Best Leaving Poems
(NOTHING MORE TO SAY)
I've seen the way you look at me
I've seen the way you look at them
Without wanting to admit, you hate everything I stand for
Lying to yourself, you are sweet, caring and better
Still, you look at me and hate everything I stand for
You are a cheat - A liar - A toilet flushing down rain
You seek and want my attention, yet you have no domain
Your THANK YOU's are cheaper than a grin on a Walmart bag
The light - The light - That shines upon your expression
Nothing more than.....
Sour grapes traveling towards the darkest region of the sun
Yes, simple prunes basking all the time!!!!!
Shaking powdered grapes from lobe to lobe
Watching humping wild hogs who can't eat cake
---Desperately you mock yourself---
Before you draw a blank, let me remind you
You look at me and hate everything I stand for
The way I smile, carry myself every day
I never claim to be perfect, but better with no anvil
You can't bear the way I stand in front of the soap display
I embrace with all my spirit, at the end of every day
I'm so glad I am nothing like you or them
In reality, I judged you the moment you walked in
Before the year ends, I will end my affair right here
I have nothing more to say
I hope you all have a great new year.
TaTa SKAT in the Hat
Too good - to ever last suggested bpm 80
Vs1
When we first met, I never thought
that you could ever love me...
You were the brightest star shining
so high up above me...
Bridge
I loved the way you stared, with your sparkling eyes...
I loved the way you laughed, out loud until you cried...
I loved the way you moved, with such grace and finesse...
I loved the words you used, the way you'd catch your breath...
Chorus
Guess it was too good... to ever last
I knew the end was coming... but not so fast
I thought the good times... just might be enough...
I guess you got tired ...of my simple love
Vs2
I remember when you said our first kiss
gave you the shivers...
And every time that we made love,
I'd watch you gently quiver
Bridge
I loved the way you stared, with your sparkling eyes...
I loved the way you laughed, out loud until you cried...
I loved the way you moved, with such grace and finesse...
I loved the words you used, the way you'd catch your breath..
Chorus
Guess it was too good... to ever last
I knew the end was coming, but not so fast
I thought the good times, just might be enough...
I guess you got tired ...of my simple love
Postlude
Now in the heart of the night,
nightmares fade from view
Sometimes when I find peace of mind
I still... dream of you
When we first met,
I never thought that you ...
could ever love me...
December 4,2019
John Hamilton
A Last Poem for You, My Mate
If Death comes calling in colorful spring
I hope it will come in the month of May
When our garden is filled with fragrant blooms
That you have tended in your caring way.
Pansies and daisies with their sweet faces
Look up to agapanthus lofty height.
Each bloom as diverse as we are humans,
Each offers beauty to my love's delight.
Please don't come in summer when school is out,
Time with our grandchildren I cherish so.
I can't think of ruining their fun time
I'm pleading, in summer, don't make me go.
The times that we share at the pool or parks
Is precious to me as watching them grow.
They fill my heart with such laughter and joy
I feel their love too...I'm letting you know.
Oh Death, come in autumn, my favored time.
When green leaves turn scarlet, orange and gold.
My eyes feast on beauty of changing trees,
Grateful for my seasons of growing old.
Autumn transcends my soul's true endeavors
To leave with you poetic words, my mate.
My legacy...to our generations
As we must all accept Death as our fate.
In winter, a time of quiet and rest...
When reflections of past mirror our views
And we watch as our life spreads before us
If it’s time to leave, I wish I could choose.
However Death, should you come in winter,
When the Earth like my hair is bathed in white,
I'd embrace your visit in my winter
To dwell forever in God's divine light.
12-12-18
My Muse Mortal Poetry Contest~ Premiere Contest Third Place~
Sponsor Gregory Barden
I have a butterfly in my pocket,
that will never fly again.
When I think back to yesterday,
it’s a pretty reminder of my pain.
Butterflies aren’t meant for pockets,
you my dear were not meant for me.
I have my pretty reminder,
that without me you are free.
We kissed in the sunlight,
a butterfly landed on your toes.
