Best Lifers Poems


Premium Member I Salute the Veterans

I Salute the Veterans
By Franklin Price
11/8/2015

I salute the veterans
My hand is to my brow
Standing at attention
I recognize us now

My brothers and my sisters
Short timers, lifers, all
I commend us for our service
When our country came to call

We answered to our nation 
To protect an oath we gave
All of us gave something 
Some gave all unto the grave
Form: Rhyme

A Shared Demise

allusion, best friend, destiny, farewell, funeral, love, romance,

A SHARED DEMISE! ©

Coupled ‘lifers’ love is spent when terminated time sets in
This lovers state of affairs does ‘mirror’ a set rule of the ages
Outstanding duos do ‘voice’ as real friends sharing a mind in tune
Their clocked-time reverses knowing a finale means only one
It choruses from their minds and lips between two set songs 
 Shared prayers of wishes, hopes, and one last requests for mated-sake 
Coupled for that one eventual and ‘significant’ closure, for whom ‘the death tolls’ 
A significant demise for the remaining one will be from broken-hardheartedness 
Nature’s culling moments bare no ‘witnessing’ to its’ taking lovers ‘two by two’.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Tomorrow

Ah, the Sphinx-like mysteriousness  
Of tomorrow. While not promised
An invitation to new discoveries and epiphanies
Zest for lifers, optimists, idlers all await 
With breathless anticipation
 
Tomorrow, like death and taxes, is inevitable
Auspicious. It's fragrance more potent 
Than a whiff of sandalwood. It tastes as sweet 
As honey on your tongue. An hors d'oeuvre
To more palatable opportunities to come
  
Nights are filled with dreams 
And sustained longing for a more 
Prosperous tomorrow. New challenges 
Abound, both exciting and daunting
For the young and old

Yet another day to be grateful for being 
Alive and rich in spirit. Yet another day 
To try once more when the battle 
Of today is lost. Yet another day to feel
The soft zephyr on your skin
 
All that tomorrow promises
Are forever etched in stone. Birds will sing 
There will be blooming flowers to marvel at
The glorious sun will set in the eventide
A galaxy of stars will litter the sky
 
No matter how dire the trials and tribulations
No matter how high the summit of adversity
No matter how low the spirit; when the good
Fight is defeated today, it resumes the next day
As Scarlett O'Hara says..."After all, tomorrow is another day"



YOUR PERSONAL PERFECT POEM PICK any theme,any form 
Sponsored by Brian Strand (Winner: 3rd Place)
Date written and posted: 10/26/2017
Form: Lyric


Good Ol Backwards North Dakota

good ol’ backwards North Dakota

wouldn’t want to be a woman in
North Dakota,
cause’ choice just ain’t happenin’ there.

nah,
if you’re a woman who gets raped in good ol’
backwards
North Dakota,
since they just shut down the last abortion 
clinic, 
all those bible thumping,
christ screaming, pro-lifers,
will be telling you to give birth
to a constant memory of the man who
raped you,
because they ****ing said so.

wouldn’t want to be a woman in 
don’t-need-your-thumbs-to-live-here
North Dakota,
because i’d be unable to decide what to do with
my own goddamned body,
due to the fact that the 
“heaven”
seeking
hillbillies
want me to kill my dreams of having a career
before settling down with a kid,
so they can feel like they did their 
“god”
good.

wouldn’t want to be a woman in North Dakota,
unless i had enough money to get on the 
quickest ****ing train
out of there 
& gee willikers,
doesn’t that just feel ****ing dandy
in “the land of the free?”

Heartbeat of a Sleeping Giant

Heartbeat of a sleeping giant

In my mind, there is a boy who exist in
Chains.
Inside a cold, dark room of painful 
Solitude-- is where is heart would remain.
Behind these walls the sorrow is inevitable,
As relentless as the passage of time.
Mentalities corrupt and dark, brainwashed 
And hopelessly blind.

Prisons are packed with crowded spaces,
Lifers and guards with hallow faces.
Shackled hearts afraid of changes,
And weakened wills become complacent. 

Yet I maintain with patience,
Time can limit but shatter my will,
Strength blazed across my chest as solid as 
Penitentiary steel.
But silence speaks,
It tells me all I need to hear,
It confirms my believes and it promises
I have to fear.

It reminds me that without freedom,
I’m alone.
And these whitewashed walls 
Don’t make up for blackened souls.

I’ve given 95% of my boys
A handshake than a pound,
Before they were either locked down,
Or buried off in cemetery grounds.

What I’ve done is who I am,
But who I am is what I do now.
I won’t let up or cease to fight.
Just time I plan on doing it right.
And what’s right lies within me.

