Best Misplace Poems
"At the end of my life, with just one breath left, if you come then, I'll sit up and sing. That cannot now be said or written." Rumi
Lyrics of loneliness liberate in a lucid language,
lulling loveless librettos of lamenting loss.
In deadly depths of darkness,
deep desires dipped in despair,
misplace my marooned mind
in metaphorical mists of misconception.
Deserted in a domain of demons,
there's an aura of angst amongst absent angels.
When reality resembles a betrayal of butterflies,
withered wings wilt in wild winters without a wish.
In timeless tender tunes of tearful toxic torment,
nocturnal nightingales cry in a crepuscule chorus,
confessing caged crescendos in cryptic codes.
Sickness slithers in sinister silence,
as grinning Grim Reaper reveals his reflection.
My sojourner soul seeks a saviour's silhouette.
Who soothes in seraphic serenades of serenity.
To float in fate's fountain of featherless freedom.
In forbidden fields where fluorescent flowers flourish forever.
Her effervescent eyes exhale an elixir,
evoking an exotic, enticing, everlasting epiphany.
Enchanting in echoes of an Edenic enduring enigma.
Beneath bluebells, breathless and broken,
let me lay inside the lilacs of her amorphous aroma.
Her swan song closing chapter of my chronicles.
A halcyon harmony of heavenly harps,
guiding my gondola towards golden gates of grace.
You don’t even look back, as I stand here in the rain,
I can see your shoulders shake as you walk towards the train,
In-my-mind I see your mother, your walk, your hair the same,
But it’s you this time who’s leaving, will I see you again.
And even today as you walk away my mind is starting to fade,
I have to face the fact that that won’t change,
Even if you had stayed.
I remember when you took your first unsteady little step.
Tiny shoes that gave you freedom I never told you that I kept,
Your first time on the school bus or the dollhouse that you wrecked,
And all those times that you got hurt, I hugged you as you wept.
At mealtimes as you grew older I would ask you to say grace,
I remember when I taught you how to tie your lace,
When you told me of your first love, the glow upon your face,
Some past events I can remember, new memories I misplace.
But even today as you walk away these memories are starting to fade,
I know I’ll eventually lose them all,
Even if you had stayed.
You’ve been leaving me, little by little, I’ve known it for some time,
I didn’t want to tell you nor show any outward sign,
I didn’t want to see your pain, or you to witness mine,
I’d like to hold on to the memories, ’till I see you again.
So someday when you do return and come to visit me,
Will you look at me with tears in your eyes,
And ask, - Daddy can you remember me
As the December portion of life's treacherous journey arrives,
We tend to contemplate things that have happened in our lives.
Strange that we can recall events that occurred fifty years ago,
But now can't remember what day it is, adding to our woe!
Writing notes to ourselves regarding things that must be done,
We forget where we put them, leaving many things undone!
Tying a string around the finger to remind us of our obligations,
We wonder what it is doing there, adding to our frustrations!
Where the car was left in the parking lot is anybody's guess.
To find it is akin to the Israelites wandering the wilderness!
We misplace the house and car keys, causing panic untold,
But that's just another cross we must bear for growing old!
Going to another room to do something, our steps we retrace,
Having forgotten what we went there for in the first place!
Running amok searching for lost glasses causes us much dread.
Usually they can be found perched upon the crown of our head!
Those dreaded senior moments are part of growing old I suppose,
But if I may, here is something that I would like to propose:
Well, I declare! I forgot what it was I was going to say!
Maybe I'll think of it later to suggest another day!
To never see your face again
To lose the map of your body
To misplace memory itself
For example
Today I lost your nose
I couldn't remember which nostril
Was bigger
Last month it was your facial hair
How it felt against my flesh
I still hold on to your aftershave smile
But the hair on your forearm
is still vivid
Brown red and black
An earthly pallet
Like ivy climbing up you arms
You hated your bodily hair
You shaved it every month
I begged you to save it and love yourself
I recall diving my face
Unto your chest hair
It got warmer
The deeper I dove
those lazy afternoons
How the fog transcended us both
I took naps on your stomach
As the cats watched us
Remember when you punched that guy
And he tried to strangle you
I clawed his face
His wife pulled my hair
That was our honey moon
You called the police
I called my mom
And cried
You visited me in the hospital
With guilt dripping from your eyes
Words flew like poisoned darts
Others wanted us apart
But we stuck
Each carrying their cross
Were we ever Heroes?
