Best Grayest Poems


Premium Member Tenth Cycle

Just twenty days. The mystical
Libra will turn rosette boughs into
fading auburn… nights combing
the breeze colder and quite somber ,
as if women on bare hilltops await
the arrival of men in some far oceans 
when bleached summer gives way
to icicles of endurance so patient
and wives, lovers tremble in this anticipation
swaying 
back and forth, balancing the cold 
clutches of afternoon’s light and
destitute clouds wearing mufflers
for near or far elegies of snow.
It is grippingly delicate: I mean, watching
the changing hint of a breeze growing
paler.
Yet wiser is October rising to chip the
glow of studded stars, bit by bit, dying
in the gray of grayest sleet to bear 
the tunes of venial woes. Yet, it is the cycle
when courage bides its time for amiable joy.
It is the cycle when her adolescent stage
transforms ladies into maids-in-waiting...
how much longer must the women endure
to find an armada of loved ones back home?
And the weight of contentment drips, drips
in a season fulfilling its own quest.

There are
no answers; only reflective surrender.


Contest: Waiting
Sponsor: james rogers
9/10/2015
Categories: grayest, introspection, october, endurance,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Thoughts of Black Or White Or the Grayest Gray

My eyes wide through window stand
Sun rising compel thoughts of black or white or the grayest gray 
Discernment from reality which is left or right hand
In a hundred lifetimes could I sway
The one answer from your lips grace

Becloud evergreens at the peak of the chill air
Heavens movement playing chase and enlaced
Cathedral veils amidst angels' illusion glory there
Your vision of crevasse darken ash in its place

Can two opposite narratives about something be errorless? 
Nature melts souls unlike each other through gracious airs
Adding spice and passion to ignite one needs and desires
Of the flesh; yearning  unfulfilled sweet and sour  affairs

2/16/2017
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: grayest, love, nature, perspective,
Form: Rhyme

Winter Rain

Have you ever taken the  time to watch rain  fall in winter? 
See the beautiful symmetry of it; listen to the gentle splash?
    Watch the lacy curtain of moisture against the background of winter 
darkened trees.
 Drops, like shiny gems, are clinging to graceful branches. 
Others, growing in size until they are too heavy to hold on any longer, run down my 
windshield; their path erratic and wiggly. 
   There is so much beauty in Nature, even on the grayest day. 
It is in the peaceful pitter-patter of the descending rain. 
In the gentle ripple that appears as it enters a puddle.
 And in the heavy, leaden and mighty clouds that travel our wonderful world.
Categories: grayest, introspection, nature, seasons
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Tale of the Last Warrior

Wouldst, such mortal traverse the crags of Ne'ermere tails,
tis a grayest hour whence Luna's twilight flits her crown whipped
freed of mnemonic shimmers.

Hail winds bade the cliffs fond too well,
the forest dwelleth quietude, erring not to wake ired beasts.

The Black fog rose amidst digits crag,
gorging deeply in a slithering bout,
its murky poking hazing to edge's where hast steep crevices befallen
debris burdens.

Forgiven enemies miserably hast to but exclaim vapid
excuse faltering, absent of morals that yield despair
heightens.

Invasive spirit's of Ne'ermere hatha steered lost souls to the steppes,
to the moors.

The ambling blood moon followed a selection of bane thoust chose for
dying, fast coming.

Inky's inscript on columbine petals are guarded riddle,
steeped in thine devil's brew of concoctions.

Constant a stirring from tri-conjurers and duo warlocks
of ruin, loss, and havoc--locals all of Ne'ermere.

A daring wraith bidst the gifts amassed of bless souls,
the voids of trifled entities of a doomsday.

Shortening the navigated souls in their mortal state of decay,
their tenuous grasp of wilted massive fibrous veins. 

Remnants of a vigorous life surrender to their authentic demise via a 
hall between perishing slow or death's blow.

Truly, a proper act of granting reassemblage their formers,
Earth's finality prompt sail to the sunrise of the ancients,
and a warriors welcoming.
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: grayest, courage, endurance, imagery, meaningful,
Form: Metrical Tale

Premium Member Lord I Am So Glad You Are In My Life

Lord I’m So Glad You Are In My Life

Beneath the heavens
Dreams hued in cherry blossoms
Spring bloom tulips of perfect love
Leaves sing a lullaby
Seeds bound on its own perfume
Tranquil smells of nature
Overflowing with life

Years brought darkness
Waves of emotions
Thoughts of black or white of the grayest gray
Fear and hate
Life or death
Leave in our wake
Imprisoned and the want for freedom

Strife,  please stop knocking at my door

Heartache pages turned
Stained with tears
Releasing the world bound to the pages
Page by page
Peace of yesterday I yearn

Blessings of the Holy Spirit
He stands lookout
With love and forgiveness in His heart
Absolution for my sins
New day, new beginning, new life
A haven of order

