Best Paralleled Poems
A first day on Soup is filled with much awe
The wonderful poems will make you smile
Easy is it to fall for all
Some enabled my mind, lingering a while
Just the few Soupers I mention here
Will blow you away with works of this year!
Janet Cervenka almost made us lust
When she penned a piece on Heavenly's bust
Marvelous is the diversity of Jan Allison
Such a dressed gem, and she's only blooming
Nandita then tells us that she's no Jan
Indeed her craft is paralleled by none
Man! the lyrics never cease to flow for Dave
So highly endowed with a skill many crave
You see, my first day on Soup I was greeted by SKAT
Who so humbly laid down the welcome mat
And if there exist a bond no man can put asunder
I have to say it's between SKAT and Linda
O! How can I forget 'Half of A Heart'
A Sara Kendrick special, such design and art!
Who better to mend our Broken Wings
Than the namesake with a quill in full swing
Yes Soupers always brighten my days
Place me in velds full of beautiful haze
And there I spot a Mystic Rose
Defined so uniquely like a Kim Nunez prose
From a consummation a lover was denied
To the hautiness of a lonely man's pride
Whatever we plan to glimpse or scoop
We tend to leave with more from Soup
Whatever the offerings of time may bring
Whatever song my heart chooses to sing
On life’s small pursuit I shall meditate
Elysian splendor around me, I appreciate
The simplicities of pastoral living unfurl
I’m graced in your stellar light, a cosmic pearl
Serene contemplation, moments well spent
A transcend of intellect, I pursue contentment
Humbled, a mochila drapes my shoulders
Now weightless, old tomes heavy as boulders
Once laden with Maslow's hierarchy of needs
The cause of sight itself as Plato laid the seeds
Streets of an unclean soulless city no more
Once blemished and ugly as a repellant eyesore
Until this vacant shell had found release,
acceptance paralleled an inner peace
A new perspective can only see the beauty
of the craftsmanship and the ingenuity
On this celestial hike I embrace “carpe diem”
A lesson learned in this hour spans a millennium
The power and value of each moment
however brief, I walk along as an exponent
Unfurling love that rids me of my emptiness
Colloquially speaking I have found happiness
Agape Love: An unconditional kind of charity love paralleled to Godly love;
Upon the healing balm of His gentle touch
the sound of a whispering meadow
fills my heart with hope;
He is the inspiration that drives my soul home
"Courage my love," someone breathes into my ear
as I try to figure out the prayers my mother taught me long ago;
She stands by my wheelchair and smiles a Mona Lisa smile
I don't know who she is but she smells like flowers of springtime
Gone are the passionate hours of my youth,
replaced by the placid thump of a nursing home life
I see reflected in her eyes, streams of living water but I don't know
neither her name nor her address, only the color of her compassionate eyes.
Date: April 21, 2021
Sponsor Name: Regina McIntosh
Contest Name: Agape
Sidewalks
We walked along the sidewalks
that paralleled the beach,
the ocean roaring in the distance
just beyond the soft sands,
an echo of all the waves
that have ever touched the shore,
beating the land
with a living vibration... of sound.
We slowed our pace,
and then stopped.
We were quiet together,
in awe...
of the moment,
that was at hand.
I looked into your eyes and knew
I was lost forever.
Only through loving you,
could I, can I,
ever hope to be found.
I want you,
I need you...
Please, be my wife.
Change my entire life
with your sweet answer
in only a moment,
with only one word,
to be heard...
repeated again and again
in my heart,
in my soul,
in my memory...
from this day until the last.
Our lot in life is now cast,
but not in clay or iron,
or even brass,
but gold,
inlaid in ivory fast.
Walk with me,
not ahead of me... or behind.
Walk with me all the way
from here until the end
of time.
From this day forward...
We will be as one,
in the morning sun,
long past the evening prayer
through the storms
of life both beautiful
and sometimes unfair.
We will also dance
together every night...
until the very last light
and then I will ask you again
in a soft whisper...
to be my wife.
And then I will sigh and say...
"You are the most beautiful woman
in every way... there can be,
that I can see.
I love you... Love, me"
...my reality ceases to run marigold flowers burn
Running along the green horizon
The earth, and every common ground,
Awesome to me just beautiful, hey...
Paralleled in celestial light,
Galaxies surround greys hues of purple brights;
thousands of aeons of yore;-
Churn planetary consignments birth born
O' northern star, my darling your northern skies
By night or day,
The things which I have seen in you
So black, purple, so blue now can see no more
7/24/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Some pin memories delicately
and precisely like butterflies.
