Best Outpace Poems


Achilles and the Tortoise

In ancient times as told in rhymes 
    there was a hero Greek
Whose mother said, “Before you’re dead 
    you should go out and seek
The glorious fame that goes with your name, 
    my dearest son Achilles.”
So Achilles set out upon that route 
    and gave up his life of ease.
And he came to a place that held a race 
    to determine the fleetest and bravest.
And he beat them all, the short and the tall, 
    and was proclaimed of Greeks the greatest.

But when he was done there came a one 
    who asked him a simple question:
“You’ve beat all the Greeks, I did hear them speak,
    but, do I dare to mention,
Your fame and your name are likely to wane 
    until you outrace a tortoise.”
Though this contestant-to-be (for a tortoise was he) 
    appeared in complete rigor mortis,
Our hero Achilles, with grace and with ease, 
    took up this one last challenge.
For he thought to outpace this reptile base 
    was a thing he could quite easily manage. 

“But before we go, since I am slow, 
    I really should have a headstart.”  
And Achilles agreed, for despite his great speed, 
    he really was not very street smart. 
And the upshot was he lost it because 
    of an ancient Greek named Zeno.
That philosopher wrote (and here I quote): 
    “No matter how fast and no matter how slow,
It follows from logic,” (‘though this sounds idiotic, 
    if I'm allowed to be blunt!),
“That the race will always be won by that mother’s son 
    who started out in front.”
 
“Though this may make one giddy, it’s quite simple really 
    and clear to any observer:
If one runs without pause to where the other just was,
    that one has now moved on further.
Since this scenario’s repeated till the race is completed, 
    the conclusion is thus inescapable: 
Whoever's behind will never catch up, at least not enough,
    and their victory was never attainable.”
Categories: outpace, humorous,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Something Borrowed

Tick-tock ya can’t rewind
Time doesn’t stop or fall behind
Clock hands cut like a sharpened knife
Time doesn’t lose it runs your life

Born with a cry blink then you're grown
Chasing years you’ll never own
Gold turns gray fast and sly
Can’t outpace it don’t even try

Heroes fall and empires bend
Every story meets its end
Watches shine but they betray
Marking life that slips away

No bribes deals or cheat codes work
Time doesn’t flinch and it won’t shirk
Kings and beggars rich or broke
We all breathe time like secondhand smoke

Tick-tock ya can’t rewind
Time doesn’t stop or fall behind
Clock hands cut like a sharpened knife
Time doesn’t lose don’t let it steal your life
Categories: outpace, time,
Form: Free verse

Full Term

"I've lived too long," he ruefully said
As I was moving him to his last home.
"A respectable man would be dead.
My life is an obese, timed-out tome."

Truth lived in the old man's words.
He had reached the doddering age.
His brain shrunk to bird-like size--
A pity, he was once seen as a sage.

It's possible to outpace mortality's run
When body and mind come to naught.
But it isn't for us to declare "I'm done."
Valid moments may still be brought.

"What kind of moments?" he implored.
To live the full term God granted you.
It will be difficult but can't be ignored.
It's what Deity would have you do.

"With no quality of life, it's a sham.
It's senseless to endure such grief."
I opened a book picturing the Lamb,
And his face betrayed a sense of relief.

In His time you can bid this life adieu--
The ups and downs, the stress and strife.
Only then will you be thoroughly through.
Only then are you fit to turn in your life.
Categories: outpace, age, death,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


For Katherine Jenkins

My soul was ruptured by crystal soprano
As I walk from door to door
Try to outpace my welling tears

Noble silver - perfect jewel
Reduce a man to burning fuel
Untill I spellbound  dont exist

Your voice a bell , my disbelief
That could summon men to wander off
To dwell in wanton pergatory

and kneel in wonder of a eucharist
A radiant flame of holiness - an arum lily
The palor of  thy countenance

Taste of Russian Ural honey
Lift me to the stratosphere
Never was heard a sweeter sound

I was born for hearing this
Surpassing every ounce of elegance
Surrender meekly to thy song of godliness
Categories: outpace, dedication, devotion, for her,
Form: Free verse

The Polar Bear

Inspired by Seren Roberts
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the polar bear is unaware the reason
why its hunting ground is de-freezing
unlike the human race
it sadly cannot outpace
climate change, warmer is each season.
Categories: outpace, nature, weather,
Form: Limerick

Fire In Them Eyes

Imparting methods thru the madness 
where questions outpace explanation 
and the winding road remains to be seen 
  
I am reaching out to you   
to push me past the pains of obscurity 
into the lands of the warmth and the free 
  
I like the fire in them eyes 
as it radiates the resilience, 
the remembrance, 
that tomorrow's another day   
  
the westward winds will change 
time rushes   
and will wonder why 
we walk along the seashore 
not letting these moments 
pass us by
© Tim Smith  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: outpace, love,
Form: Free verse


My Mirror Adversary

My father always told me
My strongest adversary
Was my own reflection.
In the mirror,
It always shadowed me-
My own personal monster
I could never escape from.

