Best Lucky Poems
Lamenting sadness of my empath soul
Ten supine feelings hit me hard and whole.
The weeping willow of my heart so fine
Incidental weakness is truly mine.
My sweet soul feels bliss of veneration
A heart-felt idyllic situation
I can see auras around every soul.
Written July 9th, 2019
Contest: 17 is the Lucky Number
Theme Chosen: Shelter Me
Sponsor: Lu Loo
Syllable count: 10 each line. Checked with www.howmanysyllables.com
Acute power or a mystical virtue?
Not daring to venture further
Became superstitious by token and sign,
Leaving the most positive meanings behind
Ends with a 3 that reminds me of the trinity
A belief that kept within
All good things comes in double,
You're not alone just behind 1
Together you became 13 an age in certain
Tradition when a boy became a man
Among the many numbers
People pretends you came out the worst
even saying that you are a curse
But besides all others, you came first
Ignorance do hurts,
So they put you behind as a negative sign
Thinking of you makes me enjoy
The intricacies of mental calculates
A million seconds in 13 days,
13 stripes for thirteen states
A Friday 13 in every year
Again let me be a bit humoristic
Since I'm in love with mathematics
For those who calculates well,
Come let me play with your head
Close your eyes using the power of your mind
Pick and choose which power hidden inside you
The clock strike 13 hours, the mind reminds
us that it's 1 'o' clock,
infact we're back at the starting block
Since things became a mystery we tend
Not to go beyond our senses
13 is a number that all human share
The 13 major joints in our body
13 lunar cycles in a solar year
And the moon travels 13 degrees across the sky everyday
Making things works in a mysterious way.
By kelleyana junique.
You’d think a dog named Lucky,
Would lead a decent life.
But Lucky had his troubles,
And they followed day and night.
One day Lucky ran away
In search of greener pastures
Just to find a field ablaze,
Thus the start of his disasters.
Although Lucky didn’t die that day
And no limbs or parts were broken,
Lucky smelled of smoldered hair
And you’d swear he kept on smokin!
And Lucky liked to chase the cars,
Till the day he lost his nerve
When Lucky met a big ‘ol bus
That couldn’t stop or swerve.
I’m not sure just how it hit him
Or how he’s here today.
But he’s never walked straight since,
And one eye veers away.
My Lucky always clashed with cats
And was leery of their paws.
Until a “Tom” of forty pounds
Let Lucky feel his jaws.
Hair and fur balls filled the air
Like Cottonwoods a bloomin.
Poor ‘ol Lucky lost an ear,
And now looks twice as stupid.
I confess, I named him wrong
And why he stays, I’ll never know.
I guess that I’m the lucky one,
To have Lucky here at home.
What made you so special my freckle faced friend..
the day I heard you singing to a record, from your window next door.
Bell bottom clad teenaged knock out, with a ballerina's step..
In huge Cape Cod two story where dreams took form.
My mom hummed a tune as she ironed my best shirt..
Fumbled with your corsage, wondering why I chose red.
Last dance I remembered was always our first,
humbled by a mirage., in a golden gown dress.
Realized too late the secret your parents kept,
all the plans they'd made for you..
plain enough to see I wasn't part of them.
Not enough coins lined my pockets to set you free,
at least not enough for them to ransom you to me.
Some days found me prayin',
some I cursed right out loud.
Wonderin' does the one you share today in,
know the goldmine he had found.
Did he bring you eyes full of stars,
and promise all his tomorrows.
Realize what heaven sent gift you are,
never lament a heart left to sorrow.
Does he read them bedtime stories,
and tuck them into bed..
Listen to child borne wonders and worries,
every wild dream that fills their head.
And did you share those freckled hands,
every time you stopped to tie their shoes..
protect them with those same plotted plans,
your parents chose for you.
Do you ever hear that record playing..
among the distant stars that shined so bright?
New days come, battles lost and battles won..
lost in heartfelt wish that I'd been born..
that lucky seventh of seventh son.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You don’t know this but
we’re all ISBN’s. At birth,
we’re tattooed across our asses
with barcodes, ID tags, social security numbers.
The only doctors allowed
to perform this surgical move
were trained in suits and sunglasses,
were handcuffed to computer suitcases,
held galas in mansions in the hills
of Virginia, roamed secretly through tunnels
beneath Abe Lincoln’s feet, they infiltrated
every hospital, mandated staff to hand over
the key cards. Don’t be alarmed.
Chocolate brownies can still
hold good dreams, peanuts, and marijuana.
This information should not stop you,
you wondered before about those
seven digits printed across the tops of your pay stubs,
didn’t you? And the 48906 signature on every document
from your university.
Yes, you see now. All along,
that tattoo on your soul numbers destiny:
one of the numbers stands for the birthday
of your child, one for the day your parents will find
cancer sinking its teeth in their osteoperostic bones,
and one lists the street address of the building
you will die in. The hospital’s phone number
is merely a set of numbers. Ask them
what they’ve done to you, and they’ll shrug
their white-collar shoulders.
To view this poem on my blog, visit http://wordsareaneed.blogspot.com/2014/12/lucky-numbers-2-10-24-65-93.html.
There once was an old elf from Sweden
who envisioned Ireland as Eden.
He made the trip west
and in a gold chest
found shoemakers’ tools to succeed in.
written March 29, 2017
I volunteered in a soup kitchen to help the needy;
the homeless and the lonely, the addicts and the seedy.
For me in the kitchen, it was a place to socialize,
while I was helping out with many others doing likewise.
Susie James who is a single girl had trouble finding work.
Susie volunteers her time so, she is not one who will shirk,
helping out and giving smiles when handing out the soup,
and so becoming well respected in amongst our group.
Alas Susie admitted, with some sorrow in her voice,
when it comes to men she is forever making a wrong choice.
