Best Net Poems
For My Sister and Brother Poets
Mornings, again refreshed, I wield up a
sledgehammer to strike the stone walls of
the confinement of my assigned nativity...then
seek to emigrate from those Purposes...to go
settle, an immigrant, in the more fertile territory
of Meanings, trusting a disclosure of my birthright
as a citizen among the searching population at
the address of Poetry — twin to the Soul — more
fertile for vines from the heart, more welcoming to
the orchards of Imagination, always ripe with songs.
Today’s afternoon was spent planting a grove of pink
dogwood saplings and sapphire iris bulbs nearby...
so someday they will bask in light, feeling winds
and us, too, walking past in admiration,sprinkling
our words of appreciation across the earth over their
roots. Birds sound dearly above as the dusk nears.
I work until the first sight of winking Venus...then,
take pages and pens with a flashlight under my tent
of sheets revealing on the net, a broad company
of my sister and brother poets, recounting — each
one of us — the full scenes of our day’s graced hours,
by words to one another, from pains to joys, all-
reaching, from solitary into community, supporting,
learning...expressive, in wonder, hoping to know
the sounding rise of the Voice within, and ever
thankful for a promise of a flight on eagle’s wings.
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(c)sally Young eslinger 2/5/2021
Thanks be to God and to PoetrySoup, all of you
One day I decided to aggregate what I own
Realizing soon enough I couldn't count it all,
Though I never thought I had all that much
What I had was oddly beyond simple math.
Determined I was to know what I'm worth
And I knew the formula for how that works
So I added all assets and deducted liabilities
Yet, never could I derive the right answer.
My assets were tangible, so easy to add up
But when I thought of lives I had touched
And receipt of generosity they bestowed,
I could not appraise the value of their love.
Swiftly I subtracted what I owed to others
Feeling proud of self for I didn't owe much
Till I took account of much that was given
Not expecting from me anything in return.
When I finally accepted futility of my effort
My worth resembled faces of my loved ones,
Not susceptible to any numeric computation
Well beyond the bounds of ordinary cognition.
January 3, 2019
Placed 2nd in Food for thought poetry contest by Silent One
Computer catfish anglers
Are out phising every second, day and night
Trawling the world wide web with baited hook
For innocent victims to catch
Internet sites such as Facebook and Twitter
Supply them with constant schools of fish
How easily they reel in trusting people with their deception
Can you be one hundred percent certain
A person behind the computer screen is for real?
Trolls don’t live under the bridge like in fairy tales
Fake profiles, false pictures and fraudulent names
Intended to disguise who they really are
Sadly some victims of their abuse resort to suicide
Hope these evil ‘catfish’ get caught and end up in court
Catfish Contest
Sponsored by Catie Lindsey
5/30/18
A feeling of nearness to suffering
In our hearts
While we reduce the dimensions
Of the essence of light
With our eyes
In a local scuffle
Them
They have woven a net around us.
Bearing the pains of life
While watching the people with sullen faces
And tired thoughts
All along the years
We have heard the whistle of whips...
With well-concealed thoughts
Those
Never thought of us
And... without any mercy
Have woven a net around us.
by Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Traduit par Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by F.J. Bergmann, 2002
dreams of rest
that are bequest
good fortunes
on the mile
old english
(the final wish)
a cause for one to smile
for what hath naught
time forgot
all but for the script
stroke of pen
age from then
and now the time of trick
the dreams of when
(that ads do send)
taken with a smile
from times of old
warm or cold
are debt with a smile
Shake
this hand,
my friendship
to you,I send
each
day,
poet
and good friend-
in fellowship,
these
best
wishes
be with you
in this handshake
true-
for
in verse,
your talent
brings honour to
you
It was 1971, and I wore fish net stockings at the end of the school year
I had no garter belt so I used knots but they soon fell to my ankles, Oh Dear !
