Best Peppering Poems


Premium Member Deeply Hurt Love

Feet not up yet dreaming looking into the deep distant horizon screams
need to take turf in remembering howls across oceans mourning dream special wish

You would want a good fire tonight for sure ice stormy fierce cold cutting
out walking giant waves hitting of the shore thundering pounds lashing clash 

Today the wind fairly woke me up piercing wide eye opening vision
Then when I got home just felt ten years younger alive again one storm

Now that's a good omen laughing to myself carries one to the high Heavens
Must be the salted spray love mixed with sea mist smashes you to the ground love

New therapy go out to the sea front as gales howling with angry force break news
blowing giant waves crashing heavy of cliffs thundering roars echoes inside sad 

Wind spitting sea salt sand peppering the face in your hardened heart
hate remains your driving engine unforgiving hung up on the past
Form: Couplet

1776 - Jefferson, Franklin and Adams

And so they sat, this learned three
in full pursuit of liberty,
the turkey, eagle and the dove
looked down upon them from above.

The declaration almost writ
they rubbed their chins a little bit;
looked heavenward, and there espied 
their feathered friends, as one they cried: 

The perfect symbol he would be
to represent our great country!
His visage shall our seal adorn
To celebrate our new land born!   

But harmony became dissent
as three ways now their discourse went;
voicing long as they were able -
till three bird splats hit the table.

Silenced now, the conversation
at this triple defecation,
the trio must now make a pact:
clean up the table, and their act.

Full focused now, the case was laid
for each bird, compliments were paid,  
pausing only, eyes a-goggle
at the turkey’s goofus gobble.

Despite their eloquential might
they could not make their choice take flight;
just as they made their virtues soar
another splat would hit the floor.

The birds, enjoying now this game
attempt to calibrate their aim;
to make their mark and thus complete
the declaration at their feet.

The Dove, descending from his perch
aghast at our trio’s besmirch;
peppering poop across their stage
like little stars across the page.

The turkey, not to be outdone
slicked back his crop and took a run;
with several rather clumsy wipes
he bathed the document with stripes.

The Eagle watched with some disdain 
his adversaries stock now wane;
their lust for glory now long gone - 
he knew he was the chosen one.

The Eagle may have won the day
his image is still used today;
but Dove and Turkey may still brag -  
they made the stars and stripes your flag.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Haiku - Seasoning

crows collecting twigs

                              peppering the neighbourhood -

                                  salt stained bird watcher





03/15/2019

Writing Challenge 2, March 2019 - Haiku - Poetry Contest

Sponsored by Dear Heart
Form: Haiku


Premium Member A Cold and Vibrant November Morning

On a cold November morning
Frost wrapped the world in an ashy hue
Sucking the heart from silence
As an optimistic sun gazed through
Naked branches of oak and maple

Peeking through the limbs of gray
Lighting the indigo skies with grace
Dancing, flowing, praising
In waves of enchantment, such riches
Radiating warmth and awaking
The crackle of leaves, stunned
By the bitter air, the chilling stare
Of freezing sparkles on thoughts
Met by the luster of dawn

Revelations caress the mind
Of those who listen to the pulsations
Rumbling through the thoughts
Echoes of dreams, dulled
By reality’s dark plans for the one
Who listens to shadowy feelings
Deprived of hope or faith
Lingering on the edges of silhouettes
Who dread the moment, stirring
To life – the sense of delight
Inspiration and insight
Peppering the darkness in joy
Pleasures like seeds who’ll be growing
Love, the anointing
Of a life full of glory

A frosted November Sunday
Breathless and murky with hues
Of obscure inklings twinkling
Like the hesitating stars
On a quiet night
Flooded with desires, dreams
Amazed by the creation
Blessed by His presence
Even here – among the thorns
Who hasten to bite soft flesh
With frozen barbs, like wire
Bringing the ooze
Of crimson flowing over
Icy cool thoughts
Enriching the heart
With feelings from a deep
Longing, a need
For the belief that imagines
Love is forever
A never ending feeling
Forever giving
Never leaving
Always satisfying

On a cold and vibrant November morning
Love melts the heart
Who is yearning for the promise
Of a feeling that brings
Joy beyond words, more alive
Than the dance that inspires
Poets to write, artists to paint
As hearts unite
To share their life!

