Best Palms Poems
For so long, I wondered my life ‘neath the palms
A tropical climax to gild golden years
Each breeze would embellish my thoughts in the sun
I never imagined a context of tears
Though beauty surrounds me in floral bouquet
In hues that are married to sunset and wine
I can’t help but ponder the path I have taken
When leaving behind everything that was mine
The memories are haunting as life lies before me
Still promising sunshine and skies always blue
But nowhere do catalogs count what is missing
Not even the sunrise through palm trees will do
Well, yes I could pack up and sail away homesick
And try and go back to the life that I knew
I guess I am living just what I was promised
I’m certainly having a day that is blue
Every now and again, that old homesick bug bites!
rain taunted the mood
one drop at a time
like sand through the hourglass
no snow in no man’s land
only poured out
on top of decrepit heads
with expectations over
said heads
it’s snowing too deep
my knees are weak
where is the honor
of contentment
when buried six feet under
the flood…
I float above the fray
holding my hands out
as oil fills my cups -
my palms wounded in battle,
H I S
I’m forever HIS
I am content
oil and water don’t mix
the Holy Spirit wins
On a humble donkey he once rode
Thunderous crowds by the road
Liberation they craved or
A salvation he gave forth
He rides into Jerusalem once more
With no glare from two thousand years ago
Fear has pulled back praisers out of his path
There was no red carpet but marks of an invisible wrath
On this Sunday, palms of praise are not seen
The stones could not sing along to any hymn
Only sounds of the clopping are heard
The King rode on to the fate ahead
A lone conqueror of sin and damnation
He rides to war without a shield or ammunition
With praise subdued by fear, he still rides to his crucifixion
To die and rise again to save the world from a contagion
Just shy of eighteen,
A girl with glistening eyes of dark chestnuts
Complimenting deep umber hair.
Observes life as it passes by minutes.
The classmate who is genuinely funny.
Her laugh echoes,
Etching its sound into minds of anyone who listens
A girl who lights up a room, remembered with halos.
Memories with friends and family now irreplaceable
Filled with laughter and love.
Living in the moment thinking “that could never happen to us”
Social media posts suddenly ending in a broken heart and dove.
A girl who had ambitions and a bright future,
Dreaming of her kids’ gender and names.
Twin boys, Jayden and Jordan
Growing up, playing with flames.
A normal sleepover with friends
On a cold January evening.
Filled with nothing but happiness
Unknowing of the events to take place the next morning
Guilt finding those who were there.
Wondering if something could have been done
Before the girl who had the world at her palms got in her car.
But they were asleep and would wake up stunned.
For the one who had an impact on many
Would no longer be here in the physical.
Her memory stays strong in those who loved her
But a girl at a young age losing her life is unethical.
The life of the party
Except the party ended too soon.
The courteous, caring girl
Now somewhere near the moon.
The One Who Touched My Heart Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Under the stern, watchful superintendence
Of whispering palms on the white sand coast
Where a thousand strong bow to the breeze
And thousands more swing to the beat
Giriama dancers caress their kayambas
With bared breasts teasing the gathering
With bared chests beating the drums
Enhanced buttocks mesmerizing the palms
And semi-nude tourists wondering aloud
How this state of undress survived it all.
The waters of the ocean had receded
To eat grass, those in the know said
And would return in an hour or two
The sun had climbed above our heads
Fiercely defending its lofty position
As the coast dancers in seeming ease
Perhaps unafraid of the damning rays
Defied the heat in typical fashion
And dared the eager, curious visitors
To shake a leg, or break it trying!
Why can’t you just be evil? Like my mind
wants you to be: Unfaithful, shameful.
I want to hate you! But you’re too kind
and no matter you are always thankful
of me and my song of desperation
for pain and its un-winnable future.
I know! A heart’s betrayal may come
disguised as death bringing this return
to memory of past regret, unyielding
regret, this plan of me my only way out.
Understand unending and what may be.
Believe in the certainty of two hearts.
Trust in the flesh and the way it feels
on fingertips, lips... Trust love—it is real.
Reinvent, Reimagine, Revamp!
JustThatArchaicPoet Contest
Poem chose “Knock, Knock”
SPOONING WITH PARCHED PALMS
a banquet of butterflies flutter ~
by her seaswept hair so bonnie. ~
sunshine and freckles fly free from the sky, ~
illuminating blue eyes, ~
dotting her suntanned skin. ~
a sailboat serenely knocks against the chiseled shore. ~
tartan cloth passionately charmed with cheese and wine. ~
pink blushing beach, a twinkle in his smile wants more. ~
his teeth bright as teeming waves of love’s moon shine. ~
picnic at full thrust ~
naked footprints rake through sand ~
soft music spellbound ~
chantilly lips on blitzed neck ~
seaside spooning with parched palms ~
4/4/2018
It’s All About Four/Sponsor: Broken Wings
Crystalline, Kimo, Quatrain, Tanka forms
Twin Palms
In a pensive mood I walked downhill
Reflecting on the disappearing years
Wondering how many more autumns left
To enjoy the golden sun on his way home
Down the flaming hill-side.
I spread out my palm to catch
The messages of love sent
By my luminous-amorous lover.
My palm gilded as his light passed through it
The lines on my palm stood out
Like roads now deserted
For only a few loved travellers still enjoying
The scenic and peaceful landscape.
I clasped my fist to hold his fading golden light
Treasuring it in my kingdom
Of simple rustic joys.
