Best Fully Grown Poems
I have a little garden
growing on a page.
No mint, I beg your pardon.
I hope that there is sage.
It’s ideas I plant there
to see what they will do.
Each day I check to see where
some precious seedlings grew.
I feed and water them
until they’re fully grown,
but sometimes on a whim
they’ve caught a breeze and flown.
Poems are what I’m sowing
and though I’ve reached full age,
I think it’s me that’s growing
as I garden on the page.
10.22.2018
The fish needs the anemone; the anemone, the fish
The pollen needs to be the bumble bee’s most precious wish
There’s fishes that frequent the mouths of huge man eating sharks
There’s places where I walk my dog, where he, at nothing, barks
The dragonfly leaps into flight, how does he know he can
A dolphin will attack a shark… to save his fellow man????
A chick will clamber from an egg and when he’s fully grown
He’ll fly five thousand miles to find a land he’s never known
All of this is cool and yet defies all explanation
So what on Earth created everything in every nation
Coincidence or accident, the odds just made it so
When mother nature’s dice were bad, she took another throw
Do I marvel at the splendour of the stars or moonlit nights
Do I smile when on a lavender a butterfly alights
It’s truly hard to comprehend; to find a rationale
For each astounding thing in this whole world - or this locale
Some say it’s evolution and the rest say we should pray
As though it’s Mother Nature or a god made things this way
But nature plays a game of chance; things work or don’t last long
I wonder at the notion that a god might get things wrong
There’s negatives… volcanoes, earthquakes, famines and tornadoes
I’d like to think a watchful god would save us all from those
I know not who or what made planet blue ’pon which we live
But when I see the truth my full allegiance I shall give
For all the birds and all the bees and all the plants and all the trees
Shall fill my heart with joy but shall not bring me to my knees
And yet our science tells us that it started with a bang
Which, some say, is as likely as, “Then all the angels sang.”
But all of us - you, them and I - are mortal as that butterfly
Will answers come the day we die, or will our souls lay down and cry
Will we float into the light with no fears, needs nor appetites
Or will we simply cease to be, with no more days and no more nights
I gaze at all the wonders that form part of all that is
And I don’t know if they are nature’s work or they are ‘his’
I envy those who have the faith; for me, I make this call
How lucky have I been to witness all of this at all?
He grew within a frigid place
No one thought those legs would ever part
A Dark Prince thawed her frozen heart
A member long and stiff like ice
Penetrates
Cuts through the cold
His seed
His power
They both take hold
Invade
Satiate
Invigorate
Skin white as snow
begins to glow
A subtle blush
She feels the rush
Heated up
Ever so slightly
His cold blue eyes
shine brightly
She screams in the night
Pleasurable blue light
Her senses take flight
Then the dark prince goes away
The night was night and this is day
There's no desire in him to stay
With a heavy heart on the bed she lay
For him just a thing of play
Inside
His seed
Her baby grows
What is happening
she does not know
Pulse is rapid it will not slow
Her red veins
turn to blue
There is nothing
she can do
Her heart now frozen
a block of ice
She thinks cold thoughts
that are not nice
Inside the child feeds on her
The days and nights become a blur
In the middle of winter
The Ice King is born
From fragile womb
his body torn
Arrival accompanied
by a storm
Those present become statued ice
The King extracts his sacrifice
His mother spared
To her his love he shows
She wraps him in blanket
of pure white snow
His skin translucent
begins to glow
All of a sudden
the Dark Prince appears
He commands bring the baby over here
I wish to gaze upon my son
He is a truly magnificent one
He looks closely at the baby's face
Resemblance more than just a trace
Blue eyes dark they extract a toll
Sucking up the Prince's soul
The Ice King
emerges
fully grown
Regally rises to take his throne
Mother cries
Blue magical tears
Time for coronation
Rapidly nears
Diamonds fall
onto the ground
Placed in ice
The King is crowned
Linda's Free Verse Contest
Thanks to Leonora Galinta for letting me weave a story
with her Ice King. Yanny's Dark Prince has also played a roll.
