Best Pasting Poems
Why do we do what we do?
Writing words day after day
Unsure if anyone will read them
If they will get the message we tried to say
A million words with many meanings
Thrown together in our language
How will we know the right ones?
They ones which say what we want to say
Just one word, one syllable, one letter
Out of the place where it should be
The meaning could be lost
We struggle through endless hours
Wondering and writing
Cutting and pasting words and lines
Then in a miraculous moment
It happens
The words are right
The syllables are right
Each and every letter is right
After all the pain and stress
Our child is born
We post in on-line
Publish it in a book
We send our child out into the world
And no one reads it
she’s a faithful friend
a mentor, a confidant
a trusted teacher
of poetry forms
loyal, loving me for me
with no conditions...
on one occasion
she set aside precious time
to study ALL of my work
yes, from first to last
offering kind opinions
on what she thought were my best...
she loathes the lazy
practice of copy/pasting
bland, boring comments
or: ‘Nice work! Love it! Congrats!’
(short but not so very sweet)
enough already!
she’s funny and fun
honorable and honest
sometimes brutally...
(she knows I need it)
confidence sans cockiness
now THAT’S a lady...
8/14/2014
Everyone would say, did you hear?
She's the one
She's too young
How irresponsible
Wearing smiles upon their faces,
pasting labels on her back
Her sullied reputation,
a newborn in her pack
How impossible
Everyone would say did you know that he has gone?
Mistakes she made, she'll be known to fail
Mistakes she made, will be known by all
Mistakes he made.......... well boys are boys
she made her bed, she had a choice
Every voice will say, oh well......
Everyone will say
Her choice, her bed, she made her hell
Who's left to blame? Her fault, her shame, her belly swells
What was his name? Well.....shame, shame, shame
She hears the words
She holds them close
She holds the babe that she will bear
She bears the babe that she'll adore
Bittersweet, was yesterday,
Regret, they say, she'll toss away
A babe she bore......she holds with pride
This motherhood, she will not fail
Who once was frail.....she'll take in stride
And motherhood, she wears it well
............................................................
5/14/15 For Deb's Contest: Tam Lin
OK, it's about that time.
It's time for me to annoy P D in rhyme.
Now what can I annoy Pd about this time?
P D broke this heart of mine.
P D made a fool out of me.
Sweet Lovable lunatic theKidster, Billy.
P D convinced me that I truly hurt P D
so I wrote P D a message of sincere apology.
and now Pd's posting (pasting) it everywhere for everyone to read and see.
P D's going all out to not crush, but crucify me.
P D's going to show all in the world to read and see...
that theKidster, aka Billy
is really just a big sometimes over sensitive big pussy.
Go on PD. Defecate on me. The whole world ddefecates on me my little poet destroyer PD.
Your tiny little turd won't make a difference to me.
Continued in Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=223751
I like to buy different magazines
And bring them to my home
Cut out all the faces
And replace them with my own
I always look so happy
In other peoples lives
I can be the best of husbands
Along side the best of wives
It all depends on my mood
On any given day
I could be hang gliding in the South Pacific
Or hiking the hills of Mandalay
On a beach in Florida
With perfect kids flying a kite
At a Hollywood premier
My face on any star I like
I used to lead a boring life
As I sat around at home
Now pasting my face in different magazines
I go and do anything I want
I just purchased NASA monthly
Dare I go to the moon
If they picture two astronauts together
You know I'd go with you
There's this island magazine I've been saving
From a travel agency
Can't wait to paste my face out swimming
In the bluest of the bluest seas
I'll flip through all the pages
Till I come up with the perfect tan
On top of the perfect body
Then I will be the perfect man
It's not always fun and games
I do have a serious side
When I paste my face onto orphans or the homeless
Then wet the pages as I cry
There's so many different things I do
Depends on the mood and the magazine
What peaks my interest at the store that day
And who it is I'd like to be
Thoughts melt and distil under a green/blue flame,
Swirling down, separated out and mixed.