I’m learning to appreciate my struggle
For it would be hard to find the 
Joy of accomplishment without it.

We live and we learn.
We rise and we fall.
Like the heartbeat of a 
Sleeping giant, 
With bittersweet dreams.
Stay up, never down.
Form: Lyric

It's Back My Chronic Companion Returns

Not sure how fond I am of this write very different style to my usual genre. #experimenting 

Well look whos back again
My old compardra 
My closest companion chronic pain 
What a lovely way to see in the new year 
And spend new year's Day 
Alone rolling around the bed 
Unfortunately in agony 
How romantic I bet it said
Maybe it is all in my head 
My imagination running wild 
Shame it's come up with something I dread
Why can't it just leave me alone 
Is it intent on constantly reappearing
Till it's isolated me from everything 
and everyone one I've known
Maybe I don't want to be alone 
Maybe I don't want to be stuck in my head
Listening to all the negative things it's said 
I just want to be free, 
free of the pain and misery 
It teased me for a time 
I thought it had said it's goodbyes 
But like a predator 
It just allowed me enough time to recover 
So It wouldn't all be ended and my casket buried
Before it pounced like a panther
And it sunk it's teeth in
right next to my gugular
Its not finished with me yet 
like it would grant me a quick painless death
Why won't it just leave me be 
or do the kind thing and put me out of my misery 
Surely I've done my time served my servitude
Paid my pennants for whatever crime
Will it not be satisfied till it spills my blood
Or has me hung drawn and quartered 
In one last final act of vengance
To inflict the ultimate pain on my broken body
Must I scream like William Wallace for freedom
Will it then relent and show me mercy 
I think not, I think it thrives on my cries 
Like a psychopath It smiles at my demise
I bet it loves to just sit and watch 
Yes it's back again 
But this time I don't think it sees the need for a reprieve, 
this time it's never leaving it's not stopping
Because it has no plans on ever getting going or being gone.
Obviously I've got a lifers debt left owing, 
it would no doubt say sing.
© Sarah Cope  Create an image from this poem.


Charades, Parades and Video Games

dead on the inside rotten one the outside
should go and hide but hindered by my pride
try to be unique but treated like a leper
standing tall but crumbling under pressure
take a look and you’ll see its a charade
marching like pro lifers at a pro choice parade
in the midst of something you don’t understand
watching and waiting for that elusive master plan
life is a gift that you should not be missing 
but have you ever heard of re gifting?
all lives are equal! what a useless joke
search for that truth through the deceptive smoke
I’m not one to criticize what I don’t understand
or to preach about putting it to the man
that chapters over we know we cant win
but is wanting something better really a sin?
I write poems about what I feel or know
this ones my heart despite the freak show
aim for something better but to slow on the draw
work for what you want. guess what my hands are raw
I’m still homeless, jobless, and trying to persevere regardless
things look up and then you get hit the hardest
this isn’t a complaint or a plea for help
I don’t want anyone I’m better by myself
trust in those who are closest to you
I looked for help and instead got pushed through
I’m done with this poem and I’m sure you are too
just remember the only person there for you is you
sad
Form:

Premium Member Justify Anything With Religion

Democratic Senator Kirsten Gillibrand
Surely the most pious, learned Christian in all the land

Came out today with a most scholarly shocker
For which I find it hard to do aught but mock her

She told several fawning reporters** that restricting abortion
Is against the Christian faith, at least its most important portion

She explained that Christians are given free will, and then this:
That a democracy separating church and state is sadly remiss

If it intends to impose anti-abortion 'faith' against its citizens' wills
Thus labeling pro-lifers a denominational religion, as do political shills

So, whatever your stance on abortion may be, from pro-it to the death penalty
Perhaps on this we can all agree: Ms. Gillibrand's logic is pure quackery.


  **CBS and Reuters
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Israel Vs Hamas

Could conditions terribly sad
Lead captives to do something bad
When a sheriff not cool
Won’t let compassion rule  
Do lifers in prison go mad?

Did structure that forms Gaza’s pen
Encourage the Hamas gunmen
And with vengeance hot
Will Israel’s king-sized swat  
Hurt civilians at risk again?

Do dollars the contractors reap 
For the deadly weapons not cheap
Make reprisals cease 
Or bring lasting peace
After Gaza ends in a heap?

Author's note: If a civilian dies as a result of a bomb dropped from a plane or one dies after being shot by a deranged soldier, is the outcome any different? While a huge opportunity exists for talking right now, will politicians just scramble to satisfy constituent anger? During an interview, the Israeli father of a kidnapped daughter pleaded for dialogue rather than more violence. Is empathy for this father and daughter possible?
Form: Limerick

Bring Back Shotgun Weddings

Who cares if unwanted children
Abound all over this earth?
Someone else can feed them
Until they have proven their worth!

