Best On Par Poems
How many roses since have come and gone?
he thought as he sat looking at her grave.
How many futures had been staked upon
those brilliant blooms to her he often gave?
What stiff buds like hands in prayer since drawn
in oils on canvas did she seem to crave?
“White angels,” she did sing the day they wed.
Again he placed them here now she was dead,
as he'd done each year upon her birthday.
The emerald garden and granite stones
still looked untouched. The olive trees now swayed
as ever had in June. As white as bones,
statues silent, but proud as gods portrayed,
were yet his marble friends and not undone
by tears. My Angel White was she when wed,
he mused again, his feelings still unsaid.
A thousand memories like ivy spill
over the wall behind his quiet chair.
Such fervent whispers in a windless chill
go through his head of sparse and silver hair.
So many letters from an inkless quill
he wrote alone as though they'd reach her there.
A thousand roses white as angels tread
upon his dreams, keep singing in his head.
But now the car was packed, the house was sold.
Their young sons all were grown and since moved out.
He blurted forth, “My darling, now I'm old.
The boys are grown and all are strong and stout;
I know that you'll be safe within their fold.
I must move, have a life that's now about
the years that I have left. I'll always hold
those times we had as precious as though gold.”
He stood and put the chair into the car.
He cried upon the freeway for some time,
the new life in the desert still afar
from coastal past and reminiscent clime.
A new home that he'd found could be on par
with what he'd now let go. Had come the time
when he must vanquish sacred angels white.
And thus he drove into the coming night.
8/20/17
She's like the night, a lampshade lit across the room
also a rose in a summer garden always ready to bloom
She's like a thousand stars surrounding the moon
a celestial scene of beauty here then gone too soon
Ink Empress of the site she comments like an Angel
always kind and always perceptive she enables
Ink Empress of my heart, you make me grateful
for you read my poetry but, you never label...
You are a cyber friend from afar a leading star
a Paridot of the sky with a hue one cannot mar
Without soul blemish you always win by far
for your kindness and gentleness, is on par
Ink Empress of the night you contain so my sight,
that even the quill of a bird, can see your light.
Written by: Your Mystic Rose
***
This is a tribute to a dear poet who always makes us feel at home,
and if you haven't read her poetry yet, please drop by her
page and read her, she's one amazing lady.
On April 26, 1992 a baby boy was born to parents that did not want him. The parents chose to not abort, instead of terminating his life in the womb, they gave him up for adoption. Adopted he was loved and had wonderful parents that cared and nurtured him through his upbringing. Because two wonderful human beings cared for this young man, he grew up to be a role model for other Kids, in a generation where Heroes are needed to be looked up to, in a dark world that we are living in today. This young man did not succumb to drugs, crime, or hate. He stood out like a beacon of light and hope for those less fortunate in those evil environments. He was an overcomer to say the least. The one in a million Lottery ticket winner, if you will. Sadly he could have been an aborted statistic but God had other plans for this young man. At 30 years old he was 6ft 7 inches tall, 282 lbs. He beat the world record for homeruns in a single season without using drugs, or steroids, he accomplished this with hard work and training, and dedication. He is on par to win one of Baseball's greatest Honors, the Triple Crown. He could be the greatest player to play baseball of all time, but more importantly the life he has led, overshadows his abilities as a baseball player. He is what Heroes are made of. It all started with a Couple's love to adopt. Yes, my friends, the Hero I am referring to is America's greatest baseball player Aaron Judge. The story doesn't end there. For there are Five Heroes here. They are the original parents that chose to spare his life and give him up for adoption. They are Patty and Wayne Judge who opened their homes and hearts to raise a lovely son for the world to appreciate and love. Aaron leads by example. In all of the darkness in this world, God gave us a Light to see and appreciate through Aaron Judge...
Michael Tor
Inspired by Don Baron's article.
Dedicated to all baseball fans,
Yankee fans, and my brother
Gus for his love of Baseball.
O! FLUFF! FIZZ! ICE-TRUFFLES and BANDALEES!
Can't see the forest, for the snow on trees!
Where every gossamer veil of snow delights
And every string of bulbs mimics Heav'n's Lights!
O! TRUE! the tales of gnomes and Ice-Elves are!
(I fear some fool will catch one in a jar
and so, I've held my Peace on this -- so far)
But NOW, I must speak out, you see... on par
With Ancient Wisdom are the Fairy Stories,
Chuck full of Angels, dwarves... filled with the Glories
Of... Champions, Magicians of Renown...
Of tiny folk, who live in Tinytown…
Of Reprimands for those who trouble Nature
(Or use JUST Scientific Nomenclature).
