Best Gist Poems
Germ of an idea
Adrenaline rush
Set your own agenda
breaching convention
Step back from fatalism
airlifting invention
Curb mind meekness
a silent ring of pretension
Words of flourish
no contamination
To unlock a brain
locked on compaction
Red hair intense
thought-thread ascension
New standards of beauty
but with complication
Discovery evolving
with fertilized alteration.
Revised poem: Spring 2020
So as not to come under the scrutiny of an oncologist,
Each six months to check my moles I visit my dermatologist!
His exam is as thorough as that of an investigative criminologist.
Sometimes he'll take a biopsy and forward it to a microbiologist!
Many times he's had my moles zapped by his electrologist,
Or provides an RX for medications from the pharmacologist!
If he suspects any cell abnormalities he'll call in his cytopathologist,
Or send me down the hall to consult with his peer, the etiologist!
I don't want to come under the knife of that "cut-up", the pathologist,
Nor do I want to be listed in the obituaries by a passionless necrologist!
To keep this old frame free of moles I have no faith in a cosmetologist,
So, I'll continue to bare my hide for inspection by my dermatologist!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 6 in Nikko Palmario's "Holy MOLE-y!! Contest - August 2010
Poetry is the air I breathe,
lifeblood trickling 'tween
luscious marrow in my bones,
existentially rooted crux reflecting
Amen's utterances & hallelujah certainties
'round reality's technical formalities
foreshadowing furthermost prevalence
of comprehensive earthy assumptions
& defining whispered whimsies,
exhaled betwixt sunrise's saturated ache
for fiery transpired virtual presence,
literally composed of complicit
synchronicity resoundingly set ablaze
mid expounded otherworldly desires
I sought my truth within the sky
The squally blue, my wings to ply
A thrust on thermals, carried high
And yet, the gospel that I found?
My feet still fixed to feral ground.
I dared to plunge the oceans, deep
To burn in Neptune's coldest keep
And bleed to soft, abiding sleep
Still, dull, his trident couldn't pierce
And all endowed me? Failure, fierce.
I sought a meaning deep within
A quest divorced of flesh and skin
To hone the rusted blade of sin
But all the meat that met me there?
Long since rancid with despair.
I feigned to know a god above
A sacred purpose bound to love
Decanting boundless realms, thereof
Yet, veiled in all that bright expanse?
A dirge divine, devoid the dance.
However long we're called to stay
On this blue marble, night-to-day
Our passioned spirit finds a way
Despite our limits, sky and earth
We NEVER cease to mete our worth.
** FIFTH PLACE in the "Contest 335" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. **
Your legit style rox!!! Oh pahlease
It's incredible 2 c...learning to spell modernly, but I feel uncomfortable typing like that because it's my grammar nazi pet peeve -
You've two diff'rent sox and all that funky jazz
You'll be missed! We kissed...you read me like a series of books, not caring much about my adorbz looks
Sorree if I gawt you piss'd; sorry, ma'am or sir
Think u gawt the gist! you know my personality like I've handed you a list and you memorized it
My hart needs a fix...you haven't seen the best in me...you don't even know half of me...you can't tell I'm hurting because I hide the pain with a mask of smiles
Stix 'n stones may brake my bones; I'm stronger than I realize, I'm not alone and I'm not a failure
Did sum selfie pix !! Say cheese! Now, that's the spirit, sport! Let's be neighbor friends, no longer strangers from afar...come on, don't be shy - I won't bite and that's no lie; my oh my worthwhile words...
Before I die I beg to see
a passion built only for me;
a love that's long in destiny
and one that sets me wild and free.
Before I leave this earthly plane
my wish is that I can exclaim
the virtues of love without pain
in rapture pure without disdain.
Before my time here is all done
I need to shine under the sun;
spend life with that special one
sharing laughter,joy and fun.
Before I'm taken 'round the bend
bridges of love I hope to mend
and ecstasy's the force I send
to take me happily to my end.
written by Deb Wilson for contest"Bucket List"
What is the poetry so many write?
Hearts, souls, their passion…
The essence of feelings,
With rhythm and changing,
Pacing and flowing so smoothly…
The writing for souls and everyone’s being,
Inside and out without anyone seeing…
The people rewriting feelings and gist
In poetry,
Hearts, souls, their passion…
A daunting press of gifted dreams
The boyish boasts and sculpted schemes
Brother, fore, and brother, aft
Stead to ply their father's craft
Each consecrated to the rest
A journey spun at hap's behest
Sad the sojourn, seasons spent
Demeanor, too, in slow descent
A tattered sheet aside the mast
The binding brag that held them fast
A parried genius pawned for pay
Extorted art, la grande touche'
Spoon-fed faith to temper sins
God's impressions, yangs and yins
A sextant set to split the tacks
Fair, the wind upon their backs
Betting talent - an epoch's wage
Trust to rust, on scribbled page
Pride integral, misplaced in time
A poor man's Eden - a canted rhyme
So ford the moat, up castle's wall
One faded echo, Caedmon's call
Expired breath, a sparrow's verse
To strain the wings of kingly curse
Scabbards crossed and gauntlet down
Such gallant lads to charge the crown
The hallowed chapter of gloried tome
A heart-child lost, now hailing home
Thus ripe with moments to impart
This rarest seed with callow heart
A pauper's rhyme thru' all the years
The sweetest music to my ears ...
A music poured ... to douse the tears.
Written and submitted on February 16, 2019
For the "Music To My Ears" Poetry Contest
Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.
The dimwitted Jonathan Twist
Had much trouble getting the gist
He faltered in bed,
Confused in his head
She gave him a slap on the wrist.
written July 13, 2021
He whose life for the time being
Is horrendously unyielding
Shall be found tilting at every windmill ..
Chokri Omri
(Regueb, August the 7th, 2021)
More knowledge would have been fun
I was an idiot not to take the plunge
should have focused on versatility instead;
But was too busy enjoying the safe ride.
What’s the point of only getting to end point
if you are not going to enjoy the ride,
destiny should not be the target; but
experiences should be the ultimate take away..
7/24/2016
Quatrain #103
GIST
Glimpse in a smile a boundless glow,
Intuit clear style in joy that glows;
Stretch then each mile with finesse grand,
Touch truth worthwhile in easy flow.
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
14 Novembet 2015
Singapore
The tragedy that befall us
Are brought by the human hand
They say ignorance is bliss
And for that this seems the land
All this can be reversed
Given this right state of mind
Happiness does come from within
Just try it and you will find
It's us who controls our behavior
Not shame, pride or guilt
We all live within the walls
That in our heads we built
It's intellect over emotion
To thine own self be true
A lot of people don't get it
They haven't got a clue
This poem is to bring awareness
To those who do not know
If you seek it let me help you
A sacred path to you I will show
You must first die unto yourself
Be born again in the lord
Follow the teachings of the Bible
In this your heart must be poured
Never wander from the path
Follow it day and night
To learn it open your mind
And life will be outta sight
Play list
Clear gist
Bright books
Life looks
Fond feel
Wit wills
Soft skills
Bold fill
Now note
Test tote
Short takes
Cheer makes
List down
Gist clown
Leon Enriquez
24 October 2017
Singapore
Not much to say
No need to play
Pray on the way
To flood this day
Words have a way
To string fine say
All in good time
Touch circles rhymes
Leon Enriquez
21 May 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT