Best In Real Time Poems
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
None will ever live to see age twenty four
None of them even know what they're fighting for
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
The world has always been this way
With Emperors and Kings
Fighting with toy soldiers
And the glory that it brings
Land, beliefs, religion
The basis of the war
fought by young toy soldiers
Who all die by the score
Time has taught us nothing
But, it's changed the way we fight
War is a full day job
Now that it is fought at night
The boards of little armies
Are now shown up on the screen
With all the little soldiers
Lit in different shades of green
They used to be all metal
Painted up in nice bright shades
With a General on horseback
Leading all his smart brigades
Then, the men were plastic
glued to bits of wood
Behaving as a unit
Just like a soldier should
Now, the war is different
They're up there in different hues
You can watch them fight in real time
Just like on the nightly news
The only thing remaining
The thing that's stayed the same
Is that nobody in power
Know the Little Soldiers names
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
None will ever live to see age twenty four
None of them even know what they're fighting for
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
April 29 2018
Categories:
in real time, boy, goodbye, peace, soldier,
Form:
Rhyme
Once
Only once in a dream tornadoes uproot a house
Spinning over black and white fields of corn
Straight through the open arms of a rainbow
Two companions cling way up high above the storm.
Only once in a dream a yellow road
Built of spiraling ochre bricks
Winds away from tender magic and maleficence -
Footprints of paws and prized rubied slippers.
Only once in a dream flying through a rainbow
Only one pilgrimage to hear a bluebird’s rhapsody
Only a lullaby searching for home
Only once in this multi-color reverie.
Only once in a dream quest to a city – emerald green -
New friends - combustible, roaring, rusting -
Through purple forests dusky, enchanted orange poppies seen,
Awake to cold kisses of refreshing snowflakes.
Only once in a dream home holds out its hand
Not held hostage in monkeyed night terrors
Homecoming revealed from behind a curtain
Eyes opened in real time as nightmares melt away.
Only once in a dream flying through a rainbow
Only one pilgrimage to hear a bluebird’s rhapsody
Only a lullaby searching for home
Only once in this multi-colored reverie.
Coda
But,
It’s not about once flying through a rainbow -
Journeys to wizards or a munchkin land –
It’s about a cross – about a nail scarred man –
Who always takes our hand on yellow roads back home.
8-30-20
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Contest: Pick a Title - Vol. 22 - Lyric 2
Categories:
in real time, dream, home, life, rainbow,
Form:
Lyric
A Most Holy Vision Speaks in Mystical Tomes
Enchanted colorful images shine ever-brightly from
a wild cosmic fire appearing high in the evening sky.
As people gaze upon these unusually radiant images
there is, at once, a universal sense of calm and peace.
Poets worldwide observing this most unique heavenly
occurrence seize their pens to record all that they see.
As they begin to write what they see, it seems as though
their ink’s like a magical blood flowing through their pens.
As this sacred blood flows freely, the poets write with a
palpable sense that an amazing grace moment is at hand.
The true essence of this divine moment starts as the poets
witness the appearance of God’s Angels in the evening sky.
The poets seek to understand these unbelievable events in
real-time as they appear arrayed against the evening sky.
There’s an angelic message that now speaks fervently through
the wondrous magic of the poets’ pens—pensive and voiceless.
This holy missive canorously echoes visions from past lives,
whilst presenting highlights that speak vividly to future events.
With the past as prologue and the present now in real-time,
the angels’ missive of mankind’s future on Earth is positive.
As poets and other writers observe and record their notes, it’s
clear the cosmic fire is not the “End of Time” fire and brimstone.
Rather, it’s God’s way through his angels to capture mankind’s
attention and to refocus humanity’s efforts in service to others.
The holy missive makes clear that the path to redemption and
forgiveness lies within our own power as we seek to find God.
And that the angels shall always be with us as our souls ascend
heavenward one day on trails of cosmic dust to be one with God.
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 26, 2018 (Couplet)
Categories:
in real time, allegory, angel, earth, god,
Form:
Couplet
The happy sound of the coffeemaker.
Or of a welcomed friend’s voice!
Using a real phone, not texting,
You sense her in real time, a true joy
Maybe it is his sensual deep voice?Hmm?
That hungry baritone, whose voice moves
clouds.
Or a toddler’s feet, prancing on the rainy
soggy, ground.
