Best Late Poems
Lately I have paused, pondering death
But I'm not fit for it's journey yet.
It's not that I loathe meeting death's kind
It will be, for me, an experience of a lifetime.
I've had one stupendous, lovely, awesome gift
A second chance at life I could not resist.
So tell me this... who's thinking of dying?
Color me rainbow. Rain falls, next, I'm smiling.
Lately I have paused, pondering death
It's out of my hands, my stem's length and breath.
All I have been, isn't all that I am
I've taken a stand to let The Source guide my hands.
I can claim to be a calico, claiming nine lives
Again, and again, I rise with clearer eyes.
I'd assume any form my Maker moves me to use
Would I be excused, if in your haven I refuse?
I am a flower, even in winter
Even in winter, I am a flower.
*
L i f e
I sense your perplexed pulse
within pirouetting pearls,
steeped in sinister streaks,
while fading sparks
of dulcet stars
swing from threads of darkness
on the verge of vertigo,
living in minutes
caught in the crawling contradiction
of tainted t i m e…
O’ f r a g i l e hummingbird,
I hear the hushed hymns
hovering through the ebony haze,
awaiting unlocked gates
adorned with regal rubies,
reflecting heaven that
sings of the sacred.
For in your lonely serenade,
in bittersweet solitude,
you raise fatigued feathers
to the alluring azure,
to heed the heartbeats
of the halcyon haven,
amidst your spirit
drowning in dreariness,
soaked in sadness,
counting cursed crystals
as blessings from the essence
of this endless enigma~
d r e a m gliding in drowsiness,
drenched in midnight terrors,
flowing between technicolor tercets,
etched in obsidian tears
within the raven prose
of Edgar Allen Poe,
oblivious to the table set,
serving chalices
brimming with
moonbeams and hope,
as you’ve long tasted
toxic embers from hellfires,
in a satanic sphere that knows
not the ingredients of peace,
consumed with hate and prejudice,
perhaps prewritten
from ashes seized
from the Hades inferno,
a spring stolen from the
valleys of dancing daffodils.
So let me waltz
beyond constellations of cruelty.
It’s too late to save the world,
to color the globe in lime green
and blooming blue,
as there is no winning
when the devil sits
on a throne of fickle flowers,
where snakes slither
through the narcissistic eyes
of the emperor~
dressed in deception,
eager to rule the weak and naive
with nothing but the scorching
heat of the serpentine sunsets,
bleeding venomous verses
upon your canvas
that pleads and prays
for compassionate clemency.
I feel the rising
of the merciful moon,
embracing the wolverine warmth,
filling the emptiness between
wicked lines,
k i s s e d by the weeping wind,
as purple phrases across pastel pages,
immortalize the poetic need to
paint the world with l o v e and lilac...
LATE AUTUMN HAIKU
they’re almost gone now
how brown, bare the branches look
some toys in the leaves
when rain turns to snow
how sad those two last roses
brave faces with tears
apples bruised apples
scattered on the frosted green
and this twiggy frown
music in the wind
late october’s final song
dancing red and gold
talk of winter now
old dog by a crackling fire
shutters rattle pings!
photo of dear dad
he loved that fulsome willow
fallen leaves marker
Dave Austin
late summer sunset -
floating in the cocktail glass
a slice of orange
Summer Haiku Contest
Hosted by Tania Kitchin
Placed in 21st place
29th June 2021
Out in the desert, late at night
The stars and moon are shining bright
The coyotes sing,
While crickets keep beat
Cool night's joy, replaces heat
The owl sets out on nightly quest
"Who, whoo's my meal?"
ever his jest
The man in the moon
witnessed escapes
Wild dashes
for thorn bush drapes
The merry stars
with twinkling eyes
Laughed at the hoot owl's
great surprise
Kangaroo rat leaps in delight
Out in the desert late at night
THE LATE HUMOROUS MANDELA
The late former President Nelson Mandela,
Was known as an extremely humorous fella,
A respected freedom fighter and leader,
Referred to her Majesty as Elizabeth, amusing many a reader.
ENTERED FOR EDUCATE ME WITH HUMOR – LEADER CLERIHEW POETRY CONTEST
24/1/2019
Dear fellow soup readers and judges. Having realized that line 4 did not adhere to competition rules I have edited and changed it.
Being Young
What is "young"......do what you want
regardless of what others think .....
Young....."wise", inexperienced and a lot to learn
Not sure or absolutely certain
No duties and no considerations to take,
just think of the day
Free as a bird, spread their wings and fly where you want
Flower Power
Make Love Not War
Peace & Love
Spending the day with good friends, sleeping under the stars
Not sure or absolutely certain
Today`s young people are not so simple,
there are liabilities - they have to go to schools
to keep up with modern society
School, work, homework and have time to social gatherings
They are not free as a birds, they can not fly where they want
Flower Power
Make Love Not War
Peace & Love
For those who are young at age
Being young, young in body and soul
It`s never too late.....Fly Where You Want.....Fly...
Have a wonderful day
Flower Power
Make Love Not War
Peace & Love
24. June 2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
oak’s coy hint of red
blushes shy leaves midst the green -
sunset steals day’s warmth
goldenrod plumes nod
as twilight shows off the stars -
the fire pit crackles
Susan Ashley
September 24, 2019
Happy Father’s Day to my Late Son Rob
My son, my sweet son, you now are at rest.
Of all fathers my son, you were the best!
Your son emulates you the best he can.
You taught him how to become a great man.
Almost twenty years you shared with your wife,
With family love you lived a great life.
Organs you donate will help others live,
A legacy you unselfishly give.
