Best Played Out Poems
And when will the tides turn against confident indifference?!
When will humanity cease
To throw cats against curiosity’s silver coated dagger
Another played out song
Another dramatic lyric
Shifting embellished overtones
With deteriorating tact
They spit posthumous awakenings
As divinity laced smiles, wither under a convoluted moon
Shedding retina waterfalls
Misunderstood
Pretentious anger becomes Aphrodite mediocrity
Wisdom, they never “put out”
Crippled tears
Become self-important struts within olive tinted reckonings
Lambasted butterflies
Stirring hornets’ nest
Uninvited
They dream for better days
While double-knotting gang colored bandanas
On eagle’s achromatic foreheads
Another Woody Woodpecker band-aid pulled from condescending hypocrisies
…
And when will the tides turn against pilot light’s mal-intent?
When will the flinty sheep
Stop wondering how these charring, orange fires began
Forgetting the 115 octane gasoline can
They hold quietly in their hands
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
played out, life, psychological, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Cloudy was the morning on which I had awoke,
not a bird was heard chirping, nor a single word heard spoke.
My eyes were then opened to what no one often sees,
as if a veil had been lifted, with a cool summer breeze.
Nothing was moving not a single leaf in the trees,
or a single blade of grass, as far the eye can see.
The dogs so often barking, in this moment could not be heard.
Crystalline was the moment that brought me these few words.
Within this crystalline moment, my world was standing still
this peaceful quiet moment, for me was such a thrill.
As that moment faded I felt an inner peace come from within,
a moment then gone, when the chaotic world once again began to spin.
The dogs began barking and birds were heard chirping in the trees,
leaves again began to rustle, upon another cool summer breeze.
Children were then heard yelling, as they played out in their yards
with that all to familiar sound, of so many passing cars.
Is this what the world is like, for those who cannot hear?
Do the subtle sounds they think they hear, tend to strike them with a fear?
I will have to ask my brother who was born partially deaf,
then let him know in a way, he may have been born partially blessed
Dan Kearley: 7-31-13
Categories:
played out, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: August 09, 20230
Fifa Women's World Cup 2023 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Mark Toney
______________________________________________________________
In the realm of soccer, where dreams bear flight,
A stage was set, shining under the beaming light.
The Women World Cup, with glory at stake,
Sweden against the U.S., hearts ready to quake.
Regulation played out, With a nil-nil score,
Both teams gave their all. Their spirits never wore.
The tension in the air—as the clock ticked away.
The crowd held their breaths, in anticipation that day.
Extra time was granted to break the deadlock.
True, a win was staked—each side stood headlock.
The strain grows as there are no goals to be found.
As the clock started to tick away the time abound.
The shootout with penalties—to pick the winner.
In the greatest nerve-racking way feasible spinner
The U.S. stepped up, with confidence and might,
But fate had a different design, on this fateful night.
Three missed kicks—In the realm of soccer fights,
Sealed the U.S.'s fate, In a moment so tight.
Kudos to Musovic—and the Blue and Yellow,
For their resilience and skill, in a match so mellow.
In the realm of soccer, Where dreams bear flight,
This game will forever be a testament to their might.
The Women World Cup—a stage of pure thrill,
Where nations unite, with a passion that is real.
Though the U.S. may have faltered, In this battle so grand,
Their journey won't cease here—their legacy will still stand.
In the realm of soccer, It's not just around the score,
But the heart and grit, retain us coming back for more.
So let us celebrate the triumphs and the falls,
The beauty of the game captures us all.
In the realm of soccer, where dreams bear flight,
We witness moments of glory—battles fought with might.
Congratulations to Sweden—their win was sweet
All dreams in the field of soccer start at the feet.
A stage was built up, gleaming in the spotlight.
The Women's World Cup—the stakes are right.
Categories:
played out, america, analogy, appreciation, soccer,
Form:
Rhyme
The trill under the
morning star
rings out a gusto
and vivacious song.
Oh! Sweet merle your irrepressible melody
defies all that is logic, the chill piercing morning
still only an infant, barely the time
to receive the accolades of sunrise.
Yet here lays the deepest frost
a cold front that sleeps not
driven upon a tempest,
from the ice continent
across the Southern Ocean,
does not discourage
you, your performance
bequeath daily, a spirit
of freedom, played out
to an enkindle audience.
Your act of unique tenderness,
drifts along to all that would listen,
a gift-wrapped sonata, in this,
a night shift world.
