Best Piece Of Writing Poems
along came a flood of ebullient emotions,
when an unexpected letter arrived in the mail,
as if from far away in the priceless precious past,
a resonant rhapsody ~ crooned my mellifluous Koel.
The poignant message made my heart throb and tremble,
not many ornamental words adorned the paper,
I could feel the care concealed and hidden pain,
the perpetual soul-searching - layer after layer.
life was a murmuring meandering tide ...
time transpired for both of us,
with jade jubilation and lilac laughter,
experienced bitter days of sadness and sorrows,
as well as bleak, gloomy, loneliness hollow.
A letter brought a flood of ebullient emotions,
a topaz torrent of waterfall gushed
downward embracing mountaintops,
ringing a bell of coral hopes and lavender longings,
telling truth ~ nothing treasured had been lost!
My Darling, you stayed and weathered
with me all the tempestuous nights,
My Love, you clasped my hands
in yours when winds were wild!
March 19, 2022
Edited From My Poem "Along Comes A Flood"
For My Love Lost And Found Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB BRUL
Notes: Alliteration is the repetition of the same sound at the start of a series of words in succession whose purpose is to provide an audible pulse that gives a piece of writing a lulling, lyrical, and/or emotive effect.
All the kids at school?
They say writing poetry must be easy; after all, so many words rhyme with ‘love you’.
If they, with fists covered in your blood, only knew.
An art of letting yourself flow into the page,
Of giving in to the forces that define human nature.
That, at its finest, is writing.
Who really cares about your writing?
Would they notice if you never showed up at school?
No. It’s only a human’s nature
To forget anything unimportant, like you.
Maybe you should just turn the page
And descend into your story you never knew.
Nonsense. Don’t tell me you never knew
Of the many anonymous writing
Their broken souls onto the final page
Of the old history textbook they stole from school
Little postscripts of life left for you
A product of nature.
Nature
Mocks the men who knew
About you
Sitting alone in the attic, writing
About the woes of school
Tear and bloodstains on every page.
The book’s final page
Grown into nature
Far away from the school
Where the first pages flew, they knew
All their writing
Inspired you.
It’s you,
This blown-away page,
A scorned piece of writing
Tossed around like trash by nature.
If she knew
What happens at school.
Writing is what kept you in school
Wither away, you, against your own nature
Maybe you should just turn the page and descend into your story you never knew.
Always treasure what you write
Have your pencil and pad with you at all times
you might think of a subject
or a verse
write it down so you won't forget
Get all your ideas down
then try to rearrange them to make them flow and give them ultimate impact
to reflect the tone or slant of the piece of writing
Move words around in your sentences and see which sounds better
Capture a moment or an emotion always put your thoughts into words in whatever way you think most adequately displays them
Be alerted by nature and images you see around you
focus on the way it moves
Describe your subject
Find all sorts of descriptive words
Follow your insight; transport yourself to a location you want to write
Put yourself in its place and use all your senses
What do you
See,
Hear,
Smell,
Feel,
Taste,
Title is so very important in capturing the reader’s attention
It predicts content
It catches the reader’s interest
Truly valued verses of inspiration
Your heart is your guide
Encourage yourself
When you read others work, please be kind we all love to hear inspiring encouragement that motivates to keep writing
If critiquing is done in a nice way we don't mind hearing it, that is how we learn and grow.
5/17/2015
Contest: Advice for New Writers: Words of Wisdom in Verse
Sponsored by: Tyshawn Knight
Sip Coffee Nice And Slow
Going viral in social media space is a nice piece of writing...
Calling for readers to take life easy, sipping coffee nice and slow...
It makes such great reading , it is a great piece of writing......
Metaphorically we are to sit back to watch life as a show...
This writing is likely from a writer who has gone thro life...
Doing exactly what most of us has individually labored and done...
Doing our utmost best to secure the comforts in life in the times gone...
Only to suddenly realise Life has slipped past by...
We missed the little pleasures and joys in daily lives...
For we were caught up in the rush to better our stations in life...
Only now, after the many years of wear and tear...
We sit back and reminisce with peers so dear....
What a life journey it has been, we have to appreciate all that happened...
It's time to sip coffee nice and slow cos the best is yet to unfold....
