Best Pay Heed Poems
Dwell not, O soul, on yesterday,
on sorrows past and gone -
the sketch you drew so long ago,
today may be redrawn.
Dwell not upon tomorrow's wars,
nor borrow from their pain -
that energy you need today
let not your worries drain.
Dwell not, O heart, on failures past
though each one left its scar -
rich lessons you have learned have forged
the person you now are.
Dwell not upon your victories,
for those shall also pass -
let not your pride construct a shrine
to trophies made of glass.
Dwell not, O soul, on others' gain
nor envy those with much -
contentment, paired with gratitude,
brings peace no wealth can touch.
Dwell not on anyone's downfall
as though it lifted up
your own estate; we're siblings all
and drink from the same cup.
So what is left, O soul - where does
the prudent soul pay heed?
Become less of a taker
always give to those in need.
Which seeds are we to plant
upon this plot of ground we plow?
Sow seeds of love, be brave, and dwell
in the eternal now.
Written 6 Dec 2020
A POEM MADE UP OF CLICHES
At Poetry Soup we're admonished
Never to use cliches
They provide us an extensive list
For the error of our ways
But one thing you can rely on
Is people just don't pay heed
Like a dog gnawing a ham bone
Poets write stuff unfitten to read
Over and over again
I traverse the road less traveled
No one understands me
I feel worn to a frazzle
When all is said and done
I'll just wish upon a star
Or perhaps I'll follow the sun
And hope I don't go too far
Since fools rush in
Where angels fear to trod
And people get under my skin
I'll go by the grace of God
When life takes an unexpected twist
And you're plagued by a multitude of sin
Not making money hand over fist
Misery loves company and broken hearts never mend
You have reached the end of your rope
Tired of waiting for your ship to come in
Don't sit around and mope
'Cause you have fences to mend
Curtis Moorman
30 November 2018
To Kiss Each Morn, Color Outside The Lines
Once each day brought, only torturous pain
as dull axe, slow cutting against hard grain
Dawn cast shadows that this life did so curse
making me as a rock, in pauper's purse
Yet poetic soul swore to one day heal
to again dance well and truest love feel
To climb a tall mountain and take new flight
light hope's candles, bath in beautiful sight.
As a reborn soul, watch flowers soft blow
await midnight moon, see its wondrous glow
Be a true gift to family and friends
gaze above while making sincere amends
Hear music that sweetest dreams so oft play
humbly bow my head as I kneel to pray
Enjoy echoes of morn's first rooster crow
beg again a shot from Cupid's love bow.
Taste the wine of love and its first soft kiss
recall her smile and all of her I miss
Walk again forested path to our lake
repeat our youthful vows, never forsake
Romance that gave treasures and immense joy
hold firm to a love, life can not destroy
To kiss each morn, color outside the lines
stay on faithful path, pay heed to pure signs.
Robert J. Lindley, 8-13-2019
Rhyme, ( Love, Romance And Greater Wisdom Once Found )
By robertjlindley
© 2019 robertjlindley (All rights reserved)
QUOTE:
“The moon is a loyal companion.
It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast,
knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever
just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself.
Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light.
The moon understands what it means to be human.
Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”
? Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Walk I, Naked Under Pallid New Moons
I that crieth with dawn's falling dew
Accuser of this dark world and its hate
Walk I, naked under pallid new moons
With lingering hunger, nothing can sate
As warrior, as a lover now stone-blind
A dying soul, bleeding with ink and pen
Dreams, myself in imaginative realms
Away from this world full of darkest sin
This heart and soul, each crying out for more
And knowing Time will soon end this decay
A ship never finding a safe harbor
A ghost of dead dreams, now morbidly gray
Pay heed, if thy soul seeketh Love's pure kiss....
For tis' Light and Truth that bringeth sweet bliss....
Robert J. Lindley, 1-15-2020
Sonnet, ( As Whispering Wind Swirls About, To Speak )
( A pen allowed to such deep truth sing )
Note:
Hold tight the moments that life gives
the ecstasy of remembrances of sweet romance
for day comes in which more in past one lives
the more one sees that most of life is long-lost chance....
Tears
(for A, I shed)
When I herd these tribes and fashion cities
With my words, you are what's missing.
- Mookie Katigbak, The Proxy Eros
I cast a brief look at you many a time,
Partly considering your noonday shadow’s silhouette a singular move far
As you pay heed in discreet agony to the old Angelus' chewed verses
and secrecy.