I, however, use railroad spikes.
This morning was spent well,
walking along a high desert trail,
close to some old railroad tracks.
My sister had shown them to me yesterday.
I am looking for signs that I was ever here before
today.
A boot print, perhaps, to match with my own
today.
Some lightly crushed sticky poppies or some low
purple lupine or yellow cactus flowers to bring back
the remembered scraps of yesterday's conversations.
Note that spring has passed with a large ant mound, bigger than
yesterday. Did I really climb to the top of the rock outcrop
moments ago?
Looking North down the valley, sun at my back,
Arkansas rippling nearby, and I'm moving along the tracks now,
Paralleled by old fashioned telephone poles, so low to the ground,
pottery and glass connectors on each one sparkling in the early morning sun.
Memory take note! This could be a decent poem.
Old rusty metal parts everywhere piled haphazardly by a thousand repair
crews running these rails forty, fifty, eighty years ago.
Are there any still around to remember those days on the rails?
Making my way back to my niece's house that I left some hours ago
and I pick up one of the railroad spikes in my path.
I'll put it in a drawer next to the spike that I and my young son found
near to his dying grandmother's house some years ago.
I knew that we would never be back and I wanted him to remember
those times.
I mean to ask my mother when I get back to my niece's house if
her "Popdaddy" ever prospected these hills.
I imagine him coming out of the hills to share a cup of coffee
with the railroad repair crew some eighty years ago.
My mother fades in and out of consciousness, unable to connect
her random disjointed memories. Will she have an answer?
Or will she ask me again just who I am and
what part of her life was I.
Two spikes to mark the passing of two ladies
and myself.
I'll put them in a drawer together, and some time, someone,
perhaps a grandchild,
will ask about them,
and I'll say,
"You know, I picked them up somewhere,
I just don't know exactly where,
or why."
Dear, Window Panes
I admire your commitment
the way you position yourself to bring out the very best in others
you hold up frailty like a tiara on a newly crowned princess
as you align yourself
strategically
paralleled with others
your placement is impeccable
so please excuse the constant stares
but I see thru you
and I understated the pain that many over look
your crosses have been mistaken as masterpieces
when really it just shows your weakness
your goal is to fit in
but others adore your uniqueness
Its cold outside, but I continue to look in
Because I've seen your facade on winters eves
and you cant mask your tears when the rainfalls so easily
your rays speak to me
Saying help you break free
Because I understand your pains of being divided unequally
When I see your eyes,
I read one hundred and one Arabian nights,
When I see you, I see the shadow of Baghdadi genies,
I see the magical floating carpets...
Flying the sandy dune-like divine bullets,
Racing with stars and more...
Your light. Your radiant sparkling eyes paralleled,
With Aladdin's lamps and more,
Your light. Sided the ones in the sky,
With the comet and co, just when i see you,
When i see your hips and swing walk,
Tasting your deeps,
And caressing you and your Garden of Eden,
You're forbidden apples, mango-like,
Touching with style,
Your strawberry lips,
Your olive eyes,
Your Carobian, frizzy hair,
Your longer neck...
And kissing with tenderness,
Your crystal clear-like poll,
I must admit,
And confess to the living world and planet,
That your beauty and look worth keeping,
In esoteric lore-book,
Forever and more.
Beyond The Breakers
Out beyond the breakers
Far from all the takers
Who shattered all my dreams from coming true
The posers and fakers
The beaters and shakers
Who paralleled the shore with the Big Blue
I got through to the other side
I kept sailing every tide
Just in time to hoist up the moonrakers
And catch the wind, while heaving to
Out on the vast and azure blue...
Searching my true North...beyond the breakers.
2.3.2017©deborah burch
Rhyme
In wait of deliverance, life lingers ahead
Oblivious of what might lay instead
Impaled, in pain, in agonizing strain
Bereft of peace, life persists to drain
With desires unquenched, a life yet to be cherished
On the threshold of sanity, only nearly but perished
No want to live, no desire to die
The matter at hand was just to get by
Striving, as I must, to get through this moment
A savage ordeal of relentless torment
En route to oblivion, my eyes behold
The aura, valor, unseen, untold
To grant me salvation, my savior has come
The daunting magnificence, seen paralleled by none
A relief, to me, is the sight of my death
For conclusion to misery has finally cometh
With the shore of life now drifting away
To you, dear one, I have this to say
I do not ask you to mark my grave
To be remembered, my friend, is all that I crave
By M. Hussain Effendi
Circuitous circular departures cleverly Sequester and
embrace Inexpressible moments of time.
