Best Humble Poems
Mama says this is where
I was born on a stormy night
the benignant horn was where
she'd paused to breathe and reside
The bounteous hollow took her in
and echoed my cries and coos
spiralling down the springs
to protect me as if I were Zeus
I slide along the spirals
to quench my itching thirst
a joyous melody in the hollow
and palatable unceasing food
When it rains we glide to be dry
it shields us from the biting frost
when it snows and humans sing
of the ballads of festive days
At nights I crawl and climb
to the window of that horn
and watch the lavender starry sky
she recites stories of distant worlds
Sweet symphonies of chirping birds
wake me up on fragrant mornings
at times I step outside the door
to wander in some nearby forest
"Do you stay inside that cornucopia?"
A giant cub questioned me one day
I looked at Mama with my little black eyes
and wished to know the same
"Honey, this is our humble dwelling
that nurtures us, protects us, loves us
as if this was the great destiny
of a humble horn of spirals
This is our door to a beautiful heaven
with aromatic clouds and winged doors
this will be the blissful abode of tiny beetles
who lived happily in a divine cornucopia"
9th May 2020
For Cornucopia Poetry Contest
Sponsored By: Kai Michael Neumann
Premiere Contest Winner: First Place
BRIAN'S CHOICE 10,any form,any theme Contest
Winner: Honorable Mention
FROM HUMBLE BEGINNINGS
As the bitter Northern wind howled in the grey early morn,
Sat a young child half frozen, looking sad and forlorn,
He came from a rundown broken home, with 6 siblings,
Where there was little money, no hope and poor beginnings.
Rob always sat on the same flat rock in a nearby littered field,
Not dressed for the biting winter, and his body to shield,
Sat aimlessly, blankly gazing at coal trucks driving by,
Tears rolling down his grubby cheeks, he’d let out a heartfelt sigh!
His father drove trucks, would he come home, even late, tonight,
Would his mother be sober, kiss her husband; say all would be right,
Would there ever be enough food for a big family of nine,
Or would they forever stay hungry, sent shivers up his spine!
A young girl his age noticed this boy, whose name was Rob,
Dressed in a warm coat, gloves, ear muffs, but was no snob,
Lived in the suburbs, often saw Rob today, she brought him a coat,
A slab of chocolate, a warm scarf for his head, ears and throat!
Young Rob liked this young Missy, they began to meet every day,
Lizzy invited him home, met her parents, went there every Sunday,
Their friendship grew, and blossomed and they fell madly in love,
Rob studied, got a scholarship to Technical College, rewarded from above.
Lizzy’s father was the Mine Manager, and he liked this young man,
When finished his studies, made him foreman and gave him a van,
They got engaged in December, married in the spring of the following year,
Rob became a dad, loved his wife, who had pierced his heart with a spear!
They grew old together, as did Lizzy’s parents, who both got ill and died,
Rob became Mine Manager, this family had adopted him with such pride,
But he never forgot his own parents, and his oh so humble beginnings,
Always sent them a monthly sum, and for them always had feelings!
Heartfelt are my thanks for all the blessings
ever flowing in, out and through my life.
I feel fortunate for each go-round with strife
that arrived to design my soul’s truth dressings.
My humbled breath streams awe when I feel His touch
upon my grateful soul, heart, thoughts and actions.
With love, He guides my steps to divine traction
and lifts fear-based, stinking thinking from my clutch.
I am delighted when harmony fills my home
where family memories grow, glow and unfold.
My simple life prospers me more than bars of gold.
My soul greets days with heart-praise wherever I roam.
Beside the Zhuque Bridge wild flowers bloom lonely,
On the Wuyi Alley the setting sun beams serenely.
The swallows that once nested in halls of the noble,
Have now flown into the simple homes of the humble.
(tran.)
He prepared the pie
With greatest care
Within the pot
My brains and hair
For hers had been
A lofty perch
Just a peg or two
Would never do
Cremated remains
Formed the shell
Into the plate
My crushed bones fell
I could still see
But could not yell
The pie's aroma
A story to tell
My innards baked
Hour by hour
The smell of blood
And blackened flour
Words poured in
Enhanced the flavour
The humble pie
For her to savour
Fork to mouth
My body consumed
From the plate
My heart exhumed
The baker says
She's eating crow
The taste is bitter
She eats the pie slow
The true recipe
He does not show
Humble pies plentiful
Stacked row on row
The victims many
Some you may know
If he invites you
I beg you not to go!
For Sheri's Plentitude of Pie Contest,
I went with a halloween twist.
THE HUMBLE CATHEDRAL
In the glaring eyes of the sun
dressed thin in lush green moss,
my shady sky-high trunk compeer
dark brown wrinkled arms spreading free
my slender fingers of verdant hue.
They swing, swing in quiet seesaws
attune to the cradling light of July breeze.
Pleased and appeased, I puff and puff:
oxygen dancing slow with other gas.
The blowing winds from the east,
The heaven tears cascading down,
they bathe and cleansed me but!
