Best Off Poems
steel clouds once more freeze
bare trees comfort each other
ripped trunk holds it together
the sun shields its eyes
its flames dying in Winter
the core feels the biting chill
it is in my bones
deep set; can’t shake off the wolf
its gray-fur-stare is howling
my hands crisp and crack
tips and knuckles peel like bark
soulless rain drips down the oaks
my knees turn from lies
thinking themselves well in Spring
they limp like twigs before snap
cerise cheeks remind
the otherwise bleak weather
that seasons will change in time
sun will siphon miasma
I LOVE YOU EVEN IN FAR OFF PLACE
Fever of love cartwheel snaillike but where are you?
Round six o'clock noon, sunken is the moon gazing
behind deep orange-aubergine feather skies,
its shadowy light floods the shivering sea,
I, standing still amidst the tickling water,
my teary eyes softly wander upon endless horizon,
my hypothermic skin long for the kisses puffed by you.
Barefooted, I amble along the silky sands
seagulls fingers rushing to caress my feet but
droplets of August rain run fast above my head.
The crisp wind wafts whispering something in my ear
t'was the songs we sang second week of February
honeysuckle times gone but still my celcius sprint.
Softly, I tread back to memoirs playing a chemistry
where there catena of reactions descry revealing we...
Cleansed from river tears, blessed by suns of home,
my heart didn't surrender in wanting your presence soon.
Crossing limitless borders where our lamp is trust,
the choice to continue gleams in the name of freedom,
as we daily counteract two strategic villains:
the odd times and the eight thousand miles distance.
Yes, afar but this NOT THE BARRIER. Us baring our souls.
Us stepping onward, offering ourselves, to attain one goal.
I listened close to your voice as we talk by phone
My oh my, your tone, your giggle magnify my thoughts!
but this not enough 'cause I yearn to hold you most.
I want to ask: what is it that's not in my heart
that fate acted so long in keeping us apart?
Perhaps... Ah perhaps! This must be for us
to rightly spell the language of love...
The long distance vanguished, frozen fears diminished,
sapphire eyes cushioned by cherry color skin sings
as he stares whole from rosy chocolate coated cutis
to eyes touching tears, directly screaming: "I love you..."
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EPIC ---ONLY - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Name -- SKAT A
~7th Place~
Olive Eloisa Guillermo
10:59am, July 24, 2015
Reflection upon the man's generosity
You are blessed with holy words and pure good deeds
Those who are generous and those who never want to share
Everything can be used - over and over again
Get rid of something that has collected dust for a long time
It is spring's most beautiful adventure
Recycle of things that are redundant or unnecessary
Some live in wealth while others in poverty
We all have something to share
Something funny, something weird or something pretty
A gift that gives you the feeling of happiness
You can make a difference - spread joy to others in your daily life
02.06-2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
In the deepest of sad emotions
My mind as been turned off
Exiting off the highway of life
The turn off of all time
As I rot in Ward J
Insane and sublime
The bars on the windows speak
The bartender sneaks in a wee piss
My mind flies away in the wind
I wish to to to to tell you my small thoughts
Or comments
Yet here I am
Locked away in hell
The soup is cold
The orderlies so blind
How easily the words roll off my tongue
when decisions become too hard to make.
Even then, I only admit them to myself.
Sometimes I get confused, indecisive,
and hesitate in moments filled with doubt.
If only I had more confidence in myself
I would trust my voice not to stutter,
and maybe my heart wouldn't flutter
when you come so near to me.
Sometimes I turn and walk away
instead of smiling when I feel you there.
Sometimes I wonder
if there could ever be a you and me..
If only I could get past being so shy
Maybe, just once, I could look you in the eye
instead of lowering my head and walking by.
Maybe my life wouldn't seem so bleak.
If only I had the courage to stop in the hall
and find something to talk about.
Am I weak? Sometimes, I am.
