Best In Some Way Poems
(WARNING SIGNS)
You are old and fragile
Claiming to be a lion when in bed
In some way, you remind me of the walking dead
Your bones make a sound when walking across the room
Rattling, as if they know your end is near
Confusing rigor mortis where muscle mass once stood
You say you have stamina that has no end
Until now, your back hurts when you move
Losing count of every inch that got away!!!
With your moods constantly changing,
I prefer not to mention the belly fat around your waist
Then you have romantic days, you plea to love
You chase down a Viagra pill with red fuzz
Seemingly, without adding depression to your day
Pill's are the only object expanding when swallowed
40 some, and you think you can romp around the room
I yawn, yet you are the one tired, next to doom
Dusty and old you boxer shorts
Can't remember the last time you stayed up late
Kicking the bucket every time I talk about S E X
Your hairline aged with time, bold and bald
I forgot which one you recalled this morning
Perhaps these are signs of low testosterone
Merely in the meantime............... R.I.P. WILL YA!!!
BY: PD
Every time you look at me
Brown eyes say, "I love you"
When you're lying next to me
Your snuggle says it too
That soft brown skin's inviting smell
I pull you to me tighter
I hope you know, somehow can tell
You make my days much brighter
So playfully, you steal a kiss
Like a child, I wipe my face
What have I done to feel such bliss
This gift of "amazing grace"
Each day you show me in some way
The meaning of true love
For you my friend, each night I pray
And thank The Lord above.
for my dog friend, Buddy:)
by Daniel Turner
Mara- Collateral damage
Hi, my name is Mara, I'm six years old, I have brown hair and brown eyes. People say I'm pretty like my mom, but, I don't know how that matters now.
My mom said she named me Mara because it means bitterness, my being born has only caused my family bitterness, as we are 4 children, in a war torn land. I am a girl and no one wants a girl, unless they are useful in some way.
My father escaped the war, and fled to America, he says to find us a better life. I don't understand how leaving us here would give us a better life! It's so dangerous here for woman, and even girls like me.
The only men we see are soldiers, or freedom fighters. My three brothers Ahmed 13, Sammir 12, Nicolo 11, went to get food at the market last week, they were looking for huma...humana....humani..tar i an relief. They were all killed when a bomb went off. I miss them a lot! No relief for me, I haven't eaten for a week.
I would love to go to school but all the schools are closed, most of the buildings are blown up, so I don't think I will go to school anyway.
My Mom left yesterday to play with the soldiers, she told me if you play with the soldiers they will give you food. I'm so hungry!!
Rat atat atat ata atatt knock knock knock open up, open up this door!!! Mom? I'm so glad your back! (opens door)
hey your not my mom!
Rat atat atat.
(Voice from behind) hey there's nobody here!! Let's go, lets go!
My name is Mara, I was 6 years old, now I'm dead. I guess I'm what they call collateral damage!
John Derek Hamilton
July 11,2017
First place premium contest winner
but who cares about a win really in this case.
all governments
are corrupted in some way,
exploiting the delivery of storks
that baby-boomers like to think are
precious gifts, but we are dropped bombs
to make this s***-hole new, paint it blue, not
for boys, but for our united sorrow, yet we
will still not give this stolen land that toiled
name like you do. we will paint it pink, not for
girls, but for the faded fire, bright and not
upon a spectrum, because we will not
put stickers on specks in an infinite
cycle, because we are just dots
of destined waste, longing
to get along
I’m in such a state of confusion,
I don’t understand what I’m doing
I know your there
And I know you care
But I can’t see you
I can’t hear you
I just don’t know what to do
I know your there in the stillness,
Waiting to heal this illness
There is a deep hole
A sickness in my soul,
Disease in the depths of my heart
But How to fix it
I wouldn't know where to start
How it came to be
Is a deep mystery to me
I know that I am broken
We all are in some way
But rarely are these things spoken
Rarely do I have the courage to say
The secrets kept within
The depths of my sin
But if I hide it how can it be healed
How can the healer heal?
If I keep my heart sealed
What if I let down my shield?
