Best Observes Poems


Premium Member Pathos

Nobody observes her leaving her room
wearing just her nightdress and red felt carpet slippers
Shuffling silently she slips out of the front door onto the street
Rivulets of rain start to soak her to the skin
Her straggly hair hangs down limply
It becomes so matted and twisted 
Soon it looks like writhing snakes are alive on her skull
Her once pretty face is now lined and wrinkled
Rain drips off the crevices and onto her sagging breasts

Wandering off into the night she begins searching
Walking the empty streets with her arms outstretched 
Searching, searching, desperately searching
Eventually she reaches the children’s playground
Sitting on a swing she rocks backwards and forwards
The rhythmic movement seems to calm her down
Tears form in her eyes and mingle with the raindrops
Strong arms hold her and she is powerless to resist
She hears voices telling her she must return home
‘We knew you’d eventually find your way here Maisie 
It’s time to return to the sanatorium …
In future we will make sure the door alarm is activated’


10~19~15
N/A in previous contest
Submitted to screwed XI
Sponsored by Rob Carmack
Sponsor Nathan D
Title amended and submitted to ''P'' Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest sponsored by Constance La France

Premium Member Recollections of a Condemned Man - Collaboration With Robert Lindley

178 months, 129940 hours,
now only 10 minutes remain.
Sitting in cold eerie darkness,
he observes the rhythm of water drops,
slowly wipes away streams of sweat
with his withered trembling hands.

That aching fear, gnawing in his fevered brain,
spasms of fear demanding flight
yet none to be had,
his inner soul asking why he had lost his way
why had his sad life come to this?
What lay in the caverns of darkness ahead!

Wardens pace up and down like wolves,
stopping to stare with compassion less eyes - smirking.
Waiting for the clock to chimes 12 times,
and to shout, 'dead man walking.'
He sits savoring every last breath,
rapidly repenting for all his past mistakes,
deep inside he knows its too late for regrets.
All his apologies fall upon deaf ears.

Flashes past seen, his crimes, girls and drugs, what a blast!
Pretty girls, each taking a slice, of his hoarded treasures
and he indulging in theirs with total abandonment.
O' glorious were those dead and ancient days!
Then reality came back to bite and bite hard,
saying, " such foolishness was a dream and soon comes Death"!
Too hard to bear such truth, he rushes back into fleeting dreams.

Suddenly cold, very cold he feels the deafening bleakness!
Sees the finality in the concrete and iron bars holding him.
Cries silently, what he wouldn't give for another day,
another dawn out in sunshine and fresh air!
Then reality and Fate both spoke to him saying,
" Tho' you a doomed man, meet thy death as a brave one."

Each heart beat beats with each ticking second.
He clutches his worn bible, readying himself for what lies ahead,
anxiously contemplating if he is worthy of redemption.
Rocking back and forth, unable to control floods of tears,
his thoughts are disturbed with a truncheon rattling his cell's bars,
and the dreaded final summoning of his name.

Wolves smile with sly eyes, as the stench of death fills the air.
Fellow inmates turn their faces to the ground.
He savours every step, he knows they are his last.
God is no longer the master of his condemned fate.
He knows he can't erase the crimes of his past,
but takes solace, feeling his crimes were not premeditated,
but now he must face the hypocrisy of his own premature death.

Silent One collaboration with Robert Lindley
17 December 2017
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

A Love Story

The girl is an ultra-modern scholar, 
Belongs with an upper-middle class family. 
Looking very nice, smart, gets angry suddenly. 
She reads M.A in English at Presidency University. 
She is assimilating to the ideas of Shakespeare, 
Shelley, Keats, Neruda, Byron...
Fluently speaks English, loves cricket. 
Shoulders are shaken by expression.
She cries alone, laughs with everyone....

The girl is very good.

The boy is a post-modern educated son of a lower-middle class family.
He studies M.A in Bengali at Calcutta University.
He is assimilating to the routes of Vaishnab literature,
Ideas of Bharatchandra, Rabindranath Tagore, Nazrul, Jibanananda...
Writes poems, sings song, loves football.
He walks on the high-street and observes people.
He laughs alone, listens to everyone...

The boy is very good.


They are attracted by the opposite personality!
The  girl wants that her lover will be a modern man.
The boy thinks that his lover will become as the mind of his. 
 
They are changing silently
Losing individuality.

Time flows.
Love goes to another address...


Premium Member Robin and Marian

North of Nottingham, there lies a wood

Clothed with fern in Dartmouth green

A barefoot Beauty, There she stood

The likes of which, the worlds not seen



A man observes, but undetected

Concealed up in The Major Oak

She drops her hood, quiet unexpected

Gently slipping off her cloak  



This man, a thief, price on his head

Cannot resist his captive heart

In great danger, he gladly sheds

The massive tree's concealing art



You might conceive, this shocked the maiden

Confronted by a rogue so bold

But his eyes were so love laden 

She touched his hand, he touched her soul



He leads her to his camp in secret

On the ground lie jewels and gold

But his eyes could never leave her

The greatest prize he ever stole

Premium Member Elizabeth Ii

See there! She flies about the moor
Upon her favoured mount.
The waving, flowing grassy shore
bears hoofprints all about.
The waves her steed surmounts.
Her hair is flying here and there;
She hasn't thought of care.

Her little sister, Margaret Rose
Thro' panelled glass observes
As Lilibet, the rider, goes
At breakneck turns and curves.
The joy of youth deserves
A few such wild or reckless ways
Some pleasures in its days.

Her pony soon is waxing faint
(To him we lay no blame!)
She leads him to the arbour gate,
Now finished with her game.
Her sister calls her name.
A liv'ried lad bears horse away;
She runs to hear her sister say:

"Since Uncle had to abdicate,
Now Father rules the land.
Does that not mean it is your fate
As next in line to stand
As queen o'er British sand?"
"Yes, someday that may happen too."
Then Rose said this: "Poor you."

But Lilibet thought not that way,
She strengthened for the task;
Made ready for the coming day
And all that it would ask.
(It sure would be a tax
Becoming an authority,
Yet bound by law's decree.)

From duty's call she would not shrink;
The challenge she'd embrace.
Her high morale she'd not let sink,
But obstacles would face;
And God would give the grace
To yet be brave when dangers be,
And reign with equity.



{Lilibet was Elizabeth's nickname as a child among the Royal Family}

Muffins Doritos and Cheetos, Oh My - a Bulimics Tale

Muffins, Doritos and Cheetos, Oh My! (A Bulimic’s Tale)

There is a hole in her core she must sate.
So, she drives to the grocery store before it’s too late.

She steers the cart in search of junk food.
She spots a case of cupcakes that can ease her mood. 

Powdered donuts on a shelf she can reach.
Next, she chooses Bottled sodas, she packs up five each.

Muffins, Doritos, Cheetos, Funyuns and Snickers she will par-take.
She must not forget about the Little Debbie snack cakes.

Once the cashier starts scanning her vittles,
She starts to feel a tingly rush form in her middle.

She pays her fee then rushes to her vehicle parked afar
Then unloads the groceries on the passenger seat of the car.

As she sits behind her steering wheel. 
She appraises her edible saviors, then makes her appeal

She starts with the Snickers shoving them down her throat,
The empty void inside her fills as she lets out a choke.

The Funyuns and muffins are next on her seat.
She devours them in seconds, puffing up her cheeks.

Doritos, Cheetos and snack cakes are inhaled like oxygen,
She is slightly starting to feel whole again.

The cupcakes are the last morsels of her stock
She washes them down with the soda she bought.

When the food is gone she observes the food wrappers in her space.
She glances in the rear view mirror but fails to recognize her face.

Powdered sugar and Cheeto dust crusting around her lips,
A sob escapes her chest as sanity begins to slip.

There is one more mission she must forgo
Opening her car door, she shoves a finger down her throat.

Vomit is released from her belly’s lair.
Stomach acid and bile sting the night air.

She appraises the regurgitation splattered on the concrete.
Then senses the empty void is gone, her task is complete.


Premium Member Master's Art

birds rising on the breeze
hue of blue in mountain lake
borrowed from the sky

time tables ignored
mountains rise at their own pace
only God observes

tranquil and serene
undisturbed by man’s progress
nature’s oasis

A Night Ride

One dark night takes me on a ride to an isolated hill where I inhale unpleasantness ..
Wide gleamy monstrous gate opens as the mighty wind blows,
creepy ferns crawl all over the floor.
Eerie garden awaits the lost lover's presence;
There stands a haunted home with a grubby porch at the entrance.
The magnanimous door welcomes me unwaveringly;
To the right there's slaughter hall polished with blood stains.
On the wall, hung portrait of a lady wearing a long red gown with a silver hat and a golden rosette stapled; 
Beside protruded, a yearning window decorated by cob webs;
To the left led staircase ,as I step on railing, it crackles like hatching eggs; Carefully I manage to reach the first floor and confronted a quiet room occupied by constant whispers & spine-chilling whimpers...I slowly move inside and envision nothing strange,but I feel something moist dripping on my cheeks from the roof above.
When I look up, the entire strong ceiling collapses,
disembodied spirit arises,floating on air,observes the decaying house from a distance.

14-7-2020

~Deepa. V~

First place in the contest:-)
Note: Decaying house Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by A Dear Heart(Constance)
© V. Deepa  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Moonlit Snow

Moonlit Snow

So swiftly snow cascaded wide and deep;
Now pristine blankets of white wonder gleam.
Only the moon observes while earth's asleep
With snowfall magic and its peaceful dream. 


Sandra M. Haight

~3rd Place~
Contest: Best Short Acrostic Poems
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Judged: 01/08/2016
======================
~1st Place~
Contest: Wind Snow or Rain Acrostrain
Sponsor: Jan Allison
Theme: Snow
Judged: 12/08/2015

Omnipresent

“Omnipresent”



Omnipresent hue
the shimmering observes you

from its sky of blue
seats the watching I

synchronicity arrives in silence
shot through a gold marble

electric slips the dream
burning lazy idols

synchronicity arrives in silence
omnipresent 

unisex in
flared genes

persuasively calm
benevolently 

Ultraviolet


(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)




Hemisphere Mother (Moby-Strata)/ XavieRinato
https://youtu.be/Vm3T_ernNwk

Premium Member Fractals of Freedom: Virtues in a Void

Absurdity, chaos, 
strife:
The poet chooses 
virtuous reality.

Sisyphus, a 
titanic wave of metamorphosis, waiting, salted nausea:
The thinker roughed by sand 
a solitary tree in a barren desert 
defies absurdity

by seeking meaning in the absurd.

Authenticity, 
vision, conformity, religion:
The rebel a roaring 
wildfire igniting change like:
     authenticity, 
     vision, and non-conformity
forging their own path.

Project, 
reflect, individuality:
The human river
tasting the minerals of experience
expresses identity 
and discovers themselves.

Leap,
Übermensch,
ethics,
logotherapy:
The agent 
acts with freedom and responsibility
finding purpose.

Meaning, 
joy, void, hope:
The sweet-smelling optimist a sunflower 
fills emptiness with hope
seeking light in the darkness.

Truth, 
illusion, reality, fiction:
The rationalist 
discerns the real and the imagined.

Contradiction, 
logic, emotion:
The harmonist 
strives for balancing 
the rational and emotional.

Freedom, 
authenticity, manipulation, conformity:
The individualist 
resists pressure and influence.

Awareness, 
paradox, courage, hope:
The existentialist 
embraces the absurd and transcends.

Leak,
speak,
strike,
kneel:
The activist challenges-
The status quo and injustice.
Tirelessly fights for justice!

Death, 
suicide, violence, genocide:
The mortal 
faces limit and horror with courage.

Despair, 
nightmare:
The lover 
shares and cares with love.

Existence
precedes essence?
Or essence 
precedes existence?
The question 
haunts forever.

The Stoic 
Observes, unmoved yet aware:
Virtue alone suffices 
whether essence or existence;
In reason and nature 
we find our constant companion.

Premium Member An Ode to Hunting Dogs

The rolling, hollow, baying sounds cascading from the fen,
'cause there's a bobcat up a tree and the dogs are loose again.
The cat suddenly settles, and the hunting pack goes quiet.
A man whistles to call them, but these rowdy dogs won't buy it.

Like men in a private club, they quietly wait by the tree.
The cat observes his options, wondering how he will get free.
A twig snaps, there's movement. and the dogs return to full bay.
The cat jumps down into the marsh, and finally gets away.

My Baby Is Shy

It pains me to know that my baby is shy
Afraid to speak up, she lets her tears dry
I’ve been that little girl, mild and meek
Offended, abused, but dare not speak

I grew up ashamed, to be anything less
Or anything more than just like the rest
I hoped to be good, but feared being great
The resentment of shame, has filled me with hate

But Molly is different, her resilience, better
Agile, not fragile.  She’s brilliantly clever
She observes the world in a rational manner
An optimistic spirit.  Her horizons are grander

To find that, she too, houses demons within
The kind that tell lies, portraying a friend
“Don’t let them see, you’re vulnerable side
If you’re feeling too human, your thoughts, you must hide.”

It tugs at my heart, and scratches my soul
I resent those very demons and the joy they have stole 
I wasn’t enough.  My pain couldn’t suffice
But these brilliant bastards will hurt me twice

Premium Member Recollections of a condemned man


178 months, 129940 hours,
now only 10 minutes remain.
Sitting in cold eerie darkness,
he observes the rhythm of water drops, 
slowly wipes away streams of sweat
with his withered trembling hands.

That aching fear, gnawing in his fevered brain,
spasms of fear demanding flight
yet none to be had,
his inner soul asking why he had lost his way
why had his sad life come to this?
What lay in the caverns of darkness ahead!

Wardens pace up and down like wolves,
stopping to stare with compassion less eyes - smirking.
Waiting for the clock to chimes 12 times,
and to shout, 

'dead man walking.'

He sits savouring every last breath,
rapidly repenting for all his past mistakes,
deep inside he knows its too late for regrets.
All his apologies fall upon deaf ears.

Flashes past seen, his crimes, girls and drugs, what a blast!
Pretty girls, each taking a slice, of his hoarded treasures
and he indulging in theirs with total abandonment.
O' glorious were those dead and ancient days!
Then reality came back to bite and bite hard,
saying, " such foolishness was a dream and soon comes Death"!
Too hard to bear such truth, he rushes back into fleeting dreams.

Suddenly cold, very cold he feels the deafening bleakness!
Sees the finality in the concrete and iron bars holding him.
Cries silently, what he wouldn't give for another day,
another dawn out in sunshine and fresh air!

Then reality and Fate both spoke to him saying;

" Tho' you a doomed man, meet thy death as a brave one."

Each heart beat beats with each ticking second.
He clutches his worn bible, readying himself for what lies ahead,
anxiously contemplating if he is worthy of redemption.
Rocking back and forth, 
unable to control floods of tears,
his thoughts are disturbed with a truncheon rattling his cell's bars,
and the dreaded final summoning of his name.

Wolves smile with sly eyes, 
as the stench of death fills the air.
Fellow inmates turn their faces to the ground.

He savours every step, he knows they are his last.

God is no longer the master of his condemned fate.
He knows he can't erase the crimes of his past,
but takes solace, 
feeling his crimes were not premeditated,
but now he must face the hypocrisy 
of his own premature death.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Cold Hearts Beating

Goddess breasts
And King rage
Stood atop high mountain
Within fog-haze heaven fountain
Proclaimed animosity
Seduction she destruction he
Planned in intricate intimate detail
Spanned thoughts depths good to evil
Delve deeper death
Devolve life or rotting unto another
Devoid they’ll stumble crumble
Rubble stubble see the wonderful
Beautiful ending chaos of love

Passionate embracing commences
****** finalizing hatred
Defenses halt all faltering attraction
Poison words become self-preserving reaction
Pitiful pitiless human race
Crass species welcoming defeat
Relieve relent life strife
This wife is now beaten bloody
Barren dragon satan devil spawn
Celestial snow painted blood-red
We are dead

Time reduces marvelously
Flesh erodes bloated bones
Appear traveler near observes
Immortals on high crying softly
Falling Olympus’ shroud tainted dyed
Maroon amber streams
Skeleton’s romance remains
Defames other’s vows
Promised hours till reaper doth part
Wedding bands golden
These eyes have beholden
Affection surpassing eternal sleep
Redemption veiled with mystery.

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