Best Nominations Poems
Captain Kirk, an adventurous guy,
flew through galaxies beyond earth’s sky
on an old sci-fi show
which was canceled although
crazy fans would not let Star Trek die!
First for having the Captain Kirk name,
William Shatner achieved certain fame.
Illusions can shatter;
though older and fatter,
Shatner still is a STAR all the same!
* William Shatner earned both a Golden Globe and an Emmy for his quirky
role as Denny Crane and Emmy nominations until the end of the series
Boston Legal. Also he appears on numerous comedy and tv shows, does
cameos, interviews, conventions, commercials, twitter, and book writings
and has a star on both the Hollywood and the Canadian Walk of Fame.
By Andrea Dietrich for Skat's Poetry Contest with Star Trek Theme.
Star Trek Rules!
Ladies and gentleman
Welcome to the 2014 Academy awards for poets
Your hosts this year, are
Tom Hanks, Lord Byron, Lady gaga, Popeye and Edgar Allen Poe
With no further adieu, we shall proceed
This years nominations, for best Poet of the year
Arthur Vaso
And the winner is!!!! Arthur Vaso
Applause and standing ovations (to be repeated)
This years nominations for best Dramatic Poet!!
Arthur Vaso
And the winner is!!!! Arthur Vaso
This years nominations for best comedic Poet
Arthur Vaso
And the winner is!!!! Arthur vaso
This years nominations for best artistic Poet
Arthur Vaso
And the winner is!!!! Arthur Vaso
This years nominations for best Poem made into a movie
Arthur Vaso
And the winner is!!!! Arthur Vaso
This years nominations for best Poem made into a TV Series
Arthur Vaso
And the winner is!!!! Arthur Vaso
This years nominations for best supporting Poet
Arthur Vaso
And the winner is!!!! Arthur Vaso
Wake up, wake up, wake up,
Oh hi there honey, I must have fallen asleep
I was dreaming
I gathered so, you were smiling ear to ear in your sleep
What pray tell where you dreamimg of?
Oh I was dreaming of you my dear!
David the First
In an old photo
I’m being bathed by a boy
looking quite bashful. . .
the first young man to hold me -
my mother’s only brother.
David Bunker
My first love note came
from junior high’s smartest guy -
shy freckled David,
future doctor of acclaim.
For one month I had his heart.
David Williams
Our poet at Soup -
like the one of Bible times
whose psalms soothed a king -
touches us with modern verse
and blesses us with friendship.
(As I went to enter the contest, I noticed I was supposed
to write of only one famous David. Well, I don't know the famous
ones like i know these three. In a way, my middle one is famous.
I just googled him and saw he was on the short list of nominations
for a prestigioius award naming most honorary of all students who
ever graduated from my high school! and of course, our own
David Williams is famous at SOUP!!)
The Octomom
OR - What I Learned On The Web today
The Octomom now is giving out thanks
For a film that she made without even spanks
Award nominations now number four
For a film where she showed off a bit then some more
It’s a **** film the mother of 14 released
And her public exposure has once more increased
The mother’s a lost cause as we all have seen
My worries are all on the other fourteen
The team of Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein displayed prowess.
It seemed everything they produced would be a success.
There was triumph for some Broadway shows nobody could deny.
They included “Oklahoma”, “State Fair”, and “The King and I”.
Two more melodious plays that were absolutely terrific
were the widely-heralded musicals “Carousel” and “South Pacific”.
Along came an attempt based on John Steinbeck’s novel “Sweet Thursday”.
The plot was set in the California town of Monterey.
“Pipe Dream” opened on Broadway in 1955.
Many also expected this production to thrive.
Despite receiving nine Tony Award nominations,
for this musical, the critics had some reservations.
Problems resulted, and the show was a financial flop.
After only about seven months, they decided to close up shop.
However, some renewed interest has evolved into a revival.
It looks as if this show may yet experience survival.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.
Robert Pettit
Historical
It's funny how one might look down upon disability
And not regard it as an integral part of the society
Only for then to realize that in us still lies the ability
To cast a vote, and take part in changing the society
Cause a vote once casted takes its own cause
And a vote doesn't have a disability
So it counts and when it's cast it sets out a course
In the many numbers that would want accountability
Many times for the sake of image in politics
Disabled might get the limelight
And show people how they care about us in their tricks
To get votes but still our plight won't be given the light
We've seen how for just being differently abled
One is not seen as a worthy candidate
Instead told to wait it out, cause we labeled
Labeled as people who get in through nominations to date
Yet we can stand and chant out our slogans
And come up with better policies for us
But the same hierarchy of government organs
That claim to support our status, are still not working for us
And to date, we still facing discrimination
But we still keep voting for change
Voting in a better government for the good of the nation
So that one day, we as the persons with disability feel the change
The PO£T
(Edited; I had left out a line)
Smokin’ Joe Bonamassa
What’s in a name? Well, I think a last name
like Bonamassa sure sounds really cool.
