Best Piece Poems
Take away the frost of winter,
rid the land of biting snow,
then who would praise the warmth of August,
how could April rivers flow?
Hush the deafening crash of thunder,
dull the flash of lightning's thorn,
and who would feel the calm of silence,
when the still of dawn is born?
Sow your seeds of evergreens
so that spring’s soil year-round conceives,
then who could reap the multi-colored
glory of October leaves?
Look beyond this thick façade,
you'll find four seasons in my soul,
but take away a piece of winter
and you'll leave me cut, unwhole.
written 4 Feb 1985
"Slipping into a coma, the emptiness of a dreamless sleep.
Nightmares filling your head, where nothing is what it seems.
You're underground, desperately tryna' find your way out,
tunnels all around, but doors are no where to be found.
The ground has no traction, and you're floating above air.
Tryna' hold on to something, but there's nothing there.
And then you fall, and all you can hear,
is the rippling of your clothes, and the wind in your ear.
And just before you hit the ground,
you feel something grip you, without making a sound.
The next thing you know you're looking into a Man's eyes.
You feel safe but afraid, all at the same time.
That's when you wake, but you were never asleep.
And you're lying in a bed, with the Man at your feet.
He welcomes you to His kingdom, and into His heart,
and He finishes his drawing, another of piece of God's art."
*****************************************************
This poem is about one's struggle to find God. About having to search, and feeling hopeless. Like we aren't really traveling through Hell, but we are searching with no idea which way we are going, blanketed in a coat of black. Like an infinitely deep hole with a small stream at the bottom, and you've just got to hope to find that stream. Then when you think all hope is lost, you realize that He has been sitting there, waiting for you, pulling you out of the darkness Himself, knowing you would look for Him. He accepts us into His kingdom. It's as if we are a piece of art, and he is adding on to us everyday..
Mighty proud was I
with me lumber in one hand
my brick me carried in the other
I placed the brick in the barn yard
tall side for gained height
balanced the lumber board on top
I am silent and of Scottish temperament
You see folks
my feathered pet cock
was cock a doodle do-ing all day long
yapping and yelling
ranting and raving
the other farm animals had all had enough
action demanded
I place the ol koileach
at the end of one side of the board
all while smiling at the brainless duine beag
immediately I jumped on the other end
sending that whiny ol cock mid air
into the sea
he drowned
Ah what a wonderful day ladies
I shall meander onwards
among the heather and moor
my brick magically transformed
to fine woody scotch
oh what tales I shall tell
if tomorrow ever comes
When Poetry Soup becomes infested with partisan rubbish,
It will be difficult for liberal, creative poets, like me to flourish
Who seek a safe place away from the maddening ignorance
Of those people who continually despise political difference
For those who are angry and want to say the nastiest things
Do you have any idea what hurt your insatiable blather brings?
For some who don’t consider me a red-blooded American patriot,
I fought for the U.S. of A. in uniform when you were still just a tot!
I would rather die on the altar of honor than continually be castigated
By followers of a “wannabe” dictator who every day prevaricated
And sought to drag our country down into the muck and mire
Continues, to this day, stoking his sycophants’ hatred with fire.
Selecting a political putdown of President Joseph Biden for Poem of the Day
Was surely inappropriate if Poetry Soup administrators wish to say
The site maintains neutrality when it comes to political discourse
It encouraged poets, in their remarks, to choose up sides, of course
Anger and vitriol hurled toward us who are of more left-leaning mind
Will likely now become commonplace for those who are not so inclined.
Frankly, I despise clicking on a poem I think will be worth reading
Only to find, instead, an anti-American tirade of invective leading
To put-downs against our president, the vice-president, and first lady
Half-truths and conspiracy theories that, for the most part, are shady
If you are unhappy with the free and fair election that turned out your man
Then, every chance you get, go vote and change the system, if you can!
Our country is not, I think we’d all agree, a perfect democracy
We have lots of problems and crises – that's plain to see, but,
We now have a leader who cares about doing what is right
A man, who in short-order, is ready, committed, and willing to fight.
I have travelled the world over, north and south, east and west
Freedom to flourish in America is head and shoulders above the rest!
Written: April 4, 2021 (edited)
Awarded Poem of the Day on Poetry Soup
April 5, 2021
#38 on Best New Poems on Poetry Soup
April 6, 2021
A Little Piece of Paradise
An Eden-like orangery, her secret place for refreshing reverie,
a haven, from an abusive marriage, where her body and mind are free.
