Best Hom Poems
MY SPIRIT SINGS
Almond eyes speak: "Take me home please--
bonnie green fields where I may wander,
chasing butterflies and darting dragonflies
dearly gazing to blue and orange streak skies.
Everyday, I will find some daffodils
fixing and tucking one to my ear,
grin painted on my face as I look
hungrily to praise and thank you, God!
Interred two years ago by mistake,
justice and joy, I yearn to feel,
kneeling everyday, praying unto God:
"Listen to me O tender God and don't leave"
Merciful Father heard, He blessed me saying:
"Now Son, be fruitful and multiply", I amble--
obedient me to sunny walks down winding roads,
persistent to bear the given loads,
quicker to maneuver from danger's path,
reflexive instincts working double time!
Seeking God's wisdom to always guide me,
taking time to read the Bible everyday,
understanding: "Man shall not live on bread alone...
Vexed and pressed by a truckload of trials but
whom shall I fear when God is my light and salvation.
Xenacious I, excited, wanting to do it in an instant!
Yes Lord! Yes Lord! Yes! Yes, Lord, Amen.
Zealous is my heart and spirit as I sing!
_______________________________________________________
***xenacious means filled with yearning for change..
Abecedarian - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
~~8th place~~
10:49 pm, July 06, 2015
Waves crash the rocks in ecstasy
as I pass the archway
to the sea.
Onwards to the village,
busy cafes,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
as a power of teens gather, texting.
I venture down
a chestnut lined road
under a canopy
of Copper Beech
where bright shafts of sun
illuminate a lane of lavender
a sea of perfume
wafts the air.
Climbing an incline,
hills in view,
the distant sobbing
of water sounds
a trickling brook emerges
ambling through magenta heather
and thorny gorse.
I reach a stile,
entrance to the woods
where a carpet
of frosted red cyclamen
bleeds down to a deep dark glen.
A chicory lake lies there, frozen
as a mist uncurls between reeds.
The granite hills,
soft with snow,
luminous against a whale grey sky.
A copse of pine trees
surround a curving river
where trout pout, bubbling.
At the fold of day,
returning hom
The pale sun sinks the horizon
as stars tremble
into a velvet night
There’s a girl I see everyday.
And I want to be with her.
I see the guys she been with.
And they never see her the way I do
I’m tired of waiting for my chance.
She needs to lose the boys she with .
And get with me.
Her beautiful brown eyes.
Shine bright in the light.
Her smile would bright up the darkest day.
I want to show her.
How it feels to be loved.
And want to be the guy that.
Will love her no matter what.
Even if her make up is running down her face.
I want to be there and say she the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.
I can’t help feeling what I feel.
I want to be the guy to call her in three in the morning.
Just to say I love you.
I want to be the one to give her flowers just cuz it’s Monday.
She makes my whole world perfect even if its just for one second.
I bet your wondering who this girl is.
This girl is you.
all I ask for is one chance.
I want to be able to hold you in my arms till the bell rings.
Walk with you down the hallways.
And everybody stops and say, don’t they look cute together.
I want to be the guy that makes all your hom girls jealous.
You need to stop messing with these lil boys.
You need a man to guide you through your troubles
A gangster love is wat I have to offer.
I want to show you how the good life lives.
To have no worries.
cuz I’ll be there to protect you.
So come on girl. Please be mine
You’re the perfect girl.
So I’ll ask you this
Will you be my girl?????
"Haunted"
kept in suspense
the pastoral
disappeared
dreams and visions
are seldom all
that they ever seem
Love meets in
cerebellum blue
Forest of Arden
to twirl around
minds unseen
like fingers
trace scars
as feathers do
where the ghost
Tears of Rien
rip veils gently
parting the
invisible sea
to call turbulence in
like Love seeks Romance
in
The Glistening
haunted
magic
yet to be
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"VERSATILE ASSASSINS | Once Upon A Dream"
Selkie Hom in the Haunted Woods
https://youtu.be/p2nf7mCyOcU
Ek wou nie wees als wat ek kon
wees,
Ek wou nie meer 0800 gedoen het
as ander,
Maar ek moes, om 'n beter
toekoms te he.
