Best Persisting Poems
The Dark Side of October
Late October moon is waking, through this cemetery shaking,
shaking as the cold wind breaking, walking ‘neath an old oak tree.
Stones like sentries undertaking, guarding graves as hearts are aching,
aching for the still ones staking, such an eerie sight to see –
dark and dreary, I’m so leery, such an eerie sight to see –
is this but a reverie?
In the graveyard shadows shimmer, dark of night is growing dimmer,
dimmer still without a glimmer, shadows ‘round the old oak tree.
Shadows dancing ever nearer, nearer still and getting clearer,
clearer like distorted mirror, twisting ghastly sight to see –
growing vastly, looming lastly, such a ghastly sight to see –
certainly a reverie?
Piercing sounds are penetrating, ear drums deafening pulsating,
ringing louder, devastating, echoes off the old oak tree.
Echoes bouncing screeching grating, ever louder agitating,
instigating, fears creating, from this ghoulish sight to see –
Am I mulish, maybe foolish, such a ghoulish sight to see –
surely just a reverie?
In the dark my head is spinning, round and round these sights imprinting,
fusing on my brain beginning, questioning my sanity.
All these sights and sounds are weighing, weighing as the ghouls are playing
playing as they do their preying, preying on my vanity –
I am praying, ghouls are swaying, preying on my vanity –
have I lost my sanity?
Eerie night just seems persisting, lasting as my mind is twisting,
waiting for daylight’s assisting, lighting up the old oak tree.
Eerie sights and sounds now fading, dark of night for daylight trading,
light of day is now invading, leaving me to clearly see –
seeing nearly, life so dearly, oh so clearly now I see –
must have been a reverie…..
or have I lost my sanity?
July 26, 2018
I can’t breathe
still in my shackles
no chance to escape my isolation
cries of anguish emancipated
from an awareness that is unfree
the stain is but human made
a long history of human trade
Humanity dehumanised
and put to shame..
I can’t breathe
air is not for free
I have to pay the fee
the earth does not to me belong
It is not my right of birth
as if my breed had done something wrong!
for water, I have to dig wells and pits
as I am denied rivers, lakes and seas..
what shall I do to stay alive?
peel my skin!
for you to admire my drive?!
How would I,
hate, contempt, intolerance.. survive?!
I can’t breathe
deep are my roots
my heart, a mine of diamond
why don’t you see my immense wealth?!
why do you still confiscate my breath?!
and deprive my six and five
of a mundane dream and desire
of being decent and upright
why I have to pay a disastrous price?
my own flesh and blood a sacrifice!
I can’t breathe
Humanity still can’t breathe
a “house divided”
souls of shades moaning under sins weight
a sacred “eternal Truth” deafened
unfree souls kept pending
a body bleeding
a severe infection persisting
In need of breath, Love and Trust
I need to seal my chest bruises, heal my tortured soul
and regain my Oneness
my cause is just.
I can’t breathe
Long ago, a man named human had a dream
the emancipation spirit into his mind remained seared
“Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness”
in the promised Earth with a mine of Justice
“Justice, a reality for all of God’s children”..
Now, it is high time I won back my right
and freedom I could breathe
I have a mission beyond what you see of my skin
let me breathe and unveil the beauty within
I Can’t Breathe
A song of a poet
as peace deserted my mind
and ache resided in my heart
My words that couldn’t remain silent
flowed to reach your Hearts.
* My humble work is a voice I couldn't suppress and I wanted to share with my dear fellow poets and friends on Poetrysoup in the contest sponsored by Richard Lamoureux but couldn't compose it in time.
My cherished one How far will I love you
As far as where moons dissolve in deep seas
Beyond the edge of a tide's crimson hue
where your breath quickens sails with fevered breeze.
Alone I'll embark to our promised land
across long borders of unending pain
under fading stars above drifting sand
through anchored shadows of persisting rain.
Oh those foreign eyes yet not so distant
Your arms safe harbour of a warm embrace
Two hearts entwine against odds resistant
'Neath plum fog sky my lips outline your face.
Water rises 'tween silent hope and time
But water falls and I will make you mine.
For Silent One's - Mamma Poetry Contest
Where is the love, Mamma?
Through broken Louvre blinds, you're ever watching
Rosary beads clicking prayers on repeat mode, uttering
Your plethora of Faith keeps me steadily striving
Though, frustrated when peace will be arriving.