Each morning
gently you
succour nature
from her temporal
sleep, akin to the lone
Bugler at his post
your reveille to
each brand-new day.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Categories:
played out, nature,
Form:
Free verse
The golden sun of yesterday
played out in fields of gold
inside the tarping memory of father, handling LIFE
the joyful whistles that he fluted pruned alongside vines
and mothers pumping heart of song lauding in
loud and STRONG
No treason yet no aging bridge no tented hope
just morning glories,
a baby breath away from here
and all the sunlight we'd afford
inside a little yard of sweet explore,
I see,
the lonely eyes of a young girl longing for a friend
a hand held jar for fireflies or butterflies in toe
Pebbles rolled beneath unpaved paths as
dear together raw as butterflies we scabbed our knees
with swivel, in the morning breeze
Like BUTTERFLIES preluding dawn with shiant colors bold,
the summer sun of yesterday played out in fields of gold;
Inside my hiding place a youthful carefree life
still lingers in my heart's enfold,
without the memory, of growing old.
Jan 19, 2019
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Contest: Free Verse Style Only
Categories:
played out, beautiful,
Form:
Free verse
A bizarre light show streaked across the sky.
The blinding lightning seemed to explode and electrify.
a
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o
n
g
w
i
t
h
t
h
e
t
h
u
n
d
e
r
Vivid flashes of color to the clouds and everything under.
Striking blasts of illumination floodlit the night.
In total awe we eagerly witnessed this amazing sight.
Breaking the silence, more crashes of thunder came booming down.
Deafening the unsuspecting residence of our Sydney town.
A mind boggling spectacle was being played out.
Unable to hear ourselves think, we couldn't even shout.
A memorable night, never happened before, maybe never again.
Now along with the thunder, comes torrents of rain.
Categories:
played out, color, light,
Form:
Rhyme
Death has come this year; still it comes, ever creeping.
It comes for others in my life and in my family.
To one who wielded great control, it came as she lay sleeping.
All power gone, she did succumb to that grim reaper’s call.
It comes for others now. I know with certainty
because more often now I see its shadow on the wall.
As we grow old, death’s not a storm, leaving us in tatters.
I HEAR it as a hauntingly sad foreboding melody.
Played out, it leaves the loved ones empty as the hourglass shatters.
We go on. I go on - knowing soon enough it comes for me.
June 26, 2018 for Laura Loo's 'Rhyme Time 4- 10 Lines' Poetry Contest
Now used for 'Favorite Poem Written In June 2018' Contest
of Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
Categories:
played out, death,
Form:
Rhyme
(In 1807, Beethoven wrote a piano/violin
piece with this title. Count Leo Tolstoy
followed in 1890, with a short novel of the
same name, in which he argued that
matrimony can never work.)
What is a marriage? A fusion, or a tether?
Two very different creatures, yoked together?
I was a piano, you a violin:
I, solid, calming, you, discordant, thin,
and laced with bitterness. I was your base,
and you provided brio, flourish, grace.
A lacewing trapped inside a window frame,
yet driven by one blind, unchanging aim,
you struggled up until, played out, defeated,
you fluttered down again, debased, depleted.
A war's a love affair, and love's a war.
We're so inept - or what's a heaven for?
A nest of wasps, my grievances boiled over -
but could there ever be a vita nuova?
We never learned. I hammered pointlessly,
while you abraded. Why could we not see?
And so I played it stately, sad, no frills,
while you kept up your repetitions, trills
and variations. Hovering and wary,
you shunned my structures. Ever more contrary,
you coiled and squirmed in spasms both continuous,
spontaneous, free-wheeling, lithe and sinuous.
It seemed to me the harmony had gone:
we sang on, yes, but each a separate song.
Two butterflies together, intertwined,
we tangled on the same, but different, line.
Categories:
played out, marriage, relationship,
Form:
Couplet
A burst of white light
gamma rays, overbearing
a flash of brilliance
burns through to my soul
everything is like hell
the world starts to melt
in the blink of an eye
just the cold blackness
of night
I don't care if I am not again
what I once was, for at this moment
I am greater now
than ever before
I took the path between
teetering, tight roping walking
right up to my right
divined in my unholy state
I thought I told you
I am your king
still you sit there, hesitating
I know you hate me
what does that mean?
I hate just about everything
still I'm chosen
I did not wish before
now bow down to me
refuse me no more
for I shall always be your demon
until you accept me as your King.
I don't even know you
though you say we used to be
best of friends, you and me
the day you ditched me
I remember now
exactly how it played out
back when we were just tiny things
even back then I still was King
you thought me stupid
just a ruse
I would laugh inside, you see?
not one of you single, mean people
ever even knew me
in a world, mostly seen to me
that is why only I can be your true King
and bring forth a new source
of light everlasting.
As two worlds collide slowly aligned
one wrapped in shadows
one bathed in white
evils swirling in the clouds above
I'll always be the king you love
to hate or despise as in your blood
I thought I told you, I am the one
I am the way, the way out shall be shown
breathe in my spirit as it carries you away
breathe in my faith it shall carry your empty space
and deposit you gently on a cloud just enough
higher than you've ever dreamed of
for I am king now, and your in my hell
your in my imagination, I'll just never tell
you'll feel as though dreaming, you'll feel now
if you try and see
you were always found the most
shared in the light cast upon me
the last bright star in heaven.
