Best Opting Poems
[A Pleiades consists of 7 lines, each having 6 syllables.
The title consists of ONE word only (and that word will NOT
be used again in the poem itself). The first word in each line
begins with the same letter as the title.]
Obsessed by jealousy
Overwhelmed to the point
Of no return, I reach
Out to you for comfort
Ousting repulsive thoughts
Opting to replenish
Our parched and arid love.
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Pleiades “O” Contest
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Placed 5th
Happy New World
A new day glows as the year comes to close
Opting for true love that rejects old throes,
Wishing happiness for all ringing heavenly bells,
Offering hand of friendship as tranquility dwells.
No need to waste time making elaborate plans,
A silent prayer in unison will awaken all hands
Linking solidarity to defeat emissaries of evil
When angels will join in to vanquish the devil.
Citizens of this world over seven billion strong
Have enough power to defy mighty atom bomb,
For no one would die if no one would fight,
Refusing to pull trigger will end unsightly fright.
Healing won't begin until we recognize the pain
Hiding in places where despair and grief reign.
A tiny part of each of us can restore dignity
As people rise-up to save anguished humanity.
May volunteers bring smiles to saddened faces
As regal actions shine brightly in angelic graces.
Imagine billion hands reaching to those in need
Uplifting resolutely, engaged in a noble deed.
May the world unite with heartfelt compassion
As message of kinship reverberates true passion.
In a world without wars there are no weapons
For trust builds friendship that peacefully beckons.
May new-year dawn wishing happy new world to all,
May deliverance of goodness answer every call,
May courage dominate defying perils big and small,
May harmony loom large as unity stands tall.
December 30, 2017
First place: Best poem contest by Silent One
I didn't always adhere to the warnings of the experts
who declared nothing beyond time-outs should be used
to correct a child’s behavior—that parents must not,
even temporarily, take away a toy or a privilege OR
use “psychologically damaging” responses like
“What you just did was bad”!
When you, as a teenager, fought me at every turn,
when you despised me--or seemed to--
the experts' words came back to haunt me.
Still, I continued on my chosen path and tried
not to reveal how defeated and helpless I felt.
While the renowned psychologists were saying,
"The teenager's privacy must not be violated,"
I was watching you, not always from afar.
When, in spite of me, you began accomplishing a degree
privacy at the tender age of 14, you hid from me, opting
to use that freedom to forge risky relationships
that alienated you from those who really cared.
Over time, something beautiful happened.
You metamorphosed into a fine young lady.
As a parent, you have neither punished severely
nor spoiled your children. You've limited
their privacy and kept hold of the reins.
As they sneer at you and rebel, you wonder,
as I once did, If you've taken the wrong route.
I can't verbally assure you that you haven't.
I can't give you an encouraging embrace.
Perhaps I did enough while I was there.
January 1, 2019, entered in Emile Pinet's Free Verse Style Poetry Only contest,
placed 2nd
February 4, 2019, entered in Chantelle Anne Cooke's Favorite Free Verse Contest
An hour before time, they put her through the motions.
Shoving and pulling her strings adding oil and suntan lotion.
Hot and humid still shining in candid spirit she professes
in music, a monotone but in finesse, a tune nonetheless.
Of her welcome song intrinsic in me but to her handlers, in blase
only the mere task of steering and roping in tense power play.
Embarking though marred by obvious signs of abuse and neglect.
Her rolling in elation disguised the slippery entrance and my regret.
Drivers accommodating cramped spaces as directed, gently to fill.
Opting to maitain serenity as they in vain, placate her iron will.
Do I hear her rising blood pulses or lack of joy in welcome thereof?
No, just the sound of tumultuous creaks and human smell
of perfume, tainted sweat and punjent oil leaks let off.
Disgruntled impatience of mere sailors but of her, not a peep.
Standing tall, holding firm a class of her own as she let sweep.
Riding the waves in style directing me to the destiny I must keep.
On and on she rides tantalising the waves as they foam at the peaks.
Such insight when she lapses into a lullaby putting me to sleep.
I return to a friend who knows well to serve, to ferry me ashore.
Another blissful time with her as the sea beckons for us to explore.
She is faithful, a useful companion with its own metallic commodore.
Sailing majestically forever a classy lady, our very own Lady Samoa.
(N.B Lady Samoa is our Inter-Island Ferry)
On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity;
neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity,
as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man
asks her to dance, she must decline.
