Best Move Back Poems


Premium Member The Ramblings of the Water Mistress

I feel the water
above me
below me
all around me
intimate
caressing
accepting
loving me

I go further down
to touch the bottom of the pool
and there
on the two painted dolphins
I push my hands down
and my feet break free from the water
shooting up into the air
my handstand
For a moment
I revel the erectness of my form
My legs above the water
the water trickling down them

slowly
I bring them back down
and burst out of the water
head and chest pushing out
Hair...laden with water
swung back
spraying a trajectory of liquid crystals behind me
I take in the air
I smile
I live
I breath
my arms move back and forth
I dip in again
then swim to the far side of the pool
I hold on to the metal hand guards
Put my legs out on the side of the pool
Knees bent
I push myself below the surface
looking around...
my playground
the water, my home

I'm in my element
I'm free
weightless and happy
the muffled sounds
and dancing lights on the surface
flirt with me
I stay for as long as I can
then I break the surface
Floating on my back
I look at the sky
I feel sublime
chest and tummy tasting the air
I'm there
There
where in my mind
I'm beautiful and divine
sultry mistress of the water
he's touching every part of me
I'm free
I'm free

Jade

I am never as happy as when I'm swimming....the pool lets me be more creative, but I also enjoy swimming in the Mediterranean sea. I've been called a dolphin.... I'm more like another aquatic mammal at present, but even those creatures are graceful and beautiful in the water. Summer is coming....

Premium Member Somewhere Along Her Hands

'     '''''''' '        ''   

Somewhere a hand is reading out loud
a Dickinson, a leather-worn journal
recording daily life’s soirees,
memorizing rain and shielding little girl’s eyes
from the blasting words of the sun.

Somehow someone reaches
from darkness to drive the shadows
that meet the body of her child: trembling 
with excitement or fear,
sliding tender fingers on the back;
parts the arms like wind that rushes in
all seasons to reveal the lush, delicious
landscape of summer ; then rubs the elbow
down the forearm to greet the cheeks
with a kiss and watches while
the hands move back without help or
guidance from the daughter sleeping.        ~ 

Somewhere a mother, grandmother, 
godmother, stepmother, or mother nature
weeps over love’s  broken child;
uses her hair to bandage
the wound on the youth’s head …unfolds
her hands from prayer to widen
the window of angel psalms 
pressing her lips into alleys 
of the sapling’s mouth: a tear transforms her
from receiving to giving. ..
and she feels without seeing the last light
of the night; lit for those who witness

its final extinguishing. 

                         


© 

........ .... ........

*with love to my Mom who had passed on*

Gautami Phookan's Poet lll Contest
by nette onclaud

Premium Member My Little Bulldog

No challenge stops her
    stance is set
       shoulders squared

                                  She needs no reassurance
                                  no protective arm

What she wants
    is what she wills
     she harbors no illusions

                                   No man will tell her
                                   what to do

She has lain out
   her own way
     and swept it clean

                                   No distraction is allowed
                                   to interfere

Her goals are set
   and bannered, waiting
     for distant days

                                     She will claim them all
                                     in triumph, never doubting

Small of stature
   great of heart
     she turns to face the wind

                                      Gentle as a running stream
                                      Unyielding as a diamond

She acknowledges 
   the difficulties
    then passes through

                                        No lie accepted
                                        no truth denied

She scans the road ahead
   weighs its options
     gaze sure and steady

                                         Fears are felt
                                         then disregarded

She does not move back
   she sets her grip upon
     each thing she wants

                                          Her goals must surrender
                                          to her determination

A child in years
   an elder's wisdom
     sits upon her brow

                                          Discouragements will bring no change
                                          a mountain of resolve

Seasons change
   worlds revolve
     she sees it through

                                          The end in sight
                                          stays in sight

Such nobilities
   within my child
     humble me

                                          Her father frets for her
                                          but can never fear

This is my little bulldog
   holding the world 
     by its pantleg

                                            Naught that she needs escapes her
                                            what kind of fool would try


Premium Member Broken Trust, Dying of Love

Broken Trust, Dying Of Love


Baby, nobody came when I cried out for you
if I were a lawyer maybe I would just sue
if a doctor, would heal my sad heart too
Nobody came baby, when my hot tears fell
the 'ole world has completely gone to hell
they say the sun is shining but I can not tell

Baby, nobody came, what the hell do I do
Oh my sweet darlin', what shall I ever do
Crying in my cereal, tears falling in my tea
baby, this damn hurtin', is all over me