Also thanks to SKAT for posting the Ice King Contest,
if she increases the number of lines I will enter.
I wrote this one before I knew there was a contest.
A child of mine was crucified
When I hung it on the cross
A child I cared for and created
I’m grieving for my loss.
It started as a tiny spark
Just behind my eye
It then became a twinkle
On which I could rely.
I was there as it was birthed
On a precious sheet of white
I nurtured and I raised it
I felt it’s future was so bright.
Coaxing gently here and there
It’s own way there to find
I was sure it would develop
It was clever to my mind.
Finally it was fully grown
Was time to set it free
Ready for its final trial
Time to test its purity.
I gently hung it on the cross
Put a sign above it’s head
For a group of peers deciding
Was it good or was it dead.
Many went right past it
Few stopped to take a peek
One or two, they tried to save it
But it’s future did look bleak.
It finally slid right off the cross
It went to god knows where
It wasn’t really cherished
But me, I held it dear.
*Dedicated to all the poets
and writers out there that
post their words for others
to read & with a bit of luck
appreciate.
I meet you in Laos
as a seed
just a simple
existence of hard rice
seeded inside Huay Xai’s dirt
until water plains
cradle and nourish your infant body
'till you sprout above water banks
where you tickle yourself
with sunshine
like a child who spends all
day with the wind
when you mature
people pull your roots
carry you in bulk back home
along with your friends
moisten your skin
steam under flames and
boiling water
only a bath where
dirt splashes off
while you try to hold
breaths underwater
your skin does not wrinkle
only softens
to stick with other rice
and sink in perfection
of the basket
where my mother’s hands
shake and shuffle you
into a ball
to roll on a plate
now fully grown ready to
liberate our hunger
with your body
that is how we meet
everyday even now
when I chew you in big bites
you never fail to fill
my head with steam
and make my tummy your
cozy home
sometimes I eat you too fast
you burn my tongue
and mom says
I am crazy for eating too fast
but it don’t matter
when I can cool
squeeze to pebble-size bits
dip you in fish soup
or papaya salad
Kao Niew
my family sits together
on the floor legs folded
or on a dinner table
you cuddle inside our bellies
warm our lips
all
the way
down
our throats
in cold evenings with no heaters
you sacrifice to
fill our stomachs
so we can stick to each other
and swallow
our love whole
With just a little coaxing I can remember when
Excitement ruled my early days when you'd come home again.
I was a boy, just seven or eight and you were fully grown.
And it was a very special time when "Brother" would come home.
You and your special Mildred, The two of you and "Wart"---
You see, I can't remember the three of you apart.
Since you were up and married before I was ever born,
I can't remember all the things that happened on the farm.
But, things I do remember -- I can remember well --
Like the gifts you brought at Christmas none others could excel. –
Like the places you would take us, Mildred, me and "Wart" --
We'd race the train to Cameron if that old Ford would start. –
Like the times we'd all go riding and it seemed the car would wiggle --
We'd look and see you steal a kiss and me and "Wart" would giggle.
Looking back, I realize the young love you both shared
Began a life together that God himself prepared.
So, no matter where I wander,
No matter where I roam ---
No thrills can match the ones I knew
When "Brother" would come home.
Author’s Note:
This was written for my oldest brother and his wife, Mildred, on the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary.
During WW2 he held a most critical position with the government in New Mexico.
“Brother” was a nickname we used for him and “Wart” was a nickname he gave his oldest son, my nephew, only one year Younger than me. He was an inspiration to everyone he met. His life story is motion picture material.
An Autumn sunrise lights a maple tree
October’s hues are edged with olive green
The vibrant background cheers the season’s glee
The mountain ridges back the misty scene
Big bears are searching after mountain caves
While mallards fly before the snow begins
The ridges form astounding leafy waves
Where folks are cutting fully-grown pumpkins
The red hawk soars beyond the dew drenched morn
hence he denies to perch and lifts above
his flight creates designs the skies adorn
and dogs pursue raccoons around foxglove.