December 1, 2021
ps, This is a true story. My Aunt Annetta worked in a hosiery factory
she brought me some bright pink fish net socks and told me to wait
until mom bought me a garter belt. I was so eager to wear them
I did what all the grown women do, put knots in them. But as I
walked into the gymnasium, the stockings fell to my ankles.
I never forgot the embarrassing moment. Although
it seems quite funny today, it was quite a disaster back then.
My balsa wood float rides ripple and wave
My bait unappealing today
Fingers frostbitten but I shall be brave
As I try to catch something to weigh
The cormorant seems to be doing okay
The seagull is eating his fill
The otters aren’t gonna go hungry today
And the pike is awaiting a kill
The Kingfisher fishes alone and aloof
The heron jabs quick as a spear
This riverside haven, I’ve fished since my youth
I still bring a truck load of gear
But ponder this truth under my canvas roof
There used to be far more fish here
A newty knit a net of knots and thought it rather fitting.
But knew he not, that naughty newt, that nets are not for knitting.
The World is caught in net!
Pull up the anchor one last time
Then thrust my oar into the foamy brine
Often have I churned
with arms that burned
My home became a darkened speck
Resting upon the horizon's deck
I'll cast my net no more
For the far away shore
And I'll no longer dwell
Within Poseidon's swell
My calluses I've earned
For Siren's graces I've yearned
My eyes still watered and burned
The oars quicken as I churned
But I'll no longer cast my nets
To fill with inky regrets
I bid farewell to my family first
A salty sea to quench my thirst
Life's adventures have passed me by
Now in my funerary vessel I lie
And I'll cast my net no more
For the far away shore
I am listening
No you are not
I have told you do not fret
Stay close to Me my precious child
I am your safety net
I look out for your heartaches
And I've come to ease your pain
I've special healing powers
If you just speak out My Name
The Lord God of the heavens
Is beside you all the way
Ask Me to come
I'm sure to run
And we will see a brand new day
Tension you can cut with a knife.
The crowd so divided.
Players with limbs so lithe.
Three long months since they last collided.
Into the circle centre took a step.
The whistle was blown.
Next instant, the players after the ball leapt.
So competitive. So in the zone.
Brothers verses Sisters.
Husbands verses wives.
No Missus or Mister's.
Just two teams. Two sides.
Wing attack bowled over.
Wing defence offside.
If your gonna challenge us ever.
At least revise the rules, guys!
Treating it too much like football,
Long shots over head.
No short and fast passes of the ball,
Like play should be instead.
Goal attack sharp and fast.
Goal defence big and...just big.
Bounce passes needed for our lead to last.
Pathetic is their too confident jig.
Goal keeper so tall.
Solid in defence.
Goal shooter so small.
Imparts their skill thence.
At the edge of the hall.
One hundred breaths were held.
Now! The three second rule!
No closer a stare on that ball could've been held.
Up past the keepers wild lunge.
High above the net.
Before down, down- the plunge.
Right through that scraggerly net.
Excitement rapidly boiling.
Till echoed the explosion.
Seven girls with joy squealing.
Seven guys in gutted humiliation.
But we hold up our hands.
At the final score.
Your win of that game stands.
And your sportsmanship we implore.
But come the summer.
When we play you again.
We'll show no mercy.
Even to you our men.
Until that fateful day,
Peace over our church reigns.
After all, the more fun it'll stay.
If rare the satisfaction remains.
The old Scotsman burred loud on the dock:
" Bring along more than tackle and block!
For if yah cast out yer net,
yah might live to regret
bringing ole Nessie up out of the Loch!"
Her will is iron, baked in an ashy bleakness over eyes that were once bright
–she longs to break.
A thousand tears would evaporate on this impassible rage,
she glares with dull purity of thought.
Triumphant fists gloat above her potency, imploring
–she watches in scornful fascination.
Every breath rasps over the dagger in her throat, aching to be released.
she swallows harshly.
-she spins her web in secret -