I miss your lovin', that was so damn good
I'd crawl back to you, if only I ever could
prayin' you will come back, if only you would
Watched you leave, be damned if I know why
this damn hurtin' makes my soul want to die
tears are fallin' like raindrops from the sky

Taking my medicine, out back on the patio
drinking my whiskey, with Petty on the radio
my livin' without you, so damn sad you know
saddest sight I ever saw, was watching you go 

I remember your touch, each and every kiss
Baby, thats the pain in what I so dearly miss

Darlin', I forgive you every lie you ever told
if only you'd return here for me just to hold
we can forgive each other, never again scold
Hurtin' all over me, has me in such despair
got me starving to death, whiting in my hair
return to my love and end this eternal scare

Baby, you broke my heart, shattered my mind
got me drinkin' whiskey, the strongest kind
Darlin', you got me crying all the damn time
writing all of this pain out in sad poetic rhyme

Still nobody comes, as I scream out your name
come on back, on me place all the damn blame
Without your sweet love,  nothing is the same
baby move back in, my wild ways you did so tame

O' Baby, baby, I simply have to tell you this
Every damn good thing about you is what I miss!

Robert J. Lindley---


Note:
Written so damn long ago. I remember all the damn hurtin', why 
she left I still don't know. Next three years I lived inflicting pain,
back into me --it left a miserable stain.
Life giveth and life taketh away, yet why I was broken I know not
even to do this day!
Looking back, I see a wild man that needed his ass straightened out!
Now that I'm so blessed, I know it was a gift, of that I have no doubt..

Be Still

Much of man's life is veiled in mystery, 
glimpses of truth in pages of history. 
What is known to man he has learned, 
from other men grasping to try and discern. 

Hidden somewhere deep in the heart, 
truth and wisdom are not far apart. 
Reaching for knowledge with all that he can,
answers to questions just slip through his hands. 

Man stumbles through life on the same old paths, 
that his fathers have traveled in times past. 
A creature of habit, not breaking the trend,
not seeing the forest for the trees, planted in sin.

When he is left without any true absolutes, 
everything is up in the air and up for dispute. 
Man has no sense of direction without true north, 
he will talk in circles and move back and forth. 

If man will be still and God will he fear,
then the Word will he know and wisdom he hear.




10/25/18

Premium Member Thanksgiving Love - Thanks

 
"When we put our problems in God's hands;
He puts his peace in our hearts."

Inspired by The Gospel According to John 16:33
____________________________________

               I had come home,
        it had been seven long, long years;
      and with a heavy cloak of grief I just roam,
        but as thanksgiving nears . . .
  broken-  I must move back to live with mom and dad,
  for my baby and husband are dead and I am shattered sad;
    and with life and God I am mad,
              but love awaits.

              On Thanksgiving,
        love removed my dark cloak of grief;
      as family pressed me to their hearts in giving,
        no longer was I, a drifting leaf . . . 
  I had found my refuge, and that the day was not about food,
  and I suddenly knew to heal-  God, I must include;
    so, on that Thanksgiving I was renewed,
              and embraced love. 
 
_____________________________
October 26, 2019


Poetry/Rhyme/Thanksgiving Love
Rhyme pattern - ababcccx dedefffx
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1191-361-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the contest, Thanksgiving Memory
sponsor, Regina Riddle

First Place


Premium Member A Deep and Troubling Truth

Hands
Stretched out like branches
Reaching for the kiss of sun
An army of hands, brown hands
Stretched out at me
Shrivelled weak hands
Looking for their daily bread. 

Hands
With nobody to hold
No star close for them to touch
To shake off the dust and shimmer
Slowly move back to folded arms
Hands that know not how to give
Stretch out to touch the troubled
Hands that serve only his purpose. 

Hands
Snatching from the pot
Blind hands grab the rich jasper
To exchange it for some nourishment
Hands that know only to grab from another
Hands that serve only his purpose
Looking for their daily bread.

The Good Side

To some, there is a “good side”
When you’re posing for a pic
And people show their “good sides”
Sometimes trying to be slick.

But if somewhere in Manhattan
Is the place from whence you hark
Then you know the “good side” means one thing –
The side where you can park.

For streets are cleaned 6 days a week
On alternating sides
With posted signs reminding us
To move away our rides.

So for an hour and a half
One side of every street
Is free of cars so sweep machines
Can make their work complete.

Most drivers sit inside their cars
Until the sweepers pass
Then quickly move back to their spots
So fines they won’t amass.

You’re lucky, though, if when you park
You snag a “good side” spot
For then a small reprieve, worth more than gold,
Is what you’ve got.

