Best Inspired Poems
this wind
how it changes direction -
my fickle mind
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Basho Inspired Haiku Contest
© 8th January 2022
If 2012 prophesies prove true
And Earth’s life cycles again renew
Mysteries of man will be more than a few
Challenges may await future life forms
With intellects far surpassing our norm
Created to live without doing harm
For if they decipher man’s history
What will they make of our great mystery
The one we refer to as bigotry
Black labs, gold retrievers live side by side
Wild stallions and mustangs on prairies ride
Both red ants and black, free to colonize
Man’s refusal to accept differences
To wiser beings may make no sense
What in man’s makeup can give it credence?
Earth’s subsequent creatures may reproduce
Not needing two sexes to call a truce
So mating rituals may be pursued
A single-sex species might not comprehend
Why women workers were paid less than men
And why “free speech” was not just a given
Questions would most certainly arise
How a believer in God denies
Rights to free worship without compromise
And how could so many wars be waged
Evoking God’s name in death-march crusades
With killing, torturing in every age
Indeed such mysteries in man’s history
Would leave a perplexing legacy
Sure to confound any new species
New cultures may thrive on diversity
Of religion and genealogy
And speak of our inferiority
Note: This is dedicated to Christopher Higgins whose poems about prejudice inspire readers
to do more than just think about one of the greatest ills in our society.
Inspired muses reach out from the page
To touch the hearts and minds of those who read
Their presence in descriptive rhymes, a sage
In words of ink your thoughts become a seed
I wonder if it's ever crossed your mind
Someone in years to come might feel your muse
Will it be inspiration they will find
Or will your words just leave them more confused?
And yet we bleed our muse to feel the high
Then cover up the blood in metaphors
We make them laugh, so no one sees us cry
Those fears we hide in words forevermore
But muses rarely ever get the blame
Cause down below, they wisely sign your name.
by Daniel Turner
You can probably tell I've always been inspired by Slim Shady
By the way I rhyme words and the fact my pen's crazy
I'm the equivalent to Jason Voorhees listening to the Marshall Mathers LP with a pen in his hand instead of a Machete
This is a horror movie on paper and I don't think you're ready
You want to dress it up, well I'll jump out of your fashion catalogue
I'm happy to stand out, forget hiding I don't need camouflage
I got in my own way too many times before and I used to self sabotage
No more though, you may want to duck and hide when I let my pen's ammo discharge
I'm a one man army,bring your whole battle squad
You should know by the way I put words together that I'm a scrabble god
Should I rhyme simpler and dumb it down because these days the dumbest people and ideas get the biggest views
This generation need things simple, and handed to them, they don't want to look for hidden jewels
These days people get everything Misconstrued
Kids today seem to think the best rapper is the richest dude
I don't care about a Kardashian or an Amber Rose or who is kissing who
my dad left me with issues and fears of abandonment
I just want to wake up to my dream girl wearing my shirt and making me sandwiches
Have her look at me like I'm the first drop of rain after a drought
Forget the past and future, I'd rather just focus on the matters of now
tell Cupid if he shoots me again to make it Demi Lovato
I wouldn't say it to his face but Brock Lesnar looks like Johnny Bravo
People throw shots these days and they're barely Vodka
My pen is a magic wand that makes me poetry's Harry Potter
Some won't like that I'm bringing rap style punchlines to poetry
but even when I'm writing for fun and joking I still speak openly
Unsure if I had writers block or if I've been lazy
But I'm back now and my pen's crazy
You can all probably tell by the way I rhyme that I've been inspired by Slim Shady
Rays of sunlight awaken and skies of sapphire inspire, when mother lies back with eyes veiled, breathing out life and breathing in spirit. She is the fertile earth and boundless sky. She glides through eternity, rising and falling. Her hair, once the color of midnight, now shines silver like beams from the full moon, and the stars encircling her, illuminate creation, igniting dreams and enchanting sleepless nights. As we, who no longer walk barefoot upon the earth, busy ourselves, forgetting to lift our eyes in witness to her majesty and her beauty and her grace. Our hearts still beat in unison with her essence. Beneath the stars, we walk upon the same dusty earth as our ancestors. The sky rumbles all around us with echoes of the past, and in stillness, she feels the knees of the forgotten pressed against her chest giving thanks for her nurturing breath.
spirits veil her eyes -
drifting through sapphire sky
constellations align
*Haibun form inspired by Susan Seddon Boulet’s Gaia
(for Debbie Guzzi’s Free Verse, Prose, Haibun Contest, 11/1/2014)
I encountered her on a dark stormy night
Her huge trout like lips were a scary sight
Strands of white spittle formed on angry lips
huge folds of fat spilled over her wobbly hips
With scaly grey skin and blood red eyes
and legs so fat they chafed her thighs
Hair tangled and matted like limp seaweed
She reeked like a fish of an ancient breed
Reaching out for me with her claw like nails
Slime dripped from her hands like rancid snails
I tossed her a coin and hurried on my way
She’s not been seen since that stormy day
03-28~17
You woke at the stroke of midnight
Brain buzzing, "You simply MUST write!