This dust-laden jalousie classroom spares me to steal quite a glance of you--
Trussed up in your chair, chin nesting on left palm
Time and again as against your emptiness.
Religious as your hair finger- combed in place all too often.
Seedless to say, before you’ll be hand in hand with your lover,
Whose teeth are those of metals,
On the following street to reach your home in Gusa ,
Let me tell you my itch:
If it is a misdeed that I travel from one antinomy to another,
Perhaps, you are the credo and the gospel on top of which
Of what I cannot write nor cite in the words of my poetics:
Drunk diurnal sobrieties, c(r)ooked metaphors
And jabberwockies, each verb I turn into flesh: darling, these are not
You.
If by chance, you’d come to notice the process
Of what I do and do all the time
Without my consent or other of a conscious effort,
Listen:
You are these paled viscid extracts
Resting lightly astride my lashes that are sure
Warmer than a breath and are yet to trickle down my cheeks.
*Gusa - A place in Cagayan de Oro City , Southern Philippines
I have walked past the mirror so many times,
God, I cannot believe what I see.
I once was a painter of great songs and rhymes,
Brushing rainbows and drinking muse tea.
I sang to the hearts of the rich and the poor.
"He's a genius, a prophet," they said.
I walked upon water and danced with pride's whore.
Now, the poet and song man are dead.
It no longer rains and the sun does not shine.
The great spectrum of colors is gone.
All my brushes are silent, the bristles resign,
To a world with no sunset or dawn.
The people no longer pay heed to a man,
Who is just one more face in the crowd.
I wonder if this was God's ultimate plan,
So that I would no longer be proud.
I remember the good old days
When I was young and wild
With surging passion free;
Now I surrender the old ways,
Retreat to something mild
Stride with sure breath heavy;
Worry was not my sorry play
Yet time flies swift dear child
For fate cannot delay.
Once upon a time long ago,
I ventured boldly far
To find clear destiny;
Today my bones groan and creak slow
An aged and weary star
In struggling mutiny;
Sorry longings fumble to flow,
Passage in broken jar,
Glimpse apt eternity.
My mirror image speaks plainly,
Truth can be so profound
To simply tell on me;
The journey here strings memories
For pictures come around
To show what used to be;
My friend, remember this story:
Beware of fate that grounds
Our common destiny!
The ancient wise men lived bravely
Life's vistas with fond smiles
In true humility;
Pay heed to deeper harmony,
Anchor purpose and style,
Live beyond tragedy;
Let dreams embrace your history,
Make your days here worthwhile,
Dance with life's mysteries.
Leon Enriquez
29 July 2014
Singapore
Angels come in a variety of sizes,
often unexpected, full of surprises.
Times when we’re in direst need,
without fanfare or showy parade,
they’ll comfort us with timely aid,
being sympathetic, they pay heed.
Possessing no halo that can be seen,
they’re often someone who has been
a familiar face in the neighbourhood.
Maybe an acquaintance living near
who helps us vanquish doubt and fear.
At the onset, it is clearly understood
they seek no reward nor compensation.
Showing no bias or dogmatic persuasion,
Angels are there when ill fortune overtakes,
and we feel cornered; the future bleak.
Bolstering our resolve, they’ll quietly speak
to restore optimism, and relieve heartbreaks.
But to see Angels we must first open our eyes,
as they favour no stereotype. We must recognise
they come in varied sizes and temperaments,
displaying no signs, such as halo and wings,
nor playing harpsichord, as a heavenly choir sings,
being plain folks, without musical instruments.
Nonetheless, they restore our peace of mind
when our need is greatest. Ever welcome, we find
their presence alone, exerts a becalming effect.
Without Angels to ease times of deep despair,
our burden, could prove impossible to bear.
Such Angels are ones we love and respect!
Rhymer. June 1st, 2016
Seeds were sown on fertile soil while
SOME FELL upon STONEY GROUND
(This is a poem about one of the latter)
Oh affluent lady in smart design
Scurrying to Tim’s bar to taste of wine
But one and all can see beneath the paint
Scars that pay heed to a lost soul so taint.
Consumption foremost doth addle her mind
When desperate to track a daily grind
Eyes witness testament of her flurry
A lustful grin contrives her to hurry.
With a shaking hand crystal flute to raise
Each sup hallelujah in silent praise
An embarrassing glance though not a care
Her inner most pain bared for all to share.
