Best Fot Poems


For Ronan

Your soul was being attacked
Meanwhile mine carried bags
Of sorrow, devastation and guilt
For I knew your little body couldn’t handle this
This cancer that sprung up out of nowhere when you were two
But you got your army men and went to work
Fighting
How strong your little heart was
Bigger than any of those little army men
Nevertheless, your little body didn’t fight forever
How could it?
So I sat you on my lap and told you that it was okay
You died that day.
So now,
Every chance I get I say screw Cancer
Fot taking the most precious boy I’d ever laid eyes on.

Premium Member Write Now!

I sit and stare at empty page
my mind a big black hole
my pencil sharp and at  the ready
as if I’ve no control

then words begin to form
my pencil flits and flies
and rhyming words, oh how
my mind is really tried

It kind of makes my head rush
I do not want to brag
but writing never seemed more fun
than in the days of “poetry tag”

When poets gathered in a room
a topic then was given
the poet pounded out a poem
like they were truely driven

I miss those days of poetry tag
inspiration came to me
on fairy wings and moon beams
hearts bared for all to see

Fot Matt's Write now contest
started at 7:22pm and finished at 7:33pm on August 20 2008
I write long hand.... :-)

Last Dance

In pain u couldn't talk
Whenever I came to check on u
Lying in bed there
I knew u wanted to tell me something

Poor me I cried
And let myself avoid u
I thought I caused you pain
So I went in vain

Then here comes a phone call
I just lost my loved one
Grandma why did u go
Atleast  u could ask me first

Time really can tell
And at times it rings a bell
But sometimes it's like hell
Crazy moments of life

Felt like I should blame
All those around me
Maybe she could be saved
But I don't even know how

Cancer is a killer
People have to know
When it attacks someone
It kills slowly and painfully
Grandma, I love u

We made jokes all the time
Not knowing someday
U'll not even be able to speak
Now I know it all

U left with a part of me
I can feel the pain, newly
Everytime I think of u
And when I look at ur photo

I wish I knew the date
I would dance with u all night
And tell u good bye
Before u could die

But u are no longer here
Wait fot me where u are
Our hearts will speak 2 each other
I wana hear u saying
I miss u Irene
© Irene Komu  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member A Lady Tattoo

Hummingbird
   motionless now
      hovers still
         rising, falling
            on my breast
               as laughter rings
    it doth animate his wings.



Fot the " The Crown of my Body" contest whitney form
written 6/18/12

Look At the Gathering Storm

The sky is gray
  as late afternoon morphs into evening
   We are not prepared fot the gathering storm
Peace is what we seek 
   But the sky offers little hope  
and when the heavens burst 
we are taken aback
   We must prepare ourselves 
swiftly
   or be swept away by the 
howling storm or are struck by lightning
  An awesome display of nature's power
Despite advances we cannot yet 
    cope with the forces unleashed 
in a storm
   Look out your window 
  Prepare yourself for the worst 
For nature does not make comprimises 
   or change to suit us 
Prayers, rise heavenward 
   Let's take solace
in our small structures 
and our loved ones

Reaching For Heaven

Joy's in the air
Paradis beyond the sky
Rejoice o sorrowful earth
Look up and reach for The Lord on high

Break loose your shackles
Stand tall,stand strong,be humble,yet be proud
Turn your hands upward
And reach beyond the clouds

Reach for the heavens
To defeat your woes
Reach for the heavens
Reach with your hearts,your minds,your souls

Reach up with joy and happiness
This could be our last moment
Not ever knowing when or where
You or me will be summon

Rise up and reach for paradise
Do it with prayer,with hope
Never hesitate even for a second
Keep your faith afloat

Reach up higher and higher still
Till you can feel his presense
Even though you can't see him
You can fell his evanescent omnipresense

Never stop believing,never stop reaching
The wrongs we've done in life can be forgiven
Never stop believing,never stop reaching
Never stop hoping,always stay commited.

