Best Nichole Poems


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O God of the universes of Creation as a whole
I raise my hands; and open my heart and soul.'
Prostrate I call upon your power, to bless my
Friends in these long dark hours' these days
Long abhorred stand now at their doors, I ask
You gird their spirits with strength; enlighten their 
Minds that they drive hence' each evil time that
They may face, pray turn them into typhoons
That will remove each trace; those of fear, of doubt 
and all false pride, beside them;  I ask your power
Resides, of your angel throng assign to them 
More than they ever need, these women and men.'

Andrea Deitrich Michael Tor Heidi sands Connie
Marcum Wong Judy Ball Bill Baker Robert Ligouri 
Joseph May Harry Horseman Brother Jacob
Sally Eslinger Sara Kendrick Sam Kaufman Joe
Dimino Len Gasun Pangiota Romios James
Marshall Goff Billy the Kidster Vince Suzdail
Jnr Kim Rodriuges Beta Augustin Rob Carmac
Robert Lindley Brandy Nichole Laura Leiser
And last, but not least B J Legros Kelly '
Much Love to all.'

May they each put to flight any 5000 that come
Up against them in any honourable venture they
Embark upon, be that written spoken or intimated
May you be with them each one dear Lord in Jesus
Name with the Holy Spirit as witness.'
Categories: nichole, appreciation, assonance, christian, courage,
Form: Rhyme

The Amber Nichole

I was the captain of the Amber Nichole
No prouder captain was there than me
She was the very essence of my soul
A finer ship never sailed any sea.

We braved the seas from shore to shore
In search of treasure and adventure
The world was our playground to explore
And no place was too far to venture.

Then came that terrible night at sea
With raging thunder that shook my soul
The storm of storms that ripped me
From the deck of the Amber Nichole!

I watched my proud ship from the swells
Through the storm go down by the keel
And I knew that I would never set sail
On her again, nor stand behind her wheel.

I've been stranded here ten years
In this desert so far from sea
Cast away, with only my tears
And my precious memories.

But I'm crying an ocean of tears
So I can set sail again one day
On a raft, I've built out of prayers
I'm just a few million tears away.

And when I find where she lies
Where she sank to Davey's Deep
Then there I'll lay me down to die
And pray the Lord my soul to keep...

On the deck of the Amber Nichole!
In the arms of my little girl
In the bosom of my soul
And, the center of my world.

Hush little darling don't you cry
Your daddy's gonna love ya child
Until the end of time....




                            Timothy I. Brumley
                   (To my daughter Amber.....I miss you.)
Categories: nichole, daughter, loss, lovestorm,
Form: Rhyme

Always -N- Forever June 13 09

We have been through so much,
yet, somehow we have survived it all.
Through the good times and the bad, the sorrow and the pain, the smiles and the 
frowns,
but, here we are still standing tall.

Together we are standing,
proudly side by side,
To join our lives, families and friends,
as I take you for my bride.

Together on this glorious day we will be,
combining two hearts, two body's, two minds.
I have been blessed, an angel sent to me,
Nichole, you are the one I was meant to find.

Finally my life is whole, 
complete I would say,
With the finishing touches I am about to receive,
on our beautiful wedding day.

My promising vow to you will be,
is to love, honor and cherish my beautiful treasure.
You are my soul-mate, my angel, my heart baby girl,
Always and Forever.


Dedicated to:   My beautiful wife Nichole S. Larson
Categories: nichole, weddingbeautiful, beautiful,
Form: Epithalamium

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Mothers Time Machine

She lays you down in bed
As you start to fall asleep
She stares at your face
While you start to dream
She rubs your head
In the motion of a stream,
As you finally dose
She looks at your eyes
You are now on an adventure
Searching in the skies.
The woman I speak of
Is also called mom
She makes sure you are happy
From dusk until dawn
She never gets mad
Over a mess of your toys
She doesn’t overact
When you make a lot of noise
The clock spins around
As time passes by
This young baby girl
Is now in Junior High,
More independent she stands
At this time in her life
She is starting to figure out
What’s wrong and what’s right
Although this is true
Her mother is still there
To comfort her in need
And stroke at her hair
The clock jumps again
To when the girl is eighteen
By this time in life
It is the world she has seen
Starting to pay bills
And live a bit free
Her mom is still there
Standing a bit back
But showing she still cares,
A few months pass
While the girl must engage
Not meaning a wedding
But walking a stage
This young adult
Is going to finish cool
As she grabs her diploma
And graduates high school
She feels so happy
To hold it in her hand
But way deep inside
This girl cannot hide
She know she would not be here
Without her mom by her side
She runs up to hug her
While down fall the tears
The clock has now skipped
A few more years
This girl is now twenty
Almost twenty-one
By the time her mom reads this
School will be done
The girls name is Brandi
I’m not talking about wine
The great name above
Is actually mine
My mom is my power
She keeps my head strong
She backs me up
Even when I’m in the wrong
Her name is Cindy
But I call her mom
This poem is for her
Because she is the bomb
 