Away from a domineering, intrusive household,
her own favorite hideaway – a refuge from her unhappy world.
Here she is serene enjoying peace and blessed tranquility,
nestled in the nurturing bosom of this fertile orangery.
Contentedly she inhales the sweet fragrance of orange trees in bloom,
that permeates to every corner of this sunlit, warm welcoming room.
An enticing delight, time spent alone here is her singular vice,
as she lingers in the safety of this little piece of paradise.
Re-reading familiar poetic verses from a well-worn book,
she experiences sheer bliss sitting in this hospitable nook.
What joy communing with riveting Romantic poets,
like beloved Brontë, Browning, Rossetti, and Eliot.
Reveling in her sacred solitude, she relishes their consoling company,
amid thriving exotic orchids and other delicate tropical greenery.
Nothing compares to the immeasurable pleasure she derives,
from this brief respite with which her spirit renews and revives.
Before returning to a hard-hearted husband who is as cold as ice,
she clings a while longer to this precious piece of paradise.
07-18-2014
Contest: A Poem in Paradise
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Placement: 2nd
My mother starts moaning, with another one due.
She won't live to see, as she struggles to wheeze.
I never knew famine would produce skies so blue.
But no need for toilets, I forget how to squeeze.
Searing sun inflates skulls into baroque balloons.
One whining dog, dying , from a surfeit of fleas.
I squint as my sister beats a roach with a spoon.
She's holding out hope, with a morsel to tease.
My eyes can still water from the feces and trash,
tossed up by vultures to release fresh disease.
I dig up what moist dirt I can pound into mash.
An old man collapses, not a single one grieves.
What passes for corpses- baking black as they pop.
Now the flies feel the heat and retreat to the trees.
My brother keeps wailing and I wish he would stop.
My breathing grows shallow in the oven fed breeze.
If it helps each of you,
I am down on my knees.
I beg you.
Hand me one piece of bread.
Would you, please?
John Weaver 2000 (Emily has cerebral palsy)
Her room is not the sort of room you’d quite expect to find
For a little girl whose love of life is clear
No toys or games or bats or balls, or fun things of that kind
No bicycle or skateboard will appear
But the little piece of crumpled silver paper
It's very cheerful and bright with pictures everywhere
A pump to feed her through the night and a big adapted chair
Though pretty dolls sit on the shelf and teddies on her bed
She cannot play with them herself so she holds them tight instead
And the little piece of crumpled silver paper
It was Christmas day some years ago with excitement in the air
When we opened her presents and then found
That she couldn’t play with them and it didn’t seem quite fair
That she would always be so cruelly bound
To a life without the toys that all children adore
And then we heard a new sound that meant so much more
A crackle from the little piece of crumpled silver paper
The expensive gifts didn’t matter to this special little girl
Her joy came from quite another caper
As the parcels and the packaging slowly started to unfurl
All she wanted was the silver wrapping paper
You see, she could grasp it tight to make a funny noise instead
And so it fast became a dear friend
And she holds it close beside her even when she goes to bed
And the lesson to be learned is, in the end…
Happiness is not always found in gifts so big and costly
And often simple things can bring the joy you need
Contentment is a state of mind and the choice is yours mostly
To be content with what you’ve got and with every little deed
Or, to always be in want and never satisfied
And so for me the real belief will never taper
That the truth of life is clear and very closely tied
To the little piece of crumpled silver paper.
Out of a hat I just pulled you from the grapevine
hanging flower of flowers petals beg to kiss
In one taste bursting flavors of fruit
drunken wine of everlasting beauty
Just licking lips blushing desire
one bite addicted you're the apple of Eden
Finding paradise that was lost fate plays a vital hand
alone outside of this world it controls destines gate
Within regal dreams an angel touches the heart
where a soul flies uniting together shines one bright light
500 grms Stardust
2 Tablespoons of Rose dew
2 Tablespoons of Lavender
Zest of suggestion
25 Kisses
50 Smiles
10 Pieces of candle light
25 Heartbeats
2 Holding hands
12 Passion flowers
Sprinklea few more kisses
Slowly blend with half litre
of joyful tears
Stir with Cupids arrow until
of a beautiful consistancy
Pinch of baking powder
just to get he rise
Cook in the perfect ambience
Tis non fattening, but eat in
moderation, beware of the
consequences
Silent midnight, crescent moon overhead
Molten silver shimmered on dewy grass
Tender jasmine and vibrant marigold
Danced with the gentle breeze
As softly it caressed my sleepy cheeks
Resting on his warm loving shoulder
10/09/2011
By Tahera Mannan
For Constance’s “ Six Lines Of Poetry, Please” contest
i sit here thinking about the days.
