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Best Hastily Poems

Little Fire

I witness you fading away,
The winds blow frantically
They are against us, as all are

Little fire, rise in my cupped hands
Be it my life I shield from the elements so unfeeling?

Little fire, brighten as I feed you
This moisture receding from my pores must cease
Before I drown this diminishing beauty

I gasp,
Surprised at the howls and retorts of this icy tempest
Nature’s exhalations mean to end what must naturally end
My hands shake
Little fire—my life!
—I must keep you alive!

Grow against all odds
Against the screaming whirlpools of bluster
Against the torrential tears that mean to overcome you
Against the ashes that can only watch the desolation around you,
As you search for more fuel to masticate

My flesh is no treasure to me,
So lick me deep, my flame
Devour these hands that shield you
Rise hastily, as you burn
 Ascending up my arms,
Lighting every goosebump, shriveling every hair
Rise till I am all aflame in this wilderness
Boil and evaporate every murderous tear—
The fluids of sorrow that so pulverize purpose
Eat through every sinew, and every tissue,
Every muscle and every bone that has grown
 For this moment and this moment only

I give you every piece of me, little fire!
So that my spirit, finally free, shall rise to the heavens
Past the shrieking winds, preceding through the jeers of thunder
I give you my all, blessed fire!
So that these eyes may witness every storm die 
And I may laugh at their futility!

couragedeathfiregrowthlifedramatic monologue

The Pensive Poet- POTD

August-5- 2026
Contest- The Pensive Poet Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
~PLACED FIRST~

"A poet sees things which others seem to ignore and stores up his thoughts and impressions in the casket of verse, treasuring them as valuables that Time can't steal"~ By Poet

Alone, when I sit in my room in pensive mood,
Thoughts flit across my mind in endless succession.
They erupt out slicing time and space,
And flow in disarray, in a jumbled mass.

Then my facile pen starts moving quickly,
Gathering my thoughts in reflective refrain.
Like waves beating madly across the shoreline,
Emotions flow out, my mind no longer can contain.

On flipping through the pages of my life,
Deep nostalgia overwhelms me.
Like falling petals, as years hastily pass,
I long for the past when my days were quite glossy.

My mind wanders to distant memories dear,
And I wish to preserve what time has stolen.
So, I scribble my thoughts on the sheet in hand
To traverse through bygone times over again.
In my silence, I hear footsteps of the past
And see my dear ones as shadows fading out.
My parents who are no more there to care,
Gleam before, leaving my eyes misty.

I am on a sacred mission~
To stitch together broken memories and moments
And build a bridge between past and present.
My poems, l hope will serve as a window
That I can open and close at will.

Only in silence l can behold scenes,
That others miss out in diverse distractions.
The more I grow silent, the more I can see and hear.

I get ensnared by the breathtaking view of a sunset
The serenade of nocturnal birds,
The beauty of blooms and meadows wide and green,
The vastness of the sapphire sky -
Where rainbows arch after a drizzle
Or stars twinkle at a cloudless night.

Rills as they murmur and cataracts as they roar,
Fall on my ears as dulcet music of the cosmic band.

I wish to recall such sights and sounds
That once I looked on with a casual glance,
And fell like grains of sand funneled through the hour glass,
Later forsaken with no effort to keep or brush them up.

I wish to preserve them in poetry’s fragile art~
A craft sharpened and perfected in pensive mood.
So, time wouldn’t steal them away from my memory.
I strive to make my verses a mirror reflecting life.

longingmemorypoetryfree verse

At Dunkirk

At
Dunkirk,
where thousands
of stranded men
lined a bloody beach,
hope was draining with each
air strike delivered by the
unrelenting Germans’ aircraft.
Cold, starved, and injured men watched from shore -
their few rescue ships being bombed and sunk.

How must they have felt knowing their homeland
was so close – and yet so far away?
Horrific days passed when at last
brave civilians came with boats,
so it was that ten times
the number of those
not expected 
to live were
instead -
SAVED.

Aug. 16, 2017: Double Etheree written for 
 JPContest 6: WAR AND HEROISM Contest

 From Wikipedia:

The Dunkirk evacuation, code-named Operation Dynamo and also known as the Miracle of Dunkirk, was the evacuation of Allied soldiers during World War II from the beaches and harbour of Dunkirk, in the north of France, between 26 May and 4 June 1940.
The operation commenced after large numbers of British, French, and Belgian troops were cut off and surrounded by German troops during the Battle of France. In a speech to the House of Commons, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill called this "a colossal military disaster", saying "the whole root and core and brain of the British Army" had been stranded at Dunkirk and seemed about to perish or be captured.
On the first day only 7,669 men were evacuated, but by the end of the eighth day, 338,226 soldiers had been rescued by a hastily assembled fleet of over 800 boats. Many troops were able to embark from the harbour's protective mole onto 39 destroyers of the British Royal Navy, 4 Royal Canadian Navy destroyers,] and civilian merchant ships, while others had to wade out from the beaches, waiting for hours in shoulder-deep water. Some were ferried to the larger ships by what came to be known as the little ships of Dunkirk, a flotilla of hundreds of merchant marine boats, fishing boats, pleasure craft, yachts, and lifeboats called into service from Britain.  In his We shall fight on the beaches speech on 4 June, Churchill hailed their rescue as a "miracle of deliverance".

