Best Noon Poems
The darkness at noon - We’ve been led
to walk with a blossoming dread
through streets, as if we have no will,
and all the world is strangely still.
We walk - no word among us said.
We all had seen the sky grow red
before our sun, which warmed us, fled!
It only stayed with us until
the darkness at noon.
Our lungs can breathe. We have not bled,
but we are now the living dead,
for all around us grows a chill
upon the earth. Gone is the thrill
of light and life! We see instead
the darkness at noon!
For the 101 in a ROW contest -6 of PD, Linda!!!
evaporating
mercury
it's past my daytime
MagiCicada13
When crimsons are worn and winters mourn;
When time is not a clock, watch or real
And sunsets have lost their appeal -
Then I shall face my doom,
But wake me not before noon.
When you can stretch out your hand
And come with me to a nowhere land,
I will put violets in your hair.
When you can sigh with no despair,
Then I shall believe you rare.
When I stand alone and you go away
Do not dare come ask me to play.
When tomorrow is not neglected, and
finally arrives and someday is a day called now,
then you shall see relief in mine eyes.
When all words care and mountains rise higher,
When trees can breathe and apples are truly red,
Then I shall stop yelling above your head.
When flowers fail to bloom and seven years does
not mean locust, maybe then life shall focus.
When I can find my very own star
Without the need of looking far,
When I lose my urge to splurge and neglect
My search for a still burning torch,
What then .... if when?
To many numbers on the clock.
Bug eyed over my watch.
Counting every second as life goes by.
One million tear drops fall from the sky.
Can't close my eyes even if you sing me a nursery rhyme.
Can't stop the clicking of the time.
Like a nurse, a curse I hold my own pulse.
For one second my heart froze.
Kingdom come heavens done.
Out numbered by everyone.
A fatal stream for Lin~Ra the queen.
Rebellious I proceed in the hourglass of my dream.
the still black eyed hare
rests under icicle eaves~
birds eat bearberries
12-15-2019
Writing Challenge, December - Winter Haiku or Senryu
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobe Ode
Early winter crept away
from late autumn's last rains,
but held onto a dull new hurt
that sharpened as I awoke.
The strange caress of winter's sun
warmed me only a while
when I knowingly courted it
and accepted that it would pass.
The winter is brief,
and as solstice comes and goes,
it holds only a hint of malice,
yet I am thankful when it is done.
Mid-winter's cool breeze,
soft, imperceptible,
will give way to late winter's winds,
strident, dusty and dry.
After one more season is survived,
I'll crawl steadily closer
to the truest of truths
that I may never know.
1st August 2018
The Darkness at Noon
Taps - echo hollowly
over the grey stones,
acrid odor of gunpowder
stings all memory,
flag, creased, folded,
presented.
A last salute.
A darkness at noon.
John G. Lawless
4/22/2014
In the fragrant noonday heat,
Sunshine poured on meadowsweet,
And rivers and lakes sparkled,
All while rose finches warbled,
From azure sky and green trees,
And sunshine burnished cities,
In the fragrant noonday heat.
Written on July 5, 2021
For: Elemental Poetry Contest
Sponsor: charles messina
In order to avoid the sun
I sat in the shade of a tree
licking my ice cream,
I thought it was a great dream,
Yet what I saw was the life itself
melting away off my ice cream
lazy noon---
the coos of a dove
are nicely spaced
====================================================
Placement:2nd ;(Nov. 2012)
Contest:Another Poem
Sponsor:Susan Burch
By:kash poet
====================================================
She's on her way going back to a room.
From a long journey since morn.
She went to church and prayed harder.
Then she baught a gift for a daughter's birthday.
It's been five months now since an angel lost her wings.
In an illness that a young body can't conquer.
Nights and days, weeks and months...
She fights the light to remain on sight.
Too many times that her heartbeats get weak.
Life support is the only thing that's left.
To suspend the day of a coming death,
And fade the little hope they all seek.
Moving so fast she saw the open door,
Doctors and nurses are reviving a soul.
Breathless and fainted little one,
Is now waving a hand of good-bye.
Tears fell like a river from her eyes.
The entire room gets darker as she arrived.
The clouds turned gray that afternoon.
The heaven cries for a lost of angel's soul.
written : 4/21/2014
entry for: Dr. Ram Mehta's Darkness at Noon Poetry Contest
*1st Place Winner
dreadnaughts split the sky
whorl motions of atmospheres
merse the wicked sun
A Tribute To Frank L. Stanton's - Lazy Chap
Rising Early From My Bed, Close To Noon
I lay about and often just wonder why
others do not rest in the by and by
Any lazy day finds me right in tune
This lazy day sings this month of June
Rising early from my bed, close to noon
stagger into the kitchen none too soon
Eat a full plate of eggs and fried bacon
so true, I am a lazy man never fakin'
Afternoon resting under my favorite tree
I never bother work, work never bothers me
About supper time I wander back inside
if I am late to eat, wife will tan my hide
The meal finished, I turn on big screen set
easy day flowed so well but not done yet
A few beers the wife faithfully brings me
sets my sails and fills my soul with glee
Late night news tells me its time for bed
to lay me down and rest this weary head
Another day will come about ever so soon
I best be ready for that early rise at noon!
Robert J. Lindley, 02 09-2015
note: Frank L. Stanton my favorite poet, a simple man that wrote
beautiful and simple poetry. I have now started to write a few tributes
to his great poetry. My friend Peter Duggan's poem inspired me to
pay homage to my favorite poet before I pass on. Thank you Peter!
The day becomes night;
As a comrade transcend
To true world beyound.
Oh! Finally, a jolly good fellow drops the baton;
A justice of peace with unstained character,
A sacrificial giver who neglected his needs.
Death, you never cease to amase
As you drive home valiant colleagues.
Death! Hope you know?
Here a while we must be parted
Because
For a while the tired body
Erupt in sleep.
Soul and body reunited.
Thence; death, nothing shall divide
Father, mother, child and brethren.
Nevertheless, the dead, you were great while alive
And great in death.
The pens, sleep till we meet and part no more.
WRITTEN BY EDORE PAUL OYAKHILOME
0092348081195600, 0092348131176767
DEDICATED TO JOURNALISTS .
Mostly, she had the heebie jeebies, peaking at early risers
Outside, morning was muted with its first faint flush
Right before bristled being, allure of dawn shook her
Noah's voice and patriarchs of old floated by
Imagine those coils; Delilah had come to nip
Night looked on, swelled with pride remorse would rise
God of heaven and earth knew Minerva could be healed.
Nothing moves miraculously as the Almighty
Once she could hear her own obsequy; such living dead
Out on paths of ruin, Minerva ran and ran
Noon's scorcher, and blizzard, and torrents knew she'd show.
Night was of rain and song; of mind cruise to Caribbean hometown
Ideally, one sky light, alone time, and quietude was craved
God of her mother spoke nothing into something
Head lights once broken, beamed, then glowed
That spring; the new millennium sprung fresh light, water, air, and fire.
*