Best Honest Poems
RETREAT TO HEED OUR HONEST DEEDS
Two old oak trees weathered by winds and rain
with fallen leaves, branches and toughened bark
to shield a core of grandeur, and sustain
the wisdom borne to see the light from dark.
Two noble men aware of twilight time
both face evil world with courage and grace
Love and Nature gifts each, a life sublime
all standing with courage none can erase.
Each rooted within mother earth's great fold
weathering this world's darkest raging storms
images show lives lived regally and bold
tho' existing in weakened earthen forms.
With words of wisdom written in our seeds
we seek retreat to heed our honest deeds.
22nd June, 2018
T.J Grén & Robert Lindley
My darling enigma, my dove
You’re the epitome of my love
Your smile shines at me pearly white
Pale skin shines and glints in the light
Silken locks, obsidian flow
Eyes just like ice, crystalline glow
Peals of laughter ring like a bell
Enchant me; I’m under your spell
You walk with a musical flow
Tiptoeing with softness through snow
But, alas, you open your mouth
Utter tripe spilling out
If only you’d keep your mouth shut.
(Love from Anonymous)
Sixteenth president “Honest Abe” Lincoln
did a lot of mighty fine thinkin’.
Though born in a cabin dirt poor,
he’d rise to free the slaves with a civil war.
Written 5/30/2015
for 'A BRIAN STRAND JULY' Poetry Contest
" Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead."(Final lines from Walt Whitman's "O Captain My Captain")
My hero, oh how wonderful it would have been
to know you personally, to have spent time with you,
especially since I learned the way you were back then
both as a child, then as a man – so strong, so wise, so true!
The way you’ve been described, you had a gangly look -
not a handsome lad, but oh, you were so bright!
You were poor, but you did all you could just to find a book,
one you might savor late into the night.
I relate to how you had a very human side;
to the way you loved to play a prank or talk jokingly.
You never were unkind, and you had no worldly pride.
Preferring friends to chores, you also loved poetry!
What other man born in a cabin would rise up and accomplish so much?
Predestined for greatness, you had inside you the desire
to be better! When you realized that your country boy dialect was such
a hindrance, you taught yourself proper English to climb higher!
You were so very good, and your soul so godly old!
Once in New Orleans you witnessed the African's sad plight -
men and women chained like animals were being sold.
All you saw, felt and heard determined you'd fight for the right!
You had no religion, Honest Abe, but you looked to God!
Freeing slaves, you also would have fought for women’s freedom too.
A melancholy man at times, and maybe a bit odd,
“ O Captain, my Captain,” poets ever more will praise you.
For "To Honor My Hero" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
^As I got up out of my bed today,
I had a thought that won’t go away.
I looked out the window to see sunny skies,
I´m sure that the smile, showed in my eyes.
So I’ll start today with joy not with sorrow,
Because we are not promised tomorrow.
As I showered and shaved and went to the loo,
My thoughts turned, to what I should do.
I could just have a lazy day, after all it’s Saturday,
But that’s not me, it’s not my way.
For each day we wake is a new blessing,
Life is for living, so I’m not messing.
It’s world cup time, so I could watch TV,
A game or two, or even three.
But if I watched three I would feel guilty,
I want to feel like the world still needs me.
So I try to achieve something everyday,
Even if it’s in my own small way.
I call a friend to see that she is OK
We chat for a while, and I hear her say,
She’s doing fine but I could hear that she’s not well
Something in her voice, Somethings wrong I could tell.
So we arrange later to get together,
A coffee a beer or lunch or whatever
So we meet at one and as I arrive,
She rushes to hug me, with tears in her eyes.
After a minute, she says she is fine,
An hour passes then she tells me what’s on her mind.
She has been to the doctor, only to find,
Her days are numbered, it’s the end of the line.
What can I do, what can I say?
I try to console her, in my own way.
I tell her to take it one day at a time,
I will be with her, it will be fine.
