Best In(P) Poems


Premium Member Celestial Choreography

As the glistening jewels 
         of snow cascade like 
ballerinas pirouetting 
      to the crescendo of time, 
choreographed from porcelain 
      keys of your h e a r t,
delicate fingers of the 
      winter moon stretch,
enveloping forlorn footprints 
      of poignant memories, 
framed with petal-like poems 
      you've placed in the 
gallery of my melancholic mind 
     where soulless shadows still~
haunt me in holographic 
     hues through somber nights, but
If I were to rewrite the anatomy 
     of this romance with~
juxtapositions, should I rescript 
    your promises in p s y c h e d e l i c ink? 
knit silken sonnets from the 
    tapestry of scintillating 
           stars in our favour, 
letting go of all the 
         seasonal silhouettes
    that seized redolent rhymes, 
maybe, it is from pain 
    we relearn to dream 
    in periwinkle pigments to
nurture and navigate through 
    decayed gardens embalmed in 
opalescent tears and fluorescent fears 
             suppressed and 
personified within gossamer
     tales of sunflower s i l e n c e…
Quilted with questions that your 
     quintessential quill can~
reveal, in romanticised verses, to wade 
     through the abstracts of weary woes. 

So, set your stones to 
      architect cobalt grey lanes, 
to usher feathered thoughts into the 
      serenity of your scented sanctuary. 
until I find the perfect gateway 
      adorned with crystals in the 
verdant valleys, engrossed in vanilla flakes, 
where cosmic yearnings are embroidered 
   between mauve instruments
                    harmonised from 
xylophone whispers reverberating
             in vermilion s t i l l n e s s…

    You will always be the 
            clementine crown of my sun,
              the scarlet scrapes in my ink, 
zested in zealous dahlias 
     and no rain can drown 
                  this celestial 
                         c o l l a b o r a t i o n…..

Premium Member Hope

H   O    P    E




                                     Hope brings complete trust
                  H            conquering all fears and doubts,                H                   
            O        H    Full assurance in fulfillment of dreams     H        O 
         P                where at lonely hearts, great joy sets in.                P                                                                                                            
          E                                                                                          E
         H              Hope starts always from patience to kindness           H                
            O           bringing endurance to work that’ll progress,            O                       
                P          Good actions with determination at zest,             P
                  E   H    are anchored by faith in fervor devotions    H   E
                              In pursuit of life’s goals or intentions.

                                      Hope comes from our God-
                                        God of Hope full of love,
                                              He lives forever
                                                   and ever;
                                                      Hope
                                                        Is 
                                                       Life
                                        promised by the Father,
                                 While there is life, there is Hope -
              Hope to look forward for heavenly trophies from our Lord
          HE will grant today, tomorrow and everywhere, here and abroad.

                                                  
 
.
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.

The Poetry Police Have Been Called! Look Out For P.D!!!

I’m trying a new refreshing write
My blessed  Soul word out of sight 
Maybe my view should truly change
Having a good look at new poetic range

I don’t want to upset the infamous P.D.**
The one who’ll  police me in 3D
Undercover poet, that apparently is not?
If I reach for my pen, he’ll take his shot!

On the run with out my needed soul
I better hide in that deep dark hole.
As he Ass kisses all those lovely ladies
Maybe he wants to have their babies??

Taking advantage of his poetic power ;-)
I bet in reality he’s as sweet as a flower!
What horrid word’s I use without my belief 
If I get caught, he may smash out my teeth!

A poet on the run from a cop so hot?
In P.Ds eyes, a poet, that I am not??
To be or not to be, that is his question?
Fountain Pen to my head, I’ll sign his confession!

Banged up in this inspirational cell
“Not a poet” written on walls of limerick hell
“P.D waz here “ plastered for all to see
As soon as he reaches for his pen, you better turn and flee!!

(Welcome and embrace our new Poet friend
I’ll love and embrace him until the end
I trust he’ll visit my poems, and call them crap
That’s my plan, body armoured up, ........I’ll just have a nap.)

**Poetry Destroyer 

Only Kidding P.D. And welcome :-)

Obviously, i can't tell you what form this is!!


Premium Member Time 4 Some Honesty (About P D & Me)

It's time for some honesty about P D & Me.
I think I've taken this as far as can possibly be.
BILLYtheKidster, aka me
and the Poet Destroyer, aka P D
are both two separate individual personalities
NOT of me.
Separately!
BILLYtheKidster is all me
and Poet Destroyer, aka P D is 100% P D He/P D She.
Poet Destroyer Is Not Me.
It was fun however basking in P D's glory,
however so briefly.
Thank you P D.
theKidster, Wild Billy

Well I guess that ends this little mystery
(but then again, I may still be screwing with all of you psychologically)
We shall see?

