Best Pedestals Poems
Two statues of stone
On pedestals in the park
One male
One female
White objects of a perfections beauty
Yet they stood erect and alone
When the rain fell
This was their tears
The stared at each other with longing
The trees grew tall
Season by season the flowers bloomed
Two statues standing erect in the prison of life's hold
A poet walked in the park
Glancing at lovers, kisses at dusk
He stared at the statues above his head
He knew, with dread, the loneliness of stone maidens
He waited for the park to become enclosed in the twilight
With toil and sweat he did succeed on his lark
Pushing the statues close rather than apart
As one statue danced and the other one sang
They kissed the sweetness of night and felt the tears of joy
All because a poet
Wished them a lovers embrace
He knew them like they were his children
For here he was as well
A statue
In love
Categories:
pedestals, beautiful, beauty, garden, imagery,
Form:
Light Verse
Inspired by Machinehead – Darkness Within (Acoustic version) & members of society who refuse to embrace the kiss of silence…
As great intentions
Wither upon invalidated declarations,
Serenity’s crowd holds teary-eyed candles
Making silent wishes
For the venom to be sucked
Out
Loudness’ waxy build-up
Making filthy demands
In delegated hostage stand-off
To be HEARD
Cocked pistols, insignificant
Firing duds against glasshouses
Rubbing “war-torn” palms
Within cemented rubber bands
Forgetting life’s lesson
To shut their raging mouth
If they truly want to be heard
Amnesia’s warning sign to muzzle thyself
For one meaningful second
To ALLOW a merging of disappointed truths
Into their heartbeats
Salvation’s attempt to stifle boiling pressures of Sangre
From coming face to face with reality scythes
They latch onto plastic rosary beads
Fade to Black
Singing Gregorian prayers,
Removing knife from karma’s back
They strum in vain to please the Lord.
We see your true colors
Shining through
We see your true colors
That’s why we can no longer love you
Placing forced expectations
Against vulnerable humanity
To lay weary heads on curtailed shoulder pads
With foolish attempts to swallow moot points
And pride-coated defibrillators
To jump start a heartbeat, extinct
Forgetting that even self-made pedestals
Have a limited warranty
I see your true colors
Shining through…
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
pedestals, life, people, slam, society,
Form:
Free verse
The seashore is a wondrous stage, for in the sun's delight,
I sit and watch a play unfold- it's there within my sight!
Those beauties, young with golden tans, demurely sashay by
In search of those admiring eyes that peep so deft and sly.
While young dudes with their virile forms and sun-bleached wavy hair,
Strut back and forth so confident with sort of haughty air.
Small children, filling up their pails, build castles made of sand,
While fathers take a break from rest to lend a helping hand.
And mothers being what they are- in their protective lots,
Are ever rubbing suntan cream on freckled, sunburned tots.
Those chunky mid-life guys and gals packed tight in swim attire
Add so much fullness to the scene, for those to see, admire!
And oldsters wrapped up tight and snug to shield from wind and sun,
With eyes shut under hats of straw, in dreamland have their fun!
At water's edge, the tame are found, waves rolling at their feet;
While further out, some brave the swells to make their fun complete.
And there, up high on pedestals, bronzed lifeguards oversee
With ever watchful, cautious eyes, the shore's activity.
And here I sit, a spectator, relaxed this summer day-
But, am I too a character to those who look my way?
April 20, 2015
Premiere Contest: My Favorite Vacation In Rhyme
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
Categories:
pedestals, beach, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Invited into Her circle
of five points,one for each
of the qualities She crystallizes,
truth as fire, earth as nourishment,
body in water, lights in air, and ether as love,
in Her center a sacred thought having origin in primal purpose,
we embraced as immortals do,
mouth to ear and song to song,
mind to memory and wish to wisdom,
connecting with the ease of melody on morning's hope,
frollicing within the gamble of a galaxy grown mad from curiosity,
the path of the Prime Mover performs a pounce along our venerable vertebrae,
She widens a door which illuminates a portico,columns white marble and red veins,
tempered flames in low tremble make vigil to the death bed masks of ancestors,
who made glory a partner against multitudes of dangers,such as living without loyalty,
encouraged by Her gravitas,Her need for a hero,I stared into those vacant eyes
on the pedestals held upright by iron frames,and I heard them chant I must for Her,
made so lovely with a crown of moon glow,
I kissed this Woman's hand,heaven in my sight,
my oath to vindicate Her from profane might,
I awoke facing a mirror,believing in Her dearly,
my headgear fastened and plumed,
feathers of a hawk and eagle divinely sprout atop,
from then I only knew Her words,and a dreamy picture,
however,I trusted Her affection,I could live on Her meaning -
J.A.B.
Categories:
pedestals, devotion,
Form:
Romanticism
Magnetic attraction, enchanting dream of a lifetime -
majestic pyramid attracts my eye,
mystique draws me in
O, your architecture! Pavilions, colonnades; art enclosing art,
every square inch deliberately designed,
ceilings pour forth scintillating splendor
Antiquities from Rome, Egypt, the Orient:
trying to wrap my head around art
created in Mesopotamia 6,000 years ago
Dazed and captivated in your Greek sculpture hall:
Bronze beauty, marble magnificence,
Venus de Milo seduces still
What history you have archived on your walls and pedestals!