The Poem was written by,
Brandi Nichole Hodgson
Categories: nichole, adventure, blessing, childhood, deep,
Form: Rhyme

Vini Vidi Vici

I

I came-
The world tasting
Like raspberry candy,
Our orb a snowglobe of which to
Shake up.

II

I saw
Lightening skies,
Dawn breaking over roofs-
I sighed, inhaling the beauty
Today.

III

I conquered
Worlds with my pen!
Filling pages with ink;
Filling minds with words that speak
Of tomorrow.




"Vini Vidi Vici"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Categories: nichole, allegory, art, dedication, happiness,
Form: Cinquain

Bloodless On Mother's Day

There is a glare of stray sunlight
daring to reverberate
through spiderwebbed glass I haven't
found energy to fix
in the span of four years.
It is too much of a mirror,
too tangible a thought,
to make new.
It's lithe fingers, thin and bony, 
and mockingly bright,
steal over embossed cardstock that arrives, like clockwork,
in deepest sympathy.
And a thornless bouquet of pastels laden with
Babies Breath
only draws on blood long lost;
nobody seems to comprehend such an allegory,
or lack there of,
so it can't be carried
over the steps.




"Bloodless On Mother's Day"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Categories: nichole, allegory, angst, childhood, daughter,
Form: Elegy


Me

Just A Girl, Nichole

 Surviving In A Mans World Alone

Me And My Pen
Categories: nichole,
Form: Haiku

My Lasting Treasure September 2006

Inside my heart there was an empty space,
it was waiting for you.
Something changed in my life, a sudden burst of happiness came over me,
a reality so true.

I always felt something was missing,
until the day I see your face.
You brought something new to my world, so exciting,
yet real, now I've found my place.

You take my breath away Nichole,
with your smile, your eyes, your laughter and touch.
I feel empty without you next to me,
lonely, lost inside, I need you so much.

One stroke of your hand down by body
and I fill up with butterflies.
You amaze me with what one simple touch of your hands can do to me,
I now know how special I am, thanks to you I now realize.

With you I can be myself,
no worries, no complications, you are so sweet.
I feel special, loved, on top of the world,
because of you I am complete.

I wish that you was here with me, I want to hold you, kiss you, touch you,
tell you how special you are to me.
You have giving meaning back into my life,
you've shown me happiness and now I am finally free.

I'm missing you, thinking about holding you in my arms,
I dream of holding you real tight.
You are so far away but yet, so close to my heart,
I have  you in my sight.

I need your body close to me,
to feel your skin touching mine.
To have your arms wrapped around my waist,
peace in you I'll find.

Tonight I want you to be mine completely, 
not just for a moments pleasure.
I want you for the rest of my life,
to love you, to be my lasting treasure.

Dedicated To:  Nichole Larson
Categories: nichole, devotion, happiness, hope, inspirational,
Form: Epyllion

My Love

My Love
It's gaping maw insatiable,
Crawls trembling toward lurid
Sunlight.

It is a bottom feeder;
An aphorism for suppressed passion.

That amorphous wretch:
Refusal to cease equating
Suffering and nonsense,
To love and the masquerade-

I shiver at the thought.



"My Love"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Categories: nichole, allegory, angst, introspection, love,
Form: Free verse

Saint

I have been at a loss for cumbersome syllables
And dislocated octaves,
Which tumble in lazy metaphors from lips
Smeared with cheap makeup in declarative shades
Of fire engine spectacles, muddy rouge,
Polluted sunset pink,
To mask a cadaver's stitches, preventing
My Heart's restless peaks from bursting forth
Into senselessness.

Where have cognitive examinations flown
Off to, cradling air with hollow bones-
With the flowers, or the cowboys.
Lucidity snatches at April's
Lionlamb air;
I catch falling words on your tongue, like
Raindrops.

Strip my world, proverbial paint thinner
Peeling pseudo-realistic wallpaper
In sunburn fakes,
Of all falsities I've shacked my wrists with.
Paint over my
Red crayon scrawled morale
With You. 



