Best For Certain Poems
(Inveniam viam)
Far beyond these eerie things, where limits have no scales
Fish are replacing gills, with turbine aerated tails
Sea level’s losing all meaning, for the humpback whales
Ships piggyback them, harpoons syphon wind from their sails
Today I woke up early, lately I’ve let dreams flow
Into an abstract yonder, where visions often go
A wave came over me, up from my downy pillow
When tidal forces passed away, many moons ago
As the ocean waved goodbye, I called for an encore
Behaving like a poultice, the beach drew back old gore
You could’ve bowled me over, sent ripples to my core
Never again I’d sleep soundly, near this bloody shore
After a fretful lie-on, facing truths with each turn
My sundial running on empty, stars can’t always churn
Moribund in dimness, til an old spark can return
Reigniting glory days, (let supernovae burn)
Overhead the vacuum grows, just to make more space
Stretching my dysmorphia, to align with gods face
No one knows for certain, who enhanced his human race
Gave an artful hand, outsmarting evolution’s pace
As life spirals forward, in a world out of control
Entropy dismantles, stripping back our maker’s role
The poet in me keeps goofing, digging deeper holes
He’s a junkie rhymester, overdosing on this soul
So hail all billionaires, who never walk down my street
Flying above fake cripples, with power in their feet
Prodigies of bad and worse, scheming to make ends meet
Leaves an aftertaste of smugness, one that will repeat
As for those big questions, some take a straightforward twist
Two things I thought might go away, stubbornly exist
Not death or taxes, I’m already over that list
Each day I arise, how come lies and bullsh!t persist?
First there was oblivion, til I woke up and saw
Now fully awake, dead ahead looms a fatal flaw
But so long as I can dream, and able to guffaw
It only hurts when I laugh, Don’t you think? vents my jaw
By David Kavanagh
Hms
Categories:
for certain, dark, dream, life,
Form:
Rhyme
And now as I hold her near
I turn and draw the bedroom curtain
She made what she wants so clear
She's going to get it tonight for certain
I'm to be a raging bull
and ravish her not in a shy way
I'm to drive her into the erotic abyss
By doing it my way
Regrets, There have been so few
but the chocolate sauce I'd better mention
You were supposed to lick not chew
That's why I'm full of apprehension
but what a night on the golf course
and the hard shoulder of the highway
After just one romantic kiss
We did it my way .
Yes there were times I'm sure you knew
When I needed a minute or two
but you didn't have to pout
Like a sour faced old trout
because I was soon standing straight and tall
and did it my way .
We've loved , we've laughed and cried
My rigidity I was losing
With passing years stamina subsides
and you find that so amusing
Is that it ? I hear you say
In your own demanding way
Oh no , Oh no ''cos after a cup of tea''
We'll do it my way .
For what is a man , What has he got
If he can't do it twice on the trot
Wear your dress whenever he feels
Practice wearing your high heels
The record shows I love sucking toes
and I did it my way .
Categories:
for certain, funny,
Form:
Verse
I will tell you when they met:
in the burnished flush of autumn,
when each rising of the sun
turned each golden leaf more golden.
With the trees and fields aflame,
so the scholar's heart was stolen
by that blushing, bold nymphet,
In the burnished flush of autumn.
I will tell you when they parted:
in the middle of the winter,
when each slicing of the moonlight
filled her heart with thawless splinters.
With the trees and fields laid bare,
and each footpath silent, silver,
so they lost each other's shadow
in the middle of the winter.
When shall they meet again?
I cannot say for certain.
Their lives have grown divergently,
through seasons sparse and verdant.
To meet again beneath those trees;
more tempting than the serpent,
but such temptation never fades,
that much, I'd say, is certain.
Inspired by 'One Day' by Christina Rossetti.
Categories:
for certain, autumn, lost love, love,
Form:
Quatrain
There once was a family named Keets
They spoke in a series of tweets
Goldie was yellow and slender, of course
Blueboy was puffy and had no remorse
Together, they’d swing or gaze in the mirror
And watching them peck could not have been dearer
Their house was a castle of plastic and wire
That echoed their chirps, an avian choir
It always sat perched on Grandmother’s table
And that was the start of this family fable
You see, she would often leave open their door
They could fly freely or even explore
But one day, not seeing the window ajar
She sighed as they both winged their way to a star
Blueboy returned but Goldie was free
How Grandmother cried as she did decree
I’ll get my girl back , I’ll call the police
Thinking for certain, they’d listen at least
When asked to provide her name and address
With no second thoughts, she muttered her best
She lived on Byrd Street and this was no joke
They did not believe her, had she misspoke?
