Best Imaginationday Poems
The time of day to power a poet's fancy
Is that delay between the day and night
When rosy glows streak in the west horizon;
That lovely interlude we call twilight.
Somewhere between the daylight and the darkness,
The remnants of the sun still hanging there,
The twilight chases burdens of the daytime,
And gives us sweet respite from daily care
This mystic time the poets call the gloaming,
A lingering salute to end of day,
Comes long enough to usher in the nighttime
And welcome in the moon and star display.
This half-light often brings quixotic dreaming,
Lulling noisy birds to join the quietude.
A gift from God for those of lonely spirit,
Bestowed on them to bless their solitude.
STILL NOT DEAD ( no kids allowed 2 read)
This morning I took my med.
taking more than my dose.
I am still here thrown in bed,
Lifeless and nobody knows.
I am still alive I am still not dead
I don't think I succeeded my overdose.
Should have cut my vain instead,
or stuck a whole ounce my nose.
To scared to put a gun to my head,
that would have been very gross.
Couldn't even stand it if I bled,
Stupid, me now I find a hose down my nose.
Still not dead,
Regret the day you propose.
The day I said "I DO" I dread
The feelings that came, I let nobody know.
Thinking of ways of dying instead,
holding my breath is all I show.
All this started on the day of our wed,
imagination took over making my mind blow.
Finding my self here still not dead,
Who said suicide is easier than a DIVORCE !!
i.t.
S.K.A.T. POETRY
=( Not a fact, just humor over my marriage! )=
Oh what a dreadful day would it be,
to know that i had only one day to live.
What will i do? i think,
just one day to say and do,
just one day to ask and forgive.
Would i go to the ones i hurt..?
for love and forgiveness.
It would lighten my burden to death,
as going to hell is not my business.
Or would i be with the ones i love...?
to gather all their love in my heart.
Yes! i'll gather all the memories,
but wait.....won't it be difficult for me to depart?
Will i spend time in helping the needy...?
as my whole life i wanted to,
and to give them all that i can,
at least to listen a last "thankyou"
Will i dance in the rain for the last time?
will i swing just for the last time?
will i dance on my favorite song at least once?
or will i eat my favorite chocolate the last time?
Will i meet my friends who made my world a better place?
or meet my lovely teachers who gave my career a fine base?
Will i sleep on my mothers lap for the last time?
or fight with my sister for all that was mine?
Will i fight with my dad for a ride on his bike?
or would i eat all that i like?
Will i cuddle with my puppy for last time sake
or meet my collegues to have all the fun we used to make
Will i tell my husband how much i love him?
or tell him that my heart was governed by his whim.
(pause for a while)
No, instead i would pray,
pray to god yet for another day.
Dear lord spare my life a day more,
there are things that i still need to explore.
The 31st day of the 10th month
How many of you have a hunch?
It is quite an odd day for young and old
However truth may be told
The children play throughout the day
Then by night give quite a fright
In these costumes dark and light
Only seen by serene moonlight…
On a warm summer's day a little girl sits among the dandeloins
counting how many she holds in her small hands 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
she giggles to herself as she sniffs each and everyone.
After sniffing them carefully she giggles again and wonders if
they would be able to talk to her.
As she looks down at them she asks them this: 'What is it you all
do all day?'
To her surprise they answer her and says this: "Why, we all sit
quietly waiting for the noon day suns."
Giggling, again and wanting to know more she asks this: 'Than what is it
you all do in the night time?'
They answered and said this: "Why we wait here for the cool nights dew
to fall on us."
Again, she is filled with questions and again asks this: 'Why do you wait for
night's dew?'
They answered and said this: "Well, we wait for morning so that we can be
scooped up by you, than you can blow our fuzzy milky white hairs in the wind.
Oh, she replies she asks this: 'Why does your yellow and gold hairs turn milky
white like cotton balls?'
They replied back: " It turns milky white like cotton so when we are picked by
children like you, you blow our hairs into the wind so it can carry our seeds
and our seeds grow all over again.
Billowing tufts of blue and green
create my peaceful place.
I think my heart has seldom seen
such happiness and grace.
The sky's lit with an amber hue
that guides me on my way.
I trip the light fantastic through
this joyful sunny day.
I'll take a walk into the park.
Or maybe I'll take flight
in a hot air balloon till dark
has glazed the day to night.
Perhaps I'll get a bite to eat
and look up some old friends.
