Best Guises Poems
A Look Back at Eighteen Months Here-The Show is Over
When your poems reside in a shoe,
like mine,
pounding the pavement to nowhere.
The onset of blisters isn't imagined.
Those blisters take roots,
hindering your motivation
to move-
and to continue to write.
It hurts.
Seeing those poems take residence
in pity.
Sans the
comfort of
leather and lace,
shine and sole,
all of which would have been nice.
But all my eyes see are my poems,
tucked away in worn loafers,
unpolished,
unnoticed.
Not exactly eye candy.
But eyesores ...judging by the lack of views, here.
And undoubtedly my shoes made of synthetics
and sneakers
to the purveyors of good poetry
and good shoeshine.
I look down for good reason,
defacto
and stigmatized,
no contest wins,
no poems ever in the top 100 (new) list,
no scent of roses (or views),
nothing.
Nothing.
An abyss of sublimity,
save for the white bird
that chirps
to nobodies ears.
To wit.
For he who signs up for this site
got a handful of mixed emotions,
confetti less tomorrows,
a begotten rah, rah,
a ladle of spiel,
poems published ...
and in my case alone footnote
that I was a member
sans the shoe shine.
I really have to admit,
writing here,
eighteen months now,
has taken its toe.
I have no one to blame but myself.
Kind Regards,
connie pachecho
4/26/2018
The proprietor of the show has decided to call it quits, citing mental health issues here. The posse of black bears got to me. The guises, pretense, and hate towards me eroded my spirit. Tell her she can play with my insanity but not my spirit. To my readers, I really appreciate your patronage during this journey here even though the crops are bare and the barn fronts a blank stare.
The cows fight with the pigs, and bacon went to waste. One thing I take is the seed in me to aspire elsewhere, which I've already planted at HP under the name Logan Robertson. Thanks again. Wish everybody the best.
Facets Of Love.
.
Love has many facets and guises
And many varied shades
It has the power for your heart
To feel the ravages of winter
Ot your heart to sing on summer days
.
It can hold you both slave and prisoner
Or set the caged dove free
Lead you to the gutter
Or empower you to be
.
It inspired many a song
And words of thoughtful poetry
Love has caused many a war
Ending in both in defeat and victory
.
Caused many a soul to die
And many souls to survive
But one can only truly love
When one is alive
.
Selfless love to others
While putting they're own life’s at risk
It can override free will
Thirsty for another’s kiss
.
It can give you tomorrow
Or leave you yesterday
It’s shown by affection actions
And in the acts and words you say
.
Love brings offspring made out of love
It drives many to faith and devotion
To another power up above
.
The love of a mother
Maybe the greatest love of all
But you have to love yourself first
Before love comes around to call
.
Love can open up your eyes
Or make you blind
True love is forgiving giving and kind
It can melt the coldest heart
And heal a damaged soul
True love is forever young
And never grows old
.
It may not matter
If you are a pauper or a king
For true love has no boundaries
No matter what others believe and say
Love is a gift from God
For the pure of heart
To spread love to others every day
Even if they ate strangers
You meet upon your way
.
For I believe despite our differences
We are all brothers and sisters
Under the same moon stars and sun
And no heart is ever won with hatred and a gun
.
Love of God has promised us
A new earthly paradise
Open your eyes look around
At the world in chaos
It’s the only hope we have got.
.
Peter Dome©2021.
How much do I know
of how reality plays?
Can I touch the sun
always on a fine day
Can I see inside you
perhaps using X-rays
Can I skip a heartbeat
if she comes my way
Can I fix the future
it’s best to make hay
Can I reflect myself
damn mirror broke today
Can I overcome fear
so far so good anyway
Can I know what’s true
of course by going astray
Can I justify reason
much easier than dismay
Can I show you God
maybe it’s best to pray
Can I define reality
only what my mind betrays
Can I be immortal,
in death, time goes away
Can I rise up again
in endless guises, I’d say!
Break the mirror Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
03/05/23
Dawn collapses Night, the stars disappear,
the crickets fall silent, and Sol rises.
And ebony bleeds with a scarlet smear,
as Nature dons one of many guises.
A sea of blue washes across the sky
as sunbeams color clouds candyfloss pink.
And as dragonflies flex their wings to fly,
shadowy silhouettes silently shrink.
While twittering songbirds sing to the sun,
butterflies fly from flower to flower.
And on silken threads that a spider spun;
dewdrops gleam in the early morning hour.
With one turn of Earth's planetary gear
Dawn collapses Night; the stars disappear.
clouds up playfully dancing in the sky
scrapes and patterns nonchalantly floating by
shrouds of marshmallow forms that mystify
cottoncandy shapes in guises quite flamboyant
grounded gusts released on wings of butterfly
landscapes enjoy their suitors so gallant
magical theatrics in slow motion
whimsical courtship games incite emotion
AP: 3rd place 2025
Submitted on June 9, 2019 for contest RIMA OTTAVA sponsored by CHARLES MESSINA - RANKED 3RD
As Blacken Monsters Paint Themselves As Glowing White,
Dedicated to, Ghost Writer
As darkness wields its deep slashing demonic blades,
sanity seems to be malignant tour de force,
corruption flows along hiding in wicked shades
as malicious malady on a tragic course!