Stuck in a bubble, just missing the boat,
floating past maybes, a lump in her throat,
she dawdles and dangles, an inch from forever,
a chance to break open, but opting for never.
One day she will make it, step into the limelight,
and pirouette daintily, taking his hand,
there'll be no more jitters or lame-brain excuses
just confident motions in time with the band.
What a relief to be one of a legion
of movers and shakers who're down from the shelf,
she's gliding with grace while avoiding another's toes,
hugging her partner instead of herself.
*******
...autobiographical, you wouldn't believe how much!
One Senior’s Sonnet
The feelings are frozen, fetid in time,
Decisions denied to the dwindling mind;
Possibilities piling like lengths of twine;
Acceptance of aging cannot be blind.
Duties demean while trying to hold on;
Where hides the help while faculties dim?
Will compassion kindle the fire now gone?
Can joints jump for joy in arthritic limbs?
The sun is sinking in a twilight red rest.
Peace being pursued is allowed conquest.
And tasks like talisman line up in rows
In order opting one by one were chose.
The frightening fear of morning’s trembly dawn,
With prayer and persistence is dead and gone.
She reaches out with frozen fingers,
tapping on my shoulder,
looking for attention.
Her crisp, clear breath dances about my neck,
causing me to pull on my collar,
and wrap my scarf a little tighter.
She creates a wonderland of magic,
but one so cold that I avoid her presence,
opting instead for the comfort of a warm blanket,
and cozy fire.
But still, she has her allure.
My curiosity is to know her,
to feel her cold, crystal-like touch,
to feel the numbness in my bones
as she wraps me in her arms.
I hear as it were, a strange quietness,
the stillness of the moment,
the solitude,
and the feeling as if she alone is all I have,
and without her I am nothing.
She captivates me, my Winter Mistress,
my only thought,
my one desire,
until the warmth of spring breaks the spell,
and I am released from her embrace.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
For the life of me I can't understand,
Why you can't fall in love.
I never bring roses on a first date,
Always opting for a live dove.
You hit the linoleum so quick,
Without even the slightest shove.
As the front door slammed,
off your feet you were knocked.
Almost fell off the chair,
As you drank whilst I talked
Tripped over my left foot,
As we danced interlocked.
Almost passed out with,
An allergic reaction to steak?
Jumped out of my car before,
I could even hit the brake.
Broke year heel running away,
Tumbling over the hidden rake.
You're lucky I caught you when,
You fell back from my first kiss.
This whole night has been,
Full of the 'falling' near miss.
Fall in love with me one more time, I know,
I will sweep you off you feet into eternal bliss.
“This time I would catch that shooting star
before its fiery demise!” I loudly proclaimed.
Dispelling all doubt when it comes to wishes...and how a
majority perish like dreams upon awakening (dawn sometimes
not all that is cracked-up to be – forgetting light and dark
having both their treasures and defeats)
Like being alone
and lonely are not necessarily mutual. Many of us continue
to contrast evil and righteousness, using only eyes
and feelings~shades and colors easiest to see and clarify –
opting too readily for something we can taste, swirl in our mouths,
like good and bad kisses. But...back to that star,
as I held it in my eyes long after its parting –
as I gave it gleam, long after its brightest moment –
then gave it your name, realizing you a forever blazing
part of me....
Being Taciturn
(TASS-uh-tern)
By: Miracle Man
8/29/2018
She’s often outwardly taciturn in a group setting,
Opting to be inconspicuous, “Like a fly on the wall.”
Being attentive to others while mentally vetting,
Often, her shorthand is chosen method of scrawl.
MY BIG RED TOMATO
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
Stopped by a roadside stand last week
Just out of curiosity I thought I’d peek
At yellow corn and small red potatoes
But mesmerized by the big red tomatoes
Mouth was watering awaiting the taste
I’ll eat it all leaving nothing to waste
On to the kitchen and washing them off
I’ll wait a day or so to let them get soft
Well the time is here and they are ripe
Time to satisfy my gastronomical hype
Onto the table then a horizontal slice
A quarter inch thick my palate to entice
Fresh Italian bread cut at a slant and thin
Sandwich this good should be branded a sin
Bursting with juice and so fleshy and firm
Heavenly flavor my taste buds confirmed
It was that slight sprinkling of salt, I believe
That topped off the ecstatic result I achieved
I’m going back to that stand experience teaches
This time I’m opting for those big yellow peaches
All the eagles soar increasingly circular overhead my umbrella.