Will I be attacked or disgraced
Or will I be embraced
I’m too scared to find out
To be found out
So I hide my face
I only let people see part of me
I only let people get so close
I don’t want them to see
I don’t want them to know
And so I end up alone
I’ve been to the bar, the clubs,
All the social hubs
But no one cares about my hurts
Life’s all about chasing skirts,
Fancy cars and nice shirts
Or is there something beyond drunken nights, and flashing lights
Is there something really worth living for, an open door to something more?
An invitation to a new destination
A path to peace, a sweet release
A new life to claim, an escape from the shame
I believe there is, some days I forget
But my life isn’t over yet
Tomorrow is a new day
I can live life your way
With love and peace
With guilt and shame released
With a new heart
And a new start
A reason to live
And something to give
To this broken earth
Of invaluable worth
At my very core
I know I was born for more
Than to live and to die
Without knowing why
I don’t have it all figured out
But I know without a doubt
That the world needs love
And that love comes from above
Because human love is not enough
That is why there is a deep hole
And a sickness in my soul
But to me has been revealed
The way to be healed
Now I have a mission
A reason for existence
To bring healing to the earth
To the unloved, the broken, the rejected
And tell them what they are worth
So that Jesus’ love will be reflected
And this love will give birth
To many people being resurrected,
Redirected and completely accepted
To a wonderful and glorious rebirth
News Flash! Dragons Back! He’s the News Hog of the Day.
No one can print, without him, becoming entangled in some way.
He heard that there’s a new newspaper lurking, around the bend.
He wants to know… if he can pose as the new Super Hero, therein?
He’s already has a cape, and cell phone, so those in trouble, can call.
But beware, of his landings, he’s known to knock things down, even walls.
Still he gives a striking pose for the paparazzi, who always following him.
He’s been made a junior fireman, because fire simply, doesn’t bother him.
He saved a cat form Old Lady Moores’ burning barn, just the other day.
Don’t believe the rumor, it started from a stray spark, one of his, they say.
Remember don’t say that, it makes our little Dragon cry…it was the wind!
Our Carpenter Trolls are building a new one; to replace the one, he did singe!
Acorn Falls is our town; Dragon seems to have put it on the map, to stay.
Folks in town are wanting a name change, to Dragon’s Mayhem Falls, today!
If you want an exciting vacation, let me know, I’ll tell you where, it’s at!
Here are the numbers to call, to contact us, and we even rent hard hats.
The carpenter Troll’s are 1-800-555- Repair & Fix
The town number has become 1-800-555- Mayhem Falls
My number for a joyous write is 1-800-555- let it rip
To Rent a Super Hero Dragon is 1-800-555-Dragon Here
Just remember that if you call Dragon, Please keep the other numbers on hand.
There’s a free coupon given, for first time services, if things don't go as planned.
And remember, if repairs are needed, a free barbecue, can be on the house.
Especially, if that’s what’s burning, so be prepared, eventually it'll be, put out!
Written 10-18-2014
When I was a young child I studied ants
I loved their formation on ground and plants.
Like tiny soldiers lined, disciplined well,
They worked hard all day, from what I could tell.
Their strength was awesome, things they could carry,
Never wasting time, all day they'd tarry.
One time as I watched two lines in a row
In opposite directions they did go.
Then as I watched them, like a friend of mine,
Two friends stopped to chat then returned in line.
Ant's personalities, unique to see....
How akin these small creatures are to me.
I love their work ethic in an ant farm....
A splended tool to teach kids not to harm.
They work together harmoniously
And will protect their nest defensively.
Please teach your children the value they give.
Not to destroy their nests, please let them live.
They work to keep other insects at bay
And help till the soil in their special way.
I know households do disdainfully reject,
Yet these small insects gain my full respect.
They have survived millions of years on earth.
There-in lies their beauty, proving their worth!
11-2-18
Insects Poetry Contest~First Place~ in a winning list of seven
Sponsored by: Angela Tune
Note: Ants are eusocial insects of the family Formicidae and, along with the related wasps and bees, belong to the order Hymenoptera.
Ants evolved from wasp-like ancestors in the Cretaceous period, about 140 million years ago, and diversified after the rise of flowering plants.
It has come to light according to a new study, that ants produce their own antibiotics to deal with diseases that can be used to treat humans as well.
Ants do a lot for us and the environment in general. A single
large colonel of ants will pick up and or kill 100,000 other insects a day for food. So they're the pest control themselves of the insect kingdom. Many species of ants have a mutual relationship with plants that the ants may benefit from in some way. Over 12,000 species of ants have been scientifically identified. Ants are known to be a good source of protein and ingested in several countries.
