Best Prefer Poems
I Prefer Those Daring To Just Write
I prefer my poetry very raw and real
giving life and emotion to be seen
A prize, a parade - the real deal
not words delivered merely to preen
Stand back and give true strokes
reactions,good or bad are alright
Do that,touching the right folks
deep pleasure for we that write!
I prefer my poetry easy and deep
a young sparrow about to fly
Sad that will make your heart weep
so damn tragic makes you ask why
Or Love in any of its many forms
dead,lost or in sweet display
Forget the cry for all the norms
be daring, do it your own damn way!
I prefer rejection over false yays
a poet must say,look into my soul
There could well be millions of ways
to arrive at the true and right goal
Give poetic words that sing a dance
swimming in our big hearts and ears
Matters not if its all about romance
or dark tales of our greatest fears!
I prefer those daring to just write
or ask the reader to think very deep
Shoot words strong and out of sight
sing out, laugh , dance or even weep
A poet often cries,eat into my Soul
see what happens when we write pain
Tear our hearts out and stomp the hole
no heart,no sacrifice we reap no gain!
Robert J. Lindley, 05-11-2015
In music and artwork and poetry too,
top artists by genre I think must be none.
There simply exist too many of them
for me to name as the best only one.
So when asked who my favorite artist is,
I sat and I thought and I thought.
Finally I have decided on one
to fit in the top artist spot!
The artist I choose as my favorite is
the most versatile one of them all.
She paints gorgeous sunsets. Busy all year,
she paints winter, spring, summer and fall.
She not only paints, but she creates music -
like the babble of streams and the song
of the lark and the robin and all other birds.
She composes and paints all year long.
All other artists (at least most of them)
often get inspiration from her.
A goddess is she, who inspires me too.
Mother Nature’s the artist that I most prefer.
Nov. 23, 2019
for Chantelle Anne Cooke's "Your Favorite Artist" Poetry Contest
what birds do I prefer
to slow me at night?
red winged blackbirds lament
and the mourning doves plight
what birds do I prefer
to greet me each day?
the chickadee's insistence
the cardinal's delight
Sometimes I wonder about nature’s mysteries…
how there is so much I can’t explain?
Like why the sand dunes can be heard to sing
or how flowers anticipate the rain.
Like how the sun rises to greet the day
and how at night it bids adieu.
Like how there is a rhythm to the waves
or how the sky epitomizes blue.
Like how a stream can talk to you.
Like how dew drops nestle in the grasses.
Like how clouds can change right before our eyes
or how leaves shiver as a cool breeze passes.
Like how life can flourish in the most unlikely places.
Like how the ocean can be so wide.
Like the boisterous sound of crows in flight
or the silence of a pelican’s glide.
Like the sheer force of thunder and lightning
as they announce a summer squall.
Like how a rainbow stretches across the sky.
Like the the wonder of a waterfall…
But then again when I stop to think about it
I don’t really want to know
what makes the flowers smile
what makes the cool winds blow
because as I look around me…
as out on nature my eyes gaze
I don’t want to know her secrets….
I prefer to be amazed.
The last time someone dropped into our pool,
it broke our concentration for crock school.
I didn’t join the food frenzy,
prefer Scots called Mackenzie.
So take this one mates, silk chutes bind my stool!
* For the “To Die for Limerick” contest. Hard to tell crock or gator from this magnification.
Head straight to the coffee pot after I pee
What happened this morning? Good god mercy me
Empty Folgers can
Was I pissed? Yes ma’am
(Four extra-large bags make a fine cup ‘o tea)
Before I become a poet who is extinct
Want to be one who will be distinct
Also distinguished and loud and clear
Thank God Poetry Soup if finally here.
I woke up without a poem in my head
Now what should I have to do instead
No one out there do I want to offend
Will open Poetry Soup and then pretend.
I wake up each morning and prayer say
God into my mind place a poem today
Sounding as if on a wonderful Wurlitzer
Wanting to win prize called a Pulitzer.
To you, this may sound kind of Germanic
And is no where close to being Hispanic
Careful is what I have just been told
When you leap or reach for the gold.
My clever poetry friends hope you savor
Write many more poems, I will endeavor
While you write poems, won't get in the way
Prefer you be awarded with Poem of the Day.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
I prefer crazed blue eyes
How they
Magnetize
The ache
I have
To make your insanity
My own
I prefer crazed blue eyes
Won’t
Apologize
How I take
Your flesh
And make your absurdity
My home
I prefer crazed blue eyes
Don’t you
Realize?
