Best Foyer Poems
My name is Gary Fields
And I am at the Poetry Convention
Their are a myriad of Poet's
They are all in contention
There are so many that I may
Want to mention'
So, pay attention
Fore they must do this
In abstention
At my table there are three
Their are four including me
The second choice in my contention
IS Dr. Ram Mehta
He is such an easy catch
He is a voice/a reflection
He shares' so much love and affection
Being one of so few words
His disposition is the best
And his Human Psyche will
Never rest'
Could this be some sort of test
That his deepest guarded secret's
Are guarded close to his chest
Being a doctor and all
It is unlikely that he will ever confess
Third at the table is the X DESTROYER X POET
Due to the lack of word's
She always' have something for ya
And will certainly destroy ya
If not, then simply ignore ya
Fore she deserves' to seat here
And not just on the foyer
It is a main bone of contention
There is no reason why I can't enjoy ya
Or at least releave the tension
With her advanced degree
her suplituding pensoin for Poetry
It seems' that her messages' are
Aimed straight for me
She give's to this her all
She never seem to miss a call
And to past the test
One may think that
She seem's to be a little obsessed
Most of all
She keeps' her secret
Buried so close to her breast
And what wonderful breast they
Might be
Only saving for us
The one's she profess to be the best
But never the less
She rises' among the rest
Fouth at the table is Ms. Sweetheart of Poetry
Wish she will spend more Poetry with me
And plain not just ignore me
Because I'm a fan of her now
She introduced me to this race
She is all ways' on the case
She is fully comfortable in her space
I just hope that she won't have to use
All of her mace,
She composes' herself with grace
Fore this is so much an adventure
And not just some silly old Snail Race
If I haven't said enough by now
Then it is because I am running
Out of space, or being run out of town
But, there is always one next year
Same time, manybe not
The same old place
GF
Gary Fields
Dr. Ram Mehta
X DESTROYER X POET
LINDA Marie/Sweetheart of Poetry
Carol (Next on Deck)
*******For the Contets "Tt The Convention
JUNE 2011
Categories:
foyer, anniversary, on writing and
Form:
Narrative
A humid afternoon , in the middle of August, has nothing much to commend about it. I can hear the humming of air conditioning coming from both sides of a familiar old street. It's too hot for even the ardent gardener to be out and about, and sidewalks are deserted, while children are herded into backyard wading pools. Clouds are softly framed in bands of charcoal grey.
I stand on the corner, waiting for the light to change, and waiting for cars to allow me to cross the street.
rush hour traffic...
bees circle the elm trees with
no notice of me
I approach the old Victorian, and can't help but notice how painted shutters need repair, and the garden needs weeding. Wild devil-grass is taking over the wind-whipped faces of dreary, old zinnias. Seeing it so unkempt, makes me a little sad
Drooping over the sidewalk, thirsty roses lean over to greet me, as I ring the bell. The old woman opens the door and suddenly her unbridled joy upon greeting me, has put sparks in eyes, and softened her face, while my worrisome mood evaporates, like a freshly-washed day. I'm quickly ushered into the talcum-scented foyer of friendship.
a wilted blossom
still beautiful in my palm....
new lines in her face
________________________________________________
7/19/15 For Contest Sponsored by Scott Thirtyseven
Categories:
foyer, age, august, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Haibun
Thought you folks might like to read this. Someone sent it in an email to me.
The following is a poem written by Judge Roy Moore from Alabama . Judge Moore was sued by the ACLU for displaying the Ten Commandments in his courtroom foyer. He has been stripped of his judgeship and now they are trying to strip his right to practice law in Alabama ! The judge's poem sums it up quite well.
America the beautiful,
or so you used to be.
Land of the Pilgrims' pride;
I'm glad they'll never see.
Babies piled in dumpsters,
Abortion on demand,
Oh, sweet land of liberty;
your house is on the sand.
Our children wander aimlessly
poisoned by cocaine
choosing to indulge their lusts,
when God has said abstain
From sea to shining sea,
our Nation turns away
From the teaching of God's love
and a need to always pray
We've kept God in our
temples, how callous we have grown.
When earth is but His footstool,
and Heaven is His throne.
We've voted in a government
that's rotting at the core,
Appointing Godless Judges;
who throw reason out the door,
Too soft to place a killer
in a well deserved tomb,
But brave enough to kill a baby
before he leaves the womb.
You think that God's not
angry, that our land's a moral slum?
How much longer will He wait
before His judgment comes?
How are we to face our God,
from Whom we cannot hide?
What then is left for us to do,
but stem this evil tide?
If we who are His children,
will humbly turn and pray;
Seek His holy face
and mend our evil way:
Then God will hear from Heaven;
and forgive us of our sins,
He'll heal our sickly land
and those who live within.
But, America the Beautiful,
If you don't - then you will see,
A sad but Holy God
withdraw His hand from Thee..