If only, maybe, sometimes, and I'll add 'what if,'
I admit I use them as lame excuses.
my thoughts are profuse, and cluttered
with the 'what ifs' I only dream about.
I believe my alibis are lies,
but what if I remove the mask I wear
to hide the things I'd rather not see?
Maybe then I'd be more content with life.
If only my pounding heart remained silent
long enough to rid me of this fear.
Maybe I'd find the courage to be free
so you could see the real me.
If only...
August 4, 2020
Contest by Silent One
If only, maybe, sometimes
far off memories
like scattered dreams
lie dormant
waiting
to come to life
and haunt
hurt
cause negative emotions
good dreams
where are you hiding
those wonderful dreams
with grand emotions
are you layered
deep within
the recesses of those cogs
where the wheels have not turned
in a very long time?
In the past during many a generation,
a horse has been used for transportation.
Usually obedient animals not needing a goad,
they are quite strong, and can pull a heavy load.
Horseback riding is a past time many know.
On a country trail, it’s the way to go.
Sometimes, horses are animals with a mind of their own.
If they don’t like a rider, that person can be thrown.
Horses can be insubordinate and very fickle.
If you fall off a horse, it doesn’t tickle.
These creatures can be a very faithful friend.
However, they can cause injury that may be hard to mend.
When Dad passed I moved home with Mom,
We were roommates at first;
Shopping, lunching, gardening, it was fun,
There were some signs that began, slowly.
A small forgetfulness,
One day, Mom said I cannot write my name;
So, I did the banking,
Soon I was doing all the groceries.
The housework, the cooking, I did it all,
Mom needed full time care;
She was sick and stayed mostly in her bed,
I became the Mom, the daughter gone.
My own life put on hold,
I was her everything and this adult said;
When all hope was gone,
Oh turn off the life support please, please.
_______________________
April 21, 2015
Poetry/Verse/ Oh, Turn It Off
Copyright Protected, ID 04-665-861-21
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest Screwed III
sponsor, Rob Carmack, Judged
Seventh Place
______________________________________
Written for the contest, The True Meaning Of Being An Adult,
sponsor, FJ Thomas, HM, 05/2015
He had hands just like an octopus
Made me want to scream out loud and cus
I fixed him a deep stare
Made him very aware
Touch my boobies - I’ll make a huge fuss
15th November 2014
In starry silence and deepest sleep,
I hold vivid memories and a treasured secret
close to my heart of a long ago summer love.
Ours, was a season carved from the sun's caress,
from a sun that never set (even when the moon shone bright).
I cherished the time I held your hand, my handsome stranger.
Every waking moment was blissful and fantasies in darkness
sweetened my slumber. Our love was daring and true
but was a story never meant to be told, not even to
the icy winds blowing through my winter nights.
With you, I was lustrous in youthful glow, plucked
like a flower in morning dew, and still hungry for life
with an adventurous spirit. I called you, your warm words,
and the wild heart within them, my second home.
I was entranced by your stare; each passion-kissed day
alone with you was tethered loosely to the next
perfect, steamy day. The summer's citrus sun sprayed
light upon perfumed petals in our garden of love.
I could have pulled away before autumn's chill
but yearned to be held captive by, to know intimately,
the shackles of your love until I could no longer breathe
or desire from you more than I could give of myself.
A girl became a woman when the ripe August moon
shared its silver beams of passion in that far off, exotic place.
Brilliant in mind, it seems like yesterday but was many years ago.
As quick as you stepped into my life, you were gone,
taking with you the sultry sun and late summer moon –
you were a stranger I knew too well but not well enough
to mourn. I’m older now, busy with responsibilities.
My skin, slightly weathered, is thicker. I carry the weight
of my mistakes on my back, and still, I stand tall.
I share my strength, my love, my embrace, but
I carry the secret of you closer to my heart as I age.
Our summer memories are a part of my dreams
and the source of many misty-eyed smiles in sunlight.
