Best Living Poems
There is some pain involved
But the experience
Is to die for
***
Damned by the devil's curse upon my heart
I pace the lonely bridge twixt love and hate
Stalked by death's shadow from the very start
Forsaken by the guiding hand of fate
My restless soul sleeps in the tangled thorns
Nursed by the acrid milk of bitter weed
Tormented nightly by old lovers scorned
And haunted by a score of sinful deeds
Pray, take me now to storm the gates of hell
Confront the wicked one and question why
Twas reason for my birth under his spell
To live a loveless life until I die
I curse this lonely life given to me
The fire of hell is all t'will set me free
an original poem by Daniel Turner
Temptation Itches On All Living Things
Temptation itches on all living things
often nobody knows just how it stings,
not the icky-glues in its sticky pastes
nor the rotten fruits in its wasted wastes.
She the vixen nobody could resist
her vanishing pleasures - elusive mists,
long legs descend from heavenly skies
later, such dark pains in lamented cries.
Victim once thought to be heavenly bound
lost, voiceless, no understandable sound,
finds temptress, sexy wares designed to win
she that siren alluring to all men.
You scratch that itch, risking your own peril,
finding wounds that can never be sterile!
12-15- 2016
For Daniel Turner's , What Was I Thinking, Contest
15 December 2016
Last verse inspiration, from his poem "Between the Lines
Couplet sonnet
Rhyme Scheme: a a – b b – c c – d d – e e – f f – g g
10 syllables each line.
Today another angel got her wings
Promoted for a job well done on earth
Rejoice! In heaven, all the angels sing
His grace has filled her with angelic mirth
Though quickly earth reclaims the pyre's ash
How swift the ceaseless seasons of the sun
Grief fades and loneliness becomes the lash
A harsh reminder of that special one
But in our times of sad and dark despair
Our angel fans the dying flame of love
No longer suffering, her joy she shares
Reminding us she's waiting up above
This life is for the living, not the dead
Our day will come, when no more tears are shed
"
June 21 2019
Living Truth
Ancient guides of venerated truth
Stumble through numb spiritual graveyards
Where truth casts its shadow in chiseled words,
A signature of affection,
On moss bathed alabaster stones that once
Gleamed in treasures of veracity,
Autographed insights of the ancient sages
Screams out the litany of wisdom
Then begs, like balm, the insomniac unconscious heart
To intone a resurrection,
A living trove of living verbs in action
Breaking from the bondage of a chrysalis redecorated
With raw promises to shake off stagnation,
Relight the lantern star of the eternal spring’s veracity
Springing into actions that rise from stone inertia
Insight’s revelation releases a new song of songs
Truth that lives anew –
That propels the quest of new a-ha’s
That plants new reasons for renewed actions
In the waiting heart embraced.
5-3-22
Contest: Our Truth
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
1st Place Our Truth
Living a life full of love is necessary
Let's bring lots of bright cheers and smiles
Everyday start refresh and reach for the stars above the sky
Try to see things better and make it worth awhile.
We know that the world spins out of control
Yet you can keep all this craziness out of your door
Nothing can make you do things you don't really want to do
If you have a dream- just work hard and make it yours
God works in so many mysterious ways
And all the time I just know that.
He is more than ready to rain all His blessings
On you right there and where you are at.
Never take love for granted-Open hearts door
You're supposed to nurture love and much more.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
November,18,2014
Grit in her eyes beaming fortitude of vibes
Powers her dash from one end to the other
Handing out drinks: brandy, whiskey, beer;
Serving high rollers and surly poor-souls
Where lights are flashing as machines jingle
When luck adjudicates winners and losers.
Watch her essence of fiery determination
Fueling her steps, gathering her strength,
As she churns numbers quickly in her head:
Grocery, rent, money for mother’s meds;
And some she’ll spare for her father today.
Hurriedly she sprints when her shift ends
Examining faces torn by ills, unwell, hapless
Under the bridge, by the train station,
Recalling childhood’s happier days within
Sound of his soft voice, calling her princess.
Abruptly she freezes, recollecting the scene,
Standing like a milestone on edge of the street,
Lips quivering, eyes tearing, pausing to forgive him
For abandoning them in a reckless charade
When suddenly a child became a parent…
So much about living she has learned since,
But not much about how to bury the dead.
May 11, 2020
HM: Brian's Select 8 Contest
I absorb your amazing
As I struggle to grow
My spirit is so excited
Still my heartbeat does slow
For I finally understand
The reason you are calm
You’re more than a parable
You are a living psalm
God in human form
Not one to deceive
Miracles at your hand
Yet so few of us believe
My faith is so small
There is much to forgive
My choices are many
in this world that I live
So I hand it to you
This burden so large
Because I only have stress
When I am in charge
Your yoke is not heavy
You know all I need
I follow your footprints
As you take the lead
My light in the darkness
You fulfill each desire
The path to your Kingdom
Takes me higher and higher.