Be so glad you can hear the rain melting
snowflakes on rocks.
Or the street, maybe the loud noise of a
lawnmower, by a fit young teen wearing
emblazoned baseball socks.
How about the music of the late and great!
Steven Sondheim, the brillant song writer
for “West Side Story?”
His lyrics make me feel like I am touching
the magic underbelly of heaven in all my
earthly glory.
Here is something, no poet should ever miss.
Have a poetry lover read to you, one of your
poems aloud, it’s like a hug and a kiss.
I had no idea whatsoever the power my
poems held.
I can tell you, I honestly cried when to
this auditory treasure, I fell.
For me by my poems, I am so very
unimpressed.
Till they were read to me, and my soul
and emotions were undressed.
1/1/2022
Categories:
in real time, appreciation, joy, life, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
Had it been my expectations or was
it betrayal.
The insights withdraw insanity
climbing up with prayers
In real time when I was never real,
In hopeless nights when I was never
hopeless....
All of a sudden had the world
changed or had my devotion
The birds dint stop chirping,n sky
expanding, n I was still in motion
Motion never ceases but getting
ceased is not motion
With words that I play getting more
trapped in emotion
through the frame less windows
when they pry
Getting self sustained........they cry
Categories:
in real time, write
Form:
Free verse
Distant Things
Our memories are distant things
that live among our yesterdays.
They live in thoughts, and each one brings
those moments framed in many ways.
Like photographs and video...
the copies of those moments past;
those distant things we want to know
are safe within these things that last.
Though often lost...reality;
we miss the real-time moments when
we strive to make the copies be
those 'moments' to watch once again.
So oft we view life through a lens,
or on a cell phone high-tech screen;
events of family or friends...
but miss the 'in-the-moment' scene.
Our memories are distant things
that should be felt in real time,
for once they're gone, can never bring
that 'we are there' joy so sublime.
Our memories are distant things...
reruns of life replayed once more;
but copies miss the thrill that brings
those real-life moments to adore.
June 9, 2016
Contest: Screwed XX
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
~NA~
Judged: 06/12/2016
Categories:
in real time, inspirational, memory,
Form:
Quatrain
Friendship in a Covid world. (C) Arthur Abrahamson January 2021
My Facebook friends photo stares back at me from the blue tinted screen
A 13 -year-old photograph, the hint of a smile, looking cool looking mean
What do you look like now I wonder, older?wiser? angrier? calmer?
Prematurely aged perhaps by life’s little dramas.
“You can choose your friends but not your relations” an often repeated mantra from my father
who was as right as he was contrary.
Our real friendships oil the wheels of our lives with friends, lovers, husbands and wives,
they age with us and care about us as they would a sister or brother, we are their cherished sibling
unattached by blood.
My Facebook friends are regimented on my screen like dissolute soldiers in various stages
of readiness about to march onto some unknown battleground far away in the ether.
They have funny names Krafty Q,,Lucy Luck, Donald mouse and Mickey duck,
Send me a PM they say but I’m not Whats apping today, I won’t get back to you right away.
Face-to-face in real time I can see the glint in my friends eye, a sudden smile chased from their
face as the conversation moves on again,
Real friends can see my gain, my loss, my joy, my hurt my pain
They ring me at unexpected times, we chat, we sigh, we laugh and cry they’re familiar voices
provide a source of comfort to me like an old favourite jumper I’ve worn for years.
We chat about the highs and lows of our times together, telling each other cherished jokes and
stories that are the markers in our coveted relationship.
They are real, they are the people, although not always seen, who are there in spirit to turn to
when I’m emotionally bereft, or lose a loved one to a Covid death,
They, who I move towards when I need a cuddle when life at home becomes a muddle.
A wall of silent photos on my computer screen I have 396 Facebook friends,
I’ve only ever met 22 the rest are silent never ageing, still in particular poses
I much prefer my real friends who I can see to embrace and hold when this horror closes.
Categories:
in real time, friendship, women,
Form:
Free verse
(Sing to the tune "American Pie.)
I long, long time ago, I can still remember when,
Junk food made me smile,
And I knew if I had a chance,
That I could make my fatness dance,
And maybe I was happy for a while,
But McDonald's made me shiver,
With every burger they'd deliver,
Bad news on their doorstep,
I couldn't take one more step,
I can't remember if I cried,
When I passed size twenty-five,
But something touched me deep inside,
The day I knocked back French fries.
