Best Lucks Poems
Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs
Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found
Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling
Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found
To where the ridges merry make
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers
Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found
Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong
Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found
For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found
Categories:
lucks, adventure, allegory, angel, art,
Form:
Rhyme
Smooth as ebony silk, black aquatic waves the melting
Essence of liquid evil, stirring this lake placid of our
Eternal nightmares, deadened space in the fathoms
Deep, beneath the dreaming realm for which we sleep.
Translucent tears, left dripping in our unconscious mind,
Trick, trickling, encroaching, drowning us within the
Fear factor, heaving, and tugging at the reality of
Humanities thin realism.
Raw is this blackened well, of emotional plunging,
A pit bottomless, in suctions raw force of power.
Thy soul trying to cling against the porcelain sides,
Yet sliced by the roughed edge of illusions delirium.
Sheer glasses elliptical memorization, hypnotizing
The lucid mind, smacking hands blister at the panes,
Begging for this bad dream to end.
But your voices scream remain nothing except
Echoes refrains, that are lost amongst the complete
Darkness surrounding thee, in this murky abysses
Tidal surge.
Wake up, wake up, this is not real or is it,
The torn spiritualist grasps at faiths buoy, but
Instead sinks farther below the currents swift
Under currents, then light slits through the dark,
As lightening slashes at the blackest night, and
The dreamer shivers beneath his covers warmth.
Laying within his twisted sheets of sweat,
He wonders if any of it was real at all!
But whom can tell what lucks under the black
Waters of our nightmares, dare you to go swimming,
Into the rivers of the unconscious to find out, and survive.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
lucks, anxiety, dark, fear, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
cherished clover green
coronet topped purple plume
search out the four-leafed sprite
eye to lawn outspread
taste of bee sweet blossom red
leprechauns key find
pressed between pages
still lucks’ keepsake enclosed
more sought than the rose
Categories:
lucks, nostalgia
Form:
Choka
Science cannot explain happenings
Understanding is shot, blind assimilation is the only way
Possibilities only entangle with beliefs
Events bringing lucks possibly in both directions
Rare is its marriage with truth
Society adopts, such stories adhere to the mind
Taking with it some level of seriousness
In addition to making a few childhood scare.
Tries to connect the disjointed links
Irrespective of the distance in deviation, but
Over the years, the mind gets deeper
No worries at all! It’s just the Disney aspect of our lives
Categories:
lucks, symbolism, trust,
Form:
Acrostic
Sight.
Sound.
Smell.
Taste.
The trains.
The tracks.
The rush, the haste.
The sweeties and toffees,
Newspapers and coffees,
Cases and bags, e-cigs and fags,
Pasty and tanned, iphone in hand,
The people who come and the people who go
And the Taxis that wait, as you cannot be late -
Spill out men in their ties, College kids in tie-dyes,
End of termers returning to their seat of learning,
The screeching of brakes and the slamming of doors,
From the ‘barely awakes’ and the ‘ready to go’s -
The good lucks and goodbyes, fears and tears in the eyes,
And the hugs that don’t end and the texts that they’ll send,
The lovers, the losers, the shakers and movers, the gap-year beginners and ‘nothing to prove’rs -
Step right into the mouth of the train as it stands, hoping this journey syncs with the ticket in hand -
To all points of the compass; South, West, East and North,
The disparate throng fast shuddering forth,
Frozen of face, their personal space.
Typical of the human race.
Lost in the crowd, all heads bowed.
Silent fears, screaming loud …..
Break out the ‘Hello’s -
And ban ‘Goodbye’
Journeys end
Hovers,
Nigh.
