Best No Poems


Premium Member No Reservation

You Are Not Invited

--Latching onto my soul without an invitation--
Elements around my shore expose more than air
--Playing with fire is not a game you will win--

----
Silently she swarms in like a leech, 
Feeding and sucking from the wounds my pain left behind.
She came inside: "Uninvited!"
Here have a drink, and die!
Taste the water drips that sail across my lips 
Plodding vigorously in the open air of her unwanted hostility
Forbidden as one, I noticed her aura a sickening light
Imprisonment that haunted smoke around her own imperfections
The hate and envy, she lives in resides airborne
The sound that she have summoned up hunger  
Brought me near the edge of everything
Feel my pain, a touch of impurities    
Tainted, infected, poisoned passion, her face disguised
Surrender toward serenity, the lighthearted woman I am inside 
She will never take, my full eternal grace
It’s time to reveal that blazing fire I hide
Drown her from the false flown sorrows of gust
Hold her hideous head under water--- burn her false fire out

Never will I turn my back and watch her muster them broken lids
Lungful of lies poisons the wind that flows from her snake like voice
Maneuvering the skies, scheming that snatch in
Like a viper twisting its unmatched curves, 
I strike, like a pyromaniac  --A burning match 
Allowing her to taste a part of the air I breathe 
A waste in the breeze her insecurities 
Trying to destroy what she can't be, what she can't see
At the end, blustery weather will remind her of the sea inside me,

YOU! The Angel, who crawls around like a shadow
Gorging its way into the heart with a charm of greed
Twisting reality hoping nobody sees its true sick identity
Slandering my name as the master of evil and manipulative
Marking my territory, warning others of a cold draft
Grasping the beauty that glows from my soul 
There it stood on the ledge UNINVITED
The devil walked and took my shoes 

:)

Premium Member No Such Thing As Forever

We all arrive alone naked and vulnerable,
crying our eyes out, not knowing -
this is the first day of the rest of our life.
I guess the saddest thing in life is we have to grow up.

As children we live in a bubble,
gazing at lost stars - wondering which one is ours.
Not realising the impact of our childhood,
until we are adults and it is too late.

We jump in puddles, laughing at splashing sounds,
some even learn to place their coats over them.
Some swim within shark infested waters,
but only a few learn how to build bridges over them.

I have embraced the power of silence,
but some have succumb to it.
I guess it is all about the quality of it,
especially for those who struggle to listen. 

There has been many a rose that has bloomed,
but every single one crumbled into dust.
Even the one whose thorns pierced lacerations
through hearts of stone - yet the heart healed.

Many birds arrived echoing sweet symphonies,
yet there have been those that flew away in silence.
Especially the silent nightingale who sat in solitude,
whose lyrics my heart still yearns to feel.

I've seen many a ship arrive at my shore,
but each one unloaded and sailed away.
It was me who removed their anchor
and smiled as they sailed into the distance.

As tumours poison our existence  - I ponder;
will the human race survive earth's demise?
When death arrives we all leave alone empty handed,
not knowing that was the last day of our life.

I recall Freddie Mercury's famous lyrics... 
Who wants to live forever....   Anyway.

Silent One
Simple Musings
19 June 2018
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Waterfall Wishes On Stars With No Swings

Waterfall wishes on stars with no swings
I’m sending to you on butterfly wings.
Pennies are wasted on a wishing well.
Pennies instead for sweet thoughts that you tell.

Oh, pennies from heaven as your heart sings
waterfall wishes on stars with no swings
and dandelion dreams you hope will come true.
I’ll click my red heels to bring them to you!

Over my rainbow, love can stay blind.
Better than Leprechaun’s gold, you will find
waterfall wishes on stars with no swings
and all of my love attached with no strings.

Close your eyes; take my hand; let yourself feel.
I’ll be your Wendy if you’ll make it real!
Fly me away to a dreamland that brings
waterfall wishes on stars with no swings.

