Best Forbes Poems
POTD 23rd June 2019
Maria Williams
Presents
Dance to Love
A tribute to my Dad, the late - Wilfred Forbes
She danced with wild abandon
she danced without a care
With sun kissed skin, her arms flung wide
Wild flowers everywhere
I chanced upon this secret glade
while walking early morn
A sacred aura surrounded it
a jewel in the dawn
A type of place where angels dwell
A place of Hopes and Dreams
A magic place of lush green plants
And sparkling bubbling streams
I drew back lest she saw me,
I dared not break the spell
Wild petals swirled around her
and to the ground they fell
Like homage to a Goddess
that she must surely be
For Gods to but gaze on
not mortals such as me
She twirled around so fast
I could barely see her feet
And even though I stood afar
I knew she gave off heat
When her tempo slowed right down
the air became quite chill
The Elements were but her slaves
she ordered them at will
I could have watched forever
so mesmerized was I
What would I give to dance with you?
I murmured with a sigh
To dance with wild abandon
with this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud
to watch us Dance To Love
by Maria Williams
This tribute is an enactment of a vision as told to us by our late Dad, which he maintained he witnessed as a young man.
He was an extraordinary orchestral musician and teacher to
some world greats.
He was accomplished in no less than 18 instruments, his favorites being the lead violin and xylophone (played with 8 hammers).
Thank you for listening and watching this video.
Copyright © June 2019 Maria Williams
Video arrangement, production, direction
and compilation:
Ron Williams
Video editing, sound mixing, graphics:
Jayne Hartanto
If you like my video please share
and subscribe on You Tube
POTD 23rd June 2019
Categories:
forbes, romantic, tribute,
Form:
Narrative
POTD 10th May 2018
A dedication to our departed Mum, Anne Forbes.
And to all the dearly departed Mums who celebrate Mother’s day on the second Sunday in May. We will meet again.
The day came when she had to leave
And we were left behind to grieve
If we could wish her back for a day
A million things we would need to say
As exquisite as painted silk these wings
I soar past clouds ~ with a Soul that sings
Every precious moment by her side
Fighting back tears we hold inside
Knowing she would go away
The Wish ~ was only for a day.
In a whirl of color flying fast
Hastening to a future of Ever last
A Wish granted ~ a butterfly in our midst
An astral sensation like we’ve been kissed
The Sun shines brighter on this glorious day
The whispering breeze that seems to say
Pearlescent petals in the air
Shimmering sun beams everywhere
I’m always here ~ I watch you all
And comfort you if you falter or fall
So dry your tears ~ no need to grieve
My tangible form ~ you must believe
I never left ~ I love you still
To Eternity’s end ~ I always will
On a whispering wind that gently sighs
I fly like a butterfly ~ there are no goodbyes
POTD 10th May 2018
Video Clip:
"On The Wings Of A Butterfly" by Jimmy Scott.
Categories:
forbes, dedication, mother,
Form:
Rhyme
The space in the between
Is home of the Divine
Where ether and atom
Forever intertwine
For the presence of God
Has no possible gap
As expressed through each one
Though form feel like a trap
And so Life emerges
From the Mind of the All
Unfolding in beauty
With the rise and the fall
And when I feel lonely
I need simply recall
The presence of the One
Is eminent in all
Becky Forbes
11.10.24
Categories:
forbes, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
Ethel Hurst
1889 – 1918
I saw the town rise up
Like a single blade of grass after a spring rain.
I played a multitude of hop-scotch games
With my best friend Hannah on Penn Street.
And sipped a hundred ice cream sodas in the Mercantile at sunset.
My mother took me to Jacob’s Grocery every Monday
And it was I who picked the plump oranges
From the big rickety crate.
On Saturdays we worked the fields at Strong’s Ranch,
Harvesting the pampas in the walnut fields.
And on Halloween I was the girl in the moon-face costume for five straight years.
When Christmas brought its luminous lights to the town,
Mother dressed me in red with a bell on my bonnet.
And father sang the carols with a guitar and a tambourine.
I graduated from the big high school in 1907
And in celebration,
Rode my bicycle to Bassett
Still in my starched graduation petticoats.