Under cover of the midnight moon, hookers seducing
Shady men with illicit wares aggressively peddling
Of changing our situation, I'm forever idealizing.
Enduring every day's trauma, just surviving.
Seeking direction from above, when is enough enough?
Tell me, Mamma ~ Where is the love?
Collective immorality still existing.
A ticking clock morality meekly resisting
Corruption, greed, and deceit still abounding
This life where goodness seems to be drowning.
A depraved degradation of insanity still insisting,
Death, broken hearts, crime persisting
In the chaos, qualms never ceasing.
lawlessness above the muck and mire rising
At the kerbside, a holy man piously preaching
Should I turn my cheek, still beseeching
Amidst their plundering and their leeching?
NO !!
Enough is Enough ~ Where is the Love?
Beyond-repair abhorrence, I'm escaping.
Fervently, I'm hoping and praying.
Please God, Mamma, be safe while I'm gone
I'll be back for you before long
In the eerie darkness, emotions imploding
Sirens blaring, with the sound of guns exploding
My shallow breath quickening, turning back with throat thickening
All the while, I'm screaming
Where is the love?
Back through this hellhole, I'm rapidly racing
All through the panic, still hoping and praying
Please God, Mamma ~ Be Safe, Be Safe, Be Safe
Neon blue-red lights flickering and flashing.
Through my open front door, I'm madly dashing.
Looming through the haze, I hear them saying.
'Sorry, Miss, yet another random shooting
Your Mamma just got caught in the cross-firing.'
The last thing I hear is my own voice crying.
MAMMA ~ THERE IS NO LOVE! THERE IS NO LOVE!
Tower, buzz and scurry
Oh great resilient city
Ahoy!
Alive. Scramble bustle earth's
ethnicities
On lurid quests--
A pendulum of tantric turmoil and
Blessed harmony
Quixotic city--brash,
Sangfroid merotomized and
Chrematistic--metro nonpareil.
See a myriad melange of
Tortured splenetic
Souls and great spirits
Noble and soothfast
Great city, your hecatombs
Of underground trains
Roar scream in
Hodge-podge graffiti attire
Fat fuming brattling buses
Grunt their huffpuffs,
And nervous cars scissorcut
Impatiently betwixt tarred and
Cemented streets
August and capacious
Ferruminated grey glass and steel
Towers--Aeeries in obeisance to the
Heavens, erupt in anabasis at the azure
Pearly welkin,
Humming diapasons of marvelous
Melismatic tunes
A gallimaufry of cacaphony and
Sweet sounds--the
Great Metropolis persistently
Thrives.
Streets adorned with sylph fashion
Models, conute churls, street
recrement--dazed and forgotten men,
Enticing shuck and jive
Blandishing street vendors,
Natty brujo business gentry
With their helotry on a
Ferris wheel of daily
Triumphs and defeats and
Cheeky mendicants
Shuffle along allegro vivace
Howling chorus songs amidst a
Torrent of raining dollars and
Coins floating in the skies over
The brazen metropolis.
Snuffling restaurants like hives
Humbuzz the grandiloquence,
Pithy slang and sententious
Persiflage of the day.
A truly syncratic parley
Of passions sentient
Of crimes basilic
Of arts sacerdotal and gratuitous
Of fashions arabesque and outre
Of plays frivolous and profound
Of music sericeous and truculent
Of money pursuits solonic
Of loves ascendant and descentdant
Of rejections mournful and joyous
An e'er persisting cha-cha-cha and
Boogie-woogie of the fierce
Bustling bubbling bold city,
Pendulumming pandaemoniums and
Resolutions, day
Upon pertinatious day.
David John Hart 2003 USA
There are many birds that gather
In my yard all through the year.
However, there is one I favor.
I wait for her to reappear.
You'll not find her at the feeder,
Like the others on the dole.
I think her mama taught her
Self sufficiency is the goal.
She and her faithful hubby
(Oh how that guy is trained)
Have come back to their love nest,
On my porch where it remained.
She showed him how to mend it
And he worked hard at his task.
Aything at all she wanted,
All she need to do was ask.
Their nest abuts the ceiling,
I bump my head before I see
If the little ones have hatched yet,
But if not they soon will be.
Once here, their mouths will open
And will never close again
Until they're big as their own parents,
But they're never offered grain.
No, it's bugs and bugs and more bugs.