Inspired by Francesco Gioli's Acquaiola

balance can be found in the offset
the heavy water jug your posture tilts for
      a mirror of the landscape
  sparse, endless, lonely

distant from the body
      swept up and onwards by the wind 

     all held together, poised
                hoping that's what saves you -
when you want, need, fear your knees will buckle
       everything to smash 
for  it  all  to  lay   in   p  i  e  c  e   s

where you decide you'll pick none of it up

never carry that weight again
never return to the place it all 
                                                      f
                                                      e
                                                     l 
                                                       l     
                                
    never look upon that ground
never feel so tightly held in place again
    so tightly bound
              as a means of survival

      just collapse
         and lay still a while
       feel the same wind, now as a breeze 
               feel what you held together ~ unbind 

       spin on the spot
           let your clothing flare
      take up space 

release.
every.
pent.
up.
emotion. 
that.
you.
thought.
needed.
holding.
in.

scream
    dance
    run
        sing

be free from balancing the offset
          free from the trek

roll down the hills laughing
smile whilst you
       cry-the-whole-thing-out

               let it go

stand unburdened 
don't carry it any further
you can let it go

Premium Member - How I See You Dan -

Once upon a time ....
A little boy was born
He cried when he was born
as most babies do
It was a nice little boy
named Dan

He was born into an ordinary family
Mother, father, siblings, grandma and grandpa
Soft blankets and a crib to sleep in
Unfortunately, not always real life as an adventure
Family life was not a bed of roses

The boy Dan got a new mother and father
A hard time for a young boy
Feelings of betrayal and loneliness
But he got much love of his new family
As the years went by he accepted his life

His teenage years, I will not say much about
Dan was like most young people
Most often kind and helpful
but also a little naughty as boys are
Looked after the girls and went happily to a party

At the end of his life as a teenage he had a special
eye for a pretty girl, who later became his faithful wife.
They were so young both of them, but their hearts had decided.
One day they gave each other: "YES, I WILL"

November 2011 I met Dan
Yes, I met him here in P-Soup
He was one of my first friends here
Always a smile, nice and caring
I was looking forward to his word


We have become "f.e.f." - Forever friends!
Dan is a man who allows himself to be sensitive
Yes, he can even cry
Thoughtful, afraid of hurting others' feelings
He likes a little flirt .... but loves his wife

Dan and I traveled together to the "Land of Happiness"
in the words of the poem, rhyme of course
Dan is the expert on the rhyming (I'm hopeless)
A poem from Dan to me, hanging on my wall with ribbon on

If I mention the word: Pizza .... I think it is more
than me who knows it, he LOVES pizza!!
However, he HATES to shovel snow
Dogs are man's best friend, just ask Dan
Have a beer and a weekend trip with the guys
  is also something he appreciated

Dan you are good as gold and it is not bull****
I love you as my dear friend
Wishing you all the best
A big hug from me to you: "f.e.f." !!





01.10.2013
A-L  Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved


                                                      



Sponsor:Dan Kearley
Contest Name :"Who Am I"

(1st place in the contest)


Nature the Destroyer

the sea rolled away
the little girl wonders if 
it went down a drain

her mother screams "Run!"
as a tsunami erupts -
sand castle trampled


3/11/12
Received 7th place in P.D's "Nature the Destroyer" contest
Susan Burch

Premium Member It's An Oxymoronic World

I took my kids to the Country "Fair"
Where every price sure was not
Like five dollars for a cup of coke
Seven to ride the tea pot!

My young son fell off the pony ride
So drove off to "Urgent" Care
We spent so long in the waiting room
My mail was delivered there!

This morning went shopping at "Whole" Foods
For our weekly food need list
I couldn't buy a whole cart of food
Sure meat will never be missed.

Then I left to see my relatives
On the "Turn"pike in P-A
I missed my exit and you know what
You can't turn around, no way!!!

This sad oxymoronic nightmare
Happens more often than not
Go to Dollar Store with just a buck
Nothing will cost what you've got!

8/27/2016

Premium Member -Share A Little Of You

I would really like to know more about you
If you are comfortable to share
An idiosyncrasy ,event, a talent , pipe dream
A fact about you …. you are happy to declare

Perhaps we will learn more about each other
Maybe connect with someone new
Or just be surprised, impressed or have a laugh
When we simply share a little of  ‘me and you’

So, here is something about me
If you do share it does not have to be three~ 

~My dream since l was a little girl was to be a singer
   but l cannot hold a note!

