Best Opined Poems
The blackberry's love for the garden rose
Brought down the gardener's wrath.
The blackberry sensed the danger
As he wended the garden path.
" A love so true as mine", he sighed,
"Must dare to brave the hoe.
Just a few more feet to reach her,
My true love she must know."
He crept along so quietly,
Sometimes quite out of sight
Until he nudged his darling's feet.
Did he dare to trust the light?
He heard the gardener's heavy boot
And hid in craven shame.
He knew he'd soon be weeded out,
A seedling with no name.
"Have I no worth since I don't rate
Some Latin nomenclature?
Without a well known parentage
Am I a freak of nature?
His darling's line was long and pure,
No skeletons in her past.
He had to make his feelings known.
Those boots were treading fast.
Gently then he wrapped his vine
Around his loved one's spine.
In great amazement he opined,
"Her thorns are sharp as mine".
The sweet rose felt his tender touch
And realized his fear
And wondered at his bravery
In coming to her here.
She heard the swishing of the hoe,
She heard those nearing feet.
Quietly letting down her leaves
In a manner so discreet
She covered her wild lover.
The gardener unaware,
Stopped but to view her beauty.
He saw naught hiding there.
She whispered, "You are safe now".
The blackberry's heart was light,
Thankful that his dear sweet rose
Had not exposed his plight.
"A rose is still a rose." she said,
"By any other name
And in our distant ancestry,
We share some of the same".
"I'd rather know your wild love,
Than a love that's dull and tame,"
Cuddling close, returned his kiss
Without a bit of shame.
Next season there were seedlings
Of a very different kind.
The gardener delighted, cried
"A horticultural find."
The moral of this story?
Things aren't always what they seem.
The love you look down on today,
Could be tomorrow's dream.
"Until an hour before the Devil fell, God thought him beautiful in heaven."
A thousand, million years had fled
then thousand million more,
yet it was still the morning.
And there stood one, Transcendent,
whom we call God and the Divine,
whose reasoned might
stretched to clutch infinity—
and embraced eternity’s nether bounds
to fashion perfect round—
beginning's instant fused
with very end of things
that time endured no more.
Thus evening interlaced with morning,
from whose conjugative spawn emerged
a cosmic realm, its structure fine,
yet restive, taut and yearning.
Here coherence mingled self with
destiny, and thus arose intelligence.
Among its legion offspring,
daughters of the light
and one the son of morning,
a paragon of intellect—
in depth and reason boundless,
beautiful and firm, named Lucifer.
Beloved of Transcendence and
from whom the mighty angels
fled, nobility confounded.
Across mighty heaven’s parapets
he reasoned and opined.
And many thought him noble.
Yet temerity cannot assail wisdom
nor petulance conjure faith.
He, his mighty acolytes then stood
and cried aloud, trumpeting insistence,
and became among the first
whose grasp did not exceed their reach.
And war ensued—
A war of vaunted intellect,
but also narcissistic,
and rooted in deceit.
For he would exercise free will to battle,
then in victory rob all of its gift.
Therefore a quandary stood
that would not reconcile with reason.
Defeated, Satan stood no more in heaven.
Godly was their sorrow when he fell.
Now in our eyes and hearts and minds
do not echoes of the war resound?
First Place: Julia Ward's Contest: Expand Arthur Miller's Thought from The Crucible (quote above).
Velvet fell from the SKY ON a Boston day by the bay
Cotton caressed thy lips gentility so that you might sigh
While you tried to convince me you and I could beg to fly
Suddenly uncertainty and fearfulness drew night but I never knew why
Other people opined they were warm yet I was cold
I longed to see my arms open wide for you to thusly hold
The woman who tutored ancient men how to produce gold
No statue crafted of such solemnity to behold
To heartbeats beat as one neither ever to cry
Hand in had that old man called us lovebirds flying high
And you with gold shimmering in the wind with which you vie
When the moon that night told you to tell me goodbye
The darkened sky stared right at me
And whatever it asked I would cauIdally comply
They ordered me a way, take to the run and flee
And never even knew fu****g why
(c) 2011...Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
As I paddled the river Nile
I met a monstrous crocodile.