courageworld war iietheree

The Mark Twain Sausage Analogy

**“Those that respect the law and love sausage should watch neither being made.” – 
American Humorist/Author Mark Twain (real name Samuel Clemens) 



Prestigious lawmaking bodies are comprised of solons*
Some find it hard to refrain from comparing them to cons

Few legislators know the ramifications of bills
And the way they’re rushed to passage can give the public chills

We don’t know what’s in bills or how they strip away our rights
And if we ask our lawmakers, they provide few insights

Piles of amendments are thrust hastily in political machines
Objections are made; no one successfully intervenes

“What’s that?” we ask later when we realize what has been done
(In Kennesaw, Georgia, all citizens MUST purchase guns)

Try to blend the conservative and liberal viewpoints
You’ll find the machine sputters with fat spewing from its joints

It’s like taking hunks of pork and grinding them into links
The process is messy and the outcome usually stinks

No matter! We are supposed to smile and just eat it up
Then we wash it all down with a sip from the lager cup

Pork barrel projects like Alaska’s “Bridge to Nowhere” confound
As on nebulous values of bills lawmakers expound

So beware if for common sense in these bills you forage
And remember old Mark Twain’s analogy to sausage



*Solons are members of any legislative or lawmaking body.

funnycouplet

Winnie the Witch

Winnie Witch loves this time of year
Halloween time is drawing near
In her pink underwear
She’ll give you quite a scare
Then she’ll hastily disappear!

Away on her broomstick she flew 
Ended up in darkest Peru 
She went on a hike
Then got on her bike
It’s the thing some travelers do!

On our Island Halloween is called 'Hop Tu Naa' The local shops are starting to have displays in their windows which inspired the poem

09~21~16

flyingfunhalloweenlimerick

Broken Promises

Promises, Promises...boldy broken
I spite these words when hastily spoken
The act pledged is almost never the issue
  it's the scanning of priorties...somehow they missed you!!
You would never have held breath and waited
  But the promiser spoke, declaritively stated...
"I will..."  "We'll Go...." "Real soon..."  "I promise..."
  You'd have no reason not to take them at honest...

From as far back as I can remember
every promise I heard was "return to sender"
The phone would ring, my heart would sing
  voice on the other end says...."forget the whole thing"
No fishing trips, campouts, or cookouts...look out!
  Every time my hopes were up, then hooked out...
I died each time they let me down
  when they picked me up, then set me down
    when I had to kick start the merry-go-round
      sat in an unpushed swing at the play ground...

So thinking back, I know it's why
I see a broken promise like a boldface lie
I hate nothing more than when words are hollow
  when an oral oath lacks the action to follow
        Trust breaks down when mouths, they run
         Hold your tongue then no harm is done!!
            



Inspired by Michael's "What gets your Goat" contest!!

peoplewordsmemetimerhyme

A Mother's Ears

I sometimes feel a unique vibration within
my own ears. My baby’s crying, calling from beneath his quilted,
baby-blues. His sobs rustle the warm sheath of home. 
Before my mind reacts, my body is up, hastily tip-toeing
into the nightlight’s calming glow of a cow jumping over the moon.     
Outside a soggy, spring night splatters under streetlights
like urban art. A steady rhythm of flowing rain 
beats down on puddled pavements. My baby’s cries 
reverberate as they reach that instinctual part of me,
somewhere deep within my diaphragm and through my heart. 
A mother’s astute ears know the subtle variations of her own
children’s breath in sleep…I hurry to the shadows of my baby’s crib 
to find him curled up, eyes still closed; little whimpers
and groans escape from his open lips…a bad dream, I realize.
I gently rub his back, shushing away all that disturbs his peace,
and I wonder about a child’s impressionable mind…
what intrusions of an innocent day could bring a bellowed anguish 
to the sweet dreams of a carefree boy not yet two? 
I listen to him tumble in and out of his fear until his breath is a tranquil hum…
only then, do I hear the music of an early morning’s falling rain.

babydreammothernightfree verse

Best Hastily Poems

True Colors

Little Fire

Wave of Fantasy

Unless My Heart Is Happy

Approaching Storm

Doors

On My Horizon You Rise

Unconditional Acceptance

Motifs of Nightfall

The Pensive Poet- POTD

At Dunkirk

The Mark Twain Sausage Analogy

Winnie the Witch

Broken Promises

A Mother's Ears

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