Hastily she consumes her liquid meal
Her body pulsates unable to heal
A repetitive shot needed to please
No unsociable craving to be ease.
Silver Jag’s outside all bright and gleaming
She fights with the keys her body screaming
A need to be alone and get away
So she can measure the rest of the day.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Then comes the call of the witch named Kabbath,
That signals the start of All Hollow's Black Sabbath.
And, from the dark crypts and the blackest of holes;
Come the night creatures, as the Midnight Bell Tolls
Come Goblins and ghoulies, black creatures all hassled.
Come the fiends of the night that haunt the High Castle.
To the cemetery fields where the undead lay waiting
For the black orgy to begin their unholy mating.
Witches, black sorcerers, and warlocks all
Dance to the wind at this black magic ball.
Their music the cry of ten million lost souls;
All hither they come as the Midnight Bell Tolls.
All gathered at last, at this darkest of hours.
To wait for the sign of Satan's great power.
That'll send them in search all over the world,
To capture the souls of ye boys and ye girls.
So, let this be a warning this Halloween night
And pay heed to thy parents, they know what is right.
Though you search for sweet treats, wherever you stroll.
Be safe in your beds, when the Midnight Bell Tolls.
In twilight slumber
Naked truths revealed
What you learn of you
Flows across the screen
Dreamer must pay heed.
Life’s message comes
Symbolic cloaked
Characters pose
The way unfolds.
Dreamscape brings
Future scenes
Prophecy
Be brave
Look close
Know.
Sadly, there's news that I have to report:
Sometimes your age has you coming up short.
You may plan a trip or an outing and then
Boom! It hits you - you're wandering out of your ken.
You may tempt the gods and proceed even though
A tiny voice whispers it's best not to go.
If sleepless nights happen you don't have a choice -
Admit your defeat and pay heed to that voice.
Then alter the plans you'd intended to keep
Just the tiniest bit to ensure you will sleep.
Admit that the years have been taking a toll;
Find an easier path and get ready to roll.
Luminary Visions
Automatic liberty for one who has been incarcerated
Technocratic synergy that evolved to be automated
Enigmatic creativity which is overtly animated
Charismatic sensibilities that are recognised and celebrated
Amazing grace just pouring down from a twighlight sky
Stargazing at space as the question of origin comes out as a “why”?
A blazing face hot in disgrace about to suddenly die
While the grazing poor are dressed in broken lace and caught up in a politicians lie
Miscommunication at the place of education while the illiterate learn to read
Defamation of the current administration as the population articulates what it needs
Condemnation of the newest correlation that is necessary to feed
Exclamation of fascination as the people refuse to pay heed
I can see this microscopic look of fear inside your eyes
If it weren’t so clear I would tell you that there is no need to hide
But I can only add that your feelings are always justified
There’s a place for you among it all that you can always reside
Sanctuary at the latest state to take a stand
Extraordinary instances as I extend my shaking hand
Diversionary distances that remove the people from their land
Luminary images that allow the vision to remain grand
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Consuming Failure
Pay heed the dancing chickens hot plate feet
lest you believe the music makes him strut
outrunning death by curried peppers sweet
the cooling of the iron his sole treat
keep moving to avoid the final cut
pay heed the dancing chickens hot plate feet
harsh tempo of perfections searing heat
obsession with the ifs, and whens, and buts
outrunning death by curried peppers sweet
performing in the hope of winning seat
an endless line that must remain uncut
pay heed the dancing chickens hot plate feet
there is in heated battle no retreat
for some the dancer’s door will soon slam shut
outrunning death by curried peppers sweet
accept in simple failure your defeat
perfections long sought peak a muddy rut
pay heed the dancing chickens hot plate feet
outrunning death by curried peppers sweet
6/12/2015
submitted to – Villanelle’s and Terzanelle’s Only – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton
Nothing can substitute death
for it is the final destination
and ere you last breath
crystal clear all your abberation.
Rest forever or birth to numb dizziness
at you part, you leave all harms and assaults
people most theist, called quick as bless
is perfused, to save them from life's thunderbolts
Long life of people swing as tombs
where none pay heed to temple and churches
who will pay heed to these pale living glooms
these clowns in whose core only money perches.
Flirt and dirt only thing hatching in heart
and society dwindles with values and morals
each thing lost as perfect human you never wert
lacking basic emphaty but adorned with quarrels.
AKASH SANGWAN