Doubtful
We were the fools
Laughed at by the children
we never birthed
I wanted to say goodbye
But I was too angry to realize
That goodbyes are a formality
When your soul suddenly dies
We will never have Paris
We hated it
Instead, We will each cry
In a separate house
Until one day
Not far
My face becomes elusive
Your face turn muddled
What is left
This emotional leftovers
Is the essence of what once was
-----
Manar Ammar
Cairo, 2015
If I'm not normal should I conform
and seek to perform as all do
or should I reach to perfect my form
and be how I was born true
There's safety in numbers
but this one wonders
if one mind wanders
walks afar in sunder
while others slumber
standing to ponder
previous blunders
could the one that wanders
understand wonders
give back to numbers
who will then wander
beyond to yonder
as those once stunners
become common runners
out of the box thinking stuns some numb,
it's a heavy weight knockout they come undone
for others to have thoughts you wrestle is fun
a combination they shuffle like a champion
commoners thoughts pace up and down
the same sites with the same sounds
facing lows and heights on the same grounds
hoping to sight delights unfound
but it's not how I do as I venture out on random paths
the way untraveled collect clues bits quarters make halves
with half an idea plough through though told it's daft
until I announce I've something new which stops laughs
so should I conform against my nature
work to reform and advance my stature
live untrue to me as though an actor
allow only unnatural attributes to factor
why misplace and waste so it's untraced
and put in its place the common taste
when I could embrace what can't be replaced
and chase it and ace with my victory face
POTD 9/7/2019
Warning - Don't read The Raven and Watch Hitchcock on the same night.
Once before my bedtime, nearing, which I dreaded, fazed and fearing,
Stories mother would read me before she closed and locked my bedroom door —
While I washed up in the water, could mom have drawn it any hotter?
Before me swam a rubber duckling, chuckling as my mother shut the door
“‘Tis some water fowl”, I muttered, “which mother bought me from the store.
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I can place it - the sad night Mother would misplace it;
Or entirely erase it; of her mind remaining nothing more.
I lay in bed, mother tucking, on feathers of mother’s plucking
Time for your book, said mother clucking, clucking as she locked the bedroom door —
I’ll read “Make Way for Ducklings” and then warm milk she began to pour -
all across the bedroom floor.
Assuredly, I felt no sorrow, as mother left me till the morrow
Sighing - buying time – which maybe I could only hope to borrow;
I heard my monstrous mother screaming, or maybe Tippi Hedren streaming
as Hitchcock’s “Birds” was beaming from the TV laying on the floor—
“’Tis just Hitchcock’s “Birds” beaming from the TV laying on the floor” -
This it is and nothing more.”
Inside that book peered at me smiling, a crazed duck that set me dialing
911 and protective services to frantically implore
The feeling in my stomach sinking, “I need a friend”, I was thinking
Staring wildly at this ghastly mallard who chilled me to the core
Then, at once, I saw it, heard it, this grinning duck needn’t chill me to the core
as he said, “I will be your friend forevermore”.
Drowning in this whirlpool of emotions and facing the darkness myself
Cyclones of flower petals pour all over the floor
Their beauty I compare to myself
Being force-fed the concept of beauty by shallow beings
An objective subject not meant to be demolished by a screen
Our definition , Our own bodies , Our own faiths , Our own soul
Strong men , women , human beings preach about self-love
They scream ; love yourself
They accept themselves for who they are , but
do I accept myself ?
My skin , My body , My face
I am the person I need to love the most
but I try to become the person that society will accept
My complexion , myself ; I am not an object
I am a living , breathing human being with my own beliefs
And yet I misplace my beliefs and I start to believe the shallow lies
Am I enough ? What is missing ?
How much of myself do I need to lose before I start to become
a fresh canvas
What else do I need to do to fit into society's mold?