They keep Mom and Daddy hopping.
She tells him they have mouths to feed.
There is no time for stopping.
While he is gathering the food,
She's shoving it into them
And passes him when he returns
From committing insect mayhem.
Now Daddy gets the job of feeding
While Mama's on the hunt.
In this nest of well fed children
You will never find a runt.
She grabs all of the mosquitos
That her little beak can hold.
Her mate is going out for more,
She doesn't have to scold.
You will not find better parents,
Human ones or otherwise,
Than these precious little swallows,
With a love that's supersize.
You would think they would be happy
When these youngsters leave the nest,
But they start another family
Busy swallows never rest.
Any villainous mosquito
Won't have a chance to do me harm
While these persisting swallows
Have a nest on my old farm
By: Joyce Johnson 6/17/03
"Chasing The Many Faces of God ( We the People Series)
There they are__ made each day no shame, no disgrace...
Constant reminders of who controls the human race.
We wake up every morning and get hot on the chase...
gotta get the God with big numbers on his face...
gotta hurry along... got no time to waste...
gotta be first in line_ anyhow in any case.
Jamming down my food, pimping my style in great haste...
no time to pull up my pants or tie my shoelace....
grabbing coke and candy_ gotta keep up the pace...
sodas, coffee, caffeine_ smoking crack-freebase.
Looking up in the air, and down in any space_ ....
over here or there_ it could be any place....
cheating through life_ up my sleeve_ a spare ace....
lies are the present _ truth is gone without a trace.
There they are__ made each day no shame, no disgrace...
constant reminders of who controls the human race.
persisting un regrettable unabatedly to abase...
our raped souls_ with anything antidepressant laced.
Why am I missing you in Wyomissing
In Wyomissing where WiFi waves warp Whitman's words
I'm wiki-wishing scrolling through digitized déjà vu
Mississippi .mp3s Mississauga .gifs Missy Elliott remixes
Mishmash of missed misplaced hyperlinks missing persons
Y-chromosomes yearning in Wyomissing DNA double-helix twisting
Your LOLs a lyric lipslock softly #hissing history rewriting
From Issigeac to Missouri's twisted Twitter feed Insta-stories fleeting
Absence makes the heart grow fonder indeed™ (patent pending).
Persisting thoughts insistent as pop-up ads spam in the place where I lived
Roaming data plans streaming memes gone mad mad libs mad love
Enlisting Siri Alexa cosmic GPS Googling "how to forget ex"
To where your heart might choose to compress decompress or stay perplexed
In Wyomissing I sigh and I sit bit by bit byte by byte
Sky vast as the cloud no storage limit limit does not exist
Committing to journey's jumbled algorithm rhythmic logarithm
To find you love my heart's lost rhythm arrhythmia of the soul
Dismissing doubts like spam keep on insisting
Our love's a flame forever resisting
Extinguishing persisting through trials by fire(wall)
Never desisting crossing all area codes morse codes zip codes
Twisting paths and listless constellations celestial navigation
I'll travel far ignoring Terms & Conditions contractual obligations
Transmitting love my heart's submitting committing omitting
To find you no more words omitting remitting or permitting
So here I am in Wyomissing's embrace interface about-face
Memories of kisses a lingering trace copy-paste ctrl+z can't erase
From Mississippi to Issigeac's charm disarm false alarm
I'll roam the world semantics disarm semantic fields semantic yields
But as I search for truth's revelation information overload
A twist so dark beyond explanation quantum entanglement implodes
In my quest I find a terse text next perplexed hex
From you my love "New phone who dis" Dismissed missed kissed-off list.
In Wyomissing where dreams unravel travel advisory
I learned the truth your heart's new travel Marvel universe multiverse
My heart now shattered can't keep dismissing missing hissing
Y R U ghosting me in Wyomissing Existing in digital abyss sing
Y am I missing U in Wyomissing?
One Halloween night I heard at my door
a tiny meow that I couldn’t ignore.
Although I was busy preparing for all
the kids celebrating the fun of mid-fall,
the sound kept persisting “Meow Meow,”
insisting, “Please open your door to me now.”
I opened my door, and looking so pretty
there on the welcome mat sat a kitty.
It hardly was bigger than my own fist.
I bent down to get it. I couldn’t resist!
I think it would say (if it knew how to speak)
“I’m precious.” I held that small cat to my cheek.
