Best Messages Poems
Mixed Messages
One last ticket.
One last seat on the train.
Running fast,
to make it, before there is
no chance to escape,
the fate of the ages.
Stone statues,
frozen in time...
put up, taken down,
pulled apart and destroyed.
Toys to the elites,
making sweeping decisions...
that effect us all.
Shooting rays at the sun,
that warms our world.
There... there is life bleeding out,
in torrents of colors,
red, gold, blue, and even green.
Soon there will be
no living thing...
left.
The rich man buys up acres,
and lets the land go fallow.
The homeless starve in their tents
downtown.
Food lines, and riots by pirates,
a caravan of the starving
mongrels, zombies,
and the lost.
The journey coming to an end,
the roller skates stopped on the concrete...
signs that say go home,
but there is nowhere to go.
"Messages"
Messages are delivered to us
in the strangest of places, we resist
like we are the longest hung revolution,
the biggest most viable important incarnation,
the loudest sonnet to acknowledge the uncanny
timeliness of the unreality of it all,
the removed mathematical equation,
where is the logic in prophecies
waiting for that Pale Rider
to real us into safe quarters
away from the proverbial Storm;
any day now, news will ignite
napalming our unaware safe walls,
walls hung with souls of value
screaming I’m too old for all this
writing and passing of notes
back and forth in school;
to'wit, I’m more than likely, not 1
of the 144, I'm way too sullied,
yet I’ve got hellelujah tribulations galore
Candide Diderot. ‘24
signs/messages
Eyes like a bright moon
Howls shatter the silent night
Messages from wolves
I was listening to roller skating tunes.
Yes, I am shallow, sir.
And though thou may say villainess or mistress,
I am content to be who I am.
One noon, we were over dull
and our hearts we serviced
like two thieves there
in the kissing place
where breaths are both as one
and the first of many kisses doubles.
He made vows in mine ear.
He has such hands and lips
and his fortunate nature fed mine eyes
oh, nothing was scarce.
Our horns locked together
with the intensest chutzpah
and we well-made our match.
We sparked feelings we all ascribe to heaven.
I would not tell you
I can serve a man
that by slow designs
men can melt.
He swore oaths
and dropped
half won.
Later he paid
the sweetest
after-debts
—he did owe it.
.
.
songs for this:
Find Me the Pulse of the Universe by Laetitia Sadier
Stormy (Bossa Mix) by S-Tone Inc
Love's messages
There's a time I remember,
when I didn't know...
a thing about love, and how it should go
A man once told me, just look for the signs...
cause when she wants love,
you need to read between the lines
Chorus
Love's messages...
There are things,
she'll say with her eyes...
History and mystery revealed and
concealed in just one look
Wish all the secret messages
hidden through time,
could be written in a book
I had a hard time,
learning the signs...
I thought,
it must get better with time,
Chorus
Love's messages...
There are things,
she'll say with her eyes...
History and mystery revealed and
concealed in just one look
Wish all the secret messages
hidden through time,
could be written in a book
Bridge
When I see her, I feel my heart starting to burn,
please help me to understand
I feel there's still so much to learn
Now I'm older, and starting to know
When a woman wants love,
and how it should go...
I may not know everything,
and sometimes it shows...
but, you must plant a seed,
if you want love to grow
Chorus
Love's messages...
There are things,
she'll say with her eyes...
History and mystery revealed and
concealed in just one look
Wish all the secret messages
hidden through time,
could be written in a book
Finale
You really need to know how to read the signs
The hidden messages that she sends with her eyes
John Derek Hamilton
August 18, 2018
As above so below
As clouds shine, diamonds grow
Yin and Yang go toe to toe
As old lovers turn to new foe
When heavens of high meet hells of low
You too will know, as above so below
Bite Size Poem no.40 Poetry Contest
If I could reach the clear blue skies,
I'd feel the freedom where the bird flies
In open space, I'd find my way,
spreading the words I have to say
Like a bird song, I would be heard
A positive tune with each word
A light above darkness below,
the rivers of problems that flow
The heartbreaking stories all around,
need resolution with each sound
Healing hearts with music to hear,
eliminating all the fear
This creation, our home, our gift,
is a place for love to uplift
Deafening cries for help exist
We can't ignore or shake a fist
Let us be like the bird and fly
Carry the tune, across the sky
With every step across the ground,
there is always hope to be found
Heidi Sands
10/6/24
*8 syllables
(C)opyright
serene in wisdom
everywhere in nature
the circle of life
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
For 47 years and 2 weeks
He was there by my side
Then the sad day came
When he up and died.
On my way home he was there
And as I turned onto the road to home
Garth Brooks began to sing "The River"
It's message was so profound.
Then at breakfasts some songs they'd play
Were messages to which I could relate
"Remember When," by Allen Jackson
And Garth Brook's song "The Dance"
Rascal Flats song "The Long Lonesome Road"
Could have been his life,
It's message I first misread
Until I opened up my eyes.
