Best Missing Poems
"In Touch With Myself"
I can't seem to find her
The reminder of yesterday
I shut my eyes for a few seconds
Only there, can I reach to bear upon her face
The moment I open my eyes
The earth opens and she disappears
Every now and then
Darkness takes form around the blank wall
It brings out a long lost silhouette.
-I inhale a small desire,
reaching and tracing every line left behind.
I Just can't seem to reach her
The girl drowning deep inside
I turn around to look and feel no one by my side
It's been long since she slowly faded away
I gaze into the mirror and miss her every day
For one second past,
I swear she was there.
Lately, I can't seem to find her
That girl I was before
Empty feelings continue to lounge about
Rejecting yesterday away.
-Honestly, I don't know why I bother,
holding on to somebody that is no longer there?
By:PD
Bits of me are missing mother,
the bits of me which you placed.
Bits of me are missing Mother;
ah, I see you in my face.
Trying to remember Mother’s days -
wine and roses - Sinatra songs
beaches, pipe curls and crinolines -
Days, so far gone, so long ago,
replaced by bitter brew: by tears,
by fears, by little pills;
I remember you.
I see you in my face Mother.
Years gone by and still I try,
no easy thing to do, I try to remember,
just a few memories of happy days
with you -
Was it when I learned to read;
when you baked your pies? Ah, Mother,
mother memories only come in sighs.
Still, in all, it’s very true, I spend
each day missing, missing all of you.
Included in my book The Hurricane by Prolific Press 2015
It is now springtime in heaven
Sky is so blue...sun shining so bright
Beautiful flowers are everywhere
Angels are dancing...as the harps play
Here on earth...we scamper around
Sky is so blue...sun shining so bright
Beautiful flowers are everywhere
We are missing the angels in heaven
Angels are dancing...as the harps play
They await the day...as we do also
As once again we will all be together
Our mothers and us...in heaven above
Dedicated to: Our Mothers in Heaven
and her children who will be missing her
this weekend on Mother's Day
To all of you who still have your mother here
on earth with you make sure she knows how
much you love her.
I know your spirit is finally free
when I scattered your ashes yesterday
Cancer has taken you away from me
solitude is now the price I must pay
When I scattered your ashes yesterday
I said adieu to the love of my life
Solitude is now the price I must pay
I’m now a widow, no longer a wife
I said adieu to the love of my life
I look to heaven and I question why
I’m left a widow, no longer a wife
as seagulls circle in bright azure sky
I look to heaven and I question why
cancer has taken you away from me
As seagulls circle in bright azure sky
I know your spirit is finally free
New Poems Only Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
16 lines, 10 syllables per line
FICTION POEM WRITTEN FOR CONTEST
4/12/18
My heart I set on a dear companion
the cherished imprint on my soul, profound
how safe I felt in a tough kind bosom!
though I ceased to touch and see, tightly bound.
***
Sweet and pleasant, that huge effort and toil
no sign of a whine, a smiling mother
whims she would swallow, our feast wouldn't spoil
the feel of having her, like no other!
***
A glance at my eyes, she would read my heart
"ignore the pain, you have to dig your mine"
her persona, to me she would impart
how could I be without the whole of mine!
***
One tear of joy.. one other of woe
in time of grief, she had a bride to wed
her head bowing to what's to life a foe
I'm that one whose dad in wedding time dead.
***
No sign of a whine! her soul valiant
her words I retain, "I'm a woman of worth"!
how she longed for life! hers was transient
"recite me holy words.. I'm back to earth".
***
A companion when I recall, I learn
a woman, the world of books didn't know
of impressive drive, much she would discern
mother, the one I am, to you I owe.
A wilted violet bows its pretty purple head,
Like me it has no energy as sorrow pleads.
My love, once so pure and vibrant now is dead.
My heart filled with passion, stilled, it bleeds.
I cannot bring him back though it would seem
I sometimes find him young and happy still,
So alive and handsome in a treasured dream.
If only I could conjure those dreams at will.
I often think that I can feel his spirit near,
With knocking sounds and blinking lights.
Late eves or early morn I hear his voice so clear.
I try so hard to connect with him those nights.
Sometimes I hold his watch and other things
I feel they retain vibrations of his energy.
I think of him surrounded by angel wings
And I know he is at peace with family.
10-07-21
This poem is about my husband Michael who passed away July 29, 2020
My son Robby passed away recently May 29, 2021 he was 44
I wrote a blog about my stepson Michael Jr. who is now in a nursing home slowly getting better thanks to all of your prayers. I know it seems confusing.