remembering the time we first met.
i was crying in the rain,
feeling the water and the pain.
until you came, and wiped my tears away.
you were like an angel in disguise,
you never ever fail to make me smile,
you were a stranger in my world,
but you made me realize my worth
when you touch my hand
i know that you understand.
I feel so safe whenever i'm with you,
the way you hug me tight when i feel blue.
you are just like a dream come true.
i wouldn't need anyone else but you.
and from now on i offer you my heart..
so i thank you for coming into my life,
for bringing the sunshine and making me feel alive.
you made my life complete,
baby, you're all i need
you are my missing piece.
PS:wrote this 2 years ago. i had this poem hidden and reserved for Mr. Right. :-)
I look behind to see my dream has shattered
into a million pieces on the floor
I knew that this was going to happen
but didn't know it would hurt much more
It was the only way this dream should end
it wasn't one that had a hope
it's better off in a million pieces
I'm just not sure how to cope
I know that I must now recover
and learn to build my dreams again
I just need to build them better
and make them those I can attain
I know the hurting will continue
for a time at least
but from my dream that lies here shattered
I'll take from it one piece
It's something that I'll carry forward
into my new dream I must take
for it's the thought of possibilities
this piece of dream did wake
But it's the image my dream created
is that which hurts the more
I think it's this that lies in tatters
strewn across the floor.
[Verse-1]
I watched you walk by yesterday, and yes again you turned and looked away
You never give me the time of day, and you're always looking sad and grey
A small piece of lace from your pink dress, is all that's left of you and me
Wish I could take back yesterday, when I went astray and set you free
I wish I could find the words to say, instead of making you look away
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace
[Verse-2]
I know that I still need your love, because my heart is always feeling blue
And I guess I'll never be the same, for playing around and being untrue
You gotta know this isn't what I wanted, cause now I'm always on my knees
But I can see how you like your freedom, of being with him and not with me
But baby a twist of fate's what tore us apart, and placed this look upon my face
Oh! it's still funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace
[Chorus]
A piece of lace from your pink dress, keeps putting me down won't let me rest
And these cloudy skies are back today, holding my heart and soul at bay
I pray you come and take this lace, and wipe these tears from my face
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace
[Verse-3]
All those things that you used to do, is what made me fall in love with you
You gave me your all once upon a time, but like a fool I up and flew
And the things I went and said that day, made you fade and drift away
I never shoulda treated you that way, cause baby I need you here today
The sun keeps hiding behind the clouds, and all I do is sit and cry
And this piece of lace holds my heart at bay, I don't know...maybe it's a sign
[Chorus]
A piece of lace from your pink dress, keeps putting me down won't let me rest
And these cloudy skies are back today, holding my heart and soul at bay
I pray you come and take this lace, and wipe these tears from my face
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace
"all of us are on a journey and the answers are unspoken". - quote by Constance La France.
a poet's life
is a blessed journey
of enlightenment,
of sharing pieces of
the soul and creative art.
words and verses sparkle
leaving indelible imprints
on the minds and hearts
of listeners and readers.
it beggars description.
the sharing
of internal struggles,
of joy and pain,
of beauty and wonder
on stage, on a blank page;
a gift more expensive
than the price of rubies
the reward
of letting people in,
a blessing...
with a key that unlocks
the door of humanity.
each step in
leads a poet closer
to God.
Writing Challenge - A Quotes - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date written: 05/18/2023
It's like getting your leg amputated
For a while the phantom limb throbs and aches
Until you recognize and accept the fact
That it's just a ghost playing evil pranks
A phenomenon occurs in the morning
That will forever remain a mystery
Those few seconds between waking and sleeping
When you don't yet realize who or where you are
You get a short reprieve until
"Oh yeah, I don't have a leg anymore"
For HGarvey Daniel Esquire's contest