Premium Member Dear Poetrysoup

Dear POETRYSOUP, Hope this finds YOU and YOURS Healthy and High in the Spirit. I am writing this on the Inspiration of Heather Ober's Contest "Love Letter". First off I want to Thank-YOU all for YOUR many Gracious Comments. They are appreciated and Inspirational. Some of YOU know about my strokes and the handicap they cause me, as far as writing any comments back to YOU. I am sorry.A few of YOU know about my stomach cancer,and how the doctors removed half of my stomach and replaced it with whatever they replace stomach lineing with. However that lining ripped and I go for surgery tomorrow. Here is my delima; After the recovery from the surgery they want me to move back to the apartment (they pay for) and leave my Cabin on the mountain for ever. I have a 24/7 nurse,(and my Spirit Nurse; Suzanne Delaney) his name is Nick and he said he would stay with me at the cabin (with a cut in pay). now I do not know why Nick is a Nurse and not a Doctor, he can do everything but surgery. sorry I am rambling.
 YOU are probable saying to Yourselves "What has this got to do with LOVE? By my  cabin I have a house, actually a Shrine : to my DEAREST Most Only Beloved LENORE : my
Wife. I have her POETRY, her Pictures and her Butterfly collection. I had the only thing left from Our Everlasting Day; Her Transparent White Wedding Vail, stolen 4 years ago in a break-in. So my ? to my Beloved Family : POETRYSOUP is :Should I go to the Apartment(across the street from hospital)or spend the next 6 moths to a year at the cabin where my True LOVE abides,with Doctor Nick. I LOVE YOU ALWAYS and FOREVER YOUR Loyal Liege...HGarvey Daniel Esquire Aka - Harry - HG

Life Is a Ladder

life is a thin ladder its actors climb.
No matter how they climb, 
Some will watch other's tails as they follow steps.
You might see another going farther with speed,
But that shouldn't impel the eyes to wake greed.
Instead, watch attentively the finesse of his legs .
Learn and direct your steps.
For when greed wakes, it connives with the mind.
The end result is always 'pull him ' .
The hands implement Greed's dream .
As the hands pull, the legs come to a stand still.
That one whose legs you pull has his hands holding the ladder while you attack.
If you apply force, then you have to pave way for him to move back.
Consequently, you both will retrogress.
Thus switching your mind from success.
So Irrespective of how you pull, he will never be behind you.
Why not wish he moves for you to follow?
When he gets to the peak, just a stretch of his hand will also make you a hero.
Remember whiles some are behind you, others are also at the bottom waiting to climb the ladder.
Time and patience really matter.
So climb higher but don't pull.
For pulling makes you a weak actor not a bull.
Life is a ladder

Premium Member Mutual Spirits

I climb through dense brambles to hide.
Light flickers to find me,
I don’t feel safe here, and run on.

I’m in a dark house and move back and back through the rooms.
I hear him asking someone if they had seen me.
I curl up tighter into my hidden place under old clothes.

I feel him closer.
I don’t see him.
I run again and find a disconnected darkness.

As I cover myself with leaves,
It all begins to fade, 
The darkness, the details, the uneasiness;

I awake, and sit up clearing the cobwebs of the dream out of my sleep.
I reach out for my husband.
He raises to his elbow and touches me.

His sleepy voice says, “Oh good, you’re here — 
I’ve been chasing after you,
And no one would tell me where you were.”

Adroit Android

Adroit Android

Somewhere between the outer limits and twilight zone
Operating within acceptable parameters of functionality
Sam Android, according to his name plate
Etched along his metallic neck and back
Came from outer space with an agenda
He did not come to serve mankind
He did not come in peace, either
This android had something other on his mind
Programmed by another species
In their image and intelligence
Sam Android gathered information of a certain kind
Reconnaissance of metals is what he is exploring
Shopping for refined alloys and powders 
Our scientists wanted to dissect him like a bug
To see what makes it tick with little love and lots of tricks
Androids do not like to be touched by strangers 
Clearly printed in the manual he came with 
Our technicians studied it and everything found on his space ship
Before they flipped its switch and turned him on
Once activated, there was no off switch, no turning back
Sam had two bright cobalt eyes that came alive
Absorbed everything in sight
In that cold and calculating way of extraterrestrials 
It moved quickly with precision and intellectualism
In a nice calm voice it told the soldiers and scientists to move back
When they did not, and by the way, it only said it once
Then opened fire with a laser gun
Penetrated all the walls of the facility of knowledge and higher study
We learned a potent lesson about adroit androids from outer space
They are clever, savvy, do not like to be touched 
Or say things twice
We must listen to our cosmic friend
Who could not have been more succinct and clear
Before it blew our buildings and men away
He came here for the metals and other alloys
Communicating with eloquence and in good form
Androids are adroit, programmed that way