**Thank you very much Team Poetry Soup for the honor of POTD
Oct. 9, 2021**
Regally it stands, the staunch guardian of her lonesome heart,
Reminiscing in revelries of yore, treasured memories impart,
Defying glum turbulence of now, hanging on to seasons past,
When springs-winsome banished, doldrums harsh-winters cast.
Disheartened, the gate harkens back~ O, so young its master died,
Lamenting of distressed times, when grief stilled her teary eyed;
Yet, with resolve, it squeaks its hinges, resounding a voice of pride,
Beckoning to benevolence of bliss, fate had so callously denied.
With kindred vibes it greets her, vying elation of cherished days,
Suppressing aches and rattles of its rusting, clamoring, phase;
Preferring realm of time, when he was the keeper of this place,
As dutifully now it opens wide, exuding mirth of youthful grace.
O, how fondly the gate recalls, dance of duo beneath full moon,
Humming melodies intimate, passions of doting souls croon,
Embracing celebration of life, as heartbeats enamored attune,
To rhythms emanating song of love, strumming infatuated tune.
Despite groans and whimpers, blaring aloud clattering of pain,
The gate vows to protect her, refusing ever to wither or wane,
Unwavering through thunders, rains, vicious strikes of feeble age,
Challenging its steeled bones, to gallantly defy seasons’ rage.
"The Ballad of The Poet Destroyer"
Destroyer, and creator of words
Flying high on the wings of a bird
Drowning every inch, by foes and friends
Where has she gone?
When push came to shove,
She continued standing tall after every fall
Falling fearlessly like the falling star tapping the lips
Topaz, a star in the eyes of envy the enemy
A dreamlike, miracle mirage, fresh like mints
No reason in remembering yesterday's sad song
Slightly she moves in with the new barren breeze,
A maze in disguise, no way out
A feeling so good, you hate
The naming of names, that won't escape you
Your eyes of lust, imitate PD's sweetest touch,
Destruction, with pleasure
A new day, killed by the morning after pill
Everyone gone, shadows remain
Where, has she gone?
A feeling so good, you hate
Your unmatched precision wobbles your stability
She'll give you a taste of rays, despite your low self-esteem
Happiness turns to sadness, making every jaw drop
Where has she gone?
She's not the painting of Mona Lisa,
However, it does not stop you from spending your cash-
-To see a picture painted with a frown,
Look what you've done!
Never to return, what was, what is!
You say you love her, then you run
A dry barrel, an empty gun,
Never will the enemy be number one,
Nothing but a shadow, a rug for PD,
Like a dream, her imagery is haunting
Love her or leave her, her pen name remains
Poet O' Poet where are you?
An advocate of smiles, enjoy her copy-paste kiss
Trace her silhouette found in the midnight mist
Blindfolded, indulge by the wind
Breaking, the Texas Hold EM' Hand
Her freedom, her land
Gone insane, she laughs,
Untouched she remains, she lives
Inside of me
By; PD
I reach onto the bookshelf
Carefully removing the photograph album from the top shelf
We nestle together on the sofa
I slowly turn over the pages
Yellowing photographs that capture precious moments frozen in time
Suddenly you become animated
Hidden memories begin to return …
We laugh as you recall stories from the past
You lovingly stroke the faces of those now long gone
Wishing they were there by your side for real
Tears fill your green eyes as you reach out and gently squeeze my hand
Nostalgia Contest
Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron
11~25~16
The sweet breeze through the window
asks nothing as unseen birds call.
It asks nothing of the sun
as it sweeps across yards,
yet it whispers to waking dreams.
My dreams ask,
Did I love too much?
behind my mind’s eye,
visions
and what do they mean
when we give of ourselves
so fully we are spent.
Now I’m alone.
Canadian geese gather
crowding a path along the river
as the day passes,
so consumed with each other
they ignore the mothers
and children who pass.
A ski jet slaps waves,
and the river breathes.
The gaggle whispers among itself,
and nature speaks a language of her own.
For where is the love that I seek,
My soul searches deeper still…
Hearts hibernating in mystique,
I surrender to its wavering will…
Looking up to sapphire skies,
May it rain pearls of passion…
Tears that fall from elusive eyes,
Are saved as reminiscent ration…
May I find your love in galaxies gold,
Your sculptural smile behind the veil…
Marooned to your mesmerizing mold
Lost at sea to your sequestered sail…
Can lonesome love eternally exist,
Where kept kisses are forever missed.
Dec.31.2019
2019 best sonnet
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Placed 3'rd & POTD...Thank You
Another lover's touch
There's never been a love,
that's ever been enough...
You keep searching for...
another lover's touch
Why do I even try,
I should stop wasting time...
You say that we are fine...
we both know that's a lie
Chorus
I can see the ending,
in our book of love...
