Best Karen Poems
Nonchalant, the leaf whirls without care
On the wind it rides to somewhere
Tree-free, it flies with bird-flare
A swinging light feather
Kite without its string
Airy last fling
Roaming to
end in
new…
…new
trip where?
Heaven knows
Eagle eyes watch
wandering winds blow
on leaf’s air-current show
Released, rides to an unknown
Leaving its toils, freed at long last
Departs, dancing for the next recast…
(1/3/23 For Feel Free contest inspired by quote 7)
She should have been Hera, goddess queen of heaven, the sister-wife of
Zeus, king of the gods; she would have caught him one Friday night tipping
Out while she sleeps to visit one of his plumy wives and over 100 relations.
She would have said, “Sit down Zeus; let me inform you about the laws of
Property settlement and child support in heaven with a concrete poem.”
She would have straightened up Aphrodite, goddess of love and lust.
Especially when Aphrodite was caught red-handed making love to
Her son, Ares, the God of war, she probably would have said, “Now look
Here woman, quit messing with my son and creating all this rumblings in
Heaven with the gods.” I could see some Lanturne poems floating
She would have acted as the sister of Demeter, goddess of fertility,
Agriculture, and harvest, a sister of Zeus. Because she would have
Blessed women with children who need them, and also farmers
With great harvest and crops to feed their families and sustain the
People across the land, by waving a haiku poem in her healing hands
She would have screamed as the sister of Hermes, the crooked cattle-rustling
God; son of Zeus and Maia, who stole his brother, Apollo’s cows, then
Lied, and swore before Zeus, their father, “That even if I knew who stole
Apollo’s cattle, I would not even accept a reward for finding the thief.”
She would have gave her crooked brother, and son of Zeus, a flying senryu
She would have been with Athena, the virgin goddess of wisdom, reason, and
Heroic endeavors; the daughter of Zeus, and Titan goddess of wise counsel
Métis, especially when Athena appeared onto Swift-footed demigod,
Achilles, and told him, “Sheathe your sword and defeat Agamemnon, the
Greek king with words of wisdom.” I could see some wise epigram poems
She was probably counseled by Apollo, her brother, god of music, healing, and
Poetry; the son of Zeus and the Titan goddess Leto. Because she has cared
For the sick in hospital emergency rooms, and has also stimulated us for years
With her poetic muse. She has counseled many along the way and has calmed
Many storms with loving charm. “Hail my sister in Christ—Karen O’Leary!”
Happy birthday angel and wishing you many more for years to come!
Kaleidoscopic colours of your affectionate heart paint the
Awe-inspiring rainbows across my world
Raising my broken spirits, instilling hope in my damaged heart,
Enveloping my fragile form with pure love and
Nourishing my soul with such passion and care-reforming the withered corpse within me, into a beautiful new life
_
Mrs Pilkington
I cannot put into words what I would like to say to you. You have touched
my life in so many ways and I will never be able to thank you enough for
what you have done for me. Your constant support, encouragement and the
amazing love and compassion that you have shown me, inspires me to live each
day to the fullest. I am incredibly blessed to have you in my life. You are extremely special to me!
Tons of love
Amy, ***
across the
street
all
time
stops
for
the
instance
passing
by
diners
in
the
night
Birthday parties are fun for young teens,
long they've waited: it's time for cheers!
Balloons are dangling from the ceiling,
slow music plays throughout the Hall,
chatting girls woo boys...something
of romantic nature is rapidly brewing;
watchful mothers stand against the wall.
Where's Karen? Everybody starts worrying;
somebody runs outside, " She's coming! "
A sigh of relief runs across delighted faces.
The door swings open, Karen in a wheelchair
appears, it's a vision of a ghost much too fair:
sunken eyes, shaved head that shows her skull;
all the gests greet her, she used to be a doll!
Karen waves at them, perceiving sad glances;
she expected to see more cheerful faces...
searching inside, she feels great sadness
instead of deep sympathy for her illness.
And as planned the party goes on all noon,
cheer returns on Karen's pale face, she forgets
insidious thoughts that battle inside; after all it's
her birthday party and she wants to have fun!
Mark comes forward with a boyish shyness,
and invites her to dance: it's her favorite song,
and that makes her vibrate with life's gladness;
although it's brief, it couldn't be more thrilling!
Written on 2/ 7/ 2016
“Our own Festival of Youth Sport reminds
us that the potential to achieving the highest
starts with home grown talent.” It's no jest.
Karen works for the Girl Guides, the finest.
She has spina bifida causing weak legs,
And started shooting in the year of 1984,
With the Duke of Edinburgh, open door,
The top award scheme where you core.
Stoke Mandeville introduced her to guns,
And she first shot in 1991 at the Euros,
Which were there with Belgium portfolios,
In the big West Flanders city of Bruges.
Karen made her debut at the Paralympics
Of Barcelona in Spain in the year 1992,
And went on to enjoy more Paras, due:
Three - Atlanta, Sydney and Rio with ado.
