Best Period Poems
Implant within me a seed monthly, though the pulverization derides me. Let it conjure hope and solace to shatter my reality as venomous weeds entwine it, sickening me as I lay still in the liquid birthed from my own fruit. Implant within me a seed; let the feral roots ensnare it, suffocating my every breath and cell until it ruptures--obliterated within my frail and aching tree. It be destined to return but stripped of the avant-garde its predecessor once possessed. Implant within me a seed; it’ll part for months, leaving my psych mangled as blood seeps through trypophobic perforations crafted solely by its hand. The seed, thriving as I decay, renders its final blow the day we die. Implant within me a seed; force it into a sanctum where it does not belong, and let fate, warped and distorted, contort my marred soul. That which I once refused to acknowledge shall now delude my senses, forcing me to reach for those who feel not love but only pity for my aberrant roots. Implant within me a seed; let me perish within its absence, yet perpetually suffer under its presence. Wound me with my own creation.
Your end creates you
It will return to rip you
Plant it, watch it die
in the frail blue dusk,
that comes as prelude to dark,
there's a fragile lapse,
one period so oblique,
it's called neither night or day.
this brief moment comes
as if designed to be our
period of adjustment,
before darkness wraps its arms
and the daylight lets us go
there is grace and ease,
that punctuates the twilight,
pausing long enough,
so that we are given chance
to embrace what we can't see.
when last,... it's my time...
to walk in frail blue dusk
one last time, I pray
to have the same exquisite
period of adjustment
_____________________________________________________
Contest: "Time is of the Essence"
Resubmitted for P.D.'s contest: 100 In a Row #13
I am
a period. When you see me it means
a full stop. A break for
the reader.
The end of the sentence.
I end your story. Sometimes not soon
enough.
Sometimes I am not found for
long stretches of time. I am hiding it seems.
Good sentence structure
brings me acceptable in the world.
I like that.
When I am used correctly. Oops.
Not in intervals durations infrequently
or repeatedly and wherever and whenever.
Often I go where I do not
belong just because I can.
I am not pretty
like a exclamation mark
or a semi-colon or even the lovely
question mark no I am just a dot.
But I am demanding. ClOSE the door.
or I can be polite. Please close the door.
So this is my story.
I am
a period. When you see me it means
a full stop. A break for
the reader.
The end of a sentence.
And in ending always remember to
wrap it up with me.
The end.
______________________________
September 8, 2015
Free Verse - Personification
For the contest, Punctuation Personified, sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
9th Place
Vintage Retro Period
As for our periods of furniture–
not sure if Vintage Retro's one!
However, since I spanned so many years,
it seems to me this should be done!
My influence can still be seen in homes.
Some people often think it strange,
to cling to my old Vintage Retro look
and never want to make a change.
So pleased my unique period ruled well –
for thirty years I did endure!
My decades had a flavor of their own–
so powerful was my allure!
My special time was dominated by
the colors green, orange, and gold;
Formica, Lucite, vinyl, walnut, chrome –
outstanding – very sleek and bold.
My Vintage Retro period – well-loved
by most – did fade away, its true.
Still Retro-furnished homes are so enjoyed
by visitors who get a view.
My long-remembered items bring a crowd
at Vintage Retro store displays!
The prices paid are unbelievable –
so pleased I'm worth much more these days!
To prove my point, you might take time to see
the photo grouping up above!
My Vintage Retro gems still grace their home
forever more for them to love!
Sandra M. Haight
~First Place~
Contest: Punctuation Personified
Theme: Period Furniture
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Judged: 10/06/2015
Note: Vintage Retro means actually made in '50s, '60s or '70s
The term Retro by itself can mean old but also newly made to look like old
Vintage Retro includes: Mid-Century, Mid-Century Modern, and Danish Modern styles
A period am I; you do not see
me all that much in poems any more.
At times I’m placed by poets awkwardly
before a line is finished! I implore
you, don’t disgrace me. Surely you can use
me easily. I’m just a little dot!
I end each sentence. How can you abuse
me? Try to think of what your teachers taught!