Well I try and I try and I try,
but it's not enough...
I see the curtain falling
on our romantic play....
I never thought our love ...
would end this way
I remember that first look,
the first chapter of our book...
We thought we'd found a love that would never die
The days turned into weeks,
so many nights without sleep...
The love we felt was an unrelenting fire
Chorus
I can see the ending,
in our book of love...
Well I try and I try and I try,
but it's not enough...
I see the curtain falling
on our romantic play....
I never thought our love...
would end this way
Chorus
I can see the ending,
in our book of love...
Well I try and I try and I try,
but it's not enough...
I see the curtain falling
on our romantic play....
I never thought our love...
would end this way
There's never been a love,
that's
ever
been
enough...
You keep...
searching...
for another...
lover's...
touch.
John Derek Hamilton
November 22,2019
re-posted with music and vocals
January 27,2021
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2019
She's untouched fruit
from forbidden orchards
barren and wrinkled
with fragmented twigs,
whirling to the beat
of melancholic musings
of black-winged butterflies
that croon and reflect
the true tragedy of a queen
waiting for the
return of her king.
Beneath splitting dusks,
above wicked woodlands
of weathered grim dreams,
personified pomegranate seeds
drip in sangria sins
that feed her fears and lies
from familiar chalices,
but below the streams of
poetic gardens,
raspberry rivers taste
sweeter than honeydew melons.
Cosmos decipher
her destiny designed
for a silhouette emblazoned
in tarnished trinkets,
But there's nothing left
In her shining throne
that reflects in sorrow
like a tombstone
adorned with tilted
tulips and wilted roses
in a ruined wilderness.
All that remains is
a crown that lays
amongst ebony
and bones covered in
cobwebs coated in
memories and hurt.
Her tears swiftly freeze
into frost glazed lakes
holding the last breeze
of mourning dunes
searching for a valley
with his finest tune,
but empty chambers below
her feet echo with ghosts
of his rhymes,
as pantoums tangle in the
paralyzed streaks of
her golden hair.
She sits in silence listening to the wind
carrying wicked witches
and mythological stones,
Hearing the tale
of beloved cities separated
by unforgiving constellations.
If eternity can be illustrated
with calligraphic scriptures,
this poetic saga will reveal
immortal affections
through metaphors that
stretch beyond medieval
manuscripts of an
infinite infatuation.
Beckoned by love, allured by memories,
Embracing missives of delightful dream
Engrossed in sphere of halo mesmerizing
Surrounding her aura in ornate gold ring,
She lifted-off gaily into ethereal, heavenly,
Way beyond reign of mortal melancholy
That gripped her soul in unbearable grief.
Enthralled she floated on feelings angelic
As she swirled, danced on magical wings,
Visiting lustrous nebulae hanging mirthfully
Amid magenta clouds’ resplendent motifs;
A kingdom of happiness, of eternal paradise,
An escape to wonderland fit for a child,
Just like her mother had once described
Where love always blossoms garden of joy.
Flexing exuberance, she queried the stars,
Until she came upon the brightest of all,
And recognized the most reassuring smile
Peering fondly into mother’s loving eyes
Nesting in her breasts, savoring her breath,
Longing every touch, reveling every pulse,
Blissful in endearment of realm sublime
Reconnecting enamored memories divine
Cradled in mother’s arms till end of time.
December 27, 2022
Poem of the day on December 28, 2022
Placed 5th: Beyond Reach Premium Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
The sun swiftly sits on the creased sea line, stirring crooning clouds of romance.
I sit in awe ~ mesmerized, for the millionth time,
watching the sky sing your name, filling the salty air with high-pitched notes of nostalgia.
For between the island of longing and mountains with willows of infatuation,
amidst the many gusts and gales of seasonal shifts,
between your ink and my canvas, I feel the warmth of your love-struck twilight,
as if we were wishing upon the same evening star, flickering opalescent flames of desire.
While fireflies flutter like aurora beams,
twirling like topaz that mirrors diamond dreams, above our skin,
screaming for a silent rendezvous,
where no wind or dust can blur or veil the musical memories of our unspoken poetry.
In this moment, I realize I am not alone. The seagull that visits the same spot every day rests still,
surrounded by ripples of honeyed turquoise. Perhaps she is lost in thought, just as I am,
as the way we both are in sync with nature reminds me of the ephemeral tunes of time~
how it unfolds Polaroids of promises, scattered like aching footprints in the moon-touched sand.
Maybe the dance of the seraphic breeze and flurry of hues would redefine unseen tomorrows,
as weightless crimson carries scarlet sonnets, sealed in spiced eloquence…
marigold secrets
etched within cinnamon sun~
halcyon heartbeats …