Best Punctuate Poems
Encased in an isolated castle of an old fool’s paradise,
A decaying dagger rests upon a distressed oak table.
Frayed book pages scatter across termite-riddled floors.
The calligraphy carries echoes of triumphant battles,
Vividly etched in ink.
A revered legacy is forgotten in decades of decay,
Its inked glory fading into disarray.
Reminiscing of bygone days when youth was a sturdy partner at my behest,
Now weathered crimson dahlias adorn the windowsills
Of a desolate dynasty,
As the last petal falls.
Echoes of faded footsteps can be heard within the empty halls of waste.
What remains is a golden crown with sanguine marquise
Resting heavily upon an exile’s head.
How do I conquer the bloodstained fear trickling within the fractals,
Reflecting off the scorching sun that swallows flames,
Swirling around the ashen pyre
Of the poetic corpses I’ve slain for validation?
An inquisition paints a vicious vermilion
Within the sobbing stained glass.
The once-perfect porcelain flesh of our legacy is flayed,
Surrounded by the whispers of forgotten souls.
Cobwebs drape over shattered dreams,
As beams of light punctuate looming shadows.
Concealed beneath cold stone lies the family crypt,
Patiently awaiting its reluctant visitor,
Beckoning the exalt through clandestine corridors.
Within the hushed chamber of undying slumber,
He recalls the tragic tale.
Before him stand his beloved wife and children,
Forever ensnared in the clutches of eternal sleep.
Echoes of the past replay like eerie shadows,
Retelling the grim chronicle of their demise.
His envious, wrathful younger brother succumbed
To the greed of his own ambition.
In the darkness hour of that dreadful night, the dagger-wielding usurper
Plunged their existence into oblivion,
Casting spirits of suppressed speeches to weep
Within wailing walls.
Now I am the cerulean dusk of the gloaming,
A burnt-out waxen ivory,
The candle before their tombstone.
Categories:
punctuate, dark, fantasy, heartbroken, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
“no sweeter sounds of song in winter
than from the one you hold
close to your heart …”
Quote by ~ Poet
A Winter’s Song
Frozen beauty of cold, crisp, midwinter -
Landscape shines in magical diamond dust.
Ice crystals hanging break free to splinter
as winds do blow with a shivering gust -
blankets all in hues of snow white tipped crust.
Silky snowflakes enchantingly swirl, twirl
dancing to a symphony of birdsong.
Sounds of whistling warbles daily unfurl -
rich contralto melodies, that, so long
for warmer days erelong, in soulful song.
Iced wreaths of holly, red berries, glisten
as acoustic waves reflect off the ground.
Crisp crunch of snow, chilled breath, as I listen -
creaking trees, snapping twigs, of winter’s sound
punctuate the season’s rhythmic abound.
No sweeter song held more dear to my heart
than my true love’s angelic voice that drifts
across frosty tracks like sculptured, fine art.
A winter’s song of flamed love warms and lifts
my spirits as he sings me treasured gifts.
For someone special with all my love …
Categories:
punctuate, love, winter,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Write Me
your ballad of beliefs
your epistle of emotions
your parable of paradigms
your chronicle of convictions
Underline Me
------------ -------
leave nothing out
embrace the honesty
bare your naked soul
Italicize Me
finesse the cadence
narrate with engaging elan
embellish with panache and aplomb
UPPERCASE ME
Magnify the Momentous
Shout from the Summits
Accentuate the Ascendant Apogees
Bold Me
use your signature font
imbue me with the vocabulary of your DNA
...the glossary of your very own fingerprints
*Punctuate*
your paragraphs with personality;
your chapters with charm -
your stanzas with s t y l e !
I am your diary of daydreams
your scrapbook of stories
your poem of promises
your litany of life
I am your tale
Write
me
written 6 July 2023
Categories:
punctuate, life, write, writing,
Form:
Free verse
I woke to the sound of sizzling bacon, the aroma of fresh baked Muffins and my Beautiful Lenore in her bright green Teddy. "Nubbies", I said, "what time is it." Lenore said" for You it is 3:30P.M., June 27th, 2013. You are in the O.R. at Dartmouth Hospital. For me it is time to bring YOU to Eternity for a short time."What are You talking about; Baby." I died last night before we had time to go to the Bridal Suite. I do not want You to go through that pain again. Please come with me to the railing on the starboard side of the ship."Below the shuffle board deck?""Nubbies, just
trust me." As we walked outside, I noticed there was no air,no breeze, no sea lapping against the side of the boat, the sun seemed pasted in the sky. Where is Mom and Dad;where's my Ma, Where is everybody? Harry we are frozen in time, for last night and today; never happened for you. I asked the Lord to give us this time together. I was 3 months pregnant when I said "I DO" I want you to see JoAnne Naomi Grow up. Now
Full Moonlight Stand on the railing with me and when I say 3; Jump. 1, 2, 3. You would think we would plummet into the Caribbean Sea, but we splashed into the Full Moon. The sun was warm,the birds sat on my shoulders, singing a song of Life Forever. The Peace, Serenity and Tranquility was unearthly. I then saw GOD and the Son of Salvation hugged me and in a Mezmerizing Voice said Welcome Home.