I am proud of you son, as you take part,
Some fortunate soul will live with your heart.
You tried to live and put up a great fight.
As you depart and go into the light,
Your sisters will miss you, you helped each one.
You were a great brother, my precious son.
You were only with us forty four years.
You’ll be remembered with love not our tears.
June 1, 2021
I wish all you Father’s a very Happy Father’s Day!
*This poem was written for my late son Rob who
had a severe stroke and was pronounced brain dead on
May 29, 2021. He saved over 6 lives by donating his
organs. Rob leaves behind my eleven year old grandson
Brody, and his wife Akiko. I want to thank each of you
who prayed for my son to recover. Thank you all for your
kind condolences.The love sent from my poetic family has
helped me greatly.
WHEN ALL THE WORLD IS QUIET
(It’s too late version)
When all the world is quiet
And the night is fully deep,
A mystic moon is watching
All the places underneath.
My thoughts like panthers moving
through the jungle, they do creep.
Among the lingering shadows
lies a naked hairy beast…
When all the world is quiet
Amid the pine trees night is dark,
The Hunter charges east-southeast
As Venus makes her mark.
But its not these welcome visitors
That wretched me from my sleep,
For they have come, the moving lights,
It’s their secrets I can’t keep.
When all the world is quiet
People would not believe
The shower of light, the dusting
Of illuminating cosmic debris;
“Not of this Earth”, I tell you,
“Embrace the night”, they implore.
But they often go to places
I’d rather not explore.
When all the world is quiet
Hairy beast meets Neo-man
They’ve been coming here for millennia,
Our consciousness to expand.
Too many gods, countless laws
And many borders defended,
The message they send is simple,
Life as we know it has ended.
When all the world is quiet
Listen if you can
Peace and love resound over
The noise of clumsy man.
Aspire to the Divine, my child,
Let children lead the way.
The music of the spheres is love,
Oh, let the music play.
A short Poem as
A Tribute to My Lost Wife.
Countless voices and memories
May get foggy or dim
By the flow of time stream,
But where do they get erased,
From the continuous petals of mind,
What to say of friends, even life partners,
Get lost, while walking on the path of life,
But, their images and figures,
On the petals of mind,
Continue to spread their fragrance,
Till we breath and live in this world,
To inspires us to fight, the darkness all around
To support those, who are losing courage and hopes
This is the mantra of life
I got it from my lost loved ones and
from my lost wife Shashi.
.
Even if, rocks become obstacles,
To destroy into pieces,
All the bright figures and shapes,
Want to lay rope to bind,
To bind the stream of art and writing,
Which has immense power and force,
But where has anyone stopped
The flow and current of a powerful river
Or has closed in his fist
The beautiful fragrance flowing in the air.
Ravindra K Kapoor
New Raipur India 17 07 2020
* On this day I lost my wife in 2017.
If you have to apologize, it's already too late
What you've done is unfixable; don't think you're so great
If you feel mere words can mend a broken heart
Then you've learned nothing, you fool, from its tearing apart
if you've fired a person and want to make amends
Find him a new job; that's the right message to send
If you've screamed at your kid, reduced him to tears
It'll take years to overcome what you've taught him to fear
Whatever you've ruined, be it a life or a love
Can only be mended by Mercy from Above
April 30, 2019
Entry: "APOLOGY" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
I knew
she loved me
when she confessed
her fear
she didn't
***
“Grief is like the ocean. The waves ebb and flow. Sometimes the water is calm. Other times it's turbulent. In order to survive, I had to learn to swim. In moments when I struggled with massive waves of grief, I rode it out.”
Dana Arcuri
When the pearl moon is sinking
and the sea dreams in silence,
when the skies reflect
the sunrise within sighs,
I close my eyes and unlock
my grieving heart.
There, your sincere smile glows
like a string of golden pearls,
and your song, an echoing melody,
while jasmine rain croons
into the mourning mists.
And I whisper to the stars:
show me what it's like in heaven,
where angels and fairies
sway to your vanilla laughter,
for I am still healing from
the shadows of your demise.
I remember,
I was a teenage tempest
dressed in crusts of raven,
but you saw
unicorns and butterflies
soaring above
whirling waves of angst.
and wove my darkness
with acrylic glitter.
You were the antidote
to my bleeding ink.
you were the sakura spring
among my tattered twigs,
you watched me laugh
into the gothic duskiness.
Somehow seeking fireflies
within my summer maze,
did illuminate your weathered time,
like rainbow roses,
engrossed in emerald empathy.
You always knew the
right phrase to rhyme,
subtle syllables to
write every wrong.
You were my comfort
on lonely days.
The uncle, I cherish,
so young and charismatic…
Orchids in your
orchard still sprout~
flaunting their colors
in your mauve memory,
and your seraphic aura lingers
as the magnetic essence
of eternal warmth.
Now I am draped in
mementos and euphonious wind-chimes,
emanating the fragrance
of evergreen grass and soulful sunflowers.
Someday, I will find my way
to your empyrean home,
where you reside in poetry and affection…
Taking a walk by the lovely lake
under the canopy of the sunlight
watching its effect on the water
makes one wish never-ending night
With your loved one hand in hand
thinking only of one’s deep affection
wishing never to let go of your grip
feeling assured this is a pure connection
The night's atmosphere so haunting
making each one’s love to inspire
stillness is so totally enrapturing
a moment you never want to tire
Consider well this providential act
that brought us both to be as one
stand amazed this all happened
by a divine hand, this has done
This is a wonder one has to behold
love fully pictured by this late walk
love so beautifully meant to share
memories that a kiss could not block
(walking hand in hand!)