Best Medal Winner Poems
Johnny-Jump-Ups nestle into the forest floor mosses,
Along with dainty Jack-in-the-Pulpits hiding beneath
The larger fronds of swampy ferns soaking up moisture
From the dew-laden flowering branches of laurel
Where I find myself dreaming in the verdant woodland,
Edging the meadow beyond the cluttered beaver stand.
A canopy of vine-entangled branches, a vault-like nave,
Provides a sanctuary of sacred candles dimmed for mass
A pew-less haven for wounded souls, and tiny chipmunks,
Who scurry to find isolated spots for quiet meditation
While grebes and gallinules make up the choir ensemble;
A purple swamphen takes up the guttural baritone line.
The late morning is mine, sitting along the narrow trail
In a cross-legged yoga pose with arms across my knees,
Soaking up the faint sweet smells of sassafras and pine
And slipping into what I sometimes call my “blue funk”
Where nothing on earth matters outside this quiet shelter,
Dozing softly, I dream of a utopian sweet, elusive peace.
FIRST PLACE WINNER (TROPHY)
June 25, 2022
Submitted to: "Poetry Marathon Mile 5" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Written on June 3, 2021
Selected for FEATURED POEM
On the front page of All Poetry,
September 13, 2021
GOLD MEDAL WINNER
"5 Golds or Less - Profanisaurus" Poetry Contest
All Poetry, December 11, 2021
Appeared in "It's Still Poetry"
Poetry Soup Anthology - 2021
CreateSpace, Amazon publication
Do not think me overly confident
Because I believe the obvious fact?
Do I come across as arrogant
Because I have thought processes you lack?
Do not yourself be as the ignorant are
Who buy into wild conspiracy theory
Or follow "leaders" who do not care,
Thinking only of themselves, so wearily
I find it sad you blather on unceasingly,
That you are convinced of dangerous lies
Which would undermine common decency
Destroy the values on which America relies.
Do you really think against all evidence
The 2020 election was riddled with fraud
Or are you searching for some confidence
In a thing greater than yourself to applaud.
Have you asked yourself recently how
You can make your country great again.
What is your motivation for acting so now
What can you hope in desperation to gain?
GOLD MEDAL WINNER
"Create a Theory" Poetry Contest
All Poetry - October 19, 2021
The hallowed evening is deafeningly here
Goblins and witches' loud shrieks are near,
Shelled corn raining down our outer wall
Our whimpering dog is cringing in the hall,
Some snotty-nosed kid bangs on the door
A plastic pumpkin for candy wants even more,
The tiny young princess calls out trick or treat
A four-year-old drummer boy never misses a beat,
That big-footed clown lives up our lane
The kid with the rattle is driving me insane,
An older woman whom I cannot figure out
Is collecting for UNICEF, somehow, I doubt,
One more creature from the black lagoon
Or a big, black hairy animal like a baboon,
I will take in my candy and drop out of sight
Turn off the porch lamp and call it a night.
FIRST PLACE GOLD MEDAL WINNER
"Brevity - Halloween" Poetry Contest
All Poetry - October 9, 2021
FEATURED POETRY SOUP POEM
June 20, 2021
FRONT PAGE PICK
All Poetry
October 5, 2022
October 7, 2022
Submitted to: "2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 16" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
As a seventeen year old competitive swimmer,
the other swimmer I looked up to was Mark Spitz,
he was a multiple gold medal winner,
a wonder in the water, a swimming blitz.
I had Olympic dreams,
my element was the aquatic,
but life took me in another direction, it seemed,
the lure of going to practices seemed less exotic.
How I loved the smell of the pool chlorine,
I sliced through the water as if a dolphin,
I so cherished the marine,
but other obligations needed to fit in.
The working world was calling,
and aspiring for the Game's gold had to
be retired,
but I was elated Mark had world records
falling,
and I still feel inspired.
As another Summer Olympics comes to
a close,
I'm proud of the athletes who devote their
time and sweat to their sport,
and I surely suppose,
I'll always treasure my long ago youth
in New York. ~
My sister said, "Let's go dancing.""Not a chance."
"I don't know how. I don't know how to dance."
"They give beginner's lessons at The Yellow Rose.”
"They'll have a live band to keep you on your toes."
I gave in to her begging and gathered up my *****.
Those at the Rose were probably already drunk.
So I said, "What the heck; how hard's it gonna be?