Charlemagne holding his scepter,
Louis XIV in regal resplendence
Oil on canvas communicates genuine genius
Rembrandt, Rubens, Raphael,
Vermeer, Van Dyck, Vigée-Lebrun
Mythology awakened to life in marble:
Hera, Hermaphrodite, Neptune, Nymph,
Psyche and Cupid
Even commoners respectfully regarded:
Messina's military man, Brueghel's beggars,
Michelangelo's dying slave
Centuries of religious faith expressed with grace and grandeur:
Moses in the bulrushes, Islamic ivory,
the penitent Magdalene, Virgin and child
Artistic vision reflects and redirects history:
Renaissance masters forecasting the future,
Monet's Impressionism a daring new style
Fifteen minutes till closing, where have the hours flown?
What of tapestries, textiles, drawings, decorative arts?
Alas, another day.
Highlight of the day, world's most famous painting:
mysterious Mona Lisa smile
thanks me for coming to visit
Louvre:
timeless testimony to artistic aesthetic
cathedral of contemplation
history of humanity
Written 15 Sep 2020
Categories:
pedestals, art, paris, travel,
Form:
Free verse
Iconoclastic lots of marshiest beauty
Clenched sublime altruistic nature bore –
Morals indefatigably humbled, reasoning in bondage –
Bondage of the highest periphery
Blessings encountered in watered chaos.
Blocked nuts with scanty feelers,
Inducing mere bouts of euphoric impasses
Rarely a gift of fatherly nature.
Hay filled tubs called but heads
Preferably a misfortune
To their worthless masses.
Maevius a reader’s delight be
In the fumbling fold
Of this rowdy rendezvous.
More ore less classy oddities
On deferred pedestals
As lovely Mannequins
To display for sale.
Now Hyperion his burning sword behold
None to hear Triton’s call to arms.
Categories:
pedestals, allegory,
Form:
Classicism
Set in stone
I might be
As jewel
Her, Aphrodite
Eyes, but who
Inward stare
Upon pure nude
Venus de Milo
Cold cold marbel
Questionable masterpiece
Or warm warm rains
Crying towards Greece
However shall beauty
Reach out to thee
To worlds passed
Time has never pleased
But, by any other name
I am woman; figurine
Upon others pedestals
I am thee
Categories:
pedestals, beauty, history, tribute,
Form:
Verse
Do You ever just get tired of Being You?
Up there on The Highest of pedestals as You rule...
Is It You feeling selfish or alone as an unhinged fool?
I care of Your most inner thoughts and about You often...
May My remarks make Your Strength become more soften.
Do You ever get tired of Being You?
Even with All Your Money or possibly Self for filled greed...
I can't help You understand for I only have Me to need.
I hope I can Be of Your Beckoned Service when You actually want to See.
For as I share this marking wound of Your deepest fear I hide inside Me.
Do You ever just get tired of Being You?
The Children captured in Their different varieties of worlds holding pain...
Wondering if Their Next Meal or life matters that may or will ever Be obtained.
I'm just trying to hit Our common grounds to Our Survival...
We are just mismatched in A Huge Puzzle yet unsolved as We form rivals.
Do You ever just get tired of Being You?
As The Richest of People plummet into cesspool of remorse over My thoughts...
There Doors locked for discussion as Wars are created from the shadows taught.
Do You ever just get tire of being You?
The Length of A swore is vast,thicken with Evil Doers,and blood drenches are filled.
The firmness In My Words silenced;I have spoken from My small mind as willed.
All left for concern of Me;is silent,disheartening,as Your sunsets go on for now... All is red and done;Seemly to reflect empty words dusted underneath A sad Brow.
Categories:
pedestals, allegory, anger, care, character,
Form:
Villanelle
A
question
that
never
slumbers
to the end
of hour,
is love exchanging views with
that of why. For both are
never ending, and never
ending are the pupils standing
seamlessly upon an exampled
tulip celebrated and cherished
known to man as female. A
female of whom among us
constitutes as God’s monumental
gift. Oh how thy sleep soundly
in the midst of her pedestals,
breathing in oxygen as
dehydration metamorphose
to liquid tears and unrehearsed
palpitation waltzes about thy
heart. Not even in the remotest
degree that today is of yesterday.
For whom to have known that two
visitors would
long to be
lovers of
love to
the extent
now
being
in
love.
Pace INK-U-SCRIPT
03-06-2013
Categories:
pedestals, life, love, love,
Form:
Free verse
Flowers before my eyes
Dancing below the skies
Flowers for your eyes
Twirling yellow in dyes
Flowers I offer you
Waltzing for me and you
Flowers I send to you
Two hearts, me and you
Waltz of flowers
In the morn shining in pedestals
Flowers like showers
In the night scenting like petals
Waltz of fragrant flowers
In my heart you are mine
Flowers in radiant towers
In your heart I will dine
Waltz of scented flowers
Dancing without fetters
Waltz of painted lovers
Together blooming with forevers
Categories:
pedestals, dance, flower, nature,
Form:
Romanticism
My heart longs to hug
and to snug
In ur warm arms.