Premium Member Home Sweet Home

Know that I am filled with light
Reflecting off of your heart, your soul
Your imagination and inspiration
Your kindness, hope and more…
Your glow of gladness soothing me
With sensations, like whispers,
Grazing my spirit with their laughter
Coloring me in hues of lavender
Happily illuminating my loving nature
With peppering raindrops of hope

Know that I am filled with faith
Flowing through me in waves of grace
Like music playing across the way
Smiling at the promise of kindness
Drifting along, like a tide, waiting
For the moment when it can rise
Swiftly sharing its complete truth
The wish for one moment of self-assurance
Breaking the barriers of pain and worry
Praising the One who is always worthy

Know that I am your thoughts
Longing to color your heart in truth
Invaluable and intense and inspiring
Alive in ways that I can’t explain
With silence that screams of miracles
Wonders to sustain your heart
Through warmth, hope, love that lives
To give a part of me to your thoughts
Where I yearn to live eternally waiting
For your prompt to give my embrace

Sweet love of mine, know that I am
Filled with a spirit of kind-heartedness
That loves you with compassion that breaths
Exhilaration, imagination, self-confidence
Love that breaths intimacy and insight
Laughter, truth and complete devotion
To the heart that has taken me in and given
Safety from harm, light that rises at dawn
Starry skies in the night, echoes of warmth
Welcoming me home to a heart that is family

Sweet love of mine… You are my home!

Premium Member When Doves Cry

Rain pours down over the hills, like God’s tears
Jewels peppering petals, impulsive
Lightening rages in skies, bleeding fears
Wonders so amazing they’re compulsive

Jewels peppering petals, impulsive
Skating along roses, a faint pleasure
Wonders so amazing they’re compulsive
Creating hope in hearts, beyond measure

Skating along roses, a faint pleasure
Reflecting joy descending with showers
Creating hope in hearts, beyond measure
Nourishing the oaks, pines, all the flowers

Reflecting joy descending with showers
Risking all to abide in His sweet grace
Nourishing the oaks, pines, all the flowers
Knowing beautiful beyond any place

Risking all to abide in His sweet grace
Singing like stardust glistens, secret love
Knowing beautiful beyond any place
Soft light flowing down from heaven above

Singing like stardust glistens, secret love
Painting souls in music from falling rain
Soft light flowing down from heaven above
Here is more love than a heart can contain

Painting souls in music from falling rain
Lightening rages in skies, bleeding fears
Here is more love than a heart can contain
Rain pours down over the hills, like God’s tears
Form: Pantoum


Premium Member The Power of Words

Poets go beyond the rose
Into the petal’s gentle soul
Poets go beneath the bud
To caress the sweet nectar
Poets go into the secret’s liar
Where flowers learn to charm
Poets go inside the heart
Of a lilac’s lavender blush

Poets go…
	Past the azure color
Of sky so rich with dew
Through the atmosphere
Into the heavens, where 
They learn to inspire truth

Poets go…
	Past the shimmer
Shining in the moon and stars
Into the gentle whisper of passion
Peppering the skies with delight
Capturing happiness in the sight

Poets go…
	Past the heartfelt caress
Of a soft and gentle breath against
The skin who knows no doubt or qualm
Which might interfere with the joy
In the sensation of pure, cool love

Poets go…
	Past the muse that harbors
All the answers to their best poems
Through the melancholy and elation
The grace that brings such insight
Into the spirit’s longing to write

Poets go…
	Past the harmony of dawn
That paints the world in lace silence
Echoes through the miracles that happen
When mystery meets with circumstance
And love is discovered in every place

Poets go…
	Past miracles that come from knowing
This peace that erases all tendency to harm
And welcomes silence as a best friend, one
Who leaves the heart filled with brilliance within
The soul who feels so drawn to these feelings

Poets go…
	Past sighs of eager affection and 
Truth that compares to a sweet love affair
Filling up the heart with music and dance
Wishing away every chance of disdain or disgrace
That might keep a heart from this love that awaits

Poets go…
	Past disillusionment and humiliation
That comes from not giving into destiny
Discovering the wonders and treasures of
Sweetest intimacy and all that comes from
Being one with the reflections of blessed verse

Poets go…
	Past the pain of the past grief 
Into the warmth of a hope that knows
Nothing but promise and encouragement
That comes from the assurance of love
That lives inside each poem’s power!