~ l once walked through a busy shopping centre in Singapore
    with a long white tail hanging out the back of my jeans
    “Yes”….a very long piece of toilet paper!!! When l got back
    to my sister she told me and pulled it off …. we 
    were in hysterics!

~l have lived in five countries as an adult


I hope someone in P.S Land is happy to share 
Or maybe this is a silly idea
Will be interesting to see if any response
If nothing ….this poem will disappear!! Haha

Debx
© Deb M  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Limerick Crochetes: Once Mideast Refugee Hijacked Plane

Limerick crochetés: Once Mid-East refugee hi-jacked plane
Once Mid-East refugee hijacked plane 
At Heathrow Airport without much pain
Set course for Florida
Down Gulf Stream danced salsa
O’er Bermuda Triangle lost brain

Raised head in parallel universe
Where everybody spoke only in verse
Shakespeare just a mere page
At beck and call of Sage
Who rode on a flying-trapeze hearse

Walt Whitman why whipped hard ten times tight
For turning fine-tuned verse e’er so slight
Beat poets all sweat caned
Their howls and growls un-maned 
Ginsberg last seen dropping out of sight

Harriet Monroe drowned in P-Soup
To lay P-Foundation nin.com poop
Rhyme and dine for a dime
At Multi-Verse win prime
Refugees now cross Atlantic in sloop

At P-Soup Port they re-fuel with port
Learn how to parse clichés sans rapport
Great poems like Hardy’s
Drivel from their panties
“America” refugees sing out!
           © T. Wignesan – Paris, 2018
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

P Town

time was I'd hang around
in P town
tune in turn on and party down-
in P town
far out cats on purple haze
white lab rats lost in the maze
yeah,them was the good ol'daze
in P town*



(*portsmouth)

Veiw

How in the hell can I be so blind
Knowing what it is in the back of my mind
Or Atleast familiar with the design
I see my side
Yet u won't admitt urs 
So I'm wrong 
For what
Wanting to adored
Some love from my amour
A lil hello, u alive, how u doin, r u fine?
A lil msg once in a while showing how I'm on ur mind
Nah
Non of that
But I'm wrong for saying wtf to that
Right.....jack
It's about to be fathers day where u at?
In P A 
Outa state
Fine uff it see ur folks scratch all the other crap
It don't matter I know
Uff. All that
U don't see what u do becuz its about u
Fine.......I'm Still here waiting of course I'm a hopeless romantic what else can I do
Just pray harder n stay true
To u
........Peace

Premium Member Soup Mail Verification

verification to send soup mail is a pain in the tush ~ forsooth

counting fire hydrants, busses, bridges and bikes ~ no one in P S likes
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

The Village *****

The Village *****

in the sunlit morning I awoke to enter the village
 a vast amount of seagulls flocked overhead
 yet my soul permeates through the duration of the walk
 an officer was assigned to watch the Lone Blue Lagoon a gay club
 as I entered i melted in my seat there were men around me swarming me like a bee
 a sip of wine and everything was so very fine
 a whole host of finger foods were on a table
 it was many years ago let the truth be told

 all the way in P Town that a fare lad named Luigi had come out of the closet
 although those many years would pass I still had every reason to grasp 
 the notion of a whisper while passing gas
 Luigi today is known as the village *****
 a Liberace of sorts with sweaters and torts
 has a coffee shop down by the beach his bagels and locks are to die for
 yes in 1975 he went to Studio 54
 a hippie of sorts always dressed up in his shorts

 very giving man let the reader understand
 until the day he got busted for heroin it was all in the news
 needles were found even in the coffee house's sofa
 now the village ***** is doing time but everything is fine
 people still come by and shine

Lorazepam

A blanket of silent fluffy fog
Liquid-smooth muscles at rest
Dreamy with drifty thoughts
Tea-kettle steam pre hiss
No worries, no woes 
No wrinkly, scrinkly nose
Lemon and honey tea
Not sleeping; not waking;
Nowhere to go; nothing to do
Float through a limp lazy day 
June gentle breeze
Swaying lovely willow trees 
Like silky warm skin 
Sleeping on a sandy beach 
Cows graze in the field 
Creeks meander along slow 
(Meander is a funny word.) 
Lovers in naked embrace 
Smooth jazz in the evening 
Song sparrows sing in the sun 
After Thanksgiving-dinner nap 
Ice cream and mint tea 
Foot massage and back rubs 
Sleep in on Sunday till ten
Mountain meadow’s crystal stream.

If it ends in p-a-m 
It’s the good stuff.

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