Best Ninth Poems
Candle, candle burning bright,
Blow it out, without you there is no sight.
The Moon,Moon glowing white
I see it in your face pure bright as skylight
I am a witness of this amazing thing
The smile in your eyes is....the look of Love
Little angel, oh rare piece of art
Sweet love,gentle soul you've stolen my heart
your love cuts through my heart like a dart
Treasure inside me, i will forever hold
Such pleasure it is to gaze upon you
Tenderness in your eyes..the look of love
This love makes the heart wants to sing
About the beauty of life with you in it
My diamond in landmine, sweet love
Your brown eyes ignites my desires
I desire you as the desert desires the rain
Your voice echos in my heart, my favorite melody
A loving voice that melts the winters chill
Your love takes me away to places yet unknown
At the end of the day, when i close my brown eyes
Your love entices my spirit to take flight on shimmering wings
Dancing through the skies, celebrating our love,
`Oh I love you like a panda bear loves bamboo`
Forever growing, never ending.
Categories:
ninth, love, , sweet love,
Form:
Free verse
Of The Famed Labors Of Hercules
ninth poet, poet dedication series, Emma Lazarus
Through Time's mesmerizing and meandering paths,
Colossus of heroic worship rightly praised,
He that vented his strength and fought with half-god wrath;
Mighty Son of Zeus, his feats that this world amazed,
Carved in stone, sculptor Vincenzo de’ Rossi hand
Paid for by Cosimo I de’ Medici's gold,
A Titan born into brave heart of Grecian lands,
His tales endure and will forever be told.
Image of his labors, Bargello Palace once held
When bravest of heroes were admired and lauded,
Strong and powerful were dark monsters his hands felled;
As true Greek warriors sang of and applauded.
Mythical hero representing Greek freedom
A giant, famous pride of ancient Greek kingdom.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-17-2019
Sonnet, inspired by and honoring,
poem titled, The New Colossus, by Emma Lazarus
Categories:
ninth, appreciation, art, dedication, hero,
Form:
Rhyme
49th & 50th States of the union
Hawaii and Alaska
10102014
Categories:
ninth, history, immigration,
Form:
Couplet
Preface to this brief bitty
written snap ting snapshot – word ditty
dates back before I reached gritty
age of eight and fifty, aye recall a kitty
rescued by my youngest sister, who took pity
and felt aghast,
at a potential cruel fate no witty.
Upon return home from an Antioch College coup
(so many diverse work experiences required -
some involving offal goop
i.e. case in point being this anecdote,
which may fall outside the loop
of common “hands on
off fish shawl” employment,
thee tasks on par with handling poop
stoically accepted by Shari Todd
(name of said sibling),
who when home from Davis, California
(albeit temporarily, and before she returned
to Yellow Springs, Ohio) divulged
how she did scoop
dread, dreck, dregs, et, cetera –
i.e. by product amidst fish farm
didst set her dead against being linkedin
purr animal cruelty, thus play role of troop
er – which tummy
earned her kudos a resounding whoop!
* * * * * * * * * * *
Before launching into this poem purr say
lemme mention how thine late mother
took an immediate affinity and hence no delay
that this lucky creature became akin to a bebe.
Main Coon, Felis catus, nicknamed Boozie
raccoon features, face mask, brown thick costume
handsome boy, affectionate personality, expressively vocal
Pink wet nose, emerald eyes, pointed ears
cavernous mouth, sharp teeth, rough tongue
striped design, massive fluffy fur, bushy tail
Soft paws, padded cushions, retractable blades
wild animal, predation urge, survival instinct
agile movement, swift motion, unfortunate victim
Door prize, flies feast, whitened bones
loyalty strong, pageant display,
splayed across kitchen table courtly dignity
Quiet house, sonar sounded, Cheshire upward smile
purred softly, rubbed legs, warm vacant lap
Jumping agility, firmly sequestered
Contentment expressed, internal hum, reciprocal therapy
beautiful petsmart, little monkey, comfortably sleeps
peaceful slumber, wakeful stretch, ideal life
Fortunate intervention, cat whisker to demise,
brush avoided becoming piscine meal,
kingly privileged role, heartfelt love.