Sure lady! They said, no time for a game!
Grandmother and Blueboy were never the same
Categories:
for certain, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
It’s a feeling that never fails
To follow a generation
Triggered by sights and smells
A nostalgic way of thinking
A one up on millennials
Knowing the correct way
It’s all the vibes and feels
Of back in the good old days
A love/hate relationship
For the progression of technology
Every day we use it
But reminisce the “used to be”
An expression of disappointment
Across a slowly, shaking head
And subconscious judgement
Of how others break their bread
One thing is for certain
History will repeat
This earth will keep turning
Beneath our aging feet
Categories:
for certain, age, change, remember, time,
Form:
Rhyme
Walk with me in the dank moonlight
through the chill, rising, storm
so we can grasp the majesty
of Dullahan still born.
Without heads his horse and he ride
across the countryside
His head in hand they roam the land
none live where he abides.
A rush of blood, a gory spree
will take the sight of man,
then off they gallop wild and free
Dullahan, head in hand.
Here’s hoping he don’t call your name
for that would be worse by far
your soul would flee and fly with he
a soul as black as tar.
Carry your gold for I am told
this alone does he fear
and we can watch as he rides by
come give us a kiss now, me dear.
The winsome lass took his strong hand
and down the lane they walked
as in the distance hedgerows fired
and hooves clapped as they talked.
The sound drew near, a gate flew wide
the lassie shrieked and ran
so only her randy lad was
taken by Dullahan.
So, don’t think to woo by moonlight
near the shore in Galway
Dullahan hunts with cruel sight
each wayward soul a stray.
*While no-one knows for certain how the Dullahan originated, it is thought that he is the embodiment of the Celtic fertility god, Crom Dubh, who was worshiped by an ancient king of Ireland, Tighermas. Each year, Tighermas sacrificed humans to Crom Dubh, and the usual method was decapitation. The worship of Crom Dubh ended in the sixth century, when Christianity came to Ireland.
* music in About the Poem
Poet: D. Guzzi
Categories:
for certain, adventure, death, imagination, mystery,
Form:
Ballad
In my hand an empty pack of camel crushes... I smoked them all.
All the pacing from the stress has beat the pavement raw.
Anger from the moments of my son I never saw.
I'm so gone.
Because I've been holding it in for way too long.
And hashtag to my haters,I will spray you all away if you try to stop me from getting my hustle on.
And I'm not Kirsten Dunst but suckas bring it on.
I'm praying that the whole world pays attention to this song.
See snow the product did it first, but see this best it spoke to me.
And said "you could write a story on how rough your life could be.
And with every verse you spit, more haters get frikazied.
That's when motivation kicked in and I began to believe.
I'll show the population that my ryhmes are mega rad.
And show the child courts I can be a good dad.
And make for certain that I get to make my baby mama mad.
Because every brother out of Gary really ain't bad.
Determined dad.
Categories:
for certain, child, dad, dedication, father,
Form:
Rhyme
Cock-a-doodle-do,the sun is shining through,
Light appears in the sky,darkness turns to blue,
Sneakers or shoe,what do you think my boo,
Left my umbrella at home,rain soaked my shoe,
Achoo-acho-acho,now I have the flu,
Head-ache and cold,seems I caught them too,
My muscles are aching,shivering right through,
Hate taking tablets,a cup of herbal tea will do,
Ahhh-ya-yi,kicked the wall,my God what a blow,
Wobbling to the bathroom,now I broke my toe,
Sitting in the doctors' coach, perched like a crow,
Darn plaster polish,messing up my flow,
She loves me,she loves me not,what will this flower choose,
Came home early,sick,battered and bruised,
Heard basket ball on the t.v,my boo only watches news,
Burst into the bedroom,to see her hugging another dude,
Bye,bye,bye,pack your things and go away,
I gave you my all,why,why did you stray,
Woke up this morning,energetic and gay,
One thing for certain,today wasn't my day...