A lively squirrel scampers to and fro
Gray rabbits bounce amid the splendid leaves
And sparkling streams outrace the brownish doe
With the adieu of summer as she grieves.
Iambic Pentameter
August 8th, 2014
©2014 by Regina Riddle
With Presidents Day coming up this Monday, I submit my tribute to the president born Feb. 12, 1809:
Ode to My Hero: Dear Abe
At many things, Abe Lincoln was the best.
From boyhood to manhood, how he shone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
I picture him a farm lad poorly dressed -
kind soul and working so hard all alone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Entertaining, Lincoln liked to jest.
Tall and strong was he when fully grown.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Great intellect and talents he possessed.
Many things he learned all on his own!
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
He led a nation facing great unrest,
for slavery dear Abe could not condone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Feb. 15, 2020 for Sheri Fresonke Harper's
Ode To A President Or Politician Or Leader Past Or Present Poetry Contest
Warm fuzzies
and butterflies
Blushing smiles
and starry eyes
Emotional reactions
that may seem overblown
From a fairy tale land far, far away,
far beyond the grasp of those who are fully grown
But for those of us who are compelled
to sigh and swoon
at the sight of two lovers, holding hands
and strolling by the light of the moon
This...is for you
This is for...the romantics
Those who like to take their time
For him, who knows she'll get lost in the rhythm of his heartbeat
And she's assured that for her...there's no mountain he won't climb
These words are meant to remind the lady that
his lips do indeed taste like honey
And the gentleman will recall, that her smile
can make even the stormiest of days, appear sunny
These verses represent..
A picnic for two atop a grassy, secluded hill
feeding each other strawberries until
they both have eaten way past their fill.
An exchange of odes and sonnets written from his and her quill
Even after the last page is shared, candied thoughts linger, still
Thus sparking a poetry slam for two, reciting heart shaped rhymes at will
Some still gleefully agree
that even in the day and age that this is
a luscious... lingering,,, kiss is...
a soft...soothing... bliss is...
Warm fuzzies
and butterflies
Blushing smiles
and starry eyes...
1/28/16
He was BILLYtheKidster. She was P D.
My little Poet Destroyer she'll always be to me.
She CRUSHED me immediately. I didn't have a chance.
We engaged an ongoing passionate slamming romance.
Long story short, the Kidster and P D
went on to get married and raise a family.
After the children were all out of the house all fully grown,
the slamming couple's romance continued to continue on.
"My little P D," I said to she,
"Do you know why I allowed you to CRUSH me immediately?
I didn't surrender. That was my sleazy tabloid way of telling all about you for all to see
that "The Poet Destroyer aka PD, Has One Major CRUSH on the Kidster aka Billy."
PD turned to me, swallowed hard and then she said,
"You have CRUSHED me Kidster. Now slam me and let's go to bed
Now you too Kidster have one major CRUSH on me apparently.
Wanna tell me how you feel about that as you slam me in bed passionately?"
This couple's still slammin hard in their retirement years.
Enjoying good slammin fun and laughter.
BILLYtheKidster and The Poet Destroyer Slammed Happily Ever After.
PD inspired me this little love story.
Don't know or care about the gender of PD.
None of that matters to me.
As far as I'm concerned, P D's just one big baby girl anyway.
Kidnapped
I plan to kidnap you~though you
are a fully grown man.
I hold for you, a bag of sweets…
My heart's sweetest confections
and then...
Get you into my car and into a dark,
thick forest.
There, my deepest love...
To please you to the fullest.
So you just can't leave me.
Beyond any measure, my dearest
love treasure.
In the woods, near a sparling stream,
Timeless,we can settle and dream
And at night lie under the stars
Serene…under God's azure love blanket.
5/4/202$
All were gone in the gust of wind.
Not yet fully grown up into a woman
She was to leave home for a man.
What type of rules are they that bind?
Young girls to quit family for another
And before time, be already a mother.
None ever bothered to know her mind.
Before she could understand her roles,
Confined she was to daily filling of bowls
And nursing babies, to which she resigned.
One day, he died, taking his own life.
Blame she carried of being a bad wife.
Their boy and girl he cruelly left behind.
In hardship for a living, she was hurled.
Hoping her angels would change her world,
Night and day, she toiled blind.
One day, she slept such a sleep deep;
Her lovely angels forever went to sleep
As if fate had kept bad luck all aligned;
For an accidental flame to give them a skelp.
She did not hear them crying for help
While they burnt alive in room confined!
28/08/16
Contest:Best Sad Poem EVER - Laura Loo (Placed 2nd)
Based on a real incident where two adolescents burned alive last week
on the first floor. The mother did hear them crying for help but too late.
(Partly fictional)
Dear Elizabeth,
From the deep ocean floor of my soul
I cannot convey
How much appreciation, thanks and gratitude
I feel for you, for being
So decent and kind
As to fill me daily and completely
With thoughts and words from your lovely mind
Concerning the uniqueness and simplicity of my own.
While I am a mere seedling of words to live by,
You are a fully grown Sequoia, complete
With roots, trunk, limbs and leaves filled with
Immeasurable molecules of thought and inspiration.
You are also one of the very few, who
Take the time to read
Above, below and between the lines
And rarely, if ever criticize
Even when criticism is overdue.
Simply put, I think the world of you.
And although we’ve never met
I’m willing to bet
If we ever came eye to eye
I’d see your soul and you’d see mine
From down below and farther still
Into the ever expanding, blue-black sky.
I don’t even know why.
Other than there’s a purity in your heart
That shines like gold
In the early morning sun.
Keep shining.
It’s transforming and uplifting
And gives to myself and others
The light we need
To keep going
And flowing, like rivers to the stars.
And should we meet up there, somewhere, some when
I’ll know you well my friend
And pray you don’t forget me from afar. Ever
So dearly and sincerely,
A grateful, faithful, fellow Poet
Despising my dull, listless time as a child,
I once wished myself to be fully-grown:
now grown, no longer am I as beguiled
by growing up (as old age I bemoan);
the wisdom of many long years is sublime;
but the salad days of youth eternal
are what makes songs of Poesy rhyme,
as shedding of life's leaves feels infernal.
Therefore, be in the winter of your life
with love: for love restores you like a tonic,
carves out the melancholy like a sharp knife
(to hush the voices so dark and demonic).
To age well, live well: so love and be loved,
and bar not the comfort of your beloved.
It cowers in the corner,
newly born.
I turn my spite-soaked back,
riddled with resentment
and pull the thin veil
to sink beneath its cover.
I will not watch it crawl,
but it breathes,
a shadow
at the edge of my own
threatening to merge.
It waits, as I do
for nothing
while I ignore its cries
and mine.
And I turn to stone
silently refusing
the darkness at my feet.
~
It screams
a piercing shrill
that grips my core.
It pokes and presses
every bruise,
clawing at my skin
with high-pitched scratches.
Enraged, I seize it.
A thunderous wrath
echoes within,
bubbling from the chambers
of my worn-out heart.
Relentless waves
crash with intent
to swallow
as a storm
unleashes its fury.
~
Fear consumes,
as the burning truth
nears the brink.
Boiling rage simmers
to a helpless desperation.
I plead for a reprieve,
a momentary pause
in overwhelming anguish.
My offers fly free;
promises,
compromises…
myself.
Left waiting,
tossing pennies
into an overflowing well,
only to watch
my wishes spill.
~
Rain cascades
from hollow black eyes,
as its touch
pierces my chest.
And,
the dam
breaks…
flooding the space
with the pent-up poison
that's been swelling within.
I swap my veil
for a heavy blanket
of fog
as hope is smothered.
Color dulls to gray,
and I surrender
to the haze.
~
It holds me
in its growing arms,
and strokes my dampened hair,
whispering comfort
as if to apologize
for its very existence.
It is mine,
born of a final breath
to dwell in my shadow,
and thrive inside a void.
I tend to it
as it tends to me,
embracing what remains,
just a fragment
of that final breath
to hold inside my lungs.
And I succumb
to its rise
from the isolated corner
as it walks beside me,
fully grown.