
Than any mountain trail
Where the air is sweet
And true
Like the breath of
Your laughter
Echoing
All around me.
I've found a love that I will keep,
Between the sheets
Of paper,
Corners folded, pages marked.
You are, my Love, my love I know
I want you, so
Embrace me.
Corners folded, pages marked.
We are the legend, fire and air,
And all we share
Is precious.
Corners folded, pages marked.
Night folded its temporary home
Each segment removed brought
Light through cracks, windows
Doors until my eyes caught
The light of day, saying get up
Time to rise begin chores
The bed is warm and the room cold
Don't want feet to touch floor
Sunlight's penetration awakes
Even the cold, it now knows
Time is short, soon to be warmed up
'Til night its tent unstows
Left With A Folded Flag
Have been at wall with all of the enemy,
Including one that existed inside of me;
Have begun to prepare myself for war;
On ship as it approaches foreign shore.
Fearlessly landed and sand was flying,
In the air and many soldiers were dying;
Some seem close and others are nearby;
Soldiers that did die are in our each eye.
Blood did drip down upon grungy ground,
And a horrible new home we have found;
Waiting for us approaching growing near,
Which was with so much sorrow and fear.
Harder and harder have to fight and fight,
And would appear with dawn's early light;
Heard weapons fire with bombs exploding;
Up more ammunition soldiers are loading.
Officer dropped by and he now is with us,
With so much sadness heard him discuss,
About or modest son who would not brag;
What we found left was a single folded flag.
Jim Horn
Not sure about either how or
which contest to enter my poem
into. Someone can for me if they
want to. Maybe I can get the next
door neighbor to help me like in
the commercial. Of course you can
do everything for me if you choose to.
I
Yesterday,
I can never get back-
and I have to find the strength when days are black.
When a dark shadow comes I pray,
going inner like a red folded rose;
where grief has froze;
and gone into the light,
never forgotten and always in my heart,
I ask courage to not depart.
And I sit all alone at night,
where imagination takes flight;
and I write.
II
Tranquility,
in a tempest storm-
I force myself to find peace and words form,
I gather up and harvest my serenity;
and from my bleeding pen drips my thoughts
with a heart in knots.
Oh, will I take a chance,
now, my love is on a distant shore?
Will I find a man with valour?
He is misty in my dream trance,
but I am ready to accept romance;
at a glance.
III
Surrender,
I tell myself with tears-
even when I hesitate with deep fears
I remind myself life is full of splendor,
as I look out from my petals crimson red.
Life is but a thread,
so difficult yet full of charm and grace.
Will I find a man who gives affection,
or will I face rejection?
Yes, I can almost see his face,
with love we will embrace;
and sadness erase.
_____________________
April 9, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/'Like A Red Folded Rose'
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1011-621-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Ten Words
sponsor, Joseph May
Third Place
_______________________
36 lines (12 x 3)
Rhyme pattern - abbaccdeddd x 3
Ten required words:(in order used)
yesterday, shadow, forgotten,
tempest, harvest, shore, misty,
crimson, grace, love
His role, sadly, that of “The Little Prince”**
tending to a long forgotten rose
preserving the truth of memories lies
her beauty in a folded crease repose
His love a trembling finger’s gentle touch
of longing etched within the silent eyes
alone within the dusty grip of past
touches the curling edge of timeless sighs
turns pages of a life slow edging black
nurtures each fading petal in retreat
collects every shallow dusty breath
enfolds them in a moment’s mourning sheet
He carries her – his long forgotten rose
love’s beauty in a folded crease repose
(**The Little Prince” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
©7/27/2018
for the Not Just Any Old Rose Poetry Contest
When this body, a shoddy tent,
Is folded and tucked away,
Of no more use, it’s value spent,
Only memories left as communique.
What remarkable gifts did it leave?
Did it accomplish any good?
Will it be known just for its ease,
Or did it do everything it could?
Was it an intense and shining light,
That helped others upon the Path,
Showing passage in the night,
To escape the world’s evil wrath?
Will it be known for moral integrity,
Compassion and solace to those in need?
How many in the sea of community
Will know any of its worthy deeds?
Did it stand against the storms,
Braving opposition that souls be served?
When flooded by nefarious norms,
Did it miraculously stronger emerge?