With "If Tomorrow Never Comes,"
Garth Brooks breaks my heart
But with his song "Sometimes Other Than The Night"
The message was quite strong.
And then there were times I'd go to town
Where usually business was involved
One of these special songs would play
To let me know he was along.
I'd even turn from station to station
To keep the signal clear
And yes, You are right my friends
One of these special songs would be there.
Yesterday it was "The Dance"
Today I learned the news
The bank had presented the papers on the house
So they could be approved.
Today I learned it had been approved
And Our things we'll once more share
We'll look from our window
And see the buffalo there.
I sometimes wonder if there is a message
In a song Leanne Womack sings
It happens following stressful times
And it's called "I Hope You Dance."
OUR HOME ON THE RANGE, will be just that
For now till the end of time
And I'll continue to read my books
Sharing the life the cowboys had
When the west was free and wild.
This morning when I was getting up I turned on the radio and Garth Brooks had just started singing "THE DANCE".
Born of depth and soul
A peaceful man rests weary
Detained with his mind
Five Messages to My Mother
1-
Did you know
since you went away
there is no rose
can be live.
2-
Did you know
since you went away,
Henna tree is still in a long thirsty.
3-
Did you know
since you went away
my father still remember you,
with love, with all respect.
4-
Did you know
?since you went away,
I hear your invocations,
I saw it falling from the sky.
5-
Did you know
since you went away,
I feel so close to you,
To death.
To heaven.
Hopes and prayers soar in aspiration
In this season of heightened anticipation
When diverse cultures in our great nation
Await their holidays with eager expectation
Channukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa -- in ideation
All Festivals of Light, their candles lit with jubilation
In awareness of their symbolic inspiration
Fervent flames proclaiming messages of liberation
Midst the darkness of December's nocturnal hibernation
And from its accomanying spiritual malaise and dislocation --
Blazing a path to renew mankind's powers of imagination
Rekindling our sense of wonder at God's purposeful Creation
Observer of the skies, I thrill to see
a puppy cloud stretch out to dragon length,
a shapeless mass become a well-formed heart,
or pastel puffs become an ice cream cone.
These sights call forth my best old memories
of playing with my dog and summer treats,
of how my teen heart fluttered when I wore
my first real boyfriend’s class ring on my chain.
A local man I knew saw doves, the Cross*,
and messages from Jesus in the clouds.
A booklet holds his photos of these scenes.
Revisiting my copy gives me pause.
Why would two long-time Christians like us see
such widely-varied scenes among the clouds?
I’ll bet this man prayed fervently to see
some lovely words and images from God,
who chose to send the answers in the sky.
“Ask and ye shall receive,” the Bible says.
I’m praying, and believing, He’ll reveal
some messages from Heaven in the clouds
to bless my soul and move my heart to sing.
*The Cross upon which Christ was crucified
March 8, 2023
Contest: the Each Passing Cloud Poetry Contest Placed 2nd
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are messages
Were written with an encrypted language
And need deciphering
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are words
Were written with all languages
And need reading
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are scattered dreams
Were robbed from the years of the life
And never come true
Only when the love shines in the hearts
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are a silent call
Only the familiar souls can hear it
The secret of its silence is still unknown
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are sharp arrows
Were made of senses and feelings
That are hitting hearts
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are migratory souls
Looking for homelands
All borders were closed in their faces
Till shining the sun of freedom
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are dresses and shrouds
Were woven from threads of the destiny
For showing the suffering of the humans
To know that sadness and joy will end in the grave
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are spells and talismans
Were written from the whispers of the devils
Uncovered the tricks of witches and charlatans
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are shy sighs
Were imprisoned unjustly in depths of the chests
Escaped from the dark prisons
Looking for remains of happiness in luminous prisons
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are hymns and prayers
Were written their tunes from the lights of angels
For curbing the desires and the lusts of sinners
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are stories and novels
Were written from the bloods of innocents
They are still without ends
Until the hope begins with writing the conclusion
Tears are not just drops
That fall from the eyes
Tears are white doves
Were created from the love
For spreading the peace
My body confides in me
in grudging ways,
with little murmurs and signs,
each trying to get attention
without snapping its fingers in my face,
like faint, mysterious radio signals from (inner) outer space
that escape detection often,
comprehension always,
small aches that ghost through my body and
the already over-populated radar of my consciousness,
as if keen on being missed,
rashes like miniature night bloomers on the
vast landscapes of my limbs and torso,
origins unknown,
non-rashes, equally tiny, anonymous things,
that surface but don’t stay long enough
before sinking back into the realm of the forgotten,
eyelid twitching out a code decipherable by no man.
I receive frequent messages,
hinted, insinuated, encrypted.
My body has its own mind.
I’m trying to be a better reader.