Best Follows Poems
The leaves are sleeping,
motionless at dawn
Waiting for a breeze
to whisper life into them
Lifting, parting soft shadows
on stray sunbeams
Waiting for the sun to turn fierce
and pull fragrance from them
Leaves trust in nature
sustaining themselves
They lavish, they fall
they become soil
When roots have drunk well
the foliage cannot resist telling
O to be as leaves
To have faith in such
cycles as these
To not forget
what follows Winter.
ALL YOURS (May 5)
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First Place
Hope
ignites
passion's flame
with a promise;
fanning the smoldering embers of love
fanning the smoldering embers of love
with a promise;
passion's flame
ignites
Hope
Love
leads to
happiness,
without question:
it is the pinnacle of emotions
it is the pinnacle of emotions:
without question,
happiness
leads to
Love
joined up writing
joinedupwriting.
It follows on and that's a fact.
Tuesday from Monday and that then from Sunday
and what may I ask has that got to do
with anything?
but you have an answer
you always do.
if I sleep it's to keep the dreams safe from dying
lost to the world in a world full of people trying
to stretch out their days and long past their sell by,
why then
follow on?
Politics like Sticklebricks are catching.
Vote for the one and others follow on
Peter and John,
Matthew and Luke all read from the
new manifesto,
new seeds in the fields where our men grow,
growing to where it is men go.
I'm rambling again and need coffee to curtail
this pain, but I fear sleep is the only release.
you yawn and no one sees
he yawns and drowns out the world.
—For What Could Not Die—
They say true love outlives the reach of death;
then why make war when we must say goodbye?
If wrath can keep thy shadow warm with breath,
why forge another bond before we die?
Thou lift thine eyes into the vacant blue,
as though some hidden dweller waits for you;
and sleep withdraws when evening seals the night,
as if one absent face withholds the light.
I ask the men who trade in roads and bread;
they name each street, yet cannot name thy trace.
The world wakes on; I hear its iron tread,
yet every road goes empty in thy place.
That primal word—Be—called the dark to flame;
thou mayst unmake my world, not what became.
my daydream follows
naked butterfly watching
cold winter sunset
What is life but a fantasy?
When letting go of old wounds
Hurting your memory
Easing the pain of yesterday
Is there anything more fantastic
Than your final destiny?
If you can see
Into the burial ground of time
Smell the flowers
In the arctic hands of a Balinese girl
Who sings to you only
If you dare to kiss her on the mouth
You may want to brush your teeth first
Before she disappears from your embrace
And stabs you in the neck
With a stone age dagger
Don’t worry
You have been alive for a Kodak moment
She smiles
And you will return to Bali
To find your burial ground
On the side of a sacred mountain
The view is excellent
And very private
The girl is not there
She moved on to another moment
She is now in high school
And sits behind me at recess
With a dress and nothing underneath
When facing a light shadows will follow
And cling to our darkness that it borrows
When we find our love broken it's hollow
And its pieces are replaced by sorrow
Paradise is not a place, but moments
And cherished by all, though they never stay
Weathered and worn by life's frequent ailments
We mold a template that emotions convey
Trying to form a universe we see
Creating a world from imperfection
We'll look to tomorrow and to what may be
Come to discover our own reflection
The quiet shadow of life is behind
Never a word, but always reminds
Close behind;
Something there
is gone
when I turn.
Still, it is there,
can feel its eyes
picking carefully
at my clothing.
Each step I take,
it does too.
Each time I stop,
the silence is frightening.
Afraid to run,
somehow,
I know it's faster,
so I walk on.
Then,
a sound I hadn't heard before
crawls up my spine,
breathing, louder than mine.
My heart is pounding now,
mind whirling in panic.
What did it want?
Does it know me?
Then, a hand on my shoulder,
I freeze in horror.
A familiar voice laughing,
says, honey,
you forgot your jacket.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
tiger follows me
denied a piece of flesh
a skeleton
haiku
(C) rajat kanti chakrabarty
11 December 2014
I wonder what life is for
I hear the Foo Fighters live
I see flying cars in the future
I want to be a director
I am a funny guy who follows the rules
I pretend I am Taylor Lautner
I feel very happy with my life
I touch my driver’s license when I’m 16
I worry that I will die of early age
I cry when people screw up their lives with drugs
I am a funny guy who follows the rules
I understand the meaning of life
I say that you should believe in heaven
I dream that I will marry the love of my life
I try to do my best at school
I hope that I will make it through high school steadily
I am a funny guy who follows the rules
one may say a Lune primarily the orbit satellite reflects
The Night was silly--
The silly Night
To judge His stars by Sun,
For the Day had hid
In His Glare,
Each and every one...
''Look'', said the Moon,
''We'd better not
Rush and spoil our case;
Night, you go,
I'll follow you--
Go give this Day a chase!..."
So they run--
The Day and Sun
Whilst Night and Moon, they trace;
But all in vain--
All's too sad,
For none sees others' face...
This Olden Soul, Still Follows That Greatest Quest
Sad that time did so often this old heart pierce
rising ire, setting fire to burn so fierce,
yet within that red-hot cauldron high hopes rose
following enchanting dreams of sweet repose.
Where softest of morns turned to dreaded long days
with a nudge and kick, beauty comes and sashays,
and under moon's bright glow and resplendent lights
hope's depths and lover's heart steer truest joy those nights.
Now time has done its most wicked, damning best
this olden soul, still follows that greatest quest,
reach mountain top and see valley far below
accept all, and let hope's truth forever grow!
Now fierce fires, no longer burn inner heart
spirit finds calming peace, wisdom it imparts.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-21-2018
Sonnet, ( When Peace Is Allowed To Flourish)
Note- Look back to see the dark shadows fly away. For yesterday's sun shone brighter than was first seen. If one finds sorrow and darkness that so betray.
Search again, for that future promise so clearly felt as an innocent teen...
There it is again
sun peeping behind the clouds
made for perfection
the crimson rays fade
falling down to horizon
darkness defeats light
colors of twilight
silence in the green meadows
moon enslaves the sun
Who in the darkness follows me
Now I hear a sound very near
I turn around and almost faint
What's going on tonight is so bizarre
I see weird things all the day
Footsteps and shadows make me prey
Ghostly figures fly the air
I'm about to lose all my wits
I want to race home so fast
Witches cackle right past me
Vampires in flowing long,black capes
Bare their fangs and look so ghast
Who in darkness follows me
Scaring me grisly and silly
My heart is beating like a drum
Around me the air is turning chilly
Tonight, the night is so shrilly
It's the Night of Halloween!
Goblins,demons, witches and guillotines
I am turning sickly and green
It's Halloween Night!
Children in costumes go trick or treat
Door by door to every street
And they carry bags filled of sweets
It's Halloween Night!
Who in the darkness follows me
I see grinning witches and Jack 'O lanterns
I'm racing so scared, as they follow me home tonight.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
October,31,2014