Best Mentioning Poems


Premium Member Sweet Youth

Sweet youth with its ghostly shadows of regret 
encircling the mind of an aging maid...like vultures 
       waiting to descend
 
Capturing those passions left unspoken
from a self-conscious shy student in church choir.

His flawless skin drew me in like an invisible magnet.
My eyes followed his every unnoticed move 
        in anguished longing.

My silent lips uttered no audible words even when
he reached out to touch my long deep golden hair.

I reminisce and suddenly he's right here 
His jet black hair and handsome face remain frozen 
in youth as my words left, unspoken.

4-23-19

~Second Place~
Honourable Mentions worth mentioning.
Sponsor Richard Lamoureux
Contest Judged:  5/12/2019 9:11:00 AM

WHAT WAS LEFT UNSAID~HM~
Contest Judged:  4/24/2019 8:46:00 PM
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier |

Dont Fade

NOTE:  This poem means a lot to me for it brings back memories of my childhood. My father, a WWII veteran was, in my eyes, indestructible. There was nothing he could not do.  My mother was a constant loving guiding force that led our home. They were always there for us. Life comes full circle and when I wrote this poem Mom and Dad were failing, elderly and a mere shadow of their prime glory. I missed those times and still do. As I raise my children I am nearing retirement and I wonder what they think of me these days. The same I hope.

Don’t fade Papa, don’t leave us alone,
Where is that strong man,
Who wisely ruled our home?
Strong were his hands that once led,
That picked us up when we fell,
And carried us safely to our beds.
 
Don’t fade Papa,
Who is this broken man before me?
It wasn’t that long ago,
He was the inspiration for us to see.
Life comes full circle to us all,
I am not as strong as I used to be,
“Papa come play ball with me!” I hear my son call.
 
Don’t fade Papa, don’t leave us alone,
Take us back, to our happy home.
 
Don’t fade Mama, don’t leave us alone,
Where is that strong woman,
The guiding light of our home?
Strong was her love that once led,
That tickled out tummies,
And tucked us snuggly into bed.
 
Don’t fade Mama,
Who is this broken woman before me?
It wasn’t that long ago,
She was the example for us to see,
Life comes full circle to us all,
I am not as strong as I used to be,
“Mama have tea with me with me” I hear my daughter call.
 
Don’t fade Mama, don’t leave us alone,
Take us back, to our happy home.

Honourable Mentions Worth Mentioning Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux
5/1/19

Premium Member More Secret Selves

I've been wondering about our secret selves...

The vegetarian smoker
The introverted joker

The soldier with the peace sign
The anonymous byline

The accountant with unfinished sums
The deaf musician's steel drums

The blue collar millionaires
The conservative who dares

The scientist who prays
The vagabond who stays

The man who kneels to take a stand
The female poet who's a football fan 

We are all more than we seem...

12/26/18

Submitted to 'Honourable Mentions Worth Mentioning' contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux

(I like playing with the idea of secret identities, which started me thinking of how everyone is both Clark Kent and Superman, we all have a face we show and a face more private and unseen-)


Faith

***This was perhaps my saddest write after seeing images of homeless and starving children in Romania on the tele; I truly believe that no matter what we may boast to accomplishments as a species --- should even one person  be starving on the Earth --- we can boast of nothing. ***

----- This is a poem of faith and the miracle nature of God Almighty though it may seem He has done "nothing'; since when does a deity not do anything well within their power ---- is such a God worth mentioning? '---- there is either belief or disbelief; like in reality there is or isn't a God, but always righteous faith has its own reward -----




Somewhere another child weeps,
   her mouth dry and thirsty ----
Her stomach throbs from the greed of the world;
   she'd go to the local church
   but her strength won't let her ----
   let her brave the cold
   and the chill of dawn

Her torn torn red dress, sags like lost love,
   and her shoes
   shell-shocked with holes, and travel
   from place to icy place;
Where faces are long and uncaring
Where there is evil and greed and sin

In a rose garden she found herself,
   and herself alone,
   with the delightful flowers
   and a wing and a prayer;
She knelt on her dirty knees to smell
   the clean red petals
And prayed for an early warm day ----
   and praying still,
   the sun had risen before the dawn

