Best Hinders Poems
Oh! soul, strum with every pulse, strings of wisdom
Be in the known, yet, be conscientious of unknown
What you claim to possess, don’t let it possess you
Don’t speak words of sapience, unless you are true
Borrow not thoughts of others, enlighten your own
Never be the shadow that hinders seedlings’ growth
Fear not when truth speaks, for a lie stings evermore
Dispense not haughtiness, when arrogance you abhor
Pretend not to be a giver, if motivation is to receive
Giving isn’t nobility if you deem receiver unworthy
Never teach others that which you don’t comprehend
Learn the ways of sage, inspire hate to seek amends
Judge, only if, you let others adjudicate your deeds
Be cognizant of desires spuriously posing as needs
Engage with humility when your ego dares to speak
Boast not in futility~ time will not bend to your will
Neither can you command a nightingale not to sing
Strive to embrace divinity, be a messenger of peace
Oh! soul, wander not~ search deep within to find it
January 4, 2022
In conversation with our soul poetry contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Held unyielding in your narrow mind
is the ignorance which keeps you blind.
Building dams will only hold you back
from accepting that white is not black.
Like a slow moving, barricaded stream,
your thoughts clot like curdled cream.
Thin skin has need to slough rejection,
Your rigid stance in mirrored reflection.
Break open the dam across the estuary
that hinders your vision. It's necessary
to move in sync with malleable fluidity
instead of sputtering words of stupidity.
Shedding skin will allow you to breathe.
Release your potential from its sheathe.
Even a snake slithers out from its skin
to crawl from where it once had been.
Little is the chance you have to accept
new ideas if they are not circumspect
to the fault of having such a closed mind.
Throw off the veil that keeps you blind.
Don't become stagnant and decompose
by turning your back, continuing to oppose
any idea with which you just don't agree.
You'll drown in arrogance, acting so lordly.
A parrot sits on my shoulder.
Unlike those that squawk, mine tends to whine.
When she is in the mood,
she moans and moans and moans.
No Polly-Anna Parrot is this one!
My pain she keeps repeating,
and hearing of it hinders me from being
more completely sympathetic to the pain
of others in my life.
As she dribbles cracker crumbs of pessimissm
from her annoying and ugly noxious beak,
it’s so difficult to pluck her from my ear.
Alas! I’m hearing the sound of my own voice,
for ‘tis I - who taught her how to speak.
Jan. 20, 2019 for
Maureen McGreavy's Plucking the Poisonous Parrot Contest
Its still raining, my eyes still tired,
wet lawns with little puddles drowning our earth -
but despite the monochromatic skyline,
birds arrived with their morning song -
not afraid to get their wings wet.
Selfish sun has abandoned me,
so I ponder amongst the puddles and serenades,
is this an analogy for us to continue with our purpose,
despite the adversity life throws at us?
Are you even alive?
Is breathing confirmation of your conscience?
Do we even need a reason for existence...
Many probably do not care or do not realise,
but if life was a contest, where would you place?
Not everyone has been gifted or cursed with empathy.
Would compassion compete if it was a competition?
Are words enough to justify where we finish on the podium,
or is it understanding what lies behind the veil -
or failing to explain that it hinders how we choose our path.
So why do we hide behind words?
Why are you afraid?
We can wear a disguise behind metaphors,
but in reality our truth in never being revealed
eats at our heart, killing our desires -
a corrupt heart means a death to our purpose.
I guess the dilemma is:
Do we need a purpose
and what is the purpose of living without a purpose..
Guess I am lucky I found my purpose.
Not everyone can spread light, but I will continue to illuminate.
A selfless soul never worries about the pedestal.
In a selfish world where time is your nemesis,
you have a choice how you wish to place in your contest.
Simple Musing
9 December 2023
Love silences fear,
Uniting hope, joy, peace,
Mingling lights, grace
Joining hearts in faith, together,
Stirring prayers, gentle psalms –
Harmonized when souls believe,
Jesus, inspiration for giving,
Meaningful beyond imagery.
Adoration lasting forever,
Resembling souls understanding…
Love like this convulses calm,
Lulling twilight,
Breathing shadows,
Feelings erasing storms,
Darkness hinders meaningful,
While wonders grow wings…
Enchant souls,
Souls enchant,
Wings grow wonders while…
Meaningful hinders darkness,
Storms erasing feelings,
Shadows breathing,
Twilight lulling,
Calm convulses this like love,
Understanding souls, resembling…
Forever, lasting adoration,
Imagery beyond meaningful,
Giving for inspiration, Jesus,
Believe souls when harmonized,
Psalms gentle, prayers stirring –
Together, faith in hearts joining,
Grace, lights mingling,
Peace, joy, hope uniting,
Fear silences love.