Categories:
ninth, animal, beautiful, creation, cute
Form:
Elegy
Daddy left Mommy, when I was two
She really didn't know what to do
Four little children under the age of six
Was a situation, she just could not fix
Christmas was coming, she didn't have a dime
The bills were piling up at the same time
She tried to focus on her belief,
Lost the battle and applied for relief
A county program, for the very poor
Barely kept the collectors from our door
So sad she was, by her lack of funds,
She couldn't buy presents, for her little ones
With grandma watching us, she left to go out
She never came home, we were forgot about
I was too young to remember Christmas that year,
It was years, before the whole story, I'd hear
Grandma tried hard to make it right,
She took care of us until Mom returned, one night
Branded in my memory, the day of her return
After nine long months, I would later learn
Mom never mentioned the time she was away
She loved us to the fullest every single day
Twenty-four years quickly flew by
When I think of the day it happened, I cry
God took my mother on the ninth of December
Unexpected, a loss I'll always remember
Going through her belongings, we came across.
A small newspaper article, that intensified the loss
How we found it I will never know
This plea, with a picture, from so long ago
As I read the article, blurred by my tears
I was transported back, through the years
To a little girl on grandma's knee
Looking at a shabby, Christmas Tree
Crying for her mommy, who wasn't there
While grandma patted her silky hair
Grief, it hit me, no time to hesitate
When I saw the significance of the date
December ninth, the paper, said it all
Memory upon memory, I would recall
Two events, so many years apart
Yet, I could feel the child with a broken heart
Holiday Spirit, sad to say, I had none
Decorating that year without the usual fun
Mommies little tree, on a table it sat
Her homemade ornaments, and a tree mat
Going through the motions, I have to admit
All I wanted to do, was quit
Events don't shape us, they make us learn
Even grief, has its turn
Memories of a Christmas, thirty years past
Impressions, they fade, but still last
By Karla Null~Godsgift~
Your "Saddest" Christmas Ever Contest
Sponsored by Constance LaFrance~A Rambling Poet~
Categories:
ninth, childhood, death, loss, mother,
Form:
Couplet
‘did you hear it’, he asks me in a dream.
‘I haven’t stopped listening’, I say.
‘I wish I could hear it, just once’, he says with a pained smile.
‘the Ode to Joy moves me to tears’, I say.
‘I wish I could hear my sobs’, says Ludwig ruefully.
‘I wish I could see my tears’, I say.
He laughs a laugh he cannot hear.
I laugh too,
my eyes brimming with tears,
that only Ludwig can see
Categories:
ninth, music, passion, song-sorrow, me,
Form:
If it were only me, I will be doing anyhow
Nobody would have been there to challenge me now
Now I look back into the face of the future,
What I see, golden grains, people of peasant pictures;
Red roses rooted in the soils of 29th August,
Some still sailing other down in the dazzling dust;
Blessed blueprint on earth pages by sincere sages,
Firm footprint by men with messages for all ages:
Ingrid Bergman, the mother of motion picture
Won worldwide awards, with firm face and features.
Michael Jackson, king of pop, sensational singer,
Dances and drums, thrilled the throng with Thriller*
Isabel Stanford, first African American, actress- leader
To win Emmy Award, Guess who is coming to dinner*
William Friedkin, award winning American producer,
The French connection*, the exorcist’s*… super screenwriter.
Richard Attenborough; British born, powerful TV producer,
Multiple Award winner for Gandhi *: a daring drama.
Rebecca De Mornay; an American film and TV actress,
Thrilled in the Testament* and her roles in Risky business*
Oh, Lauren Collins; an alluring actress, a colorful Canadian;
Thrilled in The Next generation*; she shares my day: a Nigerian.
