Best Idolized Poems
Whisper's of October
Whispers in this soup bowl
20 minutes after its muse explodes,
Daylight remains nothing more than a dream
Warding off the howling sound in mid-September's stream
Casting a line about a ginger light,
found in the depths of everything
Engaging from the sitting twilight, numb, tranquilized
Exposing and expressing the emotions found within
An attic lost in the Ancient sky ---awaits
A poetic hand is formed ---reaching out
A hissing whisper out of the darkness,
Listen-in, the echoes of October are calling
A halo, that reconciles a mysterious monarch moon
A mono grip in which summons a mysterious voice
of sweet serenity
Poets posting poems along the midnight page
Each poet can compose a poem and mimic free fallen verses,
One might call it a creative craving curse,
Webmaster's whose words speak for themselves
Voiceless-
They feel, and spills the will of idolized ink,
Blind-handed, splitting day from night
Warm whispers, needing no food to consume
Migraines of ink, feeding the soul
Burning Pages, overused pens
They've forgotten the pretty flowers
Living like lions, who never comes out of their dens
Murmuring and devouring, the enigmas of the unknown
Eyes behind a sieve, close tighter than before,
They hide nothing-
A world created from every sky-scrape the wall
Wanting to belong, a trick -or- treat*er in disguise
No friends, everything is pretend
These poets can’t be described, can't be believed
They are the best in what they do
For all you know this poet might be me,
This poet might be you
9/3/14
Categories:
idolized, addiction, character, devotion, identity,
Form:
Free verse
At awe by my mothers beautiful mind,
when it came to writing I always felt so blind.
Literature class advised us to write,
for the first time I did not feel bright.
Sneak a poem of my mothers i did,
boy did I feel like a little kid.
Praise my teacher gave me for such a lovely write,
my mind here and there like a kite.
Lucky me open house was here,
the poem posted on the class wall had me at fear.
Suggesting my parents to skip that class,
trying to avoid the coming sass.
She read it and thought to herself that it was idolized,
her eyes got big as she realized.
Quiet she kept as she knew how embarrassed I was,
of course it gave her a buzz.
It was cause of that day we look back,
and my mom gave me some slack.
She later taught me it's as simple as rhyming,
and with the emotions I have priming.
Categories:
idolized, memory, me, class, class,
Form:
Couplet
Before I scarred the page
Raging what your letters cannot invent
Let me invite you to other books
I wrote before you owed me wage
For all maladjustment and discontent
Tettering on tentacles on hooks
Invite you to an open age
Of change and discourse transfigurment.
In a quiet moment read again
Shards of clay and artefacts beyond
A material functional disdain.
Look at the words like old bones
Bringing chromosomal tablets to rinse
The eyes of prejudices and conceit
You may wince
At what your arrogance did delete.
I have winced for years in broken jars
Unleashing rivulets of tears
For I gave you humanity as a gift, stars
Gave you dust and vessel for it
Time etched your abuse against this spirit
As you idolized barren observations
As if them alone could tell truths
Without the presence of experience.
Strange how you so prone to the material
Destroyed so much of its substance
In us. Yet it is inescapbale in the footprints of dust
The chromosomal bridges in our bodies
Linking us, reaffirming the gift again
Documents on my body like a stain
Irreducible by Mercator's illusions
There is no survival without the spiritual.
After protests, marches, firehoses and ropes
Still hanging from leftover branches of fear
I have earned the right to forgive you
The inherent gift make me your brother, here.
So now let us turn the map upside down
And draw again the latitudes unbending
In a straight line to your old thoughts,
Can we agree about the silence of the moon
Is a prohibiting noise in our head, a blind despair.
Categories:
idolized, philosophyme, old, me, old,
Form:
Free verse
You wrap my name
In syllables of love
Passion tinged sound units
Caressed by the beauty of your voice
you leave me no choice
but to yield....
breathed into my ear
you release
letter sojourners to travel
down the curve of my neck
to a cadence that captivates
and my heart capitulates
When you say my name....