Of course we shall disgrace them
Until they learn their place
Somewhat less than human and
Completely devoid of Grace!

Pro-lifers must believe their God
Is an old, incompetent fool
Who simply can't remember
What they learned in Sunday School.

Freedom of Choice is an issue
Pro-lifers will never forgive
They MUST have the right to dictate
Exactly how others must live!
Form: Verse

Premium Member Lifers

50 years ago I would have said
life was swollen with promise
as I awaited your return
from a land of bicycles,
Pagodas, potato vendors
and "Hiah, Hiah, Mushee, Mushee,
Hononea, Hononea."*

40 years ago the struggle
almost killed us both,
swimming against the current
of babies, bottles, bills
and dreams swept away.

30 years ago, life happened
in such a mad whirl
we hardly noticed its passing.

20 years ago, at life's half-century mark,
still slender (unlike now when flesh hangs 
where it shouldn't), we walked 
backward through empty rooms.

10 years ago, walls strained
as our numbers grew one by one 
and we reeled in astonishment and joy.

Today, life swells with promise,
our attention riveted
                  on dreams rekindled.


*Japanese Greeting
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.

One Minute Birding

Spare a minute
to know about
those perky creatures
and their special features

Lifers, twitcher, tertial and lores
are nothing but the birding terms
Introduce, birding to the children,
As that would make kids pen

Their mesmerizing melodious calls 
and the raising tunes wake up all 
from those regular humdrum 
and make us embrace the bliss

They are the angels from heaven
who have the power to turn
even the empty plots into garden
and the frozen winter into spring

They are the one who begin
the jingles in the dawn
and the one who end 
the day by doing murmuration at dusk

They make us feel high,
For, they are buoyant souls that fly
which transfer their energy and power
to the one who watches them for hours

So why waiting? Look out
Spare a minute...

Want to know more?
Pls do see my youtube channel 
" one minute birding"...

Here is the link to my channel...

https://youtube.com/channel/UCLXFhWUfAmil_vqPAeOa-2w

Life Sentence

We’re doing time on planet earth, 
our sentence started right at birth 

The sentence is, we’re here for life 
and with mistakes it will be rife 

The sentence cannot be commuted – 
We’re here ‘til to dust we’ve been transmuted 

We’re sentenced here with other lifers 
& follow each our own Pied Pipers 

We walk our paths from birth to death 
marking time with each drawn breath 

& when our sentence comes to end, 
we hope to heaven we’ll ascend 

Where, free from being bound in time, 
we’ll start to know a joy sublime 
 
And see that real life never dies – 
we just transform like butterflies 

We’ll lay aside our outer shells 
and rise above our private hells
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member On Turning Fifty Contest

ON TURNING FIFTY

As my cousin turned fifty there was talk of AARP.

Two years behind Danny, I ask the million dollar question:

“What is AARP?” – “Oh you’ll find out,” my uncle laughs.

~

Fifty is the turning point -
No sense denying, we’ll all die one day.
For example, just letting fifty flip off your lips…

What the blankety blank?!
Well, look, I am old enough to swear…after all!

~

My baby sister thinks old age a grand joke -
All us old farts…me fourteen years her senior.

But we all know, even baby sisters hit the jackpot:

I can hear her screaming, “Noooooo! That’s im-po-sibbbbble!”

If you heard a star wars reference, yes I’m that old!

~

50 is a party hardy age:

We shake our groove thang

Grown men line up in full gear for the YMCA
My husband unbuttons his shirt

“My eyes…”

~

Fellow fifty lifers fill your flagons with felicitous fright…I mean delight
Lift up those hefty flagons, if you still have the strength.
If you can still laugh your not dead yet. Fifty more to go to the finish line.

Fifty more is up to you:

Fifty drinks
Fifty breaths
Fifty sighs
Fifty laughs
Fifty years

Cheers!

4/10/2017
A free as can be free verse, who the heck cares…I’m fifty plus :)

Premium Member Who Is Your Neighbor

Who Is Your Neighbor? 


Forty-seven years we are in this our home of dreams;
youngsters flew the nest to chase their very own sun beams.

We are the oldest on our street among mid-lifers here;
no children's voices, kids on bikes, school buses do we hear. 

Two years ago a family moved in across the street – 
a New York City fireman, his wife and son so sweet.

Our spry young neighbors brought new life; we feel special joy
to interact with them and watch them teach their little boy.

My hubby, retired fire chief, can share so much with the them.
Young neighbors brought the gift of youth to make us smile again.


Sandra M. Haight

~NA~
Contest: Who Is Your Neighbor?
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Judged: 09/14/2015


.
Form: Couplet

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