It could be my bed will I greet
as this pleasant day ends.
written July 22,2011
for contest....Happiness is a Balloon
by Deb Wilson
My words levitate each time I talk.
I am just a star hidden in the dark.
Mind and soul is getting rip apart.
Cause in my mind I am free.
But in my soul I am the last of a dieing breathe.
So am I doom to live a life of eternal misery.
Wondering if I die will anybody remember me.
Or is this just a bad dream.
Words are addicted and yes I am a fiend.
If my life was a movie hell will be my scene.
But right now my mind is in heaven, yet my soul is still stuck in between.
My shadow is the only one that stand by me.
Each night I am feeling the heat but the light I have yet to see.
A normal life was never meant for me.
So each night I struggle to break free.
Maybe one day my mind and soul will be at peace.
I know that day will come but only when I am decease.
Right now the devil is just having a feast.
God why is my soul bond to this lease.
Mind and soul separated because my mind is bond to the street.
Yet each night my soul is still hoping for peace.
Maybe one day I will get use to this heat.
So each night my mind stay in the stars :smokes: as this pain increase.
Witness protection is not a choice for me.
Because I know when I die is the only time that I will be free.
I happened upon a sight
that made me happy
a field of peace
growing several inches a day
the field was surrounded
by men and women
of all nations
the the field was so beautiful
that it inspired me to plant a field of hope
I took some grains of peace
1 part past, present, and future
and planted it with love
every day it grows a little more
and one day I'm sure peace and hope
will blend together quite nicely
This poem is Dada
a poem that makes no sense
Form:
Here I sat alone way before noon flying through P.S. with nothing to do
came up with a few lines to jot down a few notes and yes as poor as they may be there mine
whats in a day when ones alone with so much to say.
how could it be today is the day as so many lay sleeping come what may.
a kiss good night as you fell asleep as your head sunk into the pillow taking a dreamers leap.
as mornings mist kiss this day alone I sit with just words to say/
as a boy to a girl a man to his wife a lover to a lady and the way you look tonight.
a letter to you from me words that ramble on as far as the eye can see.
as I stole a kiss from the one that is you my heart still melts every time I do.
to sit here in this body with what little I know a look a smile a man with a soul
I once took a walk to find the one that is me hours later I returned and I was set free.
in rain in snow night or day winter and summer holding your hand is the greatest wounder.
I was just board wanted some thing to write
I cam up with this...mud slid I call this mornings life.
Form:
The only thing that's really
bad for me
and detrimental to my health
Is this violent thing inside of me
the vile poison that is myself.
I'm what keeps me up at night
I'm what goes and gets me high.
Leave the real world so far below
as I'm flying through the sky
No regard for responsibility
as I leave reality.
Thoughtless, wreckless,
careless me.
I'm the only thing, that's standing in my way.
I'm what's stopping me
from every opportunity.
This toxic thing inside my mind
there's nothing it wants,
that it won't find.
A self destructive consumer of all
I climb my highest
so the further I may fall.
It's not just the high I want
but crash as well.
cause I've never felt as alive
as I did the day I fell.
With fear my friend
and torture my lover.
I want them both
not one or the other.
Never satisfied
I always want one more
as desire
comes knocking,
at my door.
Everything that's bad for me
is all I really want to do
Let's do a line
of any kind
Indulgence in this it is my glue.
Giving in
to all things sin.
Is the only thing I have
To fill this hole
that's never full
has taken all I had.
I watch myself spiral down
while laughter is,
the only sound.
Not a thing to learn
so I take an extra turn
and love it as I burn.
Why does my favorite thing
have to be
that I feel amazing
when I bleed.
Will it catch me
or will I stay ahead?
Will I have family
or be alone
on the day I'm dead?
I will surely be the one
who brings about my end.
Even though I'm bad for me.
I'm still my favorite friend.
R elaxing
a nother day of not getting the yard mowed
i nviting unwanted critters in my already soaked garden
n ever a dry day in washington
Imagination
( you are never too young or too old to put your imagination to use)
Imagine the concert
The concert did not cost a dime
But every soul was there- from the beginning of time .
It was the biggest concert the heavens had ever seen.
The greatest dancers and singers that were ever known.
On the largest television screen it was shown.
You had the crooners, the swooners,
the rockers, the boppers, and the opera singers
All gathered together for one big show.
In heaven- this is the way to go.
It started off with the “tappers” coming on to the stage
All well known in the archives of fame.
