Best Purvey Poems
The sun rests in its golden orb, shining bright dazzling the eyes
Meadows green with dew drops fresh, the cattle lazing away cries
The farmhands nap beneath the trees, the breeze caress and dies
As the curfew knells folks head home and pray
Thanking the Lord for the rewarding day
Face brimming with sheer bliss and mirth
Content they praise and sing from birth
What true happiness can be witnessed herein
For the Lord blesseth those who seek of him.
Those greedy and selfish , pine more riches
Idle days wasted, in slumber and glitches
While holding contempt for those plebeians
And are never content, contrasting agrarians
No time for Lord, who observe cadence
No more thanks for the blessings immense
Heaven doth beckon those who believe
And the rest he reckon, to try and grieve
For....
This is the day that God gave to play and he purvey
This is the day that God gave to toil and stop foil
This is the world that God gave, for men to live and pray
This is the world that God gave to care, share and stay.
What a wonderful world!!!
© Nadiya (28 Jan '15)
*Won 3rd place on 30 Jan 2015 in the contest 'This is the day that Lord gave' by Verlena S. Walker
Form:
Quiet Nights and Quiet Stars
The cozy, round, garden table,
In that smoky Columbian cafe.
A time long ago, and far away.
Let’s go back in time, we’re able.
The dance floor, we happily purvey,
In this country, let us joyfully stay!
In our house, your head I will cradle.
Your Latin eyes, still make me sway.
I truly vow, with you, I will forever stay!
7/25/2024 poem 2
Laying in my cozy bed
And drifting off to dreams,
A sudden panic fills my head:
What if this isn't as it seems?
What if while I'm tucked in,
Slipping into sleep,
Giant monsters and their kin
Through the darkness creep?
I draw my hand back to me,
deep into my sheet,
Scared that if I leave it free
Something monstrous it'll meet!
It's not like this is new to me
When I'm alone in my abode.
Frightsome beasts I fear I'll see-
Is there one in the commode?
Sure, to you it's just a toilet
Standing stock-still in the loo.
But of my mind, when I fear and fret,
You haven't got a clue.
Yes, I know it's just machinery,
But maybe when I flush
Horrors will purvey the scenery,
Responding in a rush.
Eek! Stop talking! Wait, wait, wait!
What's that above our heads?
A rusty, musty AC grate,
Is that what you just said?
I know it's dust, I know it's shadow
Behind the grate's steel bars,
But looking up from down below
I see a face pockmarked with scars.
As I brush my pearly whites at night
I risk a glance up high,
And then I nearly die of fright
And soon begin to cry.
I see the face, still staring down,
Watching me brush my teeth.
Daddy runs in and looks around,
So I heave a sigh of relief.
He gets his tools, tells me to look,
And gently unscrews the grate.
I watch, see neither beast, nor crook,
Nor any evil trait.
After all this time, I've come to see
That I don't need to fear.
Creatures lurk not in shadows near me,
Nor every creak I hear.
I've come a long way, and I'll never go back
To how I was before,
When from every crevice, every crack
I feared beasties would pour.
What's that? It's time to go to bed?
Ok, I guess you're right.
But, um, well, before you go...
Would you please leave on the light?
The sun rests in its golden orb, shining bright dazzling the eyes
Meadows green with dew drops fresh, the cattle lazing away cries
The farmhands nap beneath the trees, the breeze caress and dies
(Yields of green fields basked in HIS glory are being challenged)
As the curfew knells folks head home and pray
Thanking the Lord for the rewarding day
Face brimming with sheer bliss and mirth
Content they praise and sing from birth
What true happiness can be witnessed herein
For the Lord blesseth those who seek of him.
(Twilight reveals long dreary paths, destination ambiguous)
Those greedy and selfish , pine more riches
Idle days wasted, in slumber and glitches
While holding contempt for those plebeians
And are never content, contrasting agrarians
No time for Lord, who observe cadence
No more thanks for the blessings immense
Heaven doth beckon those who believe
And the rest he reckon, to try and grieve
(Only the righteous reap bounty at the terminus)
For....
This is the day that God gave to play and he purvey
This is the day that God gave to toil and stop foil
This is the world that God gave, for men to live and pray
This is the world that God gave to care, share and stay.
What a wonderful world!!!