Categories:
lucks, holiday, journey, travel,
Form:
Throughout the years, I write and write
Didn't give much care whether wrong or right
For in my heart, all I really want is to share and inspire
I want this, so I find a way then try and try
I went to different blogs and websites
Really wanting post my reflections and insights
Across all the choices, I found this soup not of goodies
But a soup of poets and poetess, young and not so oldies
Submitting a one, two and three prose
Excited to see persons whom I arose
Encouraging to see such heartfelt posts
Of praises and comments, so inviting for a toast
"Word flow is quite unique, intense emotions", by Drake Eszes
"come join in a contest", Says a poet Destroyer but a silent builder
Good lucks, says Skat A maybe an "A's" on her poems
Thank you, thank you very much for the warm welcome
Of hugs across the globe and praises, I receive each time
On this love month of February, even past Valentine
Let me dedicate this composition, I hope just in time
To all writers: verse, haiku, couplets and rhymes etc
Short either a paragraph or to long poems
BY:
olive_eloisa
12:57 am
February 17, 2014
2nd place - tributes for the soupers' welcoming committee
Categories:
lucks, desire, imagery, inspiration, poets,
Form:
Rhyme
My heart is on an island
Half a continent away.
It’s not a hot and sunny isle
With palm trees all asway.
The trees are oaks and maples,
The winters cold and raw
The waves pound on the beaches,
And black-winged ravens caw.
However, there’s a warmth inside
The panes and doors alight,
Where musicians, artists, poets
Hold the floor and take the mike.
Everywhere the neighbors join
In churches, homes, and halls
For parties or for pot-lucks
Or attending winter balls.
In fall and spring and summer
The outdoor island shines.
Fields and scrub and marshes
Are dressed up to the nines
With elderberry, roses, and
Feathery waving grasses
And sunny sandy beaches
With sun-tanned lads and lasses.
I miss that lovely island
For a million different reasons.
My heart will always live there
No matter what the seasons.
Categories:
lucks, appreciation, beach, change, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
Great are the follies of haughty man through the times ,
Imposing his will on fellows, changing the climes,
Playing god for some silver , acceding to greed.
Always striving for more , wanting more than his need,
Sowing seeds of dissension , destroying his breed,
Meddling with nature , man destroys nature and earth.
He's restructured the genes, to mutants given birth,
His junk - food is unhealthy , adds weight to his girth;
The surgeons mint money with their nips and their tucks.
The atom's been tamed , corporations make big bucks,
The innocent public just ran out of their lucks;
Politics and religion determine one's fate.
I'm not against progress , but am sorry to state,
Life's more than money or power , pleasures to sate;
Love and compassion to one and all is what counts.
Drink of the wisdom in Good Books, drink from their founts,
Make good use of progress, scale good Karma's mounts;
Life's purpose is not sowing destruction's seed.
Playing god for some silver , acceding to greed,
Meddling with nature , man destroys nature and earth,
The surgeons mint money with their nips and their tucks,
Politics and religion determine one's fate,
Love and compassion to one and all is what counts,
Life's purpose is not sowing destruction's seed.
~07 Jul 2016~
12 syllables per line checked via www.how manysyllables.com
Categories:
lucks, deep, environment,
Form:
Rhyme
I heard many times before
When sad, mothers become trees
They become clouds,
when there is more sorrow
And a rosary,
when they are more sorry
I knew a long time ago,
The Annas and Paisas
That the grand mother carried with her
At the time of partition
Are stale coins now
Like our country and the river Ganges,
The river Padma and Teesta
And like the uncountable families
Mothers are being parted
Exhausted and sacrificed
I have seen many times before
Lighting evening lamps
At holy basil base
Praying before the divine mother
And after immolation of idols
Spraying the holy river water,
Chanting, 'Oh Peace !'
Mothers wish good lucks
And always wish our prosperity
I thought long ago
that Jerusalem via Nabadwip
Is indeed a long distance
And a journey is not possible,
crossing so many nation's border
I saw the mother's womb
And mother Teresa as well
Mothers are God
And become God in the order
Categories:
lucks, blessing, god, jesus, mother,
Form:
Personification
But now we can communicate.
I am not sure what cause this sort of block.
Under normal circumstances I suppose it's human.
To access so much of ourselves mentally.
Yet physically remain mute.
An attempt to be funny. Charismatic.
To yearn the manifestation of being represented such as a memory.
For some it's easy. It becomes culture.
Ignoring this association of fear.
Although slight. We begin to judge ourselves.
In fight beyond a couple of seconds that leads to bliss.