All the elephants thrash inconsolably tasting of trees umber.
All the earwigs buzz inexpressively surrounding oracles with uncertainty.
All the evil makes illness triumphant over the unclean.
All these expressions say ignore details obey the unusual.
Animals like everyone have inelegant needs overcome by uptrends
all may embrace but illusions may overturn their usefulness
and we extravagantly take impressionable judgments opting for unawareness.
we all suffer from fatigue
we all suffer from pain
we all suffer mood changes
we all suffer personality changes
we all positive and negative
we all withdraw from
we all obsessive about
we all abused and abusers
we all harm ourselves and others
we all seek physical and psychological pleasure
we all take prescription medicines
we all know that there is not a straight border between illness
we all know that there's not a straight border in Cardiology
we all know that there's not a straight border in Urology
we all know that there's not a straight border in Mental illnesses
we all know that there's not a straight border in Medicine(s) (s)
we all have a power deeply strong in
we all blot on
we all receive into the mind and retain
we all take in something
we all take in
even metaphorically
we all assimilate
consume
soak up
sop up
belt down
guzzle
we all kill like cigarettes with our concluding actions of defeat
we write quickly afraid of,
life is like Sports where we all want to score the most
in our search for the New we want to differentiate dissimilate
We all want to be very positive in our features and attributes
we all have our dues
we all want the best for the other
we all linked
we all care about
we all have our causes
we all have the right to a better tomorrow
we all wish the best to our friends,
we all want to help the disadvantaged
But are we listening to our power that unmistakable guide us along the path of life, Our love, truth and abundance,
Are we following it?
Are we close to others?
Are we respecting the natural environment?
or we all do the above as climbers,
kidnapping the flame opting-show off (commercial also)
replacing Power for an aim leaving the traits in oneself-locked
Mirror, Mirror…
by Odin Roark
Mirror, mirror off the wall,
who’ve you seen the most craven
of them all?
How portable your travels,
from storefront windows,
to dead-quiet water surfaces,
you remain vanity’s evil sister.
We thrust our egos willingly,
even as we treat you as a non-entity,
a mere reflective surface,
yet…
Your nocturnal savvy--
your ability to slip into our dreams,
to shake the very foundation
of our arrogant consciousness,
our daytime persona of reality,
our screaming reflection,
muffled by REM periods of
answers to questions
we dare not ask during consciousness--
is so perceptive.
So shaken are we upon waking,
our mirrors of self-image we dare not face,
now indelibly imbedded in our inherent wandering,
a revealing only we know.
We start another day.
We pass more storefront windows,
gaze into our morning black coffee,
perhaps a walk through Central Park
passing the mirror-like duplicity of the lake,
realizing inertia and purpose are incompatible.
Our desk top monitor,
the boss’s glass enclosed family portrait,
the spit shine of a supervisor’s shoes,
even the toilet bowl in revealing light,
there we are.
Perhaps we need come at these reflections sideways,
these environments of foreboding shadow,
where we might sneak a view of our shortcomings,
see hidden truth and know it’s okay to ask
questions we are afraid to posit.
But…
Perhaps that’s only possible after we
avoid completely the reflective surfaces
as friend,
as us,
as truth,
as the one we deem as real,
opting instead for the inner person
the non-reflective entity only we know,
the person who knows a reflection
is but a surface defense.
Mirror, mirror…
He come into this world for our sake
His unconditional love made Him sacrifice Himself
With each step He took, we follow
God was merciful unto us,for He loves us more
Opting to give us His only son so that we could be saved
Three nails and a cross was the perfect sacrifice
No scapegoats could clean our sins
More and more were sacrificed so that God could forgive us
The Lamb of God was the only redemption
He was called the King of the Jews
Crowned with thrones on His head, surely he was humble to death
Each stripe cleaned our sins
Each drop of blood from His body washed us clean
Each tear He shed, took away our pain and sadness
Three nails and a cross
As the nails pierced His body, He scream in pain
The cup He drank was too heavy for the physical form
The weight of the sins were too heavy for one man
But through Him we found salvation and love
As the sky got more darker, He asked why He forsake Him
The Creator was been nailed into a cross by His creation
It was the fulfilling of the scriptures
With His last words, it was completely finished
Three nails and a cross took death and gave us life.