Categories:
for certain, funny, health,
Form:
Rhyme
Theres this knawing in my tummy
A burning in my ear
I feel your presence next to me
Yet you are hardly here
I'm not sure when it happened
but now it's crystal clear
Though your body's in the room
Youre vacant. --Insincere
I wonder- was it worth it?
To throw it all away?
All the things you squandered
to keep the pain at bay
All the things you had to pawn
just to get you through your day
Traded growth for comfort
Traded gold for hay
And I don't think you'll ever realize
the person you used to be
Now on a quest with no direction
In drunken ecstasy
These thoughts so sick and twisted
They make me want to flee
Spinning round in circles
A pirate lost at sea
I wish that you could see it
the way I clearly do
Suddenly I wonder
Who am I talking to?
Look around one last time
There's no one here. It's true.
And that is when reality
finally does come through
I see it there in front of me
A reflection in a mirror
I know it now for certain
Death is creeping nearer
I poor myself another drink
I hold my poison dearer
Then anything I've ever held
Reality becomes much clearer
I know I'll never break away
from this cage I built
It's destiny to end it here
There's nothing left but guilt
So I gently shut my eyes
And pray I'll quickly wilt
I look for one last sign of comfort
Grab tight to my quilt
The one my mother gave to me
on her final day on earth
She died too from the bottle
Pitiful, without self worth
I set a lonely fire with a lonely match
I watch it slowly flicker as I lay by the hearth
There was never once a chance for me
Doomed from the day of birth
Categories:
for certain, addiction, birth, dark, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
I think that I shall never see
A lovely poem written in defense of the bumblebee!
The ponderous and not so glamorous humble bee -
Obviously dreamed up by a senatorial sub committee!
An old stump that in summer becomes its deadly lair,
It flits about chasing little kids, settling in their hair!
It brandishes its fearsome stinger- its well-known bane,
And when stabbed in the fanny causes a heap o' pain!
It bumbles about with gossamer wings so delicately thin,
And upon its loutish face, notice that fiendish grin!
Such silly poems as this are composed only by fools like me,
But 'tis for certain that only God could love a bumblebee!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
With sincere apologies to one of my favorite poets, Joyce Kilmer,
for my parody of his beautiful poem "Trees"!
Categories:
for certain, funny, parody
Form:
Rhyme
When iconic lines in classic
movies have been changed
And our world feels a bit
upside down and rearranged,
When all you thought you knew
seems wrong in memory,
The stars have moved to places
where they shouldn't be,
When you look for certain things
you can no longer find
"I don't think we're in Kansas
anymore, Toto" comes to mind.
The lion's become a 'wolf' laying
down with the lamb (in the Good Book)
You don't need to believe me,
with your own eyes (have a look)
This is what happens when CERN
messes with our Time lines
Even our names can be changed
in what reality defines.
Sally Fields became Sally Field,
now just how can that be?
Nelson Mandela effects can
change ev'ry possibility.
Mirror, mirror is now
magic mirror on the wall...
But it doesn't seem to bother
some of you at all.
Well I am up in arms at all
the changes being made.
Soon, from our minds, the
original words will just fade.
Land masses can move, and
some islands can disappear
They have changed on all the
maps, and that's quite clear.
Your memory has not failed you
as you might believe
We must stop CERN now or
regret the wrath they'll achieve.
© Connie Marcum Wong
I know Curious George had a tail because my kids
used to love his adventures. His tail is completely missing now.
The 'lion' and the lamb has been changed to a 'wolf' in Isaiah 11:6
King James Version (KJV) and in NIV...all versions I found
along with many other disturbing changes to other scriptures.
I believe there have been something like twelve thousand changes
(don't quote me on the exact amount). Check out the
"Mandela Effects on google
Categories:
for certain, mystery, time,
Form:
Couplet
She never did come back home that night
Me pacing the floor
Walking for miles in search of her
Leaving me torn apart
Spewing with the turmoil of wondering
Just what happened to her
Who had she been with and why?