It elicited smiles and laughter,
I loved how you crinkled your nose.
Bright skies filled with clouds,
in just a matter of days.
A butterfly stays just a season,
how I miss your delicate ways.
You left me without warning,
I saw our butterfly on the ground.
Like you no words were spoken,
my heart made a breaking sound.
So I put our butterfly in my pocket,
imagined you flying again.
I’m left to ponder my sorrow,
with a pretty reminder of my pain.
I can't recall the day you left
Empty words going west
~To The West Coast~
My love, my sweet love -- my soulmate
I will cherish our time, with the sun
My love, my friend, my lover
Today we part, on this day June 3rd 15
My love, my sweet love -- my everything
On this day, I will take a long way home
On this day, I will look back and smile
To know it was not a dream
My love, my sweet love -- my true love
With this pen, I write this letter,
My bed now knits a different sweater,
Preparing my linens for darker weather
I want you to know, I'm writing this with a swollen heart
It was never you, it was I who grew apart
Patience kept you warm when I was cold
Every night, I cried, I tried to feed you my dreams
My hollow soul sat like a fool under a heavy cloud
Holding back, the need of proceeding who I was
My love -- please forgive me
I was inconsiderate of us
I would lay without opening the windows of trust
Your smiles I wiped away my faults
However you stayed, you watched,
You meant to kiss and stop the pouring rain
You kept strong, holding my hand,
When everything around my life persisted to perish
You soaked every time I stormed,
I regret when I refused to let you touch the women in me
My love -- it was never you
I was broken before our hearts met
Like a villain and a thief,
You took my diamonds in hopes of seeing them shine again
Your demons found a way into the shadows of my life
Trying to complete what you could not see
You could not feel, still, you believed in me
My dreams, you held me close, loving who I am
My love -- you are the sunrise the sunset
Your limbs kept me up when I would fall
I will miss the touch of light in every stare
Thank you for not looking my way, the day you left
I did not want you to see the mask I used to cover it all
Pretending, I was strong when I was weak
Knowing I had fallen in love with you
Forever yours,
*Note: A 60-year annual tradition that involved a mysterious visitor leaving three
roses at the grave of writer Edgar Allan Poe on the anniversary of his birthday
ended in January 2010. Curators of the Poe House and Museum are at a loss to
explain who left these gifts and why they stopped. On many occasions people kept
vigils near Poe’s grave during this period that began in 1949, but no one ever saw
someone leaving the roses. In the morning, however, they were always on his
grave. Poe is considered the father of the American short story and
his poem The Raven is one of his best known works.
Once upon a midnight dreary, Poe heard a tapping at his window
While grieving the loss of his young bride, a maiden “angels named Lenore,”
A radiant teen whose long, black hair in gentle breezes would billow,
Tapping at the window ceased, but suddenly it was heard at his door
Upon opening it, a Raven flew in repeating, “Nevermore”
At first he welcomed this odd visitor until Poe whispered, “Lenore”
When he heard his word echo, the strange Raven he began to abhor
He asked if he’d see his bride again and the bird replied, “Nevermore”
Though Poe died in eighteen forty-nine, a mystery evolved much later
A century after his death, his grave had an annual visitor
Roses were left on his birthday by someone whose love appeared greater
Who had left these floral gifts forever stumped the Poe House curator
Perhaps the answer can only be explained by reincarnation
Did the Raven embody the spirit of Poe’s beloved Lenore
If so, perhaps the Raven returned again in a life rotation
In human form she visited to lay roses on the earthen floor
And upon her death in two-thousand nine, she took to the skies once more
A Raven who now joins the flock circling above her late husband’s grave \/
Could it be her spirit remains with Poe, as it did in life before \/ \/ \/
Bringing him in the afterlife all the roses a poet could crave \/ \/ \/ \/
For those who consider this possibility totally absurd
Just consider the fantasies Poe created with the written word
By Carolyn Devonshire
Contest Title: “Among the Dead,” sponsored by Constance LaFrance ~ A Rambling
Poet ~
autumn winds whisper
turning over a new leaf
requires letting go
He called it love and his captivating way,
She called it fear and longed for the day.
All alone she cried those bitter nights,
While he ran around to his hearts delight.
He had her heart he pulled her strings,
All she ever wanted was the joy that only true love can bring.
He controlled her mind, her spirit, her soul,
All alone with no hopes of ever achieving her goals.
Completely stripped of confidence and pride,
She became a victim of his heartless and evil side.
She was hardly a child when he stole her heart,
Lured in to his web with lies and broken promises from the start.
Now all of her dreams have faded away,
As she musters up courage to try to make it through another day.
He has convinced her that what he says is the final word,
No matter what she had read or heard.
You can’t make it out there, alone, is what he said!
You won’t last a week till somebody finds you dead.
So callous and cruel he chose those frightening words to keep her here,
But she had reached the end and leaving was the only way and she saw it clear.
She said you’re right and I should hush so let’s not fight,
But her things were packed, she’d be leaving this night.
He got all dressed and went out to make the town,
She called her a taxi and left that clown.
She broke the bonds that held her there,
Now she’s on her own enjoying life and breathing in this new found air.
This little sparrow has found her wings,
Enjoying everything this life can possibly bring.
Eternity within your grasp
My plea? To undo the clasp
Let Desire wash away
Tomorrow and yesterday
Every other thought and dream
Meaningless I make them seem
Had you let the floodgates go
Oh, what pleasure you would know
But you let the moment pass
Tranquility came softly by
Sweet promise with you to lie
A scent full of serenity
Permeating entity
It caressed your very skin
But you didn’t let it in
No, you let the moment pass
Passion demands obeisance
Set to conquer your essence
In fevered pitch of a storm
To tempt you in every form
Fantasies of every kind
Unleashed frenzy of the mind
Transformed into what is real
But you were afraid to feel
To be tossed around and worn
To be completely reborn
Pounded by a wanton need
Every craving to be freed
Coaxed to burst into flame
But fear made your wild heart tame
And you let the moment pass
Love came knocking at your door
To bequeath a kiss and more
Calling in angelic chime
Faithful pledge denying time
Bonding of a soul to soul
Golden chance to become…whole
Promise true to last and last
But you let the moment pass
Now you beg and kneel to pray
For Him to open the way
You cajole powers that be
Somehow to change destiny
Before that moment to stand
Hold it safely in your hand
To seize me, the source of these
Let passion and love to please
To capture that golden time
Where all could fall into rhyme
Oh, my love, it will not be
My broken heart cannot see
My way through the halls of time
When I begged to make you mine
And now, my love, alas, alas
I must let this moment pass
In tears I let this moment……..P A S S
Eileen Manassian Ghali
When it is time for me to pass away
I’ll pack and leave; I dare not overstay.
But ere I drift out slowly with the tide
I’d wish to have my children by my side
To reassure them that we’ll meet again.
And when they saunter down memory lane
A treasure they will find within their mind,
Small pearls of wisdom which I left behind.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The Creative Collective Anthology Series
Contest hosted by Geraldine Taylor.
From far a cool wind gently blows,
There's a pleasantness in the air.
Harsh summer heat steadily slows.
The leaves of trees, new colours wear.
Autumn has come in time to cheer
From far a cool wind gently blows
The season brings everything dear
Stock in squirrel’s granary grows
Leaves fall ending their sprightly shows.
Some go fluttering in the air
From far a cool wind gently blows
Some trees are going starkly bare
Flowers begin to fade and die,
As the season’s about to close
Many birds in flock southward fly.
From far a cool wind gently blows
As I
Soak in hummingbird’s exhale
I feel tragic sonatas
Trying to chain
Trying to crucify
My sedentary grip on instability
I smell the repugnant commoner
Blasting scattered shots
Against yesterday’s decent
I became the handsome error again.
The godfather of uplifting idle minds
Sedated within the bosoms of complacency
Because, indirectly, I was the inebriated screw-up
Immunized with community pride
As 420’d lyricists
Puff corrugated burns
To keep their spine
Fused in relatable,
Flaccid significance
They dodge flagrant accountability
Like an intentional cripple
And I
Slow dance with agnostic prayer
There would be no commandments
To remind me
That I am still beautiful inside
Beautifully flawed.
Beautifully demonized.
Beautifully improper.
Ugly.
Yet, Gaia’s sun empowers this stanza
To breathe better breaths
To see what refuses to be seen
And no longer accept what cannot be changed
I carve milestones upon gravestones
In friends’ memoriam, nevermore
It felt peacefully redundant to be important,
Chiseling away the vowels of animosity
Attempts to hold my hands
Within this ambidextrous nightmare
Right hand, red
Left hand, chained
Courteous disdain
For developing minds,
Their figure of speech
Meant no blissful harm
With their 40 lashes
Conjured by judgmental testaments
Oh, how they preach for better tomorrows
While stirring yesterday’s pot
Becoming the “end” in “friend”...
©D.J.E.
Lusting the passions of a secret desire
Unwinding the mystery of my needs
Funerals are for the future
Internment I ask be deferred
Timeless is my youth
Useless is my request
At seeking eternity or at least eternal rest
End of times may seem long away
Beauty we know fades, it will happen some day
So I dream of youthful moments
Isle graveyards were far away
Holy wars and loveless scores
That a soldier must endure
A desire for peace escapes this generation and more
External forces and internal woes
Death dances at my door
Dedicated to Sara Bernhardt, who slept in her coffin amongst all her love letters.
Armadilly came galloping into Troll Lake, bent on seeking a new life, to unwind.
He’d rode out of the Badlands, leaving only a trail of blowing dust and leaves, behind.
His steady stead Jalopy had been pounding feet, relentlessly with powerful strides.
Rearing up, Armadilly stopped before our Troll Bridge with his slingshot at his side.
I could see, he rode the sleekest mount, and the biggest tortoise, that I had ever seen.
Man that armadillo knew his tortoise flesh… this was the fastest one, ever been!
I would say: he truly looked, the devil’s mount… with glowing, fire stocked eyes.
The stranger named himself as Armadilly, but his true identity, could not be denied.
He was really Armadilly Billy, The Slingshot Kidster, as he bowed to us, so very low.
With a yes Ma'am, and a no Sir, he was smooth and could charm, near any old soul.
The Trolls loved him for the spell binding stories, that at the campfire, he gave away.
He never talked about his past, but we knew who he was, without being told, that day.
The rumor had it that Sheriff Bunny Garret had shot him dead, on one fateful day.
Another said he’d faked his death, heading south to Mexico, his life to live away.
But we knew better, for he was here with us, right now, on this illustrious day.
We knew he was a kind and misunderstood guy, because of what I’m about to say.
He saved our squirrel, Funkundilly, from a hawk diving straight for her, inward bound.
With his slingshot, like streaked lightening, he forced the hawk to spiral to the ground.
And we all applauded that Funkundilly was now, once again, so very safe and sound.
Then he strode, spurs a jangling, to dish out his own type of justice, so very renowned.
With a steely glint in his eye, he ordered the hawk away, or meet his end, he did convey.
And you can say that frightened bully hawk, really high tailed it, as he ran away.
Everyone celebrated that night, with Armadilly, all the way to dawn’s embrace.
Before he left, Armadilly knew from then on, he’d always have a home in this place.
But his mind was set on a wandering, more of this world’s adventures, to unweave.
So with a HiHo! Jalopy! He took off, leaving in another cloud of dust and leaves.
But I heard him shout that he’d be back again, soon…
And we were sure, that’s just what he would do!
Inspired by Silly Billy the Kidster's--- Billy the Kid Blog
An epic poem by Carol Eastman
How many tears must fall from brown eyes before I lay me down to sleep.
Where hurtful dreams of betrayal and lies hide in shadows they creep.
How long did you think you could go around cheating and not be found out.
With all your two dollar whores and think I'd not scream and shout!
See if they'll put up with your bullsh**, until the next one catches your eye.
As for me I'm done with your no account two timing a** once and for all...
GOODBYE!!!!
https://youtu.be/eopNLWRW0IM