Written Dec. 17, 2016
For Julie Leigh Rodeheaver "Whisper Sweet Nothings" Poetry Contest


Premium Member no poet am I -

a poet, you say? pardon no, not am I
there's only ONE poet - He writes on the
       sky
of sunsets and stars, of space without end
with a dazzling bright ink and ethereal pen

of rainbows and sun dogs, anvils and rains
mists from the moors, breeze-tickled plains
of haze-shrouded hills and cloud-crusted
       peaks
of sunrise horizons with blush on their
       cheeks

of green flash, auroras, of comets and
       moons
the fair constellations that rollick and swoon
of bright, stabbing bolts that pierce the
       dark skies
and spiraling storms with the sun in their
       eyes

   you see …

all that He authors is authentic and true
light years beyond what MY words can
       construe
but every-so-often, He blesses this fool
and imparts me the mercy to make me His
       tool

yes, I'd love to take credit, but I must keep
       in sight
I’m a pen out of many, with which He may
       write
so I may seem a bard with these verses I've
       spun
but regarding TRUE poets, there's really …
       just ...

   ONE.






~ 8th Place ~  in the "Poetry Marathon Mile 21" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~  in the "Your Best Poem In The Last Year" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Sponsor.

~ 3rd Place ~  in the "What Inspires You To Write Poetry" Poetry Contest, Julie Rodeheaver, Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~  in the "Any Poem That Got NA'd June - July 2017 Poetry Contest", Janice Canerdy, Sponsor.

~ 4th Place ~  in the "Creative Collective Anthology Series" Poetry Contest, Geraldine Taylor, Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Best Rhyming Poem 3 Poetry Contest", John Hamilton, Sponsor.

* Recently featured in "The Creative Collective Anthology Series 2", published by Geraldine Taylor, available for purchase. *

Premium Member No Thunder Without Lightning

Lightning rarely strikes without thunder,
causing havoc in gloomy skies.
Humans can't control their plunder,
seeking shelter until the storm dies.

Once, I was your prince - full of charm
and you my willing Cinderella.
Kept you safe from storms that could harm,
just like a human umbrella.

We danced from spring until the fall
and laughed so much, until you cried.
Now here I stand, trying to recall,
that exact moment the music died.

Those eyes of soft chocolate brown,
gleamed with your sweet tender smile.
Now all you seem to do is frown,
and even a glance seems like a trial.

Its been such a long time
since my kiss made those lips quiver,
and my hands didn't commit a crime,
but now my touch makes you shiver.

To unlock those sad songs in your mind,
I couldn't sing the correct lyrics.
Still the right words, I struggle to find
as I love you, doesn't raise your spirits.

As our love begins to rot,
regret plants seeds of discontent.
Yet my love remains, but yours does not,
as you lose yourself in malcontent.

How ironic as you walk away,
the radio plays our special song.
I don't have the strength to make you stay,
after all, it would only be wrong.

Your ghost will linger in the gust
with memories that wish to remain.
When bridges burn, ashes turn to dust,
its difficult to erase this pain.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

There Is No Telling the Things You Might Find

Picking a rose in a garden of Sundays
Calling your name on a broken branch wind
Looking for clover where weeds are not welcome
Walking the bridge till its time to begin
 
Dancing in puddles now filled up with laughter
Running through traffic as cars speed away
Searching for words in the headlines of morning
Writing of moons and the stars on display
 
Collecting my thoughts when I think I will never
Painting a smile on a rusted front door
Lifting a rock just to see what is under
Shopping for clothes in a grocery store
 
Looking through openings cut in the carpet
Reaching atop lonely sycamore trees
Juggling penguins, now where did that come from
Asking a bird what it knows about bees
 
Planting a bush in the depths of the ocean
Baking a cake in a rooftop design
Sweating the small when the big stuff does happen
Thinking of beer when I’d rather have wine
 
Wearing a frown in the moments I’m happy
Pushing a cart with a wobbly wheel
Lurking in shadows that form on the sunset
Dreaming of things that are hopefully real
 
Finding that all I have written is nonsense
All of the verses above will now show
When all I wanted to say was I love you
Like in these stanzas I’ve written below
 
Penning a poem to say what I’m feeling
Wishing the phrases will reach to your heart
Sending you hints of my steadfast devotion
Scribbling fonts that we never shall part
 
All that I am is now all that you make me
There is no one that this man could love more
You are the girl that I’ve wanted forever
Eternally you’ll be the one I adore
 
So there you have it, quite crazy but true
Poetic ramblings from deep in my mind
Where it is light with some dark in the corners
There is no telling the things you might find

11/03/19

The reason I think this poem is Trophy Worthy is it is one of my favorite poems, because it is me. A good amount of fun and nonsense and a lot of beautiful love which is what fuels my pen. I believe my cadence and rhymes are very good and it was a fun poem to write. I think those who read it really enjoyed it because it made them smile and that is usually my goal when writing poetry.