It’s hard to take, as I have cancer too
Let’s just have some fun, just me and you.
We start making plans of things to do,
places to visit and some people too.
I am trying to hide my emotions pretend I’m okay,
She see straight through me, then I hear her say.
It will be okay, if you stand by me,
She is smiling now, and that’s great to see.
Hours go by as we sit and talk
It’s about five o’clock, we decide to walk.
After a bit she wants to rest for a while,
Her head on my shoulder, both with a smile.
Sitting admiring the wonderful views,
Right there and then, my friend I did loose.
She never woke up, again from that place,
Now weeks later there’s a smile on my face.
Because she went with a smile, not with sorrow.
She knew that we are not promised tomorrow.
It makes me feel proud to have been her friend,
To have been with her, up to the very end.
I know my darling how hard you try
But I’m still partial to mama’s pie!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Best Rhyming Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
© 26th September 2021
I was asked to write an honest portrayal of my life-
I could say I am a daughter, mother and wife.
My days are full of so much more than just those things-
I spend time sketching portraits, playing guitar and I sing.
My past is full of such loss, blame and internal regret-
But the lessons I have learned I shall never forget.
I spend a few hours a day writing verses from my soul-
Expressing passion from my pain and joy that makes me whole.
I compose lyrics and create melodies sitting on my balcony-
Forming such dulcet rhythm and sweet euphonious harmony.
The bond I share with two sisters transcends space and time-
I lost one tragically to suicide, it turned my eyesight blind.
I’ve been married for fourteen years but together for twenty-
I have a husband who adores me and I reciprocate plenty.
I am a stay at home wife and a mother to a beauty queen-
She is my soul-saving wonder who is almost a teen.
I have fought addiction and my life was almost over-
I am happy to say I am now almost eight years sober.
The last thirty-six years have been full of calamity and pain-
But through my faith I have found the sunshine through the rain.
My life is abundant in anguish yet deep love and compassion-
I try to live my days in benediction in a lovely womanly fashion.
I am honest when I say the pain from my past taught me lessons-
But I am also grateful for all my day-to-day sanctioned blessings.
Your Best Honest Poem
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
Date Written: September 17, 2016
My word is my Gold
No ifs nor buts attached
A spade’s a spade
A joker’s a clown in a circus charade
I think carefully before speaking out
Knowing my feelings maybe bias
I censor my mouth
If need be
And Up against a Wall
I’ll tell it like it is...
Never being disrespectful
Sometimes the truth may get you killed
I avoid all kinds of liars
For where there’s smoke
Surely there’s fire
Certainly, Misery loves company they say
So if it's looking for a Victim
I'm getting Out of the WAY
My Voice is my SOUL
What I Choose to say I hold
My Word is my GOLD
A small patch of flowers, a mountain top glade
slapped into twirls of magenta by cold rain~
voiceless but pleading for the purity of truth
to be taken by {a} tender into the beating of dawn
In sundream they'll play,black butterly and fawnheart
tempering time untill dusk makes the crows bark,
cackling where was the {us} when living turned to blood
drowned the frolick of every prayer for tomorrow-
was it a chain of slanted decisions,that minced the light
bad luck (as when a dime slides from the ritze to the grate...
maybe we met long ago, when we crawled from the sea
took different directions by the will of a rogue breeze
maybe we had parallel lives?
made from the bones of wild planets of fire
what happens when magenta meets black and blue
[this is a good time to dust of the pallet-start mixing the hues],
what colors do a rabid cyclone leave behind
the texture of twisted stars,
to be swallowed by the devil of devine?
young butterfly remembers the innocense of light,
when moonglow made love to the black lips of night.
'till a pack of knives slashed at its wings
(ta hell with the good fight).