One must hold steady if life is true to liven.
For we face truth, if sin is to be forgiven.
As evil dances in its guises and parades
slicing innocent hearts to laugh and watch them bleed,
from black abyss, spring such malevolent charades
beastly feedings to sate arrogant selfish needs!
One must hold steady if life is true to liven.
For we face truth, if sin is to be forgiven.
As blacken monsters paint themselves as glowing white
and too many simply refuse to this farce see,
do we flee, abandon others to hidden blight
does land race away from the waves of crashing sea?
One must hold steady if life is true to liven.
For we face truth, if sin is to be forgiven.
As life, its beauty, its sweet treasures offer up
and our deepest hope and dear dreams are ours to keep,
dare we in defiance, from adversity sup
or silently yield to darkness, too scared to sleep?
One must hold steady if life is true to liven.
For we face truth, if sin is to be forgiven.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-10-2020
Rhyme, Dedication poem
( A Poetic Answer To Greg Barden's Poem, ("Ghost Writer")
Her presence
Is not conditional
On her existence
Her senses honed
Through endless lives
She sees as well
With eyes closed
She is the perfume
Of a springtime
After- shower breeze
She has done this
So many times
In so many guises
She is the water
That brings life
She is the life
That shares life
She can smile
In her sleep
And all the angels
Can take their rest
She uses pen and mind
To explore different worlds
She makes us smile
When our wounds are bad
That God created her
We are forever thankful
Is it poetry or prose
Who really knows
Must it be in a shelf
To rename itself.
This is a conundrum which has appeared here, in various guises over the many years I have enjoyed the talented 'writes' of the talented scribes who contribute their thoughts/feelings/desires and offerings in many forms.
However, the famous Irish playwright and wit, Brendan Behan was invited many years ago to Oxford University, to participate in a debate on this topic.
His opponent spoke eloquently for almost two hours on the important distinctions and the quality of prose.
Behan then rose to his feet and promised to be brief . He recited an old Dublin rhyme .
" THERE WAS A YOUNG FELLA NAMED ROLLOCKS
WHO WORKED FOR FERRIER POLLOCKS
AS HE WALKED ON THE STRAND
WITH A GIRL, BY THE HAND
THE WATER CAME UP TO HIS .... ANKLES"
"That" declared Behan "is prose. But if the tide had been in , it would have been poetry".
Nigeria & the New Year Presidential Gift
SILENCE
Silence! Stillness! Silence! Inaction!
All guises of an impending eruption
The only sound of merriment
Is in the coterie of increment
I wish there could be joy in this clime
Like the pleasure you get from my rhyme
Our busy rails, ports and roads
Are our platforms for relieving our heart-loads
On boards, boldly written are our words in hues
Is it our turn to be deprived of shoes?
We trek the streets proclaiming a new birth
While our detractors soar like birds in mirth
Silence! I encounter silence everywhere I ambled
Is it true that our peace has been gambled?
There are only two persons I see
The first person, a damsel, I glee
I will never have seen her, thanks to subsidy
But to Keats "beauty is truth, truth beauty"
I would have fallen for her seductions
But I resisted her like subsidy attractions
I would have blindly succumbed, rejecting truths
Now I discern why all hands protest, even youths
Our pains increase yet no decrease
All we patients, diagnosed for the same disease
Our misery, their fortress; our words, our refuge
We persist, our tears for justice in deluge
Empty promises sadden our weary lobe
Hence; we seem the dystopian part of the globe
The second person, like the Ancient Mariner
Expressed his pains and fears in this manner
"Once upon a time, in their kingdom, animals –
Birds, reptiles, insects, aquatic and mammals –
Rejoice over the death of their brutal king
In unity and hilarity, they dance and sing.
'At last,' they said, 'it’s now authority, no more power;
Our words and woes will be respected in the new tower;
No despot reign, but a shepherd for us all sheep,
Tender-heart and loving; his promises, he will keep;
Our promise land! A new captain to steer our ship
He will use the mace to direct us, not as a whip'
All - ignorant of the dead despot’s fairy - are whining:
For he was alive and in a shepherd’s cloak, ruling"
Then the tale teller asked, 'Alas, Is that their lot?
Who's now leading, the shepherd or the despot?'
A holy man, a profit of God, but of what God?
Rasputin the black snake of Eden, endowed with
Silvery fork tongue of the viper.
It slithered into the golden palace of paradise,
Coiling and oiling around the royal cradle of
Innocence, constricting it within the folds of lies
And deceit until the inhabitance could not breathe,
Or escape his spells of evil.
Behold the snake charmer of men’s souls,
Feasting at table of the sinful, relishing in
Pleasures forbidden orchards of unripen fruit.
In the chambered hallowed halls of the last
Czar of Russia, a gray monk’s robe turns red,
As a snake shedding its outer skin, gaining in
Strengths and power with every act of evil
It performs.