We The One Who Die
There you have it, something marvelous that is nigh impossible to achieve…
A small country hamlet that has completely banned smoking, you better believe…
Somewhere in an offbeat location in Indonesia, people there achieve an impossible feat …
There, in a small country hamlet, or kampong by local slang, everybody has smoking beat…
The people that live in this unique hamlet or kampong exhibit remarkable self restraints…
How else can you explain this impossible feat of successfully achieving a No Smoking ban…
Of course there are visible signs from the local authorities declaring this smoking ban…
There, at the very entrance to this unique settlement of country folks living simple lives,…
A simple sign reads “Thank You For Not Smoking, Say No To Cigarettes” for every visitor…
Another says “You The One Who Smoke, We The One Who Die”, what a grim reminder..
Tobacco related economic s are stymied here in this hamlet of simple country living…
Unlike in the rest of Indonesia where as high as 30% of adults are hooked on smoking..
For a country with 200,000 smoking related deaths a year, this hamlet is setting the lead….
Nearby kampungs, villages and communities are working hard in trying to emulate…
The seductive lure of the tobacco related economy and monies are insignificant factors…
When the individual, and the community, are resolute and determined to prosper…
For the monetary savings from not smoking daily are very significant to better spending…
As evidenced from the comments gathered from those who have stopped smoking…
This little piece of writing is my salutations for the people who are residents in that area..
Where fresh country air is free of tobacco particulates and life couldn’t be any better…
I could imagine in my mind the simple lifestyle there on offer, a simple country hamlet…
Off the beaten route, away from the din and bustle of modern high paced hassles….
Bravo to the residents of this rustic Indonesian village called Kampung Bone Bone ….
Bravo for their collective success of promoting and prospering health to each home…
http://www.star2.com/health/wellness/2016/03/18/this-tiny-kampung-did-what-authorities-couldnt-ban-smoking-completely/
There once was a man named SEAL
Whose posts made Orchid just squeal
He’d tease and cajole
For he had no soul
But still, he had some appeal
He gave her many a name
Pushed buttons- feeling no shame
She’d give him a slap
That quaint English chap
Their friends just laughed at their game!!!
His posts all brightened her day
He knew just what he should say
He’d make her smile bright
Right after each "fight"
Then chase her worries away
R Seal, here’s looking at you
But first, there's something to do
Come leave me a post
Or you will be toast
I’ll feed you my Orchid brew!
For Judy Konos' Contest
Write a Poem
Reposted on February 1, 2015
Richard D Seal was once active on the Soup. He gave me the name Desert Orchid, one that I cherish even though it is the name of a RACE HORSE! See what I mean? He'd tease me incessantly...and drive me quite crazy, but I do miss him terribly. You can check his poetry out. He writes beautifully well. Of course...in my opinion, his best piece of writing is about me! Hurricane Eileen- The Storm. You can read it here:
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/hurricane_eileen___the_storm_474125
Drop him a line and say you've missed him so he will come back and post his awesome poetry. He's the naughty one of the Richard Pair! ;) Thanks All!
Another Old Piece of Writing. I was 18 when I wrote this one
Too many thoughts, I see
Frustration inspired writer’s block,
Eyes red and pulse racing
A word is heard, my mind locks,
Pencil tapping and imagination free
I am evil, I feed on hate,
My original nature is calling me
To fight it now is much too late,
My name is fear, eyes are dark
Anger flows through me like a flood,
My hand begins to write it away
As I glide through seas of bad blood,
I push out innocence and embrace loathing
My nightmares copy my breathing,
Verse after verse is brilliantly written
My creativity thrives, my soul is bleeding,
For a moment my nature is free
Briefly my darkness causes fear,
the trembling hand finishes the verse
Reminding me of goals I am near,
As anger becomes restrained again
The finished piece deserves fame,
For to be the best, I release the real me
Thus, anger and creativity are exactly the same
Note: The author has a tentative melody as well as the arrangement of the song. However, a musician or a professional recording musician may happen to come across this piece of writing, i shall be glad to offer this a collaborative piece whenever the artistic contribution is suited to the author's preference. Please send demo.
Intro: random sound of children running; playing; singing
Chorus:
We are the remnants of the ages
And the off springs of the dawn;
Facing realities of the new day
Within the realm of a dream.