Nutcase
Lover
Wackity wack wackify
My soul
Let me look into your
Anarchic mind
Transfixed by those
Wild baby blues
Let’s share the final
Gasps of time
While we wear
Each other's shoes
Let me hold your body
In such strange ways
Even monkeys
Would be ashamed
Let’s meld our chaos
Lunatic babe
One body joined
Perverse, deranged
I prefer crazed blue eyes
Delirious blues
In the way they
Stare at me
All Sturm und Drang
Staring
Knowing
Exactly
Who I Am
Permit me to present a dark bird named Gypsy;
Pardon her silliness if she seems somewhat tipsy.
Pretending to be sinister, she’s one boorish brute.
Pecking in my kitchen, she is searching for fruit.
Pink apples! she scowls, these simply will not suit.
Pigeons prefer peaches, peeled, if you please.
Plainly speaking, my dog, Dr. Duke, quite agrees
Pacific pink apples, a tasty treat, just fine;
Persian peaches, however, make a most excellent wine.
written April 21, 2019
contest by Edward Ibeh, I chose the title A Glorious Alchemy
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/contests/pick_a_title_vol3_alliteration__11919
In seventy six we saw our hero win
The decathlon; it wasn’t a narrow win
But now Bruce Jenner
Sings alto, not tenor
As he transformed into someone’s heroine
Prefer The R Ending
Per
prefer
fine liqueur
would best defer
splendid connoisseur
for your bottle, monsieur
savor worthy, need succour
possess sparse palate, amateur
grand restaurateur entrepreneur
***monsieur; a title or form of address used of or to a French-speaking man, corresponding to Mr. or sir.
2019 November 07
*1st Place*
Rhyming Nonet
~~charles messina
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I'm sure we have one going spare
You see that pink sofa that you brought with you
Just won't quite fit up our stairs
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I see you like it on the floor
But the ground, whilst sound for bums big and round
Could make your skinny bottom just sore
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
My! That's a fetching trampoline
But whilst a bounce is good for your health
It'll turn our other guests quite green
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
You're sitting in a bowl of fruit
I'm not one to judge, or to try give advice
But squashed peaches aren't good for your suit
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
Please don't sit on the cake
I know it's delicious and the icing is firm
But it did take me hours to bake
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
That's a smashing helter-skelter
It's got to be said, though it hurts my head
It really is quite a belter, but…
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I'm wincing at your new choice of seat
That rat and mouse trap, could make your bum snap
And I've just got this place nice and neat
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
Where did you find all those balloons?
44 on each arm and your legs in a hammock
And assisted by 14 baboons?!
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
You've squeezed into a window pane
That's quite a talent, and I'm truly impressed
It's a sight I shan't see again, but
Would you not prefer a chair Mrs Atwood?
I know it sounds boring and dull
Compared to that bouncy castle you've brought
But you see, the room's already full
Ah! Thank you for choosing a chair Mrs Atwood
Please let's make amends
I do like people with random ideas
So, let's sit together as friends
On CHAIRS Mrs Atwood, on good solid CHAIRS
Yes, let's sit together as friends
Being a sailor makes me homesick all the time.
Being a policeman makes me not to indulge in crime.
Being a teacher makes me smart and intelligent.
Being a cowboy makes me learn how to shoot.
Being a boxer makes me get bellows everyday.
Being a murderer makes me feel guilty.
Being a dustman makes me filthy always.
Being an angel makes me settle in heaven.
Being a poet makes me learn how to rhyme.
I prefer being myself,
Even if burnt to ashes;
Even if moulded into clay;
I will prefer being myself.
I am subject of your objections
your majesty
let us cloak ourselves
in the moral fabric of religion
and make believe we're royalty
present an image to impress
a new age novelty
a dying breed of humanity
we knock at empathy's door
beg entrance to the light
gained only from the price of
a thousand lost souls
in their luminescent flickerings
of goldfish in a bowl
a pisces paradise
invading parasite
beguile thy emerald isle
fornlorn the jagged shores
of Erinyes and Norn
feigning faint, a bulimic trick
how we stumble and trip through these doors of perception
by divine intention
a moral invention
you can swallow your god pill whole
but I still prefer to chew
Attempts at free verse make me sigh
and shake my head. I seldom try!
Such lines are best by others penned,
those who create a moving blend
of vivid details flowing free.
They earn sincerest praise from me!
Blank verse and metered, rhyming lines
I love, though every form confines
me to strict rules. I welcome all
the challenges. Some see a wall
when rhyme and meter are required.
By both of these, I am inspired!
Date: November 27, 2019
Contest Title: Free Verse or Structured Placed 1st
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
December 12, 2019, entered in Brian Strand's Strand Special 2