Best For Contest Poems
Hello there, do please come inside- no need to wipe your feet
excuse the mess, I fear you'll find it isn't very neat.
This place is always untidy, victim of my disorder
from old hang-ups to memories, I'll admit I am a hoarder.
In here hanging like mobiles, noisy, at odds with my feelings
are life's little distractions, niggling, swinging from the ceiling.
Careful with your torch, don't shine it underneath the bed
beneath it there is lurking a dark sprouting creeping dread.
Most people couldn't live with it, a disturbing thing to some,
as it cowers in the corner from the things still yet to come.
Tread lightly in the corridor, just mind out where you walk
you'll trip on my anxiety that bobs up like a cork.
The fire is stoked, the hearth is swept and logs stacked in a heap
my warmth to all well tended (well, except when I'm asleep).
Cardboard tubes in disarray, and more you cannot see-
plans I drew up in the past, none ever meant to be.
Mannequin in veil of black, arms raised as if to dance
with all my past relationships that never stood a chance.
This rocking chair, my temper, that sometimes I must sit in
and you'll notice that the varnish of my patience has worn thin.
My sense of humour's in the loft, protected by my hats
seemed like the right place for it, since my friends all think I'm bats.
That one small window by the beam lets my faith's light shine in
I'm sorry it's not brighter, window dirty from past sin.
Still, I can climb and open it to aim my telescope
for somewhere in the darkness lies the faintest glimpse of hope
that keeps me living here in peace and shelters me from sad;
you wonder why I live in here? Well, out there-
its just mad!
September16th 2015
For contest 'Inside my head'- sponsor John Lawless
Poetry was her best lover
like no other
he loved her
without restraint
She could be herself
and explore
discovering
secret pleasures and fantasies
Naked above the covers
he let her lie exposed
as he slowly caressed her imagination
making her flow
with the sweet essence of her soul
in waves of creative delirium
Flying free~~~
he let her be
unfettered
unashamed
unworried of how to please
or how to tease
just simply to be
a woman in a prelude
to ecstasy
Poetry was her best lover
her escape from reality
in clandestine intimacy
he ravished her mind
again and again
for all he wanted
was for her
to experience
to taste
every pleasure
he had to offer
Her insatiable appetite
he fed
with firm truths
that burst forth with wisdom
He fed her desire
to reach supremacy
He never betrayed
or delayed
in pleasing her
in giving her just what she wanted
in different ways and forms
his creativity endless
Poetry was her best lover
the only time in her day
when she had her way
and could be free
to be the woman she was meant to be:
Sensual and sultry, sexy and savory
not having to hide
behind the guise
the veil of culture
or religion
or misconstrued sexism
or alibis
being demure
“sterile”
when she was fertile
laden with passion
waiting to be filled
with word seeds of ingenuity
Poetry was her best lover
he adored her as she was
and he gave and gave
at times
leading her in submission to his will
taming her
training her
to live in the confines
of his rules...
For perfection to be reached
she had to follow his lead
to the pinnacle of pleasure
where all was in rhythmic union and rhyme
in the sublime
she was oblivious to time
Ah....sweet release~~~
In the after glow
he wouldn't let her go
but held her safe and secure
basking in the satisfaction
of a fruitful union
serene in the knowledge
that beauty has been conceived
waiting for delivery
Yes, Poetry was her best lover
and she came looking for him
begging him to take her
again and again and again
to transport her to heaven from hell
to compel her to see
what life was meant to be
Poetry was her best lover
and she had no need of another
to help her discover
her own entity….
None other
than her best lover
Poetry....
Eileen Manassian
One ice cream sundae
Swirled with whipped cream and a cherry on the top
Sitting temptingly in a tall glass
But you were out of reach
I could see you through the window of the restaurant
Melting away in front of my eyes
Like your life was ebbing away from you
With creamy liquid tears running down the side of the glass
Over time the cherry sank deeper into the velvety fluid
Until it disappeared into the thick goo
It’s blushing red cheek barely visible at the bottom of the goblet ...
ONE fire alarm spoiling one perfect moment
This is a true story – it happened on 5th September!