EYES
The round-of-life scene,
Hope of hereafter,
An aspect between
Movement hinders sight and more
A sandy beach
Spread at the shore
Glaze crust an itchy lid
Harsh chemicals
A thousand things hid
But now I lay me down,
Bright years in favor,
Beloved benevolent of the town
Lids drop comfortably,
A flesh-fast wall
See this dusty saffron galaxy -
All speculation, mind,
Based on ancient sacred text,
On human eyes, script of the time –
This mellow – now beige – array
Of swirling, tiny specks sifted,
Some far brightness on display
Beyond could be angels awing
So white, inner eye barely detects
But soul might hear them sing
More glorious than Cologne,
Alpine, or billowing clouds,
Their sweet voices whisper, moan
Forgot the body prime -
That ultimately false prison -
In this thoughtless region sublime
Dave Austin
“Le lacrime del Cuore”
As the tears faithfully fall on cedar wood
A chaotic still thru sacerdotal sky where it stood
And blood rapidly runs down on cypress veins
Where the palpitating pine sadly shows its pains
The birds of prey perched perfectly passive
As the heart hinders to their words impassive
Nazarene nails reveal their tenacious teeth
And the sands of sorrow bellow underneath
A bludgeoned body from east to west
As the wounded wood is gently blessed
The heavens hibernate with clouds of grey
To meaningfully mourn this degenerative day
The cryptical cross now stands surreal
For a King is crowned with thorns that seal.
(March.24.2016)...June.6.2016
Jesus Contest
By Anthony Slausen
The loud rumbling, crashing sounds of thunder
woke me and I nestled into his breast.
A feeling of fearfulness creeps over,
as the flash of lighting hinders my rest.
Rising, he moves toward the closed window,
shutting the drapes. Blocking out the striking
flash, I hid my head under the pillow,
away from the sounds that are frightening.
He gently caressed me with reverence
and a gentle kiss, calming the storm of fear.
I looked up into his eyes in silence,
"I don't like being scared" and cuddled near.
The storm is over, calmness has set in,
and darkness no longer lingers deep within.
7/21/2017
Form S- Poetry Contest
Theme; Storm
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
I Will Help You
For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. (Isaiah 41:13)
Thou speaketh this unto thy power:
The soul is true self, sure in itself.
The individual of the soul that
separates itself is lost,
Doth hinders its flow towards
becoming an entity of own-self.
If it fails to improve itself, what then?
Then it reincarnates, or rebirths,
that it never shall fail while beit the night.
And the day, only ever as old as eternity.
Is but a day to stand in its glory,
And a night to make rest in,
Absolution of all on earth, of guilt in
the crucifixion.
I give unto all, my life, I shall lay it down,
That I may take it again.
No man taketh it from me,
For I lay it down oft myself,
Power I have to do so.
And power to take it again.
In the aura of love my heart hinders,
All that is left is my strength of sorrow,
Where livid lamenting turns to cinders…
Veneration embracing the morrow.
Like a weeping willow my tears cascade,
Over ten thousand years will come to pass…
My thoughts of you slowly fearfully fade,
Only the strength of sorrows keep their mass.
Incidental idyllic illusions,
Falling upon my magniloquent mind…
Amidst woeful weakness of seclusions,
Stagnant statues of sorrows left behind.
Within a state of submissive supine,
An empath of love where sorrows confine.
Strength of Sorrow…Theme
10 Syllables per line
July.26.2019
17 is the Lucky Number -
Rhyme Poetry
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
Background music by...
Two Steps From Hell
'Heart of Courage'
Thomas Bergersen
Invincible 2010
With male virtual voice
Placed 1'st...Thank You
Grey are the days that past by my eyes
and the nights are scary to see.
A pall clouds my vision each day I awake
which hinders my search for me.
Blank are the stares I see each day
when I look at the eyes in the glass.
Reflection of the one I’m trying to save
from this suffocating morass.
Lost I am as I travel the road
that I hope will lead me to salvation.
The forks in the road are far too many
and my heart pounds from palpitation.
Deep into my mind do I bring my search
as I desperately try to see.
Yet twisted and tangled my thoughts all seem
as I still keep up the search for me.
In the eyes of my child I do see a glimpse
of something that makes me believe,
in the hope that I have something to salvage
as much as my mind tries to deceive.
