Best New(A) Poems
guided streams of bright lights few squeeze through a crystal tight sky
colours this nature scene brand new a freshly baked pumpkin spiced pie
a random popsicle purple glaze
a toddler's finger painted blaze
the friendliest of all the river trees
dances calmly with a random breeze
the sun dives into his liquid bronze fate
as the wild plants wave back to placate
daily harmony here come with ease
while humans struggle just to appease
Living Truth
Ancient guides of venerated truth
Stumble through numb spiritual graveyards
Where truth casts its shadow in chiseled words,
A signature of affection,
On moss bathed alabaster stones that once
Gleamed in treasures of veracity,
Autographed insights of the ancient sages
Screams out the litany of wisdom
Then begs, like balm, the insomniac unconscious heart
To intone a resurrection,
A living trove of living verbs in action
Breaking from the bondage of a chrysalis redecorated
With raw promises to shake off stagnation,
Relight the lantern star of the eternal spring’s veracity
Springing into actions that rise from stone inertia
Insight’s revelation releases a new song of songs
Truth that lives anew –
That propels the quest of new a-ha’s
That plants new reasons for renewed actions
In the waiting heart embraced.
5-3-22
Contest: Our Truth
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
1st Place Our Truth
Colorful tassels swirl around the pine
Hovering brightly on dazzle of lights,
Richer the kindred prayers, so divine
Inviting Babe Jesus to join our rites.
Songs peal with laughter and new wishes blow,
To remind each other that gratitude
Means special for the hearth's love,all aglow;
As ornamental candles drift, so hued!
Starry-eyed, a lacy table is dressed
More cheerful the beams; it's Gram's festive treat;
Awakening kids’ last surprise, how blessed
Gift- giving is, through a Yuletide complete.
In the magic of this radiant eve,
Comes hope's spirit true, in which we believe!
Andrea Dietrich’s Contest
Something New: A Christmas Sonnet Acrostic
` syllables checked through www.howmanysyllables.com
12/17/2015
The breaking of dawn
and I start my day off with a yawn,
the dew covered the lawn,
the cool air blowing through my window
as the streets still soaked with the nightfall rain
comforted the scene of a beautiful sunrise
a gorgeous start to a new day.
See the flowers covered with droplets of dew and rain
feeling no such thing we call pain,
Dawn breaks,
as the sun rises with its powerful rays
that blind me in the far East,
the purple midnight skies go away,
and are replaced by ocean blue waves
and marshmallow, puffy clouds
that hold no more rain.
The sky idel upon a canvass of life
as the morning comutes travel down the steps
with coffee and newspaper in hand.
The women walking their dogs,
men catching the morning buses to work.
No use for pork
when you can't catch the morning train.
And then it starts to rain.
But the sun still shines,
and the moon is still out,
this moment, as dawn breaks
we are stuck in a parrallel between two worlds.
Such beauty in a morning sunrise
as the blue, dawn covered streets shine
as the sun reaches high over the Eastern treelines
and the lions roar and the birds fly south.
Waking up to a new, broad day
next to you, as the sun shines upon your sweet face.
I compare you to a morning sunrise
as Dawns break into a silent worldpool of a new beginning.
Something tells me that I am going to have a good day.
Waking up to a new, a new dawn
with a loud and relaxing yawn,
as I smell the dew on the lawn
See the moon and stars fade away,
and purple twilights go to sleep, on some other part of the world
Love for a sunrise in a morning dawn
that is the most beautiful scene any man has ever seen!
For the Contest: Morning Poems
Sponser: Poet Destroyer A
Written by: Christopher Boskovski
P.S. A poem for you my lovely Linda, I hope you enjoy this lovely and beautiful poem about the break of Dawn! :)
green grass, blue skies;
doesn't mean it's a good day;
birds singing in the trees...
rabbits and squirrels sitting across the way, watching me;
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
robins and sparrows screaming/squawking what appearance how they talk...
talking...
talking to me;
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
what does this mean, to me...
OH
OH
OH, God you are
SO
SO
God you are SO beautiful
Oh, oh, Lord God;
You are
you are so beautiful;
the maker of all this;
heaven and earth you have created (bliss);
you created...
oh the joy of the joys I rejoice forever more;
cause I long for your embrace and your new a firmament;
My new celestial home;
I can hardly wait, but yet I can somehow taste, the sweet manna
raining down, I'll have my hand out;
as you say "Welcome- home"
Oh God your so beautiful
A man and his wife they co create life;
But only with you whether it be in honor or strife;
a new birth is born;
some nine months later is formed...
a new born, birth a baby is born
Oh, Lord
Thank you Father;
for the good, for the bad, what I got, what I've had..
what I found, what I lost, you are the upmost;
I can hardly wait, but yet I can somehow taste, and see the manna;
raining down, raining down falling out the platter,
raining down from the 3rd heaven;
I'll have my hand out;
as you say "Son/Daughter Welcome- home'
OH
OH
OH
God you're so beautiful;
Oh, Lord God you are so beautiful
OH, Lord God you are,
you are
you're so
YOU are SO BEAUTIFUL
( From James E. Lee "Reverence Anthology" 6/2017
My Sarah
When I looked at you last week trying on your new boots
Those almond eyes sparkling at something new, a gift
I saw my little pink girl, a princess, playing dress up again
Your long hair draped your high cheekbones
Life still a game, tinged with drama and theatre
As you look for fun in all your pursuits!
