Best Mildness Poems
Wild spirit -
I cherished you tender
within my halo of prana;
careful not to hurt you
as I worked to set you free
using hands of peace
in harmony
with my heart's song
I beheld your fragile form
of freedom lost
as your panicked eyes
pleaded release..
and in those precious
and few sacred moments
I felt you relinquish
your fight or flight
to my mission of mildness...
a unifying lesson of love
befell us that day
as we exchanged gifts -
and when again you flew
through reflective silvery winds
on turquoise wings anew
we elevated in mindful mercy
to compassionate heights
in revered reverberations...
gratified to be reborn
in your new found freedom
Susan Ashley
October 7, 2018
Must money make man mad?
Money makes man mad
Meanwhile, man made money
Must millions make man mad?
Massive money many mention
Mighty materials, man’s main mandate
Making many mentally magnetic
Mean money might mar man
Con-men crave catching cash consistently
Committing crimes continuously
Consequently, they’re caught, captured, killed
While we wonder where we’re
We want wealth which withers
When we wouldn’t wake
We wouldn’t work without weighing ways
When we weigh madness with mildness
We would work with wisdom
When we work wisely,
We would win
MUSE: AKINDELE OLUWAJIMI
Soaking up sunshine on sandy warm shores;
sipping sangria while sampling smores.
Under umbrellas we’re putting to use;
utterly euphoric as the day comes unloose.
Mid-morning mildness is making me muse;
mild mannered time I must never misuse.
Madness of midnight is making mandates;
making fond memories while mingling with mates.
Eating cold eskimo pies by sea’s edge;
enjoying the easy life nothing can enhedge.
Resting by the river with rod and reel;
ready for catfish their tails to reveal.
Tracking the bull toads and catching tadpoles;
Taking it easy as heat takes its toll.
Ice cold sangria will surely incite;
into the icer, our friends we’ll invite.
Mid-summer party and merry we’ll make
memories to make us forget our mistakes.
Ending this etude I hope you enjoyed
every small ethos that I just employed.
June 9, 2018
Contest: Alliteration Old or New
Sponsor: Joseph May
I came out screaming from the womb
No I am not a malcontent, I innocent
Was slapped upon my nakedness. Gloom
Was the first thing I grasp, a dissident
Wet and squirming in ackward light
Suddenly changes, I could not swim
This new ocean of day becoming night
I slept so that I would not know the grim.
My mother's last child sixteen years gone
All the flowers were dried up in their bed
And yet old skies make still a brighter dawn
But someone superior wanted me here instead
I had a purpose before I was conceived
My mission awaited me the day I was born
My father was being rolled up like a sleeve
They were at late evening, I was at morn.
I often wondered what he said to her, before
I am sure they did not hold hands about me
The liquid tongue of tidal waves on the shore
Sang not in prophecy, nor splash of memory
She must have surprised him with surprise
Ebb and flowing either which crinkling way:
O I am about unamask our love's disguise
And then came March, and the phoenix spring
Ecstacy that came long before, now to follow
The puffs and groans of agony, making the wing
Puts a strain on the moth. March is a mellow
Month ending when I am coming new
From the wet blackness where God too
Wet his ankle in the milk mildness of dew
I am a child of spring, but how dry I grew.
What was the boring sum of my days you ask
This waking and sleeping and smiling on cue
When my physiology grounding them in task
Spoke of my humanity, making me like you
O I had such dreams then, not where
I am heading now and still do not know
But where I coming from, the comfort there
And memory fading, fading the more I grow.
Here is the sum of it, the absolute beauty
Of being born, and brimming with reality of God
Heaven is somewhere in the past, O duty
Shall find me there if earth backward would trod
There is a mystery paling life at the edge
Of life, There is a depth in us shallowed by time
And I cannot unthirst me of this knowledge
It is too absolute, and O, it is too sublime
I have a passion to hold a lamp aloft,
to capture one acre of starshine
before the sun writes a new dawn.
Rusting Chevys bloom in the half-light.
Nightjars depart on shadow wings.
Shimmering’s walk toward my window
on silver slippers.
A native mildness calls me out
to the green hollows
where poppies cling to secrets.