She smiled at me enticingly.
I smiled deferentially.
Through large white teeth to me she said,
"I want you in my river bed."
"We are not acquainted enough
for such intimate, tasteless stuff,"
I cried. A hippopotamus
opined, "Hey, we're amphibious.
We're inclined to romp through marshes;
come, let's crush some reedy rushes."
I paddled hard away. The Nile
now swirled by rapidly awhile
to the sea. There where its two brinks
grow apart it flows past a sphinx
who lies prone and thinks endlessly
deep thoughts about eternity.
For eons and eons his mind
thought thoughts about how to unbind
gravity from mentality
throughout universality,
that we might freely float;
no more need to paddle my boat.
Unfortunately, he has no gumption
to follow his least assumption;
but we do chat on fluently
of, to wit, stuff way beyond me
like hieroglyphic-ally writ
papyri. When he will not quit
I wander alone to a tomb
where lies Cleopatra, of whom
each schoolgirl knows; how her last gasp
came as she clasped to breast her asp.
Grasp that story's significance
twixt geometry class and dance.
Whilst she patronymic-ally
reigned, a most royal Ptolemy;
she told Marc, "My new last 'nym' now'll
be 'Anthony'." This, post her roll
out, quite nude, from Julius' rug.
His offer of sex met her mere shrug.
I stood amid a pyramid
or three and pondered where they hid,
these pharaohs, all their treasury.
Was power or mere pleasury
their true architectural plan?
To ever tell, no pharaoh can.
These writs I write as my boat drifts
midst original hieroglyphs
through the Mediterranean.
I don't need a librarian
to see, no sociology
compares to Egyptology.
The Great Meadow
Beyond the high hedge the great meadow extends to the sky
Its fallow grasses fanned into waves by a breeze.
While down the slope the bearded barley and rye
Make a downy golden fabric that clothes the leas
The largest field in England, so it's opined
Though a child beside an endless Kansas prairie
Beneath heavens that can be reached by heart and mind
No distant scene but a piece of homeland friendly
As I walked its hidden life became revealed
A pheasant ran with ungainly comic indignity
A startled cat leapt from a nest concealed
And a sky lark rose to sing an unfettered symphony
Across the counties were such prospects planned
From days when mighty shires hauled their wains
And still the fields and hedgerows shape the land
So let it ever green and pleasant remain
Soon plan B will be presided
and the skies will cry
Is there some cause
to be opined
The fallow fields
on a horses meadow
with her Foals
presides over a warm spring
Lost promises by the trees
although with the beast lurking
St George he tried
to avenge the haunting
God is Dead?
Hubris, man's nature
A God, self-proclaimed
Nietzsche opined he's dead
Conceit, we laugh and say, no way
Self-professed with special attributes
Sympathy, love, reciprocity; how divine
Exalting our human virtue
So convenient; unfortunately, so blind
We sublimate our consciousness
Valiantly creating a magnificent reality
The audacity
Willfully blind; to only see what we believe
If we were to open up our eyes - our mind
Acquiesce to the grandness, the complexity of it all
Humble
Perhaps we thrive before we fall?
Hubris, mankind's nature
In his image, we reflect piously
Nietzsche opined he's dead - and we have killed him
The narratives not about God - its about you and me
1, 6, 10, 9, 6, 3, 3, 4, 7, 1, 5,
8, 8,
We
Opined
Vigorously
Worked
And
The
Home
Chicken
Was
Saved
Peckings
Peckings
My new husband was a farm boy
who didn't like to roam.
It always took a lot of nagging
to get him to leave home.
But we were newly married,
I hadn't learned all of his dislikes.
I imagined us as travelers
who'd be going on big hikes.
So I was unaware of his sacrifice,
when he asked if I'd like to go
to the Exposition in Vancouver.
He probably hoped I would say no.
But I was more than willing
to go on a short vacation,
and it was more appealing since
we'd be in another nation.
We left early Saturday morning
to drive the one hundred miles.
When I thought of all the fun to come,
I could not hold back the smiles.
The closer we got to Vancouver
and our final destination,
my husband got more nervous
about the thick traffic congestion.
He drove right to the fairgrounds,
and didn't stop at our hotel.
