Best Idealists Poems
Will there be someone for me
Who loves me with insanity?
Who wants me, entirely?
Who touches with intensity?
Will there be someone for me?
Will there be someone to kiss?
Who when gone, my kiss will miss?
Someone full of honesty…
Whose love is no travesty...
Will there be someone for me?
I want a love that’s wild and mad
The kind of love devoid of sad
The kind of love that’s, oh, so sweet
That “makes love” like a tasty treat
That eats up every part of me
And brings to life each fantasy…
Oh tell me, tell me what you see!
Will there be someone for me?
Eileen Manassian
Idealists have it hard....Perfection just doesn't exist. Something to keep in mind! ;)
Categories:
idealists, desire,
Form:
Rhyme
DEEP AUTUMN’S RISE
Deep autumn rises
Alike a fond glance
At a balding friend
One is suddenly aware
That life – almost suddenly – changes
Almost certainly ends
Some idealists reach back
To summer to a warmer time
And find upon vision’s inner screen
A happiness all picnics
Beach volley summer moon’s kiss
All the earth gone green
And oh yes deep autumn’s fall
That sea of curl rust and ruby
Has open air painting’s charm
But maid moon when seen cold circled
Through barren branches
Gives one’s summer soul alarm
Dave Austin
Categories:
idealists, autumn,
Form:
Free verse
remembering nostalgic days when
idealists aspiring to feel zen
would immerse in ink their fountain pen
to inscribe deep poems now and then
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~SUNSETTING WHISPERS~ 2020
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on January 13, 2020 for contest WHEN AND THEN sponsored by JENISH SOMADAS - RANKED 4TH
Categories:
idealists, age, history, peace, poems,
Form:
Monorhyme
Regardless of how you paint the reason for the season
(or ignore it), I hereby invite you to join me in a call for/wish for/thought for/prayer for/(insert your word here: ____ for)
Peace on Earth and some much-needed GOOD WILL to ALL
women/children/critters/men, etc.
(and maybe even a little compassion for poor old planet earth)
I hope ya got someone to hug and someone to hug ya back.
I sincerely hope that every day finds you with a full kettle
and underwear that doesn’t itch.
Idealists tend to get crucified, blown up, drawn and quartered,
vilified or just plain ignored
but
that doesn’t mean we should give up.
I tend to think poeters are idealists, otherwise, why would we keep believing that tossing eighty zillion poems a day into cyber space would make a difference in the cosmic tilt?
And, even though we spend a whole gob of time
writing about negative things — the woes and foibles of life,
we’re pretty good at saying:
“I’ll read yours, if you read mine,”
...even when we disagree.
I think that’s a pretty decent start toward looking each other in the eye — maybe even shaking hands — or, at the very least, choosing to resist an urge to put salt in someone’s tea just for spite.
There are a lot of ducks in this swamp. Some ducks fly better than others. Some quack louder. Some have more colorful pin feathers. Some are pretty good at stomping grapes so others can drink the wine.
It’d be a pretty boring soup if we didn’t have a few mergansers,
dabblers, gimbsheimers and such... maybe even a few turkeys
...an occasional grebe.
I realize this was one heck of a meander just to say “HAPPY HOLIDAYS!” but hey, I gotta do my part to fill up the cybervoid.
If you’re not into the holiday thang, no biggie. I hope you’re happy too.
There’s a lotta room for words in cyberia, folks, so
write on!
huggadoodlingfritcheroonies
~ john
Categories:
idealists, chanukah, christmas, holiday, seasons,
Form:
Nobody knows how life will play out-
the steps of a journey marching through each scene,
for futurity is sightless, only the beginning has eyes.
Nobody knows the number of heartbeats...
no artist, craftsman, designer, seascapist,
no orchestrator or sculptor- no medium empowered
with her crystal ball.
"If only", we say, then we would change most all that has been,
and all that will be, for failures want to become otherwise,
grappling for second chances and polished prizes.
We count up all grievances, blaming anyone and anything
but ourselves, unable to see or foretell the future,
as the crystal ball is lost in the squalor of dead-end-streets
ending at the brick wall, where brittle leaves are huddled in
a funeral pile, for they too did not know their destiny, their fate
left to the slightest breeze.
Two cars colliding at the intersection- a wreckage which
a moment in time could have changed- futures guided by
one misstep, one misspoken word, one slip on pen, a brief
sweep of a secondhand, a slight hesitation- as quickly as
the clouded breath exhaled on a winter's day.
We wait for the scroll to unfold, or perhaps a new dance,
or the chance to gambol about in the script of life's cabaret.
But nobody knows, no visionary, no king or queen, for
top-shelf trophies are always out of reach.
Nobody knows how close we are to God's embrace.
The world is constantly heading somewhere, on the
cusp of a new symphony, or a vessel's moonsail, a
prologue to the captain's destiny into unchartered waters
to exotic lands, or just a cruel twisted fate
hidden behind perfumed veils.
Idealists search for answers as time sneaks by,
for all the possibilities that may never appear.