Sing the Song of Love and Loyalty
Raven lurking in the stillness and quiet
dark moon lit ashen mist, fog of night.
Burst of sparkling electrifying woven blanket;
Lovers spin clinging upon the wind laced secret intimate flight,
Musical chant vibrates shape hidden in sound and light.
~
White wolf walks in courage by day,
His lover black raven by night.
Under the drunken midnight moon bewitching charm two lovers lay;
Stolen moment of time freedom to hunger in delight.
In concert howls answers the calls of invite at twilight.
~
Made to roam,
carrying their spirit souls throughout eternity.
Their pleas ignored to be set free in their home;
denied of their earthly life because of jealousy and envy
of their song of love and loyalty.
© 8/9/2015
Based on a tale of two lovers magically transformed into a wolf and a raven because of the love they shared for each other never to be together as humans. One would become human during the day the other at night thus they pursue each other around until someday in some way they would become human once more.
Mama I want to be a star
I want to grace stages that host the world's revered faces
Fantasies shameless my pipe dreams contagious
I want to be famous
Not one for fictional frivolity
I speak of what's in front of me
A new city called Poetry,
I watched as the has-beens soaked their dreams in sewage streams
Unphased by rodent plagues
These ones embrace their own rat race
I still try to navigate the avenues
Negotiate the ones and twos and find a way to tell the truth
Young and unstable I stumble in the giant footprints of those who stood before me
Tip toe on verbal terrain as desperately I pray the weight of immaturity won't bury me,
Admittedly this spoken world is new to me
-But-
Is it possible in any way the gift of verse will carry me?
I see me breaking grounds, earth shattering and in my dreams these words resound
I'll turn cacophony into somewhat of a sacred sound
I want to craft phrases that serenade, deliver sweet-somethings that emancipate
I want, in some way to bring meaning to confusion
Dear world of poetry
Sometimes when they're floored I'm in awe of how my flow's flawless, I hear applause no pauses, waving arms and stinging palms bear tribute to those timeless charms, classic tales still bent with intent to succumb to new pens
Pave way for insecurity
For fear of gift escaping me
See I fail to write when I'm trying to
I get it right with no intention to
Am I...within my right to claim potential true?
Tear ink off her hinges, her blue ball point cringes
Left hand in debt
My blank page bereft
But in the back of my mind
I see standing ovations and soul drenched invasions..
I want to pierce every being I encounter,
I want to penetrate faith, tear doubt asunder,
Let me to speak to the valleys
negotiate peaks and make friends with epitome
I want to part oceans and in the grips of my - pause - tempt emotions,
mold momentum to set in motion the wheels of adoption so that poetry.....may adapt herself for me
I want to write poetry, I want to speak
I want to reach within,
pen something...
A remote reflection of her
This...this brand new city
I present this piece as fantasy
when in all reality
I do hope she's prepared for me
This is our season, we still are one,
our time together, under the sun.
Im sorry again, i have done wrong,
how many times, the nights were long.
To stay with me, after what i have done,
i will never know why, you just didn't run.
I dont understand, your faithful heart,
or not wanting to make, a brand new start.
You said it hurt, and left the room,
could i explain, the scent of perfume.
I try to change, but in some way,
you kept me close, not letting me stray.
You took my life, forever in yours,
wanting me to know, it's loving shores.
Somehow you knew, the future was set,
together in love, as when we met.
A shades poet, writing in blacks quailed ink,
Expressing emotions by a poetic pallet of diversity,
On a canvas rainbow bursting forth across the
Horizon at dawns first light.
Imaginations dream seeker, walking amongst
The clouds, in heaven's meadows above.
Inspiration's muse, she'll never realize what
A simple comments pleasure, can give to
Lighten up someones day.
I've read eloquence's words placed upon the
Lab top screen before me, and felt tears sorrow,
Exhilaration’s heights of elevation.
Through her words of poetic thoughts placed
Within lines.
Getting to know another person, and so now
Calling her a friend.
We the bards are becoming a rare breed,
Unique each one of us, in our own ways,
But in retrospective similarities sharing the
Same traits and needs.