They too disturb causing murmurs
and rustles during my deep sleep...
Fall approaches, smell of despair hangs,
it pose danger making my leaves sad.
I began to weep as they slowly tumble,
tumbling below, leaving me naked.
Facing later the harsh bites of cold,
my arms turned brittle from right to left,
hearing them creak and break. Thankfully,
my feet safe beneath the ground.
I stood firm together with my friends,
unafraid of the ice but so scared
of humans carrying a sharp ax.
______________________________________
==Contest Name: TREES PERSONIFIED==
=Contest Sponsor: Charlotte Pudifoot=
~~4th Place~~
9:32 pm, August 26, 2015
To me you are a sacred dream
Each warmest hope upon the day.
A glass of wish from precious stream
Bright trace of sun through clouds of grey.
My endless trust in times of need
Our secrets shared we do confide
In passions breath to one I’m freed
Past darkest hour you are my guide.
Protection is my granted gift
To strive for you my sole delight
No one event shall birth a rift
Forever yours my quest to fight.
Perfections promise I shall chase
it's luck you chose my life to grace.
23rd May 2016
A humble man is what I am before you.
You see, I am not worthy to say…
“Sir, may I have your daughter’s hand,
But please yield to your wife’s pleas:
Calm down a while as I explain what’s deep in my heart.
Why deprive your daughter of a possible life of pure bliss..?
Because sir, understand that love’s triumph seldom fails.
You see sir, “a humble man standing before you is what I am.
The love and protection you have for your daughter I understand.
But you see “simple is what raised me,
A simple man, with simple needs.
A simple man who is able to love deeply and fairly.
Yes I have made my fair share of mistakes.
Might have scarred an angel or two,
But who was ever born with a heart of gold..?
A humble man is what I am before you.
You see sir; the heart is simply out of our control.
How can one ignore a beautiful feeling?
A feeling that pulls hard at every fore of your soul.
How at some point we all wish we could roll over and forget its undying existence.
But sir, who was ever given a constraint heart..?
Yes, a humble man is what I am.
You see, I work sir, to earn a living
You may as you have, call it slave work,
Unworthy to have your daughter as my own.
But you see, these hands are built,
Built to struggle and earn a better life,
No man was ever born fulfilled sir,
And no man ever chooses to be born poor.
A humble man is what I was brought up to be,
But you see sir; it hurts me to see your daughter turn her face away
Turn away, to hide soft tears, which ooze dejectedly from her pure eyes.
What crime have I committed not to be regarded worthy..?
Because you see sir, at the end of the day love’s triumph seldom fails.
A humble man, with a heart that will strive,
Simple ways that will overcome all tribulations,
A heart that has been pulled from its place of sheer hopelessness
Hands that will slave for a better life and future for your daughter.
An upbringing that will sweep her off her feet every chance there is;
Is what I am sir.
So you see sir, please listen and understand that love’s triumph seldom fails
When two hearts are willing.
"When The Snow Melts",
When "Spring Is In The Air"
When "Tears Of The Sky" shower blessings
When"Zephyr's Silky Tendrils" caresses us
When "A Nightingale Sings Of Dawn's Glory"
When basking in "Sunset Silence"
When "Night Sky's Party" is splendid...
We thank our "Saviour"
for the"The Luxury Of Breathing"
for "Bottomless Love"
We are "On Cloud Nine"!
When we are filled with "A Sense Of Emptiness",
"Lost In The Fragility Of Dreams"
While living "A LIFE JUXTAPOSED"
Full of "TEARS", "depression"
While offering "A Painful Prayer","Forgiveness Prayer"
When we "Cry Out To God"
We experience "God's Goodness", "His Sufficient Grace"
Understand he is our "Refuge And Strength"
We are filled with "Eternal Hope"
"Why forbear when He is near"!
We feel like "A Blessed Bud" with
"No More Worries For Tomorrow"
We understand "Life Of Trust - A Must"
"Attitude Of Gratitude" helps
"Happiness Is In Small Things"
We offer "Thanks" to "God's Goodness" his " Graciousness"
"HE Is" "Giving Godly Grace" " Every Time"
We experience "Agape Love"
We sing "A Song Of Praise"
"Keep On Singing"
"Lord Jesus Christ, My Joy"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: Whole poem is made of titles of poems written by Jo. I have merely added few words here and there.
I choose Jo as I love her poetry, I find her poems, beautiful, and profound. Her poems on Jesus always fills me with faith, love and joy. She is adept in all types of poetry. For this contest, I searched all her past poems and found many poetic gems. I need to take time out to read all her past poems.
I attribute this wonderful poem to her superb titles. As I wrote this, I experienced how much God loves us.
Thank you Jo from the bottom of my heart
16.06.2021
Poet Chosen : Jo Daniel
Submitted to Title Wave, Richard Lamoureux
The Humble Pen (by Steven Cooke)
What dreams we have,
We share with the pen.