©Nadiya (17 Feb '15)
For the contest '' by Craig Cornish
poems: 'What the Lord Gave'(primary) posted 28 Jan 2015
'Glorious Field-Visual 2'(secondary) posted 29 Jan 2015
Form:
Comin' to the pad without very much to say
Not ever sure where these words'll take me
Been out my mind, I still ain't lost my way
Learned quick nothings what it seems to be
Never been one to just listen and obey
Yeah yeah you have 20/20 but can you SEE?
Knowledge is like a never ending buffet
Took some time to find myself, now I got the key
I'm an odd mix of confidence and disarray
Some days I feel too much, other days apathy
Always adding pieces to myself, paper mâché
Hangin' on to a few pieces of "me", debris
Oxymoron, my opinions change every day
Cling to nothing and you'll forever be free
All I know is I know nothing, my mind is clay
I keep writin' solely for the sake of sanity
Astray, purvey, here to sauté the cliche
Have you found a way out? I'll pay any fee
Oppose my knowledge, dance around you like ballet
I'll teach you the steps to the dance of vanity
29 November 2010
My Time
Time is laid upon me
To nourish by virtue and unspoiled
Choose from a road – concrete or soiled
Learn the ropes from every tempting epitome
Chasing time or run out of time
Precisely or faulty, I succumbed to pressure
From naïve unsteady step to a walk in paseo of adventure
Hustle and bustle of the big city, daytime ‘til nighttime
I maybe at the halfway of my life, for another part, I pray
For life is ephemeral, newborn will exist, like the cycle of seasons
Recurring and invigorating promise, to exist for a reason
Rhythm in time, but in life, we skip and leap to purvey
So I am here, tired and tried
Able to catch up the time, ready to convey succession
Of the endless chain of human chronicle collection
In my end time, I may say, I chased life with pride
Earth's golden orb rises o're the new eastern sky,
Where red sandhills and goslings blithely fly.
The secret mist of the morning bids its final adieu,
As a young day spontaneously, begins anew.
A spectacular derby in technicolor array,
Creation of marvels beyond all mortal purvey.
Strategies and concepts each totally unique,
Imaginative images, unusual techniques.
Like a Donatello or more modern Rodin,
Or a charming sunset, on the banks of the Thames.
Like waves sculpting sands to incredible shapes,
Masters of design, multi-faceted scapes.
Drafting to paper near perfect forms,
Like Katrina's eye, the heart of the storm.
Thoughts and drawings consigned to wood,
Gravity of assignments, way more than hath stood.
Each masterpiece weighted and given their due,
Fully loaded, then firmly sealed with sealant hot glue.
Scientifically apportioned, positioned in place,
Scaled aerodynamically, all else displaced.
Like the tide's surge that fills the narrowing fjord,
Each storm its waters, the work of our Lord.
Like the great Cumulus arching up to the sky,
Fiery chariots cinema-graphing, in our mind's eye.
Next to the last step they sand, then they buff;
Visages changing to finished from rough.
Transformed master sculptures, all parts in their place,
Ready at last, for the great derby race.
A final veneer, their colors of choice,
Sparkling, gleaming finishes for these magnificent toys.
Anticipation escalating fore' the event begins,
Rooting for our favorites, family or friends.
aabb May 2, 2015
pale pink is the pre-dawn sky
"pink sky in mourning..."
today will be a pre-proceeding
- for some it will be the same
for some it will purvey monumental,
tsunamic, quaking, flashing innocence
as a muffled buzzing and pounding followed
by eerie stony silence enveloping the sun
FLASH! - what you knew you knew is gone
flash of white to yellow to red to black
billowing dread washes over as waves
upon waves cover all good of the world
and flotsam of teared memories float
in mind and vision from past treasures
dangerous are those loving thoughts
unarmed without any weapons of indifference
vulnerable to the suffering and anguish
to stagger about befuddled and weeping
singularly, communally the onlookers look on
and piles of cairned candles and trinkets
appear out of nowhere, everywhere
feeble attempts to express hurt and good
- no good will come - yet - in time -
in time - time scabs over the wounded
the blood-letting stops, tears wither
and night follows this immemorable day
that we always remember, eons from now
as if it were last hour that i noticed the time,
where did it go?, when will it stop?
© Goode Guy 2012-12-17
http://www.npr.org/2012/12/17/167427982/afghanistan-bomb
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2012/12/14/167248541/developing-shooting-at-elementary-school-in-newtown-conn
http://www.npr.org/2012/12/04/166519628/at-least-13-syrian-children-killed-in-mortar-attack
Nightly the familiar march,
sunset suffused with dawn.