Each sentence has a subject and a verb,
but sometimes phrases enter in the flow
to lengthen sentences, and they might curb
you if my friend, the comma, is your foe!
Review things! I am not my comma friend.
Please put me where each sentence has its end!
For the Punctuation Personified Contest of Debbie Guzzi
* by the way, seems we can put the period anywhere except in the Soup title heading after abbreviations like Ms.
I know you're just a tiny dot,
but in the world of writing, not
a mark more powerful exists.
When thoughts get jammed up, you insist
they separate and free your spot.
When composition chaos reigns,
you enter. Sentences regain
their clarity. There's none like you.
The comma and conjunction do
their part, but champion you remain.
We both perform our jobs with verve.
I, semicolon, also serve
to punctuate; but I’m not strong
like YOU, my hero. Am I wrong
to want you? I know; I’ve got nerve!
I’ve been in love with you for years.
Now, please allay this lady’s fears
and say you love and want me too!
I’ll bid my loneliness adieu.
Our friends, the question marks, will cheer.
June 16, 2019, entered in Brian Strand's Your Choice (10) Personification Poetry Contest
May 20, 2021
entered in the Personification Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
I once thought being a period was such a drag.
I'm usually at the end of most sentences, like this one.
How dull is that? You see, a question mark get's a person curious.
And an exclamation point is filled with excitement!
But a period just follows after the end of a statement.
Or so I thought.
One day, I happened to hear something new and amazing.
Sally said to Sam, "I never want to go on a motorcycle with
you ever again, Sam, and I mean it, PERIOD!"
I had never heard the likes of this before!
Sally not only mentioned my name, but she
shouted it out at the top of her lungs!
Then I heard something like this again from Jim Bob to Claire.
"Claire!" he said, "I will never go out on a date with you
again, PERIOD!" The emphasis was on the period.
So, I guess I must be important enough for people to holler
out my name like that.
I feel better now about being a period.
Written on 9/2015
She goes through many other phases
One is about her period cramp
She bleeds but she lives
And she never gets behind
Come up with everything
Whatever it be
Many times it makes her cry
But those are the natural cycle
Which she has to face most of her lifetime
Struggles hard
Even when her body is not in condition to do so
And completes her task by not even letting you know
Every month it arrives
Without any invitation from her side
Pain gets double day by day
And a day comes when it too leaves her in her way
This is one of the pain she hides
Never letting you know
What's on her mind
I am the end,
the last act, the final fleck,
the teeny, tiny terminal pixel,
but I am mighty.
I may be small but I have muscle.
I apply the brakes
and the word parade obeys.
I hold up my hand, blow my whistle,
and watch the traffic halt.
I am the language transit cop,
the red road sign painted "STOP!"
Language is my rodeo;
I corral the wild vocabulary ponies,
break them,
make them wear bits, bridles;
I am the word whisperer.
Important documents -
The Constitution of the United States of America,
The Bill of Rights,
The Emancipation Proclamation -
are what they are because of my mark;
without it, they would be gibberish.
Books would be nonsensical run on sentences,
characters shuffling willy-nilly everywhere,
no order, no structure,
misunderstood,
just silly words wagging their tongues.
I am Doctor Lockjaw;
I bar the word mill door.
Language is my life.
Copyright, September 9, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
I am the period, the rest,
The pause; that period when
Ladies wore masks of gauze
And kings, their followers
Lesser men, dabbed the dot
Full stop with pen
And in some secret microdots,
FBI and commies played, games
Of intrigue (taxpayer paid)
Then further down the page
You’ll see, a broad ellipsis
…Three times me
It signifies a break or fit,
Perhaps when writer tires
Of script
But now in modern times
We see, they’ve gone and
Pixolated me
There on screen, no longer ink,
No pages rest by kitchen sink
So flip the leafs? No wait, just think!
Point your finger, download link.
Written for Personification Contest 24/9/15
Second Period Ode
Michael, Jaydin, Jin, Ashley, Andre, Ametriyus, J’Maine, Amari, Beijae, Morgan, Dr. Corbin and Mrs. Tobey
O, backpack with your books and pencils and things,
You weigh a ton, but you are my wings.