Categories:
foyer, sad, god, evil, god,
Form:
Rhyme
Heavenly bliss
Shawn and Shauna fell deeply in love
And were on their way to be wed
When a car, on that day, took their lives straight away
As both of their bodies, lie dead
But their spirits were both drawn to heaven
As they stood, in front of the gates
Saint Peter was there, at the top of the stairs
When Shawn hollered loudly “Just Wait"
Now Peter looked puzzled, at Shawn
And said "This is no time to tarry "
Shawn spoke again, and refused to go in
Without being properly married
Saint Peter replied very softly
"We don't do that kind of thing here
But if you're willing to wait,
“I’ll see if I can, get it cleared”
Three months went by, while they waited
Saint Peter, show up with a Priest
"I know it was slow, But I want you to know
You’ll be married Forever at least"
As the wedding was getting started
Shawn asked a question, with doubt
What happens here in heaven
“If this marriage just doesn’t work out”
A silent filled up the heavens
Saint Peter, was shaking his head
And once he regained his composure
This is what Saint Peter said
“It took Three Months to find a Priest
In this Heavenly Foyer
How long do you think, I’ll take for me
To Find You a Lawyer up Here ?”
Categories:
foyer, blessing, death, devotion, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
it lives in an old chest
the auctioneer stated eyes fixed on it with a stare
I have a piece of history in my hands
let me show you he said with flair.
it is called a door quilt, he gave it a shake
made the American way ,full of dreams
females would every spare moment take
up the material and sew a few seams
they used them for warmth in those cold winter nights
each square is a talking point a memory a story brought to light
who will start me off with ,$500 the hands raise
up and up the value goes higher
'til it reached the unbelievable price of $3500.
must be a rich buyer.
Was brought by the Quilters Association of America.
used to be hung in their foyer a reminder to all
that a hobby is worthwhile no matter how small.
penned March 1 2016
bid $3500
Categories:
foyer, history,
Form:
Rhyme
I won a lunch for two with Tom Sawyer
And there he was waiting in the foyer
He wore his best old straw hat
But was told "You can't wear that"
Good thing I'm a hayseed defense lawyer
Categories:
foyer, celebrity, clothes,
Form:
Limerick
Impoverished, destitute no money to spare
This woman with green eyes and cascading hair
On a mission to find something to wear
Impress she must as though she hadn't a care
Green velvet drapes hanging in her foyer
Torn down and fashioned just for her
This woman in green shown like a mare
Femme fatal, Scarlett O'Hara, as no others compare
Dressed to kill as only she dare
In the green dress that she did wear
Categories:
foyer, beautiful, green,
Form:
Free verse
One man, one bomb, packed with rusty nuts and bolts
He bides his time, picks his spot and halts
Then detonates a foyer, full of mums and dads and kids
Who are blown apart, blown asunder, blown to little bits
Manchester, England, 2017, do I like Muslims or do I dream
Two men, two knifes, a soldier walking home attacked
Beheaded on the street and with machete’s hacked
Calmly, two men wait and joke with stunned passers by
Behind them, on the floor a headless man did die
London, England, 2013, do I like Muslims or do I dream
Three men, a car, with pockets full of knives
Stabbing indiscriminately, eight people lost their lives
The police were quickly on the scene, the men shot dead, where they stood
Another brutal terror attack and the streets were stained with blood
London, England, 2017, do I like Muslims or do I dream
Three examples, horrible but are all Muslims full of badness
The answer simply No, they shared the grief and sadness
For those that lost their lives from the few with bombs and knifes
Now Hammed and his children are scared to walk the street
With abuse and scorn hurled at them, from everyone they meet
Mohamed took no part in this, he is sickened just like we
But a few have hardened life for the Muslim community
England 2017, do I like Muslims or do I dream
Leave the people alone, let the people be
They believe in their god, just like you and me
Categories:
foyer, conflict, faith, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
At first they were in love, but soon he preferred
those sexy curves of his cute blonde employer
The divorce rate’s soaring I recently heard -
see forlorn people stand in the court foyer.
Love is actually a four-letter word,
the real winner of it all is their lawyer!
I think it’s so sad when a romance is dead…
He shouldn’t have slept in another girl’s bed!
Love is actually contest
Sponsored by John Anderson
07-31-17
Categories:
foyer, betrayal, divorce, lost love,
Form:
Rispetto
A foyer of light's light
smiling loved ones to the side
a peace beyond earthly peace
a peek into the afterlife
e=mc2 is meaningless
here
miracles are commonplace
if only we could open up and see them
the stem of the water lily
thin ribbons to heaven
gateways to eternity.
The flesh is brief
shed the flesh cocoon
and taste this unearthly peace
if you will.
Categories:
foyer, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
“Your mother’s love, the silent devotion ,the never heard prayers, the unseen care.” ~~ Shobhna Kanwar~~
She stood in the foyer of the church, through the window to the aisle.