Premium Member Stars Tempt Our Senses


It was time to visit the stars
To embrace them with my senses
Though the price was astronomic
I saved up for the expenses

Most think stars are unreachable
Due to the heat that they emit
But perhaps they’re very cautious
Just like a candle barely lit

To my delight way out in space
I manned microphones to listen
And those astral bodies obliged
With unheard of stellar hissin’

Yet as I approached a star’s sphere
After flying the cosmic trades
The brightness was so intense, that
I had to double up my shades

And I can describe what I saw:
Just imagine a sunrise view
As seen, not through a broad window
But rather in the room with you

So no doubt that shine would lead one
To coming to the conclusion
That stars are inhospitable
But my suit was safe for fusion

I attempted smelling their scent
But was honestly not impressed
As the smell was like burnt popcorn
Which is an odor I detest

I couldn’t say that star was burnt
For that flawed logic is misplaced
Yet that stench made me hesitate
To give a roasted star a taste

Sure it twinkles in the dark sky
Like a sugary cosmic treat
But just like mentioning candy
It would probably wreck my teeth

Lastly, touching a star is like
A swimming pool in the hot sun
With those spots of warmer water
Times a million degrees, plus one

Visiting the cosmos was worth 
Having stars arouse my senses
Yet it isn’t for everyone
And comes with some consequences

But don’t you take my word for it
When you are traveling in space
Since stars are an acquired love
To be approached at your own pace

Premium Member And You Are Beautiful Woman of God

Woman of God

Woman of God
You are very speical you are
Woman of God
And you are the very essense of love
And you are speical to God
He’s made you wonderful
And wonderful you are…
   ---------------Beautiful woman of God

Woman of God
You are very loving and 
Woman of God
And you,  you are the very presents of love
And most of all you have heeded the call
You are,  you are wonderful…
    -------------- Woman of God


And you are very speical to me
And you are the most important thing next to God and Jesus
And you are worth mentioning
I pray for you always and over and over and over and over again
 Ahh! I love you so spiriturally and naturally so…
            ---------Beautiful  Woman of God

7/01/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018


Bamboo

Standing straight and tall, I am happy among my next of kin,
graceful and gracious, accepting and at one with nature.
The gentle whisper of the wind is music in our midst,
A cornucopia of chirping sounds, gleeful gifts from the birds.

Do you ever wonder how I have grown at last
For it was only six weeks ago that I was not on this spot
Yet it would seem that right before your very eyes
I suddenly appeared overnight, you were surprised!

My story cannot be told without mentioning the farmer.
Day after day, year after year he never gave up on me.
A powerful testimony of perseverance and trust, and hope and faith 
in The One Almighty and... the power of a dream.

Knowing the value of patience, he waited and cared for me
oh so tenderly and never gave up.  I dared not ever
conceive of disappointing him, so while he gave my needs 
every day, I did what I had to do... I grew.

Not above, but underneath the ground, where no one can see,
to build that inner strength, deeply rooted in my seed.
One day in the fifth year, the right time came and
I literally leaped off the ground. Miracles do abound!

I am ever giving. I give food to the hungry, a shelter 
for the homeless...even a bed. I am seat and a fence.
I provide clothing and more. It is my nature to give.
From my innermost being I provide freshness in the air.

Strong and resilient, I am not cowed by storms
They give their all to topple me from where I stand,
yet I hold my ground. I may bend and sway for the wind,
but after a while I stand, straighten and do not lose my grip. 

I learned to accept my weakness and be proud of my strength
An image of one who is calm, I am at peace with myself.





26 August 2015
© Kp Nunez  Create an image from this poem.

My Age

MY AGE

My age is nothing but a number, nothing but a slumber that I can’t wake from, this is what I’ve done. I’ve looked around and found that the matter of the fact is life isn’t what it’s supposed to be for me.

The average teenager spends most of their lifetime looking at their phones and when it’s time to learn something new their minds have already grown. Absorbing every single thing that they are sold, having a twelve year old’s body and the mind of a twenty one year old.

Social media doesn’t help the situation, it only changes how the different problems are situated. It has stolen complete sentences and created abbreviations, shortcuts of a language used by my generation. You could be laughing out loud when in reality you’re crying, saying TBH to be honest when in actual fact you’re actually lying.
And to that you can’t say anything because if LIFE was abbreviated it would stand for Living In Fear of Everything.
 