I’ve a yen to lean like a greening barn
that’s honeycombed with sky.
The dew bathes, hills run with deer.
The woods hold aloft their nocturnal dreams
while the sky turns those to mist
I am invited to be kin,
to the verdigris of millstones,
to the mist and blood
of feuding legends,
to the weather-worn
secluded places
where dirt roads end
and life proclaims
its right to be free.
KJV: Isaiah 2:4, " ... they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks:" ... by Isaiah son of Amoz re last days of Judah & Jerusalem
Insomuch, the northern rains be as brief,
and the winds tear the southern plains relief,
sobeit, that the realm is the victim,
and the seas rise as victor; its dictum,
praise be not the state claim of righteous earned,
challenge naught by singularity spurned,
howbeit, by a greater force yon ours,
deliver its wrath on the land it scars,
then sheath the swords of heartless warriors,
in their mildness find besprent carriers,
and restore the misty dew dawn's embrace,
while tethering the plains a moistures grace,
and hail the dutious guards their former posts,
and the forces that be, as the realms host's.
A LILY bit me -- how could I pluck it?
Kindness,
is what you do, when you perceive,
that someone has a problem,
or special need.
Goodness,
is a quality that inspires the rest,
to be self-sacrificing, and,
to do their very best.
Faith,
is needed to please God well,
when you have it, he can tell.
Mildness,
conquers rage,
calms it down in every stage,
helps you to turn the page.
John Derek Hamilton November 06,2015
God took the allure of awesome angels
and the pulchritude of priceless jewels.
God fetched the freshness of fountains;
and the matchless might of mountains.
God caught the coolness of dew at dawn,
and the soothing relief of luxury lawn.
God reaped the rare radiance of a rainbow,
and the sweet voice of a special sparrow.
God reached for the royalty of a loyal queen
and the mystery of things unseen.
God wielded the wisdom of ages past
and the freedom of stormy blast;
God garnished the generous grace of nature
with the patience of eternal adventure.
God sought the sweetness of honey
and the amazing acceptability of money.
God wrapped the riches of mother earth;
with the reality of heaven and earth.
God mixed the mildness of twilight moon
with the warmth of sun at noon.
God picked The purity of winter snow
and the glory of heaven's glow...
God then combined all these features
to make a compassionate creature.
To me she is an alluring and amazing art
but her parent named her Zuliat.
Wishing her a wonderful birthday
Filled with great joy all the way.
(c) Adeleke Adeite 2016
Everything was property of the state
life of a serf didn't even rate
tyranny from Lords,Dukes and Barons
production of goods,they weren't sharin'....
Coxcomb magistrate castle seneschal
internal scheming took alot of gall
court intrigue was their special interest
todays politics aren't that different....
A new portal behind every door
a gambit of play being explored
every encounter a game of chance,but,
what do you bear,the cross or the lance?
Crucified was understanding and peace
self improvement were messages laced
drawing together opposing views
in hope that the scattered may be imbued...
But,the North didn't like that ideo
divide and conquer their modeled credo
superior force their specialty
as divided bands are managed easily...
Plantation,indian reservation...
one produces,the other reduces,
civilization,or planned domestication,
one infuses the other defuses,
West Bank,the Gaza Strip
others kept in seperation
docile,servile,beware becoming sterile,
the active mind to waste away
the fallen... entropy to atrophy,
human spirit refuses degradation
treading deliberate indoctrination...
The taming of the animal nature
still engrossed in pain and pleasure,
law required to maintain civility
until we can achieve a true humanity...
Peace is still the want of many
when will humanity be truly ready
we make the choice of what we covet
true soul'diers serve minute by minute...
A new portal behind every door
a gambit of play being explored
every encounter a game of chance,but,
what do you bear...the Cross or the Lance?
( the cross and the lance are symbols
of the old kingdom beliefs of ruling,
with either mildness and severity or
the olive branch and the sword )
There is no poet monster and no killer of dreams.
Some people have imaginary visions, or so it seems.
All the trolls and bullies are gone, except for one,
who continues spinning webs of lies, never done.
No poison snake slithers inside these poetry halls.
