Best Larks Poems


Premium Member larks hiku

larks soar autumn's sky

as sun follows prairie rain . . .

wild larkspur sparkles
Form: Haiku

Larks

The tangled sadness of souls lost 
Between Heaven and Earth, 
Eternally on their way, 
Lifting upwards, 
Soaring, 
Climbing. 
Only to feel the ground’s pull, 
The unseen ropes. 
Trapped in intermediation. 

They have left us without leaving, 
Departed without arriving, 
No sweet Lethe for them, 
No afterlife among ethereal 
Beauties bathed in eternal light, 
No rest in a perfect balance, 
Outside the toss of seasons. 

So this is purgatory, 
This hell of a half-way house. 
Stretched out in an 
Agony of elongation, 
We can sometimes see them 
In the wriggle of smoke 
In striated clouds. 
They are the larks, perhaps, 
That dive into the sky and climb 
Climb 
Climb 
Until their frightened tiny frantic panic 
Sends them spiralling down 
Down 
Down 

To the thin air over the cruel stubble 
Of dead wheat.
© Paul James  Create an image from this poem.

Larks Fall

A lark smiles and chats
With sunrays in Ankara 
Hunter shoots it dead

Vengeance in a truck
Mows down people in Berlin
In Christmas shopping

Pain in pink ribbons
Thorns in vengeful souls stubborn
Sun and moon look on
_________________________________
21/12/2016
Form: Haiku


Happy Larks 1st Poem

Pondering past midnight I rest unsure
If my thoughts and rhymes would be a cure
I seem to have displaced my pen and papers
Don’t’ have a thick candle, only tapers 
A famous poet is my envision
I have cataracts, I’ll need a re-vision.

Can’t decide whether to rhyme or write in prose
Maybe it will be a masterpiece, who knows?
When the words come into focus
I lose them so quickly,   like hocus pocus.

Most often I write in the present tense
Sometimes in a dialogue or even nonsense!
A title name takes some time to decide
Sometimes it’s perfect or it can be cockeyed.
  
This oil lamp provides me with adequate light
I need to stay awake most all night,
I need a word that rhymes with pappy
I know, I’ll use a dwarf’s name of ‘happy’.

So happy and pappy will be in this line
‘Oh my gosh’, Oil in the lamp is low; I’m out of time,
What will I make of this unfinished classic?
Will I get the Pulitzer Award or a jar of pickles from Vlasic?

Perhaps someday someone will pick up this book
Go flipping thru the pages with a frustrating look,
As it stands now, I’m left in the dark
I’ll just end it here, pen name: 
Happy Lark.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Larks

larks' symphony soars 
in unison with west winds~
celestial chorus 

_________________________________
Notes: Larks are known for their melodious singing. They also sing while they are flying, unlike most other birds, who only sing when perched. This indicates cheerfulness and reminds us to find joy in our own lives. Seeing a meadowlark is good news for the viewer, because the lark brings abundance and impending harvest.(Info credits to www.pure-spirit.com)


16 August 2021

Songbird haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
2nd place
© JCB Brul  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Haiku

A Larks Song

Sing me a song because my heart yearns to grieve. Sing me a song so my eyes might shed the tears my body detains.

Dearest lark, my souls songbird, I wish to be consumed by you'r dreary melody. Spare me this. agony and sing to me, I beg of thee, So I might no longer hear the bleeding of reacurring Pang.
© Dw Hart  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Happy Larks Fifth Poem

You remember me from my past books
I remember you from your scouring looks 
No sales were made; I landed a job that’s not obscure
selling newspapers on the corner is my entrepreneur  

Sales begin turning up and the stand had a name
“birds eye view”  was the unique game.
Hung up feeders around the shack
I knew now I had a knack. 

I had a plan to attract the attention
Music of nature was my new rendition
Birds gathered in numbers and sang their tunes
People had changed from being like prunes.

Sales are climbing and I got a paycheck
Benefits didn’t matter, what the heck
Chirps and whistles from my feathered friends
Will stop writing and throw away my pens.

Folks gathered around while the birds were fed
Papers and magazines were being read
From town to town people became aware
of this news stand in the corner square.

Food for the birds began to be brought
Standing room only or some would squat,
The more birds that sang, the more papers I sold
Money added up to a pot of gold

Song sparrows and warblers were dishing out tunes
My life hadn’t been better for many moons
Bought some new threads and a felt hat
I heard I looked nice from all the chit-chat.

I needed a name for my corner stand
‘happy Lark’s  news & birds on hand’
that seemed  to inspire the town folk
the coins dropped, I won’t be broke.

Entertainment plus reading equals pleasure
Where else can you go by any measure?
The folks in town all gather around
to read and listen to birds from Motown

Nevertheless and furthermore I am free
from writing books that weren’t worth tea
birds in the trees  are worth more at my stand
I am Happy Lark with a bird in my hand.
Form: Rhyme

Happy Larks 4th Poem

Have nothing to say, but lots to write
Can’t see in the dark, will wait till its light
The birds are still nesting, there’s nothing to do
But before I do back to bed, how are you?

Happy Lark is poverty stricken, nothing would sell
Maybe it was due to the words that I had misspelled,
I sold ice cream and homemade cookies
Made up some stands, but I was just a rookie.

Oh, what a life it has been for me
I went penniless, I added no plea
Tried standing on the corner with my tin cup
Getting  a few coins and a bite from a Labrador pup.

Tried selling newspapers at the busy rest stop stand
Opened a cigar store but only with no brand
Life is hard to get ahead these days
Need to find some better ways.

I still like to write, but no one wants to read
If they only knew that I’m really in need
If I could make an addendum to the Book of Kells
I would be honored by the ringing of the bells.

I don’t despair my attempts, for I have achieved
It’s better to have fallen, that’s what I believe
If the tire is flat, you won’t go places
Once it’s fixed, you’ll be back in the races.

The hill in life is monumental, such energy to climb
But I made it, and now you see my overdue rhyme!
Form: Rhyme

Happy Larks 3rd Poem

I am about to leave camp in the thunder
If lightning strikes me it will be a blunder
My quills are bent, the ink well is dry
This being my last poem, I know you won’t cry. 

No need to create a book jacket for my book
People wouldn’t take the time to look,
I’ll leave out the year it was printed
People would skip over pages and be contented. 

Although writing provided me with a rewarding fulfillment
My styles and skills were less than diligent,
I shed some light for you to see
Enjoy what you do and be happy like me.

  Thank you to those who read my books!  

         You learn how to overcome adversities
            Conquering goals, becoming steadfast
                  Enjoy the achievement to which you strived for
Form: Rhyme

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