If you’ve seen it, it’s broken;
If you’ve heard it, it’s shredded;
If you’ve read it, it’s rewritten.
It's really quite unlikely to be fixed.
You’re cutting up holiday snaps
and pasting them onto card.
And you’re scrambling madly
to hide the mess on the floor
As your mum yells for cleanliness
From behind your bedroom door.
3001 puzzle pieces and you’re jamming them together,
No wonder your imagination is at the end of its tether.
You’ve got two pieces that are sun-kissed clouds
“What comes… what comes next?”
You’ve got two roots in the soil
“What comes… what comes next?”
Your mother is sitting in the hall
With a scarf tied round her neck,
Her back pressed up against the wall
As she deals the jigsaw deck.
3001 pieces in her hands,
Mixed with childhood drawings
And grains of sand.
She lays out seven in a line,
Which you place between the two and two.
“Oh, but that and that won’t rhyme!”
“Don’t you think that this one will just do?”
And your father’s disapproving in the kitchen,
“You don’t need no occult nonsense,
Or a system to order out your brain”
He just stands there “focussed”
Over a pot on a blue/green flame,
Subconsciously mumbling while stooped,
“Look here Son, look, I’m making poa-tery soup.”
But you would never tell him that,
Just like you’ll never be finished, ever.
No-one ever is
Even if they know they’re doing it or not.
My grandfather died last week,
The sourest stuck-in-a-rut-of-a-man
That you’re ever going to meet.
The diagnosing doctors were in for a treat.
They said that there was something wrong there,
Something wrong with his brain,
That there was something strange there
Fundamentally, main.
They said that he died - after scans - in a cubicle stall,
When his brain haemorrhaged and cracked open,
And jigsaw pieces piled up against the wall.
A broken thought holds meaning
Even though its not completed
A broken dream shines, envisaging
Even though its not really alive
A broken smile brings a sweetness
Even though its not always smiling
A broken tear falls from the soul
Even though its not filled with hope
A broken heart shares a silent light,
Even though it isn’t softly glowing…
Like candlelight, with assurance, knowing
That there is nothing impossible in life…
Even the broken can pick up the pieces,
Pouring out the glue of insight and beauty,
Filling the mind with a sense of belonging,
Soothing away the doubts with sincerity,
A knowing that love will find a way to bring…
Joy and truth, pasting the feelings together
With a promise of the song who lasts forever,
The song of kindness, the song so gentle …
It brings the broken a reminder that life is filled
With brokenness, but it can be mended…
By a love who is stirred to life by the hand who
Brings the best gift, the spirit who lifts hearts
So they always believe, they always see…
The meaning beneath being broken is spoken
In the prayer that changes darkness to light,
The promise of a love that gives peace to the night,
The miracle of a Savior who never grows old,
The wonder and the joy, the peace and the hope
Forever in the soul of those who know He is alive
And, because of Him, the broken can be restored,
The heart that bleeds can fulfill every dream,
The soul that is afraid is reminded – He is brave!
And amazed by the gift of His saving grace, the beautiful
Written on the face of the heart who hears His music
And feels sure that He is the answer to every yearning,
He is the glue that promises the spirit it will never die
Because of His goodness, His blessing, His sacrifice –
He is my heart’s healing, my soul’s faith, my spirit’s thanks!
With a broken smile, a broken dream, a broken heart
I hold the key to paradise – it comes to life despite the flaw
That leaves its meaning beneath the broken smile, the broken
Know that it is in the brokenness that He finds pure gold,
The gift to those who sincerely believe – He can and will fix anything!