..now it no longer searches for mountain top flowers,
or dreams in pools of magenta-
it lies in the mud juggling broken eggs
upon a pile of old dung-
how in the hell can such a thing... love
again.
but their is a softness buried deep
in this blaze of a runaway train
hop on board if you will
follow the reflection of manogre...
to be cont.
Shocking as it may seem to believe,
I dislike iTunes Christian and gospel genre.
The only explanation I can fathom,
Is that all its songs sound the same to me.
My preference is hip hop and pop,
Lecrae and Andy Mineo are my tops.
I do like Ariana when listening to pop,
Mostly I rock to the Apple’s pop.
I love J. Cole’s “Brackets” so much,
I even wrote about it for my class.
So much truth exposed in the song,
It’s impossible to ignore the message.
My focus effects my reality,
I keep Jesus as my centerpiece.
Without him, a me there wouldn’t be,
Connected like the roots of a tree.
To lover,my soul
opens inward so much pain
woosh clean
Shared, now free
not lost,understood,woosh
broken bits and tears
flow, woosh did not burn
the man,the past, no more fear.
I was I am still
She is a willing listener
Imagine being able to confide without fear
Many people have told her their stories
Private thoughts are kept confidential
Likeability factor is at an all-time high
Exceptional way of not giving you advice
Her willingness to listen is appreciated
Openness is her middle name
Never have to carefully choose our words
Each person feels honored to tell their tale to her
She knows when to keep her ideas to herself
Trusting her is easy
We like being validated
Outstanding is her ability to empathize
Meaningful conversation
Accepting is her go-to way
Never have we felt so understood and appreciated
honest mum it wasn't me
I didn't take a nibble of the cake
it was just as I walked into the kitchen
I saw something move....mum....I did ...
was the biggest mouse you ever saw,
it was stealthily moving towards the cake
whiskers twitching, nose in the air
I watched amazed
then it pounced, you should have seen him jump,
went at least a foot in the air and landed on top of the icing.
lifted one foot then the other....
all stuck up with wet icing
he began to nibble the cake,
when icing dried he licked his feet clean and ran away,
see mum, you can see his foot prints,
wasn't me mum......honest.
penned 5 may 2016.
I feel so tired… not with my work.. or my life…
I am so tired with my own thoughts own heart..
I would really like a few minutes break at last..
I have searched the whole world for a honest friend…
A friend to be with me always.. To talk to me and to know me..
Not physically.. But emotionally… With thoughts and calls..
Even a single message to know that I am alright…
A person just like me.. From my own heart..
Who will understand my silence in my words…And tears behind my smiles…
Who will care for me and be there for me…
Not only in my happiness but also in my tears..
Like I am there for friends.. like how I care for them..
Everyone is busy with their own daily working life..
Phone calls are not answered and messages aren’t replied…
So many have become so cold hearted like ice..
Its really heard to fins a true one,, honest one and a caring one..
I have searched the whole wide world..But I haven’t still found none..
One a wise man told me and wrote to me and said..
“Friends are like ships in the sea… they stay for a while and leave…
And there will be many ships that will passes by..
But not even no ship will stay on the sea forever and by..”
So I feel like I am the sea and all my friends have passed me by..
But I am still searching for that honest one.. Careering,,,
To be my friend for until deaths do us apart..!
Dilu D Wijegunasekara
19th of august 2019
If I proclaim to love the Lord
but hate my fellowman,
the Bible says I'm lying. Love,
not hate, is in His plan.
Bad attitudes towards others
if they're fueled day and night,
soon morph into destructive hate,
a vitriolic blight.
Though love can be so powerful,
hate can be just as strong.
We don't like to admit sometimes
our feelings are so wrong.
We choose to sugarcoat the truth
when hate is in our hearts.
We cling to euphemisms
while we throw our poison darts.
Sometimes we're hypocritical,
refusing to confess
to sins like hate; yet we still think
the Lord will surely bless!
Those motivated by ill will
will never know true peace.
They'll moan throughout a friendless life
and find no sweet release.