Best Forwarding Poems
The beloved Queen of Hearts was a merry queen, who'd ever loved to bake;
Like confetti midnight stars, sparkling; or the yellow, noon sun, wide awake.
She baked myriad varieties of cookies, and delicious pies of different kinds;
And also scrumptious cakes, so divine. Like pure gold, tinted rainbows find.
The king had a cheerful disposition, too, but betimes could be quite stern;
Like the scarlet blossoms, which fail to thrive, before floriculture is learned.
Faithful friends became part of the many faceted court, like tinted bubbles,
Fancy dressed, and as vital to royal felicity, as a jade rose, with no troubles.
Forthright family were familiar at court, in the fleet, peregrine falcon days,
Fast-forwarding to fabled, fruity tomorrows, and to fitful, spiced, solar rays.
They lived in the house of green ivied walls, in the royal, emerald summer;
When golden sun visited almost every room, eager to touch a world of color.
Silver maples touched sapphire skies, on their street of red, sweet Williams,
Edged by creamy sand, where the surf came, onto teal, foaming, pavilions.
Nighthawks and wild wood anemones, were neighbors, bestowed by nature;
In nameless, never-ending, silvery hours. Red butterflies, loved floral flavors.
Heart tomatoes adored the orange sun, when wood ear mushrooms listened;
And Canterbury Bells plants were ringing, by roses whereon dews glistened.
Toad lilies stared in bug-eyed fascination, at the searing season of surprises;
And Billy Button blooms were getting dressed, as skies split in colored slices.
'The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer's day;' a Friday.
But alas, 'The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts, And took them clean away.'
When purple even arrived, 'The King of Hearts called for the tarts,' in a roar.
The lad relished sweets, but the king was mad, 'And beat the Knave full sore;'
'The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts, And vowed he'd steal no more.'
The kindly queen quietly quipped, 'After all, the boy has never stolen before!'
The King of Hearts was returned to good humor, and that lad kept his word;
And was back in favor, like pink spring tulips, or a song of blue mockingbird.
Categories:
forwarding, boy, fantasy, food, forgiveness,
Form:
Couplet
About head high, two bluebirds built a nest
Outside my window, in a young oak tree
They built their house complete with nursery
Last spring she chirped a lover's sweet request
It wasn't long before their home was blessed
Three little ones that chirped incessantly
They raised them to live independently
Last week they left no forwarding address
But I have hope they will return in spring
Rebuild even remodel, either way
Each day they said hello and were so kind
How beautiful it was to hear them sing
Perhaps, next year I'll ask if they can stay
Because good neighbors are so hard to find
November 20 2016
Italian Sonnet
Categories:
forwarding, appreciation, bird, poetry,
Form:
Italian Sonnet
The end of my life the beginning of my death
I shall start to slowly inhale my final breath
Fast forwarding memories race through my mind
There is one in particular that I’m trying to find
Is it of the hottest night or the brightest day?
I really don’t know how could I possibly say
White capped waves to snow capped peaks
As I start to exhale I feel so tired and weak
Funny how everything has started moving so slow
As my mind races to learn what it shall never know
Suddenly everything ceases as clouds fill my eyes
For I have frozen in the memory of you and I
Nothing but darkness here at the end of the race
As my final breath of air softly kisses your face
As I travel through the darkness I feel no fear
I’m lost in the taste from the salt of your tear
They say eternity is no more than an equation of time
Consequences of our life heaven or hell shall define
There is one truthful fact regarding my fate
Our Lord Jesus Christ will meet me at the gate
But I won’t go in that’s something I could never do
There is no heaven for me until I walk in with you
I’ll sit down right there just outside of the gate
I’m certain for you the Lord will let me wait
I know you’ll be mad because I waited so long
Sweetheart you are the message inside of my song
And the message my song shall forever send
It could only be heaven if I have my friend
Categories:
forwarding, faith, friendship, hope, love,
Form:
Couplet
The music begins, then the singing
I close my eyes, and even my ears smile
inhale.. humongous exhale, arms raise to the heavens
then my hands pose, lingering in jazz dancer's style
My mind begins to fly
Or perhaps as I glimpse the shadows going by
it's actually birds, yes birds fast forwarding to the rhythm
flying past majestic leafy trees beneath a dusky sky
Then the speed slows from 78 rpm
to 33 and a third
my body relaxes a bit more while I sway
becoming hypnotized to each note to each word
The clouds are outlined in smoke
a gentle breeze blows against my face
dancers appear, adorned in loosely draped gray chiffon
enchanted by the music, they swirl with finesse and grace
The wind picks up, so much so, that now, I'm flying
the shadowy scene about me is racing
it's as though I'm soaring through a vortex
unfettered, perhaps it's a virtual paradise that I'm facing
Feeling mellow with this
Byrd's band flickers in and out, the notes float and transcend
the song finishes but the music doesn't, not yet
I pen this piece as I peace out, so the music doesn't really end...
Inspiration: Places & Spaces by Donald Byrd
2/4/16
Categories:
forwarding, music, paradise, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
Longing for heart-quiet
in the inevitable fall
into Winter’s short days of sun
forwarding to Spring’s
longer days — a circling back
in the sameness of time.