Faith in God makes a difference
Bond of love forevermore

Go forth with loud screams
Crying Holy unto My Lord
Sing the song of love and loyalty
God’s Divine Glory


Lord I’m so glad you’re in my life


6/11/2017
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: grayest, blessing, god, life, ,
Form: Verse

Remember

“I can’t remember you, but you are pretty,” said the old man
Tears formed in the eyes of the woman

"Who are you?"
His voice was the grayest of blues

"Are you my new doctor? Or perhaps a nurse?"
Silently, the woman took something out from her purse

The photo was a wedding shot of a young pair
His smile was dimpled and wide, and she had curly hair
The woman handed the photo to the old man
Setting it on his shaky hand

He stared at it long and hard, trying to remember
He looked at the date in the back—the 13th of December
He looked at the woman in sudden surprise
“Marianne!” He cried with joy. “Of course, my wife!” 

She left the room without another word
That was the name of his first wife—and she was merely the third
Categories: grayest, allegory, depression, funny, romance,
Form: Rhyme


My Little Bag of Joy

In this road we call life
I carry with me sunshine,
To spread joy from the deepest sea
to the distant skyline.

When feeling down, not making a sound
I open up my purse,
I peek inside, and Lo! and Behold!
My bad feelings disperse.

When the grayest rain-cloud flies over my head
and brings a heavy storm,
I open my bad and Voila!
That rain can't do me any harm!

When the lights go out, I'm timid as a mouse
And all hope seems to be gone
I let out my light and open my eyes
to see the beautiful dawn.

In this road we call life
I carry with me sunshine, 
To spread joy from the deepest sea
to the distant skyline.

I Carry With Me: Sunshine
Categories: grayest, happiness, inspirational, lifeme, joy,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Island of Broken Dreams

Along life’s seashore grows my rundown tree,
It’s roots charting a past that drains away
Where  branches limp    no longer fancy-free
To  pale against one ardent summer day:

Hyacinths  caress me  as I drag by
While rainfall thaws the elder leaves  which rip
Hours spent with my child...when dark tides imply
A troubled crest of farewell losing breaths’ grip.

How dreams on an isle engulf ardor’s pact
For toss of waves crashes like brittle glass,
Shattering his tomorrows, now abstract
That never can flowers shade grief, alas!

Boney brown leaves now  fall from the willow ,
For I’m draped  in the  grayest of sea-dune...
Although  a wind echoes our trill  quite hollow
This heart freezes      unmoved in my cocoon.



Written For Broken  Wings' Contest
Empty Your Soul With Words: Theme 4
Quatrain form: abab rhyme  11/21/2017
Categories: grayest, child, grief,
Form: Quatrain

Look To the Rock of Ages (Partial Version-Part One)

Let us not aim to build our houses upon the sand, but rather...
look to the Rock of Ages who came before us in this Land

A happy heart can make a glad face
in this ungodly wretched rat race
There are those that scare, and those that don't care
yet, there is nothing that is new under the sun
so just keep serving Our Consistent Holy One
Let us not aim to build our houses upon the sand,but rather...
look to the Rock of Ages who came before us in this Land

Now, look to Heaven, build ya'lls heart's treasure
and in time to come , the Lord will measure
just rise above and move onward, soldier
and with your faith ,become ever bolder
become a living oasis in this arid desert-land
for those that are parched with a terrible thirst
don't wait for others to do it; ya'll go ahead and be the first
Let us not aim to build our houses upon the sand,but rather...
look to the Rock of Ages who came before us in this Land

Become a lighthouse within the sea
for those lost souls to come to thee
Now, mercy can equal crosses and homework 
for those who have been made wide-awake
so we do our reasonable service ,at least ,for the Lord's sake

Remember Nicodemus was mixed among the weeds,
now let this be your guide when you set out to plant some seeds
To whom much is given, much is required;
a lifetime of practice that should not be retired

May we search the Holy Book to crumble down those walls
and sing Mariam's Song of Victory as we deck the grayest halls
We walk by faith,and not by sight
we must have hope in our Heavenly fight
and endure until the end; keep focused,my friend
Let us not aim to build our houses upon the sand,but rather,
look to the Rock of Ages who came before us in this Land

Copyright McCuen 2009
© Mc Mc  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: grayest, faith
Form: Prose Poetry

Serving Tea To Elderly

The grayest speck of hair- so many-
each live through a tale called series of days.
The elderly hands have touched so many
that it wears the hand's skin out of youthful ways
That is what I witness when serving them tea,
but seen in their eyes is just a another mid evening.
Categories: grayest, life, people, sympathy,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member What Is Broken, Still Has Beauty

What is broken,
Still shines great beauty...
Whoever or whatever that reaches the inside of me,
Is a treasure worthy enough for me to forever hold...