This guy I’d never heard of has some fame!
He learned to play by 4, and not in school,
and then by twelve, the kid was opening
for a concert! Can you imagine that?
To open for a great like B. B King!
So young was he to be such a cool cat!
With 15 albums, pride he must have had
to get three Grammy nominations. Wow!
To sing with Clapton made him very glad.
It was his dream! So what’s he up to now?
Recording with Beth Hart he’s had success
The British Blues sure taught him to impress!
May 15, 2023
For Robert James Liguori's 'Joe Bonamassa Inspiration 3' Poetry contest
She who walks in devastation of her own
confrontation, in relations to the upsets of
immoral motivation.
Clueless is she to the law of lifes nominations,
Complications in her search for the right
denominations.
Others denounce her will
Always trying to steal a deal,
Yet actions of her kind will oneday get her
killed.
Greed is the scene of ones own being,
Pressing the issue's of wanting and needing a certain
kind of bling.
Clink-Clink,
Sounds of a big steel door,
With shakles dragging to the floor,
So sore from leaving the bricks for the upcoming
war.
The war is near no end.
She reflex back knowing she has no other friend
yet, not trying to bend,
Fighting a battle she can not win.
She's holding a lost key,
Trying to unlock the door of reflextion she knows as
She....
Tiffany Saxon
Verbal thoughts of LeftBrain polynomials
follow feelings not not RightBrain polyphonic
when both respect our interdependent polypaths,
Because harmonic feelings,
unlike thoughts of flight or fight,
are much more fleeting
effluently failing and fading away,
while midway winning and gaining toward
RightBrain autonomically faster than plodding LeftBrain calculations
nominations
labeling stagnations
enthymematically static staging stations.
Slower LeftBrain thoughts,
but in-between manically
and depressingly essential
for healing obsessive Win/Lose fighting words against non-verbal actions
and compulsive Lose to Win another day-fleeing absence
of effective Win/Win polypathic thoughts
and cooperatively communicating eco-political responses
Resolutions toward geo-empowering/disempowering climates
of internal/external polynomial healthy bilateral
Zero SoulZones
of EarthRights life,
not EgoWrong death,
chosen bicamerally Win/Win wealthy health
Where verbal LeftBrain thoughts and non-verbally hearted feelings polyphonic
follow RightBrain temporal healthy/pathological feelings
not yet polynomially balanced
and yet not not truly
and synergetically polypathic
integral
nutritional DNA's long-term healthy wealth
optimizing integrity's thought/feeling potential.
Falling skies a feathered thing The moth is Lost Blacklisting decembrist The hundred fogs of war Heroes stopping a man from exploding Leverage a job well done Eureka’s fauxiest best Walking dead talking to frogs Persons of interest premature death My most poetic series title nominations some words have been changed or rearranged you know copywriters issue
10 29 08
Senator Obama said it's time for a change
While Senator McCain lashes out about his age
Obama's cool-calm and collected
He never let's his opponent see him break a sweat
Athough McCain says that he's still a babe and not ripe enough yet
Obama has proven over and again that he way pass getting his feet wet
McCain is disturbed when his buttons are pushed out of whack
Obama shows no remorse toward his actions
When he brings up the issues at hand and what they lack
He wears well the intelligence, experience and education of his well thought out plan
Senator Obama believes in his heart of hearts that God is the true leader of our land
But no matter what McCain tries to reek havoc on
His feed back on issues are always so weak and bland
McCain has shown us what he’s made of when he agreed with President Bush, OH MAN!
He shows his emotions outwardly, he expresses himself in bodily ways
He’s a republican leader that went along with our present leader, by continuing having our
innocent troops fight in someone else’s war
How misguided and divided, how much more disappointment is in store
From the same nominee, the man that wants to introduce more taxes to the senate floor
Mr. Obama’s stripes while debating has never ever changed, and the majority of cities cast
their nominations on him, they bet
He’s cool as a cucumber he has never let McCain get to him at least not on T.V. yet
Mr. McCain is part of the old school rule that harps on wisdom before age
But did he and all the others ever contemplate on Dr. King’s dream,
the same vision that President Elect Barrack Hussein Obama envisions today
He’s not enraged, it’s not a radical issue or a self proclaimed fact
It’s about the best man for the job to run our country that’s failing
Because of the know how that all others lacked
Both of our candidates have different views about fixing all the mess in the
White House Wing
But free at last-free at last is what all of the heaters should sing.
It was approaching sunset
displayed boldly across red sky west
as I entered Dream Café,
Time for candle lit vespers and incense
which I feared would be more personal nightmare
than political dream.
I came to this Café,
for the first time,
because our Democratic Town Committee
was nominating candidates for Mayor
and City Council
and School Board
right after silent and sung vespers
here inside a DreamCafe
on BenFranklin's wisdom street.
