Best Highlighted Poems
In Silk and Dreams, breakfast at Tiffany’s
nights of lavender lace, mornings with dew
a highlighted garden of mysteries
waterfall wishes, windblown thoughts of you
In a playground of desire, succeeded
candle flickering a flame, whispers true
a familiar song- Just What I Needed
waterfall wishes, windblown thoughts of you
In a Shakespearean Sonnet, refrain
nights of lavender lace, mornings with dew
echos in flight, blossoms against the rain
waterfall wishes, windblown thoughts of you
In blushing shades and twilight symphonies
In Silk and Dreams, breakfast at Tiffany’s
____________________
* Just a little Scribble *
(Because Love is in the Air)
Songs ~
Deep Blue Something - Breakfast At Tiffany's
The Cars - Just What I Needed (1978)
Categories:
highlighted, dream, emotions, music, romance,
Form:
Sonnet
Caustic memories dissolve on my tongue
Lingering tastes of battery acid and nicotine
Cause me to choke on putrid saliva.
Staring at melting walls, clocks tick in unison.
Distorted birdsong hums outside of jagged windows
Under the warped sun, an unrepentant landscape blurs.
Freshly budding peonies liquefy;
Veils thin, evaporating the delusion of reality.
Why must I mould to the edges at your bidding,
Contort to the point of my own dysfunction?
For such fleeting worship, this devastation lingers -
Devours and disconnects my inner workings.
I lie highlighted in shadow, a beacon of quiet distress;
A dislodged scapula desperate to be labelled angelic.
Grounded, wingless, and forever out of time -
Wearing the last face you cared for as a comforter.
Neon venom warming twisted arteries,
Sinister patches stitched upon a breaking back.
A narcissist's crown digging into my head
Like rusted nails plunged into worm-infested wood—
Permanent disconnection, frayed cerebral cortex.
Blurred vision obscures insidious figures hiding in hushed corners,
Whispering in Babylonian tongue. Hallucinatory illusions haunt
What was a once-pristine sanctuary,
Now morphing into a surrealistic asylum.
Revelation exists above shadow in temporal machination,
I'm consciousness not yet swept up with sand;
Closed eyes cleanse my corneas - I rest in a balm of clarity.
Your power superficial, a cankerous cataract peeled clean off.
It is you who is bereft, washed up with the shell you created.
All the walls of your empty room fallen flat,
As I unfurl in the mirror beyond the shoreline,
I realise - it was never me you couldn't stomach.
Categories:
highlighted, art, deep, imagery, poetry,
Form:
Ekphrasis
“This is love: to fly toward a secret Sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life.
Finally, to take a step without feet.” ~ Rumi
Life can be a pilgrimage through rainless moors
and solemn seascapes draped
in mists of soundless mayhem,
where bleeding butterflies reflect
the fading stars etched with broken promises~
that time has abandoned.
I am a corpse of a firefly suspended
in a maroon mirage,
chained with petunias and pearls,
while my heart seeks a celestial chorus
to recite a harmonious hymn.
I yearn to write a compassionate chord,
ricocheting with empathetic embers,
silencing the fiendish
drumbeats of the devious leeches,
searing the fragile curves
of my cinnamon skin,
as I’ve long been a victim
of the vindictive voices of Satan
and his spellbound followers.
Yet nestled between temptation and torment,
a garden of miracles blooms
with lavender lakeshores,
its sweet scents of honey-rose petals
infusing the aching air,
unveiling a sky adorned with lily wings
and sapphire serenity.
O how I long to be the
silhouette of moon fairies
revising and rearranging
kismet melodies shaped in sorcery~
for I draw salt-kissed sunsets
in acrylic eloquence,
to eliminate black magic violations
still running beneath my trembling toes.
I will dance to the alliterative rhythm of
adjectives and assonance,
flowing in sync with the viking violin
within my soul.
So listen to the unlocked
tunes of restricted rhymes;
you’ll hear my name unchained from
the maleficent mantras~
weaving metaphors
screaming between resilient lines of
highlighted healing,
rephrasing the art of letting go
tattooed in raven jewels,
flipping porcelain pages of hope,
flowing within
the anthology of sprouting orchids.