I will never stop reaching for
You should never stop reaching for
We all should never stop reaching for

Reaching for Love
Reaching for Hope
Reaching for Salvation
Never stop reaching

Never stop reaching fot Heaven


Time

TIME
Yes I’m an old dog
But I’ll still get a bite at the bone
The day did find me down
But there’s yet a majestic dawn
That of the morning worms
And of the early birds

Yes I’m late for the banquet
But it’s still until a fortnight
The king may be a little angry
But he must understand I am hungry
Waste therefore not my time
I’ll be late fot the wine


I here laughter and meeting of glasses
It must be the liquor and evil dances
Now I know I’ve missed a thing or two
Please tell me that is not true?
Oh, the pleasures of the king’s imagination
Made real by his hand’s orchestration

Have they got to the main course?
I’m sure some villain will turn it into a racecourse
But ventre a terre upon his heels
Before the first apple peels
And my seat close to the king’s
Before the dinner bell rings
                                           
                               Bright Githui

Special Teacher of Dance

Through the years students come and go, and time after time you teach and put on a show. 
The students dance and sing, and the audiance is proud of what they have seen. You 
remeber every name that walked through the door, and you keep above the game and people 
ask for more. Thanks for the gifts you have given us, thanks for the talent, love and 
trust. But most of all fot the loyalty year after year, your such a great person your 
such a kind dear.And remember this always, no matter what students do after they leave, 
it is what they hold close to there haert it is what they belive...that dance is not only 
an expression you show on the outside, it's a feeling and emotion you have on the inside. 
So, whatever we do after we move on just think to yourself and be strong, and know that 
we are all grateful for all that you do, and we can sincerly say "how much we all love 
you".

Premium Member My Son Scottie

Got a son
His name is Scottie
Am I proud, you better believe it
My shining star
My confidant
How proud? You couldn't conceive it

Growing up
Problems quite few
Turned out to be much as expected
A computer guru
With in-born smarts
Trying so hard to be objective

Guess I'm not
Being very successful
At hiding my love for my Scottie
Hope he meets up with
A pretty young thing
One just a little bit naughty

Some folks say
He's a replica of me
Imagine that's quite possibly true
Body shape's similar
Same zest fot life
His sense of humour's similar too

Bias? Perhaps!
More than a little
Not everyone's as lucky as me
To have a son who
Turned out like Scottie
As proud as a daddy can be!

© Jack Ellison 2013

Modern Day Tragedy

11 years of public school under your belt,
8 years suffering the worst feeling ever felt.
Parents divorced,
They remarried....... You're forgotten.
Eventually you have to move,
Leaving fields of corn and cotton.
Trailer park life, living as a disgrace.
Facing all your fears alone and biting back the bitter taste.
A hateful brother you thought was the only one,
Not knowing the father you loved replaced you.
Being thrown into this new hoard nd giving anxiety a kick start.
Dealing with the stress of 8 new siblings along with a useless attempt at maintaining order.

You look back now and realize how easy you had it then....

You're new little sister comes in August, 10 brothers and sisters is a lot to handle.
You're school life is steadily getting harder as you struggle to prove your worth.
A concoction of vibrant pills are the only reason you're alive, if you're being completely honest with yourself.
You don't know why you even bother getting excited because you have no one to share it with.
You're "awful" brother has left for boot camp.
The one person you trusted left.
Weekly, you pay someone to listen to you cry and complain about your "horrible" teenage life.
And nothing means anything to you anymore.
You hate the kid you were fot being naïve.
You go through each day with a monotonous numbness, making sure nobody suspects your problems.
And each night, as you prepare yourself for the onslaught of nightmares, you look dejected at your knives and secretly wished that nobody cared and you didn't have so much responsibility, 
So that you wouldn't feel guilty if you decided to leave.


This is the struggle of my life. And it will never be made any easier.

All Because of Calvary

ALL BECAUSE OF CALVARY  
 
                   IT WAS ON A DAY SO LONG AGO
                   THAT JESUS BLED AND DIED.
                   SO ALL OF US ON EARTH TODAY
                   COULD IN HIS LOVE A BIDE.
 