You carry my stuff wherever I go
But sometimes I wish
That you could stay home.
You are the hump on my back,
Like a camel in the desert.
In reality you are my treasure.
You carry my dreams to the ocean of knowledge.
You’re my path to success,
My key to college.
You used to be shiny and new
but
now you are heavy and dirty too.
With duct tape and staples to keep you together
You are full of promises and hope
And I’ll keep you forever.
Tell all the worlds about the treasures found
Renaissance trace spellbound in the ancient form,
Tender and haunting; an era of time curves around
Past the present to a future beset with tech charm.
Historical pages cling romantically to our eyes,
Each epoch defines a sparkling gem of surprise,
Their fluttered rebirth is like stars changing sizes
Release by time flown from the damp demise.
That dip their limbs to bow unto gloss modernity
Like the artist and sculpture, they paint a world.
Of aesthetic peculiarities and lofty discovery,
Longing to find a place soaring free in the soul.
A vault of citadels says much; then said no more
Deep within, ancient wonders rise from the ashes
Talented beauty weaves from centuries we adore,
The time and place asleep in a waste wilderness.
The plague of colors survives in medieval triumph,
England, a literary monument of architect literature.
Finds the noble heart to express cherished breath
Creating the etiquette claimed by French culture.
Such dept alone could not be paid by metamorphism
Humanism fading in a mist has its place in society,
Heightened with extreme lust and erotic mannerism,
Italy removes the conscious veil from bizarre reality.
Ceiling significant through music strings serenade,
Renaissance dazed; allusion lay dreaming half awake
The inquisition of fate went on pilgrimage made,
German sentence commute through the classical gate.
The Netherlands explore and navigate all the distances
Byzantine adherence goes beyond impregnable walls,
depict faces of the Tsars persist in the military hypothesis,
And labyrinths take refuge in Russian banqueting halls.
The richest measured proportion of distilled beverage,
Vodka values more than all the dull limited senses,
Spanish religion repository of the myths and rage
Set the path where new western experience commences.
Portugal selfie, the pinnacle piece that thirsts for commerce
Lisbon flourished paints and medicines with Flemish.
Poland concept and conflict gain border land dominance,
Spice trade rises high and makes indiscreet allusion flourish.
We travel far beyond renaissance to the greatest monument,
When the transition of culture from the middle age evolved
Mesmerized art is a rediscovery of an enduring cultural movement,
The monarch of the Roman Empire renaissance man inspired.
I’m always the last.
Yet I wield immense power.
Use me, abuse me.
So prattle on, I’ll let you
corral your thoughts, let you breathe.
For Deb's Period contest...
9/10/15
A period of emotions - I'm a command I'm an order
I'm right there at the end of the border.
I don't have an identity of my own
A character that you give, is what I borne.
I carry much anger, much frustration
Sometimes I'm used to deliver news of devastation.
I carry tears from the war of treachery
And at times I carry screams of political mockery.
I'm not happy even though I'm never alone
Incomplete statements are accompanied by my clones.
I'm the verdict, I'm the decision
I'm the king , the ruler of precision.
I'm dark at times, and at times I'm grey
I'm as sharp as the sun's ray.
I've meanings as deep as the oceans
I'm not just a period, I'm a period of emotions.
Second Period Ode
Michael, Jaydin, Jin, Ashley, Andre, Ametriyus, J’Maine, Amari, Beijae, Morgan, Dr. Corbin and Mrs. Tobey
O, backpack with your books and pencils and things,
You weigh a ton, but you are my wings.
You carry my stuff wherever I go
But sometimes I wish
That you could stay home.
You are the hump on my back,
Like a camel in the desert.
In reality you are my treasure.
You carry my dreams to the ocean of knowledge.
You’re my path to success,
My key to college.
You used to be shiny and new
but
now you are heavy and dirty too.
With duct tape and staples to keep you together
You are full of promises and hope
And I’ll keep you forever.