John McCain, an ambitious American politician, a senior senator,
From Arizona, lived a lively life, formerly an active aviator.
Thom Gunn, a passionate and multiple award-winning poet,
For priceless poems collections…the man with night sweats*
Charles Kettering, American, an inspiring, intriguing inventor,
Invented automobile self starter and engine-powered generator.
Too many to mention: poets, actors, sportsmen and philosophers
Men and women: wise, wild and wonderful; lively, not loafers.
Adeite Adeleke, see the soaring stars who share thy dear date;
Learn from their fame, faults and frailty, focus on faith and fate.
Categories:
ninth, dedication
Form:
Couplet
Bottom of the ninth and we’re down
by two, let’s just see what our team can do.
Here we go ladies and gentlemen,
can our team comeback and win.
Our leadoff batter is up at the plate,
I must say he has been hitting great.
He’s got the sign and here's the pitch,
it’s thrown down in the ditch.
So we have one ball and no strikes,
low and away is what he likes.
Here’s pitch number two,
what will the anxious batter do.
He swings his mighty bat,
deep to centerfield is where it’s at.
Quickly he rounds first base,
while to the ball the fielder does race.
Safely at third our guy does rest,
now all we can do is hope for the best.
Trying to control the quivers,
he winds up and delivers.
His sinker dropped like lead,
but is popped over the shortstop’s head.
The hitter arrives safely at first,
now here is a batter well versed.
So we see a fastball is thrown,
a big mistake he should have known.
The ball is up and going deep,
possibly a souvenir for someone to keep.
It is way back and out of here,
every fan begins to cheer.
Our team went on the attack,
and despite the odds have came back.
Looks like the game is done,
for in the bottom of the ninth we won.
Categories:
ninth, adventure, funny, imagination, people,
Form:
Rhyme
Two outs
Bottom of the ninth
Two balls
Two strikes
Wendy up at bat
Coy and demure
Peter on the mound
Anxious and determined
Stares down the batter
Looking for a sign
Wendy winks
Peter winds up
A slider down the middle
Categories:
ninth, baseball, fantasy,
Form:
Narrative
My father is now pitching the bottom of the ninth inning.
We need a few more tests to determine just how many outs he has left.
I had the opportunity this past weekend to visit him on the mound and ask him how
he was feeling.
“I still feel like I can get them out” he said, “I just wasn’t expecting Cancer to come
to the plate.”
Nobody was.
My mother has caught all nine innings and she still remains the receiver of this
battery.
One of the seven fielders behind him had to leave the game early and awaits him in
the great beyond.
We all wait anxiously for the scouting report to help us determine just how to attack
this batter as he steps up to the plate.
We may be able to throw fast balls and get him out with an operation.
Or, if he has spread out too far, curve balls, chemotherapy and radiation may be the
best approach.
Or, if he is too formidable, we may just need to intentionally walk him.
The test results will help us determine our plan of attack.
Regardless, however, my father has pitched a masterful game.
I tipped my hat to him as I returned back to Seattle while he confers with his
battery mate and waits for the test results.
All of his fans are now aware of the batter he faces and all have risen to their feet in
applause and gratitude for the way he has played the game.
I learned this game and much more from the old man.
I would consider myself a blessed man if I could manage to play it half as good as
he.
One thing I know – he will face this batter, be it his last or not, just like all the
others; with a smart ass grin on his face and the assured confidence that it is he
who is the better man in this struggle.
Go get him, Dad.
Regardless of the outcome, it is already known that you have won the game.
We couldn’t be any prouder of how you played it.
I am glad you get the chance to hear the standing ovation – you deserve it.