Jesse Forbes,
He being five years younger than I,
Was the love of my brief stay on this earth.
But when he ventured to steal a kiss that day in Black Canyon,
I used my calloused hand to convey my stern disagreement.
But what wild regrets I’ve entertained since Jesse drowned that day.
In the wild currents by Pio Pico’s crumbling Adobe,
His body bobbing like a sea bird
In the punishing plume of that old deep river.
Beyond the muddy banks and the wild flowers,
Jesse Forbes left this life with a surprised frozen grin.
Why Jesse? Why?
You never knew the truth, my love.
You never really understood what I meant
When I said nothing.
I said No to you when I said nothing that day in Black Canyon,
But I really meant Yes.
The influenza incinerated my heart and soul
With a 106 temperature in the winter of 1918.
Twenty nine years I dare say
Is nothing in terms of eternal life!
I had so much more to do!
I had so much more to dream about!
I walked and talked on the streets of my town,
And on the funeral-dark avenues of my innocent days.
And I planned and I schemed
And all for nothing!.
Indeed, I felt the pulse of fleeting time
And the never-ending,
Ever-turning circle of endless days.
But now I rest here in Clark Cemetery… a virgin corpse
Flirting shamelessly with the bow-tie worms,
Still wild with regrets.
And forever haunted in reverse
By the same recurring memory
Of Jesse Forbes holding a rose.
Under the old oak tree in Black Canyon..
Categories:
forbes, death, old, graduation, halloween,
Form:
Epitaph
Jesse Forbes
1893 – 1911
Black Canyon.
Now, there was a place to be!
It is true I was born a brute in a Quaker Town.
Born a bad-tempered brute of a boy
In the two-room digs on Bailey Street and Comstock..
My father fathered two other families,
Unbeknownst to his wife..
And I was the first one disowned.
But my father was a great believer,
And I loved the man like a fool.
I took up the milkin’ business at fourteen,
And made my morning way from Orange Drive down to Penn Street.
Delivering the dozens of clinking milk bottles.
Delivering the dozens of morning salutations,
To neighbors and friends in the glad and dismal days.
I had but one romantic interlude in my short stay,
Just one futile attempt at Carpe Diem.
But was left slapped and standing by a disheveled Ethel Hurst
There in the dark shade of Black Canyon
That inauspicious August day in 1910.
Ethel Hurst did not accept the entreaties of a 17 year old brute.
Did not accept my wild stares
Or my insanely puckered lips.
It was to my surprise that I died.
Died so young and so unready.
Still desiring the perfumed kisses of Ethel Hurst,
Still desiring her heart-quenching embraces,
There, in the dark shade of Black Canyon.
Categories:
forbes, death,
Form:
Epitaph
Sue posed nude on the cover of Fforbes
Shocked neighbours saw her massive pink orbs
Her old father went mad
She said "Don’t worry Dad,
You'll feel better once the shock absorbs"
Pure fiction as 'Forbes' is a business magazine
Ff was deliberately used to make the name sound upmarket like the name Audrey FForbes-Hamilton from a British Sitcom 'To the Manor Born'
09-28-17
Categories:
forbes, body, conflict, dad, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
From far away past where silent orbs
Danced to rhythms of unknown forces forging
Newer niches in cloud then soil then rock,
Smouldering, sizzling silently as time tic toc
Ebbed away, watching life on some lifeless rock surging,
To this day when we dance to the rhythm of Forbes,
The moon and sun in divine love urging
Have danced about the earth: light source upon a rock,
Bringing life to earth when the sullen clock
Calls out the grim owl, vile wolf, and sturdy sturgeon
Through the silent night nobody else disturbs,
Locked in eternal enthralment, watching the dark dungeon
Earth would be but for the sun- or moonlight it absorbs.
Moonlight from sunlight like new groom and virgin
Locked in an embrace older than Eden’s first baulk,
But sealed forever to work on this blue rock;
Bringing light to life on earth at dawn then dusk, merging
Efforts: sun casts its beams on daytime suburbs
But when the earth turns as if to shun its scourging,
That age old mission bound to fail as dusk struck
Finds new life in the passive glitter on that battered rock,
The partner playing its part, for so it was from the first forging.