This is what I go through, in addition the music industry has had a major breakthrough. It has managed to be more influential promoting sex, drugs and slurs that are racial. “Making money moves” is about dancing on a pole, “Smoke weed everyday” is the daily intake of dope and this is said all while mentioning the one African American slave term that we all know. My nig-...I can’t say it though. So why do you. You have no idea who that affects. Sometimes we need to learn to be more politically correct.

They say that euphoria is just around the corner, behind the school building in a midst of vape. These are the lies they create, saying everything is ok. Just inhale it once and you’ll be done. I’m sorry, you can call me a loner but don’t mistake me for a stoner. One shot, two shots, three shots, four, hard. Call me antisocial but I’ve never drank before and I’m not about to start.

Society is full of influences, temptations and choices. However people like me always end up being voiceless. They think we’re too young to have any serious issues, that’s just another excuse for not wanting to accept the truth. You choose to change the subject to something totally unrelated, “We don’t have many problems?” well isn’t that an understatement?

You say that it will change, you say it’s just a phase, you say it’s another page in my story, no, this stage, right here...

This is MY AGE!

Walk Away

Cheap wine dimmed in the candle light thinking my life's bleak like her dreams keep cramping my sleep and I've had it with uncleaned teeth clamping when they bite like a dog with a lock jaw slamming tight.
Remote needs batteries check her sock draw and I'll find a rabbit with a new batch of soft **** man will like. 
Is she into man or d***
Bet you a dime she likes both now we're slapping high fives and I try and cope.
Leaving alone this whole mess that she has evoked.
I'm only mentioning sexuality as a joke, I know she likes men, she likes those who can fly a fist. 
Getting high and pissed meant we'd f*** first then fight and kiss.
I'm acting like a scientist leading this experiment where she became the guinea pig feeding my intelligence. 
Sent as a saviour they processed her papers. I almost fled home from her reckless behaviour.
The police came arrested her later and she became exactly what they meant by it's heinous. It's crazy we did time from flipping out big time, no big crime though still kept remanded for street fights.
Now I'm out of D side nothing can hold me down so where's my polar cloud sound of shadows feet creeping up. Strengthening the tone of the voice saying keep in touch.
I may have won the battle though I lost what I'd always loved. 
Calm before the storm where I'd walk with my  wolf we'd strut.
Talk tongue in cheek to those speaking some awful stuff with a forked tongue and a weak performance, just fools who wanna reak the rewards for some cheap decorum.
My requirements particular it's the mind I'm born with. 
Giving sincerity, acceptance, respect and integrity.
Serenity prayer on my ribs so remember me.
I've been through some hard times in hell and kept going till I past it.
The ***** tried to harm my existence and this time I stayed calm got her evicted.
This is one minute of my story so listen up.
Failures not fatal, success ain't permanent.
It's not giving up what matters and I'm sure of it.

You Have My Permission To Shoot Me

( … if you catch me doing one of these.)

Naming any baby Finton, 
voting for Hillary Clinton, 
complimenting Nascar, 
moving to Nebraska, 
using "literally" to mean "very", 
calling Derry Londonderry, 
uttering the word "redact", 
claiming Johnny Depp can act, 
saying society's to blame, 
mentioning fifteen minutes of fame, 
feeling sorry for Amanda Knox, 
watching anything on Fox, 
or even one second of Jerry Springer, 
making speech marks with my fingers, 
drinking alcohol alone, 
admiring Sharon Stone, 
labelling anyone a pagan, 
sighing "bring back Ronald Reagan", 
playing Rod Stewart's "We Are Sailing", 
paying money to see Van Halen ... 
(and if ever, instead of clever, 
I say smart, 
I promise to wear - 
right there - 
a target across my heart.)

Get Back Up

To count where I failed you'd need more than two hands
If you focus on my mistakes as a boy, you don't deserve the new man
I fell short so many times, but I always got back up
I made it this far, so how can you tell me I'm not enough?