Those guys are too busy to watch the likes of me."
In most of my endeavors, it's always been my fate,
there's some hidden truth that I didn't anticipate.
Every song had a different dance, no two were the same.
I stood with eyes popping, thinking this was insane.
"What kind of style is this?" I muttered, watching the dancing.
They were clapping and yelling,, twirling and prancing;
with thumbs hooked in pockets and fancy boots on their feet,
they shuffled, hitched and swayed to a crazy country beat.
Not dancing with one another, they formed a perfect line,
turning and bumping hips and stomping in double time.
They even did a Cha Cha,, a Charleston step or two,
Cheater's Waltz and Black Velvet, twining through.
Sister said, "Come on, let's go!" Well, it's do or die,
maybe I'll flop, maybe not. I'll never know, unless I try.
I wound up teaching beginners at West Side Senior Center,
and at local "Silver Games," became a gold medal winner!
I performed with the gang at nearby nursing homes,
in matching western costumes and sequins in our combs.
I stand alone on a hillside barren
Of trees and rocks, and similar thing,
Once they were lush with foliage green
But now they are stripped of everything.
Ancient mountains verdant ripped away
The price of greed more than evident,
By harvesting narrow top seams of coal
Crushing heavy equipment came and went.
West Virginia’s hills were once majestic
Grand and proud they towered brave,
Where I stand alone on a hillside barren
Saddened like standing before a grave.
Coal barons who built a mansion near
Must feel the pangs of injustice here.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand's Sonnet Contest
July 21, 2021
SILVER MEDAL WINNER
"Where Have All The Mountains Gone" Poetry Contest
All Poetry - October 10, 2021
Hallowed evening is deafeningly here
Goblins and witches loud shrieks are near
Shelled corn raining down our outer wall
Our whimpering dog is cringing in the hall
Some snotty-nosed kid bangs on the door
A plastic pumpkin for candy wants even more
The tiny young princess calls out trick or treat
A four-year-old drummer boy never misses a beat
That big-footed clown lives up our lane
The kid with the rattle is driving me insane
An older woman whom I cannot figure out
Is collecting for UNICEF, somehow, I doubt
One more creature from the black lagoon
Or a big, black hairy animal like a baboon
I will take in my candy and drop out of sight
Turn off the porch lamp and call it a night
FIRST PLACE GOLD MEDAL WINNER
"Brevity - Halloween" Poetry Contest
All Poetry - October 9, 2021
FEATURED POETRY SOUP POEM
June 20, 2021
FRONT PAGE PICK
All Poetry
October 5, 2022
From prehistoric stone there was sharpened a point then a spike:
chiselled and engraved and hoisted and thrust,
raised high above men toward a target lofty, afar in a field.
Competitors rose from primordial waters,
harpooning dreams and dripping ambition,
tired and bruised but practiced and hopeful.
Javelin was once rock was once bone was once wood
is now painted is now plastic - from caveman to athlete
from mammoth beater to medal winner.
From grey pebble there became arrow,
from misstep there became podium
and a golden first-place pedestal.
RuPaul is one of the happiest people I know
Spreading joy and sunshine wherever she goes,
Quick-witted and sharp as a tack they say
She’s worth a few million dollars in residual pay,
[always dresses to the nines, be it female or male]
With hair and makeup to be envied by most
RuPaul has every reason, I think, to boast,
For her Drag Race alone she is known far and wide
I know, I know, there are some who will chide,
But RuPaul is an entertainer to be admired
By every person whose success she inspired,
And regular folks, too, can sound her praises
For every unique individual she gladly embraces.
GOLD MEDAL WINNER
"RuPaul" Poetry Contest
All Poetry
April 15, 2022
Written April 12, 2022
[for an All Poetry contest]
Why do we call hurricane winds acts of God
Instead of calling them acts of nature?
Who is to blame for countless acts of fraud
Shall we lay them at the feet of our culture?
SILVER MEDAL WINNER
"4 Lines" Contest on All Poetry
December 10, 2021
written November 9, 2021
Can I claim to be Christian without casting judgment
in ways that aren’t Christ-like? Aspiring to faith proves faith’s real?
Or does saying, “I’m Christian,” more grant I’m a sinner
apart from God’s Grace that Christ bought on the cross as it’s price?
Can humility honor self-praise, “I’m disciple?”