Categories:
highlighted, devotion, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Just a five minute train ride
But I'm already far, far away.
Staring out through the speckled windows,
Highlighted against the setting sun.
I'm lost in the future,
Thinking,
Endless possibilities on the horizon.
Slowly, like the train slowing to a stop.
I regain consciousness in present,
The busy people squeeze together to get off,
I slowly rise to a stand behind them.
A smile on my face,
Today,
I walk towards those horizons.
Categories:
highlighted, beautiful, boyfriend, business, children,
Form:
Carpe Diem
A breathtaking panoramic view fascinated my sight into the offing,
As the sea gloriously shows its precious treasure magnificently floating;
Making me wish to be an albatross to hover and hop around;
On those beautiful islands highlighted by a single beauty named, James Bond.
This place is known originally and locally as Nail Island,
It’s one of the best tourists’ spots found in Phang Nga Bay at Phuket, Thailand
A prominent tall stone coated with green nailed unto the sea amidst the others,
Which you and I will surely be amazed by its spectacular beauty and wonder.
Sightseeing trip is priceless while on your way to its exact location,
You can pass by at the Monkey Caves with golden Buddha - another real attraction,
Taking a convenient long-tailed boat as you finally tour along the bay,
Stop by at floating Bin Laden Village to complete your day.
Aug. 2, 2013 12.30am
Note:
I've visited this place once & it's really beautiful. To view the pictures, you can google it or watch the movie of James Bond;))) TY
Third Place
Contest: Latest Poem
Judged: 8/14/2013
sponsor: My greatest poet, PD
Categories:
highlighted, beauty,
Form:
Rhyme
Old men in blue jeans
Dungarees – that’s what they were called,
heavy, blue denim, metal button fly -
form that followed function. The “cuffs” were
rolled up because inseam sizing and “pre-worn”
softened and frayed only occurred if you got
them from an older sibling.
Time has a way of softening things, Dungarees
included. They shaped themselves to your needs,
became one with your movements, stayed with you
through the tough times, went to town with you,
wore the scars and tears of youth moving forward,
taught the lessons of toughness and tenderness,
of reliable, responsible, dependability.
The clothes did not make the man, the man gave
meaning to the clothes, imbued them with his ethic,
his love, his success and failures, stood with him
in welcome rains and barren fields. The jeans,
flannel shirts, boots, weathered face - caught
between an ever present grin and grimace -
awaited each sunrise with a purpose.
The blue jeans are now faded by age,
highlighted by wear and tear, creased
in the rutted way of old roads – necessary
but untended. They offer the comfort of memory’s
warm embrace, the unspoken bond of a friendship
shaped by the demands of life.
They still walk together, these old men and their
blue jeans, more slowly but no less proudly,
for they have grown old together and know
that “the clothes did not make them men”.
John G. Lawless
1/1/2015
Categories:
highlighted, mentor, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse
The snow fell down- like feathers, flew,
and clung to everything that grew.
Each branch and twig was fluffed with white-
highlighted 'neath the moon's soft light.
Serene this vision, I saw through.
The snow fell down- like feathers, flew.
A white-lace haze of snowflakes made
an opaque patterned window shade.
And through that shade, I saw a deer
beneath the glow of moon so clear.
The snow fell down- like feathers, flew-
but falling faster blocked my view.
Now I, behind my window, warm
and safe from this cold winter storm,
prayed hard the deer find comfort too.
The snow fell down- like feathers, flew.
January 25, 2016
~2nd Place~
Contest: Opaque
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Judged: 11/28/2019
~1st Place~
Contest: Show Me Quatern Poetry
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Judged: 02/06/2016
~6th Place~
Premiere Contest: Contest 208
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 09/21/2016
Categories:
highlighted, snow, storm,
Form:
Quatern
Have you ever met those kind of blokes who get upon your nerve,
when they quote continual references that most think should deserve
a threatening confrontation that if they make that quote again,
then the punishment that’s handed out will give them heaps of pain.
A gang of us were working down along the Main Drain stream,
clearing blackberries and willows on a governmental scheme,
and as usual on a Monday morn, weekend glitches are highlighted,
that are full of doom and gloom, and mostly are ‘beer blighted.’