Denounce my name, if you may
One year later, still not afraid
A black sheep, a darkened spade
That's just life, I'm not right
I'm in the wrong, follow along
Like a piper, I'll pitch a song
Mesmerized, the weak wills sing
I thought he told you, he's still our king.
Categories:
played out, art, brother, childhood, confusion,
Form:
Free verse
SWIMMING UPSTREAM
It seems I always
swim upstream
against the current.
re-creating struggles
of conflicting contradictions
and unsweetened scripts
at odds with others
in deeds and words
a emotional dissonance
played out over a lifetime.
banged and buffered hard
against the onflow;
prevailing opposites rush
to assail my efforts
intent on wearing me down
scraping, scarring, challenging
calling me out with
harsh ridicule and doubt
why must I cause stirred sediments
to muddy, blind and bewilder me
blurring reason so that
what is seen as truth
often becomes mixed
with drama and ambivalence?
how righteous is the direction
of this timeless stream?
shall I swim with it or against it?
go one way or the other;
does it really matter?
I cannot give up
I cannot relent...
this is who I am
a person searching
for kindred spirits
to swim backward
with me
against the current.
to find some direction,
some marker that guides
this hurrier to a another plane
of purposeful existence.
SYNOPSIS
I think most people at some time are contrarian.
Some from the start; others in their teens.
Some all through their life.
I can't remember being otherwise.
In retrospect, am I really that different
or do I use it an excuse
to be noticed? Perhaps both.
CAK 10-13-12013
Categories:
played out, conflict, confusion, life, psychological,
Form:
Blank verse
"to be played out as a theatrical battle.creation dressed in white destruction dressed in black"
let there be light
let there be life
let there be love till the end of time
the grass,the trees,the birds,the bees...
creation
bring on the darkness
bring on black death
bring on mad fear,hate and unrest
the fire,the smoke,sad sinners they choke...
destruction
the living,the giving
the helping,the healing
growing and glowing
good feelings keep flowing...
creation
stealing and killing
destroying and dealing
the needy,the nasty,the sour and the seedy
toxic waste and the poisonous taste
mind pollution to rage revolutions...
destruction
trust and truth
the old and the new
out of the black and into the blue...
creation
lust and lies
tangled ties that bind
suicide streams and dark devil dreams
it ends with a scream
revenge on a rope...
destruction
2 voices one choice
breathe free or take that final breath
choose life or choose death
look,listen,and learn as the world slowly turns...
creation or destruction
Categories:
played out, faith
Form:
Rhyme
I'm sitting cross legged on the side of the road
while Dad holds my shoulders, in trying to console me,
but tears, uncontrolled, keep tumbling down.
Most stunning, right now, is the fear, I've not known
Never before, .....had I felt so alone.
Reality has settled, like darkness around me
A first-time encounter with death and it's toll
Though, how many times, I have played out the role?
It was always the same.....
Just a game to be played
The drama? Just kid's-stuff.....who knew what it meant?
Bang, Bang you're dead!...
Point a finger .... he's dead
A stab, rubber swords, ... at my eight year old heart ?
While slowly, with drama, we played out the parts
Our death scenes, .....pretending to take a last breath
Then, back on our knees, and up in a flash
ready again, to reverse all the rules......
Death wasn't real........and never this cruel
Tonight, driving home
a deer out of nowhere,
A thump, and a jar, a flash in the light
And in the dash of a moment, ....a crumpling crash
Make-believe shatters, in the path of our car
Dad reaching his hand, to check I'm alright
Then opens the door out into the night
Reluctantly I follow his somber silhouette
And met by a moment I'll never forget
The air bitter cold, has taken our breaths
I turn eyes away, but now it's too late
Glass lifeless eyes stare back in the lights
I'm strangled by silence, and the shattering sight
as still and cold, as real as if stones,
The deer's lifeless eyes, stare into the night
I feel such a change in the stars and the sky
I felt something die, in a child's heart tonight
_____________________________________________
9/1/15
Carrie Richards
For Trashed #2 Contest: Sponsor: Broken Wings
Categories:
played out, animal, car, child, childhood,
Form:
Narrative
AGE OF TEN
Way back then when I was ten
Things were so very different then
I wrote with ink in a fountain pen
Whenever we could we would build a den
And I loved to help my dad in the garden
Way back then when I was ten
I walked to school and was never late
Always ate everything on my dinner plate
Played hop scotch by the garden gate
And was not allowed to go to bed late
Way back then when I was ten
No television colours only black and white
Real Christmas trees and a glass fairy light
We all had a different size of trike
Then I got my first two wheeled bike
Way back then when I was ten
We had so much freedom to roam
But must be in for meals at home
Only a phone boxes with a dial phone
And no phone in many a home
Way back then when I was ten
Latest craze was roller skates
And hula hoop with your mates
Skipping ropes and Meccano gates
But lots of fun with wooden crates
Way back then when I was ten
Coins were in pounds shillings and pence
Mothers talked over the garden fence
Scooters that you could make go at such a pace
Noisy steam trains that always seem to race
Way back then when I was ten
With friends you played out doors
Toys for your imagination scatted on the floor
Skipping ropes, skates and many things more
Sledges of wood, a dolls house with opening doors
Way back then when I was ten
Fun was had with blackboard and chalk
Clay dolls that you could walk
And new plastic ones that wouldn’t talk
Then babies came by way of the Stork UNSUPPORTED CODE
Categories:
played out, childhood, children, nostalgia,
Form:
Blank verse
Thunder and lightning ruled the black night
As the frightened young mother struggled
Beads of sweat ran down her pretty face
The old midwife calmly sponged off sweat
She hummed a lullaby to soothe her pain
Praying that the husband would be back soon
Five miles to travel in treacherous weather
Seeking the one doctor for hundreds of miles
Twelve hours of labor now seemed like days.