My friends tell me I'm enough but I'm so fixed by what it
truly means to be beautiful
To me , my opinion doesn't matter yet it does the most
The truth ; I already know but I refuse to believe
Destroying myself
My mind in a state of war
I'll always hate my complexion
I'll never be enough , I'll never be more
Contradiction
A mixture of Self-love
And self-loathe
I Detest myself
I look in the mirror and see my life
a young girl running and jumping
picking wildflowers for mother
helping daddy in his workshop
(well, on his bench anyways)
sitting on grandma's lap in the kitchen
listening to her tell stories while I pet my kitty
I watch her lips and expressions in awe
(in the end she did not know my name)
but she liked me a lot- I guess that is life
I see myself at the funerals of my sister, brother
father, mother, husband, baby and grandma
I just close my eyes and I am there again
my grandpa had left me long, long ago
life goes on and I grew to who I am
I became a writer grandma because of you
now, I feel an ache and stiffness in my bones
it is hard to hold a pen for very long
I am not very fast anymore
and often misplace things in odd places
cannot remember names and only the past in fragments
but life still goes on
I look in the mirror and wonder
who is that old lady looking back
because in my mind I am a young girl
_____________________
May 06, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/the mirror of my life
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1453-964-06
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, In The Mirror of Life
sponsor, Anoucheka Gangabissoon, Judged 05/13/2022
First Place
My Hero
Ever since I was a child he tore a piece of sun and stitched me whole
working himself to the bone so I could have a bed and home
he never complained and he always made it back ,even during storms
He was my Father, My Hero, my best friend ...
When I was overwhelmed submerged in ether
listening to bells go off in a not so distant medical bed
he walked in to pick me up, gave me a giant doll
then scooped me in his big strong arms and took me home.
When I was left behind for reasons I could not comprehend
mistaken for crazy and sent to a medical facility,
he spoke to the doctors then gently brought me back to health.
When he was dying from cancer and I could not sleep
I drove hours to get to him,
Stopped a a nearby village, and found a perfect blue rose
When I placed it by his bedside, holding my hand he said to me
"Daughter, its time for me to go home. "
I wasn't ready but I released him and let him go,
how I found the strength, I will never know.
Until this day when I think of heroes I think of my dad
those starlit eyes, that golden smile, those strong arms.
Today, inside this broken heart of mine there lives a hero,
one that I could never replace, nor misplace. My dad.
July 27, 2022
When you lose your voice,
I hope you’ll still speak with your smile
When you can’t make a choice
I hope you’ll just sit for a while
When you feel the worst struggles,
I hope you can hear the song in your soul,
Singing in vibrant colors,
Hues of light, blessings of gold
Stirring the light of sweet hope
When you feel uncertain,
I hope you’re certain you’re loved,
When you feel imperfect,
I hope you know a perfect God,
When you doubt your own feelings,
I hope you feel like love is worthwhile…
Dancing like scarlet leaves,
Painted by His brush, His finger
Silencing every fear, all disbelief
When you lose your inspiration,
I hope you’ll pray for a touch of grace,
When you don’t understand what is,
I hope you’ll discover the meaning of peace,
When you misplace your affections,
I hope He will guide you in love’s direction…
Silencing all the darkest fears,
Restoring your light to its place,
Whispering hope into your heart
When you can’t find the meaning,
I hope you will discover life’s purpose,
When it all seems to be beyond comprehension,
I hope you reach out to take His hand,
When life gives you confusion and worry,
I hope you find the strength you need to overcome…
Surviving the losses, the lessons,
Though wounded, growing toward completion,
Where His plan – you begin to understand!
I hope He challenges you to see love,
When someone hurts your heart, when in pain,
I hope He assures you that He is enough,
When everywhere you look, you see inadequate,
I hope He lights the way so you know His love,
And, when you can’t see – I hope you’ll still believe!
Never give up – God’s light is shining bright,
So you can find the way back from the regret,
Back from the torment – leaving it all in the past,
Knowing that His love is like a gentle breath,
Kissing away every doubt, reassuring your spirit
That whatever comes, wherever you go…
With God beside you, you’ll know the joy of a kindness
Far more beautiful, more alive than anything in life –
Let His love be the guide, to help you decide…
Throughout life, He’ll provide…
Simply pray, and praise – so He knows you’re thankful
For the love, His only Son, sent to save You
From a cold, dark world… sent to save You from despair,
Sent to save You from a life without…
Meaning, seeing, freedom that comes from simply believing!
My heart is an ebon swallowed night where nobody ever goes,
raging in a recondite rift like ripples resounding in rueful repose.
Should I release my woe with unfathomable thoughts of grief?
I may become as strong as a tiger or just a lonely picture motif.
Last week I walked a weak and coarse course of my lowest low,
wishing to borrow a new 'morrow devoid of comfortless sorrow.