Can Grace I derive from Christ’s blood be man’s ‘willful sin’s’ salve
when the fact makes a lie of what I pray redeems soul?
Christ taught, “Works aren’t proof of our faith (that can lead us to boast!)”
Let us pray that Grace lives in what Christ says shows pigment
the colors Love brings when works flow from changed hearts to reveal
what faith looks like: the servant: the gold-medal winner?
Is faith shown in mercy (to others?), a grand sacrifice?
Best to work in ‘our wisdom’ or rest in ‘Christ’s Gospel’
that swears that it’s only in faith one gets saved? Is improv
soul’s best gambit, vague hope time discovers a loophole?
The best one can give to this world is a succinct riposte?
Long Tooth
October 21st in 2020
As far as my eyes could see were old stones
Storied lives, some remembered, most forgotten,
Once were flesh and blood, now only dry bones.
I wondered how many of them were misbegotten
Their worth now easily assessed with a few zeroes,
Storied lives, some remembered, most forgotten.
No doubt some were rogues, some honored heroes
Whatever their fortune at death they now have not,
Their worth now easily assessed with a few zeroes.
Each with only one thing in common, a grassy plot
Sweet-smelling flowers placed with due respect,
Whatever their fortune at death, they now have not.
I came here timorously, not knowing what to expect
Would I somehow experience a new appreciation
Sweet-smelling flowers placed with due respect?
Walking among these stones with a rapt hesitation
[As far as my eyes could see were old stones]
Would I somehow experience a new appreciation?
Once were flesh and blood, now only dry bones.
BRONZE MEDAL WINNER
Written June 30, 2022
"Anything You Wish No. 15" Poetry Contest
All Poetry
July 6, 2022
I’ve always been your number two
The person left behind
That person staring at your back
While you’re waiting in a line
I’m your knight in shining armor when the clouds are full of grey
But I’m the coal in your stocking when you awake on Christmas day
I’m your second place, half size, water half in the glass
That person know one knows about when you’re talking amongst the class
I’m your gold medal winner when you’re looking for a ride
Yet your second place trophy once you have arrived
I’m the part of the chicken bone when you can’t make a wish
I’m the dirt stuck on the bottom when you’re rinsing out a dish
I was your light in the sky when the sun could not shine through
Now that I’ve served my purpose I’m an afterthought to you
I’m your subordinate, assistant, that person in the rear
Yet was always your supporter, the backer, who showed you know fear
I see it now and what I am; I’m your second place
I’ll never be that someone you can look straight in the face
I’ve learned my lesson, paid my dues; I’m no one’s second place
I’m that kind hearted person who will let you win the race…
scarlet beauty peers
through my window each morning
her spirit returns.
January 17, 2021
SILVER MEDAL WINNER
as "Early Morning Visitor"
for Haiku Contest - All Poetry
July, 2021
Her golden locks glide grandly through our gladioli gilded garden gateway,
I gulp ginormous groundbreaking gulleys,
telltale tear tsunamis cut cataclysmic currents,
raw reckless rupture of romantic render,
terror-stricken tangential tamper seal evidence
on lumpen lunge lonesome lachrymose levee
Abandoned to anthemion arch ambience awash or afloat with apoplectic angst,
afterthoughts amazing amplitude aligns with an amorous abundance once opulent,
majestic memories marvel at
mystic magnifying glass that multiplies mammoth moods,
separation from silken sensual strand sculpture in sapphire stone,
this stagnant somber seeker must supplant or suppress solitude’s silent shiver
Without warning a wellspring whispered windfall weave from winsome woman,
wide-eyed wondrous wakeful wizardry woos whining wildcard wreck,
a cascade of charismatic crystal colour clusters trial and tribulation trauma that trembles deep inside,
delightful dawn denouement dame drifts in dreamland dale,
“precious pining pristine pearl
I present panoramic passionate parameters to
propitiate bitter broken-hearted baleful bond.”
Fantastic flourish found festoons for emotional evocative environment evolved,
illustrious intimate intrigue inlaid immediately,
Heather’s halcyon harmonic laces labyrinthine lavender love,
heart healing honeymoon handcraft
herald on high,
supreme sensei soulmates savour
sentiment surreal beyond an iridescent infinite inkling
Date Posted : April 11th 2022
First Place Podium Medal Winner
JCB BRUL My Lost and Found Love Alliteration Contest
Judged April 21st 2022