Categories:
ninth, fatherfather, father, may, cancer,
Form:
Narrative
9
How can tomorrow come if yesterday never dies
The only future I vision, is always tied to the past
All this happened for a reason is one of many lies
That may sound crazy, but I know what it implies
There's no reason in this, opportunities were vast
How can tomorrow come if yesterday never dies
In the pain, suffering and loneliness, I became wise
Understanding there's a love that will always last
All this happened for a reason is one of many lies
So many chances to right the wrong, many tries
But the pain and the distance we couldn't outlast
How can tomorrow come if yesterday never dies
I can hardly even recognize you in your disguise
The show continues, but I'm no longer in the cast
All this happened for a reason is one of many lies
We continue on ignoring our very own soul’s cries
What the future holds for us now I've often asked
How can tomorrow come if yesterday never dies
All this happened for a reason is one of many lies
Categories:
ninth, depression, memory,
Form:
Villanelle
duskfall creature,
tipsy on the blood of the covenant,
tell me, when did you pull the ninth card?
when your fangs grew in
and your eyes grew tired,
what made you build the castle walls?
the sunlight burns, you protest,
every silver-backed mirror a reminder to forget.
close the books, put down your stakes,
because the real world doesn’t work like that, creature of the night.
shame hasn’t cured the illness.
you paint a picture of their stares in the back of your eyelids
etch their whispers into the corners of your mind,
bear the weight of their crosses.
duskfall creature,
drunkenly playing the hermit,
why do you push the wooden stake against your own chest?
Categories:
ninth, allegory, anxiety, discrimination, gothic,
Form:
Free verse
Liar
Oh yes
Oh yes, liar they'd call me
If they could see my thoughts
Broken dreams, they manifest
Desire to control the rest
Your little liar controls the way you move
Inches over the line
That separates sane from not
Inches over the line
That keeps you safe
Oh yes
Nothing's turning out the way I planned
Oh yes
The dreams that broke all manifest
Complete control is what I lust
Inches over the line
That was drawn to keep you safe
Inches over the line
That was drawn to keep it in
Nothing can stop me now
I doubt you'd want to anyway
Nothing can stop me now
And that's just the way you like it
Nothing can stop me now
I doubt you'd want to anyway
Nothing can stop me now
And that's just the way I like it
Categories:
ninth, angst, me, me,
Form:
Lyric
November Ninth the President
By Franklin Price
11/9/2016
November ninth the president elect is thought to be:
Donald Trump with outside chance will get the victory.
It's nip and tuck and hardly fought; the vote count is not done.
There are states that are so close still hard to tell who won
Democrats have gone home, the hour's Two A.M.,
Will be no concession speech tonight from Hillary to him.
The newsmen on the TV are trying to look good;
Saying that they knew it, it has happened as it should
They make me sick the way they act. They've blocked him every way.
Now it looks as if he's won, they'll kiss his ass today.
I hope it doesn't turn around; have a foul called in the race.
We the People now have spoken; establishment we're in your face.
He may not be the smoothest, a politician he is not,
We all must get behind him to see what he has got.
We've heard all that he's promised, now he will get his chance.
We'll see if he's got two left feet, or if he can dance the dance
Don't know if that will happen, still not saying he's the best,
Only that he's won the fight and outlasted all the rest.
The hour is two forty, and we just got the pump
Hillary has conceded with a phone call to the Trump
The struggle's finally over now the good work can begin
Donald Trump's acceptance speech, said we'll make us great again
We'll fix America together, cooperation is the word
America will be great again; at least that's what I heard.
Categories:
ninth, political,
Form:
Couplet
Greedy vine spirals smother monoliths
Spider fern moss, fairy forest vertical
Soaks in secrets, promise admonished
Water trawled crevice, creek cervical
Church canopy arch angel honours
Wing finger cool fires praise prancing
Laser selects sections, bark polished
Licked by flitting demure madonnas
Eight afore taped to trees keen tropical
Each fresh capes the chapel innocent
Suckers strung hearts hung over tendrils
Hundred year hardness rots, wet spent
Mighty trunk rips open room charcoal
Doorway discloses disaster clandestine
Bluebeard’s bride wives winding sparkle
Shon hopeful on nymph number nine
3rd of July
Daintree Dancing
Categories:
ninth, allusion, bridal shower, fairy,
Form:
Rhyme