How soft was the fur of that black green-eyed cat.
Bad luck could not come from a cat cute as that.
At first I’d observed a small string round its neck
with a small card attached and I’d thought, “What the heck?”
Next I sat down with the cat on my lap,
for that tiny note I just had to unwrap.
In very small words like a child might write
was scrawled “please keep me.” Oh, boy, a fight
I’d soon have with hubbie, who would not be pleased
but when my heart’s set. . . it must be appeased!
Precious I named her and precious is she
years later – the Halloween Meow meant for me!
Oct. 18, 2020 for Halloween Meow Poetry Contest of Chantelle Anne Cooke
Mind trick
As I enter I am conscious
Of the dangers and effects
Even though it is alluring
I’ll regret in retrospect
But my mind just keeps persisting
This time too it’ll have its way
Even though I’m well acquainted
With the things it will display
And it’s just like at the movies
I am ready and all set
Soon my mind will start projecting
All the things I must forget
And I sit there while reliving
Awful things that made me sad
All the while infatuated
By the impact they once had
Though petrified I keep on viewing
Now and then I make a sound
I now see to my confusion
That these visuals still haunt
But the courage still eludes me
To get up and leave this space
And the horrors I’m enduring
Can be seen upon my face
As I slowly am regaining
The awareness that I lost
I agree my mind has tricked me
To forget what it would cost
So again I start the struggle
To escape the void I’m in
With a temporary promise
Not to enter here again.
Wendy Nipas
Divorcing self from awful negatives
I step ahead, bouncing through God’s power
Gladly inspired with cheerful directives
To share love's bliss and peace of grace-shower.
Triumphing against selfishness-trial
Freeing from “me-I-mine” so prison-bound
To reach-out for others, sans betrayal
My heart sows goodness seeds on kindness-ground.
Persisting against vain personal gain
I join with fellows midst blest partnership
Prevailing against separation-pain
Creating new vibrant relationship.
*2 John 1:3 Grace be with you, mercy, and peace, from God the Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, in truth and love.
May 16, 2025
8th place, "Divorced" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann; judged on 5/27/2025
Created from clay
yet possessing image of God
my heart glows with redemption’s grace
persisting to champion miracles
against human nature’s wreckage...
Thus, I can move mountains.
Gripped with divine presence
my faith trusts the Holy Spirit
strengthened to conquer trials
subduing torments of guilt midst pardon bliss
toward triumphant eternity...
Indeed, I can move mountains*.
*Matthew 17:20 “And Jesus said unto them... If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, ‘Remove hence to yonder place’; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.”
January 2, 2024
1st place, "I can move mountains" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon; judged on 3/2/2024
"To Touch That Blessed Word"
What is the difference?
how must i know?
but infatuated with your cool glance and clothes
infatuated with how you made me fell wanted,
with your acceptance
pride, and belief in me
Fascinated by you, persisting to
the golden glow in your eyes
the tenderness of your touch
appreciation and devout care
was it but only how you made me feel that caused me to return
is that enough for it to be granted that blessed word
or is it but only my imagination
creating something that years prolonged do search
where in earthliness i am left empty handed
with my head amongst the clouds
i question
through my death would you mourn?
for you said you loved me
but is love, love if not eternal...
How can my lips form these words
when my mind can not articulate
but then have i never loved?
As Death narrows in on the other
to call out its name bringing it to run rather, upon you
for that immensity and power, is the truest of unfiltered love
To lay down fear and step together
amongst the darkness of that inarticulate mind.
determines the hierarchy of this word
in which we persistently search.
Oh, wild fierce wind,
howling and whirling and twisting;
you are the biggest fear in my mind,
since a child my dread persisting.
I hate your whistling and your roaring zephyr screams,
you shake my windows until they will break it seems;
I flinch when you throw your lightning beams,
so, in my closet- that's where me . . . you will find.
______________________________
May 30, 2019
Poetry/Rhyme/Oh, Savage Wind
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1147-954-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, What Makes You Flinch
sponsor, Julie Leigh Rodenheaver
Honorable Mention
It has been a century and a half since emancipation.
However, stubbornly persisting is racial discrimination.
Despite many anti-discrimination laws today,
people are still breaking and ignoring them anyway.
Racists from all over are continuing to disobey.
The situation is just too perplexing to me.
Why can't we ever learn to live in harmony?
inspired by another member's poem