Best Poetize Poems
Partial Paper - A Poet Heart-
When ink carries its final tune
Moonshine-like liquid sweeps the mind
Bottles of ink will fill the pen
Composing a symphony on every line
Drops of passion all over the mask you wear
Nothing compares to black stains and broken nails
This part of you
"A CAN'T BE REMOVED" tattoo
The toughest skin you'll ever live in
Fountain pens of split identities
Who Are You?
Sinking words like no other
Poisoned ink piercing every rhyme
Inferior poet, making the heart pure
Anger shattered walls "GIVE ME MORE!"
inclined with a desire to paint all day,
Breathing and beating in every way
Toxic lines, from which ink flows
Inhaling images from the world
Deep and cold sorrowed emotions
True love is always easy to poetize
Dear Poet: "Ink Never Lies."
Pretty pink acrostic ink when nearby
Sugar and salt, Epic taste of reality
Ballads sang under the full moon
Sunny Sonnets, on any rainy day
Odes of rivers from your past
A dark smile jotting down memory lane
Monologue tears brought under pressure
Loading cartridges of fresh Senryu and Haiku"
Dramatic red runs through your veins when all is done
Unfolding old and new propaganda's
POET: You are my favorite verse in every stanza
Only this, and nothing more
Writing is like giving birth to the moon
Why are you enchanted
gentle lady?
My mind
every day gets worse,
It's my rambling heart
is not here anymore ...
No longer poetize
as before ...
That one who
preceded you stole it
and now ?
Now only rime
memoirs...
Don't be enchanted
sweet lady...
The verses I write
they are not for you ...
They are for her ...!
Window covered by a sycamore tree
Constant friend of my snowy Maple days.
Memories spring as insects on a tree
Turn my gloomy days in glorious days
Hippocrates got his inspiration
for search in medicine he began.
Buddh sat under it for meditation
and enlightenment of mind to attain.
Desdemona sat sighing under it
in agony to hear willow song treat.
Flying to Egypt Mary stopped a bit.
Crann ban “Money tree” in Irish spirit.
To demystify health, to personalize,
To me sycamore is to poetize.
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December 2, 2014
Form : Sonnet {Iambic Pentameter)
Dr. Ram Mehta
Sixth Place Win
Contest: Structured Forms by Georgio V. Venetto
"To hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature. " William Shakespeare," Hamlet 1601."
Window covered by a sycamore tree
Constant friend of my snowy Maple days
Memories spring as insects on a tree
Turn my gloomy days in glorious days
Hippocrates got his inspiration
For research in medicine to begin
Buddh sat under it for meditation
The enlightenment of mind to attain.
Desdemona sat sighing under it
In agony to hear willow song treat
Flying to Egypt Mary stopped a bit
Crann ban “Money tree” in Irish spirit
To demystify health, to personalize
To me sycamore is to poetize.
** The notion of a "mirror held up to nature" has been taken over for any mimetic theory of art — the idea that art should represent reality and nature as closely as possible**
+++++++
Revised and Reposted May 4, 2014
Form : Shakespearean sonnet in Pentameter
Dr.Ram Mehta
Contest: Shakespeare by Frank H.
=========================
Dr. Ram Mehta
Date: 4/19/2011
Fourth Place win in :
Contest:The Tree sponsored by Constance La france-A rambling poet
=========================
* I wrote a sonnet Maple Memories in 2000 while living in Windsor-ONT
and was posted on 6/29/2005 on PS as Maple Memories.
The present poem is re-written for the contest.
** Maple Days- Maple is the national tree of Canada.
* Buddha is pronounced one syllable
( A Shakespearean Soonet - with 14 syllables- rhyming abab,cdcd,efef,gg)
My balcony was covered by a huge sycamore tree,
My constant companion during the snowy Maple days,
Memories come as insects around a flowering tree
Turning my gloomy days into that of glorious days.
First candid approach in medicine to initiate,
Hippocrates sat under sycamore tree to explain,
As Buddha sat under the Bodhi tree to meditate,
Nirvana or the enlightenment of mind to attain.
Father Cavanaugh aptly called it ‘The tree of vengeance’,
Othello’s Desdemona sat sighing by sycamore,
Flying to Egypt Virgin Mary rested under once,
Known to be as crann ban “money tree” in Iris folklore.
To demystify health care and known to personalize,
My sycamore exists to socialize and poetize.
=====================================
Fifth place winner in
Contest: Shakespearean or English Sonnet in honor of John freeman
My balcony covered by a huge sycamore tree,
My constant companion of snowy Maple days,
Memories come as insects around flowering tree
Turning my gloomy days into glorious days.
The first candid approach in medicine to initiate,
Hippocrates sat under sycamore tree to explain,
As Budhha sat under the Bodhi tree to meditate,
Nirvana or the enlightenment of mind to attain.
Father Cavanaugh called it ‘The vengeance tree’,
Othello’s Desdemona sat sighing by a sycamore,
Flying to Egypt Virgin Mary rested under the tree,
Known as crann ban “money tree” in Iris folklore.
To demystify health care & known to personalize,
To me sycamore exists to socialize and to poetize.
==============================
Ninth Place win in Chris's contest
My balcony covered by a huge sycamore tree,
My constant companion of snowy Maple days,
Memories come as insects around flowering tree
Turning my gloomy days into glorious days.