I learned to hate my reflection.

The biggest problem was
My mirror adversary
Grew with me.
I could never outpace It.
Never throw a harder punch,
Never out-think It,
Never do more than
Come to a draw
With my own reflection-
I was not
Allowed
To break the glass.

I learned to shatter myself instead.

When I got older,
Those things didn’t change.
Rather,
I worked to outdo
My own manifestation-
My shadow took the same
Steps as me and I realized
I had another opponent
In the ring with me-
My thoughts
Turned darker
With the lengthening
Of the hours.

I learned to start each day with longer strides.

Today,
In my house,
I kept the lights off-
In the darkness,
I realized,
There are no shadows.
There are no reflections.
There was only ever me.

I learned how to start over.

Now, my shadow and I
Take each step together
Soundly, not silently.
Now, my mirror and I
Are at ease with each other-
Our fingers only still bloodied
From repairing the likeness
Of my shattered reflection.
I’m still not whole.
My mirror will
Always
Be missing pieces
Broken off somewhere
Down the roads
I’ve left behind.

I’ve just learned to make the most of It.
© Alex Grimm  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: outpace, depression, emotions, growing up,
Form: Free verse

Categories of Fishes Oh Wow

A puddle of fish. A fountain. A silver dish. Never try to outpace a whale as they are particularly good at breaststroke. And please don't slam the lid on the peanuts in a tin as they rather like to look out at their surroundings. Chasing the ninth knife is no better than taking the long way round and darting after the sculptured sword or sceptre. Do not dare to enter the mystic cavern of minotor if self is devoid. Cavities are prevalent in even the prickliest of plant. And upon five foot scimitars place ones heels. This will ensure that a minute prawn can receive the refreshing kiss of the ocean. But don't argue with a fifty foot bull. Ooh wow such towering prowess and protest not at shut curtains when it is merely necessary to pull the cords. Then toes are taken one by one. A military altercation in a giant crate. Hahahaha and as per usual pass the colourful plastercine personnal and the dishes driving the cars are very noisy. Buzz buzz buzz then. Bylaws are flaws. Chuck a pillow in a bin. Mood hone good. Moonshine misted minnion manifested mushy pea. How rather superb. And quaint. A view on a river taxi is neither a dome or a trapezium but nevertheless a patron in a patterned floor building is only existing to obtain a single sheet. Such is a pattern. Oblong nil. Opulence of an octagonal orifice. In offices. Official. Obnoxious. Ox. *** and now it is wise to set the sail above. *** fathomable fashionably fifth fakeries. *** jeopardisation. Xx 10 multiplied by heifer equals=? And now all sing %. *** in mollusc form. Monotonous. *** and shift designation to the winds. Wander wands wanderings warble *** transfer xxxx categories of fishes xx
Categories: outpace, beach,
Form:

Surreal Reality

Saw a thin fume of carbon
Climbing the dusk; 
Chains of children 
Marching down the hill
To mount to the fire
That blazed on the mountain
Within no blink
Torching the twilight.
Led the groaning villagers
Following the dark
Until I found myself alone.
Grassy the entrance
Brought me between graves
With fog blurring the lamps
Turning murky my way.
My memory plunges to a scene
I was being hunted
By the princess, I'm haunted
Night faded away 
Was on a railway trolley
On a fragile rail; 
Bridged upon an ocean
Trying to outpace a tiger
Huge as an elephant
Sent by the princess.
Dodged a crack on the track
Poor, the animal failed
And splash, the water spilled.
He begged for help
And I was confused again, 
Relating my dreams 
To my surreal reality.
Categories: outpace, confusion, dream, poetry, relationship,
Form: Prose Poetry

The Wanderer Returns By Ron Porter

Across the vastness of the silver sea of pain,
in a cave in the land of "I don't know",
a moonclad maiden waits and weeps,
embroidering her comely countenence
with copious corpulet crystalline tears
and, fears his ship won't make return

On the marble temple porch of devotion,
betwixt obsidian statues of dolphins at play,
a duo of disciples lean close in lovers' embrace,
and watch the lone ship run ahead of the storm.
On the waves of the bay, a full moon reflected
unspoken hopes that, in two breasts does burn

On the slopes of the mountain of nameless fear;
alone in the apex chamber of an alabaster spire.
He watches the waves from his window dark;
the Prince of Intentions marks the single sail-
a patch in the dark and, tries hard to intuit:
just how much did the wanderer learn?

Hard drives the wind now, rowers bend their backs;
they outpace the tempest but just barely so.
Blood-dark seas slowly grow furious and feral;
a lone  lean figure stans stiff at the prow.
So close now and again, yet so far from the shore, of
the hallowed home for which his heavy heart doth yearn.
 