The things that have yet developed.
The possibility that things may not.
But definitely something is there. Reflected from the light of eyes.
Self doubt in light of holding back.
Yet we've evolved.
We've evolved into a splitting image of what we adorn.
The critique of what eyes see & what ears have heard.
We've thought in different ways of what binds.
Now we communicate.
To better service our needs, our wants.
We've binged them all.
Knowing all of our favorite parts, to speak hesitantly about the bad.
We recite them only in private.
Ignoring the kick backs and pot lucks that begin with pleasure.
It begins with the closed culture of what feels foreign
to no longer recite in mental.
Now we communicate
Categories:
lucks, black african american, crush,
Form:
Free verse
Desire and lust
Spread everywhere
As if sand of a desert.
Climbing up a slippery tree
A naughty boy lucks green guavas.
Standing before a mirror
An impotent colors his white hair
To feel false taste of fugitive youth.
With anxiety, the hungry earth
Asks the greedy sun
To know her identity.
What aptness spreads
Brightness in the solar system ?
Planets, satellites, stars-all are curious.
With mouth broad open
Black holes look blank !
Who is he, running on the milky way ?
Somewhere, perhaps a helpless woman
After satisfying the lust of a libertine
Picks up her saree to hide her womanhood.
Categories:
lucks, beauty, life, lonely, love,
Form:
Free verse
War time department
Will not accept defection back in doors
Parody of film available
Dow Jones industrial
Cannot re accept bottom value
Lady lucks paying up the flag again
These folks don't make it
Per capita grief
Early spend
We have mess hall television also, kendall
Ventura county skid row tents not up
Zero coordination
Zero staff
No advertising industry pertaining to homekey letters
State non existent in thousand Oaks California
Federal lifeline tents not up at the ready
Diversion of speech
Diversion of federal service is
obstruction of coordinator
I am standing in
As press
Mandate dictates
Mandated law, life costs money, keep spending
At no point is order diverted
Budget in waiting needs only push forward
Coordinators not printing law lost in corruption
Inactive positions have resignation to indictment.
Reserved proactive response has limit to appearance
By defecting.
By defecting all departments are emptied
Tax is liened heavily in probe of illness
Assets and locomotion are removed
Tit for tat is always at hand
Spiralling home
The lockout is obstruction
First rotation of labor call
Paid time off
Vacation and retirement eligible personnel
Head towards water
Obstruction to relief in coordination
Please allow staff overflow outreach and key erasure
News summit of bargain as budget allows
Enjoy
Categories:
lucks, america,
Form:
Free verse
I cook but no one eats.
I bring my offerings to pot-lucks.
But no one wants to be lucky.
I take it home, without a spoonful gone.
I make surprise casseroles.
They are a glorious testament
To everything we have had to eat that week.
My husband eats before he comes home.
I bake and people laugh.
Once I made an inedible cake.
My twin and cousin rolled it into balls.
They bounced all over the sidewalk.
It was from a cake mix.
My mother asked how I had done it.
No one could eat it, but we played with it all day.
If I knew how I did it I would do it again, and often.
Categories:
lucks, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Light Verse
Have you seen--
How much is still pungent -
And sour our misery upon lips!
Have you seen--
How confusing words will be,
If from tears jumped out --
Our aspirations,
With songs and stars!
Have you seen--
How apparently pale our dream,
How wither in the orbits
Of the night stealthily,
Then suddenly being expunged!
Have you seen--
How the questions drained!
How terrifying,
Were the answers guffaws!
How stubborn our lucks!
How we walked while sins ravaging,
And eeriness and nothingness!
Have you seen--
How much pungent,
And sour our misery upon lips!
Written by © Fatima Nusairat
Categories:
lucks, feelings,
Form:
Free verse
Grand fireworks on display,
as everyone happily embarks in New Year’s
brand new day.
Let us welcome!
Hug the year without doubts and fear,
All come!
Sounds squish,
Bad lucks and tear
Wish!
Grand fireworks on display,
Hug the year without doubts and fear,
Wish!
Categories:
lucks, celebration,
Form:
Rhyme