She thoroughly enjoyed Operation Raleigh,
Which was a disability trek to two islands,
Over the Atlantic to Turks, Caicos sands,
Where she dived among the coral strands.
A Netflix and chill night with Karen Speld my sister,
then a ridiculous game of that ludicrous Twister-
Hands awry and bent, Sam's manhood she did touch,
she did hit her head, but died from laughing too much!
A Funny Epitaph Poetry Contest
Jesse Rowe
September 17, 2018
It’s only just begun
Desperate family
The Carpenters were fun
Closer to perfection
Like honey on your sleeve
They stuck together well
So happy we believed
Until it crumbled down
Her heart gave in so young
I took my dog for a walk on the beach.
Ran into Karen and she started to preach.
Plastic bags times three; filled with doggie debris.
People polluting the beach she decreed.
I smiled politely turning to continue on my way.
Apparently, she had a whole lot more to say.
I listened disinterested and mostly ambivalent.
Thinking, how could anyone be so ignorant?
When a seagull swooped by and did something magnificent.
It was the perfect rejoinder to this entire incident.
Without displaying too much emotion;
I wondered, how much of that gets dropped in the ocean?
Karen’s face was filled with disgust.
Now a parting shot just was a must.
Imagine if we tried to bag the lot of it.
Could we fill our oceans with all that plastic?
I tipped my hat and headed on my way.
Wishing Karen, a most wonderful day.
Mother of four
Grandmother to five
Married to Alan
To heaven she'll arrive
With the Philadelphia's Eagles
They will fly her so high
To heavens door
But there will be no goodbye
For with the Angels she'll write
As they read her poems
Inspiration she leaves
In her Poetry Soup home
I never knew you Karen
But in my heart i could tell
A loving family mam
In one word, excelled
In memory of Karen Feist, we will miss you
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-3.php
Minnisota Twins
Win elusive World Series
Two Thousand and Ten
Dedicated To Karen O'leary and Her Daughter Megan
and Baseball Fan #2 Mr. O'leary ( I'm # 1 )
(this poem was inspired by the three word title, which was stamped upon a vintage typewriter platen that I recently purchased.)
Karen Anderson is…
stamped upon my platen, forever to be seen.
I wonder what she thought, and where she's been?
Perhaps she typed her own name,
thinking only later on,
that no one might quite find her,
with no paper drawn upon.
Yet here she is, sweet Karen,
and I wonder just what she is.
Is she drawn and quartered, married?
Is she paralyzed with fear?
That some may come one day,
and recognize her fear?
Might every breath be chaos now,
with death close, ever near'r?
Yes! Karen Anderson is,
and shall be to the end.
Will you and I be here or gone
when Karen on this platen fades?
So here we contemplate sweet Karen,
sweet Karen on this roller plate.
A typed omission of her past,
a stamped reminder of her fate.
~TH~ --- March 11, 2015
http://wrongwaywriteway.com
Calling on Karen:
Come to the water
In majesty after the fire;
Fourth degree flare refreshed a memory.
Undaunted hero of my heart inspired dreams of liberation.
Calling on Karen:
To console shattered lives at the edge of apathy.
Colored chalk of my soul crushed and crinkled,
Celebrating destiny drawn in Pentecostal praise, and peace.
Did you know hope was entrenched under truth?
Calling on Karen:
Your students hunger for the school of life.
Impart upon us your wisdom.
Impart upon us your optimism.
Impart upon us the best gift, the awakening.
Amen
*Note: Most of the words come from the title of one of Karen's poems.
While I lie on this stone wall
hand almost too weary to write
I can see tiny ants scurrying about on the pavement
curious mobile sesame seeds exploring an empty bottle
and the last few of the lonely afterschool crowd
shuffle into cars and drive away
here I sit, alone in my pondering
the wind and rustle in the trees
speaking to me and me only.
Upon this ground I have tread many times
many times have I, too, shuffled past nature with nary a thought
but today my senses are sharpened somehow through exhaustion and lack of
sleep
and the grounds speak to me with a voice and a soul
that no man could possess.
Weakness has made me aware of nature’s
awesome power. Sugar ants
crawl all over my leg and I pay no mind. For
the air smells and tastes green as the spider grass,
and the forest canopy shields my
fair skin from the sun.
Some people spend their whole lives looking for peace.
I have found peace here
no siren can rival the chirping of the birds
no bitter taste can wash away this sweetness
and all my pain is but a leaf carried away on the breeze.
This was for keeps for all we knew
so far away so long ago
I really fell in love with you
before you played the second show
White lace and grace and promises
Beguile? Belong? Betroth? Beseech?
it's best to do what momma says
so very close so out of reach
The moment when the slight girl sings
that lovely voice like scented smoke
like chocolate and cello strings
like molten gold or burnished oak
I know I've wasted too much time
the one thing that's in short supply
there'll never be another rhyme
and stars won't fall down from the sky
I tell myself I'm feeling old
there's nothing I can do about it
and what I've garnered unconsoled
of love is how to live without it
Why must our loved ones disappear?
Oh won't you say what laid you low?
I know that you're not really here
it's just that worn-out radio