Ror he said when he left he would come again;
nor be stayed by dire deed, death or disaster.
Now his resolve races with the storm's coming fury.
Only five more leagues but which will prove faster?
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: outpace, adventure, faith, fantasy, fear,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member New Pain of Loss

A wish, faint and fading, brings tears to eyes;
     a wish we know cannot come true.
Life suddenly can bring a dark surprise
     that breaks our human hearts in two,
and suffering for all begins anew.

His lovely, younger sister passed last year,
     nine months ago...pain still not healed.
Now, younger brother heading there...we fear
     prognosis for his passing, sealed...
the plunge into no hope...no cure...revealed.

My dearest husband, oldest of the three,
     says he, with death, should bear the curse...
be number one to leave the family;
     the order should have been reversed...
those oldest rose petals, from stems, fall first.

This fading wish to heal will not be met;
     new pain of loss he soon must face.
As oldest, left alone, he feels regret
     both siblings' time he will outpace...
the void within his soul, with pain, embrace.
         

Sandra M. Haight

~3rd Place~
Contest: Let Your Pen Drip
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Theme Chosen: 'a wish faint and fading'
Words to include:  suffering  plunge  rose  soul
Judged: 05/22/2018 

True...
Categories: outpace, brother, death, sister, sorrow,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Firearm Requiem

(In memory of the 19 children and two adults killed by gun violence in Uvalde, Texas on May 24, 2022…as well as the countless others who have and who will suffer similar fates.)

Firearm Requiem

By Mark Stucky
In the U.S., guns outnumber people
and sales outpace population growth.

Guns under beds.
Guns in closets.
Guns in cars.
Guns in trucks.
Guns in purses.
Guns in holsters.
Guns in forests.
Guns in offices.
Guns in classrooms.
Guns here.
Guns there.
Guns everywhere.
Guns pointing at them.
Guns pointing at me.
Guns pointing at you.

Why let so many fingers on so many triggers?
Why protect guns more than lives of children?
Why choose gun wrongs over gun laws?
Why is America the monarch of mass shootings?

Did gun rights come from Mt. Sinai,
written by God’s own fingers?
Did (not) guns (once again)
make America great(ly pained)?

When will we as a nation
collectively have courage
to save generational blood
and beat guns into plowshares?

(First published in Agape Review, 15 June 2022. See also my poems “Hate Vacuuming” and “Weapons of Wonder.”)
Categories: outpace, america, children, death, hate,
Form: Free verse

Freedom Belated

.

It was all a sorry mistake
   the judge and warden say,

      and so, after twenty years, 
      they finally set him free;

   strange, but freedom no longer
gladdens him in any way.



Leaning on a hoe, he gazes
   at the prison garden plots,

      sees in his tilted shadow 
      the past outpace the present,

   and what's left of the future
the past has overtaken!

.
Categories: outpace, life
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Summers' Day In Florida

The lake shimmers in the early breeze 
Dancing rivulets of light kissed by the rising sun,
Reflecting passing clouds hopscotching with such ease
It heralds a new day just now begun.

Observing its environs with majestic grace
An Ibis meanders daintily along waters’ edge,
Confident in its prowess to outpace
Its curved bill natures’ dancing dredge.

A ripple breaks the perfect glass
A little beak emerges from the deep,
Imbued with curiosity and sass
The snapping turtle juts its head to peep.

All the while majestic palms sway to and fro
Their fronds fanning summers’ air,
From high the watch the mornings’ show
Shielding those below from radiant glare.

A perfect harmony of sights and sounds
It bathes the soul, lightens the heart,
Natures’ beauty truly knows no bounds
Of which we we’re blessed to form a tiny part.
Categories: outpace, appreciation, beauty, bird, nature,
Form: Rhyme

Unstretched: My Mirror Adversary

My father always told me my strongest adversary was my own reflection.
In the mirror, It always shadowed me- my own personal monster I could never escape from.

I learned to hate my reflection.

The biggest problem was my mirror adversary grew with me.
I could never outpace It.
Never throw a harder punch, never out-think It,
Never do more than come to a draw with my own reflection-
I was not allowed to break the glass.

I learned to shatter myself instead.

When I got older, those things didn’t change.
Rather, I worked to outdo my own manifestation-
My shadow took the same steps as me
And I realized I had another opponent in the ring with me-
My thoughts turned darker with the lengthening of the hours.

I learned to start each day with longer strides.

Today, in my house, I kept the lights off-
In the darkness, I realized, there are no shadows.
There are no reflections. There was only ever me.

I learned how to start over.

Now, my shadow and I take each step together soundly, not silently.
Now, my mirror and I are at ease with each other-
Our fingers only still bloodied from repairing the likeness of my shattered reflection.
I’m still not whole.
My mirror will always be missing pieces broken off somewhere down the roads
I’ve left behind.

I’ve just learned to make the most of It.
© Alex Grimm  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: outpace, mirror,
Form: Free verse
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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