Heart-and-mind-numbing time
with no respite. A longing to quiet
those thoughts playing back
battle after battle. The awful
repetition. Mind and life wasting.
And, in the darkest season,
the conviction that the sun
will only half-rise in this lifetime
of mine. Feeling that sting
as from a bee’s disquiet
of green slumber. Swelling to a fault,
every damned day. Slamming me back,
season upon season. Holding me back.
Chilling me with doubt that sun-
shine can overcome rainfall
and that, invariably, given time,
better times will come and quietly
advance into Spring. Fast forward, past Spring
to Summer, and onto Fall springing
back to Winter, and round again. Flashbacks
ever more glaring under the sun, then, quite
out of the blue — a glance, a nod. Overrun
with fluttering, my heart paces in time
with fledging love’s free-fall.
And, with the passing of another Fall,
Winter heralds in the sweetest of Springs:
daffodils and Easter bonnets — a lifetime
of celebration ahead, no looking back.
Past risk and reason, I bask in the sun
that is love’s shine. Rain or shine, quiet
in the peace of it all, Fall after Fall, back
to Winter, Spring, Summer. Quiet as a Spring sun
bursting through clouds. Love, for all time, requited.
Categories:
forwarding, absence, autumn, conflict, easter,
Form:
Sestina
Knock on Moonman's door
Gone. No forwarding address.
Left note 'I'll be back.'
Categories:
forwarding, history, nostalgia, space,
Form:
Haiku
Let everyone know
whose on your lists
drop them a line this time to tell them
exactly where they sit on your favorites
let them know what their poem means to you while they are still alive
this is your interactive audience
your psychic sidekick
your spiritual inner workings guide
Let them know who is on your list
and then tell them to pay it forward and in a few more months
let it spiral out again
why sit in silence and never know
who your fans are
read up on them find their tastes
and pleasures and then help define them
Let me know please
who is reading me
tell me tell me
what poems of mine do you continually re read
the future
the future
the future we aim to touch
but if we don't work together to find out the present favorites
we might not ever know much
So teach me about my writing
who is my target audience of you
drop me aline so i can find
whose reading me and why
and what i can do
to entertain you
and the future in a better manner
so the competition will have a competitor in this corner
now please pay your favoritism forward
Categories:
forwarding, education, history, inspirational, on
Form:
Free verse
From the beginning of time there has been exploration
To undiscovered places by every rich nation
Mans great love for exploring has moved up a gear
He has accepted a new challenge; the final frontier.
Nineteen fifty seven saw the launch of sputnik one
Followed by sputnik two, the space race had begun
Russia was the first off the starting block
America was busy working around the clock.
The following year America entered the race
By sending explorer one up into space
Russia then sent up their first cosmonaut
America then followed with an astronaut.
America was now leading in the race for space
President Kennedy’s wanted a man, on the moons surface
The whole world was watching, they were eager to see
Eagle Landers touchdown in the sea of tranquillity.
Research and development is now taking place
To establish planet Mars as a forwarding base
Future missions will refuel and take on supplies
So astronauts can venture out into darker skies.
Look up on a clear night and look for the space station
Manned by astronauts from more than one nation
Mankind has shown that he has the capability
By developing spacecraft that was once fantasy.
There have been many celebrations and even some tears
Accidents have caused deaths of some brave pioneers
Two NASA space shuttles, Colombia and Challenger
Both exploded above the earth a tragic disaster.
Our sun will die out and mankind needs to survive
A new home is needed so humans can thrive
Mankind will colonise planets that’s a certainty
Using great minds to develop new technology.
Space exploration is new and is painfully slow
In the big scheme of things, we’ve a long way to go
But one day these dreams will become reality
As man ventures further out, beyond our own galaxy.
Written 30th March 2018.
Categories:
forwarding, endurance, planet, science, space,
Form:
Narrative
Quantum mechanics proves that we can be put back to,
Particles, atoms, matter and gas by physical reactions,
But such indeterminism was fought by C S Lewis boldly,
Who used capitals mid-sentence for personifications.
He wanted to personify morality and the virtues,
So said Right and Justice to detach the judge,
From the justice, from the boyfriend or the neighbour,
So that from Hawking we would in some way budge.
But libertarianism contravenes philosophical necessarianism,
By forwarding that we all have alternative possible actions.
Says we’re not predetermined by prior events and engagements,
Through a divine agent that coalesces and notions,
That truth is out there is a fact, out with our command,
But truth is real, essentially original, humanly discovered;
A god cannot call it or claim its curvature or inception,
Because an agent would make our interpretation blurred.
Truth is not solely objective, bestowed supernaturally,
But is a human relativity which we believe, tell or embody;
We all have our own being which can reap desolation,
Or liberation, if we choose to personify it for somebody.
Categories:
forwarding, future, god, people, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
-Love left nothing to confess-
On two worn crutches
Our love wobbles in
See her heart how cold she trembles
Wheelchair romance lying unassembled
The problems came when nothing said
Comes home at night and lies in bed
Paranoia hates those wrong assumptions
Until the talking two
Became the talking at
In.mid air floats a hanging question
A loving pair that craved destruction?