Troep maak seker die
vlag op jou linker skouer waai
altyd vorentoe,
Trope grawe daai gat,
Troep skeer jou hare,
Troep, is jy lief vir jou land.
Dit is maklik om n mens te laat
doen wat onmenslik is
As jy hom eers laat vergeet dat hy
mens is.
Afgryse is minder afgryslik
As dit deel is van jou werk
beskrywing.
Toe ek my eerste dooie kind
gesien het,
Het ek my self oorreed dat dit is
waarvoor ek opgelei was.
Toe ek my tiende dooie kind
gesien het,
Het my brein hulle in 'n
kompartement begin stoor.
Toe ek my eerste dooie soldaat
gesien het,
Het ek myself gesê dit sal nooit
ek
wees.
'n Familie man lyk net soos 'n
terroris.
Jihad beteken heilige oorlog,
Maar ek het die verkeerde god
aanbid in daai land.
Hulle oorlog was 'n oorlog teen
my.
Ek het geantwoord met my
geweer,
Nooit vrae gevra nie.
Ek het huis toe gekom met al my
vingers en tone,
Maar 'n gedeelte van my het
agter
gebly.
In die aand maak my brein daai
doods kompartement oop.
Ek was 'n soldaat,
Maar verkoolde lyke maak vir 'n
kak alarm in die oggend,
Lucifer se braai het 'n neiging om
aan jou neus te kleef,
Insomnia doen min om my
senuwees te kalmeer.
Meeste mense droom hul lewe
lank om 'n held te wees,
Ek herleef dit elke nag in my
nagmerries.
I went to a wild Halloween party on a dark night,
with a guy dressed up like a Knight.
I was a British Queen fit for a golden throne,
but, by the end- my crown I had thrown.
I danced with a man who had a tail,
and others- that will make a nice tale.
I was approached by a man quite pasty pale,
later, in the evening I was sick in a pail.
A bit wobbly I lost my balance on a stair,
and tumbled as everyone there stopped to stare.
So, I went looking for my "him,"
and found my Knight singing a hymn.
I just waited for the end standing by his side,
but, it went on and on- as I mumbled and sighed.
By this time . . . my feet were in pain,
I was sure they would shatter like a window pane.
Angry and frustrated I looked at my cache,
and for a taxi home I have just enough cash.
So, I fled that Halloween party without being seen,
'cause, I just had to get away from that awful scene.
I slurred my address loudly for the taxi driver to hear,
and finally by some miracle I am finally here.
Safe and sound in my lovely, cozy, quiet home,
or as a proper British Queen would say hom.
______________________
October 13, 2022
Poetry/Homephone Rhyme/Wear What and Go Where
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1494-218-13
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Homephone Rhyme
sponsor, Hat Bueckert, Judged 11/13/2022
Third Place
Twintig tien tot nou
So vinnig soos jy inwurm… in troosprys vlees-genot
..en dink dat dit so lank sal hou; Pasop vir toekoms lot!
En as ek dan verkeerd mag wees – bewys dit dat jy het
presies gedoen wat ek kon sien; Die fout was niè ons bed!
As ek die feite reg verstaan; en my gedagtes dwaal
na daardie tyd toe hy besluit; my by my werk kom haal –
en saam met ons… aan tafel sit – selfs oorslaap vir die nag…
Die legkaartstuk ontbloot aan my…: dat jy hom toè al smag!
En effens met die tyd verloop; steeds in ons ou verhaal.
(Dit was daai aand wat èk weg was) jou skandes jou inhaal.
Gesê dat dit ‘n hoorsê was…; jy hom nie aan wou raak…
Twee jaar later, facebook wys…, jul foto amper naak!
Nou sê jy my dat ek verbrou en jou wou agterlaat?
Terwyl die laaste legkaartstuk jou sondes teen my haat
wil ek probeer om aan te gaan…; my lewe op te bou
in plaas daarvan om blindelings my drang te onderhou.
Ek draai my rug finaal op jou, maak jy maar soos jy moet.
Mag hy jou gelukkig maak. Mag jy hom alles gee.