What love we find,
We share with the pen.
What happiness we find,
We share with the pen.
When our soul bleeds,
We find solace in the pen.
When our hearts are broken,
We find comfort in the pen.
When all hope is lost,
We find salvation in the pen.
And when we leave this mortal coil.
We will leave the pen,
for our Children to pick up.
For the pen, is a rainbow,
For our dreams, hopes and fears.
Where the heart and soul has a voice.
Where love resides for your fellow man,
And where beauty is found everywhere.
It confirms our existence, our beliefs.
And though our lives are brief.
It is a noble quest,
A gift of love to the world,
And a seed of hope,
So Let the children plant and nurture this hope
And they too will see the rainbow
Let this legacy nourish their lives
With love and beauty,
And let the humble pen go on,
To find the next voice,
The next chapter on this wonderful planet.
We Call earth.
When I came to the end of me
and stopped trying to fix it by myself mentality
in desperation I would cry out to my Father
hoping that He would answer when He saw me now on my knees.
For if I chose to humble myself
under the mighty hand of God
and I did come with meekness humility and petition His mercy
and He remembered that I was after all by His own blood bought!
I could not therefore try to pretend or to fool Him
by my thoughtless words and prayers
as He knew my thoughts and the desire of my heart
yet, He would still for me truly care.
So I stopped therefore trying to change myself and situations
for it would truly only be a temporary sham
it will not last and others would know this change was not for real causing needless humiliation because He truly does have for me a very great plan.
It was time therefore, to die to myself and repent and
totally surrender all of my life and my will to Him
because it is after all the only Way of a successful walk
is to love and live totally dependent on Him.
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
April 1, 1995
A wild flower that grows with lovely florets yellow,
it is the dandelion- a very humble fellow.
Some think them ugly and want to destroy,
but I recall as a child finding a dandelion with joy.
I would collect a bouquet of yellow beauty for mother,
to place on her kitchen ledge- then give her another.
They spread and grow, each seed a good flyer,
floating on the warm breezes to any place they desire.
Like tiny parachutes they fly away into the wind,
leaving a dried up hull far, far, far behind.
Did you know that all the bee's and insects love them,
and that butterflies and all kinds of birds eat them.
People eat them too- the flower, leaves and roots,
but others want to stamp them out with their boots.
As a child we would blow on the seeds to make them fly,
making a wish as the seeds would go up high, high, high.
Yes, indeed, a dead dandelion is an ugly thing for sure,
but I have memories of dandelion bouquets that ensure.
________________________________
October 30, 2018 - Edit
Poetry/Couplet/The Humble Dandelion
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1113-455-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Standard Contest 175
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
The humble tree standing strong,
its hands rooted deeply and wild beneath the earth,
Defeating the powerful full winds,
Standing strong and tall,
Holding its chin to the sky.
Never looking down for a moment.
Wrestling with the changing emotions of the seasons.
Holding the same long lasting position,
though its leaves may be withered.
It is refuge to the singing birds of the mourning
and its persevering stand still seen in the shadows of the night.
Tree of old ages share your bark of strong hold with me.
I will discover hope - despite chaos
I will find the joy - despite the pain
I will find faith - despite the silence
I will find mercy - despite the rain
I will find the love - In a humble heart
A heart who is flooded
With kindness and warmth
A heart who knows goodness
Flows from the veins of one
Who gives without limits
Who listens to the soul
And finds their vision
Within the dance of feeling
That lights the heart with
Meaning, dreaming, fulfillment
Hope for comforting
Inspiration for adoring
Music for enlightenment
Love that fills and overflows
Spilling out through the universe
With ideas, insights, imaginings
Gasps of mesmerizing solace
Given to those who know well
The feeling of affection and worship
For the One who gave us all our
Purpose, our thoughts, feelings
Everything that reminds our heart
To feel, to give, to shine a light
From the very breath of life…
Illuminating the brilliance of a fire
Captured by God’s gentle tug
On heartstrings who listen to
God’s tender impressions of
Love that is forever alive, nourishing
Guiding and creating second chances
For our hearts to grow worthy of this
Feeling, this love that is alive, giving
Assurance, hope, inspiration that colors
Our entire world with breathtaking
Laughter, exhilaration, imagination
Joy that overflows the heart’s veins
Bursting with rapture that will last!
Lord I am humbled
By your words So many great poet
So many whom don't even know it
Assumed and shine
Many far better than I
Pointed out, "shared from God"'
It is important for if one writes truth
Then they, we are sharing the Light."
For in His sights, this is so very right
Assumed and shine
So many whom don't even know it
By your words So many great poet
Lord I am humbled
Assumed and shine
Many far better than I
Humble am I
base on Comments 12/12/2017 by Robert Lindley on a JELSR poem
inspired from words from
Dedicated to Poet Robert Lindley
4/27/18
written words by Robert Lindley & James Edward Lee Sr.
Copyright © 2017, 2018
from anthology "God's Children New Poets, Poems and New Friends 3"