Premium Member No Anchor For Rancour

Upon those who yield to anger, I should take pity
because words they spit are like sandpaper, gritty.
A loathsome temper causes them to fume and fret,
sometimes churlish ones spew what they will regret.

Restraining venom is an idea some are unable to grok.
Fury is the key to a door they have no right to unlock,
for they seek revenge when it is not theirs to take.
Hissing like the demon who was disguised as a snake.

It's amazing to what lengths their bitterness will go.
Look into their eyes and you'll see their malice grow.
A hostile fire-breathing dragon is an ignorant beast
who will spend all its time eating outrage at a feast.

They wear the weight of vitriol like a boa of albatross
when it should be thrown away. In the sea given a toss.
A temper makes foolish ones lose all sense of reason.
They may even betray themselves in an act of treason.

Rancour can be an anchor that drowns them in the sea
if they cannot cut the chain that would set them free.
It's evil to prick as a sharp thorn in someone else's side.
Irascible people are those most nice folks cannot abide.

If they continue to blow on smoldering embers of a fire
they will be burned by the contentiousness of their ire.
They should douse all glowing cinders within their soul,
to loosen shackles of angst and keep anger under control.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Violin Notes Fall From Heaven No More

Her trembling twilight 
dims with streaking purple tears
bruised by youthful years of bleeding pain
hurting but never hugged—
locked in arms of atmosphere’s apathy
that smeared with fiendish fingers
a contusing plum palette
across any hope in her godforsaken horizon—

this sorrowful songbird 
who sings with the shattered purity 
of violin strains falling from Heaven
finds her bemoaning musical notes adrift—
lost on breezy deaf days
as she is once again thrown down 
from the self-serving skyscape 
by the hateful hands of wildcat winds.

In the deep inkwell
of lullaby-less lonely nights
where never a tender nursery rhyme
has ever set her free
are memories scribed of storm-battered days
and weighing heavily on Libra’s scales
are the injustices 
of dreams she will never live
nor flights of fancy she will never take
as her sire of solar scorch and temper flare
—a warpath warrior against her springtime
sleeps soundly on a bloated bed
over-stuffed with betrayal and broken promises
while her merciless maternal moon— 
distant and cloud covered
does not bother to wander the coal haze
with a lantern’s sharp beam 
to cut through stranglehold-folds of darkness 
to cast a light upon; to rescue her fractured form— 

an angel beckons as breath and beat fade
her guardian as she passes through Earth's shadow
beyond the coldness of mother-moon's umbra 
following to where warm sugar-stars soprano sing.

Tonight— a stricken sparrow 
folds her fledgling wings never to fly again…
will land or air ever miss her?

Premium Member No Limit To How Long We Grieve

when you let go of my hand
you let go of my heart

as I stumbled and crumbled
life seemed to have paused
silent screams
raged inside

but I was just numb

heart beating in slow motion
life became strange

and

i thought it would make sense 
when the pain subsided
but there is no limit
to how long we grieve

and they say
don't let them in
those crazy thoughts
but they echoed and echoed
until i lost my mind
and its worse
when alone 
haunted by
profound whispers

and

all I wanted
was an angel
to find me
to not give up on me

but nothing

and now
ive lost all faith
in humanity

and 

still im alone
but now drifitng
to a place
i don't want to be

yearning for oxygen

and

no one can catch me

because
when you let go of my hand
you let go of my heart

Simple Musings
Silent One
15 September 2017
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

There Are No Bounds To Where We Poets Go

Where on Earth or far beyond do we poets go, you ask. 
My thoughts willingly stretch my imagination with this task.
I would reply...in any direction our ink chooses to flow.
To the light of dawn or to dark telltale shadows of Poe
There are no boundaries that could rein in a poet's mind,
even if we have the mournful misfortune of going blind. 
        
A poet is not harnessed by sight like a horse to a carriage.
From memory our vision serves us in a sort of marriage,
a bond without rings and vows that gives us wings to fly
among stars, or to realms a common man cannot descry.
To know sin's sorrow, we would walk through a fiery hell
if it would give us the insight that living could not quell.

Inspiration is our weapon, feathered arrows we shoot,
aiming for the rhyming words and chasing in hot pursuit.
Though our muse flees, and crumbled pages lie at our feet,
our mind struggles in unrest but will not concede defeat.