When you say my name
saturated in n~e~e~d
wanting to be freed....
you make the appeal
wanting healing...immediate...real
your testosterone tempered tonality
temptingly deep...
it sets in motion
Resonance reverberations
that rock ecstasy's epicenter...
my name comes again
riding your waves of want...
it comes
in the full knowledge
that my release of liquid love
will welcome you in
to the inner sanctum sanctuary
where your body is idolized
and your name chanted...immortalized
in the rhythm and rhyme
of passion sublime
When you say my name...
When you say my name
you evoke the spirit of eternity
to dance the dance of life
weaving through and around
two simple syllables
of romantic antics
dancing and swaying
your voice calming playing
the trace of romance
leaving nothing to chance
when you say my name....
when YOU say...MY...N*A*M*E*
Eileen
Categories:
idolized,
Form:
Free verse
Stars were twinkling high, glinting moonlit sky,
As missives of love on scarlet winds buoyed
Indulging passionate desires, enamoring pleas
Of elated longings, strumming pulse of glee,
Spurring romance, blooming heart’s dream,
As you arrived cheering fervid night of spring.
Oh, how I missed a beat, lauding your beauty,
When you enticed me, smiling affectionately,
Alluring with a glance that dazzled in promise
Of our magical evening enchanting, esoteric,
As together we propelled to world of fantasy
Beyond realm ordinary, scripting fabled story.
Alas! as we approached a paradise heavenly,
How playfully you blew a kiss, abandoning me,
On auriferous cul-de-sac of forbidden street
When you entered a glittering palace for fairies;
Leaving me in awe of a world ornate, unique,
A land of mythical vitality, of utopian ecstasy.
Beyond hope, beyond reach, as you vanished,
No path I could see past the forbidden street,
Trapping me where I idolized your heartbeats;
Perplexed, yet cognizant, here I would rather be,
Hypnotized in your reality of a flirtatious night,
Exploring reveries beyond cul-de-sac of my life.
February 21, 2023
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
idolized, dream, fantasy,
Form:
Verse
There is a story that needs to be told
A grown-up child now holds the secret in
The raw emotion trapped releases bold
Dreams that haunt in midnight's tangled den
Way back he was idolized, her anger blocked
Pushed down on the spot but arose at night
Where demons chased and the small child mocked
In dreams she would run and jump with all her might
He said 'twas you who came out tempting me
Told her to stay you can't come to the pasture
Her anger boiled beneath the surface free
The dreams began totally to be her master
What he did when she was seven years old
Rest in the grave with him and remains untold
Categories:
idolized, abuse,
Form:
Sonnet
Royal Matriarch
Beloved, cherished, idolized
Who could this person be?
A pop star or the president?
A hot celebrity?
Not even close, ten cuts above
A modest hero reigns
A selfless woman, strong and bold
A beauty with the brains
This person is no other than
The royal matriarch
The solid rock beneath our feet
Our night light in the dark
A shoulder for our heavy hearts
An ear to catch our plight
The silver lining through it all
Our wings when we take flight
Happy Mother’s Day to you
My mother, my dear friend
If words relayed my gratitude
My book would never end…
1st place!
Contest: "A Mother's Love, Tributes of Love for Mother's Day" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: BJ Legros Kelley
Date: 04-26-2022
Categories:
idolized, appreciation, beauty, daughter, for
Form:
Rhyme
See this girl in the painting, this skinny girl
working on a puzzle at the bottom of the stairs.
With big rimmed glasses and her plain brown hair,
she’s an ordinary girl, with nothing seeming special.
Now see this girl. . . really SEE this girl.
At age 12, she’s just been fitted with new glasses -
They are black horn-rimmed - an utter disappointment
in the life of a young girl.
Some guys now call her four-eyes, and they don’t even notice
the beauty of her light green eyes and
long lush lashes behind those big-framed glasses.
But still she likes to fantasize, and in her dreams
she’s idolized by every boy she likes.
Always having wanted to be part of the “in” crowd,
she was a girl that struggled for popularity.
However, she’s been learning of another way to be!
Seeking out girls more like her, she hardly has to try
to fit in with her new friends. And now she’s much less shy.
With fun new friends, she is witty. She makes them laugh.
She’s even feeling pretty, wearing lipstick frosty pink.
She’s discovered she is smart in all her classes.
This girl who now is wearing black rimmed glasses!