Born into a world of neglect and addiction
Parents too busy drinking to dress and feed me
I used to wonder why did they leave me
Now i know being put into foster care was the best decision 

Social workers neglected me for 2 years, and left me in an abusive home
Parents shouting and fighting, then going out and leaving me alone
Social services made me a file, but neglected me until 2 years later
My parents fighting drunk, while I lay crying, not been fed for 3 days, They received a call from neighbours

By the age of 11 I'd been passed around 27 foster families
I couldn't settle, Psychological problems, but how could my past not damage me?
I needed love and care, not be made to feel like i didn't matter
Crying alone, but when with the world I was giving laughter

Age 12 I got moved into a children's home
Which slowly became my building zone
Eminem obsessed, couldn't go a sentence without mentioning His name
Played his music at full volume, as I related to his pain

Age 14 my so called dad died, and he's lying in a box
Didn't shed a tear, cause he never checked on me, when I was crying in a cot
Can't miss what I never had, got bullied, Picked myself up and fell harder
Age 15, I was more alone than ever and became a self harmer

I became addicted to the pain, it became more than healing
The blade came somewhere for me to store my feelings
Long sleeves in summer, I wouldn't let my arms show
Smiling for the world, despite the fact my heart's broke

This was 10 years ago, I'm now 4 years free from self -Injury
Mental health problems still live in my mind, but I was made for it mentally
This is just part of my story
But I've got back up and i'm now putting my heart into my glory
© Alex Duffy  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Praying For a Flat

The wheels
                                in the brain         and round
                            go round                       and round
                        and round                           and round
                      and round                               and round
                     and round                                 and round
                    and round              o   O              and round
                     and round                                 and round
                      and round                               and round
                        and round                           and round
                           and round                     go round
                                and round           in the brain
                                                The wheels










Honourable Mentions Worth Mentioning Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lameuroux


    This piece, I believe, is my finest shape poem to date. However simple, with the wheel there is an implied spinning motion, the hub providing a sense of a third dimension, and together they create the impression of an exasperated face~ stuck, in the "round and round and round..." of obsessive thought patterns.

Premium Member To All My Pals

You want me to pick just one!
I can’t do it.  It can’t be done.
Selecting one is just too hard.
All the others I can’t discard.

Andrea was the first to welcome me;
Jared’s challenges allow me to see;
Chris entertains me with his exuberant youth;
John helps me to seek the truth.

Linda-Marie made me a member;
There’s so many more to be remembered.
Constance and Carrie and Amy, too;
Please forgive me for not mentioning you.

I know I am not following the rules you set,
But not selecting them all I would regret;
It’s not just a single person that’s been a pal to me,
It’s the whole, damn entire PS community.

Larry and Bob and the Poet Destroyer;
Jimmy and Carolyn and others who are newer;
The Doc, Barbara and that Highlander guy;
I am missing others, I hope they understand why.

There’s Tirzah and Carol and nikko with the small “n”;
Audrey and Joyce – I can’t forget them;
Mac and Doris, Daniel and Catie;
And other special gentlemen and ladies.

So rank my entry at the bottom of your list;
I really don’t mind not winning this,
But Adeleke I want to thank you for urging me
To recognize these friends so publicly.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Mindfulness

regrouping
i take a deep breath
like nothing else matters
owning the moment

basking in its magnificence
relishing in the focus
the intensity of being present
the pulsating rhythm of consciousness
and synchronized openness

making peace with time
letting go of the past
of what’s ahead of what’s next
experiencing life in segments

having sublimely discovered
the secret to stretching time
measuring life in instants
and gaining a feeling of…

if not control at least harmony
as it becomes a way of life
showing me what’s most rewarding



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~MINDFULLY~ 2021

AP: 1st place 2021, Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on May 3, 2019 for contest HONORABLE MENTIONS WORTH MENTIONING sponsored by RICHARD LAMOUREUX... For a workaholic with constant time constraints, it is a big step to finally find the power within to slow life down.  -  RANKED 4TH

Originally submitted on February 8, 2019 for contest MINDFULNESS sponsored by CHANTELLE ANNE COOKE  -  HONORABLE MENTION

Premium Member Soup Du Jour

"Had I not broadened my menu, I never could have developed Good Taste" 
                                                                                

With all these ingredients, that have simmered in this soup
Has made some tasty dishes, from caviar to poop
With chefs from 'round the world, and recipes sublime 
Has made their kind of poetry, a favorite meal of mine  



PS: the part mentioning the poop (pooh) is attributed mainly to Jan Allison's contributions in the Soup, You've Got to Love Her !

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