I.
I hear the voices of the past
As they echoed down my spine.
Beckoning me to move onward
Like an amber of a dying flame.
II.
I saw a silhouette at a distant
But I can't figure what it was
My clue was blurred with confusion
But there's a voice I can barely grasp.
Repeat Chorus:
III.
There are faces of strangers
As I have not known a long-time friend
They have come as generation
In which I feel I do belong.
IV.
We utter in many voices
But we're blended for a song
A song of joy, love, and freedom
From which our music got its tune.
Repeat Chorus:
Ad Lib:
Repeat 3rd and 4th stanzas
Repeat chorus twice then fade.
Author: Jecon B. Nadela
Date and time of writing:
15 November 2013 ; 1:10pm - 2:22pm
Typhoon Yolanda has just devastated our neighbor island in the Philippines leaving thousands homeless and starving. The death toll was estimated to over ten thousand. There was chaos and disorganization. I, too, was confused of what to write as I already have written poems about nature's wrath, sufferings, or compassion . It must be that I have a mental block or maybe the urge to write was blown away too as we're preoccupied with the news and the humanitarian endeavor we are trying to be a part of to aid the victims in the devastated islands.
Today my 9-year old son and his uncle instructor are sitting by the keyboard again for practice. I can sense the excitement as they reviewed the piano chords. With a smile he asked, can you also write songs Papa? I said, I have tried some and maybe I can try again for you and for your sisters and cousins to sing with you in the chorus. And the idea of children singing in chorus brought to my mind the lines of this song.
The place where I used to stay,
I used to learn and eat and play,
My so many friends and toys
The shared sorrows and joys
The childish quarrels we had
Hitting each other like mad
The teachers' great helps
Our unnecessary yelps
The care and love and courage
Preparing us for the future age
The fun we got
The fights we fought
All these are the memories I weave
My school, I will one day leave...
(A very old piece of writing retrieved from my school diary..)
I was left unemployed and penniless
As a result of vicious rumors
Circulating about the work place
Based on mere lies over drug abuse
They claim it was attendance
I know better, so do you
Now, a once promising and bright career
Has become an unforeseen dark spiral
The obstacle has been removed
Enjoy the promotion that should
Have been mine
How can you show no remorse?
November 12,
Three years of matrimonial bliss
Suddenly came crashing down around me
When approached by an enraged spouse
Casting accusations of infidelity
Try as I will,
The name was withheld as to where this knowledge
Was acquired, but I shall always know
The originator being you
My whole world shattered
As if numerous slithers of broken glass
Came toppling down upon me
Slicing and piercing every inch of
Of my heart and soul
And with the withering of every
Blissful memory, each cloud now
Has been cloaked in a morbid shade of black,
A warm bottle of whiskey had become my confidant
And temporary solace on lonely nights
While I fantasize over exacting
Some form of retribution down upon you
Well, enjoy my ex-wife since you thirsted after her
For so long, I wonder, how someone could
Have no conscience whatsoever?
November 23,
You had to be number one
In father’s eyes at all times
So, you had to tell him that his
Oldest daughter has a girlfriend
Not that there is anything
Wrong with that, just dad’s old school ways
Why did you have to betray my trust?
Will you stop at nothing to obtain what you want?
November 27,
Three different people
Tragically wounded by someone whom
Shows no mercy, as well as no regrets, true I am not
A vindictive person at heart, but is there no penance
For this shallow unfeeling individual?
(This piece of writing is an intro leading into the poem
Kneel to your conscience)
It's not a prerequisite, of course, but if a piece of writing is any good, chances are it's probably offensive to someone. (Paraphrasing John Irving-A Widow for One Year) So, writer beware...
Words are a writer's stock in trade,
To ply it well requires a versatile,
Not volatile, vocabulary.
With words a writer's claim to fame is made,
But words can have broad repercussions.
So when he writes
He should select them well,
Not just to sell,
But so they don't arouse the scrutiny
Of those guys who comprise Homeland Security
And become the subject of discussions
Of the FBI, the CIA,
The DAR, the DMV,
The IRS, the IRA,
USPS, the EPA,
The PTA, SPCA,
AARP or AAA,
Twitter, NAACP,
The NFL, the MLB,
The LGBTQ community,
The NRA, the PGA,
NASA or the BBB,
Ellen, Oprah, Dr. Phil,
An ad hoc Sunday sermon bill,
Or his city, county, state constabulary.