Nearly like smoke, the morning mist
Erases the night with all it’s laughter, shy
As the ridges hiding in the vapors
Foggy mountain morning embraces the leaves
Coated in dewy moods, shining like last night’s moon,
Wistful and warm, inviting the morning sun
Who can dry away the petals, pasting
Silky green with only the remembrance of the tree
Reflected in the shadows of a moon
Who has poured out its beauty and dropped
Behind the tempting touch of pastel
Hues, summer breathing her caress
Over the moments of blue, skies so blue
They seem to echo inspiration, soothing, beautiful
The kiss of a lover could never be more fragile
Or more attractive than this – the morning,
With all its magnificent thoughts blessing away
The lost and aching dark…
This is the storybook wedding of hope and faith
Hope lived in the stars, but gave herself away
To the faith in the clouds, who listen to dawn’s breathless
Entrance, her love for the light who leads the way
Into every present hope…
This is the endless miracle – the life
Hope who resides in timeless brilliance
Never giving up or giving in… always alive,
Like the gentle in the wind, like the love that brings her back
Again and again – eternally sending the gift that never ends,
The gift of forever.. with the most beautiful Savior!
Husband to wife:
I ate the yogurt
That you saved in the refrigerator
You know the expensive one with the strawberry preserves
Which you like to have in the morning
I apologize but I couldn’t help myself
It was delicious and the strawberries
Were so sweet and so cold.
Wife to husband:
I found your scribbly note
On the counter with all the bills
That need to be paid.
I’m glad you liked
The yogurt
Now maybe you will change your diet
And stop eating greasy food.
Pasting the note on the refrigerator door
She smiles to herself
Thank God he didn’t look any further
And find the others
Filled with strawberries and blueberries
Hidden between the celery and carrots
He would have eaten them all
And left none for me.
Parting Impressions
Baed on My Photo Poem which can be seen on my Twitter
URL
https://twitter.com/kapoor_/status/246124905899364352/photo/1
And on World Art foundation by copying and pasting following URL
http://wafglobal.ning.com/photo/golden-rays-of-sun?context=user
Parting Impressions
O, Golden rays of returning Sun
You are leaving your parting impressions
On these lovely yellow and dark brown clouds
While softly touching their lips
By the aroma of your enchanting lights
And saying to them a lasting Good bye.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 14092012
PASTING PASSION ON PANORAMA
I love to see my most precious pearly passion
to be close to you
reflected in Nature with rapture.
Watching frigid fountain from rigid mountain cascading in opulence
splashing, thrashing, gurgling on pebbles rumbling.
Golden yellow sunflower blooms blossoms frolic cheerful
smiles at Sun, nods head, greets butterfly to kiss.
Darling! We exchange delighted glances, playing with restless fingers.
Sweetest kiss, the best award on closest amorous touch.
Roaming on romantic aroma in rim of stream of dream.
Our whispers harmonizing on rustle of leaves and murmur of breeze.
Dear, you are dear gem: Light of my mind not light but bright to reflect.
Prompt hesitant imprisoned feelings fly free on outdoor romance.
Feel sole desire of my soul: Fill your heart: Don’t hurt my ego.
Bubbling blood in flood troubling wobbling heart n trembling pulses.
Present pleasure drops like dew drops as present on rose petals.
Loitering in garden of Eden, I wish to wander like Romeo.
My emerald emotion, crimson passion, lavender love adorns you in elegance.
I know, I love you most and I love most to know you.
I long to live for you and determined to die for you.
My lust ablaze on flame in cool calm quiet ambient.
Sheen Sun seen to shine, sure to set on same schedule
with promise of rise on next dawn with vivacious vigor: No surprise.
My passion for you is blended in Joy of Nature.