Ek was my hand onskuldig met - my vredevol’ gemoed
terwyl ek dan die laaste traan…; hier van my wang af vee.
Duet poetry soup
In gemeen was darem een
Die binne-wens na musiekant
My woorde sal ek jou verleen
Ek ‘n alt, en jy duskant…
Sing saam my die glorie-lied
Wat lof besing aan Hom wat bied
Die wonders van ons voortbestaan
Die pyn het seker al vergaan?
Albums maak ons vol en droom
Nou sal ek hier langs jou staan
Saam te sing soos idioom
Sodat die werklikheid vergaan
Eensaam
Daai eensame man speel weer op sy kitaar
Sy lewe is vuil en skoon deurmekaar
Hy bly by ‘n murasie, maar dalk amper nie
En eensame voëls in die lug wat nog vlie’
Die drankbottels lê om hom, dis net waar jy kyk
Hy lewe, maar lyk soos ‘n lewende lyk
Van daeraad tot skemer – knaag dit aan sy lewer
die vrae van opregtes wat sondes ontwyk
Die wereld vergaan sels al is hy gedaan
Hy’t ook nie erens om eers heen te gaan
Maar sal hy sy droom met die mensdom kan deel?
Sien ons hom werk? Dink jy hy is al heel?
Die Marionet
Daar voor op die verhoog
So ewe droog.
Die Marionet
Met die Meester se stem
So, asof getem.
Die Marionet
Geen wil van sy eie
Het hy ‘n getuie?
Die Marionet?
Hy dans darem en sing
Hy is ‘n snaakse ding.
Jy weet mos
Aan toutjie van gena’
Niks wat hom pla
Moet ek weer?
Met die meester se mag
Het almal gelag
Vir die pop
As die vertoning verby is
Opgesluit in ‘n kis...
DIE MARIONET
Voëlvry
Niks wat hom keer
die voël in die lug
sy vryheid word meer
en vryer word die vlug
Strek jou vlerke oop
En pak die lewe aan
Staan op en loop
Die harde lewensbaan
Met die skare wat skree
In die hoop van U wederkoms
vir die lof van U majesteit
met my hart weer aan U gegee
wil ek die wereld bewys
dat U in my verhuis
Aan U behoort lof, eer en soveel meer,
want deur die Bloed van U Seun,
het U ons geseen,
om n nasie te word
wat op U sal steun
Soos Israel in die woestyn
is ons geloof soms te klein
om te begryp wat ons in U kan kry.
Dig aan Hom
Bevaar van gevaar
O, Een van die Vader
Lei my in U wee
En dank vir wat U gee
Lof aan Hom wat
een op my pad
plaas my te wys
dat dit was nie al
maar in elk geval
goedheid en wel
op sy tyd getel.
Vergeeft mij dan waar
ich twijfelend gefalen
Dis mijn gebeden
Amen!
The Little Match Girl by H.C. Andersen Part Rewritten By Scarlett G. Rollins
Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening-- the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.//She had a long cloak over her that also had been worn out and ripped. Her feet were getting colder by every step she took. She passed the Burling's home, the richest people in Denver. Their house was big and quite tall too. It was painted a nice white color. She could see smoke coming out of their chimney and longed to be in there. "Hello Ms. How ya doin'" said a man behind her. She was brought back to reality quite quickly. She turned around to look at the man behind her. "Fine I guess. How about you, sir" She replied. The man looked surprised by her manners. Appearance isn't everything. She thought to herself. "Abou' the same here. What's your name little Missy? Mines Albert." He asked her. "My name is Angelina Anderson." He had a look of shock again. She was now starting to get annoyed. "I must get going now." She finished. Angelina turned and walked away. Now eager to get home to tell her mother about this strange man she had met on her way home by the Burling's hom
Verkrag
Vrou
Sag en vol mag
Rustig,hard, vol krag
Stamp hom weg
Dit is nie reg
Skeurend,stukkend
Jou vrou wees weg;
Rou,grou die donker
Rukkend, bukkend
Jou vrou wees dronker
Leeg,geen krag
Hortend, hawend
Vrou, verkrag,
Leeg,geen krag.
©Theresa Rossouw