Best Lean To Poems
Armed with chainsaws in the field, two young men are shirtless guests
with shoulders bronzed by sun and sweat.
The timbre in the August sun has scattered birds and stirred unrest
The tree they'll slay has leaves of gold,
lacing branches frail and old, - but now its time is spent
Rising from his afghan nest, a man peers out the window glass
to witness as the death unfolds.
As one who brought the seedling home, he waits to see the giant fall
He holds his breath, but not his tears. Age and illness hems the years.
And just as earth might moan in pain, the tree comes tumbling down
There was a day, not long before, ....before his war began
Back then he could lift a saw like that, ..hold it skillfully, carefully, casually
Angle down, - angle up, - cut a wedge, - hear it crack
Now there's pathos in dust-driven clouds
that shadows an earth that has lost its sun
It trembles now to catch its breath.
And branch by branch it lays to rest the leaves of courage, a golden crest,
that was shelter, home, a fortress blessed, a place to lean to find solace
A tree, ... nor a man cannot be defined
by disease, confinement, by age or time
A tree falls down. It is nature's plan
to open the field, while clearing the land
What came before, grows new today,
The void that's left cannot be filled,
and tears we shed cannot be stilled
His leave will make a louder sound
The dust will rise. Trees burn to ash
What matters most is never lost
Oh yes, how it shatters the fragile heart!
Oh God, how it matters, how could it not?
- But, the man and the tree have earned a rest
____________________________________________________________
6/6/17
scarlet streaked with yellow
I lean to breathe in her scent
I reach out to feel her touch
she pricks me
and I bleed...
bleed her scarlet fever
bleed her yellow fever
she needs me to bleed
so gladly I bleed
scarlet streaked with yellow
The pale face of nature, of flowers and treetops
Has been lost without color, behind frost in the meadow
Under snow on the fence post, and the ice on the willow
So tattered and bobbing, and weary of hiding
So weary of biding her time in the fog
Tired of the doldrums, tired of the ho-hums , and weary of crying...
The pale face of nature, of gardens in springtime
Will drink in this morning, to find it surprising!
A lekker arrival !!
Of sunkissed horizons
Is blissfully welcomed with gold in the morning
All smitten with cheer !
Trees lean to the side
Drunk on the sun
Lifting their branches
And keeping it near
I long for it too
As I move out my chair
From under the shade
To drink in the sun
After dark winter days
To welcome it here
A lekker arrival
Is speckled in sunshine
I find it to be fine, to bask on my deck!
I'll poke out my neck to soak in the bliss
And what could be better than this? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
________________________________________________________
For Suzette's Contest: "LEKKER"
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Scarlet streaked with yellow
I lean to breathe in her scent
I reach out to feel her touch
she pricks me
and I bleed…
bleed her scarlet fever
bleed her yellow fever
she needs me to bleed
I need her to need me to bleed
so gladly I bleed
scarlet streaked with yellow...
Wild like the rose, I must have
vicious when in bane
Swallow the aroma... Passion
acknowledge the tropical beauty
enjoy the inspirational tease
bondage and bandages of needing,
aroused by the pain
aroused by the danger
Inviting... Touch my wilderness
I stick, you bleed
stroke, with fever, chills
viral & unexpected, "I am The American Plague"
Wild like the rose, you must have
This poem is a collaboration by Tim Ryerson and Linda (PD)
Submitted for: 'The Heart of Seduction contest sponsored by Justin Bordner
I've noticed,
As our economic and politically empowered
too consistently lead with their Right,
All us non-elite women
people of color
LGBTQ
and indigenous people
predictably lean to our Left
To find a space
where we feel safer,
and a sacred place
where we might imagine
our lives actually matter.
As I weigh the love from the pain....??
I end up with the same thought again and again...??
The love was good when it started....??
we chilled with friends, each other we never parted....??
You held me close with an embrace so tight...??
It kept love thoughts on my mind all day some nights....??
......One day I awoke and it all seemed different...??
It felt like being stripped of your virginity, and all along its been missing....??
We went from hanging to namin all the people you could do...??
The hold I felt was me holding myself after you....??
As I lay I weigh the thoughts of our love from our pain.....??
The names the claims to each and every game you played....??
Balances......??
Lean to a love you should share with another ??
Goodbye, Brother...??
BYE......
A mansion the child says, with a million miles of green grass.
I hope his heart will not be broken, if this does not come to pass.
Shelter in the form of a house is really the important part,
I tell the young one. A home is truly the best start.
Shelter in a lean to, a cave, or thatched hut in France B,
Can be the best of places, it does not have to be fancy.
You must remember about shelter the main thing is…
The people inside who love you, who make you feel like a whiz.
They are your true shelter, your place to go in a storm.
They know how to nurture you, to love you up and keep you warm.
Shelter is not a dwelling as much as a wonderful place to be.
A mother, father, grandma, auntie, whose love eyes clearly see….
The noise broils over in the heat
And spread out like wares along the street
The haze of crowd, the jungled feet
Fresh scent of soil and the aroma sweet
I see the bright cloths, and the fashion shows
The haggling voices and their temptations
The big Trelawny yams that twin footed grows
The paltry cents of private hesitations
The market is abloom and abundance tease
The native hunger from its native ease.
There is guinep, the same we cracked
At school, a single seed to feed a twenty pack
The hog plums and the apples red, stacked
Like a lean-to shack, melons dripping and the sack
Of cherry tomatoes besides carrots on the mat
Two orange in bags and the eggs in their flat
Cabbages plump and green callaloo fresh and fat
Mangoes early, and seasonings for the pot
The magic of eyes the sleright of nose, the taste
That tells us how much to know goodness we haste
And among all this passion of colors, this fragrance
Of fruits, I see a richer, sweeter elegance
Our people bright giving this place its romance
Women subtle of eyes, whose bodies dance
Like fireflies around a shaded lamp, and men bold
Though bent beneath their unforgiving loads, hold
Work sovereign and do not crringe from sun and sweat
The building is dingy with crumbling walls and parapet
But like the lustered fruits that in cadence to the call
Rise above the struggle turning back the ancient fall
Spare change jangles
in my pocket
makes me lean to one
side*
your music warms the
subway station
I gladly give my
tithe
*New Scientist -
Dec. 1995
As I stand on step number one,
I feel the warmth from the setting sun.
Another foot forward, step number two.
I pause a while to enjoy the view.
I turn my head for one last time,
As I start on up, my tedious climb.
I hold the wall, there are no railings,
Another of the tower's failings.
Does it lean to the left, or the right?
I wouldn't risk it in the dead of night!
The room at the top is a bit damp,
But anything's good if you're a tramp.
The wall is warm as it touches my arm.
All is peaceful, and I feel so calm.
Because of a piece of bread, and a sip of wine,
For the moment at least all this is mine.
2001
The tags are labels placed on a table.
Beginning with A and ending with Z, the labels placed on the table enables me to readings.
I defeated being judgmental and did not become analytic.
My mind is a schema.
The stems are roots ending.
Argumentative are the colors exploding.
White becomes mixed and black is a misted.
Meaning is that both are within an element.
The bags that I carry appear to be heavy but they are not.
They are held many ways so that my arms will not tire.
I walk with a slight lean to my shoulder because my purse must strap.
I arch upright like a cat.
The stems rooted and garlic is scape.
The railroad track is the shortcut we take.
The blood is enriched and the heart strengthens.
Once grown, he knows life ascertains.
Pulling back the curtains, he views the beautiful garden planted by his beloved mother.
The clothes in this bag I will wash completing my chores for today.
Once done, I will leave to find something to enhance my life.
I feel agitated and I must relax.
Tomorrow will be one of the best days in time.
The stem is a broken root.
It uses or loses its route to new growth.
The knowledge it provides is wisdom to the planter.
The stem asks the question of why did this happen.
Mona Lisa is
Looking directly with fizz
Loving life more than slaying
Her bent left arm looks
Curving as rushed water goes
Few miles into Sinai cove
Her left side’s dark cheek
A map of bliss’ Middle East
Tsunami comes to seek rear
Big N is a road
Jordan River lifts thug load
The Dead Sea drinks a cup cold
Two lines cross center
Divide the picture’s structure
A pyramid’s top pixel
The world’s lavenders
Must have read the deep scriptures
Since it’s top invisible!
Tilt Mona at six
Dark clouds fill up soft basins
A new chapter, written with
Lean to quarter till
See nature’s wonders begin?
Two mountains are blending in
Prop her upward so
Seems relaxing on her board
Her nose bled for tomorrow
Her pale hair behind
Natural curls, severe freight
Compressing exotic loaf tight
Who’s praying behind?
For flowery peace’s kind?
Guess the Saint’s name without fright?
If slimming picture
Lengthwise… a blood line outlines
Looks alike to Mayan calc
Meditative smile!
Burga challenged Mona’s height
Alignment’s center’s bright
The sun greets meadows!
Sifting darkest clouds by force
Pretty brooks feed our Lord
With fraternal love!
Quilt lands wrap up joyful doves
A new world with profound buds.
6 of 6
By: Nadia F. Shahwan – April 2009 -This poem reflects my innocent observation to analyze
the Mona Lisa's beauty.
Love and marriage
Love and marriage
Go together like
A...something and carriage
....cause that rhymes
He loves me
He loves me not
She loves me
But...maybe, not
....cause I don't think I'm lovable
We're going to the chapel
And we're gonna get married
....cause, well, that's what pretty girls do
But...what if I'm not pretty
Johnny and Mary
Sittin' in a tree
K-I-SS-I-N-G
First comes love
Then comes marriage
Then comes a baby
In...a...baby....carriage
....cause that's the order of things, right
I think I'm barren
College, Great Job
Excellent Man to provide
Then a nice house and car
To show the world I've arrived
...where
For pity's sake, would someone tell me
........where are we going????
Something is missing from
The facts we've been given
No matter how much information we have
Something HUGE is missin'
Two means difference
It provides humanity a choice
But if we lean to one side
The other has no voice
....how do we know TRUTH
It has to be on the line
....in the expression of the = sign
Written by Trudy Schrader on 07-15-2018
If you seek to fully understand,
This complex human jam,
You just need a ticket in hand,
To fly to Amsterdam!
History walks the streets here,
In every pavement stone,
You find friendship and cheer,
On every face In town!
Watch the cyclist to the right,
They have the right of way,
Trams, buses are packed tight,
As the Dutch start their day!
Explore the city on your foot,
And relish the jolly sites,
Take a camera click and shoot,
The brilliance of the nights!
Tall buildings on either sides,
With waterways in the middle,
Spend a few euros on a ride,
To solve the human riddle!
Four centuries you will travel,
In a ride around the Gracht,
The mysteries quickly unravel,
As you relax in the raft!
Seventy bridges link the city,
That floats on wooden piles,
“The dancing ladies” look so pretty,
As they lean to their sides!
Great masters of colour and paint,
Lived their lives on this land,
Amongst the sinners and saints,
Were Van Gogh and Rembrandt!
War and peace, joy and tears,
Carved this beautiful place,
Good days amidst daunting fears,
As they etched out their space!
Coffee shops are everywhere,
And the window girls in town,
It is Cannabis best be aware,
Before you bite and gulp it down!
It is a beautiful, honest city,
That is fair to one and all,
While the rest of us talk of piety,
Our values and morals appal!
Health and wealth together ride,
On cycles, buses and tram,
Simple honesty is their guide,
In the city of Amsterdam!!
Different generations
Different life styles
From deficiency to abundance
From neglect to care
From basic education to higher education
From man monopolization to women arising
From single income bearers to both parents working
From self-raising babies to baby sisters to nurseries
Different generations
Different perspectives of life
Different hazards
Different confrontations
Who is happier
Man is always curious and greedy
They always make problems to be solve
Like pollution, wars, bribery, disputes,racism
Who is happier
Finally they will lean to religions
But who knows God is not to be bribed
God will only help those who help themselves