Fell trees and shaved off roof tops, toppled by whipping winds
Rising rivers were swollen, and flooded make shift roads
Endless rain poured like there would be no end
Meanwhile her unborn child lay bridged as it battled for release
Suddenly the door burst open and the doctor rushed in
His clothes sticking to his skin; there was no time to change
With his palm he felt her forehead asking pertinent questions
He and the old midwife tried manually to turn the exhausted child
At each attempt, mother’s painful cry was heard in the distance
She gave one guttural scream and usherd her baby into the world
The child, born limp, barely breathing as the mid wife took her away
He starred into her eyes, and knew that she was beyond his help
He brought the new born to lie in her mother’s warm arms
The silence was noticeable; the raging storm had passed
The sound of light rain, now a comfort, gently tapped upon tin roof
In a soft, weak voice she called her husband and managed a smile
Then she blessed her child with words from a mother’s heart
“May you be a light, swift as lightning when days grow dark.”
“May you have wisdom and foresight beyond your days”
“May your heart nurture and remain open to love”
“Like rain, may you bring life to all “
“Born this stormy night, your name will be “Rain”.
~*~
By : Audrey Carey
Note: Imagination at work:) Written for Constance's "Rain, The Story" Contest.
My imagination took me to some little village in Africa. This scene is played out in
many villages where health care is non-existent. However, there's always, thanks
to God, a wise, caring "midwife" to help mothers during delivery.
Everyday, countless miracles are performed by God through "midwives"!
Categories:
played out, caregiving, dedication, health, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
TEMPEST
Twin limestone tors thrust up through valley floor
Like isles or icebergs in a calm flat sea
Deep green save where shear rock can hold no spore
To spawn in fecund niche a vine or tree
Midday and all is calm untroubled, still
In tactile heat, all movement paused, restricted
No hint of ought that might disturb our will
A landscape placid, as in paint depicted
But look to sky the seeds of change are sown
There, signs portend a transformation near
Those gentle clouds mere cumuli have grown
To cumulonimbus, thrust t'ward stratosphere
And therein is enormous might enclosed
Stored energy, that soon must be released
Unleashing primal power unopposed
The laws of Nature never to be breached
Now lightning flickers o'er far mountain peaks
Faint thunder echoes round steep valley walls
The breeze accelerates and chills to speak
A warning of the fast approaching squall
The charge in air: has swallows energised
To move from circling low ‘tween tree and house
Their flight plans now are recklessly revised
To helix soaring t'ward the threatening clouds
A steady light drum roll on roofs - sound train
Starts gently then crescendo ends the prelude
Announcing clear the now impending rain
Prodigious splashes transformed to a deluge
The waves of rain traverse our panorama
Gauze curtains drawn by cosmic stage hand's might
Relentless, recasting features as of dark drama
Familiar scenes are shrouded, hid from sight
Now random electric arcs flare bleak view scanned
Cacophony of thunder rules all sound
Awesome darkness and confusion on the land
All visual anchors cast in shade spellbound
But in this world each cycle must be ended
Perhaps reverse events that had us unmoored
The drama, soon is played out and expended
Peace, light and order gradually restored
Known reference points can once again be seen
The twin rock peaks come clear through rain-washed air
Clouds make fine-spun white wraps for hills now green
We're reassured by prospects known and fair
Is this chronicle an allegoric tale
Of human life not granted free of strife
Would we choose bland existence without travail
Or fain confront the magnificent storms of life
Categories:
played out, environment, inspirational, philosophy, places,
Form:
Narrative