For Clancy, Joe and me, we sort of blessed the doom and gloom,
as it transgressed into humour, and so there wasn’t any room,
for the likes of workmate Charlie who only saw a brighter side,
when there wasn’t any bright side; just a great gloomy divide.
Charlie is the eternal optimist with no matter what is said
in the ghastliest of circumstance even if someone was dead,
and Charlie only had one quote that we’re sure he did rehearse,
and so we heard it every time ‘It could have been much worse.’
So after work one evening in the pub we had some beers,
with ‘it could have been much worse,’ still ringing loudly in our ears,
and with Charlie being absent we devised a cunning plan,
to rid him of that bloody quote and then praying that we can.
We thought that as a perfect subject we would use our good mate Ted,
in a steamy sordid untrue yarn to get inside of Charlie’s head,
and have him shaking in his bootstraps, plus gulping in his throat,
to avoid us hearing one more time, his annoying bloody quote.
And so ‘it could have been much worse’ is about to get the chop,
as we cut and piled the prickly canes, of a large blackberry crop,
so when the time was ready, with Charlie well within ear shot,
Joe babbled out the sordid tale that was really ‘Tommyrot.’
“Did you hear about our old mate Ted, and what went on last night?
He caught his wife with Jimmy Hale, and there was a shocking fight;
he shot ‘em both and then himself!” But Charlie stayed quite calm but terse,
as he rolled a smoke and muttered out, “It could have been much worse.”
“Much worse!” We squawked as one... “How can it be worse than that?”
And the answer Charlie gave us… well it really knocked us flat,
after dragging on his cigarette, he sniffed and quietly said,
“If it had have been the night before, it’s me who would be dead.”
Categories:
highlighted, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Mint stars reaching out to greet the sky
Cool zephyr blowing across your cheeks
Much nearer, your silhouette appears
Like a fog carried by beams ,you advance
With sequins on hair tossed by the breeze
As your flowing chemise billows like a sail
To throttle on bare toes across our woods
I seek your face rising from scented grass
A nape blushing like jasmine’s breath
I become an orbit twirling summer’s fire
That my eyes behold a sigh in the light
And the edges between us grow tighter
While your fingers moan to whisper this lore;
“The stars will be watching us,
and we will show them
what it is to be a thin crescent moon.
You and I unselfed, will be together...”
And this magic frees me to sing in drawls
You murmur,"soak in the pour of rain,"
While we lay on the meadow of my arms
Allowing the lanterns that hang on air
To consume a flame kindling our breaths
Until you and I become one stem.
----- --------------
*Inspiration from the poem of Sufi poet, Rumi,
( A Moment of Happiness), a stanza highlighted
above.
Any Poem Contest #4
Categories:
highlighted, devotion, love,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
The people of the state oppressed
should have a referdum by rights
God given unto them by speech
words draws the sword
To back anything worth considering
on this issue with the pros and cons
highlighted truth a must
Leaving nowhere for a reason to worry
exposing side affects
unto the genetic code nothing hidden
as this is an elitist group
Formed by bankers funding
Trying to muscle into world trade
with gmo foods and steroid filled beef
with ill regards to human fatalities
as money is the only agenda
That knows no status or good will
on the table that drives their engine forward
before health is taken into consideration
Categories:
highlighted, betrayal, conflict, earth day,
Form:
Narrative
My daughter had been sickly for a time
The flu, they said, her health will shortly climb
A few days later came the call we dread
I'll ne’er forget the words the doctor said:
"We got your daughter's blood work back today.
I'm not sure there is any easy way
To tell you she has cancer of the blood.
I'm sorry, but the outlook isn't good."
I dropped the phone and couldn't hide the tears
My daughter hadn't yet to reach six years
This had to be a mix up or mistake
But her frailness confirmed this wasn't fake.
We sat down on her bed and held her close
So tiny and so perfect in repose
But before either one of us could speak
She smiled and spoke in a voice small and weak.
"I know you want to tell me that this flu
Will not be getting better, but I knew
See Jesus sent an angel to my bed
Who said I needn't fear what lies ahead."
"I asked about the c-word sometimes used
By mom and daddy talking while I snoozed.
He told me about cancer inside me
And said that heaven very soon I'd see."
