Best Persisted Poems


Premium Member Past-Life Nightmare

A child of four suffers recurring dreams,
disturbing parents and siblings with screams.
When she awoke, always sore in one knee;
next to a birthmark, it throbbed painfully.

Night after night she feared going to bed.
What caused these nightmares that raged in her head?
Even when grown, the torment persisted,
so a therapist’s aid she enlisted.

“Hypnosis,” said he, “might offer some clues.
Why not try it?  You’ve just bad dreams to lose.”
Once under, he guided her to a room --
here people’s lifetimes in books were entombed.

“Find one that is yours,” her counselor said.
Quickly she did, but before it was read,
she felt an ache, saw just a faint title.
The words, she thought, said “Alister Bridle.”

The hypnotic trance now suddenly broke;  
puzzling questions “Mr. Bridle” evoked.
For many years she thought that was her name;
perhaps a past life had been filled with pain.

Who was this man?  She simply had to know!
Seasons passed, summer suns made way for snow.
In Florida now, 1998,
she thought all the nightmares she had escaped.

But strange dreams always catch us by surprise --
when the lights grow dim, our minds fantasize.
Cloaked in velvet, she left her parents’ farm,
stealing away on a late autumn morn’.

To meet her love, she climbed on the carriage,
knowing her folks would forbid their marriage.
Warm-hued leaves carpeted the hillside road,
and her pulse beat fast; she’d soon join her beau.

She thought only of him; joy cast its smile,
but that’s when he called, “Alice, the bridle!”
The leather band broke and wrapped ‘round her knee.
To the ground she was pulled; her horse ran free.

She met death, but past-life dreams recycle,
and she’d never been “Alister Bridle.”

Premium Member The Last Love Letter To the West

I can't recall the day you left
 Empty words going west

~To The West Coast~

My love, my sweet love -- my soulmate
I will cherish our time, with the sun
My love, my friend, my lover
Today we part, on this day June 3rd 15

My love, my sweet love -- my everything
On this day, I will take a long way home
On this day, I will look back and smile
To know it was not a dream

My love, my sweet love -- my true love
With this pen, I write this letter, 
My bed now knits a different sweater, 
Preparing my linens for darker weather
I want you to know, I'm writing this with a swollen heart
It was never you, it was I who grew apart
Patience kept you warm when I was cold
Every night, I cried, I tried to feed you my dreams
My hollow soul sat like a fool under a heavy cloud 
Holding back, the need of proceeding who I was

My love -- please forgive me
I was inconsiderate of us
I would lay without opening the windows of trust
Your smiles I wiped away my faults
However you stayed, you watched, 
You meant to kiss and stop the pouring rain 
You kept strong, holding my hand, 
When everything around my life persisted to perish
You soaked every time I stormed, 
I regret when I refused to let you touch the women in me

My love -- it was never you
I was broken before our hearts met
Like a villain and a thief, 
You took my diamonds in hopes of seeing them shine again
Your demons found a way into the shadows of my life
Trying to complete what you could not see
You could not feel, still, you believed in me
My dreams, you held me close, loving who I am

My love -- you are the sunrise the sunset
Your limbs kept me up when I would fall
I will miss the touch of light in every stare
Thank you for not looking my way, the day you left
I did not want you to see the mask I used to cover it all
Pretending, I was strong when I was weak
Knowing I had fallen in love with you
Forever yours,

Premium Member Thru Maritime Miles

Thru maritime miles of minions in motion
We hedge our opinions while pledging devotion	
To serving the Captain and sharing our smiles
Through barrels of onions and flea-bearing trials

But even the pirates who pose in a rumble
Are learning the merits of those who are humble
The path of our choosing where sinning is pleasure
Is better for losing than winning a treasure

I plunged overboard when I soared off a plank
At the point of a sword and a sore lady's prank
The captain's first mate made her daddy agree
That my fate was a date with the fish in the sea

I knew she was baiting my body at brunch
To catch me in waiting and serve me for lunch
All pirates are worthy to fish and to feast 
But no one should make me a dish for a beast

From well on the brink to a splash in the sink
I fell in a flash for a female fink
I knew she was watching me fall in the tank
And laughing discreetly with Daddy to thank

I should have resisted the words that she said
But when she persisted they went to my head
I told her I loved her but so did my mate
Who never returned from his very first date

It seems bloody retching but fatefully true
When somebody fetching is fatal for you
You flee from the danger but fractured you find
That pretty young stranger has captured your mind

You think she is true but you never can tell,
Her saltwater stew is a bitter farewell,
A mob in her keep is the poorest of help,
Who force you to leap in a forest of kelp,

Though mad as an adder I drifted from reach
To bob like a bladder in search of a beach
The Great White beside me was my willing host
To have me for dinner and eat me the most

Then something resembling a storm with a tail
Came surging at me in the form of a whale
I lost my composure and when I passed out
She tossed me all over to sit on her spout

Upon this brave lady who skirted the water
I fled for my life from the ship captain's daughter
She brought me to land on the girth of her blubber
To flip me ashore like a lousy landlubber

From deep in the sea to a seat by a seal
The freedom I keep is a cheap kind of deal
The beach that I sleep on is sunny and hot
So happy to be where my honey is not...


