Best Peopletime Poems
Appearances can be deceptive,
And to the superficial gaze
The outside seems dull and grey
Plain looking in many ways,
Yet, when a crack causes
Water to seep slowly through,
A Geode can split to reveal
A dazzling sight to view!
Piles of purple crystals
Sparkling in the light,
Such wonderful inner beauty
Now apparent for our delight.
Have you noticed how some people,
Like a Geode, seem as plain as can be?
Yet, if we take time to peer deeper,
Then, what gems would we see?
Perhaps a beautiful heart
We never thought was there,
Where an aching generosity
Is waiting its time to share?
Yes, a warm, glowing inner beauty
Will emerge before your eyes,
A newly discovered Treasure
For you to cherish, and to prize!
A woman in a fairy world, made from human dreams
Goddess fair, conceived and born in the time of love
Bound to a place of whispering breeze and moonbeams
Voice as soft and gentle and the coo of the gray dove...
Came the time of summer frolic and gay delight
And in her gleeful wandering she paused to see
Her filmy beauty reflected in a woodland pool
Surrounded by the purple rose and cinnamon tree...
Amazed to see within the pool her quiet twin
Her every motion a study of pure synchronicity
Their fingers touched on one drop of water blue
Ivory wings folded in a moment for pure serenity...
Lovely Astrid tarried there until shadows crept
Entranced by the fluid smile on that shadow face
Finally bound by the magic of that glassy world
She slept, one hand dipped in that watery place....
For Constance's Reflection contest
Barbara Gorelick
Who’s Texas oil rich, just five-feet-six
and always seems to get out of a fix?
He’s married with four kids, and eyes bright blue -
a guy you love to hate. . . Still need a clue?
He came to CBS a year ago
to play the nineteenth season of the show
"Survivor!" Fans tuned in; there on Samoa
we saw him on a tribe called Foa Foa.
A villain on this game show like no other,
he’s one you’d guess could rat out his own mother.
He’s Russell Hantz, a genuine control freak,
and add to that, he’s quite a little sneak!
To cause a stir, he once burned someone’s socks,
feigned innocence, and then had secret talks
with teammates as he filled their minds with doubt
And made his plans of whom to next throw out.
With not one clue, he found immunity.
a “first” in all "Survivor" history,
then saved himself when there came times to vote
with idols he had found. (He loves to gloat!)
If someone were not “pliable,” he’d thrust
them out, while there were others he would trust.
But by the time the game came to its end,
he’d backstabbed them and didn’t have one friend.
And so he lost that game. We saw him cry
as votes were read, a crazed look in his eye!
A hundred grand he’d give to wear the crown,
but she who rode his coattails turned him down.
Respected by his fans, he’s gone anew
to play this time with villains, none who knew
him from before, and now he’s in a game
with old time favorites who seem really lame!
With blind-sides left and right, they’re falling fast.
I think Hantz might remain there till the last!
He gave an idol up to save a gal
I bet he wishes were more than a pal. . .
His poor wife has to watch him on TV,
all smiles while making eyes at Parvati.
But win or lose this time, he is the slayer
of those "Survivor" All-Stars. What a player!
(Watch for the season finale. It should be coming soon, either Thursday or maybe on a
Sunday)
For Linda-Marie Bariana's TV Tempations contest
There was a man who was so humble
When he spoke he merely mumbled
There was a man who once was a boy
And played with fire more than toys
There was a man who fell in love
And mingled with the clouds above
There was a man standing there
Holding a baby with such loving care
There was a man on the beaten path
Yonder to war and met such wrath
There was a man who was so bold
But deep inside he was too cold
There was a man running in the rain
In his eyes was so much pain
There was a man who started the drink
Because he didn't ever want to think
There was a man who was so broken
The words he felt were never spoken
There was a man with so much anger
Those once held close became a stranger
There was a man with so much pride
For his family he lived his life
There was a man who was so wise
Long after time won and took his eyes
There was a man with loving arms
Lost his youth yet not his charm
There was a man who lost his crown
From lofty heights he fell down
There was a man put in the ground
While very few gathered round
There was a man inside my brain
Trying to make me go insane
There was a man......
Note: This was inspired one night pondering over all the men I have come across in my
life. Not romantically mind you, but a few. Everything from the begger on the street,
friends along the way, strangers, or family, etc. Each two lines represents a different
man. Thank you for taking the time to read my poetry.
Copyright © by Scarlett Anderson
Standing in line, I saw you over there.
Purchasing your ticket to the "Lust County Fair."
Your lips were locking at the County kissing booth..
Looking more like "exchanging of the tongues" than just a smooch.
On the ferris wheel, your hands where all over her.
You could be "her father" you old ugly buzzard.
In the "petting farm", I see your fittin' right in..
Amongst the other swines and swindlers bathing in their sins.
I hope you feel justified with your so-called young date.
I would not give you the time of day even with a "mail in rebate!"
You came over, pounding and kicking away at my door.
Seething with anger, no rain checks this time bud; it's over!