You are filled with desire
Your muse is on fire
Creativity, you should never fight!
Each poem’s been penned by yourself
Not stolen off a high bookshelf
And you know PS rules
(Ignore all the blog fools)
And always be true to thyself
You’ve written ten poems ~ hooray!
In journals your work should not stay
So post ten poems on soup
It may inspire our group
Keep posting and do it YOUR way!"
winter’s breath on window pane - crystal flowers bloom
Quiet, pensive, waiting, from out of nothing, a flash, dancing!
Back and fourth, faster, bolder, more beautiful, more radiant…
The sound envelops, and the beauty firmly wraps its hands around my ears…
Relevance and resounding, growing, pulsing, whipped into a fever!
And then easing back just a bit, like a rest to enjoy some perfect nectar of echoes.
Then back again to churn, not with blades, but with brushstrokes.
The pulsing art grabs my soul and I sway to the rhythm, the life, the light…
All around me, so necessary is this, something so pure and powerful.
Flex and twirl in the rays of sunshine, on coming the clouds and thunder!
Pounding out the feeling, the pace is relentless, but in my arms, pushing, harder!
Squeezing ever ounce of love from the air, the earth, the fire and then easing again.
Dripping with sweat, a deep breath, another, still moving but slower now.
More deliberate, but still full and open, slowly, gently, slightly and then quiet.
In lovely riddles you speak of Goddesses,
those held above the world.
For each of us I feel you would find a way,
to bring us back a star.
Glowing bright,
you would pass that orb into our gentle hands,
to grow as children would
above the falty of man.
You speak in lovely riddles
and forget to include yourself,
for if we are such Goddesses,
you must be a God yourself.
Shall we guilty claim
a rose, as her beauties rain?
when suppressing her prickles
floods of her blood
bedew her roots
absorbed in grace.
Shall we banish beaming scents
of a rose rising in light?
when flourishing wonders
and streams of delight
flowing into human veins
avidly captured beyond words.
Shall we a beholder blame
for admiring in shining light a rose?
when many a reason
grant noble human hands
to hold an evergreen rose
rejoicing at divine creation.
Shall we a rose deny
a deep inner desire
to serve and give?
Bearer of Aphrodite and Venus Love
showy but unrevealing
transcends words what she conveys.
Shall I Euterpe invoke
my rose to inspire?
with sacred music
words above the clouds
penetrating fervent hearts
that never leave the heavens of poetry.
August 11th, 2018
In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions
Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples we chase
and beds we lie
draped in sadness
and shapes of
poetic happenstance
Tear drop vinaigrette
spiced of leftover lifetimes
drizzled on leafy desperation
bids a tired farewell
before time collects
the deserved rewards
Woods enthuse me,
Bring me to a dancing state.
Lilt me, lift me, bring me back to my soul mother.
Bring me home, in pure joy and excitement.
I adore you, Woods.
Your fox, your eagle, your moss, your deer.
I am one with them, for I am one with you, and
We are all a part of this universal oneness
Mother sky and Mother meadow
Was there ever a more cosmic place in this
Fantasy world that some think is the real world?
Let me dance and sing and throw my arms into the air,
Playing enthusiastically into your eternal oneness,
Reveling in your stumps, branches, and the roots that
Tie Mother Earth to this heart-felt place.
Let others be of this world. Let me be ethereal,
A faerie whose wings are dancing and prancing in
perfect harmony with the heartbeat of the forest,
My savior, my friend, the pulse of the woods.
Nurturing my soul in joyfulness.
May I always be in awe of her.
Always.
*
hold
on to
prayer, it
elicits
H O P E
***
Entering contests isn’t a race
First past the post may not get a place
Don’t make it a mission
To get first position …
Attacking sponsors is a disgrace
Written after reading F J Thomas's blog AFTERAFFECTS OF HOSTING A CONTEST
30th May 2015