Best Moaning Poems
I laid my heart upon your grave
That winter day when trees were bare;
Their withered leaves fell down to brave
The chill of winter death and share
With you, the frozen ground and air.
Cold tears of rain helped to impart
The gloom, as prayer some comfort gave…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
I plucked a crimson rose that lay
Upon your grave, as rain fell down
And joined my tears that solemn day.
I held it to my heart to drown
My hurt, then slowly turned around
To numbly make my way to part
And join with loved ones, home to pray…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
Then April came on quiet feet
To wake the trees with budding bloom.
Thawed ground gave birth, in Springtime heat,
To grass, that hid the ashen gloom.
Now stung to life by Springtime’s womb,
The golden youth of Earth gives start
To find new hope, new season greet…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
I stand in shadow of death's sting;
Oh, Dad, why did you have to part?
Help me to heal with reborn Spring…
But, oh, the moaning of my heart.
We go about our lives as if with no clue
that all around us things on earth are dying
as other “great’ activities we pursue.
Good habits should mean more than simply trying.
For many crimes, mankind should be atoning.
Humankind, BE kind, or you will be crying!
Prick up your ears, and hear Earth’s gentle moaning.
Hear it in the oceans filled with our debris.
Where she chokes from all our filth, Earth is groaning.
Hear the silent shrieks emitting from each tree.
With forests razed – oxygen is depleting.
Extinction of creatues already we see.
This senselessness we cannot keep repeating,
or a deserved tragic end we’ll be meeting.
March 12, 2021
for D.W. Rodgers' While Mother Earth Gently Moans Poetry Contest
There’s absolutely no value in complaining to anyone in this world today.
Fifty percent of the people don’t really care and the other fifty percent are glad it’s not them anyway
To constantly be expressing resentment, and dissatisfaction and always one to grumble,
Is simply a poor choice and a waste of time when that energy could be spent being humble.
The situation is similar to an aged dog lying on a porch, on top of a nail constantly moaning.
He lacks the fortitude to get up and the will to move, and he is satisfied to continue groaning.
It is time to realize that we all have greatness if only we tap into the source.
When you find that spark, it will ignite a blazing fire and in that, you’ll find more power for the course.
It's four in the morning,
and I can't hear anything,
but moaning above me.
A fistful of a metronome is an organic matter in a metro dome. Fish not a pirate ship and swim swim swim. Great isn't it. Marvel at the many passing floating cakes that arrive. And mirror not a choice of words fir remarkable is never found in a plastic case. It is quite unnatural you see. And unnatural means not characteristic. So upon playing charades with rain drops be aware the shape they create upon landing. Mission beams from above. Callously charming chequered chins. And it is not to be said that a yawning yacht equals tiredness. It is the laundry from a vested belt that breeds the spawn. So suit on a sawn off **** gun attends a hockey game and the pistol in a pink top scores. Underneath the ironing board. Sails snails and pails. Squalid yet atmospheric. And indifference is neither a sign of acceptance nor thought. Ho ho ho to all that. Ran the hahaha out of range earlier. Dare to dance with the signal box then? ***,, correspondences Z
You'd never know this masterpiece
By Leonardo da Vinci
Was painted while Moaning Lisa
Had cramps in her lower vicinity
Muffling her moans while she sat there
Knowing what fame lay ahead
Knew she'd become most recognized
Centuries after she was dead
You really can't see the porta-potty
But trust me I know it's there
Actually had these devices back then
Build right into each chair
My job on P-Soup has forever been
To basically tickle your fancy
Not really sure I know where that is
Guessing it can be a bit chancy
Next time you view this famous painting
Think of Moaning Lisa's chagrin
With such an angelic look on her face
Never guess the discomfort she was in!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Apologies to Leonardo!
Moaning Mona
Oh! Oh!
Oh no,
moaning &
complaining;
her draping
archaic.
Drop a little off
the shoulder,
Mona, baby.
Show a bit
of cleavage.
Best to smile
and wink,
to stay abreast
with modern society.
Mona, don’t
grow cold.
Keep your clothes on.
Save the nudes
for someone else.
You’re only good
when you follow us-
your dark eyes
kept safe behind glass.