A player in life with a passion for cooking and music
You have become a kind, loyal, vivacious young woman
Self assured, grounded with a love of tradition
I looked at you and felt an overwhelming pride.
Sunday’s child is ' bonny, blithe, good and gay' they say
Befitting my Sabbath girl, a model child of few demands
Your bedroom a vast sea of Barbie and friends
A Passion for story-time and books
Your Dutch life with Irish sea-touched roots,
You are a real continental
A great scholar with degrees in Law and Psychoanalysis
You have found your true love with Luis, a Spaniard
As you both prepare to leave the Emerald Isle
I wonder at the achievement of you!
I Once New A Poet Named Nina
She sat pondering about the days when she was a pretty ballerina
When asked about her name by a stranger wearing nothing but shorts
She turned around and told him it is Jeanina.
Written by Nina E Dalin
www.jeanniearomea.com
BOTOX BRIGADE
Oh so numb, I can’t stop myself drooling,
Can’t feel my brows, touch them, one is drooping,
My lips I feel are massively huge and swollen,
I should have realized that this was a bad omen.
My cheeks are sore, injected frequently,
Obsessed by the media talk increasingly,
I dare not put lipstick on, for I’ll look like a clown,
I stare at the mirror in horror, I have no frown.
For boobs I requested a size thirty six
Simply wanted to be one of the chicks,
But the surgeon had extra silicone,
Even the so famous Dolly I outshone!
A nip and a tuck were done on my tummy,
Which I inherited after becoming a mummy,
And after the final touch of a firmer bum
I looked like new, a different me I had become.
I knew I was in fact addicted,
This was to me often predicted,
Developed scars, no recognizable features,
Too late, now one of many Botox cheaters.
AFTER HAVING SEEN A DOUMENTARTY ABOUT OBSESSIVE PLASTIC SURGERY
Come caroling on Christmas Day, my love.
Hark merry sounds, one spirit sings as two.
Rise carols high above white turtle dove
In flight with cardinals of reddest hue.
Sing loud of peace and joy and jingle bells
Together as we glide o’er sparkling field.
More music blends with wind and wintry smells -
All spice, pine cones and tasty treats concealed.
Snow powders us in magic, soft and white.
My hands and heart are warmed by you so near.
Until the day retreats in full moon light,
Sing tenderly into my loving ear.
If New Year, like a thief, takes you away,
Could you return to me 'fore Christmas Day?
Written 12/9/15 for Andrea's Something New: A Christmas Sonnet Acrostic Contest
It was simply an old rusty tractor
An eyesore for passers by
A graveyard, at the back, of a pasture
All covered with weeds and vines
Curiously, on slow approach,
I wanted a closer look
Carefully climbed the barbed wire fence
Hopping over a weed wild brook
What once had been paint was flaked and gray
Oxidized and turning brown
Left to die, to bake in the sun
And weather back into the ground
Some of it's parts were stripped away
Others hanging by wires
The steering wheel and seat had strayed
Yet four worn out flattened tires
Days of use had long since passed
The weather had taken it's toll
A necessity which was built to last
Still standing and left alone
But to me it stood for something more
It stood for time and growth
Shiny and new a dream of yore
Some family's lives and hopes
How times have changed lives been sustained
The wind and dust have swirled
With growth of crops, growth of a country
The growth of a starving world
Though time had been unkind to it
Now a tombstone out in the clear
As I rubbed the rust from the relic's side
Engraved was the name John Deere
An original poem by "poemdog" Daniel Turner
Dogs barking in the front yard
Tractor made of steel
Blades of grass
Growing green
Looking out the kitchen window
Pulled the curtains back
Dirt road by the house
They always drive to fast
Dumpster cross the road
A corner made of trash
Can’t live here in this place
Daddy says so
Willie on the radio
I guess it’s time to go
Seventeen and not so sweet
Poverty my destiny
A child on my hip
Never new a man too smart
But I had feelings
That wouldn’t say no
Working at the filling station
Out on the interstate
Just washing windows
And counting out of state plates
Makes me happy
Don’t pay the bills
Telephone poles
And wired fences
All along the way
Driving fast on a dirt road
Is all I have
Wind in my hair
Baby in the back seat
Smiling at the world
This old world seems so mean
Pushing hard to just to breath
I’ll give it all away
For a breath of country air.