Reexamine status, prevent consciousness apathy,
fabricate and reflect acceptance of self.
precisely propose to expose fallaciously filtered
fantastical trickery touched theories.
Turn tasteless translucent tall tales into stable, sturdy,
structured strands and threads of reality.
Penniless pocketless Poets put the points paralleled
and placed above onto pure white pieces of paper.
Once they find the ramble in their role they carefully
command,Clever creative content to appear from thin vapor.
Amusement, bemusement, a resplendent daring drawn
out dark dance down a solitary diabolical descent.
Lingering Layers let love live in a finely spun web of
lazy, lofty, lyrical linguistic letters; lost lurking spiders cant
reach the heights that sadness fled.
Poets are pros, pronounced proponents, that precisely
reconstruct a feelings components that fails to leave any
audience in a stoic state of stoney discontent.....
Though they tirelessly endeavor to gain a fans approval
and respect, they fail in fortunes favor.
Yet each day they commit make their art
when most would be right to quit.
Anyone can become a pro poet,
you can tell we are devoted, though it should be noted
if that's the readers intent, not a paid pro among us can
come close to turning our
thoughts into rent!
White roses grew in my mouth
Drunk in ambrosial poetries
Craving for love from a butterfly
'til perpetual darkness.
Argentine crepuscule stole my happiness
Caliginous skies swallowed my entity
Still waiting for her to come
Seems I have to wait 'til morning sun
When will you come butterfly?
The flowers are dying, still I haven't seen you
Slowly losing my ephemeral hope
What is love without the sun?
Petals furled, leaves dried
Flowers in my mouth evanesce per hue
Shade after shade, I learned to forget
To end this perennial blue.
Leisurely accepted the things that I shouldn't
Heart just closed that once was open
Forgot and moved on, learned stop hoping
When eyes have noticed that she is coming.
.
..
...
..
.
.
.
~ Me, 4 foster families adopted at 8,
a want to be perfectionist, creative athlete angry
torn apart, bewildered and alone, missed the
full college ride, the Olympics. ~
A.D.D., could not concentrate in school.
Drunken father, "they called Him "Frosty""
dedicated athlete, self centered-immature,
just like me lost his family, saw him when
last... he was 9 and a half years sober. ~
My life, I found out some years later, paralleled
his. Him a gymnast, me a diver, we even stayed
in the same room, bed, at the three quarter house.
Mom, God-bless-her-soul, supposed heroin addict,
died in a garage of asphyxiation, and my heart,
still-burns, hurts for-her... since she passed
I still wander how what way... and why.
Brother son of William, schizophrenic
never adopted, RAGE-AHOLIC, hated His
father for what he did to his family and
mother, and was acrimonious to the
end, was dying last I heard. Could
not or would not forgive him. I
pray though that if and before
he passed, that he did.
2nd youngest Sister, adopted, has
since past at the age of 6 and one
half, rare form of emphysema.
Her death hurts me most.
Youngest Sister adopted a
beautiful likeness, almost an
exact image of her Sister, Bi-
polar, sits in front of a window
in a rocking chair. Refuses to
take her Meds.
Claims herself the worst mother,
still keeps having kids, and though he
claims it Biblical I'm sure, and though
I never met him, I question the motives
of her husband. Though probably I am wrong.
I could go on... but I believe you have the idea.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aueJ01JByfY
http://allpoetry.com/ban/show/6960
The carriage is full of seats
Only one traveler is in the queue
"This is a quiet carriage"
The leader says so
No one wants to be quiet
When traveling toward goals
Everyone has to fly
Along the paralleled roads
Greetings spread everywhere
No shadows of the lives could be shown
When your heart feels warmed up
Should it meet simple souls?
Natalie has been to five Paralympics, including Rio,
And recently took the bronze at World Powerlifting,
In Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia 2016, IPC World Cup -
It paralleled her Glasgow silver, Commonwealths.
She lifts in the 61kg class, but in Malaysia lifted a PB
Of 98kg. In 2013 at the Euros, Russia, she won silver,
And in 2015 at the Euros in Hungary she won bronze.
She’s competed longer than any other in powerlifting.
After finishing sixth at Rio she remarked: “I’m happy
with how I've done, I was hoping to get 3 good lifts
but just missed out on my 2nd. I'm pleased to clear
93kg, overall it was an amazing atmosphere, brilliant.”