I thought he did it to please me
and perhaps it was just as well.
There were so many great attractions,
we didn't know what to visit first,
and we ate so many exotic foods
I thought we would truly burst.
In the late part of the afternoon,
I said, "If you don't mind,
I'd like to go to our hotel now."
"You're right," my man opined.
They'll probably be filling soon.
we better go and lasso one."
I knew he must be joshing me,
just trying to have some fun.
He kept driving by the nice hotels
with signs "No Vacancy".
He drove on and on and on until
it really frightened me.
"You didn't make a reservation?
I can't believe that's really true.
We'll have no bed to sleep in.
What ever will we do?"
He kept on driving quietly.
Motel rooms had all been filled.
Although it had been a hot day,
I now was feeling chilled.
We were in a dingy part of the city
and were starting to turn around
when he saw a sign that promised
a vacancy would be found.
The registration desk was manned
by a man in an undershirt.
"Money first", he said before showing the room.
I felt like a piece of dirt.
"I think it's a flop house," my husband said.
I didn't like that term.
I though of rats and bed bugs and
it really made me squirm.
There was no way I'd get in that bed.
I chose a big leather chair.
With little to say, my husband laid down.
He was too tired to care.
I knew not what occurred in other rooms,
I heard footsteps and showers.
But you won't be surprised I know to hear,
nothing at all would happen in ours.
After guzzlin' beer Gus needed to pee.
He sought solace behind a nearby tree.
Before the judge he was fined,
To which Gus gravely opined:
"Where e'er you be let yer water flow free!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
There once was a Lass from up around Mass
Who ventured down south for some schoolin’
The boys were all giddy because she was so pretty,
But none caught the young lady’s fancy
Her suitors opined, but she was resigned
An old maid certain she’d be
Deep in her books, she gave none a look
But her grandpa weren’t without hope
Each day by the gates he stood with his hook
A young prince hoping to spy
No prince did appear, but against all fear
A gay minstrel did saunter by
Into the keep and down the main street
He passed in the blink of an eye
Off to the tower to find his fair flower
The bonny maiden he’d spotted afar
Our hero it seems was livin’ a dream
For crushed by the Ice Maiden he would certainly be
Onlookers wager the fool’s errand end
“Two Quid he’ll jump when she’s through with him!”
Onward he trod, his prize to hold
Journey at end and heart ever bold
“Come down to me!” he beckoned
The Ice Maiden unmoved
Outside her window, his love song to begin
Each day returnin’ to serenade again
Finally emergin’, the Ice Maiden relents
“Marry you will I, given one thing”
“Sing no more my love till the end of time,
For your tone deaf caterwaul drives me out of my mind.”
Charging nine twenty-five for a glass
Of merlot in this joint? Thanks, I'll pass.
I like Walmart's low rate.
At just two eighty-eight,
I can drink the whole bottle. What class!
I don't have to own futures and stocks
Or hang out with some overpaid jocks.
'Cuz I've often opined
That the best wine you'll find
Can be poured from a spout on a box.
Written June 17th for Francine Roberts' Bottle of Wine, (fruit of the vine, when.......)
contest
Horrific evil captured world attention
Rationalization failed comprehension
Act of war ISIS terrorists
Long night of massacre and murder
Fear and realization of dreaded word
Hidden danger scariest
Reporters opined media replayed
Suspects apprehended within a day
Tales of bravery slowly told
World mourned for senseless tragedy in France
Information on suspects utmost importance
When or where next unknown
Written 12-16-2015
'Rime Couee - For France - Contest' By Debbie Guzzi
8th Place
"Truth be Told," James Bond opined
Over a pint of Guinness
"Love is just a consequence
of bouncing balls in tennis!"
You Caught My Eye
When I espied a pretty lady
to love who was so ready
I searched for words of choice
to prop up my husky voice.
*
You thought me too blind
or, that Writers have no mind?
You opined that I'm too royal
to beauty not quite loyal?
*
Nay, an eye by beauty caught
is an eye perfectly wrought
For, to cherish and to love
is a free Gift from Above!!
Dedication to the Great Poet; Sextus Propertius.
27th September 2013