                   IT WAS ON THAT CROSS HE SUFFERED
                   THERE HE DIED.BUT NOT ASHAME.
                   BECAUSE OF HIS LOVE FOR EVERYONE
                   HE WAS WILLING TO TAKE THE BLAME.
 
 
                   THIS SAME JESUS LIVES TO DAY
                   AND HE LIVES WITHIN MY HEART
                  HE IS WILLING TO BE YOUR KING
                  IF YOU ARE WILLING TO MAKE THE START.
 
                  HE PAID THE DEPT WE COULD NOT PAY
                  CALVARY COVERED THE CROSS,
                  AND HE IS HERE WITH OUTREACHED ARMS
                  FOT THE LONELY AND THE LOST.
 
                 @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
                       WRITTEN BY ANN HART COPYRIGHT
© Ann Hart  Create an image from this poem.

Stars

It is dark,
But,
When she looks up,
She sees sparkling diamonds,
Wondering,
How do they get there?
Stretching her hands,
Hoping,
She could reach them,
Taking them with her,
Cause they make her calm,
When the sun rises,
The diamonds are gone,
Leaving her waiting,
Waiting fot the stars,
Coming in the next darkness of the night.

Christmas Season

With Burle Ives singing Frosty the snowman in the background,
and the smell of pies and 
cinamon in the open, warm kitchen, thoughts of Christmas'
 past come to mind. When 
precious God fearing, grand parents were 
around to keep my thoughts on the right path and 
help to increase my faith in a loving heavenly father.
 A father that had the good of the 
family in mind; was the protector of the family and leader. 
Times were more simple and 
precious, hard work was the norm around the small vegetable farm. 
Decorations for Christmas 
were a must, a tree and lights, with many gifts under the tree. 
Kids playing with all the toys 
and each other, usually a board game would
take place after the Christmas eve meal with all 
the cousins, that we all readily enjoyed. 
As the kids got older, and were able to drive, we 
would take a ride to Christmas Lane and look
at the decorations and lights. Then go home to 
wait fot Santa to leave our presents, 
with the fire place's glowing red embers, Santa could 
see the perfect place to leave the gifts arranged for 
best enjoyment and visual build-up. 
Love abounds sitll in our home, with my own son watching for Santa's spies around 
Thanksgiving and wishing for every
toy known to mankind. The awe and wonder are still 
there, but I miss those gone on before, though I 
can imagine the celebration they are having 
up in Heaven, praising Jesus, and loving each other.

For my grand parents-Robert and Leola Kendrick and Marion and Marie Morgan

Time

TIME
Yes I’m an old dog
But I’ll still get a bite at the bone
The day did find me down
But there’s yet a majestic dawn
That of the morning worms
And of the early birds

Yes I’m late for the banquet
But it’s still until a fortnight
The king may be a little angry
But he must understand I am hungry
Waste therefore not my time
I’ll be late fot the wine


I here laughter and meeting of glasses
It must be the liquor and evil dances
Now I know I’ve missed a thing or two
Please tell me that is not true?
Oh, the pleasures of the king’s imagination
Made real by his hand’s orchestration

Have they got to the main course?
I’m sure some villain will turn it into a racecourse
But ventre a terre upon his heels
Before the first apple peels
And my seat close to the king’s
Before the dinner bell rings
                                           
                               Bright Githui

Talk!

Talk! 
1. Dont Speak Dont say a word 
Feel my anger start to burn 
Bottle it up stuff it inside 
Choke on your voice 
never been so deprived 
We are nothing but the stories we tell 
Let the man hear you as you are trapped inside yourself 
For at times it seems that going silent crushes your dreams 
Stiffiling the innocent 
Defering your wrong doings 
Blaming the youth 
but they well see we will seethe youth shall rise above 
Fot if nothing else that we teach them is 
to walk the walk and talk, talk, talk.
© Amy Baller  Create an image from this poem.

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