Her threadbare clothes hung around her form in denial.
She watched him take her arm, as they approached the groom.
A hush was heard as the organ played in the room.
How stunning the bridesmaids, four beautiful girls,
The bride exquisite, her delicate lace gown studded with pearls.
The crowd were obviously all well to do,
Men in Versace suits, women clad in Channel and Dior too.
She listened as they said their vows and swore to be true.
She smiled as he proclaimed to his bride “I love you”.
Marriage complete, they would all soon walk out to the street.
It was time for the hagged woman to make a hasty retreat.
He glanced at her but didn’t raise an eyebrow.
She would never be recognized the way she looked now.
It was so long since she had cried, she shed just one tear.
Her dear daughter would never know that her mother was here.
Categories:
foyer, wedding,
Form:
Rhyme
I lift my eyes, as I have done so many
times, to enjoy the breathtaking images
in the stained-glass window gracing the
church foyer, Jesus kneeling and praying
in the Garden of Gethsemane.
Exhausted disciples sleep nearby.
No comforter is pictured there, but I know
an angel appeared to strengthen Him.
The sun's rays are filtering through
the window, illuminating the image of
the Lord in fervent communion with His
Father and enhancing the holy light
that glows around Him.
This awe-inspiring depiction of Jesus
pouring out His heart to God speaks to me
as clearly as any sermon, as movingly as
a reading of the Scriptures.
I know what the Son is saying to the Father:
"O My Father, if this cup cannot pass away
from Me unless I drink it, Your will be done." (Matthew 26:30)
This masterpiece is a reminder to worshipers
of why Jesus came: "The Father sent the Son
to be the Savior of the world." ( I John 4: 14)
March 3, 2021
entered in Brian Strand's All Yours (March 4) contest placed 1st
Categories:
foyer, jesus,
Form:
Free verse
Preferred by those that know of nothing fair.
Destroyed by sand that blows through consciousness.
Existing in a vacuum of despair.
I left that world behind I must confess.
The wheels of hope extinguished memories.
With every mile clouds would drift away.
Until the devil's valley and disease.
Were lost in natures brilliant grand foyer.
Rejoice, the mountains, rivers of my home.
Forsaken once so young and long ago.
The years have swallowed up the urge to roam.
And age has brought the need to take it slow.
Thoughts now have left me of that evil land.
Here God and nature hold me in their hand.
Categories:
foyer, journey, leaving, nature,
Form:
Sonnet
Her heart was a watercolor foyer.
Drifting about eddies-beneath fatal falls.
Wishing away the violets,
morning roses and midnight glories.
Fading mist-stained beating.
Her loves inheriting the aromas
percolating from her water garden mind.
Those who thought they knew her,
stood high upon crystal browed shores.
Slinging burning stones and bits of bone.
Summing up her life in bold font quips...
She was that-she was this.
Green viper bitten -black moon kissed...
As her final pallet faded,
blackbirds escaped her brilliant veins.
Time greedily sweeps the gild to gray...
The thrashers scattering her starry soul.
Into the misty orbit of Monet.
Categories:
foyer, death, friendship,
Form:
Rhyme
SPORTS INJURIES
I come in at number seven for Wanoona cricket club,
to face the bowlers from Dargetta, a mob from out the scrub.
I was doing pretty good, right up ‘til I was forty-four,
and then a bouncer dropped me cold, so I couldn’t bat no more.
My world was spinning ‘round in circles; I’m in a gyrating waltz,
until confronted with the first aid box and the evil smelling salts.
I was feeling like the morning after a night out on the grog,
and with nine down and six runs needed, I’m back batting in a fog.
Just hold your end up urged my partner; he’ll knock off the needed runs,
but I kept seeing two balls coming, as if they’re fired from guns.
Dargetta showed no sympathy, they still bowled at quite a pace,.
When another bouncer got me; me nose was splattered ‘cross me face.
This time it was more serious, the first aid box was useless now,
for a broken nose and flowing blood, needs more than they allow,
so it’s off to to the outpatients, to see if they can fix my nose.
I held a towel up to my face, and blood covered all my clothes.
I booked in to see a doctor, but then sat out in the foyer,
and half a dozen people passed and suggest I see a lawyer,
then a bloke who’s anxious joined me, and so for what it’s worth.
I watched him pacing up and down as if his wife is giving birth.
He was dressed in golf attire, so had come straight there from the course.
I tried to calm him down a mite and seek out to find the source,
of this fellows agitation and why he’s in this panic state,
but when a nurse confronted him, I heard about his nervous wait.
The nurse asked the bloke if he’s okay and heard his shaken quote.
“My golfing mate needs to remove me golf ball, driven down his throat.
He’s being operated on right now”, and then I heard him drawl.
‘I hope they’re bloody careful, and don’t do damage to my ball.’
Categories:
foyer, humor,
Form:
Rhyme