The art of creating a visual response to a piece of writing is known as a reverse ekphrasis ie the inverse of the centuries old poetic form of ekphrasis.The most well known example being Charles Demuth 'Figure 5' based upon a W C Williams poem.
EMAGI is a recent variation of a reverse ekphrasis derived by the advent of the widespread use of hand held digital communication devices -where words in digital symbols /letters can be represented as a shape
and uses a poet's poem to inspire the digitised 'drawing'
(this is another throw-back - a piece of writing, from high school, used in my Yale applications)
I pound the pillow, curse the clock and mock injunctions to rest.
The sun finally rises and its rays slantwise fall through the curtains as I dry my hair.
A meal, like a forced dose, we soak ourselves in wasted, nervous time.
Finally! We arrive at the competition...
Tension is here and tireless pressure.
The players waiting stiff as straw, tongues playing over dry lips.
Teachers and coaches unapologetic in their pallor.
Music drifts behind us and occasionally gasps as imperfections play like daring circus tricks.
The sparkling prodigy returns disappointed, grimace of a smile, stricken, he stares away as we search for words, oh! clumsy, unrepairable prince!
Suddenly, its time and I wonder why we are hurrying, feeling weak, momentarily frightened to go there.
On this stage in this great, hushed hall, enormity suddenly dawns with mass enough to crush me.
At last, I sit before this odd Steinway music machine - my dearest mechanical friend.
A tremble resisted - the reward of mortal afternoons - endless practices fruit.
Eyes closed I prepare my best self - pushing all fear, all doubt, to the margins - and begin.
I hope, to recreate, one note at a time, Chopin's ancient impact - with hands flying, like tethered birds, I hammer out his timeless melody explosions, his streams of crazily exact math exam fiery semiquaver motions.. then, almost suddenly, I'm done.
I stand, joyously, nearly crying.. The world hasn't ended.
.
.
A song for this:
12 Etudes, Op. 10: No. 4 in C-Sharp Minor by Vladimir Ashkenazy
Part of Your World by Emile Pandolfi
We gather together by Emile Pandolfi
.
.
I thought I was going to be a concert pianist once - before covid.
Did you know there are piano recital competitions?
I wasn't a prodigy, I practiced endlessly, only to lose, eventually to one of the prodigies.
I competed in 7 'big ones,' two were international, and I came in second every time.
My joke was, "I'm the second-best pianist in any room.
I only switched my goals (to medicine - sort of the family business) when that fell through (Thanks, one more time, covid).
If I were not to see the light tomorrow
I’m dying to let the inside reach you
But either with breath or unbound
What you feel will spark immortal
If I were not to hold your face tomorrow
It is not such a dreadful loss
I dreamt of you long before
And you will remain alive in my world forever
If I were not to taste the sweetness of those lips tomorrow
I am closing my eyes tonight
Holding to that one single bliss I first felt
I’d be bringing in this eternal journey of mine
If I were not to speak to you tomorrow
I’d like to let you know
Your voice is unforgettably soothing
And will always resound in my endless sleep
If I were not to be with you tomorrow
The reason why the ink blots against this piece of writing
My eyes swell with tears with a thought of you
Don’t fret for I never felt this way ‘til we met.
When I think of her
I think of love so tender.
When I need the tender,
She's a big spender
She never stops to pamper,
All round the calendar.
With a traitor
On my breeches,
She turns into tailor
And makes me some stitches.
When I think of beauty,
That's her duty
When I think of splendour,
That's her true colour
I caught a strange behaviour
She just endured
And like a jewel vendor
She kept me secured
So just for her I want to sign an undertaking
With this piece of writing
Never to fall her hands
Or make her put them on her head
But to put gifts in her hands
And crowns on her head
Like a gold mine
Surely she is mine.
I fed from her bosom
And began to blossom
It made me this handsome
My queen she's awesome
I ate all the fishes
And refused to do the dish
Yet she met my wishes
And more of me she'll cherish
She is like no other
I can only adore her
When I think of her
I can only think of love so tender