Premium Member To Die yet to Live Again

They held me down
and injected me with a needle 
that took away my ability to sleep

It is true
I haven’t slept in six years

I imagine this persisted consciousness 
will remain with me after my body dies

Then there was yet another needle
that transferred the landscape of hellfire

Will I toast for all eternity 
is this the secret of the Illuminati

I can only point to others
that suffered the same fate
Aaron Hernandez

But who can help me now 
is this a puzzle to be solved 

When I’m gone
all that will remain 
is this cryptic poem

Yet I imagine no one will care
or even understand
the evils that men do

Premium Member A Newspaper Boy's Christmas Dream

The family was poor
and on Christmas Eve
he went to bed still hungry
after his meagre evening meal.
 
He slept fitfully and dreamt
he had to work on Christmas Day,
distributing flyers to the people in town.
 
Hear, hear, read the news,
Today a Holy Child is born.
 
He ran from church to church,
from avenue to avenue,
from restaurant to restaurant,
spreading the good and holy news.
”Baby Jesus is born, Jesus is born!”
Soon he was tired for lack of food.
But though the job was badly paid,
he persisted for he believed
one day Jesus would bless him too.
 
So he went on, giving his flyers
proclaiming the holy news
until a strange light attracted him.
Slowly he approached and saw
a small Child in a manger
smiling softly at him.
“Come near my friend, come hear.
Look there are better flyers
beneath my cosy manger.
Go and distribute these.”
 
The newspaper boy obeyed.
He read the flyer and jumped with joy.
Quickly he returned to the centre
and with renewed energy he shouted:
 
“Hear, hear, read the news,
Heaven is full of repentant sinners,
come one, come all,
Heaven is there for you,
that's why He was born this day,
come hear the good news.
It is for you.
Merry Christmas.”

Premium Member To the One I Lost

We both cared so much, you completed me,
Evidently you were meant for me.
Love persisted to manifest
Although at the same time blessed,
Till infinite heaven
Called, and forgiven.         
I am driven                      
Belonging
Longing,
Tears.

Plead for closure of long years.
Prey as feathers picked off, death fret,
Like a scared bird, tangled in a net.
You completed me, I cannot forget.
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Madelaine's Chalice

On that summer’s day when we first meet and kissed,
I knew you Madelaine as one I could adore.
Against your family’s wishes, I still persisted
in wooing you; we’d wed or I’d be your paramour. 

The levant winds blew through Spain’s hills unfettered
bringing death to suitors far and wide from above.
We had cause to feel our choice had made us debtors,
leaving our love a littered path, a ball-fisted glove.

Like Romeo I’d leave, not die, but without a trace
for I’d not hurt you more and death would be too much.
I’d give you time to heal your sorrows to embrace,
to come to terms with the rightness of our chaste touch.

In a far off land, I recall your devotion;
your lamented father’s wish for a princely dower, 
but all have died who wished our love to be undone.
Soon, I’ll claim my Lady from her empty tower.

Fate gifted us passion, drinking from its chalice.		 
We waded through flaming waves of rising ardor,
in your summer home, your primrose covered palace.		
The memories of your touch make absence harder.	

As I looked across the wind-blown spray of ocean,	
my mind turned to the sadness of our parting hours	
Kneeling, I begged for a distance closing potion		
so I could reclaim you to our rosy bower.

I see your longing, desperate, lovely, face				
endowed in fears dire depth as we parted from the clutch.	
I reminded you distance could not erase love’s trace	
or lesson my need to feel your soft, gentle touch.			

Last week, I sent a love-soaked, tear-stained letter;		
now I return aboard a ship to my sweet dove.			
I hope my missive sent has made you feel better,			
nevermore will I be denied the touch of my love.			


By Robert Lindley and Deborah Guzzi

Premium Member Music of the Night

I searched for you
Followed in the wake of your song
The sillage of your sensual scent 
Long after the sun had lost its glow
I persisted, with cards in hand, 
Defying destiny, undeterred
By night and melancholy darkness.  

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

“On Broadway” Contest
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
        Placed 1st
© 27th June, 2020

An Accidental Overdose

She fought daily with the agony.
never knew when it would strike.
It affected all corners of her world
waking, sleeping, laughing, and crying.
Early one morn, she lost the battle.
Through the night she had struggled,
to rid the ache in her head.
She tried them all.
One here and one there,
still it persisted,
another, then, another.
She had forgotten the total.
The compounds crescendoed
and released an avalanche of effects.
Breathing crawled, heart decelerated
and mentation retarded.
Then all stopped.
It was an accidental overdose.
Just a girl trying to ...
stop the pain.

