Best Mem Poems
"Where flowers bloom, there is color, beauty and fragance, adding joy to life"~ By Poet
My garden now presents a lovely scene
So colorful with flowers unfolding their immaculate petals
And greeting me every morning
In varied shape and size and in sparkling shades
Among them are soothing little white flowers
Which open themselves at night in the lunar light,
Sensual red roses, multi shaded orchids
Flowers of pastel hues, colorful adeniums
And jasmines on creeping stems,
Intertwined and inseparable
Which send out a spray of heady aroma
When the gentle breeze sweeps past them
There are Bougainvillea’s of red, purple, and orange shades
Reflecting the iridescent colors of a setting sun
Rightly called paper flowers with their light weight
And lack of softness and synthetic appearance
These flowers, like torn pieces of crepe paper
Fly about with every sweeping wind,
Landing down scattered here, there and everywhere
Inciting mischief, but causing no harm
Pentas of lavender and white shade are seen
Nodding at butterflies wishing to be kissed and wooed.
Along with flowers grown in pots and soil
There are lovely water lilies in my little pond
Flowers brighten the indoors and outdoors
Lifting our mood and giving us immense joy
Oh Lovely maidens, you are one of a special kind
You bloom and smile for everyone to enjoy
But aren’t you there in my small garden,
Staying regal and proud especially for you and me?
When I was young,
I often clung,
to many little things.
I'd reach up high,
again retie,
my mama's apron strings.
I sometimes did,
what mom forbid,
although she'd make it clear.
Thoughts still linger.
I remember,
through each fleeting year.
Acquainted still,
her stories thrill,
with many left untold.
I can't go back,
though mem'ries track,
to years I'd rather hold.
I'm lost in thought,
it can't be caught,
despite my futile search -
mama singing,
mama bringing,
this small boy to church.
Though I was touched,
and changed so much,
through Christ, the perfect One -
I cannot stay,
time slips away,
from all that she had done.
I try to grasp,
and hands I clasp,
around those many things -
but mem-ry strands,
slip through my hands -
just like those apron strings.
I miss her so.
Emotions show.
There's moistness in my eyes.
I can't withhold,
though I am old,
my oft guilt-ridden cries.
Though sometimes sad,
I'm always glad,
whenever I think of -
my mama's cares,
my mama's prayers,
and her most precious love.
©2011 louis gander / ganderpoems.org
Here he comes again
The keyboard pounder on the loose
Sure wish he’d learn to type
Without the finger abuse
Or overuse of
The Backspace key
Don’t smack me
I didn’t lose your pictures
You should have backed them up
Before you opened that attachment
And invited that worm
Into my circuitry
You bum
Go get some medicine
And wipe that nose mist
Off my monitor
That’s disgusting
Don’t open that file
Here comes that Trojan Horse
You’re on your own now
I just don’t care anymore
Hey, who are you
Where’d my user go
What’s that CD you’re shoving in me
My memory
My memory
My mem…………..
Hello
Welcome to Windows
© 2015 Earl Parsons
SMOOTH TALKER
“’til Christmas? Just two shopping days
With New Year a few more away
Considering (what you call) merchant ads -
manipulation
With Big Dave there still exists a good will
Sensation
Deck the rooms with Dave’s fine ‘threesome’
fa-la-la-la-laa-re-mem-ber Dave
The ad while not in fine spiritual keeping
shows good will with Big Dave, you save
Merry Christmas all you fine shoppers
out there in holiday land
Drop on by for some egg nog and
A tune from our Jingle Bell Band
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Come on down y’hear”
Black russian; White russian If
you dare o0zing sex on the beach
strolls down mem~o~rized long
Island ice tea left me stranded on A
one night affair.
Impacted viberations through
bloody mary's vines quenching
her thrusting thirst for one more
blow~job If you pleaz!!! He Asks.
Convalescing bodies hit the floor
like A G-6 Screaming death
spathums roar....
His Pensive innercourse ; gave
her nothing but gin n' tonic
explossion of self desire on
slippery nipples and A ding o'
ling Rides the roller~coaster
fling.
He now must leave her
with wet dreams
of exotic pleassures......
She stops him for a moment
and asked just one more please
before you go! Good Sir.
He replies: no my lady
Thank~You and goodbye!!!
Drunken Master.... vixen.
Of the many roads that I have taken
the many words which I have forsaken
Never could my passion bring
The lonely heart from which my cistern drinks
Gloom, the comfort of my tears
Tears, the instrument of my fears
Fear, the ransom paid of daring to dream
Dreams, the reward for all my gloomy ideals
Come! Feel the bronzie-blood upon my sleeves
Tilting Forcibly in that brazen breeze
Groaning for you to release thee
Begging in silence, pleading devotee....
Floating,
Hoping,
Wandering,
Despairing
,Fearing
,Soothing
,Exhaling
, Calming ...