Susie explained that men she’s drawn too always have to lie,
for they are either married or have partners that is why.
So when a young man unbeknown has entered to assist,
Susie’s eyes were roving and she just could not resist,
to call this handsome man across to us and he didn’t balk,
and I heard the conversation as the pair of them did talk.
The first thing Susie asked him; “Are you a married man?”
“Not in the eyes of man”, he said, when answering dead pan.
‘So this man’s not married’, Susie smiled. ‘That’s a start at least’.
“Do you work?” And he replied, “Oh yes, I am a priest”.
Leveret scurries
Trained ears, panoramic sight
Saved - by a hare's breath.
Easter Bunny blinks
Burrows the deep undergrowth
Close shave this morning
Rhythmic creaks and gentle squeaks
from the withered old wooden rocking chair
fill the sweltering late summer afternoon air
a peaceful breeze blows across his tepid brow
the old man begins to weep
as he thinks of his wife inside
Drips and drops and a little splash
fall down into the half-full sink
a lemon scent mixed with her lilac essence
warm the cozy spotless kitchen
The old woman plates coffee gateau
smiles and sits next to him
offering a taste of her treat
Rich creamy chocolate and a hint of hazelnut
he savors every bite of her love
He smiles and whispers
how lucky he is to have her
Life it can be complicated,
cruel and unkind.
Why does it have to be like that?
The answers I can’t seem to find.
Some days I feel hard done to,
Downtrodden, my life’s unfair.
Then I take a good look around,
And realise I shouldn’t despair.
My life’s not perfect but who’s life is?
I know that grateful I should be.
Give me health and happiness,
Any day over being wealthy.
I have 3 healthy beautiful children,
A mother whom I adore,
A bunch of other lovely relatives,
My husband, a few friends, who needs more?
Yes we have no spare cash,
But we have house over our head.
Yes we work very hard for what we have,
But we rest every night in a bed.
Our loved ones are mainly healthy,
Managing to live out a good life.
Not going through what others have been,
Never knowing their losses and strife.
Some people they aren’t half as lucky,
They face struggles I’ve never known.
I can’t imagine having to sleep in a box,
And calling that box my home.
Some people are born into poverty,
Having to beg to get anything to eat.
out in the freezing cold weather,
In doorways they take their seat.
Now can we just think about sickness.
The best we can have is our health.
As without that we have nothing,
Its truly a poor mans wealth.
Don’t get me started on abuse.
The victims who’ve experienced the pain.
I can never begin to imagine,
How they can ever rebuild their lives again.
Those soldiers who have been to war,
Who’ve seen images more than horrific.
With little help when they return,
They need something soporific.
So now I feel bad for feeling down,
I have no reason to be glum.
Because in fact, I have an amazing life,
And the best part is being a Mum.
It came to me once before
I said please I want no more
But it came to me twice
Please go away it would be nice
All the chaos and distress
My life was surely a mess
I said I can beat you this time
My life would just be fine
Then you came a second time
There was no reason or rhyme
The second time they were wrong
Time was eternity it took so long
The cancer did not come back to me
I was one of the lucky ones you see
Some people do not have that fate
They find cancer and it's way to late
In the aura of love my heart hinders,
All that is left is my strength of sorrow,
Where livid lamenting turns to cinders…
Veneration embracing the morrow.
Like a weeping willow my tears cascade,
Over ten thousand years will come to pass…
My thoughts of you slowly fearfully fade,
Only the strength of sorrows keep their mass.
Incidental idyllic illusions,
Falling upon my magniloquent mind…
Amidst woeful weakness of seclusions,
Stagnant statues of sorrows left behind.
Within a state of submissive supine,
An empath of love where sorrows confine.
Strength of Sorrow…Theme
10 Syllables per line
July.26.2019
17 is the Lucky Number -
Rhyme Poetry
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
Background music by...
Two Steps From Hell
'Heart of Courage'
Thomas Bergersen
Invincible 2010
With male virtual voice
Placed 1'st...Thank You
Many moons ago
your starlit beautiful
the day of birth dreams began
Circling true warm dust
was cast into the wake
of wishes floating sparks hot
Burning arrow head
fires destinies spark
igniting winks hope is born
You came in a dark
nightlight crystal clear cut
dressed satin white holding flames
Finding a peace of heaven
inside a breathless whisper
sighs love unconditional
Been so lonely a long, long time
Cannot do it wrong, wrong time
So dazed and confused
That I feel slightly used
From some abuse I sustained long ago…
This could have made me go very slow…
Not on your life, I go very fast…
I want to get there, Don’t want to be last…
I was beat like a man by the time I was 5
It is a wonder that I came out alive
My grandmother died at the hands of this man
It is a cold case file so what’s the plan
I could never do what was done to me
Wanting my children to be wild and free
Live your life freely for you will know
To open your eyes and watch the show
I lived a life that was not for the meek
Scared for my life every day of the week
Once it was known what happened to me
My mom made it so we could be free
She was scared for her life as well you know
Now none of that matters we were able to go
Holding a knife to his greasy throat
She escorted him out to the dirty road
How lucky we are to be free
I sure am happy to be me
My children have children that make me smile
Think I will go run the miracle mile
A,B,C alphabetic
1,2,3, arithmetic
Two eyes of academic
Alphabetic and arithmetic
What logic in alphabetic?
What Ethic in arithmetic?
No letter comes prosperous
No figure goes dangerous
No letter brings luckiness
No figure brings luckiness
God given the time
Don't blame,it's crime
No letter writes divine
No figure counts not divine
At seven counts of teen
Gate way is thirteen
A,B,C alphabetic
1,2,3 arithmetic
Two eyes of the academic
Arithmetic and alphabetic