When night comes,
My feelings and thoughts truly unfold...
During the darkest of my hours,
I unleash my expressive powers...

While the dawn hast come,
My energized mind numbs
For only a moment,
I will wait...

The sun rises
As the deepest gates of my imagination
Flood open and bring on the waves of emotion.
Winds of hope blow away my tears...

And the inner sea, in me,
Begins to shine colours,
From the bluest of all these days,
To the grayest of my depressed ways...

These gray waters...
Change into a glow of hopeful silver...
And at long last, I let go of the past,
As this sea is painted gold by the eternal sun...

I am saddened and gladdened, here and there...
Yet, whatever is broken...
Still shines great beauty...
Categories: grayest, beauty,
Form: Free verse

Sayonara, Year of Stagnation

Ever free to traverse my world
Yet shackled to an eleven year old promise
I donned a platinum cloak atop a living mountain
Physically high, emotionally low

I held two pairs of hands
While my heart beat out a painful rhythm
A handshake that formed my first friendship
And a typed message that united two lovers

The grayest skies I've ever seen
Sheltered my screens from the sun's glare
Thousands of miles away
Cherry and Lime linked across the expanse

A month of birth and traditions
Lay in shattered pieces under my triumphant body
Barely lucid and smelling like a bar
I held the sun in one hand and victory in another

The strongest scores I'd seen in decades
Danced on a melting page in the summer heat
An old acquaintance left as a master
And in came trouble and a new air conditioner

Ungodly hot and disconnected from the Expanse
I sat in three prisons with only them to guide me
Ever hungry, ever bored, ever exhausted
I ripped victory from the warden's clammy hands

Finally free to bask in the summer sun
I immediately hid in a dark, familiar cave
The winds of love began to whisper in the rustling leaves
As I smiled at the screen I knew as them

I returned to a place I romanticized as Nirvana
Six years later and a completely different man
That world was smaller than I ever imagined
Yet meant more to me then than it ever had before

Pulling the first of my overtime hours
I stopped caring about the work that must be done
My stomach growled and my shorts fell off
Sleep-deprived and starving for whatever scraps there were

Immobile once more, the world began forming around me
Future roads, unbreakable connections, pitch-black voids
The world and all of its frightening futures slipped away from me
And with it, the rest of the year

A dusk enshrouded airport brought them to me
The lover who saved me from past year's poems
As their world and body enveloped me
My aches, woes, scars and tumors melted in their embrace

With a new fire lit inside me
Stoked by anxiety, despair and hope
I don a new cloak of coffee-brown and boom-pole black
And shout into the Expanse once again to open my world
© Derek Chos  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: grayest, introspection,
Form: Free verse

Revel In My Ruins

virgin feet,
i stepped onto the quicksand
in ignorance of it’s
deceit.
as the clouds
overhead draw
together in the
grayest anger,
my heart hurts for relief.
i stand tall, but
that doesn’t change the
reality of this
disaster.
you were a tornado that
spun me for a loop;
so much destruction
in such a short time.
i can’t admit my defeat so
i’ll suffer in silence and
watch you walk away.
no matter if there’s nothing
left for me to rebuild
myself:
this is the end.
Categories: grayest, dark, friend, grief, heart,
Form: Free verse

Simple Short Phrases

Simple short phrases


Taken from the grayest clouds,
charcoal mist collecting my thoughts
Entwining my heart with pointed sorrow
as my stupidity takes center stage to a sold out show

Weakened at the knees, disjointed disappointments,
assumptions falter my eyes 
Blinded by the sight of one more 
licking the seasoned wounds of past regrets

Channeling frustrations with a remote, the mute button not working
Shoe fittings find my mouth, at least in silent words
Crying inside and outside too,
rivers of lost dreams stored in a mason jar…its lid rusted shut

Wrenching my fingers, twisted knots,
lacing fears that are merely a mirage
yet still flourish in desert dreamscapes fluctuating
as camels drink from my oasis on Wednesdays

Then, as if a window opens, words are heard

simple short phrases 
tiny syllables counted
in Haiku fashion

and in an instant my heart spins in circular motions
A smile of winged happiness adorns my face,
sun pours through and zephyrs unfurl their sweet aromas,
dancing from flower to flower…to my heart

It is amazing how words can affect us
when all it takes is a whisper of affection, 
from you to me, to make this moment, 
this day, this world…the perfect place
Categories: grayest, love, words,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Grayland

GRAYLAND

Grayland,
The grayest little town
that I have ever been to
where the people are peaceful
the beaches are wide and the water is gray

The fog like a thick blanket or a thin curtain
covers the other side of the fence and the ends of
the busy road but neither toad or deer tries to cross
 at any time due to fear of bears who dare to sneak around
and traffic that zooms on through to Tokeland or further
© John Long  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: grayest, analogy, beach, city, tribute,
Form: Free verse
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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