She gets into the Glee Club, even sings on PBS!
With her athleticism, she also has success.
She makes Top Twelve in tryouts for cheerleading.
And though the student body does not vote her through,
she’ll soon get over it. She’s blossoming!
The glasses she will change for contact lenses,
and she does not know it yet,
but soon enough - a number of boyfriends she will get!
Also years of dance lessons and being in recitals
has boosted her self confidence.
Both her body and her spirit are transforming!
See the girl in the painting; a puzzle she assembles.
She does not know that one day
her mind will be on puzzles of a very different kind:
She will be assembling many words inside her mind,
and she will be partaking in an art called poetry.
I know all this because
the girl inside that painting - that ordinary girl -
is the one I used to be.
Based on the painting "Assembling the Pieces"
from Contemporary Figurative Artiste Stephanie Deshpande
for the Contemporary Free Rhyme Contest of Cyndi MacMillan
I hope you will see the painting at this link. When I saw the girl, I was
struck by how much it looked like me as a young girl: http://www.stephaniedeshpande.com/porfolio/
Categories:
idolized, character,
Form:
Free verse
My eyes are veiled
No hint of wild seduction
No hungry look of passion
No gleam of admiration
No twinkle of satisfaction
My eyes are veiled
Nothing from my soul passes through
The curtains of this window are drawn
I peek through unseeing
Colorblind to the hues
Selective of the view
I peek unseeing
My eyes refuse to betray me
Veiled by wet black lashes
That dam my tears
The salt of surfaced fears
My eyes are veiled
I will not unveil
Not my eyes
Not my dress
Impervious to caress
Burka bondaged am I
Passion urges, I deny
My eyes are veiled…
My lashes will part
Eyes revealing my heart
My soul will lay bare
Exposed without care
For the one
Whose love is true
Tell me,
is that someone...
You?
Eileen Manassian
A word of caution: The beauty of poetry is that there is inherent mystery in it. That's why we ask our students this question: "What do you THINK the author meant?" Do we ever truly know? If we did...there wouldn't be so many books written by authors trying to decipher Shakespeare's mind...trying to determine who the mistress was that he wrote about...who was the young youth that he idolized. Did he have homosexual tendencies? If we were to know all of this...he poems would lose that sense of wonder. Let the mystery remain mysterious...
Categories:
idolized, love hurts,
Form:
A Star Adrift
In the quiet of a shadowed room,
A man sat still, wrapped in gloom.
His hands were clenched, his shoulders low,
A heart weighed down by life’s cruel blows.
Fear lived in him, a constant chain,
A phantom’s whisper, a steady pain.
He reached for hands, for aid, for light,
But found no rescue in the night.
“Why,” he asked, “do I give my care,
To faces that vanish when I’m laid bare?”
The answers never came, just the weight,
Of promises broken, of endless fate.
The days stretched long, the nights grew cold,
And still, he carried a story untold.
Each laugh he tried was hollow, bare,
Each tear turned stone, too heavy to share.
Anger stirred, a quiet flame,
Its embers called him, whispered blame.
“Let us guide, let us consume,
Burn what binds and end the gloom.”
Yet even rage could not suffice,
To thaw the man now turned to ice.
He hated himself for feeling this way,
For losing the man he’d dreamed to portray.
He loved his children, their laughter’s tune,
A fleeting warmth beneath the moon.
He loved a friend, whose steady hand,
Anchored him in shifting sand.
He loved his family, though love ran cold,
A thread worn thin, frayed and old.
An ocean stood between his cries,
And the people he’d once idolized.
He turned to love, but love turned sharp,
A mirror reflecting every scar.
“Stay silent, stay small,” they’d say,
“Don’t stir the storm; drift away.”
And so, he did, though his heart would scream,
A muted echo of a broken dream.
He gave, he served, he stood, he stayed,
But found no shelter, no debts repaid.
A wandering star, he drifted far,
Through endless nights, a fading star.
Yet even stone will bear a crack,
Even storms can find their track.
In quiet despair, he dared to dream,
To let his light through darkness gleam.
The man who wandered found his way,
A name reborn, a soul unfrayed.