I attest I'm depressed dreading everyday, I honestly confess.
Does every grey cloud have a silver lining or shadows of distress?
O, hear my plea! I’m drowning in dream of disdain and insanity!
This minute is not minute; I’m in a dark reverie of a flowing reverie.
The soothing days of assuage which used to be my saving grace
reminds me of how I’m living dead in deafening silence of misplace.
I asked for a helping hand where all warm hands would be on deck.
Perpetually forsaken, if you know what mean, just a dolour wreck.
Exhaustion was pressing upon and overpowering poor inferior me,
my heart has skipped a beat divided between joy and intense misery.
For I am but a solidary woman, methinks; I shall never be cured.
I must learn to live with this agony, or die an early death obscured.
I’m stuck in a prison pen on constant guard with solitude’s disease,
craving the day when I find appeased atonement that bestows ease…
In order I used these poetic devices:
1.) Metaphor 2.) Alliteration 3.) Rhetorical Question 4.) Simile
5.) Homophone 6.) Internal Rhyme 7.) Assonance 8.) Aphorism
9.) Dissonance 10.) Homograph 11.) Euphony 12.) Oxymoron
13.) Synecdoche 14.) Innuendo 15.) Ambiguity 16.) Personification
17.) Archaism 18.) Antithesis 19.) Metonymy 20.) Ellipsis
A Litany of Poetic Devices Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier
September 9, 2018
excited and in a daze, just in case
I have to make sure I don't misplace
my aspirin for tonight
I'll be with my knight
in shining armor in his embrace
suspend an aspirin between the knees and use that as contraception!" It was a "joke" in the 1960s.
gawker.com/.../in-my-day-gals-put-aspirin-between-their-knees
I looked in the mirror yesterday
Where have all the years gone by?
When did I get so old and dry?
Where have all my dreams gone by?
Where did the young girl with a smile go?
When did these lines find my face?
Where is the twinkle that was in my eyes?
Is that something you can misplace?
I was going to go to college
I ended up married instead
Soon after I became a mother
My secret desires from the world I hid
The face that stared at me was aging
The skin not pretty and young
When did all of this happen?
I feel my life's just begun
My children are now much older
They don't need me as much
At least not like in days gone by
Maybe it's time to do something for me
Maybe I'll try to fly
The mirror doesn't lie to us
But that doesn't mean that things can't change
If we will just be willing
I'll work real hard to reach my dreams
I'll see things through to the end
And the next time I look in the mirror
Maybe...then I'll find myself a friend!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2004
Thirsting to touch the Spirit of Ages
Rediscover that which I did misplace
A sparrow that fell out of time and space
This gilded door, travelers courageous
Glorious songs, birds escaping cages
How strange to meet your mind and not your face
Deep, yet anonymous touch of this “place”
Open, free hearts pour out on these pages
Welcoming home this orphan of my mind
Setting free the songbird from key and lock
Lava released from under miles of rock
Tight soul knots within begin to unwind
Old jail, black chains, they finally unbind
No longer to drink the spirit’s hemlock
4/8/16
Set down the rocks that have burdened me so
See them transmuting as if by magic
Into verse sublime, from burden tragic
This purgation, alchemy, afterglow
On warm, lofting currents, mingling souls know
Of realms uncharted from depths pelagic
Vibrant celestial breeze, energetic
Key to the gilded door, your hearts bestow
Awaken to the world of light, colors
To touch the transcendent truth beyond time
Rhythm of being, in image and rhyme
Once, heart’s eyes had been buried in squalor
Now kaleidoscopic multicolor
To giddy, broad vistas, this soul’s new climb
4/9/16
abbaabbacddccd (x2)
Sun speckled pond,
Reflecting my old face.
I’ve come again to catch your frogs
The ones that you misplace.
You can’t keep me out
Your ring of mud and reeds.
I’ve worn my faded sneakers
And rolled pants to my knees.
But first I’ll take a break
And sit here for a while.
It’s been some time since I’ve been back.
I’m tired. No denial.
We were together for so long
You must remember then,
The quiet nights, the fireflies
The summers without end.
Perhaps I’ll leave your frogs alone
And sit here for the night.
And watch the mists arise at dawn
And give the frogs a fright!
Hang in there Pond, for I’ll come back
And help you to remember
And catch your frogs amidst the reeds
And sparkling deep green splendor.