And seeing tears, my daughter grabbed our hands
“There's one more thing you need to understand
The angel had a note for both of you:
Said, 'Courage is a mighty C-word too.'"
Where she was laid to rest a stone highlighted by the dew
Reminds me she said, "Courage is a mighty C-Word too."
December 12, 2016
Categories:
highlighted, cancer, child, courage, death,
Form:
Rhyme
Waterfall
Escaping
from far confined spaces
longing for freedom over the rim
Highlighted
flowing wavy tresses
cascading over rocky shoulders
Rushing sounds
of an endless stampede
racing and galloping through the air
Frothy fluffs
of white bubbly splendor
splashing, glistening in the sunlight
Sandra M. Haight
October 27, 2014
~7th Place~
Contest: Some Form of Crystalline
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Categories:
highlighted, imagery, nature, water,
Form:
Verse
Martin came to a cleft in the rocks
The oriole must have gone this way
It was narrow and curving
A sudden turn, and everything seemed to change.
Shrill, reedy music of pipes filled the heavy air,
A smell of musk of goats and their dung.
Invisible cicadas sustained the piper's lament.
Suddenly, he found himself in front of a small but deep lake.
Weeping willows, large copper-coloured beeches
Surrounded by a large pool of azure water.
There was a calm tranquillity about the place
Whilst the air was saturated with a fragrance
Of exotic flowering lavender-like trees.
He heard a splash, and out stepped a young woman.
Her canary yellow elegant swimsuit
Clung wetly to her honey-coloured body.
Damp citrine hair formed a frame around an oval face
That was highlighted by an upturned, pointed nose.
He did not move but stood mesmerized,
Looking into her blue, limpid eyes.
A sweet smile shimmered on her lips.
"Hello," she said in a mellifluous voice.
Her smile was inviting. "My name is Goldie Oriole.
Come, sit near me
And tell me how you found this place."
To be concluded in Part 3
Categories:
highlighted, bird, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
ice pick digs deep
breath spews thick mist
foot hold must stick
peak steep cold slope
stay calm keep hold
success not cheap
1st placement
Charles Messina sponsored
Bauk-Than 3 rows of rhyme highlighted in bold and italics
Written 25/12/2020
4 syllables 2nd, 3rd, 4th words/syllables rhyme
4 rows with three rhyme patterns
Categories:
highlighted, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Than-Bauk
Something's changed, I don't recall this door.
The mat that once read 'welcome'...now gone.
Am I lost in the night, or had I forgotten some slight..
had my address been quelled by another time?
The new curtains in the bay window seem nice,
though..not the deep blue highlighted sash you fell for.
And on that foreign floor, a sweet Labrador lies napping.
Not the lightning fast hound rescued from the shelter.
My key's jingle, so hollow in sound, questions me now..
whether I know left from right, right from wrong..
Two boots waited, under an unfamiliar porchlight,
neither I recollect as my own..
every sunset I knew seemed to've gone.
I stepped back from a stranger's stair, perhaps deceived by my own eyes..
retracing my tired steps from the long day, to the oak in the yard,
was it always that tall?
Surely the messages you left would offer a solution from this lunacy,
a chance at a door opening, inviting me, lovingly from this nightmarish scene.
But they had all disappeared.., save one.
Staring hollow eyed into the dimming display's abyss, I read the last will..
your last thought retraced..in taps' mournful horn.
The air in my lungs abandoned me, my shoulders suddenly
weighing so heavy, in a torn and bloodied uniform.
Somehow the night sky was no longer mine to share..
absent your side, shaking my head in my hands..
my God, how could it be?
The door and locks changed, the porchlight rearranged,
the blue curtains went too,
The scratch of toe nail's click clack.. nowhere to be found,
even the dog was removed.
Turning away from the lawn to the long sidewalk, oblivion my companion,
I laughed out loud at the fool and folly and future that lie in store.
There's a fine line between truly belonging.., and only being,
bitter lesson learned at a strange door..
Finally saddeningly, maddeningly.. it dawned,
why everything was tipped on its face.
Your last message, echo'd in my broken mind..,
'you've been replaced'.
Categories:
highlighted, soldier, sunset, war,
Form:
Free verse