Best In The Raw Poems
I find beauty in the unkempt places ~~
Sticky beehives with perfectly formed combs,
A child's playground sea of dirty faces,
An overgrown garden with ugly gnomes,
Sagging gables of long-deserted homes.
I look for more than people likely see ~~
Wondrous events occurring in past tense,
Places long untouched, lovely by degree,
Feelings of beauty lit from innocence,
Well-crafted stories hinging on suspense.
I long for beauty in the dour mundane ~~
Making the minus a clear positive,
Finding some loveliness in the profane,
To be learned in the raw provocative,
Turning low grades into superlative.
[LIFE]
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written July 1, 2022
For "It's All About Three Q's" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
[15-10 syllable lines in 3 Stanzas checked by HMS
The ababb of the English Quintain with rhymes
checked with Rhyme Zone]
#16 on Poetry Soup's 100 Best New Poems List
August 24, 2022
#20 on Poetry Soup's 100 Best New Poems List
August 15, 2022
Categories:
in the raw, beautiful, beauty, places,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Lament
Brooding days,
Vanquished in the unconnected gloom,
Shower frost,
Standing watch at dawn to pierce the morning
With an artic tempest,
Swirling ‘cross a land lost in forgetfulness:
Sighing
Beneath borderless views of snow unbroken,
Where nothing dare disturbs
The unchanging vision
But a single line of footprints
When skies of grey and bleaker daylight
Lean so close to earth
They lay their heaviness upon a homeless wood sprite
Wandering in the raw breath of twilight dawning,
Caught by phantom gusts
Spiraling down,
Shivering as the brumaled wind
Runs its fingers
Through the marrow of the soul
Where slumber languishes,
Icebound
As plodding steps
Frantically searching groves of tangled silver linden,
Pursued
And haunted
By the relentless midnight sun;
Errant fugitive,
Followed by the wispy remnants of a golden morning,
Trembling
As barren aspen branches
Beneath bright errant bursts of fiery lights -
Racing
Across
The northern sky -
Taunting
Tortured
Eyes
Seeing only to remember;
Grasping
For a single crocus
Plunged into yearning
Until the boreal shadows
Touch
The depth of darkness
Bidding nordic sprite to sit,
To rest,
Curled up against a frozen birch of black and white,
Taking final flight on tattered winds
Heralding the touch of sunlight.
Godspeed my friend
Categories:
in the raw, depression, sleep, snow, sorrow,
Form:
Free verse
Indistinct, they circumnavigate in the raw ~
they’re thoughts unprocessed and unpolished
ethereal and feral, nothing more than impulses really
If it were up to me, I might drown in that sea of ambiguity
and forego all communication with the outside world
forever content staying confined to my private universe
In most instances I couldn’t be bothered
yet at times I’d almost want to scream to be heard
that’s when I’d want to be as loud and clear as I could be
But sometimes the words refuse to form
at times so deep they must be mined
and surface in their own time that can’t be rushed
So I write because it allows me to think at my own pace
I can capture what I feel, what I remember
I can seize it and can verbalize it
I write for different reasons
I write because most people
never ask what’s on my mind when the time’s right
or won’t wait for me to put my thoughts to words
I write because I want to say it right
I want to choose my words
not be misquoted
Mostly I write to capture time
time as a memory, time as a treasure
time as tangible, time as a toy to amuse
Mostly I write to be heard
I write so I can say I’ve done my part
I’ve said my bit and can’t be faulted for staying quiet
I write so I won’t die
without a voice, without saying my piece
without having said all I had to say
AP: 1st place 2022
Posted on September 2, 2022
Categories:
in the raw, introspection, voice, words, writing,
Form:
Free verse
I want you,
not in a symphony of promises,
but in the raw rhythm of now,
each beat a fleeting note,
strumming on the strings of today.
Your smile? A wildfire against the dark,
brief but unforgettable,
scorching the edges of my calm.
I don’t love you, or maybe I don’t yet.
This isn’t a sonnet etched in stone,
but a freestyle verse,
imperfect, raw, and unapologetically real.
Around you, joy pools in moments,
sweet like honey slipping from a tilted jar,
messy, golden, impossible to catch.
I crave intimacy,
not the heavy kind forged for forever,
but a spark that ignites and dances wildly,
a streetlight blazing against the night,
brilliant, and when it fades,
it leaves no regrets.
Tomorrow is a phantom,
a shadow I refuse to chase.
I won’t pretend I can’t live without you,
that’s a lie I won’t tell myself.
I lived before you,
and if there’s an after you,
I will learn to live again.
If you find someone who feels like the sunrise,
I will step aside and let you shine.
But tonight,
be the fractured prism in my sky,
bending light into something magical,
something ours.
Let us be wind and flame,
meeting briefly,
dancing wildly,
until the world decides our time is done.
Loosely attached,
like two leaves on the same stream,
flowing together,
until the current pulls us apart.
No chains, no forever, no myths,
just this moment,
a flash of something beautiful,
here and now.
Categories:
in the raw, devotion, romance,
Form:
Free verse
So many seek you by the light of the dawn only to lose you through the haze of dusk
You are mysterious at times a silent secret in the navel of mans thoughts, a deviance
a variate inside the doors of the conscience far remote when peppered with denial
you want to be sought after like love agape,
so many seek you by the light of the dawn, only to lose you to the heady scent of musk
you are like a fine cut diamond in the raw, if I press you to a mirror you break the image
you save, you redeem, you make deer sleep, you see a sinner and turn him into snow
Palpable like the studded stars of heaven every filament of your grace, is a hot burner
You show up at the most inconvenient times and sometimes the most timely ones too
So many seek you by the light of the dawn but you being truth, always come as you are,
clear faced and bold, you hold your own
So many seek you by the light of the dawn only to lose you through the haze of dusk
you are mysterious, at times a silent secret in the navel of a womans thoughts , deviant.
Categories:
in the raw, truth,
Form:
Free verse
THE WORLD OUTSIDE
Be inspired by nature in the raw
At its core, a real and living thing
It can bring life to all the senses
No defences, just lost in wonder
What lies under, often hard to see
A long history, but is always new
Many, by tech, can be engrossed
For most, life never has to be real
Can they feel like many others do
What is true should be embraced
Smell and taste, sound and vision
After watching hours of animation
No consideration of world reality
Fake normality is a tempting trap
Just flick and tap on a tiny screen
Life between two kinds of artifice
Categories:
in the raw, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
From a distance what I saw
in a Down Syndrome child
was a human in the raw—
forgettable, lamentable, wild.
My prejudice was abhorrent
dismissing a "different" being.
Disdain came in a torrent
driven by cold-eyed seeing.
Then came a close-up look
at a new grandson in my arms.
My bias I forthwith forsook
lost in his extra-gene charms.
Almond-shaped eyes, short fingers
flat nose—those one observes.
But the trait that ever lingers
is a smile an angel deserves.
The sight remodels the mind,
assures that nothing is awry.
Anything like it you won't find
regardless of how hard you try.
From a distance what we see
is often not what we suppose.
The virtues of human intimacy
universal truths ultimately disclose.
Categories:
in the raw, discrimination, grandchild, prejudice,
Form:
Rhyme
I consume that aroma of fresh roasted coffee beans; Oh, that very first sip!
A perfect 205 degrees; steaming, but not so hot to burn one's lip.
It should be sweetened with sugar, but not overly sweet.
A couple or three teaspoons of "sugar in the raw," a treat.
The cream should be half and half, but never too milky.
A heavenly sensation, not too mild or strong; smooth and silky.
This caffeinated elixir that awakens the delicate buds on my tongue, is for me,
The anticipation of stimulation, craved by a person with adhd.
Barbara Campbell for contest, "Poems That did Not place and More" (coffee)
09/06/15
Categories:
in the raw, senses, sweet,
Form:
Rhyme
WE ARE POLLUTION
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the beginning, its said we were just dust,
Conjecture or, simply words I don't trust.
Even the big bang theory is not a positive must.
For the truth in all manner of things, I do lust.
I know it's out there, we've just scratched the crust.
I would bet a fortune but, unfortunately, I'm bust!
Gasses condensing along with dust compaction,
Probably planet earth's initial nuclear reaction.
Nuclear fusion in the raw, a non-fatal attraction.
Initially molten, cooling, a hardening contraction.
Still many millennia before life saw any action.
Abiogenesis some 4.2 billion years ago, first life!
Understanding self-replicating, still causing strife
Once instigated molecular life became common, rife.
Evolution in reality, fast, look, now man and wife.
Are we happy, we are the pollution, have we gone too far?
the door to self-destruction now open, well slightly ajar,
The not too distant future will climate warming will mar?
Most scientists researching nature, all life's chances,
suggest stop pollution, change ourselves, adopt new stances.
The end of life as we know it, total mass extinction,
I, and I wish all of humanity will find the lust.
To help nature right our wrongs, she needs our interaction,
stopping pollution now right now might just suffice,
else planet earth might end up looking like a star.
Let's all help save planet earth with great distinction
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
01/26/18: Amended punctuation and the date composed, 0900hrs 01/26/18
Entered in the MINUANETTA - Poetry Contest sponsored Gregory R Barden.
Categories:
in the raw, angst, anxiety, change, earth,
Form:
Rhyme
The Christmas ball saw them all in the raw
Snow folk danced naked that everyone saw
Snowballs and snowboobies
And the snowmens moobies
But it ended when they started to thaw.
Written 3 December 2019.
For Holiday Themed Limerick Contest
Syllables Checked At How Many Syllables.
Sponsored By Tania Kitchin.
Categories:
in the raw, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Smothering white innocense
Soft as the fur above the paw
And we forssook our defense
To print tracks of joy in the raw
Cold freedom of your sweet pile
Until the sun differently shows
Our fairy fantasy in its hot defile
Emotion melts like sudden snows
Categories:
in the raw, lost love,
Form:
Verse
Wham bam
thank you ma’am.
This is a slam
and slam I am.
First and formost
I DON’T like your name.
I live in Pee Dee.
How can I slam someone
who has the name of my home.
Nope, I’ll just have to call you
Dis-strower, because you’re
no destroyer, just a dis thrower.
Actually I think you are a wuss
who just pretends
to go off the deepest of the deep ends,
so deep I get the bends
just from reading your fuss.
If you want to strow some of that stuff
my way I’m here any day.
I’ve got you covered.
Just roll those snake eyes
and I’ll throw them back at you,
Full of hypnosis and lobototosis.
Girlfriend, you’ll think you’re brain dead.
That hurtful dirt you normally spread
will clump up right behind your eyes.
You wont be able to see
any of those trashy words.
You’ll think you have verbal lock jaw.
You’ll be outgunned in the raw,
in a snowstorm of inuendo,
pseudo cyber ju jit su,
combined with verbal ka-ra-tayyyyy.
Come on girl, Charles is here todayyyyy
ready to dance on your playyyy.
savvayyy???
© Jul 16 2010 Charles Henderson for PD’s “slam” contest
Categories:
in the raw, funnyslam, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Neath the surface of the lake
there is a magical land
cool blue waters with a stake
of reeds and plants in the sand
Small silvery fish dart
prey for the bigger fish
careful to keep apart
not wanting to be bonefish
Follow them and wonder
what it would be like
to live here and ponder
on life while avoiding the pike
Here, even more, than on land
the rule is eat or be eaten
this is the real gangland
the lair of the mighty gudgeon
So, pause and reflect
life here in the raw
do not now deflect
else you end up in the jaw
Categories:
in the raw, blue, fish, water,
Form:
Rhyme
What have you two done,
I can see the age in your faces already,
oh you're so bold and smart
you silly and naive creatures,
sure, I sheltered you
kept you away from violence, jealousy, and pain,
do you have any idea what happens
in the raw evolution of life,
have you ever witnessed death
can you even conceive it, huh,
you're gonna feel the fire of rage
and the panic of embarrassment,
you're gonna wake in the frost of depression
and age into the shadows,
you're gonna fight for everything
that you need and love
and sometimes even that won't be enough
you and your children are going to hurt and be hurt
in ways that you can't believe,
my darlings, I love you,
but your natures have been changed
from roses to razors,
you will become grotesque gods unto yourselves,
however,
in the wilderness,
you will be able to create, to care, to love
but it will be so hard for you,
so hard to keep your hearts alive,
I'll be with you always,
your eyes are open to judgment now,
go on to the other side...
J.A.B.
Categories:
in the raw, creation,
Form:
Epic
Before the sun is fully up
Beside the window with my cup
I watch them come on silent wings
Those wild, beautiful, little things.
Each day they visit more and more
The feeder by my cabin door
Small clans of tiny Chickadees
Fluttering in by twos and threes
Rush to the feeder, then they search
Pecking and flitting perch to perch.
Moving too quickly to decide,
Their actions have me mystified.
A Chickadee does nothing straight,
He'll make a dash, then hesitate,
It's funny how his body works
In little pauses, little jerks.
He pecks, and suddenly departs
His flight is full of stops and starts.
He's up, he's down, then zig and zag
Like bird and breeze are playing tag.
Just as quick, on a sudden whim,
(Who can say what comes over him)
He'll stop - it's time to sit and sing.
This wild, whimsical, little thing.
He swoops up over hills of air
And turns sharp corners that aren't there,
So quick to move, then quickly pause
I think he lives like this because
That's the way he's put together,
A speck of life, of flesh and feather.
Yet, through the raging winter storm
With nothing much to keep him warm,
Beneath a wing, his head will rest
The fire in that small wild breast
Defies the frost the cold night brings
And with the dawn, he wakes and sings.
From tales and legends, I would guess,
We've filled a fabled wilderness
With sounds of nature in the raw
As brutes do battle tooth and claw
In some harsh land of ice and snow
Where most of us don't care to go.
But the wild call that beckons me
Is a soft sweet song, chickadee-dee-dee.
Categories:
in the raw, animal, bird, imagery, inspirational,
Form:
Couplet