First Bill “Bo jangles” Robinson with Fred Astaire in back .
Then Jean Kelly. Ginger Rodgers,
and Gregory Hines picking up the slack.
Then came the female singers who were all
In the hall of fame, and all well known by their names.
Billie holiday , Lena Horne , Doris Day and Peggy Lee
Judy Garland and Dinah Shore-and lets not forget
The Andrew Sisters- who gave us so much more.
Then out came the male singers who touched the
Hearts of women all around the world
And made all their hair stand up and curl.
Mario Lanza , Frank Sinatra, Perry Como, Dean Martin
Just to name a few, then let us not forget the soul singers
Otis Redding ,Sam Cooke, and Nat “king” Cole
Then Marvin Gaye who really put on a show.
OH ! This concert was a wonder to behold !
And the greatest one was yet to unfold.
Everyone waited in anticipation
As the angels blew their trumpets
And the harps let out the most beautiful melody.
For behind that big curtain
Walked out our all Mighty King.
All knees bent ,and all heads bowed
You couldn’t hear a pin drop
Not a single solitary sound.
He gave the heavens his blessings
As every face lit with delight
And all the way to earth
You could see this glaring light.
This is the concert- that one day we may all see
If we follow his words, and help to save all humanity.
Heaven-like Giving
Today is a day of joy.
Santa shops for girls and boys,
Finding the most perfect toy.
Many elves are overworked.
Toiling yearlong while time lurked.
Hearing dreams with all ears perked.
Sewing clothes and making clocks,
Magic flowers, building blocks.
All the while, the time tick tocks.
Computer towers, name brand.
Some instruments for the band…
Karaoke, try your hand.
Many shoes and mini-toys,
Books about ‘Helen of Troy”
Working elves creating joy.
Day in, day out there's no frown.
Cars and toys are pushed around.
They make sure all flaws are found.
Music that is heaven bound.
Socks have fun sliding around.
Magic sights would all astound.
His lists are long. No, not small.
Many gifts he'll have to haul.
How will his elves make them all?
It's too late to hire more.
Fill this list? He'll need a score!
Solution. Shop at the store!!!
“Merry Christmas!” Rang his sound.
Buy some gifts; help elves rebound.
Heaven-like giving, love crowned.
A Merry Christmas to Ya’ll (Southern Smiles)
God's good will upon you fall
Recall heaven's way. Love all.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
November 27, 2009
The spring day was gorgeous so I had to go outside.
Engaging the day, I took my sewing basket and elderberry wine.
Down a path to the orchard I wound to a statuary bench as old as time.
As I was trying to sew I had trouble with a needle I was trying to thread…
When there to my rescue came an elderly fairy all dressed in red.
Now don’t be surprised… we’ve met to sew a time or two.
And yes, like all mothers we talked about our children and what was new.
That day her teenagers were revolting like wild things again…
One wanted to go live in the bouquets on a famous cruise line.
Another thought she’d travel to Hawaii to spend the rest of her life.
A son thought he’d green up the desserts so he could stop all the fights.
The twins’ thought with global warming they’d make Alaska a garden by fall.
And another was studying petroleum so he could blast off to the stars.
But their mother knew none of their plans would ever come to be…
She just needed a break to relax for a little while, you see.
So understanding totally the plight that she was in…
I handed her a thimble filled with wine close to the brim…
The sunshine was gorgeous, we both agreed, as in repose we sipped daintily.
Tomorrow we’ll again meet there for another hour or so.
Next time it’ll be my turn for family stories to make our hearts laugh and glow…
Undoubtedly, life is great with others to share with and to sew…
Form:
Summer comes all clothed in green,
To paint the path of a passing scene.
Wheat in the field bound in sheaves,
Shares the glory of gold tipped leaves.
Gossamer drops of morning dew,
Lie on a bed of radiant blue;
And clusters that hang on wandering vines,
Brings juice that gives sweet scented wines.
The midnight owl takes her rest,
Hidden in the tree in a secret nest;
And raucous rooks in ferny nooks,
Take in the scene with cautious looks.
The hawk that flies under sapphire skies,
Stretches her wing till daylight dies;
Poised in flight, her arabesques,
Soaring, dipping, seem so effortless.
Prisms of sunbeams shimmer with gold,
To capture the warmth till day grows old;
Erasing the shadows that go at noon,
As day wastes away, all too soon.