For Frank's Love In A Far Off Place Contest, 7/26/15
I seal a kiss of blessings away from traitors
away from judgmental people and haters.
I am weary of reading and listening
to people using their pen to cripple, bringing
pain and suffering to other living souls.
I ask what their goal is to cast hot coals.
The vengeful dishonesty to incriminate
just makes us accumulate and abominate
the actions of the judgmental people and haters.
That is no way to behave, like mud swamp gators
because it seems to be conveyed that way.
Stop and surrender your brawling and say, "Nay!"
Back off! No more! Stay away!
11/8/2017
Don’t get down because of haters hating,
use it as motivation to shove your success in their face.
At picnics Sue's legs are akimbo
No panties, but Sue ain't no bimbo
It keeps pesky flies
Landing on our pies
Our days out are never in limbo!
Your best New Limerick Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
02/03/20
Today it’s Pancake Day and there’s to be a pancake race
Entrants are on the starting line with a smile upon their face
Old Ted ‘s ready with his frying pan, he is a fat old josser
but when it comes to pancakes, Ted’s an expert tosser
The gun goes BANG and off they go, Ted’s busy tossing away
busty Bertha's in the lead, if she wins there’ll be hell to pay!
Ted’s won the race the last five years, he tosses night and day
the trophy’s been on his top shelf, he hopes that’s where it’ll stay
Bertha stumbles, her pancake drops and she begins to cry
Ted sneakily stamps on her pancake; he’s such a crafty guy
The finishing line is in sight, there’s about fifty yards to go
Ted frantically tosses his pancake; his wrist goes fast not slow
Bill makes a sterling effort and comes at Ted from behind
they toss their pans in unison; Bill's got winning on his in mind
Ted lunges at the white tape, but the result’s declared a draw
Bill suggests they have a ‘toss off’ - there’s not been a draw before
Both men take a breather, awaiting a fresh pancake to toss
if either of them drops their pancake it will be a great loss
Both men stand on the finish line and flip and toss like mad
neither of them will concede, whoever loses will be quite sad
A crowd gathers, all eager to know who’ll be crowned the winner
suddenly a seagull swoops and grabs Ted’s pancake for its dinner
Ted starts to shout and stamps his feet when it’s announced Bill's won
he takes it all too seriously, but Bill declared the toss off was such fun!
Poem edited - originally posted in 2017
02/16/21
In a city as big as New Yawk,
There’s so much at which tourists can gawk
But the locals’ fast pace
May be hard to embrace
So if guiding them, slow down your walk.
You can never squeeze everything in,
So pick places they never have been
And of course, be a mensch;*
Let them sit on a bench
Or exhaustion will make their heads spin.
Have them soak up the buzz we provide,
Surely different from where they reside.
They may love it or not
But at least they’ll have got
Just a taste of what fills us with pride.
*an admirable human being
It was a week before my eighteenth birthday;
I was a drug dealer. Hooked also, but with no cares.
From a small town where no one had any money,
I figured I would get off like the rich kids whose daddies bought their freedom.
But my daddy was a convict, and he had no money.
He only had a son, me.
The judge decided to make an example of me.
Because there would be no fuss.
Because I was a poor boy from a poor family,
and my family was deemed “bad”.
I was “bad” by association, and of course, my mother was the town whore. Which did not help.
So they put me in for twenty-five years, and I was not even eighteen.
Don’t worry, a public defender who did not know me lied.
You might have to serve eight.
I got into fights because I did not want to do what others did.
I wanted to keep myself for myself.
Or for a nice girl.
I was a horrible inmate.
The guards were always dragging me to the prison doctor.
I got sent away before I was eighteen.
I came out a week before my forty-third birthday.
My youth spent in prison, with others who made a mistake,
most of them poor, many black.
I was one of the few whites in there,
because they do not usually make examples of us.
But I was a poor kid from a poor family,
and they wanted to make an example of me.
Lesson learned. Try to be rich in America.
And do not make any mistakes if you are black or poor.