The first candid approach in medicine to initiate,
Hippocrates sat under sycamore tree to explain,
As Budhha sat under the Bodhi tree to meditate,
Nirvana or the enlightenment of mind to attain.
Father Cavanaugh called it ‘The vengeance tree’,
Othello’s Desdemona sat sighing by a sycamore,
Flying to Egypt Virgin Mary rested under the tree,
Known as crann ban “money tree” in Iris folklore.
To demystify health care & known to personalize,
To me sycamore exists to socialize and to poetize.
Peter (my bf) flew away early this morning,
like Shakespear’s eagle, “leaving no tracks.”
Now I lay here, as a leftover or Millais’ drowned ‘Ophelia.’
That’s an image ripped from adolescent, female visual culture.
Time‘s adversarial magic drags us ever future-wise,
eroding sweet moments we would cling to.
Shall we poetize?
I want a quiet afternoon,
on the bright side of the moon.
It’s an actual-factual place,
convenient, in close outer space,
like mythical Elysium, Shangri-La or Valhalla
where I’d still be intertwined with my fella,
like characters from literature or legend.
A place where “I’ll get to it tomorrow,”
is, alas, an everlasting pass,
because on the dusty, unreeling moon,
tomorrow never arrives,
our lovers never have to go,
and we can relax, scantily clothed,
simply enjoying the everlasting earthrise.
.
.
Songs for this:
To The Moon by Meghan Trainor
Moon River by Frank Ocean
Make haste arise,
assert the words.
Salute each term
that now gabfest.
In mid of night
they waltz, serenade;
Jovially jolting
a rem-sleep state.
Appease them please,
awake, awake.
You have mere seconds
so soon they fade.
Witty performers,
these festive words;
Parade to play part
of a poet's verse.
Rare frolic idioms
seldom last;
Assign them purpose,
applaud their crafts.
Ink well the quill,
poetize prose.
Recite with vigor
what words compose.
Inscribe each stanza
on scroll egg-shell white.
A task I've done
numerous times.
Ideal locutions
dispel thy rants.
In poetic sequence,
I'll debut thy stance.
Orange is my go-to color because I look smashing in it
Not anymore, but I used to when I was twelve
I had the most darling orange sweatshirt
Probably disintegrated now after being sliced, washing cars.
I am an artist; and neon-orange is in every single painting
I am glancing around at my walls now to verify.
Yes, even the teeny rabbit painting has orange in it.
Actually orange is the main color of that rabbit, cows, cats, etc.
You thought a lady bug could not be orange?
Think again. It is my dancy-prancy-happiest color
I do not hesitate to wear it, mold it, and poetize it.
Obviously...
Moonlight snowfall captivates
Winter wishes swirl before my eyes
Breathlessly beautiful, exhilarates
Night to remember to poetize
Verse writes itself with my soft sighs.
Winter quintain
Poetry Contest
Sponsored
by
Francine Roberts
17/12/2021
Pen crusade comes to a victorious conclusion.
Or has the poetic safari just started under way?
As I give John Hancock my approval,
Immovable decision is my signature.
My writing hand must release the poetize child into a mysterious world,
Knowing a critic is born on every street corner.
Years will permit;
The good,
The bad,
And O!
The Ugly.
The pretenders of poetry parties,
"Poetical taste I drink from Champagne Glass."
"O' by the way, tasteless! They must give up the pen."
One ear & out the other I shall remain,
For the realm they know,
Fistful beer bottle soul.
Some in gentleness of correctable hearts,
I can only pray for this kindness in every way.
Cereal box reading others comprehend.
Some in love,
Simply lie in words,
"Yes, a masterpiece!"
O' Lord,
Please.
Downfall this is indeed!
Truth is like salt on an opened wound,
Insanity within shorten delay,
Time takes away the pain.
Than,
Those who seem average,
The astonishment sometimes bring the poet to shame,
Only to invite overwhelming joy.
From the writer's womb to nursery's heart of mine,
I give the un-wondered,
Public arena,
Permission.
What ever becomes of my child,
Glory in the million of books,
Or crucify to the extreme.
Silliness is where I poetize the best
My brain tells me strange and weird tales
I blush and giggle out of control
But I sometimes become derailed
Checked my doc he told me forget it
It's a case of poetization overload
Told me the psyche ward will welcome me
With open arms so you can unload
They told me to lie on the bed
Now I know I'm definitely handsome
NO they said it's normal procedure
Now recite the national anthem
That being done next is to poetize again
It's the only way you'll survive
You were way off-key singing the anthem
In fact you sang like a little girl of five
Let's put this poetization thingy behind us
Damn hope this will help with the headaches
Take 12 in the a.m. and 12 in the p.m.
Your wifey may have to slap you awake
The world,
I possess it in my hands
wherever I map it...
the best world,
I construct...
Whenever a poetize it...
The world,
in another world...
whatever world I inhabit !
Glance at me and I shall interest you
Read me and I shall indulge you
Peruse me and I shall entertain you
Scrutinize me and I shall intrigue you
Ponder me and I shall wonder you
Observe me and I shall acquaint you
Regard me and I shall illume you
Sing me and I shall sway you
Play me and I shall pleasure you
Breathe in me and I shall immerse you
Delve into me and I shall devour you
Poetize me and I shall commemorate you.