Once again, once, .... again
What more can I attain
Must I dare to say
Drifting,
slowly,
dis-mem-ber-ed prey
Date : 4 Feb 2016 ( Inspired by Beethovens Moonlight Sonata )
Cowboy Joe
My dad Joe, often rode the circuit rodeo
He lasso'd horses from the word go
Often he'd break them for many a few
His lasso event went far, for his name's Joe
Many men tried to go faster and win before him
They all found out, they were all left out on a limb
Now Joe didn't have not one mean evil, evil streak
He rode on many long extended trips in his younger peak
And he was one of the best of the happy hunting men for game
Always brought home lots of food for us, so we could all tame
He was one of the best riding lasso of mem who was in Rodeo's Hall of fame
I'm so dang proud to have him as my gifted riding cowboy of a father
Now ya'll come on over and give us a loud caller
For we always got on a full pot of coffee or tea
Cause we all learned from our dearest parents
How to be and expect to respect strangers with
hospitality and have extra edibles like peppermints.
05/05/2015
My hubby, you see he's so perfect,
Never have done anything wrong,
To him, I write this song.
This song of love,
With a single dove.
My precious Angel,
My whole world, my life, my love, my universe,
My everything, My love for him, well words
Just can't describe it, it's like God gave me a
Precious gift, I am never letting him go, never letting
Anyone else date him, not going to let him marry the
Wrong girl. I love everything about you
My baby! You are better than any other boy in
The world, so just stay with mem as I sing my
Love songs about you. Stay with me Forever~N~Always.
My love, they can't keep me away from you, can't keep me
From loving you, can't keep me from singing about you.
I LOVE YOU! ICH LIEBE DICH!
Dedicated To:Dustin James Palmer
Memories
Renewed by scene
A heart carved in sapling
Mighty red oak thirty foot high
Heirloom
Memories can be pronounced mem-o-ries or mem-ries
#Diminished Iambic Meter Poetry
COMFORTING AROMAS
to find comfort in aromas, of past pleasures
intimate, personal, memories ours
human odours, sensual, warm
arousing passion, lust
lascivious grace
a wink
i won’t come back
and the shadow of the horse does not
slide behind the soft clock
chtuck* here
chtuck here
i won’t come back
yes mem
in the air is spread
a sound and silence
and the built stays much
i won’t come back
for digging
the mall is digs
digging for a worm
i won’t come back
please
* an author’s unique approach to resemble the clatter of hoofs
ink stained words
I dropped – they fell
discarded cuz
I cudn’t spell
cudn’t get
the “I’s” and “E’s”
in proper places
to a peas
the winners of
the spelling B’s
who mem or eyes
dick shun rees
a comma coma
quest shun mark
words running on
into the dark
rhythm gone
cadence stolen
by a half-assed
semi colon
rhymes that bear lee
make the grade
spel cheque errors
on par aid
so keep yur cray ons
sharp and brite
color all the words
ewe right
flavor thim
wit spice and hues
ink stained poets
paying do’s.
//with apologies to Dr. Seuss//
John G. Lawless
8/7/2015
There was a war sometime ago where mem were ordered young and old,
to fight the battle keep us safe but for them no escape.
The war went on and the battle raged soldiers dieing everyday,
so many men and boys too side by side fought for me and you.
Viet-Nam what can I say,War of War still killing today.
Agent Orange,Flash Backs too,
many deceases worst than any flu.
One by one they did go for Uncle Sam made it so,
fighting a war they knew not why just to stand shoot and die.
Marching,fighting days on end never knowing if it would end,
or if they would return to the country where they were born.
For the ones who didn't die they were'nt even reconized,
no not one would they meet or even give them an honorary seat.
As for me I have to say they should not have been treated that way.
A Hero's welcome they deserved and crowds of people on every curb,
but instead they fought,died and we didn't as much as say Good-Bye!
Signed;
A Guilty One
She is an epitome of kindness,
a canopy on a rainy day;a well in arid land,
I wish to emulate her gracious benevolent,
Orphans are feed,harlots polished and widows smiled,
The homeless are housed and hopeless hopes were raised,
She illuminates and radiates love among ants and rodents,
such unique *****sapiens!,Oh! mother nature `give us more`.
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Non-premium Mem
Like any other morning, in New York City. Sept. 11 would rain down in memory of
a day that trajecially wasn't very pretty. Like any other morning were live well over
6 million peoples, and before many would awake and be about their daily routine,
the World Trade Center is crash into by airplane's. Folk's began jumping for their
live's and for miles and on, one could hear their scream. And many firemen's and
police officers will sadly loose their life right on the sceen as they attempt to help
the injured. As the building start's to crumple I hear a lady crying very emotionally.
"Where's the Lamb", "why would God allow this to happen".
How defentically whenever trajic strike's as such as what unfolds before our own eye's,
the topic of conversation turns on blame and shame. Still the Great I AM, assures the
emotion that there's no need to worry about the "Lamb". Not to be discontented, the
truth of the mayhem shall be reprimented. He's smiling bright and sunny that emotio-
nal morning as the question come forth from the lip's of the hurt and from family mem-
bers who lost more than anyone can imagion. (many still call-on the "Great I Am")
Yes ground zero produce countless hero's and no need to blame the drama and no
need to not be concern, the joy of getting on and getting up again lie's on the stren-
gth of all who believe's on the "Lamb".