The Steel of a Mother

Her face is invaded by networked wrinkles
For she gave to the world all her valued best,
Her input to the current world has tired her
And she looks up to the grave for final rest.

She chose for herself a deprived lifestyle
So as to give to the young something good,
Cars and houses and clothes and fine jewelry –
All were junk if her children had decent food.

The jingling of up-to-the-minute gadgets
Does not amaze this brave and daring seed
That persisted through the lows of a mean life
To birth and nurture the wits that ages feed.

The ticking of time has forsaken her
And failing strength betrays her fast
Yet the world salutes her undying feats
As she unbowed breathes her last.

Premium Member Beaten By Wind and Rain

The wind persisted in blowing me about,
whipping the willow branches with its beat.
It continuously raged, a tempest storm,
a force of nature that never bows in defeat.

Now, its companion has soaked me through
Rain has chilled me right down to the bone.
It's brought weapons of hail, the size of plums,
pummeling me as if it were throwing stones.

My tears have mingled with drops of cold rain.
Gale force winds have taken me to my knees.
It sounds as if it's screaming my name...
I reply, "Release me from your throes, please."

If wind and rain could screech in laughter,
I'd swear I heard them cackling like witches.
My thoughts were scattered; I was filled with fear,
as wind hurled hail stones with well-aimed pitches.

I had no strength in me to fight nature's opponents.
Combined in combat, they held far too much power.
No longer could I hold either of them at bay,
I cringed and withered as if I were a wilting flower.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

This Is a Test

This is a test
It's only a test

wait ... this can't be a test
if this were a test
you'd be directed to your seat

This is not a test
I Repeat
This is not a test

in the event of an actual test
you would need a sharpened
number 2 pencil 
(why not number 1)
(did that one break?)
and you'd be required to
put away all electronic devices
(how silly)

If said test were tested
would it be protested?
would I be arrested?
if I persisted and peacefully resisted?
all the while undressed
addressing those invested
tempting tempers tested 
at tests detested?

*this futile attempt at humo(u)r will
  self destruct in 30 seconds or less*

This has been a test
or was it?
© Tim Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A silent witness

Bound to the bark, it drank the rain,
And spread tendrils again and again
Unnoticed beauty, soft and deep,
While hurried, humans let affection sleep

They rush on by, with eyes averted,
A quiet presence, quite deserted
Their gaze on blossoms, bright and bold,
My subtle story left untold

But I persisted, strong and still,
My purpose held against their will
I nourished life, unseen, unheard,
A haven for love's tiniest of birds

So let them chase with fleeting grace,
After vibrant flowers that die in time and space
I am the bedrock, deep and low,
Where roots run strong, and secrets grow

They overlooked; they did not see,
the quiet worth that dwelled in me
And though they're gone, and seasons turn,
It will be their loss that they did not learn

On an ancient, gnarled oak's dark side,
Grew, a humble, verdant tide
Just a simple, protective green hue,
A silent witness, a moss heart forever true

Premium Member Casualty of Your Cruelty

A
person
at times can
feel like they are
a casualty 
of cruelty, at least
in some small way or other.
Some attacked my early writing.
Their scathing reviews I can’t forget,
yet I persisted doing what I do.
Not letting oneself feel defeated is
the only way to continue -   but
your cruelty, my love, hurt worse. 
You did not want to read my
special poem, so you 
threw it to the floor. 
It felt like you
were stomping
on my
heart.

Writing From the Heart

I wrote this poem upon my lovers face,

So she would know that my love could never be erased,

I wrote this poem upon my lover's neck,

So she'd know,

Its her mind and soul I love, 

Her thoughts and ideas I respect.

I wrote this poem upon my lover's breast,

To be sure that I had a place to sleep

after my night of conquest.

I  continued pass her ribs down to her belly,

And with careful attention 

And the best penmanship

To seal thy love  

I wrote upon her hips. 


From her hips down to her thighs,

 I wrote the many special things

So she would never have to ask why,

From where does my love spring,


I wrote this poem upon my lover's spine. 

To unveil the riches and treasures she'd once twined.

I wrote this poem upon my lover's arms,

To remind her I'll hold her and protect her from harm.

I wrote this poem upon my lover's inner thighs.

So I could recite this, after traveling her 

 sky.

In this age of tattoos, I broke the rules,

Like a child with a pen....

Stands on couch and stool,

I wrote all over the walls of her heart,

While substance and meaning seeped in.


Her skin sustained the ink like ancient hieroglyphics.


I wrote this poem upon my lover's back,

My eyes, witness to these erotic facts.

With lover's ink, across her smooth skin,

I wrote of the honey dripping from her pours,

Of how the ink that runneth, 

And love that cometh blends.


I wrote upon my lover, with perminate ink,

from head to toe,

Heavan knows I had more to say,

But I wrote as far as the ink persisted to flow.

For Shannon

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