Best Preferably Poems
Christmas on the pacific islands where it's summer everyday
is all about families, friends, joy, love and foods
Though we are many islands and ocean divided
We are forever united with one God
Some small islands may not have
the Christmas colorful lights but in all honesty
they have the best blinking sparkling
twinkling dazzling star lights
they're beautiful in their dramatic and
eye catching lights like no others
We celebrate the birthday of Jesus
in our unique and organic island ways
We always say Merry Christmas
It's never about the material gifts
It's all about the warm joy of Christmas
Singing in tunes or out of tunes
we are clapping our hands
side stepping moving along to the rhythm
We sing joyfully loud in His name
Born is the King our savior
Praising Him highly
Thanking Him humbly
Lifting up our hearts to Him fully
Everyone is glee on life
Everyone is glowing with joy
Everyone shake hands to forgive those
with guilts, dislikes or with differences
Everyone shares a hug or two to embrace
love from one to all
Every woman is wearing flowers in their hair
Every man is wearing leis around their necks
as it is an island style and proudly so
Everyone is wearing bright new cloths and
shoes but mostly sandals for the ladies or
flip flops preferably for the sandy areas
It's a day of joyful to spend with loved ones
Kids playing freely and cheerfully
Sharing fresh organic local foods and
coconut juices
Naturally alcohol free but drunk on Merry
Partying till the stars are twigging out
Collapsing with satisfying hearts
And this is how we celebrate Christmas
on the Pacific islands... Smile!
Written by Akkina R Downing
12-1-16
In majestic beauty I stand alone
My lifetime mate included
Together on land we build our home
Preferably secluded
My five foot wingspan is solid white
Hunting is done in the light
Fish, rabbits, rodents and birds are nice
Lemmings are a daily delight
With yellow eyes and beard of black
I rule my frozen domain
Neither fox nor wolf would dare attack
Even eagles are aware of my fame
The ghost like snowy male owl am I
With razor sharp talons to die for
Arctic tundra is where I prowl up high
Where snow peaks are just the ground floor.
Feb 6 2016 an original poem by Daniel Turner
the magnetic allure
of a crescent moon
appeals to the isolation
of my soul from worldly ties
I relish the joy of gratitude
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Gogyohka is a poetry form developed by Enta Kusakabe
in Japan and translates literally to "five-line poem."
It is an off-shoot of the tanka form. It has no syllable rules,
and does not usually rhyme. Preferably, each line would be
a separate, usually short, phrase.
A quiet place where I can meditate
Is clearly a must in my life, as of late,
Preferably in a canopy of tall trees
Free from insects, particularly bees!
Where I can shut out raucous voices
The constant drum of traffic noises,
And let my mind range far and wide
Or simply think of nothing … inside
My mind resting in contemplation
Communing peacefully in God’s creation.
Written July 15, 2022
submitted to "A Quiet Place" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
(This poem is political satire;
don't read if you think you may
be offended. No truth in any of it,
considered by many to be
tasteless -- Not meant to be taken
factually nor literally -- Sincerely, Joe)
New strain of Virus detected
just a minute ago! Predominately
in Democrat run cities and states:
Seems to be 3 trillion times more
infective. CDC is calling it the,
S.T.U.P.I.D. Variant. University Staffs
hard-hit! Early signs, loss of Sense-
of-Smell, Gullibility, and increased
fetish for Designer Masks. Best
detected by examination of Cancel
Cultures -- microscopes prohibited
per Fauci. The most vulnerable group
seems to be those who have already
had 4 doses and 2 boosters. To treat
Fauci recommends, 4 doses and 2 boosters
for everyone, preferably administered
as young as the womb to developing
fetuses by his personally trained
omnipotent physicians at Unplanning
Parenthood -- Biden and Pelosi
say, God Bless America!
Call me in the morning
Preferably 3am
When the world is quiet, your mind cloudy
Your soul is a double agent
He hijacks your body
He tells me all of the secrets you collected that day
Wispy memories float across space
Dreams are classified, he broke the code
For just a moment, he is my hero
He grips the phone tighter
You mustn't awake
He talks for hours until the sky turns gray
Classified information exist, he insists
I write it all down in the book of my mind
We will meet again, he informs
Preferably in the morning 3am
Iconoclastic lots of marshiest beauty
Clenched sublime altruistic nature bore –
Morals indefatigably humbled, reasoning in bondage –
Bondage of the highest periphery
Blessings encountered in watered chaos.
Blocked nuts with scanty feelers,
Inducing mere bouts of euphoric impasses
Rarely a gift of fatherly nature.
Hay filled tubs called but heads
Preferably a misfortune
To their worthless masses.
Maevius a reader’s delight be
In the fumbling fold
Of this rowdy rendezvous.
More ore less classy oddities
On deferred pedestals
As lovely Mannequins
To display for sale.