I had been warned.
All those inside this Dream
each day at sunset
begin to smile with gratitude
and to pray
for multiculturing grace
to grow together.
This felt like a strangely inappropriate way
to fulfill Democratic trust commencements
so I was prepared to include my dismay
in my review
for next News delivery day.
Lights dimmed
along rose-hued
rough-cut walls
as candlelight began to come our way
through mists of frankincense in sway
and lavender,
orange and lemon oils
worked into handmade chairs
and cherry tables,
maple walls and oak-grained floor;
Incense burners on display
quieting louder sounds of fading AnthroPlay.
I had been warned
about this poly-creolizing array
to begin with a peace poem read
or sung
and, if a favorite of cooperatively gathered patrons,
then others might join in
sometimes swelling cadence
and harmonic rhythms
like I Have A Dream!
repeating what we've come to sacred share.
And so it was a well sung love song
for Earth,
of Earth,
and all Her EarthSoul Tribes
with and in harmonic sway.
Thanksgiving for sacred dawns
and dusks,
and all FirstForest creatures
and creations in-between,
And even nightmare absence of DreamCafes
for those still longing to belong
here,
where we are together planted,
here as now co-dreamers
of silent echoes
for just one solidarity moment
before reflecting voices
begin to stand
and sing fertile flowing anthems.
Voices speaking of love they heard
and felt this warm moist day
in Spring,
and who has come to mind
among WiseElders and Adolescents assembled
and nearby
here this dusky day
to rise above our sometimes polarizing fray.
And this
to my surprise
was how vespers invited nominations
for how best to continue ending our vespered day
for all who enter
this grace-filled DreamCafe,
and those nearby
eager to read all about it
come next NewDawn's greeting way.
A person can learn,
Through his eyes.
Through his ears,
Through his tongue.
A person can learn,
Through his knowledge,
Through his experience,
Through his dedications.
A person can learn,
Through his lies
Through his tries
Through his smiles.
A person can learn,
Through his discussion,
Through his appreciation,
Through his contribution.
A person can learn,
Through his willings,
Through his feelings
Through his healings.
A person can learn,
Through his divinations,
Through his relations,
Through natural creations.
A person can learn,
Through his divisions,
Through his multiplications,
Through adding subtract nominations.
A person can learn,
Through his behaviour,
Through his clavier,
Through his diver.
A person can learn
Through his essences,
Through his menses,
Through his hunches
A person can learn,
When he needs,
When he feeds,
When he teased.
A person can learn,
When he walks,
When he talks,
When he mocks
A person can learn,
When he faces,
When he races,
When he traces.
A person can learn,
When he tears,
When he fears,
When he cheers.
A person can learn
From up and downs,
From different crowns,
From different mourns.
A person can learn,
If he is willing to learn,
If he has jealous burn,
If he wants a turn.
She entered unannounced; no bell, no brass. The aperture, a bureaucratic lapse in Nature’s accounting, permitted transit for the curious, not the wise. Through corridors of warped conjecture, she drifted—unclaimed luggage of a thought experiment. Each particle bowed with procedural discipline; each law maintained protocol under duress.
The stars retracted their nominations, preferring anonymity to metaphor. Black holes enacted fiscal policy on mass—levying inertia, taxing spin. She met a moon citing Schopenhauer on surface gravity’s despair. The Queen of Vacuum—resigned—filed formal complaints against causality’s etiquette.
No refreshments were served. The Hatter’s discourse, though uninvited, continued: “Time is a misprint. Tea was never meant for relativists.”
Just as Alice prepared to file a motion against entropy’s indiscretions, a frequency—unreasonable yet familiar—pierced the vacuum. It had no spatial coordinates, no signature of mass, only a moral urgency disguised as a maternal summons. “Alice—Alice—school,” it said.
The voice, inertial and wan, did not beckon—it cross-examined her presence.
And just like that, the wormhole relinquished custody. Space, stripped of metaphor, unspooled around her as the stars began to forget their own biographies. She awoke amid textbooks and sky-colored sheets. Time resumed its typographical error.
cosmos without name—
even gravity forgets
how to hold its breath
Kelogb 10 (6-7-6)
You are the genuine ones
That make this seems to be fun
Till the last one be done
Let's say you are not there
Who would have got me cheered
Makes it meaty and clear
Either short or long tide
We turned each of all glide
With every write replied
Beautiful rains in heart
All promotes the love of art
To stress themes imparted
And learn more style to solve
Knowing what it all involve
Nominations revolve
Congratulations all
That are mentioned for its call
To take it up and ball
Am sorry for the pick
That appears to be a kick
Most come in awing clicks
I value all your likes
From all wonderful live tikes
All are good and cool strikes
Thanks! thanks! dear friendly fans
Trip along me as I span
Kelogb twenty days' plan
May your writes live for time
And reach for the world's top crime
For all to be sublime