Where do poets go? Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
November 26, 2020

Premium Member Small Moments

Echoes of laughter penetrate my reflections
Reminding me of the loneliness that exists
Amid shattered memories and lost dreams
When I awakened to a family that was gone
Lifted from the earth to walk along those
Streets of heaven, where I will someday walk
Feet beating out a dance of loving wisdoms
Hailing those beloved people I’ve missed for these
Many years of living on earth and witnessing
Other families coming and going, alive and well
Seeking the warmth that flickers with fires
Of intimacy and inspiration, insight into faith
Where secret visions soar, unheard and silent,
Reaching through the pains and struggles
To light up like diamonds in the darkest night

Vibrations of hope puncture my whispering 
Musings, painting hues of sparkling desire
Through my passionate spirit, my tender
Feelings, flowing crimson through veins of
Serenity and joy, yearnings for the day when 
I, too, will reach this place called heaven
Where I will meet the One who has known
Me all along, known my heart, soul and spirit
Known the family that I miss so desperately
And long for, with a hunger that threatens
To consume my very soul with its ache for
The small moments when I knew them best

In the places that come back so easily, the 
Dinner table and the breakfast feasts of omelets
That left us filled with more love for each other
Than the nutrients of eggs and meat, sustenance
Thriving floods of hope seasoning the meals
And peppering of love awakening the heart
To know that God himself graced our table
With His kindness and compassion, His touch
Moving us all to know the closeness of family
With stirrings of faith in the Father leaving us
Alive with the assurance that God will lift hearts
Who have lost the small moments to death
Leaving shadows of darkness threaded through
The light that enriches the heart with pure love

In the small moments… I find eternal peace

Premium Member The Corner

Twelve rounds of excitement
Two rivals smiling in the middle of enchantment

The bell rang...
Both fighters were wild
Two rough hands still mild
The bell rang again -- end of first round.

Second round...
Gaiting horses, eluding kicks and punches
Baiting bodies, protruding hunches

Third round...
Fighters in merry-go-round
Hide and seek on square ground

Fourth round...
Faces smearing, eyes rolling
Bodies perspiring, allies chanting

Fifth round...
Feet hovering, foot work disintegrated
Temperature rising, hard punches connected

Sixth round...
Audience clapping; boxers hitting
Attacks jabbing, gloves slugging

Seventh round...
Whacking arm follows, gloves batting
Ulnar bone gallows, heads swatting

Eighth round...
The champ fighter grinning, nailing one hard scour
Second fighter fainting, flailing above the litted floor

Ninth round...
Stronger fighter grinning again with right hook
Left hook thrashing, down the second fighter of blind look

Tenth round...
Challenger flogging, kept on rising
Challenger pelting, the champ fell on floor gasping

Eleventh round...
Both warriors pummeling, whipping, jostling
Switching, clubbing, lashing, drubbing
Both fighters fell on adulated white floor
Before the ninth count both warriors stood tall 
  on wrestled floor

Twelfth round...
Last two minutes of peppering round
Both fighters staggering until the challenger dropped first and gaunts.
Champ still standing, waiting for the ten counts...

Last twenty five seconds of the final round,
First fallen fighter with a bigger heart stands
Champ dropped on his knees --
Laid flat on aproned, famed canvass
Ten counts numbered as confetti lands...

The winner and challenger standing in the corner, beaten and bruised
Bleeding profusely after winning a dream never cruised.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Spit and the Ocean

Spit and the Ocean


The sand spits at me as I walk
an uninvited interloper
content in my inane belief
I leave disappearing footprints.
Theft, pilferage, armed robbery,
committed in covetous collusion,
sunrises seared into memory,
plagiarized in dreams.
Thundering timpani of surf
rolling rounded stones,
salty chime of windblown sand
peppering the sea wall,
distant fog horn tuba -
ushers in the dimly lit aisles
following history’s lights
through shifting shoals.
The air shrieks, the ocean growls,
the sand burns, the brine stings,
the surf - in foaming rage - erases
all sign of my presence,
spitting as I walk away.



1/29/2016

Last Night, God

Last night, God, I did it – 
I am a sinner, not the first time
I part my lips, to commune with God
But I secede; and successfully, I fail
Last night, I only invoked the first devotion
God, my lips said; and that was all
I bit my lip and felt my warring veins
My face pressed on the pillow
My vain hands clamped under
My eyes folded tight, to see God
And I did – 

My lips spoke no other word
God, speechless, weary, in the morning
I part my lost lips again and open my raw eyes
To find the night gone, my pillow soaked
A tear of the left and a tear on the right
Like two thieves on the cross, the tears mock
What am I, Lord? I saw you and said nothing
What thing am I? Peppering my tongue
I’ve dropped my lip, to say Amen
Will I be redeemed? 