I travelled down my long road
Remembering all the hands
Warm enough to hold mine
To lead me to reach my destiny.
The pine breeze softly whispered
'Open both your palms before your face
Permit his alpenglow through it to burnish your face'.
Smilingly I opened the tightened fist to free
The twinkling golden spark
I was holding onto a moment ago
And joined the other like twin palms spread out.
My romantic golden lover sailed down his gondola
His voice musically echoing in the valley
'With my light of love burning in your heart
Your hands have been warmed enough
For anyone to hold for a lifetime of joy'.
Balveen Cheema
November18, 2014
Contest:Any Poem Written This Week
Sponsor: Skat A
JACKIE OILY PALMS
I recall them days that i lived
at the east coast of Kenya
then a college boy
We lived at the hostels near customs
in a place near an animal orphanage
Hallers park- near Bombolulu town
Where coastal s loved to partake
sweet palm wine straight from
the palm trees all over the region
Me Georgie and Jackie
then best of buddies
went to try out the wine
Started out on the real wine
before they offered us 'cham'
claiming its oil from the palms
First taste i know its locally distilled spirits
very potent and lethal.. i edge my buddies off
but despite.. they decide to partake the spirit
back to the eatery Jackie now eating
from the dinning table apparently those
who partake palm oil don't need plates
Jackie following day too sick cant attend classes
we did-int tell him the secret that me and Georgie
threw up all we drank from our delicate stomachs
Brave Jackie held it in and Memo had to comfort him
..Sorry Jackie you have malaria fever and your so sick..hic..
we dint let go that twas the palm spirits haunting our Jackie
lewis k NYAGA
THE PALMS
As dawn child brings a new illumination
Among the palms are hints of gentle motion
Their fronds now stir in elegant activation
Like ladies with refinement: a devotion
Their fluent gestures smoothing interaction
Smiles bows and fans precluding all infraction
As day advances so increasing breeze
Lends greater life to trees and single boughs
The movement still of graceful bending ease
With strength and rhythm in their measures now
Our ladies pair with gallants to advance
The shapes and movements of a courtly dance
With each increase of wind, zephyr to gale
Their motions are more restless in reaction
'til branches thrash in protest at the travail
Separate or clinging daring final fraction
At the end they live the turmoil staying whole
And return to temper tranquil free of toll
Have these trees collective recall - eight days in history
They were spread with glad 'Hosannas!' to greet a King
But in less than a week to witness the tragic mystery
When darkness enveloped the land, and all hope took wing
Did they thrash and writhe to protest unjust, cruel inequity
Yet, the third day, stand in new hope and beauteous serenity
I would like to thank you for your visit.
I have removed these poems for a distant future book publication.
I believe we poets, can make a difference
in this world. We live in the 21st century,
we have tools( technology), we have our past, and imagination.
We just don't have the courage, because
I guess most are afraid to fail, to loose money.
All I have to say is we can't take money with us,
when we die. I also say hasn't mankind failed enough,
and isn't mankind worth the effort, our children is worth the effort..
Thank you, and my your God Bless you
John E WordSlinger
I followed the lines on the map of my hands
The ones I was born with, tattooed in bands
They never seem to make up their minds
Vertical lines meet horizontal ones in bind
Dark lines like boundaries starting to climb
Crisscrossing my life, my love, my mind
That long line of destiny running straight
between what was and what is now my fate
This map is but a handful of lines
Major lines like rivers flow in-between
With those little lines flowing into streams
They somehow stretch the distance and
then split apart
To form those bridges of life
helping us connect to our hearts
Lines entwined when we hold our hands together
And pray looking up at the sky who seems to wait
Maps throw up options with forks on the road
Slow and steady now I move with times load
The end I await, but cannot escape
In the center of my palm as I cup my hand
the swirling water engulfs me
Stealing the breath from my lungs
My map is open and dripping wet
Lying face up by my side
Leading me to heavens gate!
20.4.22
I feel the turn of fickle stars in my palms,
wrenching their way out,
challenging the ambition of a sinner's grasp.
It all falls loose;
sand at the feet of eternal eyes,
staring back into the shadows of memory.
Dreams struggle for breath,
suffer desperation, lack of color.
And in their whisper I squint like
an old man trying to find his way
back to the trail's head.
But in these woods I have no bearing;
no point of reference, only empty hands left wanting,
too arthritic to hold any sort of luster
or salt of tomorrow's promise.
And so, I am left to wait...
Suspect to the charm of a menacing horizon
that promises nothing but a burning reminder
of what I could not hold onto.
-James Kelley 2014, All Rights Reserved.
The palms, the peas, the protea too
Showing up the lilies and iris ever blue.
The gourds and the daisies growing so fine.
Nothing outshines fungi which walks a clear cut line.
Tens of thousands of plant species
Growing more readily with help of feces.
From bulbs or seeds, makes no diff,
Cover the ground in a giant jiff.
Florida
To live on sand where brown pelicans glide
And blue heron spear fish in shallow marsh
To watch egrets harvest insects that hide
in long hot summers that are sometimes harsh
Eyes of alligators pierce water's surface
and rattlesnakes lay silently in wait
This land of movement has a softer grace
and a natural beauty so innate
To stroll its white beaches, to feel a cool breeze
To sit under palms and watch ospreys fish
and see gold sunsets as life moves with ease
The time of the day you will never miss
Seeds from Queen Palms hang like grapes
And warmer wind blow across vast landscapes
12/28/16