Categories:
idolized, abuse, adventure, anger, care,
Form:
Free verse
Sandra believed in Snow White, and Rapunzel, and Sleeping Beauty.
She waited for her prince for sixty years or more; men came along, but they never met her criteria.
They could not.
Although three really tried.
Not handsome enough.
Not powerful enough.
Did not have a horse.
Sandra spent her lifetime, dreaming of her prince.
She pictured him in her mind when young, and she danced with him, in her mind.
She lived her whole life, in her mind.
When she got older, her relatives gave up.
They had tried to help Sandra empower herself,
But her Cinderella Complex always won out in the end.
She wanted to be idolized,
Revered, admired, petted,
But mostly saved.
She died alone,
The one thing
She had not
Planned
In her
Happily-ever-after.
Categories:
idolized, satire, woman,
Form:
Free verse
Sir Leonard Hutton famous for cricket
Idolized him yet we played in the snicket
His bat willow three springs and all
Ours a joke no umpire to call
Yet did dream of 'Lords' having took a wicket.
© Harry J Horsman 2015
Categories:
idolized, fun,
Form:
Limerick
When I was young, I fantasized of the girl I’d like to find:
A certain look, a sense of style, enlightened education,
Alluring eyes, a charming smile, and some sophistication.
But over time I realized she was only in my mind.
Lonely years passed, I compromised, and left my dream behind.
Met some with looks, others with style—even sophistication.
But I never could find, through error and trial, just the right combination.
Just existing, I felt demoralized, in a sorry state of mind.
One day by chance, I met this girl…sort of what I had in mind.
The way she looked, I realized, just fit my illustration—
As if the dream I’d idolized was brought into creation.
What could I say, to meet the girl that I’d always hoped to find?
Pardon the clichés, but I have to say
“Where have you been all my life?”
I know we’ve just met, and you don’t know me yet,
But what are you doing the rest of your life?
She rolled her eyes, but then she smiled, as she seemed to see the light.
We talked a while, then talked some more; got her address and her phone.
Since then I’ve seen her a whole lot more. I no longer felt alone.
When I proposed, she said with a smile “I think I’ve found my ‘Mister Right’ .
Pardon the clichés, but I have to say
“Where have you been all my life?”
I know we’ve just met, and you don’t know me yet,
But what are you doing the rest of your life?
Categories:
idolized, confusion, first love, loneliness,
Form:
Lyric
"What He Turned Out to Be"
He who was a head banger
Idolized man a with too much make up on
And danced around a room cram packed with decibels
Playing one of many lavish air guitars there was an infinite supply of them
Maybe he was that person, as he saw himself in a poster
Some suspect any other influence would've been better
Instead choosing to fall under the power of notes
Succumbing to the concerts and the chaos
There are clusters of bodies bouncing by the thousands
Music made him dive headlong into waters of similar people
Harmonious spells they are, encouraging joyous times of irresponsibility
Rocking to his rhythmic beat and the life style of rock star entertainment
A man center stage feels his own groove
He himself swaying to the thumping and bumping
The entertainer know his songs all too well
And the head banger asks for more late into the night
How can the man on stage deny?
Calls for certain songs are indulged
The event must end sometime
A reminder most fans matter not so much, their loyal doth fade
But forget this one not, as the man who is a groupie
Categories:
idolized, devotion,
Form:
Verse
crumpled scriptures, idolized whores, broken down doors, decayed floors;
it is doubtful Jesus planned on this when he bought Moses ten commandments from the local convenient store
no, I believe he wanted something more
but the Devil said, "To Hell with it, burn it to the core"
as he sent his evil regime to ruin the American dream..
now we’re left asking, “Where are you, Lord?”
meteors dropping towards us like pop-stars keeling over, no luck found; leprechauns must have grabbed all the four leaf clovers
chased the rainbow in a trance pace 'till there was no more rainbow to chase
and just like chasing the dragon I will somberly stumble while dragging on ‘till even the dragon itself is gone and in the end..
no improvement was made, just burning away in hot flames even with the earth’s surface for shade..
COMMENTS AND THOUGHTS ARE MORE THAN WELCOME, THANKS!
Categories:
idolized, imagery, religious, simile,
Form:
Free verse