One contest – Sponsor Rob Carmack
07~09~15
Twice a month on our tiny little Isle
A group of heroes go that extra mile
Wearing protective clothing they clean the beach
Removing vast amounts of rubbish within their reach
Plastic bottles, fast food containers and tins
Items tossed away so thoughtlessly – it’s a sin
So many marine animals can get tangled in discarded plastic
They need our protection, or the results could be very drastic
Hundreds of bin bags of rubbish are removed from our beach
Restoring them to beauty, now they are as pretty as a peach
Volunteers work tirelessly with amazing solidarity
To help ‘Beach Buddies’ which is a registered charity
Contest: Stuff Thomas Martin
10th June 2015
No one wants to be left on the shelf for years
Guess you could say I’ve popped my cork
Now I’m fully mature with a rich full body
I could be described as a little fruity with a hint of spice
Please don’t keep me bottled up
Just give me time to breathe
Contest :- A wine Connoisseur
Sponsor: Chase Trevi
08~14~15
To single out special people on soup is such a hard task
So many people have helped me, so it’s a really big ask
I discovered on soup there is an angel without wings
Her name is FJ Thomas and her praises I’ll gladly sing
A month after I joined soup an e-mail appeared
It said I was a ‘Premium Member’ it was so weird
I contacted soup said a mistake has been made
I’m a Premium Member … but I haven’t paid
They said the donor of my gift didn’t wish to be named
But I had no way to thank them, I felt so ashamed
I wrote a thank you poem so that they would know
Someone made it a favourite – but their name didn’t show
I later learned it was FJ Thomas, but by then she’d left the site
I wanted to make her proud of me, so I tried very hard to write
I’d not written a poem for many years,not since I was at school
Began writing when my hubby got cancer – a disease so cruel
Flo’s gift to a complete stranger meant the whole world to me
Writing became my lifeline I hope I’ve used her gift wisely
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Since joining soup I began to collaborate
You really should try it - it really is great
Teamed up with a guy called Darren Watson
His sense of humour was awesome oh boy we had some fun
I was a complete beginner and Darren encouraged me
Telling me how well I wrote and he loved my creativity
We began to collaborate as Jadazzle United
Our friendship blossomed, we were simply delighted
E mails would fly and my self confidence soared
With Darren around there was no time to be bored
My world was shattered when dad was diagnosed with cancer
Darren was there to comfort me, often with a witty answer
Sadly Darren became ill and our writing came to an end
I spent many many weeks trying to trace my lovely friend
Contact was established with his family and after over a year
I got an e mail from Darren, I was overjoyed to hear
Darren’s positivity for the future gave my heart a lift
Our friendship is so precious just like a priceless gift
We’ve both had ups and downs in our lives recently
We're writing together again and we’re as happy as can be
Contest:- Poetry Soup Heroes
Sponsor Catie Lindsey
My Poetry Soup heros
F J Thomas
Darren Watson
A desperate spinster, Jane took
strong measures the day she would cook
fresh trout. Her date bit
the barb left in it!
He truly was caught on her hook!
4/26/2015
Only Soldiers
They are thanked for their service
by those who never served.
Commended for their bravery
by those who never donned
the colors of the country
the red, the white, the blue.
They are left alone with demons
that only they can name
seek the silent comfort
of those who know the same,
they limp alone in honor
of the men they used to be
slowly turn invisible to
the people they keep free.
In silent nod and gesture
they salute in passing pain
bathed in thanks for service,
awash in tearless rain,
not heroes, only soldiers,
in the shadows without name.
11/10/2013
submitted to – Being Invisible – poetry contest
sponsor – SKAT A
Solemn Seduction – for contest
soft winds are swallowed
by my wings
stolen
as the breath of lovers
waiting
unblinking eyes seducing
darkness
prying truth from camouflage
rotations of twist top head
listening for the silent
in silence
clinging to a white birch perch
moonlight’s searchlight
shifting shadows
nuances
of prey
soft wings and sleepy eyes
floating focus
beneath the star strewn sky
talons tensing in descent
striking
without pick-up line
the owl’s loft
for dinner
1/29/2016
submitted to – Owls Personification form – Poetry contest
sponsor – Eve Roper
I sat quietly and waited, making the noises he had come to know, calling him in his newly given name. His face would appear, cautiously calculating my intent, he would approach. The promise of food and gentle touch too much to deny. And so we did the “Little Prince’s” taming dance, each aware of the other and the possibility of betrayal.