REBUKE! O, WISE! The Unbelievers, ALL!
Who LAUGH at gnolls and trolls, both great, and small!
For He that trusts not, sews with poison thread,
That knots Hope; leaves Imagination dead.
Date Written: December 28, 2018
For Contest: BUNNY LUMP
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
(Dedication: For my PoetrySoup friend Funom Makama.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Faith anchors well
Fond feel that tells
Hope knows a sight
Where faith casts light
Love hints and calls
In rise and fall
Dare find the way
To walk each day
It's plain to see
What yet may be
Dare venture far
With love on par
Let faith bring hope
Where love sculpts scope
Live journey trip
Dare fashion grip
All in due time
Chimes sync with rhymes
Leon Enriquez
21 May 2017
Singapore
Rainy day today
Rainy day Sunday
Sunday on par
Sunday too far
Far better now
Far to go
Go with wind
Go with breeze
Breeze dries clothes
Breeze dries hair
Hair curls softly
Hair curls tight
Tight rope walker
Tight rope act
Act one action
Act one scene
Scene from train
Scene from ship
Ship sail seas
Ship has captain
Captain steers ship
Captain flies plane
Plane glides in
Plane takes off
Off we go
Off to market
Market sales on
Market price war
War is unpeaceful
War is evil
Evil isnt good
Evil is not nice
Nice is sweet
Nice is better
Better is fortunate
Better is precious
Precious is valuable
Precious is priceless
Priceless is art
Priceless is good health
Health is important
Health is imperative
Imperative is urgent
Imperative is pressing
Pressing is ironing
Pressing is necessity
Necessity is Blitz
Necessity is fine
Fine.
Blitz
On par to manage joyful course
Approach to live without remorse
While dictums of insanity
Are grinding spars impaling me
Perchance to light upon derail
The most melodic harmony
The rest express to no avail
Irrelevant profanity
Experience of life prevails
Experience no sailing smooth
Pause to enjoy a hilltop fair
The valley comes, despair resumes
The naturalist in us all
Burying the deepest it only resides
Realism forever more
Whether or not... everything only ties
We can never be who we are
Because everyday we are all trying to be
Minds and time never on par
Why is there a certainty we always see?
How do we apply what we want?
In every other country deem foreign
Are there laws never knowing we can run?
Are there enough differences we never really care to learn?
There is no naturalism in what we do
Because what we have done did not just come by
The kind of hardship we know but never knew until
What we do was earned and not for reasons why
We are all products of how natural we can't be
Dare I say naturalism are those without minds...
You do know we all have freedom without freedom to be free
Because the world will never tell you but remind...
You have your roots forgotten
Your perception's now rotten
Noticing oh so sudden
That brother's a great burden
No love for brother or sis
With contempt at them you hiss
And the sharpest point you miss
That racism can't bring bliss
People can be blue, black, white
I can name colours all night
But do remember alright
Only yourself you do fight
Because we all are on par
And you're left behind so far
Still your scars with spite you mar
Frowning at those black as tar
With the same hands, all God made
Watch as you do colours grade
Without love, away you'll fade
For we belong under one shade
You say no one gets the beauty of fear
It's what reminds us how human we are
The subtle moment when all is so clear
That from birth to death, the journeys not far
The joy comes between the fire and the char
The instinct that pushes us all to fight
And not to wish for refuge from the scars
Because shooting stars are death in the night
You say no one wants their nightmares so near
Despite the God-given rush from the stars
That space between the madness and the tears
That echoing scream that thrills as it jars
Happiness is a cell; pain is the bars
Defeating fear is what puts us in flight
Hoping is a catch, and wishes will mar
Because shooting stars are death in the night
You say dread shapes us; it's how we cohere
It unites us all, from peasant to Czar
We all know terror: vague, blinding or sheer
We all fear what we think to be bizarre
We have all been frozen, stuck in the tar
Caught in place by the glory of our fright
Wishes fade like dieing strains from afar
Because shooting stars are death in the night
Dark time prince, with your ideals and guitar
Sing your baleful views, which are out of sight
Sing of your wishes that are not on par
Because shooting stars are death in the night
I make this detection
upon introspection
of the woodblock inside me named soul
I'm sightless to beauty
on par with a cootie
or, moreover, an underground mole
I distinguish not burdock
from daisy nor hollyhock
a flower is a flower; just that
in all shades and shapes
their splendor escapes
their fragrance akin to rat
For music I've no ear
from hip-hop to austere
discordant cacophonies at best
hush is harmonic;
uncluttered by sonic
my woodblock is calm and at rest
Plaintive prose
gets right up my nose
and further if wordily verbose;
I don't mean to knock
but it's all poppycock
and frankly it's inclined to perturb us.