A royal mother’s love betrayed, by faiths
Lying profit, a jackal laughs beneath the
Tapestry’s of refinement, and the child of
Innocence lies unable to defend himself
Against the viper, named Rasputin.
But others seek the green eyed serpant
That hinds beneath the queen robes of
Protections and invites this masked
Judas of debotury's, to a dinner of
Nights pleasure under the guises
Of Deceptions ruse.
Beguiling the snake with wines poisonous
Yet brilliant color and flavors bouquet, the
Royal guardian’s awaited for the grim-ripper
To arrive and do his deadly deed by the death
Of this living evil incarnate.
But Rasputin realized this deception, and cursed
The royal household, to fall beneath the enemies
Beyond the gates of the royal house of golden thrones.
At the stroking hour the assanian's killed the profit,
Of lies, yet his legacy lived on as the golden palace
Fell unto the power of Rasputin curse.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Batman had some guests who outdid their stay
By making a muddle with their foul play
Robin was first, yet his diet of late
Were larva and worms that slid off his plate
Spiderman came without hesitation
Except his kids caused an infestation
By crawling about for a place to spin
And webbing the doors so none could get in
He welcomed Green Hornet as a fond guest
But not all his tiny flying pet pests
Ant-man and The Wasp also brought their kids
Which added hundreds of problems, they did
As Batman fluttered behind them that night
He couldn’t refrain from taking a bite
Of heroic spawn in many guises
Coz they bugged Batman and came in pint sizes
5/14/15
For Comic Book Character Contest
Upon the Earth in sky or sea, n'er lived
a fairer wonder formed, than such as she.
Oh, Shield Mate, Mother Mary, child of Eve
who is reborn each age, when hope revives.
So soft the breath of human life arrives
awesome in the pearly froth, the sea
a warrior birthed upon a sandy lea
freed of man's cloth restraints, thus she thrives.
For sinless and aglow, she does arise
no need for cloak or length of tress to hide
stalwart is her beauty, her majesty
Enlightened are her follower's guises
with linked hearts may each new spirit confide
the eternal maid rises... a Valkyrie.
Them that never cease to claim
Everything that’s ours is theirs.
They take our lands,
They spill our blood;
Our children are consumed by lust.
The future, but a toxic mix:
Ancestors lived and died for this?
This legacy, blighting as a spell;
Contaminating, burns a living-hell.
Who is man and who is beast
When one pretends to love but hates?
Copyright 23.10.14
(Written for Black History Month Oct in UK
The killing continues in plain sight and in various guises)
LOVE AND LUNACY
As the universe streams moonbeam vibrations;
Beyond brave blue skies dreams are tossed about.
Clouds linger to infiltrate the threatening calm
Dangerous moons practice divination while waxing or waning
Exuding more or less power,effecting evil attitudes of moods.
Fondness withers as an under-watered rose.
Guises itself as sanity, instability rolls her childish eyes.
How such contempt shown as civility is more than cruel to me.
I often wonder why dreams get tossed about near spring.
January, February,seems to balance a tolerated gloom.
Keeps the quiet calm in March, until the waxing the new alluring moon.
Lunacy and love lurks in minds, as cosmic scales weigh-in gravity's pull
March introduced the full moon preparing for the for the Solar eclipse Of April.
Now that adoration has given birth to love, and it's shackles we praise the love.
Of the shackles - lets speak of the shackles that comes with the snares of loves traps.
Promises of forever gagging in the throats of unkempt dedications.
Quicksand, quickening underfoot, love suffocating instincts of Sanity.
Realities of loves lunacy, hoping we could bottle up the good times and save them.
Saving the good times for the bad times testing the power of the mind.
Testing loves abilities under the new lunar moon..hysterical levels of confusion
Universal melodies soothes the carnal mind, bonds together gods and goddesses of love.
Venus vibrations penetrating, piercing arrows, into zones of over zealous lust.
Wanton lust parading as Love causing mental confusion.
Xor gate of your natural instincts and logic wrestle, married now are love and lunacy.
Yet for just a taste of desire, or a semblance of love from you would complete me.
Walking lunatic I am, forever dancing, to the edges of this fanatical world.
Xylophones flowing universal drumbeats keeps me dancing cautiously past the loopholes.
GOD SENT THESE WORDS!
The most omnipotence felt by humanity is via the passion of God.
He has sent the flood of natural disaster.
The rain came so great that guises praised his name.
Never another fascia would exist within this nation.
The wrath of God was due to disbelief.
The people had sin throughout eternity.
However, this was not the cause of God’s rage.
His antipathy came forth from the lack of faith.
The lightning strikes and the thunder shook.
The populace sheltered themselves.
Everyone listen to the voice of the Almighty God through the trees lachrymose as they tumbled.
What a lesson taught by God and if not learnt, you have not gotten your house in order.
Friends and families support is crucial.
God sent these words to all living creatures.
Adhere to be save!
__________________________|
Penned On September 20,2014!