It is time to ............................. RHYME
And it is the time ..................... FOR
Those to take the .................... TIME
When there is ......................... TO
Help out a brother and ............. SPARE
A kind thought or reach into ..... A
Deep pocket and give a ........... DIME
I sit alone, racking a brain silent as stone,
awaiting inspiration, until it comes scrolling
from the recesses of the unknown
Wide awake, heart beat steady,
fingers awaiting thoughts to flow from my brain to them,
beginning the transformation from impulse to prose
Toilsome, my mind content to roam,
refuses to focus on one topic alone,
thoughts fragmented then gone,
soon will come together, no longer alone
Words, once in discord, unite, become clearer,
fingers fly, light as a feather,
transformation rapid, now writing with ease, finally let go,
a philosophic frenzy, barely in control
No time to wonder the how or why,
this collection of verse, this natural high,
what has been written, this lunacy of the mind,
no longer confined, will survive
I rejoice in this composition, its delivery without restriction,
a one of a kind submission, a testimonial of convection,
to once again clone, this marvelous time alone
I know this man who cared so dear
Who took the responsibility of another man.
He did not have to,
this is true.
But with a willing heart and a helping hand this man became my friend.
He was there when I needed a hug
Was not afraid to give you that pep talk
While he decided to stay and hang out.
I know he could have walked out.
For this, I am grateful to this day.
then something happened and it was not good.
Years went by and times changed
we went our separate ways .
Been awhile since we have talked
I found out your time was short
If I could help you in any way
I would give you that liver today.
I am just letting you know how much you mean to me
Before your time comes and I miss my opportunity.
I know it well, i know his paranoid mind.. tapping foot, agitated eyes, looking
everywhere but in mine
He pushes his cigarette butt further into the cup, projecting his contorted thought
onto something inanimate..
willfully taking the focus away.. discomfort in his own skin he tries not to display
He knows its just time now that separates him from straight thinking and sound
mind..
silently begging for the allowance of sleep to grant him calm then peace
For in these hours following a euphoric night, he bargains and promises himself
'that was the last time',
like the time before and time before that, a habit to be broken and yes to be free..
when he finds the answer i hope he shares it with me...
Form:
A white washed fence; clean and pristine
On the other side of the fence; cream and olive green
Clear to both- is that the colors fade
Even if one is more in the shade
The sun beams down on an olive branch
That had been extended by chance
The side of the olive green
Has a cream colored rose-painted in a summer scene
Never have the two given up the feud
So both are unsightly and rude
The bullheadedness was getting old
So, the children scold-
The parents
For not accepting each other; when the time was right
Like in the beginning of the fight
A child will learn quicker than an adult
Which road to go down; before it is time to start a bout
About how close a tree is on one’s property
But it is the parent that will create an atrocity
It’s Time to Take Out the Eraser
There once was a boy and his mom
They explored and had fun in their camper.
But the Everglades in June…mosquitoes!
It’s Time to take out the eraser!
There once was an avid fossil collector
Looking for shark's teeth without fear.
A great white swam near; she screamed…oh, dear –
It’s Time to take out the eraser!
There once was an innocent girl
She fell in love; but he was no bachelor –
So much for studying; “making her way in the world.”
It’s Time to take out the eraser!
There once was a young reckless driver
That used to be a video game winner.
He cut off a big wheeler in one-day…play?
It’s Time to take out the eraser!
There once were lovers strolling together.
Sweetly holding hands at the arbor.
Homing pigeons flew above…hundreds!
It’s Time to take out the eraser!
There once was a poet in a contest.
She wrote too many words…not a miser.
Readers of her poem did not laugh.
It’s Time to take out the eraser!
and tonight the rest of the story
let us not give the headlines
the best of the glory
let's remember the times of old
a history, something told
a storyteller tells the tale
of the bold
listeners tune in to listen
to what is gold
a riddle, a clue, a mystery to unfold
who is the subject and what is the goal
and in the end remembered
the great invention
within the story meaningful intentions
the storyteller had a way
of keeping our attention
as we listened in the car
or in the kitchen
for some he was our lunch time break
we listened to his commercials as we ate
the trick of advertisement was so sublime
we listened attentivly as he used his time
at times of mattresses,
and pills we listened to his appeals
while he told the story his ad's would pay the bills
and tonight the rest of the story
lets not give the headlines
the best of the glory
Paul Harvey went to meet his glory
leaving the rest of us wondering
what would be the rest of his story
surely he knew how to begin
and how to skillfully draw us in
as every story the master would begin
but this time there are no commercials
no special ad's made for his rehursal
only the quiet exit unto glory
and now we know the rest of his story
Watching the spider as he catches his prey
Spinning his web, delivering venom
Back and forth doing his work skillfully
There in the web a little Gheni Wasp
Fight back each time the spider approaches
Trying to sting and get away at the same time
Each time the Wasp gets weaker _more paralysis
Soon the spider can't move but still alive_barely
The spider slowly digest the wasp_eats _enjoys
Using it up until just a shell__inside empty
But still fear_each time the spider approaches
Fear_torment until death__then spider starts again
There will come a time when you have finally faded
Your guile, your poisoned tongue will have been traded
For peace and silence desired by those you've hurt
With scripture and professed prophecy you eagerly pervert
And when that time comes, great rejoicing will ensue
For we will be, oh! - so very much over you
Why do we let our prejudices own us?
Controlling what we do and think.
Unless we change the boat of human hearts will surely sink.
But it wont rest heavily upon our conscience,
as we dont believe out actions have consequence.
So grab a life jacket and up the bracket.
Let our human hearts be saved.
That way perhaps our childrens lives may not be so depraved.
Do we have it in us to do this good.
Or has hate set thick within our blood.
After all we are an infant species.
Easily crumbling to societies mercies.
It's time to ask ourselves the question.
Is it time for evolution or revolution?
Form: