Best Glossing Poems


She Died Right There Before Me

To me, she could've said anything
I wanted so badly to hear her say,
"I love you and I'm gonna try."
But all she said is "I just can't stay."
She looked away, I stared her down.
I needed to see her eyes.
She looked at me and that's when I knew...
THIS IS THE DAY MY MOTHER DIES.
She died right there before me.
I watched her fade away.
Her eyes were glossing over
as I begged her "PLEASE, JUST STAY!"
She said goodbye and drove away.
I've learned to deal with loss.
But, now she says "I'm coming back!"
She doesn't know the cost.
To me she's dead, she can't come back.
She'll have to remember the day
that she died right there before me
when she said she couldn't stay.
© Mary Nagy  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: glossing, angst, childhood, confusion, daughter,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Earthy Glow On a Farmland

Sometime, in July's budding charm
when the harvest of earth's clay affirms
that which exposes a content heart,
I remember a glimpse of rare delight 
accepting the slow exposure of one morn
when daylight warms Grandpa’s hands
soaked in earthy glow on his farmland.

A rumbling wind turns amiable,
as bamboo drifts along lush curls
glossing the husk of our fond whispers,
oh, it is as simple as that:
his gaiety becomes an answered prayer
tasting the bliss of simple favors
bestowed by a yield of cornfields
reflecting the thrill of labor harnessed.

In a flash, I watch Gramps' hat flying
like a kite across a wispy sky,
my innocence releases a laughter’s dance
playful and blithe at age seven,
while he, born from fruits of life
ripens still, on his golden year with ease.



Rob Carmack's Golden Days
4/3/2015
Categories: glossing, happiness, places,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Biographies

Artists are not so different,
at times glossing over truth,
hiding beneath a sheen -- 
some extra linseed goes
a long way...

What is this cry for realism?!

Picasso sought deeper meaning
via grotesque breasts~ elongated
elephant snout limbs -- perhaps believing that 
the human tale needed elevation, himself
turned off by surface vistas; his squares and 
points dulled by well turned chips, projected
missile-scraps flying from Leonardo's festive lathe of 
tantalizing symmetries -- 

We marvel equally at
Dali's vaulted extremes, teetering balance --  
a bleeding martyr of old Faith; despite all his
fiend distortions, imagined glorification~ 
dear, yet mere echoes, stills from the sable of
an unrequited Christian brush -- 

So...is the poet so different?
The Metaphysical digs, tunnels,
(anthropomorphic God)
chambers and catacombs to romp
about -- secretly displacing what
would otherwise be a straightforward
pleasant lyrical walk -- We

confound paint and words

presenting two types of portrait

of the same elusive image

the greater decipher, if there is
one to be had, will never be the
product of personal tribulation, 
but the spirit behind, within, carefully
feathering, dotting and dashing
each of man's extended biographies -- 

a dance of human veils....
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: glossing, art, freedom, inspirational, introspection,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member A Fresh Start

How does one measure the past twenty four years
When smiles were so rare, drowned in many tears

Amidst trials and tribulations, the kids were our cement
Sadly glossing over our background with damaging intent

Trust went out the window, events were never discussed
Before I knew where I was, my life's in blatant mistrust

For many nights awake trying to decipher my way out
This I managed to achieve, now livings in with a shout

Separation, preparation, as I look to my future now
My flat, my music sanctuary, it's me that now allows

My future road I'll walk, but I'll never walk alone
For a Spanish Princess appeared, with I, she'll share my throne

This beauty who's entered my life, both to have a fresh start
I thank you my beautiful Lorena, from the bottom of my heart 





For the contest "A Fresh Start" written Sunday 11th March 2012
Categories: glossing, hope, life, future,
Form: Couplet

Oceananigans I and Ii

I.

Ode the thrill of a tango
curled in clutches sleek

Elegance, a prerequisite
Add on a spun euphoria

Nimble is a turgid swoon!

Arms conduct to the aria
New skin, feels no tocsin
It's deeply in a you and i
Glazed, to the tightening
and a strangling organza
Necked into a suffocation

So go the tunnel deaths…

(1/27/2021: '02 Silverton MY; Alameda ...contest theme was murder in the tunnel)

II.

Ornately, I gild over my days a’ la fresco
Carefully, I wield molten gold, enigmatic
Elaborate must these life undulations be
as metallic sheen screens all insipid aura
New cantankerous crack? Just weld upon
and smooth the jagged with flowing flora
Now the feckless plaster sparkles golden
I spurn mawkish, like the silvered literati
glossing my craven, to caverns gleaming
Aurum weaves, in its narcissistic miasma 
Nothing malodorous in self-love / loathin’
So imperious my bombastic art, it glazes!

(8.17.21 Redone at Willow Berm and DBW; theme was Craig’s Broken contest relating to Kintsugi)
Categories: glossing, addiction,
Form: Ode

The Linguist

The long glade rolls the lingering tongue                                                                          a licking fire who can tame it                                                                                           the talk of the town fame                                                                                                the gossip of the new birth                                                                                       speaking on a speculating specter                                                                                 do you see what I am saying                                                                                          as words quiz by your head                                                                                              glossing over to see fiery darts                                                                                         substances of thing not see                                                                                            on edifying myself not alone                                                                                        the Word quenching the enemy                                                                                      the promise kept older than the sandy grit                                                                perfect before and not of the same karma                                                                       He uttered Light gave rise it was so                                                                              there is only One who shears the shrewd                                                                          driving out the wicked tongue in life or death                                                                 no more babel they heard the wonderful works of God
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: glossing, jesus, language, life, spoken
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Garnet

O vibrant and rich January
Velvet sweet, warming  the icy vine;
Her crystalline - garnet evening, bright...
Red orioles, whose lilting chorus
The snowflakes, in tinsel greet: And moon
knowing a gown's ONE STONE designs
To adorn the night!...  her Capricorn
Jewel spills depicting vitality on flight,    
Glossing roses on meadows awakened
From Winter's chilled poses. These restless
burst and fragrant sighs make her throttle
In joy-- bold maiden of new dawn's sky



 Brian's Select 3 Contest
Categories: glossing, january,
Form: Personification

Premium Member Gondola

Gliding on moonlit waves
Gold filters through row boat,
Gondola twirls…it’s song
Gently romancing hours .
Guitar plays lovers’ dream,
Gay the breaths of passion
Glossing canoe’s night sail !


Pleiades G : Kim Merryman
12`01`2016
checked at www.howmanysyllables .com
and Webster's dictionary
Categories: glossing, boat, journey, romance,
Form: Verse

First Portrait of Love

Love's dawning in pixels bright
Endeared moment time did spite
Carefree minds with little foresight
Stilled in passion's ephemeral flight
Trendy pastels brimming with delight
Framed in glassy case so erudite
Glowing expressions that innocence did ignite
Now fatuous visages that only illusions highlight
Tender seconds shallow bond did requite
Token portrait skewed in maturity's plight
Colorful shades glossing pubescent rite
Now dulled glaze shadows a deeper insight
Two, burgeoning libidos sharing the 
limelight
Now silted images that concupiscence did blight
Categories: glossing, girlfriend-boyfriend, growing up,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Every Tunic’s Tucked

EVERY TUNIC’S TUCKED

squeamish that every tunic’s tucked
on one side, lopsided, uncouth
on the page, in the book - why is
every model told to tuck her hand
inside her pocket, jam her socket
into her pants, plunge me into distress.
If they want us to buy online, can’t
we size it up ourselves. I laugh
like crazy…going crazy…the lazy
love to push buttons and tuck.
well i’m out of luck, looking through
glaring pages, glossing over, needled.

insensitive to my plight? perhaps
you have your own quirk. don’t
laugh behind my back…hit me
on the chin. just don’t tuck your tunic
with your hand in one pocket. i panic
at the unprofessional modelling. i turn
away, i scorn, i feel sick. the lazy
like to set up every one the same.
their camera should be ashamed…
how lame. let me speak…let me shout.

i was kidding about the chin -
keep it to yourself…
Categories: glossing, angst, clothes,
Form: Light Verse

Silly Thoughts

Can mirth shadow sorrow,
glossing it to gay heights
where eyes shine in gaiety
and cheeks dimple with grins
or shall they pall and droop
to frowns and wrinkles?

Can tomorrow be today or 
today be yesterday or yesterday be tomorrow?
Can you die before you are born
or be born before conception?
Does it bother you that it bothers me
when you are bothered?