(this is not a comment on gun rights in U.S.A. I am from Canada where we do not face the same challenges. rather i seek to speak to the creative mind. the search for the peace in our hearts. the gun is not literal but represents the violent soul. i hope i have not offended anyone.)
almost everything that wraps
the bone structure of the hands
is responsible for its sense of touch
touch,
the neck of a guitar
a lover’s hair
via a pen
through and to the end
of a paint brush
our sensitive
our creative
side
flows through our hands
the first time i held a gun
my skin melted off
than the
tendons
muscles
veins
arteries
followed
fell off the bone
stripped to its empty frame
i held the gun
with a raw naked bone
pulled the trigger
with a cold dead hand
i never held a gun again
the flesh grew back
in peace and love
my creative voice
is alive again
travels easily
through my brand new hands
Enamored in adulation of your whispering night
I adore charming moonlit sky, arousing doting vibes,
Seducing the peeking stars on incandescent arc
Beholden to romantic flame blazing in your eyes,
Wooing constellations twinkling in an astral dance
Amid outburst of meteor storms, celestial sparks
Knowing that is everything you ever asked for
From tangerine emotions scripted on lovesick skies,
When in embrace of soft twilight, holding my hands,
Deep within thoughts, you fondly fancied about
What it would be like to hear euphony of affection
In eternity of love-song warbling from our hearts,
As we take this evening into bosoms of new dawn
And kiss the resplendent morn in each other’s arms
Living the dream of ruby visions in butterfly nebula
Floating in cosmos on coral wingspans of romance.
October 17, 2019
Placed 2nd: Living the dream poetry contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Placed 3rd: Strand select D contest by Brian Strand
Don’t waste your time with pieces,
with “almost” and “not quite.”
Life’s too sharp for half-hearted choices,
for living in the in-between.
Either speak, or stay quiet,
but never let silence be a whisper
you didn’t mean to make.
Don’t wait for the right moment
to give your whole self.
Half a truth is a lie in disguise,
and what you leave unsaid
will live louder than anything you speak.
Don’t walk halfway to a goal—
it’s just a road you’ll never finish.
Dream only what you can touch,
and hold those dreams with both hands.
There’s no room for waiting
for someone else to fill in the blanks,
no one else will show up
to finish your story for you.
A piece of love is no love at all.
Neither is a moment shared
when you’re not really there.
What’s the point of a laugh
if it’s caught halfway in your throat?
What’s a promise
if it’s never fully given?
Half a life is like a house
that never gets built,
a song that doesn’t end,
a dance with no rhythm.
Don’t just exist—
be fully present,
not a shadow of who you could be.
There’s nothing wrong with starting over,
but never start only to stop.
Don’t live in the spaces between,
but fill the room with everything
you are.
Halloween is a time to let the imagination run wild
Halloween is a holiday shrouded in darkness
linked to the supernatural and known for inspiring fear
Dress like your favorite fantasy creature
or tell ghost stories in a dark room
But Halloween is not just about
to dress up in costumes and ask for candy
A favorable time for predictions about marriage,
happiness, health and death
An evening of spiritualism, ghosts, vampires and goblins
From old time it was a holiday steeped in folklore and customs
Poisoned candies to vampires and goblins
Carving pumpkins to trick or treating at your door
Masks and costumes to scare away ghosts
or to be recognized by them
Happy Halloween and good luck
31.10.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Take a look my Love
do you see how the diamonds of our dreams
are burning so brightly and violently
silhouetting the lips of our wishes against the walls of ancient Latin gold
in the sacred villa of Love's Kingdom where there is no escape
where rescue is unwanted,
where we survive and grow stronger in the gymnasium of passion's glory
did you notice that above the rose vine gateway
the phrase Sancta Simplicitas is carved deeply into the black and white marble,
do you feel the crimson love stress within your throat,
do you taste your soul's intestinal fortitude
surfacing on your spiked tongue
as we wrestle eachother ruthlessly, like champions that die in defeat,
moral armbars, clean elbow strikes to the jaw of flippancy,
pressure point pinches to the arteries of our inhibitions,
intellectual left and right hooks landing on the cheeks of our wisdom,
poetic hip throws to the mat of hard lust
defiant choke holds of love, flawless in tight execution
penetrating the blood brain barrier with the ecstasy of warrior fervor,
and as we lay sweatied and spent on the ground of this rough enlightenment
we look at eachother admiringly and realize like young romance
that we live for a single, shared purpose
to teach love what love means,
If they ever say diamonds to diamonds, dust to dust
they'll be speaking in bereavement of our beauty and bravery, of our best,
and I won't allow that,
as I know damn well
that you will not tolerate such misgivings either my Love,
instead,
we shall build a war machine of divine desire
that will destroy the proven walls of conventional psychology
erect a fortress of love that can withstand total despair,
and they will know the strength of our diamond love
as it guides the lost and lonely
through chaotic oceans of heart hysteria as with us,
no one will ever say our love died,
because we fought for it to live my Love -
Sancta Simplicitas is an ancient Latin phrase meaning...Holy Simplicity...
J.A.B.
Respect for nature
Respect for authority
Respect for fellow man
The rules of majority
Honesty is contentment
Honesty in everything
Honesty of the heart
Alive as the spring
Joyful in common things
Joyful of mind
Joyful just being
Gentle and kind
Happy within your soul
Happy with friends
Happy to be living
At peace to the end
Creeds I adhere to
Creed for giving
Creed for success
Great rules for living
© Jack Ellison 2014
Floating across rivers, valleys, and streams
I'm thinking of living inside of your dreams
Run barefoot through nature, you chasing me
End up tripping and falling in love by the sea
We're two eagles that fly, soaring high in the sky
Let the wind take our bodies, as life passes on by
You're a delicate flower, I'm a young honey bee
Sucking your nectar and starting a new family tree
Sliding down rainbows after a warm springtime mist
Laughter and giggles when on your cheek I plant my kiss
Your dream will not end having me inside you
Our days will get brighter and our night times will too