Best Parks Poems
Crackling of clouds, zigzag of light.
Puzzling the parks, jigsaw of sight.
A Summer storm, finding a spark.
Darkness of green and humid bark.
Adventure’s out, it’s boredom’s hymn.
Travel stories filled to the brim.
Not quite exciting as an ark -
Darkness of green and humid bark.
Balloons looming, red, white, and blue.
Will this cutout give me a clue?
Birds don’t chirrup, outside is stark.
Darkness of green and humid bark.
Little by little filling day.
Scrutinizing pieces in play.
Too quiet, whistling for lark.
Darkness of green and humid bark.
These fingers and eyes sharp’ning skill.
My adrenaline needs refill.
Need to find, national landmark,
Darkness of green and humid bark.
Rosa Louise Parks
refused to give up her seat
“First Lady of Civil Rights”
back in fifty-five
civil disobedience
‘fore Martin Luther King’s time
courageous Rosa
kept her seat and caused a stir
faith told her she was right
created equal
in the colorblind eyes
of a Lord who loves mankind
desegregation
took decades to accomplish --
a Maverick led the way
*Entry for Cyndi’s "Mavericks" contest
This choka was tweaked by having six instead of seven syllables in the second line of the third verse.
Rosa Louise Parks (February 4, 1913 – October 24, 2005) An African American, Parks refused to obey a Montgomery, Alabama bus driver’s order that she give up her seat to make room for a white passenger. Congress bestowed upon her the title “First Lady of Civil Rights.”
Rosa Parks
Would have been a hundred
Were she alive today
Human beings of any colour
would gladly let her sit
Anywhere on the bus
With the possible exception
Of the driver's seat
Remembering Rosa Parks
By Elton Camp
Well over a half-century has now passed
Since she resisted discrimination at last
To the back of the bus she refused to move
One person makes a difference she did prove
Ms Parks refused to let herself be disrespected
And didn’t respond as racial bigots expected
Those officials who tried it were surprised
When the civil rights movement it galvanized
President Obama went and sat in her seat
In recognition of the courage of her feat
He well might not be where he is today
If Rosa Parks hadn’t acted in that way
water parks are fun
water slides and wild wave pools
i will go today
Rosa Louise McCauley Parks
On December 1, 1955 She lit up a huge spark
She refused to give up her seat that day on the bus
Instead, she proudly sat, made faces and ignored the fuss
Rosa Louise McCauley Parks (1913 – 2005) was an African American civil right’s activist and seamstress whom the U.S. Congress dubbed the “Mother of the Modern-Day Civil Rights Movement”.Parks is famous for her refusal on 1 December 1955, to obey bus driver James Blake’s demand that she relinquish her seat to a white man. Her subsequent arrest and trial for this act of civil disobedience triggered the Montgomery Bus Boycott, one of the largest and most successful mass movements against racial segregation in history, and launched Martin Luther King, Jr., one of the organizers of the boycott, to the forefront of the civil rights movement. Her role in American history earned her an iconic status in American culture, and her actions have left an enduring legacy for civil rights movements around the world. (From wikipedia)
So graceful and kind
So honest and true
While she sat down for me
She stood up for you
Only by refusing to move
When ordered to
She paid the price
And satisfied our dues.
Stubborn refusal by Rosa Parks
to up from her bus seat set off sparks...
that ignited flames of Civil Rights movement.
'Twas a legendary, watershed moment!
Submitted for...
Clerihew Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
Date written: 12/18/2020
Serene in sweet repose, the scented Rose,
(With each and every velvet valley bare)
Will often offer pleasure's perfect pose;
Seductive Roses pleasure everywhere.
Sharp beauty rages in the Roses' red,
So darkly deep their polished petals bloom.
Yet white is bright within the garden bed,
While it protects the purple Rose of gloom.
And yellow is pastel just like the sun,
It winks and waves at one small Rose in back.
The Rose that fought the fight till freedom won;
A single Rose that stood alone and black.
Now wisdom walks with rainbow Roses seen
To teach each Rose to reach each human being.
She sits in her old four door car
Jittery as a stick shift
All day every day
An old fashion woman
Smoking a pack of Camels
With all the windows rolled up
Goldfish
Staring out
Blowing bubbles in her dirty bowl
To the trolling park people
Who step from their slick driverless SUVs
Into the woods
With their dogs properly leashed
If only they knew
The poetry she was writing
Rhymes flicked away
To her spy ashtray
Who are they
Anyway?
No better than her
As she
Hides
From her lost job gonner kids and Fentanyl bibs
Q will show her the way
She ain’t so alone
With her hours of boredom
And Trump Putin and Xi
Khamenei
Saved like treasure
In her crumpled hands
She’s noting the march of our deaths
Every day
Out here in the open
Not the other way around
As I had intended for this poem
There’ll be a time
Soon
When she unleashes her door
And gets out
Breathes the same air
Armed by the unholy words
Take back what is yours.
Children play on the stumps of the fallen giants, mocked in death by the glitter of disco lights and the raucous cheers of drunks.
Asphalt long melted round their dead roots where once they hovered over what is today the RV dump station, the lit restrooms, and every car and truck that ever was.
They stood tall and strong and bright in the sun.
Ancient even long ago.
Relics of bygone time.
Even so long ago.
The Ranger will tell you some nights, around a warm fire, on wooden stools, all about it.
Once there were giant trees even here.
They were alive.
Then men came.
Charged with building a civilization.
Powered by smoky manifest destiny
they toppled the great giants
to build banks, message parlors, and prisons.
In their guilt and because of the rage of others, people cordoned off parks where the giants are to be left alone to entertain the children of their enemies.
We drive to them in our shiny cars and carve our lover's names in them.
We record their many moods unknowingly in the digital memories of our smart phones, and share these images in our favorite social medium.
We buy t-shirts at the Visitor Center and listen to advice on which of the many paved roads we might travel to see them best from our car windows as we drive by on our way to lunch.
Back at camp the smoke of many fires makes it difficult to breathe.
The noises of auto camping drown our memories of ancient majesty and remind us it's time to cook a real campers dinner and have some wine before bed.
An Assault On All That Is Sacred And Beautiful
Standing by the canyon rim
The couple embrace
“How beautiful, still”
Are their last words
*
Two old men
With tears in their eyes
Look out over the canyon
Kicking the dirt hard
*
A boy holds tight
His father's hand
As they watch
The flight of an eagle
*
A girl with
Arm around
Her mother's waist
Reads the posted sign
*
The Department of Interior is no more
We apologize on behalf
Of all that was once
Sacred and Beautiful in our World
*
we walk and talk
i take them out
they only love
one rout
and make a start
they love the park
when i small
i had a ball
i ways did
yes
PARKS OR FOR KIDS
we walk and talk
i take them out
they only love
one rout
and make a start
they love the park
when i small
i had a ball
i ways did
yes
PARKS OR FOR KIDS
lush greens and sand traps~ golfer's summer
AP: Honorable Mention 2025