At times I laugh when crying 
and cry when laughing!
It’s a mystery I know,
but then mysteries are what I know
so tell me,
can mirth shadow sorrow
or sorrow mar mirth?
Categories: glossing, funny,
Form: Free verse

Sunny Days

Spiraling, spinning out of control.
Can't you tell that it's taking a toll. 
Stabbing, burning, constant pain.
Sub-par eyes glossing over again.
Today's the day to finally release;
To let go, to slip into glorious peace.
Eyes hazing, head rolling, going to sleep.
Fog thickens, head spinning; won't somebody weep.
Look up as she dies, bright skies turning gray.
No one would save her, goodbye sunny days.
Categories: glossing, 9th grade, corruption, dark,
Form: Rhyme

Unconscious and Not Breathing

Red, the colour covers my arms
Deep within are glass shards
Show me no mercy and send no regards
Don't stitch me up and cover my scars
Cut my lips, tell them I'm smiling
Every day, I keep on lying
Dishonesty quickly gets very tiring
I'm slowly rotting, slowly expiring

If anybody actually cared
Would I really be pulling my hair?
Would I really be cutting my skin?
Pulling my tendons like puppet strings?
Would my heart really miss him?
As I try to pour out all my sins
If sins were black, all would be darkness
An evil void, lonely and heartless
Choking on sadness and blinded by madness
Isolated vastness, I am feeling anxious
Razors are paintbrushes, skin is my canvas
If it's not depression, then it is malice

Before I lay in my coffin
You see my blood glossing
My eyes water as I see you panic
And my existence slowly vanish
I observe my bleeding wrists
Moving towards the sleeping mist
On bloody notes, I weakly reminisce
Wondering of my needing to exist
My skin is burning but it is not incinerated
My vision is blurry, my mind is intoxicated
My body is hollow, neatly eviscerated
I choke on rose petals, I am suffocating
Categories: glossing, anxiety, dark, death, depression,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member That What Was Then Is Becoming and Now

When the Universe created the Universe and allowed for challenge 

It was quite open to change and the preponderance of ageing times

Youth is not a crime and the respect for seniority has to be earned

Oh my Lord let there be earth under heaven it might have intuited

A primordial bang and atoms swished as mute mutations ensued


It had not considered that people were to talk back or quite forward 

Like moody teenagers or wayward sycophants refuting the Source


Seven days later the mess was complete and an apple indigested 

Abel was disabled and begetting begot generations of philistines


Time is a stretchable concept but conception quick and unpredictable

Dinosaurs passed in the flash of a pang before stones turned to bronze

And into dogma of gold mined for the pockets of inequality and gluttony


Arcs for walking on water and one lousy fish for many wretched souls

A sole and meagre bouillabaisse yet diamond soles on feet in contempt


Dinosaurs came and went stones turned to bronze and with it tools

Of destruction where synthesis and harmony should have prevailed

But that was then and there and today is here and now and counting


We have lost the abacus in computerized algorithms and the plot in the

Process of post modernity and post selfies and trivia on glittering face book

Discarded essence and existential meaning on face value of tale telling times

An icon once had a different meaning as smiling faces are arrested in botox


But not all is lost when social media and mediums hex and bewitch the planet 

Opium for the masses finds novel experiences addicted to shallow delight

Ten Year Challenge before and after a self-righteous pride in rigid acclaim


A decade is a miniscule timeline of Self that speck of dust in a galaxy

And thus I cherish my wrinkles the grey in my hair the scars and defeats

Have no need for glossing and photo shop and for the denial of passing

A crooked tooth here or there and a broken crown of vital humanity

And thus I will not diminish my hunger for living in the moment of truth

22nd January 2019
Categories: glossing, time,
Form: Free verse

Porcelain Dolls

We wanted you to be our friend
Demanding favors, wanted you to
Join us

We try so hard to make you dead
Don't worry- pain is kind of pleasure
Child

We're here
That's all we really are
We're broken
You're broken too

Memories
They're all in your head
The past is here to take you back!
Warming memories you lack

Memory has just been rotten
Sweet old times all now forgotten
Mindless scream misunderstanding
Porcelain dolls are still demanding
Can't believe that you're still standing 

Cat, dear child please come closer 
Our soulless eyes are glossing over 
Porcelain skin, cracking quickly
Your tiny frame, trembling meekly
How now, you're looking sickly

Happiness will last forever
We will always be together
Oh dear Cat there is no fear now
You have seen us somewhere, somehow
Guess you broke your final vow


Finally your small mind recalls
Us two red suited porcelain dolls.

Hey Cat, do you remember us yet?


Last lines of each stanza:  Join us. Child. You're broken too. Warming memories you lack. Can't believe that you're still standing. How now, you're looking sickly. Guess you broke your final vow.
Categories: glossing, childhood, dark, lonely, nostalgia,
Form: Quatrain
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