09/11/18
Contest by Regina McIntosh
NATURE’S HUGH ANCIENT LANDSCAPE
OF GREAT GREEN FOREST GROWTHS,
MEANDERING MULTI PURPLE MOUNTAINS
AND COOL CLEAR WATERS
UNDER A BABY BLUE CADILLAC SKY
WITH KIDNEY SHAPED WHITE AND PINK
COTTON CLOUD FORMATIONS
AND HEAVENLY BODIES SPOTTED AFAR
WE CONTINUE TO TRY TO IMPROVE YOU
CUTTING AND PASTING
ON YOUR SURFACES
LIKE AN OUT OF CONTROL PHOTOSHOP COLLAGE
BUILDINGS, INDUSTRY AND MAN-MADE IMPROVEMENTS
CURVING BLACK ASPHALT ROADS
WITH WHITE STRIPES DOWN THEIR CENTERS
BILL BOARDS AND WARNING SIGNS
UNTIL YOU ARE ALL GONE
AND WE NEED TO MAKE MORE WAR
OR DO MORE SHOPPING ON THE INTERNET
FOR SOMETHING MORE TO DO
UNTIL WE ARE ALL GONE
AND NATURE’S HUGH ANCIENT LANDSCAPE
OF GREAT GREEN FOREST GROWTHS,
MEANDERING MULTI PURPLE MOUNTAINS
AND COOL CLEAR WATERS RETURN AGAIN
UNTIL THE NEXT BIG BANG
Cut from the quarry of life,
block by block by block
towed to haloed ground
cut and pasting
pyramids of the mind
time after
time after
time....
To open a seam in the sky,
heart in the king's chamber
the soul in the queens
great lost limestone eyes
peering into the afterlife,
eating the gaze of God
on heaven's horizon
but more often than not,
nothing is there
but a
great
great
great wicker chair,
the beast lounging beneath
firecrackers in powdered eyes,
igniting the burning reel
of a million lost lives
time after
time after
time.
?Time We Are Always Wasting
Do you think that I would be teasing;
God brings bright minds together for a reason
Not just to be passed up or simply ignored
But our magnificent minds be further explored.
Much more further analysis we will need
Compare the Apostles with Nicene Creed
When I thought about and did further peruse
Which one would be the very best to use.
Of many songs which shall we sin today
Should I close my eyes when I begin to pray?
Or both of my eyes on others must be gluing
So I can see and understand what they are doing.
Why should to myself all of my poems I keep
On all of my poems lie down on and then sleep
Yet still be responsible person I am being
With great ideas well worth hearing and seeing.
Before I press on or present you with the rest
Must admit by God I have been greatly blessed
Instead of me taking a pounding and a pasting
We better get busy and our time is a wasting.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
and Member of St. James Vestry
Here my story begins,
here I stand,
facing the world all alone;
It all began with one lady he ladied,
One boy she boyded and sugared,
Just to finish in the net of Mr. Death.
Hah!
How painful it is,
How hurt it is for the poor boy.
Meanwhile he stood by their graves,
Mourning and weeping,
Cursing the world,
And doubting the Lord His God,
Having no one to shade the tears with,
To neither sympathize nor comfort.
The community sad pointing accusing fingers here and there,
Blaming the uncle and aunt,
Speaking of nothing other than slow poison and witch craft,
One after the other murmured in his belly,
Pasting sympathious faces,
But ignoring the happened,
Few weeks after the happened,
Came Doctor Okiriki James,
Native of the community, son of the soil
HIV/AIDS is a reality,
Make your HIV/AIDS test
In order to know your status,
Those were his words
As he moved round the village,
Whispering on his karaka bicycle;
It was spoken by men, women and children
Sand as many times as possible
Over the radio and shown on the T.V.
With the ingenuous aid
Of Doctor Okiriki James,
The orphan went in for an HIV/AIDS test.
Hellas!
You are HIV positive,
But that’s not the end of life.
With this status
You are still capable of doing
A lot of things…
Yes,
Words of comfort
And advice,
What have I done to deserve all these?
What curse?
In which world am I found?
The poor boy questioned,
Murmured
And doubted the future,
If only his parents knew,
If only he knew and talked to them,
If only,
Doctor he doctored,
Son the doctor answered,
What should I do?
First you have to know there is no cure for HIV/AIDS,
But you can take anti-retro viral drugs
To slow down its destruction of the immune system,
Take good care of your self,
Eat well, especially fruits
For the body needs them.
Don’t get into
Any unprotected sex with any one
And don’t expose objects stained with your blood.
Doctor he doctored again,
Thanks very much,
I have heard you and I will do as you say...