Fireworks Hill

Let’s go climb
And move back time
To that mysterious hill
Where a boy first met his girl

Long before 
The cynics arrived
Before the laughter died
And God returned the day to night

Where dazzling fireworks
Rained sparkles
On our lives
Two strange birds
Came together
And opened up their eyes

Let’s go climb 
We’ll move back time

Fireworks Hill, Fireworks Hill
Far from my mind
Never forgotten
Fireworks Hill, Fireworks Hill
We became one there
So very often

And there are vivid colors 
Blasting through the sky
Dancing rainbows 
I really want to taste
There is weeping smoke
Painting all the stars
Burning graveyards 
For the human race

Let’s go climb
And move back time
To that mysterious hill
Where a boy first met his girl

We’ll race to the edge
Fulfill our pledge
It was written in blood
The heat of our love

Oh, jump, baby, jump
We’ll fly away together
Jump, baby, jump
Our bodies joined forever

Let’s go climb
And move back time 
To that mysterious hill
Where a boy first met his girl

Fireworks hill, fireworks hill
I see the sparkles in the air
Fireworks hill, fireworks hill
I smell the dazzle of your hair
Fireworks hill, Fireworks hill
We flew to Heaven over there

Let’s go climb
We’ll move back time
(Forever…with you)

Premium Member Within My Sacred Space

 
and When-
threatened   when I feel afraid-   lost in a sea of faces
MUSE will imagine an ethereal circle
around me
and beyond my circle a ravaged garden

front    back    and both sides
my spirit wolf protects me    says MUSE
on all sides he watches
for those who
step within my magic protective space

words are weapons leaving scars on the soul
my heart swells with a sea of tears
and hate is a guest who comes unbidden

the evil
and tormentors of all kinds
front    back    and both sides
do not step within my invisible circle
my sacred space
beware and move back quickly, don't dilly-dally
it's
dangerous
when 
     the 
        wolf protects me
sometimes when he smells my fear
like a dagger poised to hurt me
he calls for other spirits and an assemblage appears
a hissing snake that slithers
a lion that roars so loud I shake
a silent panther so slender and sleek
a black crow that brings me a sword
a hundred horses with heavy hoofs

and I always keep close, so close, MUSE, my spiritual butterfly
I hold her on a gossamer piece of thread like spiders silk
so I can fly away . . .

___________________________
September 5, 2016

Poetry/Free Verse/Within My Sacred Space
Copyright Protected, ID 16-825-957-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Written for the contest, Muse On The Loose 
Sponsor,  John Lawless 

First Place

Shadows of Terror - Lion Kill

As the light dims and dances on the horizon
A menace stirs from its slumber, slinks from the shadows.
The game move to and fro, staying sit means certain death.

The eyes of death blink with certain deadly cunning, 
paws step lightly and then begins the running.

The cry goes out to all, Life is being written in tooth and claw.
Animals become scatterings in the night, dust and sand dance between their feet.
The sound resonates slowly steadily, like the first rains of the season, until lighting strikes.

The roar is deafening, tooth and claw bearing.
The cry goes out, the shadows of terror are about.
Tawny flashes move back and forth, distress and fear prowl among the animals.

Brown eyes stair into the blackness of the night.
Knowing that courage musters to challenge the assault on their fallen comrade.

STANDING TO ATTENTION IN RANKS OF HOOVES AND HORNS
BORN TO BE WARRIORS OF THE BUSH, BUFFALO STAND TALL.

FORGED BY TRAILS OF NEAR DEATH AND ESCAPE
NEAR MISSES AND SWIPES OF CLAW AND PAW

FORM SCARES AND MARES ON THEIR THICK HIDE
WAVES OF FEIRCE RESISTANCE RISE AGAINST THE TEMPESTUOUS TIDE

Bombardment of bodies against that tawny terror.
Horns heave, shove, push, and move. 
The earth beneath them quakes, shifts, and trembles under hooves.

However determination of suffocating and straggling terror. 
Grips, bites, and holds.
The ranks brake and scatter, did there effort even matter.
No one knows, which way the battle would go. 
 
The battles have been decisive,
Now the law of tooth and claw,
It has been written, sealed, and decided.
© Tim Marks  Create an image from this poem.

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