The past has already docked on shores never to sail again.
We are cuffed to this day, so let regrets drift away.
Conduct the dance that is only ours. It should not
be shoved into pockets to save, but to spend and savor,
to relish and taste.
Categories:
idealists, future, inspirational, journey, life,
Form:
Free verse
Maybe one day.
Maybe~ one day l will fly away,
Fly away to the moon,
And dance among the stars,
To discover the essence of spring,
On Jupiter and on Mars,
Ceteris~paribus (other things being equal),
To fill my heart with tranquility,
Fill it with harmony,
And feel the sounds of silence
Maybe l’ll then smile with my heart.
Maybe one day l’ll fly away,
To a world of realists not idealists,
Where politics is never deemed a game,
Somewhere where there is true benevolence,
Not benevolence to profiteer and make name,
A place where politicians don’t flaunt egotist credentials,
And absolute fabrication persists never.
I would love that kind of a place,
Away from the traffic boom,
Too far from the insanity of mankind,
So far from the energy crisis and global warming pronouncing world doom
Maybe one day l will fly way,
I might not have to,
If there be world war three,
Be it the last nail on the coffin of world problems,
Be it not, I’ll just have to fly away,
And see if dreams come true,
What has been, will not be,
What will be, that has never been,
Life runs in cycles.
So I’ve been told and so I believe.
Categories:
idealists, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Imagism
I've experienced the exuberance of youth. Through endless summer days, of blissful
childhood ignorance.
I have dreamt the most glorious dreams. The ability to soar with the eagles was
mine, most any night. I was to live, forever.
I have know the delirious intoxication, of boyish infatuation. And to such a degree, I
have tasted the bitterness of rejection.
I have lived amid nonconformists. I shared in their ideological beliefs. Old Guard be
damned.
I have witnessed the gatherings of idealists, who's main purpose was to spread
their premise of the brotherhood of man.
I have seen the chained and gagged. Beaten for their beliefs. Shot down in their
youth, by those who's superficial dogmas kept them from the truth.
I have been among the ranks of the tens of thousands, shouting my incensement's
against a failing war. And I have been to the "wall" and wept for my fallen brothers.
I have seen the rise of iconic performers. Some who would pay the ultimate price for
their notoriety. I have felt the power of their karma and reveled in their idioms'.
I have witnessed the miraculous wonder of birth. I've had the privilege to hold the
embodiment of purity, God's ultimate creation, in the hollow of my arms.
I have walked among the Angels. And I have delved into the pit of my own iniquity's.
I have loved the un-loved, and scoffed at those who would be cherished.
I have lived as if, there were no tomorrow. I have learned there is just today. I have
lived to be a better man than I was. I live to be a better man than I am.
Categories:
idealists, life
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Family Matters
There is a family nearby argues a lot fall out then makes
friends again with a glass of bubbly and an embrace.
As it is, I have fallen out with an assortment of relatives
who have stopped sending me pictures of babies which
is a relief not seeing them or their ghastly infants again
My solitude as a hole in my heart I`m Mary Celeste
a schooner found with all its trimming and hot food on
the stove but no one to ladle it out and acerbic wit falls
like an anchor chain into the sea of incomprehension,
is he making fun of us; yes, but only gently so.
I must get a dog hate walking alone I used to have one
it liked my talk demanded nothing but love it is easy to
give to a creature that gives unconditional affection
I have drowned friends on the Facebook they didn`t see
politics as shifting sand and could accept we are entering
a new era and a new explanation for our human conditions
is needed instead of the corrupted social liberals who are
idealists of a utopia, we shall not obtain.
If I had a grandson, I could take him fishing in the dry lake
he would see what I once saw go home and tell his mum,
who would shake her head and say you are turning my son
into a dreamer, one fabulist in the family is enough.
Categories:
idealists, boat, body, boyfriend, business,
Form:
Bio
Wandering along I came to a throng being addressed by a voice.
With Rhetoric so strong it did not take long to realize this voice's choice.
He spoke of our "due " and convincingly too promised to take care of us.
In my state of lack his line drew me back thinking in him I could trust.
"All you need is yours indeed , Supplied by those with more"
"So join our band and walking hand in hand utopia is ours for sure."
It sounded so good I decided I would enlist in this worthy spree.
Then all of a sudden my mind was flooded with lessons life had taught me.
If all were entitled then none would supply and soon all would have nothing all told.
We reap what we sow,
Let those idealists know, anything else is fools gold.
11/24/16
Categories:
idealists, community, political,
Form:
Rhyme
When the frustrated socialist sees that health care isn't free
He turns into a killer, claims he's saving you and me
He murders a CEO, to make a point, because he could
For the goal of perfection is the enemy of the good
He gets adulation from those who think healthcare is a right
They think profit is the devil, and he was fighting the good fight
But doctors must be paid, and nurses, drug makers too
When the government runs it all, will you kill when you can't sue?
