Best Guidebook Poems
This is a poem to tell you what poetry must be,
A how-to-write-a-poem guidebook for you, by me.
A poem must have both rhythm and rhyme,
And be happy and jumpy and apply to the time.
Have lots of imagery! Use simile and metaphor,
With “like” and “as”, your poem will have color.
Please don’t use any prose in your poems, because it often confuses the reader, and then no-one will like or appreciate your writing.
A poem mustn’t be controversial or confusing,
But straight forward- write the literary devises you are using!
If your poem is read and the reader is unsure,
Or confused as to its meaning, your poem is a failure!
It cannot be bias, or from a specific point of view,
Otherwise no-one will like your poem, other than you!
The easier and simpler your poem is read,
The better it will be- that’s what every teacher said!
Regardless of your poem, make sure you never,
No matter what you’re writing, don’t use sarcasm, not ever!
Today I questioned reason with rigor.
I tried to find an explanation for my being.
A rhetorical question with mystifying vigour,
that opens doors to new ways of seeing.
The first thought drafted a blatant visual,
of characteristics found in a mirror tall.
Vanity, greed and desire, all perpetual….
Concluding that the biggest always fall.
So how do I define my self in my humanity?
How do I portray my existence in flesh?
The answer therein stews false piety,
offering another creature caught in mesh.
Then who am I, should you ask?
Our content in consideration akin.
Thought, emotions and thirst locked in cask,
or just a random soul rapped in skin?
Maybe a stranger to this time for a joke,
searching reason in the scrip to this play?
Awaiting the night to croak,
companion of death where it lay,
concealed in its pitch-black coat.
In the distant horizon my answer float.
That means that for the moment all to see,
is that in the here and now I am where I should be.
With crack of first light of dawn
The day's work begins; sleep's gone
Gather food; cook
Aroma fills air, breathe on.
Spices, herb bouquet add-on
Day has great outlook
Just short time to lay eyes on
My poetry notebook write-on
Bible read on
Just as Bible is guidebook
For life, food needs a cookbook
Then meals invite
Reading Bible helps outlook
On life, cookbook gives new look
Or change outright
In life wrong way you may have took
Not too late_change_read handbook
Get it now right
The reward is great as bite
Nutmeg_sugar laced delight
Good baked apple
Simple food, life live right
Change become a guiding light
Be ensample
Eat good food_let soul soar heights
Longevity_inner light
No thorn apples
Sponsor:David Williams
Contest:Virelai
friend
encyclopedia own hundreds notions, but the most important answers of the
life's questions one can't find there. the colleague
vocabulary own myriad words, but the most significant sentenses of the
life's speech one can't gain there. the guidebook atlas
own thousands maps, but the most paramount way of the life's path one
can't see there. the buddy calendar own the
clock's time, but the supreme hour of the life's extreme one can't
measure there
Humans never grow out of their teenage phase
Unclear what an adult means
They are subjected to responsibility
Requiring maturity, no human has proven to be
Various other targeted teenagers
Attempting to guide the novice
Helping them tie their shoes
To walk on paths, they had once walked bare feet
Them, so-called gentlemen, mentor,
As the bud blooms into the dark reality
An experienced juvenile conversing
Stating life journeys, hoping to serve as a guidebook
Meaning to say that any lifeblood part of nature
Accepts, and adjusts to the new actuality
Broken in the flow of his statement
Says an older owner of a soul -
refuse to accept any problem your way
vindicating your true potential and strengths
another survivor disagrees
debating that refusal and acceptance reduces into jealousy
an unresolved human fate,
scaring the whole journey
agrees she is of the same level into subsistence
quoting what once, her teenage guide taught her at ease
jealousy turns into revenge
absence of validation can cut so deep
losing control of your feelings
others just call hormonal brain freeze
but you are that undefined adult
who has now understood you can't survive solo
demanding for comfort and trust
something the trained call love
but that's embarrassing
since you agree that you are lonely
she is agreed by the oldest living entity
hope can crumble you into specs of dust
but that’s how you will realize something on your own
the bud agrees and says:
the only human emotion
negatively powerful enough
is the feeling of being unable
unable to be
unable to be confident to walk barefoot on an unknown path
unable to adult
and humorously realizes, that, able is what an adult is supposed to be.
Understanding me is not an easy task,
It takes a while to see behind my mask.
I’m kind, caring and hardworking,
Don’t mistake that for being easy going.