To be Continued
I want to apologize to those of YOU who are punctuationally bound to Poetry I do not know how to punctuate people talking. I know I'm suppose to use "" marks Sorry I LOVE YOU ALWAYS and FOREVER YOUR Liege...Harry
Categories:
punctuate, faith, god, imagination, inspirational,
Form:
Narrative
This garden city
Concrete skyscrapers loom;
Greenery punctuate
Tree-lined avenues
Bourgainvillea clusters;
Traffic jam companions
Waltzing slowly
Overhead bridge;
Ant-people below
Old neighbourhood
Heartland community;
Ageing populace
Feeble old lady
Speeds on wheels;
Electric commotion
Playground
For small kids and big;
Noisy charades
Fitness park
For young and old;
Fighting spirit
City side walk cafe
Crowded after hours;
Beery happy hours
Noticeable absence
Dry spell ending;
Sudden torrential rain
Umbrellas raised,
Parasols hoisted;
Too late this drenching
Side walk cobbler
New lease for old shoes;
Assorted wears
Hyper art queue
Long-winded delay;
Fussy customer
Bank ATM await
Ready to dispense;
Urgent pocket money
Office podium
By shopping mall;
Buzz of human traffic
Downtown hype
Temptations galore;
Mostly unnecessary
Leon Enriquez
23 Apr 2014
Singapore
Categories:
punctuate, identity,
Form:
Haiku
(Dedication: For Dr Ram Mehta.)
Morning light
Spreads divine psalm --
Touch of zest
By this stone bench
Sleeping cat purrs --
Feline dreamscapes
That old man sits alone
Strange neighbour --
Thoughtful wanderings
Sadness in shock:
Food court bankrupt --
Ghost town feeling
Dress fitting session
Bridal gowns, smart suits --
A lovely affair
Just because
You said so --
Let it be then
Brief excursion
Nowhere near --
Beyond conflict
Open agenda
This showpiece --
Mood swing construct
Cheer wears a face
Serious as glee;
Smiles punctuate
For many hours
This wait upon --
Something new perhaps
Meal time in-between
Lunch and dinner --
Not quite the same
Gifts freely given
Notice brisk gratitude --
Thoughtful intent
Style a smile
Wait a while --
Cheer now piles
Explore fringes
Curiosity peeks --
Discovery sublime
Leon Enriquez
05 June 2014
Singapore
Categories:
punctuate, appreciation,
Form:
Haiku
Folks say his mother used to read
Stories of ancient warriors indeed,
To give birth to a child as brave
As a legend beneath a historic grave.
'Achilles'- She used to call her son
And he grew up, fascinating like none,
Granny still zealous, planted ardor aboard
His mother gifted him a fervent sword.
Ninja granny took him to a wonderland
Where he was hailed as a warrior grand,
Every day he read of kings in wars
Every night he escaped worldly doors.
That night he was woken by an alphabet
It was an 'A' shivering in cold sweat,
"Achilles our savior, we need thee
To release our inmates and set them free."
Arose Achilles to the land of words
Where stories flew past like birds,
Colored houses of phrases spoken
Missing alphabets from windows broken.
The morning sun made up of a sentence
Pleaded Achilles for their independence,
Leaving A and C all had been caught
Their land left with stories that fought.
Achilles swayed his little gifted sword
Headed to the prison he'd never explored,
Oh what courage flowed in his veins
Passionate to free alphabets of chains.
The prison of punctuation was guarded
By creepy spelling mistakes disregarded,
He fought valiantly and killed them all
Released alphabets from the prison wall.
He met the King of Punctuation Marks
Demanded to know why he fired sparks,
"Achilles the brave! We hail thee
We were ruined by an unknown flea.
But now that you have saved our land
I plead you to let our message expand,
When people in the world pen their tales
Let them punctuate or the train derails.
As long as punctuation stays alive
Their stories will flutter and strive,
Or else mistakes might attack us again
Their follies will make our enemies gain."
Brave Achilles narrated to granny on his way back,
Tired, dozed off dreaming of another exciting track,
He mumbled "Hold on! I come to save the world afar";
Granny closed his book, tomorrow The Alexander or a Czar?
Poet's Note: Experimenting with the funny granny series, this is my first tale. You can read the second one here:
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/ninja_granny_ii_-_exuberant_colors_1261206
May 17, 2020
BRIAN'S CHOICE L ,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~Winner: 3rd Place
Categories:
punctuate, adventure, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
I know you're just a tiny dot,
but in the world of writing, not
a mark more powerful exists.
When thoughts get jammed up, you insist
they separate and free your spot.
When composition chaos reigns,
you enter. Sentences regain
their clarity. There's none like you.
The comma and conjunction do
their part, but champion you remain.
We both perform our jobs with verve.
I, semicolon, also serve
to punctuate; but I’m not strong
like YOU, my hero. Am I wrong
to want you? I know; I’ve got nerve!
I’ve been in love with you for years.
Now, please allay this lady’s fears
and say you love and want me too!