"Saint"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Categories: nichole, dedication, devotion, faith, girlfriend-boyfriend,
Form: Free verse

To a Closed Mind

Here I am: a product of coffee shop
    bricks and apparition footsteps-freakishly
    paradoxical, hungrily swallowing placebos 
    disguised as Penicillin.
I harbor words deep into my hingeless ribcage 
    keep their tangled veins behind my
    lovestained, hatchet hacked Heart;
They cannot be silenced.
Who needs to know them anyways?
They are brittle cattle skulls left in
    desert sun, elderly faces stare
    back at me, cradled in my eye sockets where
    they should not belong.
Puppetry: I am a marionette on semicolon strings
    curled around their blithe and bony fingers
    which stroke the dimensions of my brain with pseudo-malice,
    fingernails dug into white matter,
    the right hemisphere's wounded meat. A ghost of past;
    inkstains still dripping like oil off
    severed whale bones hung to dry.
My sickly verses maintain their steady cancer.
Seeds I've consumed in hopes of daisies
    made me a deafmute Persephone, whom
    devours youth like Heroin. Unashamed.



"To A Closed Mind"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Categories: nichole, happiness, imagination, introspection, life,
Form: Free verse

On Fenrir

A demon, you say? A boy with blank
    eye sockets and lips of fire-restless
    words tumble from his flower of a mouth;
I think Ashbery talked about this in some
    helium light manner, and Blake in his
    heavy, fleshy way.
See, all the poets warned me
but I used no discretion: 
Split up the middle, I ate every seed and became
    Persephone. I drank blood oaths,
    the sun feeling more empty with each sip-
    My tongue flashed wetly across Heaven.
A spectre without punctuation, blue and frozen
    in half dead thought-light pours down
    through the grave-
the dirt was not packed down tightly as hoped.
On the streets, we blush, squawking awkwardly 
    of trite matters in public like a mask we take
    off in the hours the sky is made of charcoal.
I will shine a dull brass if you will be
    Fenrir; promise to devour my small sliver
    of daylight? Substitute words for alcohol, I
    haven't eaten in days: preoccupation
Chasing Ghosts.



"On Fenrir"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Categories: nichole, allegory, dedication, devotion, introspection,
Form:

Quiet

I wish they taught more about
Heartbreak in English class;
That I would see your face
In stormclouds, when
Bronze from the sunset scribbles
Our names in the sky.
It is happening every day.

I am no prize
In my Rossington-Collins band teeshirt
And deliberately torn jeans,
Sitting on the end of the street-
The place where horizon brush strokes
Abruptly end.



"Quiet"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Categories: nichole, art, childhood, devotion, fantasy,
Form: Elegy

Silver Lining

Silk scarved words; silver lined apocalypse-
   A distant stars regret will not ever
Surmount rash amounts of emotion, this
   Disgusting leak of Heart, preyed on. Never
To match sunstroked day breaking; wint'ry
   Fragments protrude strangely from corpse smiles
Which speak speak drifting incantations with me,
   A deaf mute, caged by the shine of your eyes.
Traversing a circle of little Death,
   A cycle of red and blues: cardiac
Arrest of the sweetest sortings; now to mesh
   Touch with sultry glances that counteract 
Vocal chords on the offensive. Nothing
Beyond other's whispers, not worth hearing. 



"Silver Lining"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith

(Disclaimer: I could not find a correct, per-se, form to put this under. The rhyme scheme and syllable counting match Shakespearean Sonnets, but I would consider this more of a  'Free Verse' Sonnet. As there was no proper category for me to submit this under, and I do not want readers to believe I am submitting wrong or falsely promoting my work.)
Categories: nichole, angst, devotion, lost love,
Form: Sonnet

You Must Set Yourself On Fire

A thousand midnights tread,
Highwire circus acts
Traversing the lavender Horizon-crease;

I memorize such sudden perforations,
Keep them under my swollen tongue
Only to purge them gracelessly
Back into your fist.
Replace my stumbling almost-words
With vastness:
A self-induced universe freckled by
Cauterized cigarette burn stars
And half empty beer cans.

I fill my lungs with feral smog,
You fill your head with smoke;
My nose trickles blood freely.

And if it was not for such ongoing facades--
Psuedointelect, rabid romances,
My world on unstable axis--
We might have,
By now,
Enshrined our Hearts in plaster molds,
Traded our eyes for seaglass pebbles.

The cherry blossoms have yet to bloom under
This hemisphere of the city:
Bare branches claw against dusk
and, in masochistic frost,

You burn your fingerprints into
My back.



"You Must Set Yourself on Fire"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Categories: nichole, allegory, faith, history, hope,
Form: Free verse
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