cold eyes, empty heart
frost forming on life’s edges
winter’s numbing kiss
Our meetings continued, less cautious greetings, more welcome contact, minimal conversation. His coat was becoming more ragged in spite of attempts to keep it up, his gait slowing as our good-byes became short walks together. He could not leave his place, his home, even though it had left him – alone, to fend for himself.
hoarfrost in retreat
sunrise gently awakens
friendships warming blood
He withdrew – I would wait, quietly, whisper the name he had come to know, make the sounds that signaled “all clear”. I searched for him, stood silent and listened for his weakening call, shed tears in the cold rain of November. His last call, a feeble attempt at good-bye, led me to him. Alone, cold, hungry, he lay there, rolled his eyes as I cradled his cold and fading spirit. He shivered – and left.
winter’s cold cradle
ice encasing a friendship
a thawing of hearts
10/20/2015
submitted to – Creative Haibuns – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Concaving thought’s that try to escape
They have no substance in the life awake
Like an amoeba a thoughtless form
Trying to manifest in the early morn...
Morning has broken near the wishing well
As the fairies cast their magic spell
Love and sunshine be their quest
And thus invite you as their guest...
Feb.29.2016
This morning I went shopping
Tripped over, started hopping
My milk bottle it went slopping
The store cleaner began mopping
I hobbled out of the store
Got caught in the sliding door
Lost my wallet and now I’m poor
I really can’t take anymore
Then I fell on to my knees
Dropped my bag and my car keys
Gave out a massive sneeze
And then began to wheeze
I found my red sports car
The door it was ajar
They’d stolen my Snickers bar
It really was quite bizarre
I jumped behind the wheel
I began to shout and squeal
Why my Snickers did they steal -
It really was quite surreal
My shopping trip was tough
I was feeling pretty rough
I drove off in a huff –
I’d really had enough
Had an ache in my poor old head
Drove home and went to bed
Shopping trip left me half dead …
Will opt for home delivery instead!
I thought I’d pen a rhyme
With words that are sublime
I hope this one is fine
And in the list will shine
05~28~15
Contest:- Rhyme Time
Sponsor:- Pendleton Arkwright
THE RESTLESS SEA
As dawn swept 'way the morning stars
A gloomy Helen glared
Poor Paris stood in silence-- watched--
He’d kiss her if he dared.
The sea was raging round their heads
The men rowed without cease
The lovers headed to their doom--
A myth is birthed in Greece
Ten thousand ships launch in pursuit
Rough soldiers flex their knees--
Today hunt thieves tomorrow queens--
Men do what kings will please
The soldiers puked and gambled hard
Twas boredom that they feared
A seasick trip was just a jaunt--
The Trojan shore appeared
The glory grew beyond Troy’s walls
The truth no one can trust….
Dark tragedy writ in the books--
Tis flung among the dust.
Victoria Anderson-Throop
1/14/13
Waves
crashing;
then
breaking
on the beach.
Ebbing
and
flowing
tides controlled
by moon and earth.
Twice a day
high tides
and
low tides;
dancing waves
enchant
for
ever
more
Kim Merryman – Shall We Waltz Contest
06~11~15
I miss the sweet comraderie
The words you'd leave for me to see
The teasing tongue tenacity
I never thought one day you'd be
Away from here, away from me
I miss the way you'd make me smile
Through darkest days, a word worthwhile
Would scatter gloom and chase the vile
Oh, how your charm could so beguile
I miss your certain kind of style
I miss the mystery in the rhyme
The sweet sensation every time
I'd read the most melodious chime
Now that you're gone, it's such a crime
I miss the banter, so sublime
I miss the way you used to tease
Then placate me just to appease
The playful lines were meant to please
My little heart, your lines would squeeze
I miss your spirit's gentle breeze
I miss you, dear, I miss you still
Your place no one can truly fill
I'll wait and wait and wait until
You come back and take up the quill
And let your presence, joy instill
I miss you...