(Bal-e-Jibril-151) Javed Iqbal Ke Naam:
(On receiving first letter of Javed Iqbal(Late Son of Dr Allama Iqbal) in London)
https://youtu.be/jGv1lCDjHEk
Senior Justice Javed Iqbal (5 October 1924 – 3 October 2015) was a Pakistani philosopher and senior justice of the Supreme Court of Pakistan. He was internationally known for his acclaimed publications on philosophy of law and modern Islamic philosophy in international and national journals.
He was the son of the poet-philosopher Dr. Muhammad Allama Iqbal, who inspired the Pakistan Movement. Javed authored various books on Pakistan's nationalism movement and political ideology. Apart from philosophy, Javed had a prolific career in the Judiciary of Pakistan and was a former Chief Justice of the Lahore High Court before being elevated to the Supreme Court. He received the Hilal-i-Imtiaz Award in 2004.
1.Diyar-e-Ishq Mein Apna Maqam Paida Kar
Naya Zamana, Naye Subah-o-Sham Paida Kar
Build in love’s empire your hearth and your home;
Build Time a new, a new dawn, a new eve!
2.Khuda Agar Dil-e-Fitrat Shanas De Tujh Ko
Sakoot-e-Lala-o-Gul Se Kalaam Paida Kar
Your speech, if God give you the friendship of Nature,
From the rose and tulip’s long silence weave.
3.Utha Na Sheesha Garan-e-Farang Ke Ehsan
Sifal-e-Hind Se Meena-o-Jaam Paida Kar
No gifts of the Franks’ clever glass-bowers ask!
From India’s own clay mould your cup and your flask.
4.Main Shakh-e-Taak Hun, Meri Ghazal Hai Mera Samar
Mere Samar Se Mai-e-Lala Faam Paida Kar
My songs are the grapes on the spray of my vine;
Distil from their clusters the poppy-red wine!
5.Mera Tareeq Ameeri Nahin, Faqeeri Hai
Khudi Na Baich, Ghareebi Mein Naam Paida Kar!
The way of the hermit, not fortune, is mine;
Sell not your soul! In a beggar’s rags shine.
Kalam e Iqbal(Answer to First Letter of Son of Dr. Allama Iqbal By Himself).
Translated by Aliza Kashmala Kiran.
Beneath the layers of everyday living the
Reality and grandeur of life is present in
Even the smallest of things that often go unnoticed.
At the flowering of green in a sidewalk crack,
To the determination of the smallest ant,
Here is the wonder of the world around us.
Taken singularly, we often miss their significance,
Altogether, it can be breathtaking.
Kids are often more aware of little things,
It may be because it is all new, a daily discovery.
New eyes to see the bud, the caterpillar, the clouds.
Gladden your hearts with some of the little things...
3/10/16
C heers to the children as they sing in choirs,
H ear their voices,their wish this Yuletide;
R efrains are tunes of their pure heart’s desires:
I n all nations, may love and peace reside.
S ee the stars of dreams in their loving eyes,
T heir three-colored candles shimmer their lights,
M ay the spirit of sharing strengthens ties
A nd no more hate nor war, their future’s night.
S ilver and golden bells hang on pine trees,
M agically ring in carols of kids;
U nwinding notes in tuneful melodies,
S ay, save their lives and give the joy they need.
I ncreasing the volume of this music-----
“C hildren have the wands of Christmas magic.”
©2015Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Dec. 20, 2015. 12.25pm
Tenth Place
Contest: Something New: A Christmas Sonnet Acrostic
Judged: 12/24/2015
Sponsor: Poet Andrea Dietrich
Sitting on the porch
neath the old Oak,
breakfast is over,
bacon, fried yeast bread and peach preserves
canned by hand in ancient jars.
They’ve seen their share of life,
garden tomatoes,
blanched to remove the skin,
peeled and crushed,
a smidge of salt and hint of lemon,
lovingly filled
as the sweat is wiped from furtive brow,
and the last of the butter beans are picked
…taters dug.
Watermelons and cantaloupes are long gone,
only the pumpkins remain in the garden,
their leaves yellowing from green,
their cheeks blushing orange,
awaiting their ritual makeover of snaggle toothed grins
and flickering hollow stares.
The summer season slowly, limpidly
goes to sleep.
Sweet tea at hand,
the ice has all melted,
and the clacking rhythm of the old rocking chair
slowed,
as time stands silent
in the oppressive heat.
If you look through the clear glass
now there is held
the sweetness of Autumn’s fruit,
strawberries and blueberries
and of course sweet, succulent, juicy peaches.
fruit and sugar and nothing more,
cooked to perfection,
with slow caring hands.
How many pints and quarts
over how many years have these bent fingers held.
Soon now those same jars will empty
and soap and water will wash
from them the years of use,
the memories we’ve shared
...but the love will remain.
The rusted rings will be thrown away,
the broken seals replaced,
and like new a young, strong set of hands
will heat the jars …sterilizing …each one,
preparing them, one by one,
to be filled with the new memories and love they will hold.
11/23/17