Now Hyperion his burning sword behold
None to hear Triton’s call to arms.
a fallen pine log:
red-cockaded woodpeckers
taps their lost fair well
****The Red-cockaded Woodpecker has less than 1% of its original population. They make their home in mature pine forests, preferably long leaf pine, which have been drastically reduced due to disease and harvesting. While other woodpeckers bore out cavities in dead trees where the wood is rotten and soft, the Red-cockaded Woodpecker is the only one which excavates cavities exclusively in living pine trees. They play a key role in their ecosystem. A number of other birds and small mammals use the cavities excavated by Red-cockaded Woodpeckers, such as chickadees, bluebirds, titmice, and several other woodpecker species, reptiles, and insects. Florida, my home, is one of the remaining southern states they are still found in. Steps are being taken to protect and recreate their nesting grounds***********
A is for ants, they love a picnic too!
B is for birds, you may have to shoo
C is for cake, maybe tangy lemon or spice
D is for drink, cool, preferably, lemon on ice
E is for Easter, the best time for a spring picnic
F is for flies, uninvited, they come and make you feel icky
G is for garden, an ideal place to sit and eat
H is for happy children, munching on treats
I is for icing, the frosty lemon topping
J is for jazz, this music can be mellow or get you hopping
K is for kite, huge, colorful and climbing high
L is for loud laughter, that travels sailing by
M is for memories, make them joyful together
N is for no, a word you shouldn’t say to Mother
O is for orange, gives a refreshing aroma when pared
P is for pies, very easy to make and share
Q is for quilts, handmade, in many long hours
R is for rings, like crispy sweet onions dipped in flour
S is for Sunday a good "picnicking" day
T is for tart, rasberry and coconut on display
U is for under, below a big tree, a cool spot for shade
V is for vitality, borrowed from sunshine at any age
W is for walking, a good thing to do after a meal
X is for xylophone, an instrument little brother plays with zeal
Y is for yellow jackets chasing the smell of sweetness in air
Z is for a Zebra picnic blanket of black/white stripes, colors always in pairs
~*~
I have always enjoyed picnics in spring with vibrant green grass and all things new. I have a daughter, sweet as can be. Picnics can be fun, so if you have little ones, they grow up so fast this may be one of those times to make good memories.
They came with a Bible in their hands;
To pilage and steal sacred lands.
It wasn't enough to claim our ancestor's graves;
They also had to make us their slaves.
They teach that the pilgrims and Indians were friends:
But, in all honesty, that's when the Holocaust begins.
Burning our villages to the ground;
Killing any and all survivors that could be found.
Small pox blankets and rotted horse meat
Juan de Oñate cutting off our feet.
Our scalps taken for a bounty man's price;
Preferably from warriors but a child's would suffice.
Drive us out on a trail of death;
Auction off whatever we left.
Manifest Destiny and forced assimilation;
For us there was no Emancipation Proclamation.
Kidnapping children for missionary schools;
Beatings and starvation for breaking their rules.
Saying it was for our own benefit;
We should be grateful for what little we get.
They saw us as savages, heathens, and beasts;
Of all the races we were considered the least.
Still today they only see us as a spaghetti western;
So to them, I have but one question:
Upon their death when they return to the sky;
And they must look their Creator in the eyes.
What on Earth will they say and do;
When they realize that he is a red man too?
Barn Yard Dog
I am a Border Collie, recognized for my agility and speed,
I’m also a hard worker, one of the most intelligent breeds,
I’ve worked hard all my life, with eyes fixed on the group,
Not only at round up time, but while resting on the stoop.
My job “back in the barnyard” is to keep things under control,
As the farmers move their herds, to the market to be sold.
I was hired as a “working dog” food and shelter is my pay,
The benefits are a family, with who at days end I play.
I wouldn’t trade this lifestyle for anything in the world,
But I do wish I had a companion, preferably a girl!
Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 3/10/16
Submitted for: Back To The Barnyard Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
One can write limericks on a dime
All you need is some rhythm and rhyme
A quick li'l jest
Now that's the best
Just make sure your joke arrives on time!
(preferably not passed the fifth line)
NOTE: I was gonna post this for the Limerick Contest, but I wrote it a day too late ... in any case it was fun nonetheless :)
TREES ARE OUR REAL FRIENDS
I like trees. They are patient friends. They
Don’t move suddenly away
From lifelong neighbours born here.
And don’t apply for jobs in California.
They stick with their peers all their life long
Have deep roots, preferably strong.
They welcome sun-weary people aching
And don’t complain if their fruit is taken
They truly must have patient belief :
To tolerate the cowardly yellow leaf
Which abandons them in the fall.
And then to cap it all
They must train a new set of green recruits
Each spring from the twigs to the roots.
And what’s more, they don’t condemn
Or kick at dogs peeing on them,
Don’t yell at kids carving their initial,
And they just look so sacrificial
If they are chopped down.
Let us have a lot more trees
And let it happen soon, oh please !
running 12 men
24 in total, puffing carbon dioxide
inhaling oxygen from the outside,
shouting a teammate from the other side
watch that space
whistle,that one is playing offside
think should do that in practice,
spectators like that on the east side,
the players,
the passer-by
where is the wayside
not like sport field with pedestrian roadside
where should one pass?
in a broad daylight in the countryside
a day thinking within side
playing is preferably a cool weather alongside
small place
big planet
on a 45 degrees
rotating with a small country side
Bastion,
Hold onto me;
Preferably closer,
The embrace feels so nice ~
O’ asylum, cover mine hearts
Stronghold