On ventured missions, traveling where our hearts will lead.
Among distant galaxies, where we collect poetic seed
to plant in fertile delta land or in sandy deserts on Earth,
cultivating cogent lines, to which our scribing gives birth.
Fathering or mothering verses from infancy to fruition.
Editing until at last, our brainchild is worthy of submission.

We see far beyond mundane realities of life and reason.
Writing from the heart, rebuking the penalty of treason.
We wind through mazes of each personal poetic anecdote.
Exposed is our nakedness in each lyrical line we ever wrote.


June 20, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney.

Premium Member When I No Longer Love You

When dawn's blush of light eclipses the moon
And afternoons find meadows sprinkled with dew
When I view willows smiling instead of weeping
And the keeping of promises is no longer a prize
When artist's eyes see only hues of sepia and gray
And the Milky Way abandons its billions of stars

That is when I will say, "I no longer love you"
And my heart will perish in saddest adieu
                            ***

When my pen is lost, and my ink well runs dry
And the sky fills with clouds of yellow daffodils
When chills from the sun freezes over the seas
And bees create pollen and flowers make honey
When agony and love have been clearly defined
And my mind does not hold you in each thought

That is when my heart will no longer love you
And life will have no meaning in a world askew
                           ***

When songbirds stop singing in harmonic trills
And heathered hills have lost their sweet scent
When fermented grapes become a bitter wine
And the shine in my eyes dulls when I see you
When a view of sunset does not leave me awed
And God turns his face from a repentant sinner

That is when I will say I don't love you any more
And oceans waves of blue will no longer rush ashore
                          ***


2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 25 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney

July 25, 2017  ~ Romantic Contest Write
Sponsored by John Hamilton
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

No Sign of a Whine, a Smiling Mother

My heart I set on a dear companion
the cherished imprint on my soul, profound
how safe I felt in a tough kind bosom!
though I ceased to touch and see, tightly bound.

***
Sweet and pleasant, that huge effort and toil
no sign of a whine, a smiling mother
whims she would swallow, our feast wouldn't spoil
the feel of having her, like no other!

***
A glance at my eyes, she would read my heart
"ignore the pain, you have to dig your mine"
her persona, to me she would impart
how could I be without the whole of mine!

***
One tear of joy.. one other of woe
in time of grief, she had a bride to wed
her head bowing to what's to life a foe
I'm that one whose dad in wedding time dead.

***
No sign of a whine! her soul valiant
her words I retain, "I'm a woman of worth"!
how she longed for life! hers was transient
"recite me holy words.. I'm back to earth".

***
A companion when I recall, I learn
a woman, the world of books didn't know
of impressive drive, much she would discern
mother, the one I am, to you I owe.

If There Was No Poetry

I could not make sense
of the wonder
would stand 
bewildered and mute

I could not open
and let out
the feelings that well
from my depth

I could not speak truth
and would choke 
on the unsaid words
in my throat

Hahahahaha I Have No Idea What To Title This

help mrs. muse is gone and my mind is shooting blanks 
my friend called inspiration is trying to walk the plank 

motivation just married mr lazy 
and confidence started acting really crazy 

cousin common sense is on vacation out of town 
and aunt intelligence is nowhere to be found 

uncle rational is at the casino gambling his life away 
and my best friend happiness never wants to stay 

my neighbor opportunity doesnt knock on my door anymore 
and my girlfriend love is really just a whore 

my partner pride is always full of himself 
and sister sympathy is busy with someone else 

grandpa wisdom is smart enough not to say a word 
and grandma compassion is seen but never heard 

the only friends that ever come to town 
is anger and disgust and they always hang around 

my high school sweat heart infatuation doesnt really call 
and my childhood friend imagination doesnt exist at all

Premium Member No Words

Words I’ve never spoken
are those I’ll never write,
like words that might recall
the glow I felt one night. . . 
One choice lifetime’s fragment
I took for paradise. . . 
and for which memory
alone cannot suffice.

One summer’s whispered end. . .
your feel, your touch, your scent,
your lashes on my cheek,
the pure enrapturement. . .
your hands and hair like silk,
your pause to gaze on me
seem now more illusion
than past reality.

No words can bring to life
the fleeting ghost of you.
You haunt my empty hours;
there’s nothing I can do,
for if you think of me,
I guess I’ll never know.
And how you made me thrill
no words can ever show.

This one is just very meaningful  to me and it came from my heart. One of my favorite rhymes, so that is why I would want a trophy for it!

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