A ping pong game ignoring all
Enticed by a pale hipnotic ball
Falls to find no safety net
Falls to Earth like a Messerschmidt
Take pity on this broken amputee
How youve hammered and youve sickled me
Sad to see how hard she also tried
A coiled up spring never letting up
And giving up surrendering
Love left nothing to confess
And having left nothing, no forwarding address
Categories:
forwarding, break up,
Form:
Free verse
Monsoon forwarding
two small puddles overflow
soon there will be one
Categories:
forwarding, rain,
Form:
Haiku
stay keen to wren song
through the gap between two notes
winter forwarding
Categories:
forwarding, bird, winter,
Form:
Haiku
Spilling a stampede of ink's prisms in brilliant
words infusing a Poet's thoughts.
Conveying creativity to provocative
imaginations .
Implicitly complying to isolating reality
Creating new dimensions where
Clock's spilling time's perceptions living
the moment of now forever.
Clockwise wisdom from wicked word’s
of a Crazy mind.
Philosophically our minds process symphonies
of orchestrated word's allowing cognitive man
to stay in harmony with the mind & body
a climax of our souls.
Mind the symphony insane insanity
orchestrated by the body in climax.
Words infuse a person's thoughts.
Emotions are expressed by the pitch of spoken word's.
Words communicate & body language speaks
emotions relative to the words
infused of a person's thinking.
Wisdom can be found reading in between the lines.
A paragraph of powerful catchphrases speaks
melodies of a catchy tune & flowers of imaginations
bloom.
Philosophy is ergonomics of the mind.
Urban legends in the suburbs.
Sounds of absurd check out the proverbs.
Cognition is a subject of cognitive man.
Premonitions are permissions of man's cognition.
Relative to the fixed position.
Precognition is a psychic's dream
an heard but not seen.
Culture is a reflection of society's ideology
theories of mythology in series of theologies.
Hypothetical theories query a qued question.
The clocks bleeding times perception
of dimensions in galaxies
light year's away.
Romeo’s an architect of accentuating
love's aesthetics in romance.
Twice pleasing to appeasing
sentiments in orchestra's
of delinquent eye's to witnesses.
Accentuating abstracts in non-conformities
designs contemporary aesthetics
in modern times.
Contemplating exquisite elegance unique
powers doubling my mind's conspiracy
of forwarding complex sediments.
Orchestrated the dynamics time playing
noteworthy scales of creativity
All the syllables in a kilogram of lines,
echoing grams of killer dope words whispering
persuasive complexity.
A mythic's chanting elegant wizardrtrii
enchanting ageless philosophies elegance of
life's angelic orchids of ageless wisdom's.
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Pen's Broadcasting Brilliance
21st century's Poet
# WickedRomancer
?#poet #poetry #poem
Categories:
forwarding, creation, inspirational, life, philosophy,
Form:
Epic
the evening was a beautiful blue
when i got home from my workday
i went to the mailbox, retrieved a pile
and quickly perused the stack
i saw it quickly and was surprised,
my brother got a "handwritten note"
no return address, i noted,
yet it all returned, flooding back to me,
the pain, the grief, the gladness,
all the stages of grief and life.
i held it up to the light, to candle it,
like a fresh egg from an older time
it was, as i suspected, a sales promo,
for foundation repair or perhaps
for whole life insurance, or some
equally ironic useless instrument as,
my brother has been dead for many years.
i smiled, after the startle had subsided,
knowing, remembering, how my brother
would have reacted, with a wry comment,
and perhaps a joke about always hoping
he'd leave a forwarding address.
i got to thinking...do the dead,
just like us, long for a note, a letter,
some quickly dashed off postcard?
"Having a time of it here, wish we could talk.".
perhaps, a little something
with cologne-sprayed paper,
or a glittered envelope,
or more my siblings style, with
some hot habanero, or heritage
cantaloupe seeds inside. -
just a quick note that says
"You are remembered, and missed".
{looking up}
"i'd like a fifty-cent postcard,
and a book of forever stamps please."
© Goode Guy 2013-05-13
Categories:
forwarding, absence, brother, death of
Form:
Narrative
Old Shoe Box And Broken Candle
My great boldness keeps hammering on down
like blacksmith's hits on anvil it rings.
So loudly, it barks echoes around this town
forwarding slashes giving wicked stings.
My great arrogance so often I can not abide
proudly riding patiently with me daily.
In that awful smugness even I can not hide
covering with soft words spoken gaily.
Silly boldness, are not others far more bold
cried out this man thinking so wise.
Are not others greater in knowledge of old
tis' true, cried out this man so wise.
What pray I, do I have so very special now
that truth has found its clear start.
Only my great willingness to find out how
trade old shoe-box, broken candle for a heart!
Robert J. Lindley
April 9th, 2004
NOTE- I wrote this poem for my 16 year old daughter K.K. to turn in and discuss in a classroom assignment back then.
I let her do all the poem analysis and she did a very good job getting most of it correct. She got very high marks for the poem analysis!
Categories:
forwarding, art, encouraging, introspection, simple,
Form:
Rhyme