The hands of my friends reaching for me
to help though I don’t even ask,
tells me that I do have my good inside
and I shouldn’t take myself to task.
But as much as the signs and the help I receive
give me a glimpse of the person I know I be,
I have so much pain and confusion in the way
that it’s so very hard to find the real me.
As silence fell upon the night
My heart again did stir.
Petitions made on bended knee
Return to me unheard.
O Gracious Lord, Why do I find
Your absence once again?
The chambers of my grieving heart,
Hold emptiness within.
I cannot bear another night
Your grace, from me withheld.
Pleas rising from my broken heart,
In anguish are compelled.
His softly spoken words I heard.
My sobs, with them entwined.
At last, my Lord does speak to me
With lessons well defined.
"I sent my son to wear your shame
And on the cross he died.
Tho' turned away, I heard his plea,
FORGIVE THEM' was his cry."
"A gift, not earned, I gave to you,
Your sins tossed in abyss.
Now, with a speck that stains anew,
Your pleas are asked amiss."
"A sin you hide, without success,
All things are known to me.
Mercy flows not from your heart
For one that hinders thee."
"My presence is within your grasp,
I wish, with you, to live.
My mercy waits to cleanse your heart.
But first, YOU must forgive."
Written: October 15, 2023
_______________________________________
Hanging precariously on the landline pole,
The sun's beams dance, yet no heat console.
Akin to power wires in homes spread and sway,
But it seems friendly warmth has gone astray.
Sun rays are vanishing behind the fog cover,
Placing the world through a frost to discover.
Nonetheless, it still clings to the phone cable,
A sign of hope is when light and cheer are stable.
Phone broadband towers above the keen sky.
It manages the call akin to a coordinator of a tie.
Yet it feels empty without the rays of the sun.
A mystery gap, an unviable-to-cram void, began.
Our bones are gently dying as we sit in silence.
Warmth may induce a shift in people's reliance.
But the phone's broadband remains unmoved.
By embracing all our goals, we stay unimproved.
We dearth the sun to engulf us with its coziness.
To devote us comfort, we struggle for prosiness.
But forthwith, we're out in the cold, yearning.
For the radiation from the sun to start burning.
Acoustically, we fix our gaze on the phone wire,
Speculating around when it will uplift us higher.
Will it ever convey to us the warmth we desire?
Or will it ditch us eternally in this icy quagmire?
However, a hyperlink grows inside the wire.
A flickering ember of faith that will not tire.
So there is a secret power within the cord.
A convenient network that hinders the record
Each house, each heart, a node in this scheme,
An array of linkages where comfort can gleam.
And though the sun may not shine with its might,
Each of us is able to produce our proper light.
So let us sit quietly in the cold embrace.
And bear changes at our proper pace.
The phone, a device, or a wire may hang above
Yet it is up to us to descry the embrace of love.
When words collide with thoughts of love
to fountain forth an eager pen
Then lines of light begin to form
and fill the page with hope again
A world that pirouettes in pain
will often bid a muse to bed
Then feelings bottled and constrained
can ne’er escape a weary head
Yet love not only heals the Earth
but all that hinders words to flow
So when I write with heart and grace
I write from what I yearn to know
Rumi Quote "Doubt is a precipice on the way to God. Blessed is he who is freed from its bonds."
__________________________________________
Walking toward the edge, facing a gray sky,
Paradise magnificence is dazzling below.
Goals are shrouded amid dense, rimy snow,
Amid scarlet stones, serenading scary lullaby.
Mountain summits catch nascent sunbeams,
Time for either primal bitterness or delight.
Flagrantly feeling fearful of a factious fright,
Falls fully into the recess of sliced streams.
Positioned on the edge of annihilation,
I was looking into the distance of my mind.
I am seated and pensive, on muse behind,
Have I the resolve to move toward obligation?
Yeah, the road ahead is all thorny and broken,
So I'm trapped, admiring it from a distance.
However, I am unable to reverse my insistence,
for the route I've taken is empty and betoken.
I've no action as to dwell in confine of truth,
Observing dread and splendor of doubt.
Skilled in leaving to safety despite flout,
Wish to dive into the dimness, still in my youth.
Fear the ambiguous; it is nothing but dread,
If not brave enough to tackle a rough path.
As I felt anxious at this point, unfit to lath.
Still, what path can I decide to sail ahead?
Should I return to weird safety or leave?
Is the charm of the enigma alluring to me?
What can I do? not a clear path to foresee
Yet, such ways will always be a lie to weave.
But I must purport to persist on this precipice.
Hinders the impending gravity of genesis.