I have more to relate
let me share my pet hate
'tis birdsong, a misnomer of speech
birds scream and shriek
they squeal and they squeak
a maddening medley of screech
I still have dreams of my favorite car
It took me to places not really far
On some days it would not start
One day it just fell apart
So few moments we were on par
Glimpse a new norm that tells the truth,
Attend to sight that knows the stars;
Lift the old form that veils the proof,
Ignite a light with grace on par;
Lame no more then the cause most right,
Explore the skies in curious view;
Observe just when planets fill sight,
Gain learned highs in awesome hues;
A precious find you come to know,
Learn to know more this universe;
Ideas fill mind where genius grows,
Light bares and pours in-sync yet terse;
Endure the pains where blind men lead,
Induct most plain what true stars plead.
Leon Enriquez
02 May 2015
Singapore
Preface to this brief bitty
written snap ting snapshot – word ditty
dates back before I reached gritty
age of eight and fifty, aye recall a kitty
rescued by my youngest sister, who took pity
and felt aghast,
at a potential cruel fate no witty.
Upon return home from an Antioch College coup
(so many diverse work experiences required -
some involving offal goop
i.e. case in point being this anecdote,
which may fall outside the loop
of common “hands on
off fish shawl” employment,
thee tasks on par with handling poop
stoically accepted by Shari Todd
(name of said sibling),
who when home from Davis, California
(albeit temporarily, and before she returned
to Yellow Springs, Ohio) divulged
how she did scoop
dread, dreck, dregs, et, cetera –
i.e. by product amidst fish farm
didst set her dead against being linkedin
purr animal cruelty, thus play role of troop
er – which tummy
earned her kudos a resounding whoop!
* * * * * * * * * * *
Before launching into this poem purr say
lemme mention how thine late mother
took an immediate affinity and hence no delay
that this lucky creature became akin to a bebe.
Main Coon, Felis catus, nicknamed Boozie
raccoon features, face mask, brown thick costume
handsome boy, affectionate personality, expressively vocal
Pink wet nose, emerald eyes, pointed ears
cavernous mouth, sharp teeth, rough tongue
striped design, massive fluffy fur, bushy tail
Soft paws, padded cushions, retractable blades
wild animal, predation urge, survival instinct
agile movement, swift motion, unfortunate victim
Door prize, flies feast, whitened bones
loyalty strong, pageant display,
splayed across kitchen table courtly dignity
Quiet house, sonar sounded, Cheshire upward smile
purred softly, rubbed legs, warm vacant lap
Jumping agility, firmly sequestered
Contentment expressed, internal hum, reciprocal therapy
beautiful petsmart, little monkey, comfortably sleeps
peaceful slumber, wakeful stretch, ideal life
Fortunate intervention, cat whisker to demise,
brush avoided becoming piscine meal,
kingly privileged role, heartfelt love.
prosaic prologues bewitch
feeble minded scribe doth undertakes
tend toward lugubriousness ring tone
for goodness sake
echoing across,
a figurative lake woebegone, where quake
shutters latched storm windows,
clapped closed winter season didst make
physical environment lachrymose
analogous to imp pond durable dark lake
where sits inside secluded hut,
this fledgling author named Jake
a former cub (scout) at a loss
to string together an aria
tomb other nature and NOT FAKE,
sepulchral paeon to divine Gaea, Mother Earth
especially incorporating
mutisyllabic (sesquipedalian) words,
which exertion
on par with giving birth
(or so I guess),
a particularly heavily pregnant laden dearth
of help mates, doubling demonstrably
deadly duty devoid of mirth
totally tubular taxing toll,
an essentially unbearable
effort with bulging girth
whereat digestion consumes
latent mental ambition,
especially toasty warm near the hearth
which hitherto unknown to any reader
twas Xmas fabrication and fiction
no crime committed, nor animals harmed
in the making of diction
aery necessary entrapping unsuspecting intellect
to comprehend somber benediction
unless perchance one lone wolf
bait Oven English Major
with Westernization
topped off with a European
debunaire suave acculturation
even luckier if hypothetical personage
dips daintily into forays epicurean,
though careful,
and alert since church fathers
would frown on parsonage
whose natural born ardor,
a spiritual abduction
stealing austerity, complacency, and objection
toward forced irrational schemas
averse to abnegation
unfair imposition
to foist upon pruriant predilection
also impossible
to sequester arbitrary animal urges,
punishing call of the wild,
sowing seeds a beastial accusation
considered averse,
then imposition contrition!