CHORUS....
So, bye, bye, McDonald's French fries,
Drove my chevy away from McDonald's,
didn't have a bevy,
I said goodbye to whiskey and rye,
Singing no more apple pies,
That's the end of obesity fries....
Did you go to McDonald's biomes?
Did you know you're changing your genomes?
Eating all those pesticides?
Now do you believe they love you guys?
Might as well eat dead flies!
And can you change evolution in real time?
CHORUS.......
I was an obese teenage bronco buck,
Driving to McDonald's in a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck,
The day I ate landfill in those French fries...
I started singing bye, bye obesity fries,
Drove my chevy, had no bevies,
And the burgers were dry,
This is the day I knock back French fries.
CHORUS.......
I met a girl who sang the blues,
]She'd passed turning size twenty-two,
I asked her if she ate junk food too,
She just smiled and drove away,
I drove down to the store no more,
Where I ate additives years before,
But the junk food store didn't care anyway...
CHORUS, CHORUS.....
Categories:
in real time, addiction, food, nostalgia, song,
Form:
Free verse
The Present
A fleeting moment in eternal time,
And ever progressive in real-time.
One’s “now” moment, then in history past,
Now in motion moving to future fast.
My words become history when I write,
No need to worry now—I’ll make them right.
As the present is present progressive,
The past then follows now so possessive.
The night stars are past in a mere eye blink,
Their images not part of “present” sync.
A constant portent of events to come,
As we each live “now” in what we’ll become.
Give me your hand for this moment is it;
Let’s seize now this moment and live in it.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(December 26, 2014) (Heroic Couplet)
Categories:
in real time, allegory, change, imagery, journey,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
one night i dreamt i was surfing in cyberspace &
many images flickered in Adobe Flash
with every movement made, every keystroke &
slide of the mouse to & fro,
i hadn’t a clue (in real time), but i knew
that there were centillions of digital footsteps
being made with every moment
leaving their print upon the world within the screen
(still outside my own physical self)---
while my own history could partially be brought up
manually on my PC, i knew that
every phone call, every movie watched & every second
spent on the web,
had been recorded somewhere,
being held for an indeterminate amount of time &
unlike those nutjobs who say they had a
“near death experience” &
their lives flashed before their eyes,
i myself was fairly certain that
i would never come in complete contact with
this shadow of online presence.
this, however, did not bother me,
because whether my life was dragging down deep in
the gutter or
flying up in the air by the seat of its pants,
i was grounded in the cooling light of backlit LED pixels,
which would be with me until my dying day
(or until i became one with them in the future).
and there was no conversation with my PC,
because it was not a capable artificial intelligence
(as of yet) & therefore it had to abide my own human
error
(alas, PC, i pity thee) &
unlike the fictional “lord” of those religious idiots out there
walking in the sand,
it did not “speak to me” when i was down on my knees
squinting to myself with hands clasped
(um, for i wasn’t),
conversating inside my own head
hoping for answers to questions
to magically arise from my own fragmented,
severely delusional &
quite obviously
bat*****
mad
psyche.
no, there was no made up excuse
for which this human had to look to
in order to alleviate responsibility for those things
that are the most absolutely horrible
which all of us humans have done to each other,
the world around us &
to ourselves,
but rather
only quality time spent
between myself & my computer,
which had evolved from a less impressive model to its
current state,
but which would be outdated in a few years &
get scrapped for a better one,
until its own superiority
surpassed my own &
i needed to become one with it---
then, there would be no
digital footprints at all,
for they’d all be
within.