Not to be left in darkness.
We used to snog
On the large log,
Feeling ur tenderness
And every sweetness
Of yours lips.
Your swaying hips
Astounded my senses.
There are no pedestals
Reserved in the heavens
For girl wit such outlooks.
You exist in my fantasy
Visiting in my fantasy,
For a gem I have lost.
Heaven's taken my best.
I need no other kiss
But your kiss
From heaven.
Categories:
pedestals, death of a friend,
Form:
Rhyme
How unfortified are favored mystics;
ripened men devoid of backbones,
ladies with bogus analogies,
others, their nuisances known.
Some put fools on pedestals,
without attention to outcome,
but things are much different
when dealing with intellectuals.
If recollection tallies,
them old folks always let us remember:
“Self-praise is no recommendation.”
We do as the good book bids us:
“Answer fools according to their follies.”
There are more charades than sound guidance.
The throng was never us to ensue,
so we reject the king’s meat.
Truth is, we are what we eat … and drink.
How warped is their integrity.
Let them cast the first stone;
I’m balanced high on clouds from cannabis,
while their brains swim in mugs of Ethanol.
The bloody republicans suffer
from lack of …
lack of everything
except delusion of grandeur,
and the rich men have a strong-hold on America’s carotid.
My sister, college professor, asked:
“Where is the people’s guardian?”
Her expression eagerly awaits reply.
While estimations differ,
time (unbowed) will render true chronicles,
but while we tarry for time’s revelation
we yielded to trepidation;
what nincompoops are in charge of the people’s care?
Categories:
pedestals, politicalmen, integrity,
Form:
Lyric
Written November 17, 2013
Fields of flowers
Rest around our heads
While photos of blood
Surround our beds
On pedestals we stand
Preaching to the world
Something foretold
By heretics in white
And neighbors in black
Who claim they already knew that
Rain beats down on my roof
To the tune of Duke Ellington
And to the Scat Man we dance
It's all we have left in this world
Penniless pockets
Play the vagabond game
While the vultures in Eden
Circle the insane
Who hear the angels sing
Refrains and quatrains
Who can be a spokesman
For those who cannot speak
A preacher for the downtrodden
A dollar dropped at hand
For the bum on Main and Port
Traveling through strife
No child or wife
To dedicate his life
No hope to beat his drum
No harp for strings he's strung
Categories:
pedestals, introspection, life, loneliness, loss,
Form:
Lyric
We found each other in a roadside bar in some desolate place,
she saw me from the other side,
the band that was playing wasn't carrying,
so I decided to let her come approach me...
I carry with me a soft gaze as she politely understands me,
her eyes captured my dreams for the next three days...
It was a heartfelt intervention-
we had a couple drinks,
we understood what the local talk was about,
and with tales becoming tangles,
there became less need for words,
only laughs and strokes,
...following of vibrations around the room,
and the danger...
Because I thought you had forgot-
that one tiny moment in time-
when it happens to me,
oh so fine.
She keeps blessing me with the utmost intelligence,
as I sit not thinking,
like kittens on pedestals,
before they learn to break the rules,
just like energetic fools...
I found character unlike anything I have been able to endure.
But anger evades my soul,
and if I accept anger-
I accept an angry soul,
and if I wished upon a bowl
to solve my whole whole,
I'd tender you gold...
Please make my soul,
in this age of 'you go to school,'
and 'I cant help but drool,'
oh what foreign mystique
could evade those wide eye's?
I know how I fall in far
and then out the other side.
Like my grip on my ride,
on the freeway doin' 95...
Legal as being high in some hippy's eye.
But I am still just a suffering pig
who doesn't eat sorbet,
who justifies readiness
with real time face,
who lives out his days
traditional and gay,
giving out blessings to people who should thank.
Categories:
pedestals, age, anniversary, assonance, baby,
Form:
Imagism
Dependency is an extreme sort of malaise.
Its intensifications are seen in awkward ways.
You see yourself as an incurable disease.
However, once the means disappear, you become at ease.
Estranged from your normal world, you shout-out saliently to be heard.
Done in the calmest way, your expression removes disenchantment.
Hugs you give.
Afflictions ebb diminishing the tide.
You smile and begin to feel the importance of life.
Prescribe the drug to others.
Tell them how you overcame your troubles through this remedy.
The pain that you killed was done via Poetry Therapy.
Let one know the heights you peaked.
Pedestals you formed.
Share those as well and state they are there for anyone to summit.
Apex
Reach your highpoint
Zenith
Top
Pinnacle
Do not stop
Level to the afar
The limit is there.
SKY
____________________________________________________________/
Sponsor: Giorgio A. V.
Contest Name: Impress me with a small poem IV !
User Name: Verlena S. Walker
Nom De Plume: Oblivion Dark Sunshine
Motif: Empower/Amour-Proper/Motivational/Inspirational
Categories:
pedestals, character, courage, environment, health,
Form:
Free verse