Best Inherited Poems
John had his mom’s eyes
Inherited her kindness --
Keen sense of humor
Sweet sister-in-law
They shared love for animals --
She and I still close
Never met father
John tried to avoid his fate --
Died young like his dad
*Entry for Dr. Ram’s “In-Laws” contest
Categories:
inherited, family
Form:
Senryu
C_ Characteristic traits are genetic
H_ He inherited being compassionate
A_ A mouth he had, used language so graphic
R_ Ruff mix vulgarity and passionate
A_ At desperate time in his troubled life
C- Contact with the Savior opened his eyes
T_ Touched by the loving Father eased his strife
E_ Eternally changed became very wise
R_ Raised from the common became angelic
I_ Intellect possessed beyond his learning
S_ Studied God's word to levels to be drastic
T_ Time on earth extended God's rewarding
I_ Inherited characteristic grand
C_ Coupled with Holy Spirit makes man
Contest name:As You Like It
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
inherited, father, inspirational, life, lovetime,
Form:
Sonnet
Inherited the dreams of lunatics!
like a "straw eaten up" blowing by wind
to mind's eye," so I rushed
cleaves the heart whiteness in anger
from the upcoming days.
Ah _ oh( lunatics' wisdom)
How many wounds you left in the mind!
When submerged herein
So! I reached a half crazed,
and half sagacious.
Inherited the dreams of lunatics!
So fantasies came drunk,
like a ghost roams ecstatic hilarious
Not for the mind - eloquent
Nor ear sober.
Laughing and crying
Then crying and laughing
Then cry
An exquisite images without hypocrisy,
Nor unambiguous as if a kinsfolk road
became Straight.
Shouted in amazement for a half a minute,
and then died.
So there is no grief fueled by or poultice.
Categories:
inherited, crazy,
Form:
Prose Poetry
A good spirit in him abides
From birth his dispostion same
Nice, gentle character inside
A spirit born with love aflame
A spirit born with love aflame
Others born without good character
Only through rebirth good proclaim
Become great traits inheritor
Become great traits inheritor
Spread an awesome Spirit of love
Expand pure like honey's nector
Not only once but always think of
Inspired by contest:
Categories:
inherited, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
A MEANING FOR EACH DAY
The long-distance run begins again
From its dawning burst upon
The route of each unique day —
Evolving, exerting, energizing, elating.
The far distances: a crossing from
Vague inspirations to verses, persisting
Like the birds that squawk at treetops,
Wondering how their cousins sweetly sing?
The deepest longings prayerfully
Reach up:
thought to motion,
With the blessed guidance to rise
Out of self:
from kernel to cosmos—
Like a Phoenix springing to a marathon
Flight across continents with
sea waves mirroring the soar and
Gracing spread wings
With strength for the unfolding search.
Our earth-born lives, bearing
our spirt quests may
Bloom into a growing of faith,
and to a consequential want
To follow in Christ’s deliberate,
Loving footsteps…Fully perceiving
Others while the run of hours
…pauses
To touch the Shepherd…
Learning that starting points and finishing
Lines are neither one beyond us…
By inches or instants,
Wearing our inherited,
ancient, wind-lifted capes, our
Every step taken, and hope given teaches:
Meaning is the bed
of the very paths
we choose to walk.
———————————————————-
(C) sally young Eslinger 1/22
Categories:
inherited, bird, christian, imagery, joy,
Form:
Free verse
inherited
everlasting
bountiful
there is no
shining sun
because it is not
the sun’s turn
to shine.
instead these stars
glisten
and sparkle
from heavens
we stretch our arms
and faith
to touch
and shine down
on this earth,
this divine planet,
which houses the baby
who has already
inherited
the weight of the world
and it’s humans
and it’s human sins.
this manger feels
too soft,
too first-breath fresh
for me to not feel
the contrast
of a pure
and golden Son
against a cruel
and unforgiving
backdrop of crimes
of flesh and guts.
his mother is weeping,
tears of exhaustion
from hours of birth
and tears of joy
from being the mother
of the Savior,
and my heart crescendos
to see
a bruised and crying babe
amongst soft cascades
of gold
and frankincense
and myrrh.
joseph himself,
the father of the son
of the Father,
idles at the top
of the trough with a hand
on the top of
his first child’s head
and smiles at us
with a comforting sweeping gesture
meant to drive us closer.
my feet and
my soul
ache to crawl;
to fall to my knees
and drag myself to the edge
of the hay
littering
this impromptu church
and bow my head to
worship
the everlasting light
and love
and redemption
of my newborn Deliverer
jesus christ.
as i reach the edge
of this makeshift crib
i am blessed
upon blessings
to see the small upturn
of the messiah’s lips
as he finally
succumbs to the first slumber
of a righteous
and bountiful life
filled with whores
and betrayal
and forgiveness
and adoration so rich it pours
from his eyes
and his mouth
and his hands
to heal his people
and bring us joy
because our lord God
deigned us able to save,
if only we have the
heart to change.
and when his life ends,
blood dripping down an unrelentingly
strong brow from
beneath a crude crown of thorns,
hands and feet
impaled against cedar,
pine,
and cypress
grown upon,
within,
his Father’s
green earth,
this divine planet,
ribs broken open
by spears declared
the unrepentant
love and light and forgiveness
of the true Jehovah
and shined down on us
the shame and irony
of killing the man
meant to save us from
murder.
Categories:
inherited, christian, christmas, god, heaven,
Form:
Free verse
Wearing our tribal skirt
I’m reminded of my grandmother
who has bequeathed me rich distinct cultural heritage.
Adorned with our traditional costume
my heart is pleased, imagining my Lola*, my Mom’s mother
smiling delightfully, beholding her granddaughter proud of her roots.
Midst the nostalgia brought by such clothing
I see myself beside Lola’s bedside, listening to her
as she would vividly narrate heroic acts of fellowmen during the war.
Having in my possession a so-called “heirloom”
my gratitude to Lola is intensified through virtues instilled
by Mama, reverberating with, “I learned those from Nanang**.”
Praising God for His blessings
I’ll value the piece of treasure I inherited
my Lola has passed on, along legacy of a good name.***
*Lola-the word we use to address our “Grandmother”
**Nanang-My mother’s term of endearment for “Mother.”
***Proverbs 22:1 A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.
March 15, 2021
1st place, "I Remember" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Malabika Ray Choudhury; judged on 3/17/2021.
Categories:
inherited, appreciation, blessing, christian, god,
Form:
Tristich
We never saw it coming, we were all at university
studying to be the future intelligentsia.
We wanted to be lawyers, accountants, and bankers,
we wanted to be science teachers, podiatrists, and politicians
and we made it!
We had the degrees and the diplomas. The recognition
and applause of a grateful nation.
Yet, a creeping uncertainty came upon us,
barbers, beauticians, plumbers, and contractors
began to look at us with pitying eyes.
It slowly dawned upon even us
that our kind of intelligence
was synthetic, by-rote, and inflexible.
We could only see what we were taught,
and we were taught by the self-deluded.
Ordinary working people began to see through us.
Their minds were growing perceptive, insightful,
and far-seeing. There's were the real intellect
and comprehension.
theirs the true understanding and acumen.
Life itself had led them into seeking questions
we had never thought to ask.
At first they attempted to transfer their greater acuity
onto us, but we just did not get it at all.
We were not prepared for real thinking.
We knew though that we still ruled society,
and so we kept telling ourselves how smart we were
while all those other's that did not have our book smarts
tried hard to ignore our ever increasing dumbness.
Categories:
inherited, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Each of us is a warrior:
For earthly survival,
For the Lord of our soul.
What determines the time of service
For each individual warrior?
Conscription? Consumption?
Was this culprit a volunteer?
An honorable discharge
Is really all the old warrior seeks.
In the end the medals and commendations
Don't matter
As iconoclasts, gathering dust at the last.
In the material form they represent
Symbols, of the warrior's human achievement,
Rusting, deteriorating, without a hint
Of what they originally meant.
Value not the icon,
But hold it close to your heart.
It represents the culmination of humanity,
And your memory of it, the most precious part.
Categories:
inherited, devotion, family, inspirational, life,
Form:
Free verse
My blessed dearest mother was a hoarder of food,
our cupboards and freezer where over flowing;
this inherited "greed" in me I have subdued,
rest in peace mom- MY battle is still on going !
___________________
June 21, 2022
Poetry/Quatrain/Epigram/My "Inherited" Greed
Copyright Protected, ID 06-1467-014-21
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Greed
sponsor, Margarita Lillico, Judged 06/30/2022
Categories:
inherited, life,
Form:
Quatrain
She moves elegantly, strolling, walking, running, being free, being full, full of pride,
full of ambition, full of everything except me.
She has vision, she has dreams, so she sacrifices, because she has needs, she cuts and she
bleeds, she takes it all in order to achieve.
She loves but leaves it be, the 9 to 5 has more need, more need than the need for me.
She takes no vow, no for better, no for worse, she works the blocks to fill her empty
purse, and fills her belly and then pays the nurse.
Dollar bills, to pay bills, full spoons to feed babies, questions get maybes.
Filthy hands leave dirty prints, soft moans leave evidence of gentle caresses,and that
kiss.......................
Oh that kiss.
Soft lips mending, tongues blending, till wills be bending, shocks and impulses our brains
keep sending.
Inside cores melt, creating a feeling, subliminal, leaving me all to myself.
Inheriting the memories, memories you forgot, but I couldn't
Categories:
inherited, love
Form:
I was born with a foreign hunger, inherited from the shadows of those who were,
they placed a dream in my hand like a shining blade and told me to carve my future,
but the metal rusted in my deep sleep, leaving me to waver on paths of mist,
now I chase smoke through iron halls, where ambition drips
from the jaws of broken clocks, time defies me with a grin of merciless gears—
I run, and it devours every step, every moment stolen from me,
I am weary of digging graves and calling them milestones,
when each dug grave is just another reminder of what I have not been,
in a world of rusted dreams where choices are carved in cold stone,
and I, a traveler through stopped clocks, seek light among the ruins,
but only shadows answer me, whispering the burden of unfulfilled desires.
Categories:
inherited, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Passion filled envelope
passed from generations
stuffed with revelations
sealed with gar gum glue
Pockets emptied in it
trinkets, pendant copper
the shell encrusted stopper
to a flask of slow gin fizz
Secrets buried deeper
lipstick kissed and minted
songs of icy winter
echo crystal cracked
Gift to son or daughter
love alive from ancients
they'll pass it down if patient
and willing to fall in kind...
Categories:
inherited, imagination, life, love, passion,
Form:
Rhyme
There is so much pain around the world:
A burqa clad young girl returning from college
Riding a scooter, attempts to reach home sooner
But a huge truck rams her flimsy ride and she is torn
Into two. She calls home and tells them she is going away!
A sad young father with a babe in arms is boarding a bus
To return home from the free hospital to which he had taken
His baby for treatment. He finds he is unable to pay the fare:
His pocket is picked. Thieves waste no time on compassion.
There are cases of babies seized from despairing moms.
They mourn a world where they say:”Man eats man!”
Women going to work lauding their gold chains
Are assaulted and their precious ornament seized
In a moment by well dressed thieves who come
Riding, chain snatching and fleeing on motor bikes!
Categories:
inherited, allah, poems, poetry, wisdom,
Form:
Free verse
My child it is not you at fault ,
These feelings are not yours,
This situation isn’t yours to fear,
You have a special gift that means you feel what others feel,
Especially when others get too near,
The tears you cry,
The eyes you dry,
The blame you take on board
Emotions that I wish you never knew,
But even though it pains me so to see all that you feel,
I know that it’s a special part of you.
Categories:
inherited, emotions,
Form:
Free verse