I’ll bid my loneliness adieu.
Our friends, the question marks, will cheer.
June 16, 2019, entered in Brian Strand's Your Choice (10) Personification Poetry Contest
May 20, 2021
entered in the Personification Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
punctuate, humor, love,
Form:
Personification
ice coated fence posts
punctuate the snowy trail…
frosty whiffs of breath
_______________________________
Winter Haiku
Categories:
punctuate, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Lush vales wedged between rolling foot hills
rugged mountain streams course through ancient vales;
water rapids breach rocks down on the dells,
vagrant pools wander out through worn edges.
Vivid odors punctuate water veins,
ripe with fertile grass, fruit and berry bogs.
Pristine secluded swamps, log aquilines
echoing native sounds, murmuring frogs.
Katydids call out a lusty affair,
as dusk settles to a vibrating night.
Fireflies flicker perfuming the air;
wild eyes reflecting moon lit flight.
Categories:
punctuate, nature
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
TEXAS PRAIRIE PARADISE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
here, where the horizon bends.
the morning sun spills its warmth.
the Texas prairie stretches~
a vast unbroken beauty where
golden grasses sway.
the air, thick with the scent of sage,
wraps around me like a familiar embrace.
dust motes dance in the light,
tiny galaxies suspended
in the quiet splendor of morning.
cacti punctuate the landscape
these sentinels of resilience,
their spines reminding me
that life thrives in the harshest of places,
and wildflowers burst forth, fragile yet fierce.
here, the earth breathes differently.
my heart learns to listen
to the distant call of a hawk,
to the rustle of a rabbit, and
to the soft sighs of the prairie.
the hawk circles high above me,
its shadow gliding across the land,
a guardian of this sprawling solitude,
reminds me of the freedom,
of the vastness within and without.
I stand rooted in this stillness, finding clarity.
in the expanse, I find belonging.
beneath the wide-open sky,
I am both lost
and found.
Categories:
punctuate, 12th grade, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
Proving a point! An exaggerated ending
I see - I am drawing conclusions
An overstatement! Influential indeed
An extravagant means of spreading viewpoint
Ah! I write - I use it to exclaim
I end my proven thoughts with ability
Drawing attention to the written word
I see - you see ! You get the message I am sending
May it be imagery or reality , let there be reasons
With culture and thus cultivate the weed
Again with creation , a proven value and point
I write - we write - exclamation we claim
Gliding with the pen , word after word with agility
Fine motor skill development - and with an IQ
A beauty of language and never too absurd
Writing beauty with exclamation
I must say ! Complex for you still
I see the wisdom! Do you see the point?
Picturesque ! Vocabulary at its best
Again I proclaim the mental images
Astounding! To be exclamatory
And I thus, I see! my visions clear
My exclamation point! very clearly dear
When I read - I then seek the truth
Looking for the point - I still draw conclusion
That the exclamation therefore beauteous it may be
Not only proved a point! It may stupify me
And I know you are in there in your head
Truly listening to what is said?
He nods - she winks - I guess its true
The beauty of exclamation is really becoming of you
And I see imagery - I see rhythm
We teach - you listen - you write the words
And punctuate - I still amazed
That it will astound you too - silence is golden
You learned - the exclamation at its best
Sometimes may be used with some degree of protest
And in your expressions this I see, it stimulates
And indeed - with beauty it articulates
Wow! The point when used in prose
The words are brilliant and the point then rose.
Categories:
punctuate, humorous,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Wild rugged den of Hatfield and McCoy,
Entered the Union with birth pangs of war.
Sweet meadows punctuate inked river beds,
Trapped in mountains black wealth of coal.
Volunteers--first to send her sons to serve.
In hidden glens Bigfoot and Mothman roam.
Raging rivers white water rafters ride;
Green valleys house her ancient Celtic stock.
Indians roamed, leaving mystic burial mounds;
Night music choir of frog and whip-poor-will.
In forests treasure of ginseng and yellow root;
Apples--green golden fruit crisped in summer dews.
Mysterious mountain culture all her own,
Infused into her native citizens alone.
© Faye Lanham Gibson, 4-15-2014
Categories:
punctuate, culture, mountains,
Form:
Acrostic
Today when passing my mirror on by
I saw an image that filled me with fright
'Twas mother looking me straight in the eye —
Wrinkles, grey hair (on my face in this light!)
Seeing I'd aged to such a degree,
I then sought to examine further down.
I saw not my housecoat hitting my knee,
But a boob hanging the length of my gown.
Teary at this unyielding decay
I threw my arms up in resigned acceptance.
THAT’S when my arm skin started to play
Clapping together like an Irish step dance.
And as if to punctuate my despair
My children joined in this unfriendly game.
They pointed out my age-spotted hands (no fair!)
And their grandma’s were one and the same!
I smiled to keep me from giving up
And noticed I'd left my teeth out in their cup.
Revised September 22, 2018
Categories:
punctuate, age, body, change, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
- Punctuate a a sign, which gives the reader time to breathe. . . . . I breathe. . .
Categories:
punctuate, words, write,
Form:
Senryu