Britain has national care, there the docs are underpaid
Patients don't get seen on time, whistleblowers are afraid
50 thousand wrong deaths each year, at least death is free
Anyone can murder, but that way lies anarchy.
Brian was a farm boy, then Valedictorian, then a CPA
Became an overpaid CEO, but isn't rising the American way?
He helped disabled kids compete, stayed a regular guy
But a rich Ivy League kid decided he must die.
When Covid came, Brian offered to distribute funds for free
Some see profit over people but doesn't seem that way to me.
It may be rad and cool to cheer, maybe they feel authentic and real
But some of us just see murder, and a wound that will fester, never heal.
There are problems with our health care, most of us agree
But if you think it's expensive now, just wait until its free
Systems that tried to replace profit, slaughtered millions, quite bizarre
I never understood how hypocritical radical leftists are.
If you come across the border, you get free care in the E.R.
Our hospitals go broke, because idealists went too far
Medicaid won't pay full costs, that causes bankruptcy too
And yes, our insurance system makes no sense, it needs a big redo.
No doctor can cure this revealed sickness in the air
Only 33 percent of youth say the killing was unfair
If you live by abstractions, you won't see wrong from right
A world that cheers on murder cannot claim the moral height.
Categories:
idealists, crazy, evil, hate, humanity,
Form:
Lyric
Without solid footing, idealism is a dream
From a position of strong sociopolitical reality
Words kill idealism without a scheme
Idealists deem the short-term triviality.
The ideal balance between man and nature
A serene scene of transcendence unfolds
Driftless area, spawning a densely green layer
An unusual utopia that captivates nave's goals!
It was alike sitting in a sumptuous Xanadu
This is the demagogue of hedonistic empiricism
His grain store once fed a ruler's thirst for Vodou
Scrutinize the soul's reality and let go of idealism.
Civility is being corrupted by darkness
And emotional neediness with no actual basis
Scary aspects of idealism have fallen into sadness
An intense wave of faith is still growing in stasis.
Self-awareness widens and shifts direction
Falling leaves prompt introspection
Knowing oneself contributes to growing faith
It pervades common care, as a cognitive wraith.
Until you ween, that hills and stone are dense
Don't misjudge the rigidity of cement slurry
You will not grasp the glories of this thence
Glass and air both put your heart in jeopardy.
People describe me as an idealist
I perceive things that don't utterly exist
I remember the positive, not the mystical
The world coexists; I am not egotistical.
It shows that there is potential for good
And that's not to mention the blatant cruelty
How we could have better withstood?
Notwithstanding, I prefer to admire the beauty.
Written: January 21, 2023
Pick-A-Title, Vol 34 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
idealists, analogy, appreciation, humanity, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
*Music or Die*
I have greatest delight in music
It carries me, permits me to live
Bringin' memory of matter and spirit
Fascinating, beyond what is classic
Playing along, sitting, on the beach
Music clears emotion, it's dramatic
Changing a world, winning all idealists
Instrumentally, leavin' me, convicted
Simply a harmony, a dream unfinished
Music 's a world, or evermore splendid
Don't know what language, but what it did
To the noble, castoffs, sonatas, unique
Music makes me dance, longer than I wish
Imparts in wisdom and thought....now I live!
Busaba Patanawiroj
1.9.2010
Categories:
idealists, artme,
Form:
"Wise souls direct their energies positively while the unwise do the opposite"
"Love focuses on "equality" while rationality tends towards judgment"
"True truth is love while true lies are based on judgment and hatred"
"All idealists are not perfectionists neither are all perfectionists idealists"
“Music is a cascading waterfall of originality that submerges the tensions of reality and rationality always singing equality”
Categories:
idealists, on writing and words
Form:
Philosphers
They chase black cat in a dark room
And box ears of invisible gloom
some say world is an illusion
To others senses deal in delusion
A few maintain that world is in a state of flux
To others it is standstill like a hill
They diagree even about source of knowledge
And refute each other in fury and rage
Some assert that we get knowledge through sense perception
Others attribute it to innate conception
There are rationalists and empiricists
Even idealists and primivists
some noisily claim that universe is Godless
Others prove His presence in every Place
Some feel world came into being with bang
Others say nothing can be known about how it sprang
Categories:
idealists, imagination, inspirational, philosophy, world,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
The idealist sees the world as moments away
From bounding into a Utopian day
And the people that steal-
Can’t truly be real-?
For what helps another- is theirs they say
And the idealists see the moon with delight,
A gem upon the goddess of night
The idealist is a happy old soul.
The realist sees the world as moments away
From reaching the pinnacle in its eternal decay
And people that steal
Are certainly real-
And must readily be punished today
And the realist sees the moon as a sight,
Of dusts and stones in the darkness of night
The realist is a stable old soul.
Idealists and realists I don’t know what I’d rather be
One soars and crashes-
The other walks purposefully
Idealists and realists I guess I’ll just let them be
For one holds the world together,
And the other sets the world’s dreams free
Categories:
idealists, peopleworld, old, people, moon,
Form:
Free verse