I’m like a Rubrik cube to put it plain,
No two sides are the colors the same.
My heart values are the only constant,
Change is an element of life constant.
Only a few people really know me,
You only see what I want you to see.
Quite reserved when you meet me,
It takes a while to really know me.
I can reel you in like a fishhook,
Teaching me is like reading a guidebook.
By no means am I an open book,
Knowing me requires a closer look.
We went to romantic Scotland for our honeymoon on Hogmanay
Had no idea it was a rather special brunette-only-welcome kind of day
My husband tried to go into the lobby of the bed and breakfast twice.
He is Dane, and blonde, so they barred the door not twice, but thrice.
What is going on? I asked him, when he came back to bed, all mad.
No idea, he said, but they would not let me in. He acted kind of sad.
They kept yelling Hogmanay, and I have no idea what that means.
I ran down to find out, I was met with shrieks, whistles and screams.
Retrieved guidebook and looked up Hogmanay to see what I could see.
Superstition says day after December 31st your next visitor should be
A male with brunette hair, if you want to have any kind of luck.
We had chosen Scotland during Hogmanay. I had to say “Oh, Fruck!”
Praise be to You, Almighty God
Thank you for recording the Sacred Scriptures, the Bible.
We read Your written Word; we hear Your spoken Word;
if we write and speak in reference to the divine,
we must be careful not to change even one little word.
Father, I do not understand, but all praise is Yours.
No human can comprehend the work of your Spirit,
in interpreting what the Bible brings to our minds.
Praise be to You, Our Creator
At creation, You spoke the universe into being.
Over the chaos of nothingness, your Spirit hovered
and worlds were formed, networks that form a bridge
from the mighty sun to the tiniest individual cell.
At the tower of Babel, you confused the language
of men and scattered them across the whole earth
to thwart their evil thoughts of making a name for themselves.
Praise be to You, Our Savior
Jesus, You are the living Word, full of grace, full of truth.
At the age of twelve, you astounded the Temple elders by your words;
You were doing your Father's business.
The Beatitudes, the Sermon on the Mount tell how you want us to live.
Protect them from weak translations and deliberate change.
We need no other words than the Bible which has stood
for two thousand years to guide our spiritual growth.
Praise be to You, the Holy Spirit
You speak not on your own authority, but by the sanction
of Him who spoke the world into being.
You put the words in the hearts and minds of forty men who
wrote the Bible, His Holy Word, our guidebook.
Give us understanding so we can be true testimony to
God's goodness - His love, His truth, His grace.
My prayer: to never degrade or misuse Your holy Word.
I regret
there is no guidebook for love
..I regret
manual to parenthood
I too regret
mistakes and anxious concerns
as you grew,I too,slow to learn
I regret
there is no guidebook for love
..I regret
manual to parenthood
I too regret
not speaking, aloud my love
..I regret
wanting, too much for you
I too regret
seeking ,what you could not see
...I regret
trying ,to make you too much like me
.. I regret
there is no guidebook for love
Watch the people walking –
Check their bodies, not their faces.
You can tell a lot as they
Perambulate their paces.
Strutters filled with confidence
Step lively, arms a’swinging,
Silently announcing
It’s their “A” game they are bringing.
Trudgers tramp with labored tread –
They’re carrying a weight;
Dispirited, they have no place
To which they might be late.
Tourists amble merrily;
They traipse on guidebook treks,
Jauntily meandering,
Their cameras ‘round their necks.
On any city street, observe –
Analysis awaits,
For there’s a lot to learn
By scrutinizing people’s gaits.
Spread the maps out on the living room floor,
Like I've done so many times before,
Getting ready for a trip to be made at a future date.
I prefer to plan early,rather than to wait.
Then too, I have my little travel guides
Of scenic views, campgrounds-and much more besides
So I figure out the mileage, and compute the driving time,
And decide which routes will make my easiest travel line.
But I need another element for my preparation:
First I must select my final destination!
My maps were drawn by voyagers who've already passed through,
And,based on their encounters, I believe these maps are true.
Yes, there have been many others who have already crossed the land,
And they have left reports of views that are so grand.
In my living room today, I can choose which route I'll take,
Bu, until I make the trip I know not what detours I shall make.
There is one final journey--required of us all;
And it is as solo travellers that we must heed that call!
We do have a Guidebook, which reveals to us the Way,
But we must begin to study it, a little bit each day.
I believe my Guide is accurate, and that the Book is true.