To write, to express, and use our intense
Imaginations, to take others along with us,
In a journey beyond physical limitations,
Beyond body and mind.
She calls herself Poet Destroyer, but in
Reality's truth, she is not destruction’s poetic
Slayer, but instead an angel of
Compassion helping those whom need guidance.
What is the meaning of life, I've heard this
Asked many times before?
My personal opinion to this question is
To make some kind of difference in this
World.
To touch another's persons life in some way,
Special,
Poet Destroyer you've touched mine,
And this is my way of saying thank you.
Happy Birthday to come my friend.
Always Cheri.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
My life is so complicated and frustrating
sometimes I just feel the need to scream
I hate this life that I live
Someday I wish I could wake up and it would all be a dream
Not a second goes by that I am not thinking of you in some way
When I look into your eyes
I get butterflies
I never know just what to say
I am so afraid to be myself
I am afraid you won’t like the real me
So I try to be someone else
Without you in my heart
I feel incomplete
Without you I am falling apart
Your dark long wavy hair
As it blows in the wind
You stand there
It makes my heart mend
From all the past heart breaks
You helped me see that not all guys are mean
You’re so sweet
You are the boy of my dreams
Someday we’ll meet
Life Spent - All Alone
When I spend time at the old nursing home
to see a loved one in our family,
it breaks my heart to see those all alone
just sitting, waiting, by the wall to see
if I might be someone they'll know today
who came to visit, spend a little while-
show them they are remembered in some way;
so sad to pass each waiting- as I smile,
pained eyes meet mine, and anguish fills my heart-
they search for love- to feel that they belong.
Day after day, abandoned- not a part
of family or friends for which they long.
They sit and stare with mournful faces raised-
lined up against the wall, alone and dazed.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Choices
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Judged: 06/20/2019
~2nd Place~
Contest: Abandon 2
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
Judged: 07/25/2018
Sometimes, I find myself on a battleground
in the present or in sieges from the distant past
It may be a war I've been waging within myself,
a thorn that needs plucking so that I might heal
I wear no crown, nor do I wish to be gowned
in regal robes and sit upon a throne looking down
on anyone. For me, those things hold no appeal
I am rebellious against the many wrongs I've seen
and if you think it's mean of me to feel that way—
You don't know me well enough to pass judgement
With regret, I've been the cause of an Angel's weeping
when down a misguided path I chose to walk
Mistakes? I've made my share of them, maybe more
but I've always tried to amend my faults in some way
Indemnity is not always reimbursed with coin
More often than not, my tears the price to pay
Sometimes, even I have not found the sentience of it—
things I do; emotions I feel. No reason as to why except
that I am compelled without restraint or prudence to try
I refute the need to live by the creed of the golden rule—
for only a fool would claim the world is a righteous place
where smug faces play fair in games of love and war
If I am defeated, I never hesitate to stand again
for I've always despised the thought of white flags
and retreating like a coward again and again, in sad refrain
I garner resilience and strength from every enemy I meet
and in defeat, my stratagem sharpens much keener
I am not a warrior; that's not the path I want to take
I've been storm tossed in seas of turbulent weather
When faced with animosity, I will not shiver and quake
Offered silk or suit of armor— I prefer a softer demeanor
Self-professed I am supple of breast
Heart not crafted from leather
From flesh, blood and bone
Of the gender called woman
I was not chiseled from stone
Faith can be many things to many people.
It is not claimed only by those who are Chrisitans.
Since ancient times, many have acted on faith
even performing strange rituals such as
dancing for days, jumping off cliffs, or offering up sacrifices
with the belief that their actions will benefit them in some way.
Hope is natural to many as well, whether it be hope in Christ
or hope in one’s dreams coming true.
Without it, many would despair; hope keeps us going.
Charity, however, is another thing entirely.
People profess love for their mates, family, and fellow man,
yet look at the statistics. Divorce, terrorism, bullying, greed.
All of this is opposite of the pure love of God.
Having real love, we put others above ourselves.
Charity has no room for things like egoism, jealousy or pride.
The act of charity is the kind of love which
– if it could be achieved as the norm by even half the world -
would make our life on earth as blissful as heaven.
Sadly, very few people have achieved this attribute.
Oct. 21, 2019
for Regina Riddle's 1St Corinthians 13:13 Inspiration Poetry Contest