Categories:
in real time, life, world, time,
Form:
Free verse
‘Sankofa’ In 'Safranbolu'
This bird from Ghana’s legends flies forward looking backward
In the Twi language twinned with indigenous souls and wisdom
the feathered friend suggests to go back and get it and I suppose
some fly backwards while looking ahead but then life is not only
Chronos but 'Kairos' with the meter entwined and composed
At this precise moment not alone in this moving instant it waves
and oscillates conjoining what was and will be when the present
is the past in a flash and one cannot step into the same river again
yet the future is shaped by the past the here and now a 'Kairometer'
transcending artefacts and boundaries into ‘truths’ and reality
The bird flies and time flows back and beyond near and far
further on wings and pinions with roots at heart
In ‘Safranbolu’ the ancient Ottoman town on the Black Sea Coast
and thus close to Ghana in real time place and connection
the old man had been tending the clock in the tower both man and
the turret free standing and wise still present and one
‘Seventy years’ as he explained pendulum hands and the wheels
What memories pride mechanics precision preserved aspiration and
dignity flying into the face of the clock and the distortions of time
Mustafa had climbed those steps so often had rung the bell
oiled the time keeper had not forgotten a day of his duties
had become one with the time piece and stood still many times
in awe of monument and pacing the sleepy old town yet
he flew forward so peacefully looking back in retrospect and respect
He has watched birds history duration impermanence imprinting the
meaning of a life worthy of living in honour of what is the present
20th November in all past and future revisited
Categories:
in real time, time, tribute,
Form:
Free verse
*written in real time*
The clouds portended rain hours earlier
But I chose to venture out anyway
I failed to heed the forecast
The skies changed from a blue to a gray hue
The downpour is heavy and the clashes
Of thunder is incessant
Yet I'm in no hurry to reach my destination
So I'll wait out the torrential rain
I have neither an umbrella nor a raincoat
So I seek shelter to kill time; too cold to get wet!
Lest lightning forks it's tongue into me,
I'd rather watch the pelting rain toss rings...
Into water puddles in rapid succession
Creating ripples. It's a captivating sight!
I'll patiently wait here until
The rain subsides.
WEEK 1 MARCH 2019,any form-theme,upto max of 20 lines
Sponsored by Brian Strand (Winner: 1st Place)
Date written and posted: 04/02/2016
Categories:
in real time, rain, sound, spring, time,
Form:
Free verse
Some never
experience it,
that time
of a perfect fit
Before everything
that gets
in the way gets
in the way.
It was really
nothing much: just
words, and
remembered touch,
Brevity
in real time,
in memory
forever.
Categories:
in real time, eulogy,
Form:
Carpe Diem
Lately i've been thinking
Am i blue or am i pink
Am i living out this life in real time
Or merely following the highlights
Can i or could have indeed done
anything different
Made better choices gone right
instead of left
Or is it and was it all predestined
And i just a passenger or guide
Here is where i am
Where i was simply unavoidably
meant to be
Until my clock expires and so do i
Not a second more or less to buy
Where i stand is where i die
Lately i've been thinking
I think to much
Wishing what limited time
i have away
Complaining rather than
being grateful and relishing
All the thing's i am bound to miss
Thing's i wish i should and could
have done
But put off in favour of doing
nothing of consequence
Worthy of a single memory or
anecdote to last me or keep
me company for eternity
If someone was in death to ask
Categories:
in real time, slam,
Form:
Free verse
There are places out in space
that beg the question of why,
abiding where dreams embrace
our infinite inner sky.
Stargazers pay attention
to sidereal pathways,
tracing every dimension,
some using astral math ways.
Scientists study each fact
and what their instruments find
of astronomic impact
in terms of matter and mind.
The poets wordily lithe
of celestial wonders sing
with lofty spirits and blithe
as upward their fancies wing.
Throughout human death and birth
we’ve gazed at the heavens awed
while creating hell on earth
through cause and effect that’s flawed.
We see not with precision
through mortal perceptions, but
with illusory vision
pretentiously say what’s what.
And yet, if the truth be told,
in our braggadocio
of verities we behold,
how little we truly know!
There are dreams beyond our dreams
that fly in the face of fear,
where all is more than it seems
to casual eye and ear.
In evolution stellar
a flash was observed in view
from dying cosmic dweller
that brought it to life anew…
If stars come back from the dead
reborn in a blaze of light,
who knows what might lie ahead
beyond our limited sight?
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Inspiration for poem derived from article with image ~ "Astronomers observe star reborn in a flash"…
"An international team of astronomers using Hubble have been able to study stellar evolution in real time. Over a period of 30 years dramatic increases in the temperature of the star SAO 244567 have been observed. Now the star is cooling again, having been reborn into an earlier phase of stellar evolution. This makes it the first reborn star to have been observed during both the heating and cooling stages of rebirth."
Categories:
in real time, birth, creation, death, dream,
Form:
Verse