If you would like, I can share my Map with you.
Our Destination is described with relatively few details;
Yet we must arrive there: we absolutely dare not fail!
The only Way is by the route of the Cross!
Any other route selected, will result in tremendous loss.
All any traveller needs, has been purchased by the King,
And it's at His invitation that we even hope for such a thing.
Dig out your map and Guidebook;start preparing today
For life's greatest journey--because here we cannot stay!
Charlie Pelota HSLP March 18 2007
“12For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” Heb 4:12 NIV
The Word of God is living and active—
Sharper than a double-edged sword;
Penetrates and divides soul and spirit;
Judges man’s ways found in discord.
It’s only by absorbing God’s words
That these words change the heart;
Led by the Holy Spirit—
Greater truth daily to impart.
The Word of God encourages—
Gives hope for life immortal.
After the breath (soul) departs
Death’s kiss becomes final.
Because the Word of God is living,
It’s like no other book;
Has the power to change lives,
When we use it as our guidebook.
The Word of God is powerful
Unlike the words of man—
For man’s words are not living;
In comparison are bland.
That’s why we need to pray
Before we open God’s word.
Pray for the Holy Spirit,
His understanding to be heard.
Because the Word of God is living
It’s precious to the soul,
Who searches for the truth;
Longs to find each keyhole.
It opens up the eyes
And softens hardened hearts;
Enables us to love our enemies;
God’s plan of redemption it imparts.
Copyright © 2009-2011 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com
Who initially determined what is good and what is bad? What to think, and what not to ask? Why the hell doesn't anyone else voice more questions like that? Why are most people sheep that get caught up In Corruption, which evokes disturbances within their DNA that promotes external long-lasting destruction?
These polluted ideas the media sinisterly pumps, the more their smile turns, the more ours become a less innocent one. False power increases with the more sheep they recruit to herd. The evil Shepards of the dark world know weak minds hang on to their every word. I wonder if those sheeple know they have a choice. You can follow the crowd or find your inner voice.
I, like many at a young age, was drilled with the notion you must obey. You can't have that until you do this. You shouldn't say that, God doesn't like disrespectful dirty kids. Taught to be someone I was not and never understood the power of self-thought. Growing in age it's become more clear, everything I was taught was based on someone else's fear. It's these false mantras that have traveled many bloodlines through. It's all the lies our ancestors passed onto us, that I promise you are not true. We don't need a life guidebook to abide by.
The way we choose to live and think is a choice, that should be yours or mine. No social standard or trend will dictate what I do. I will not join the crowd of following people who have no real clue. If you don't break the cycle of doing what they tell us to, then you will never be free from the chains of past ancestral curses and people's fears bestowed on you. I'm choosing to think thoughts of my own and feel things as I should and not the way I was told. It's not going to happen overnight. These are years and years of words I have to rewrite.
Grab a hold of YOUR life, you have the power of choice. Don't forget when you speak to use your voice.
I readily admit I am a country bumpkin
But I am no buffoon
I am in this to build others up
To help others win
To raise up my neighbors and my friends
We hear about the coastal towns
Both east and west coast have terrific reputations
Their people are more sophisticated, more stylish, chic.
It is fashionable at both coasts to be less hands-on.
To be less community oriented.
In the big citiies of the coasts, people on the streets do not speak.
They do not smile.
They do not say “hi”.
They walk past each other, like trotting lamp posts.
Not noticing faces or inflections.
Not noticing humanness in each other.
I am in New York City today, trying to figure it out.
Where is a guidebook to help me unlearn social niceties?
How can I immediately become less human? Less caring?
How do I not say “hi” to everyone I pass?
Is there a manual? A cheat sheet? A U-tube video?
Too late. I am already here, feeling miserable.
Wishing I was back in the Midwest where it is okay to care about strangers.
~ ~ ~ ~
Looking up I was so awestruck,
suddenly my muse was unstuck;
oh windstorm_
I saw a huge flock of bluebirds,
singing a song so long unheard;
oh rainstorm_
I got out my poem notebook,
my poetry cookbook, guidebook;
oh brainstorm_
Oh joy and glee- I am carefree,
yes, I have opened the latchkey;
oh firestorm_
Muse came to me on the skyline,
with bluebirds flying a grapevine;
oh snowstorm_
________________________
May 8, 2020
Poetry/Compounding Verse/Muse Came in a Storm
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1249-637-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Compound Verse
sponsor, Joseph May
Third Place