Listen, silent, hapless

Last night, hallowed God
I called you with my blood and heart
Drunk, I staggered to your throne
Called, stark, you answered
But Lord God, of stunning eternity

A nonentity kept you waiting

In the morning, ashamed
I crane my neck, cracking my lip
Tinkering my literature

One more time, seeking your face
And I bow in awe, little creature!
Anthology of iniquity…
How for me, you, divine puzzle!  
In your Pantheon, still wait on me!
Form: Narrative

January Night

peppering my skin
ice shivers off swirling wind
sucking my warm breath away
tiny pointed star
snowflakes fill the dark night sky
lighted windows shine welcome

skin tingles in warm
air close to burning brick hearth
cheeks red as autumn apples
pecking on windows
the raging storm begs entrance
I draw the curtains tighter

Copyright, September 19, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Form: Choka

Peppermint Oil

carousing through the net & pausing to finger the thinning spots on his scalp 
remembering the moments when women in his earlier life would run their fingers through the flowing locks---
having watched his compadres become cue-balls or
slowly peppering away individuals on their way to
pure silver,
he stumbled upon an herbalist blog that
discussed pouring peppermint oil
upon his noggin to stimulate the follicles of
his hair
in hopes that he would be handsome again.

vanity provided the impetus to push our man in
question
to purchase his peppermint oil
and to dowse his head in the straight substance
in hopes of growing hair
throwing much caution to the wind
running with the advice of the
herbalist.

in no time at all his head began to cool
it cooled to the point of freezing & then the
freezing began to burn & then the burning
began to numb his whole head until the feeling
seemed to creep inside his throat 
panging at his temples & he 
found himself sitting on his
knees in front of the toilet
trying to make himself puke
but the sickness jerked at
him as if it would never
quite stop.

he stuck his index finger down his throat
forcing himself to vomit & 
though the vomiting took his
mind off the sickening 
numbness of his whole
head, it only did so for a few seconds---
he crawled on hands & knees to his bed, 
laying there in a world of brand new pain
until morning when he awoke from a sleep he
somehow attained---
after rolling out of a skull-crashing dream
he threw away the oil & 
not a hair grew anywhere near his head.

Dawn

Thoughts flapping around like untied shoelaces. Breaking my stride and slowing me down. A fleeting smile crosses my lips as I think about what someone once told me. “ Don't think too much”, “ Don't live in the past”. I wonder why we hate the past so much. Aren't we supposed to derive lessons out of it or are we supposed to discard it like a child's toy – broken and irrelevant. To be stepped over and forgotten. Are the flowers and thorns of the past to be accepted, and made our teachers for the future or are they to be avoided like lepers peppering the streets of old Calcutta.

I see the last passing compartment of the last train I was to take. Lights flickering behind the Guard's compartment signalling it's end. It felt like providence when the winds drew into my ears, the haunting melodies of Jim Morrison singing, “This is the end, my beautiful friend. The End”. I am now greeted by the engulfing darkness and the sounds of downing shutters as the last humans, along with the last niceties, move away and merge into the balmy night. It is time to leave. It is time to live. It is time.


Page break
Her fragrance lingers on
crumpled sheets
Form: Haibun

The Riddle's Metaphors

I was running from a riddle's metaphors 
In a house constructed without doors
I kept running into rooms where I had already been
Now the soles on my boots are wearing thin
Speeding up is the only option I've yet to try
Sanity has been obscured by my runner's high 

An echoing noise I fear I shall hear forevermore
Are the sounds of salty tears peppering the floor
My mind's pencil was having trouble drawing breaths
And my tank was running on the vapors fuel had left
The slick saline solution that covered the ground
Ironically took its creator down

Slipping on a teardrop I landed next to the truth
Only to find that is was lacking couth
It's sophistication was riddled with holes
As if a chunk of swiss were at the controls
I ease towards the cheese on the set trap
I grab the holy truth and I hear a, SNAP!


____________________________________________
For the contest : I slipped on a teardrop and landed.....
Sponsored by :  Cindi Rockwell
Written on :  Summer Solstice 2016
Form: Rhyme

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