From far away past, as far back as the silent space orbs,
The sun and moon in sublime love urging.
Have danced about and cast shadows out of this rock
And so it should be, for when one’s gone and you lose the rock
Foundation of the union, then is there but darkness and dirge in
The picture, and the survivor is just a lifeless rock listening for hope in the orbs.
(c)Nyonglema
Categories:
forbes, death, funeral, husband, lonely,
Form:
Blank verse
The Don, the Boss, El JEFE, El Patron mas feroz.
Born and bred to relinquish the rules, exploit the fools, and elude the FEDs
Andando sin cuerda en los calles de Medellin, Don Pablo nacio con hambre y
sed "Pues Claro mijo, por que yo no soy ningun estrella bonito. I came to
conquer this world, an d steal from Los Ricos." He'd say, thus being his
mission objective.
Medellin, Colombian wasn't you're everyday plot of Land or tale of glory.
Mountanous landscapes, alarmingly temptuous women, and love stories.
Cocaine paid the drug Cartels en route to the most lucrative drug trade
Escobar swore that he would dig his own grave, if he wasn't a millionaire
by the age 22, so he stole and he killed with cold-hearted skill engraved
into the Soul of a man possessed by El Diablo mas bravo que el Fuego.
El nino Pablito, un nino de Cielo... Gano todos sus Exitos sin nada de miedo.
Yeah, yeah, yeahh. He killed, he robbed, his thrill was the mob! So WHAT??
He was a sick man, a smart man, could form a mile of sand into contraband.
He was N-U-T-S. Pues si, claro caballeros, mas que todo Loco pero mas que
nadien Astuto. He bought land, he bought planes, he negotiated business
just by the drop of his Name. I won't judge, and I won't budge, the fact is
the man made so much money that FORBES had to nudge, he was rated.
In retrospect, history teaches us many lessons concerning human behavior.
You take a man from any walk of life and fill him with a tenacious Ambition
and it won't matter how the chips fall, because if he isn't holding the Ace's
he's strategizing to rig the deck of cards, already ahead of the races. Look,
Im not the guy you puts these guys in cuffs, and I ain't the guy that honors
this stuff, But I will tell you this -- Pablo Escobar understood something that
the rest of the world won't, or can't. Fear in the presence of action can and
will override ruling powers and force their submission. Lo llamaron un "Robin
Hood", y El Patron De Mal. Indeed, he figured out a way to divide and Conquer.
Categories:
forbes, people, sin, drug,
Form:
Free verse
Another new dawn, another new day
Am I the person who's ready to make
The most out life, the time we have left
Or ready to wake up, thinking of debt
Choosing to moan, or choosing to walk
Another step further on this hard test called earth
Am I the person behind the hard line
Or so far ahead with others behind
Each step I take, I know but I think
What is the secret to getting the link
The link to the answers, a link to the fame
A link to win this very hard game
This secret is this, as I looked around
The beauty around, transforming my frown
The birds and the bee's, the trees and these things
The opportunity and experience it brings
The billions of people, this modern world
The billion opportunities, I choose to build
Poetry ,art, music, colours, lessons
all enough in time, to answer any question
So on this realization I know
That if tomorrow happened to show
I may be happy,I may feel unseen
I may be the boy in the Forbes magazine
Im no Nostradamus, I cannot predict
All that I have is a calculated risk
My choice is this, and its oh so brave
To wake up and say,"Today is my day"
Categories:
forbes, art, hope, peace, people,
Form:
Distress travels instantly through me, A samurai sword, Greek mythology, Zeus gulped kingly ideas and in his breadbasket he stored, reminiscent of the ancient times, emergency Er Hoard, feels like a billion increased/decreased Forbes, a penniless fellow hustle in no way can be bored.
- Loverboi
Categories:
forbes, pain,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
First and foremost on the agenda,
would be to locate an affordable,
casual and favorable eatery
tubby agreeable to our taste
indubitable choice without
(any formal dress code),
nor further haste.
Strait away to the great weigh
(or if vegetarian – whey)
station of delectable food
where the exquisite, expertise, and exotic
high steak king a claim on Michelin Guide,
Gayot Guide/Gault Millau, American
Automobile Association, Forbes
Travel Guide reputation good.
Testimony to legendary praise
explaining why patrons travel
for countless days
transforming him/her
into steady state,
where he/she shuffles along
in a dishabille quotidian famished daze
far and wide culinary craze
out of this world wide web, the wispy Lyft
wafts trace steamy filament up braise
our noses,
whereat heads nod affirmation i.e. ayes.
Even before making a glad entrance
(into Restaurant) complete
a host of fresh, enticing,
and delicious aromas serve as a treat.
Delicate, foreign, hefty indescribable
ole factory stimulants delight
infiltrating thru swinging kitchen doors
holding us smell bound,
though thin filaments invisibly light.
Categories:
forbes, depression, fun, hate, hello,
Form:
Light Verse
Niggas still pledging allegiance 2 the same ****, slavery lives no longer in that
old physical sense, now these crackers whipping us with a mental whip,
controlled with material sips, most sell their souls until their thirst is quenched,
the devil, Satan is he or she a Justifiable Religious Myth, a plutocracy, a
government ran by the rich, finally a Black president, a pleasurable, memorable
but minute accomplishment, while the true President wealth, has him ranked
#1 on the Forbes list, we too focus on being rich, but 2 blind 2 see this ****
mental ignorance, Niggas still pledging allegiance 2 the same old ****,
controlled with material sips, mental whips, slavery lives no longer in that old
physical sense, physically we’re free, but mentally break the law, then you lose
your freedom physically, free your mind mentally.
Free your mind so we can
No longer be Niggas
I pledge allegiance-n-pray
God frees all my Niggas
Spiritually
Mentally
-n-
Physically
Nigga don’t mean
Color it means mind frame
Whatever color you are
Categories:
forbes, change, conflict, freedom, identity,
Form:
Free verse
Economic servitude
has me in its chains,
Wall Street and the bankers
have all the money and the brains.
I owe, I owe to work I go
sang the seven dwarves,
off to slave away for them
listed by Mr. Forbes.
All the years and hours
put in on the job,
to put aside a nest egg
for them to legally rob.
Common thieves in Armani suits
Rolex Oysters on their wrists,
hiding behind bribed senators
as we watch and shake our fists.
Who will save us from these guys
from Washington and Wall Street?
Who will give us back our savings
we thought were ours to keep?
Will Superman or the President
swoop in heroically,
pack them off to prison
and return my money to me?
We know that’s only in the movies
or Batman comic books,
because the government of America
has become a bunch of crooks.
Categories:
forbes, political, money,
Form:
Quatrain
Not quite twelve, and I needed a catheter
I had a bladder infection
What’s that? She told, and I laughed at her
The male nurse, she said, pretty rough
That didn’t sound good, on reflection
She said she could, good enough!
—————
H/T to The One for the Job by Becky Forbes
Categories:
forbes, boy, silly,
Form:
Rhyme
I gotta n itch) Lenin, where alien archeologists
from outer limits of the twilight zone unearthed
(com) bust stubble rubble yes likeness of Guy
Richie Rich Noir, whose couture, the best skid
row wardrobe.
He sported longish wavy (fluffy when washed
once every fort McHenry night), which character
wrist ticks evoked Chaplinesque down on his
luck Dickensian doddering dude, who cast an
immediate vagabond er dishabille, he happened
to be plenti none the poorer and ranked near
top Facebook listing of Forbes Plenty Of Fish
list, and whose trivial pursuit with flickr ring
idea to GoLong.
As a poet by fashioning his adversity into discord
ant clumps of clichés, facsimiles, idiomatic limply
mixed metaphors in a per verse manner reflecting a
discombobulated egghead delivered an ova night
fashionable fame, though syrup prize zing lee met
with profound success, and bore fruit of the loom
(one of his countless “FAKE” offspring’s begotten
unbeknownst to him iz this schlepper) constitutes
this blimey dorky and fluky guy, whose weakness
when communicating about extemporaneously usually
leaves the reader like totally tubularly confused like
ha cool and totally tubularly groovy man.
Categories:
forbes, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Free verse