Engraved on to my mind
her name
etched in my heart
her love, her sighs
Spiking my tongue
her name cries out
My heart splinters
my gut receives another jolt
God I loved that girl
and didn't even know for certain until today
But now it is too late
I left it too long
to proclaim my love for her
afraid of the pain
which comes from being knocked back
still even that is not as I suffer now
in the whispering of her name
I look in the mirror
yet see her reflection stare back at me
smiling and tossing back her flowing locks
her very presence is felt in abundance
Her huge eyes dark as purest deepest sapphires
class more expensive than purest diamonds
with a charismatic magnetism radiating out
overwhelming all within reach of her personality
Stolen from this world she was
No notice to anyone that she would be leaving
Nothing makes sense anymore
And I long to know if we shall meet again
Some new day in a realm beyone ours
Another time another place
I'll wait for her as I hope she will for me
For true love will never die
Based on a true story from Christmas when a young woman went missing - found murdered... My thoughts went to those around her and inspired to write came this, but I have changed the girls name for the sake of those that knew her... So sad to still have these things going onin our world...
Categories:
for certain, caregiving, confusion, death, dedication,
Form:
Free verse
Ears listening to only their lies,
And their lies speaking only to them,
Trying to be quiet yet still screaming,
Drowning in rants never heard,
So concise but not too clear,
Imprisoned in thoughts of obsession,
Muttering useless ancient literary rules,
In love with yet hating poetic expressions,
Foreign to their limited constrained imaginations,
Trapped behind walls of old thought,
Grasping yet never holding reality,
While visions of punctuation and conformity crowd their tiny unexpanded
minds,
Judging without thinking one step ahead,
Thinking thoughts that kill their judgement,
Still their bodies move forward to nowhere,
Their voices the only sound left to comfort them,
Unaware of love just beneath their windows,
Desolation blinds their desperate micro-management brains,
In pathetic awe of ancient written rules,
Never really meant for ones of their ilk,
For they were penned for poets of consciousness,
Aware their times and rules would surely end,
Were never truly meant for all the centuries,
Suffocating in the dust of a past they never lived,
Afraid of new ideas of written expression,
Created from the minds of what they fear most,
Free thinking writers unafraid of literary change,
And still,
They talk and talk and talk, saying absolutely nothing.
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
Categories:
for certain, poetry, wisdom,
Form:
Narrative
5/20/17
Consider this
Trying to make a difference
Instead of showing ignorance
Regardless of if we're able to relate
I'm willing to do what it takes
Instead of letting it all go to waste
No sense of entitlement
Just after enlightenment
And to help the environment
Even after retirement
Open to suggestions
In all directions
Paying attention
With much more than good intentions
Call it one form of self expression
One thing for certain and proven
I'm only human
Yet still trying to make my contribution
Near and far from fields of lupin
Categories:
for certain, integrity, journey, life, meaningful,
Form:
Rhyme
Dear Poets,
I know for certain that I can never thank all of you enough for the supportive comments and messages you've written over the last 16 days. Each one represented a 'Get Out of Jail" card, letting me know your thoughts were with me.
With admiration and affection, please know that I respect each of you who took the time to write poems and/or inquire about me with kind sentiments. I could not read them in my own soup mail, but I did learn about your encouraging words through the kindness of friends that you contacted. I will do my best to catch up on reading and replying to all comments left for me but beg your patience in my doing so.
I was able to read all of your beautiful poems written to honor Milt. I can tell that he was respected and loved in the community. How could he not be, considering the fine qualities he had and instilled in many of us? He was my mentor, urging me to start entering contests again, after I'd quit for many months. He wanted me to get past him on that ladder, and I made it to the 2nd rung from the top before we lost him. I don't think I'll continue entering, so Constance, because of your humility and talent, I hope you remain on top. Caren sent soup mail about how sad it is to watch his picture moving spaces down on the home page until it will disappear. He will be gone from view, but not from our thoughts.
Tom, your news of Milton Creek would have made him very happy. You've honored him in such a special way by renaming our town. Thank you for being my voice on the site when I could not speak for myself.
With sincere thanks to all of you who I fondly call my poetic friends... it's long past time for me to write. Jenna's Saloon in Milton Creek is open for business. First round is on the house!
PS: Sheriff, it's time I get my Winchester back.
Categories:
for certain, how i feel, thank
Form:
Free verse