No toddler antics committed, but for one who bawls,
crying out about leaders on lists, not being humble.
Boo hoo and hiss, with a pen this one does grumble
With references to "him" and "his" it's plain to see,
the one being slandered stands when he has to pee.
Bitterness runs rampant through veins of cold blood
and malicious words pour forth in an angry flood.
It's a shame this good man has been falsely accused,
but his mind and spirit remain unscathed, not bruised.
His soul is not empty and many call him 'my brother.'
Acrid words don't hurt him when penned by another.
Mildness is a virtue he shows many, without a doubt.
He doesn't look down on others with a haughty snout.
So, Milt, I am proud to be among those you call 'friend,'
and pity the one who besmirches you, trying to offend.
A storm is brewing as oaks hold their gait,
While inky clouds expel flammable, meshed wires
Invading nightfall, hiding the moon in a chain…
And furious thunder prepares a harsh burial
With a lightning that rages from a sky,
To trigger floods , unrelenting like a wild gutter .
So, the mildness of April hastily retreats
As tempest looms unto hour's dark prophecy--
The roses gone gone before their lush flowering
When this firework of lava zigzags
Right before my eyes: a vision of abstract
Mural in a jolted flare, so irefully blinding
That spring’s pageant drowns my view .
For Brian Strand: March 18 Premiere Contest
Submitted 3/10/2018
I have poured out my heart like water
But only those understanding will see
I have laid the grief of the children
before the King appointed to be
I have studied each fragile connection
and the way that men hurt their own
the shield and the scars sealed deeply
and left too many hearts without home
Slave to traditions and teachings
don’t taste don’t touch and don’t care
Ten thousand things that you shouldn’t
of ideological stoning beware
But none can follow examples
of courses they don’t understand
but let’s flay them alive with blazing
and their lives let’s mark with a brand
When learning you to walk upright
when you fell were you beaten and shamed
if just now you are learning to do right
is it just when you fall to be framed
In the gentle stillness
in movement softer than a breeze
pictures of their future
the rest of man at ease
And tender are the Words
that coax the fragile shoots
whose mildness alights
the growth of goodly fruits
Your promises have held me
and voice mine ears carress
in delicate expressions
which avows your loves address
You have drawn us with affection
with persuasions clearly pure
assurances of a truthful pledge
of a love that will endure
In earnest is your bestowal
the announcements of your speech
in readiness to accomplish
to divulge the heart you teach
The essence of your compassion
the ardor of your intent
the center of our being
to its enlargement are we bent
We waded through embankments
and rivers did we ford
sought for the precious things
what is the Truth of Lord
You are the Sun the Moon the Rain
the energy that creates growth
the spirit who supports all Life
and to save it given oath
We will forever turn to you
and happily throw our crown
prostrate in humble gratitude
For the Love within have found
sources : Psalms Proverbs
Ecclesiastes
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
At just 30, please death take this to her:
For I was thinking that life start at forty
For I had hidden the good side of me mother,
For that me, there is another me stealthy;
A good son you once dream, that is not a robber,
rapist, political thug, cultist, dope distributor,
A well educated, that never try to kill his brother
Not a road mugger, and not a village destructor
Kaka, i am no more, that evil is out of me now,
And say good things about me later, please,
Give them my legacy, and lied that i rest in peace
Recall me before age ten; the joy i never know;
And smile I forgot off, mildness son you once love
Alone mother, untroubled, for the rest of my soul.
I can feel the sky,
I can feel the blue sky,
I can perceive the birds
On the sky,
I can feel the floating clouds
On the sky,
Which making an illusion,
A fairy land, I enchanted.
I can feel the breeze,
I can feel the gentle breeze,
I can smell out, the mildness
Of the flower
Blowing with the breeze.
To day all the things around me,
I discover with a new look,
A new sense, a new feeling which
Making me smile.
A new language for forgiveness, patience
Which giving me a different identity
And help me to maintain courtesy.
All that I hate comes to an wonder.
In my last eighteen years
I never seen before.
I want to forget all I hurt,
I want to forget them me hurt,
I want to begin with a new identity,
Because I fall in a love.