Don’t be mad, Mona,
your just a common figure
in history,
a class act,
not suited
to get between satin sheets.
Your mud-pool irises
and hair match-
same dye
for both, Mona dear?
Your alabaster skin
pale as moonlight.
Your handsome hands-
Leonardo found them
enticing. So do we
as we admire
your sleeves. Stay
grounded, Mona…
Complaining
and moaning-
oh no! Here we go again!
Oh…oh…
Moaning Mona.
4/13/2023
We are but as great as the air we breath
Our past actions do not restrain us and
Our present acts do not define us.
It is our hopes and dreams that most shape
Us and when death strikes an unwarned
Blow it is not just our lives we lose but
Those we could have safed also.
Oh how sad a souless body like an empty
Chair the tsunami and earthquake have
Left the japan broken and scared the
World of the joy that once was.
No man is an island or woman without
Fault, was there ever a sorrow so true as
Millions become shameless bystanders
To a scene so obscene and shameful.
Sometimes I reach for you and find an empty space,
In the once warm places,
Where you used to lie,
I moan and sigh,
Mourning you so intensely that I wish to die,
Just so that I
Wont have to say:
"I miss you" for yet another day.
A whole person you've left burning,
Now broken and scattered with yearning,
For a face that never floats by,
That has ripped the moon from my sky,
Leaving an oasis devoid and dry,
Without even a goodbye.
But as the sun preens in its prime,
We shone brightly,beautifully and then ran out of time.
bounty boobs blushing
fiddling fingers flinching
eerie emotions fostering
damped desires drooling
locked legs lurching
callous zeal crumbling
mystic moans melting
locked lips fiddling
halted! Then continuity
nocturnal nymph moaning
nimbling lips dripping
nectar of nosing
satyr salient flow
house's an home.
19:12:11:13:17
Stuck
It’s a mistake to belly-ache
To rue wrongs done
To linger and shake
To blame someone
You didn’t use the power
That we all own
That strength of tower
Move on don’t moan
Easier to sit on the nail
Wriggle and squirm
Accuse when we fail
While failing to learn
Knowing there’s no change
While standing still
Not expanding our range
Climbing that hill
Take a walk and look back
Your freedom is nigh
Change the track
Wave pain goodbye.
David Cox 15/12/21
I found the right spot, before the night fell,
Then proceeded to take you down the hall
To where you would be able to stand tall,
With a private moment, as you are hailed.
I was the hammer and I was the nail,
Hanging my Moaning Lisa on the wall,
With a firm grasp, so that you would not fall.
So, against the wall, I hoisted you well.
My Moaning Lisa came with her own hole,
So, I just had to apply the right force,
Knowing this hammering would take a tole.
The wall upon which you were hung was coarse,
And was strong enough to support your soul,
As I returned your essence to the source.
silly sequoia slumbering
meager mists mooing
callous clouds clustering
voluptuous vibes vying
tempted twigs twiddling
salient sleep swilling
spooky silver silhouette
pulling pulpy pests
contracting cautious crrsts
lousy clouds lurching
gaunt glottis grooving
gigantesque syllables dripping
mystic mountain moaning;
sleep's spell swigging.
19:12:05:08:17
Life Flees, As If Faint Whispers In Moaning Winds
As fleeting hours flew into eternal abyss
once youth and love imagined to dream
so went grave error that time allows this
facing life, always with full head of steam.
We marvel at the beauty of ancient oaks
majestic towers stretching to eager skies
oft captured in the glory of artistic strokes
yet burdened by this world of worldly lies.
Weep not for more, for dying is our Fate
and task of living well often most hard
if one has learned and loved, they can relate
evil world is a test, just ask any bard.
Life flees, as if faint whispers in moaning winds.
Yet we all feign power, to so mold how it ends.
Robert J. Lindley,10-10-2018
Sonnet, ( Life Finally Teaches Us That Time Never Waits)
Moaning and Groaning Horn Haiku
Moaning and groaning
Wife will often do at night
When having bad dreams.
Seems to be only time
that you have them.
Jim Horn
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poets/top_100_poets_most_poems_all_time.aspx