Crushed the moments in between.
Neither praised nor cursed but
merely lost amid their myriad kin
and dreadfully forgotten.
Misplaced lives amid unreckoned days—
for sale by merchants of expired skill
who barter time and wrest unseemly bargains,
their words aligned with porous deeds,
maintained throughout in darkness
yet crumbling from within, seamy side disclosed
Frightful that our nobler minds
must daily banish all the fetid rancor
those in power tediously summon
from nether cursed realm that they purvey,
absent notice or concern
for those they step upon and maim.
Have you heard the cries of innocence
of all earth’s precious life?
Won’t you join me now outside,
as once again the light of day is stolen,
and ponder all the vast but unseen
intellect that permeates the sky?
The speed of thought is infinite
and fills the boundless depths of space.
To all the guardians of infinity
I nightly urge my fervent aspiration—
And hold aloft a sign of just one word,
and that word is AWAY.
Money I seek not for what it’ll purvey,
but for all the things it can take away.
Inglenook
She, the face in the embers,
The remnants of a raging fire,
Smoulders like a cigarette
Between lips of lustful desire.
Where men stoke in gay abandon,
Pokers hot as blacksmiths arms,
To fade and die in the ashes,
The inglenook of her charms.
Breathe, breathe, smoke inhale,
Fill your lungs, my laddy, my son,
And when you spit the bloody spit
What manhood will be done?
Ten a penny, 'tis Rose and Jenny
For whom you shall but die,
But it is dreams of her raging fire
That will burn the smokey sky.
She, the naked, fireside chat
Will weep upon the ashen grate,
And you dowsed her, her inglenook,
How it sealed a young mans fate.
Where flames rose and flames fell
Like the dance of a harlots fare,
And you, the gasp of life and death
Did often purvey her there.
Breathe, breathe, my laddy, breathe,
How dare you die so young,
The inglenook knows many tunes
But you have hardly sung.
Ten a penny, yet be you broke
And deader than her yearn,
She, the face in the embers,
When once, my son, you burned.
© RJVHorton2016
Could our verity be any unique?
Whenever the twenty-first century is antique,
Links are the best way to deal with everything
When even the pencils will betide self-replicating,
The whole would be vastly improved
And, the fortune of the rich would be approved
Would remove those in requisite thoroughly
There will be no grimness when there is no infirmity.
Autos would be entirely electrical
Fuel and diesel would behoove skeptical,
News and journals will be made ready on digital
People react to move visions by a flash signal.
Parcels won't be uttered for a long time
Besides, astonishingly swiftly and in prime
On voice order, pencils and pens would work
Baring, scribble down all that we would rework.
Everybody will include a robot in their house
That will perform anything, including catching a mouse
It will cook meals and neaten the home, with no screams
Additionally, conceive all your expectations and dreams.
The earth will deem even as sole leader
A man with odd propensity and backbone neater
We might glean the option to dwell out in the cosmos
And we'd stray out on rockets to shop for blue camos.
How slightly does the world treat spot our sacred history?
Purvey future posterity with a canvas to our glittery
Sober-mindedness is the best way to crumble in terror
Indeed, pens will be automatized to abject horror.
Written: February 06, 2022
Let's explore digital technology Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Simon Rogerson
A storm is brewing in the south
Lightning flashes thunders shout
Rain is coming without a doubt
Creatures lookout, creatures lookout
Rain is pouring, lightning flashes
East strong winds bring rain that clashes
Blowing through the door's tight sashes
Lightning flashes, lightning flashes
Its been awhile since such display
We've had many, many dry days
Wonderful moisture to purvey
Thank You today, thank You today
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Contest:Monotetra
Written this July 5, 2013
We don’t dare
To mention it
Or to others, it purvey
We do not try
To clarify
And thus, our fears allay
Which leaves us with
Unproven myth
That just, gets in our way
We should not bide
In our pride
But ask, what’s gone astray
With friends our ties
We improvise
And some, just go their way
But, with family share
And our souls bare
So need not, from them stray
BOEMS BY JA 212
Bosom friend’s bean feast.
Delightfully enjoying fun filled jamboree.
Graceful tall laddie appearing darkly menacing.
Sat bolt upright with his eyes bored into me.
My mind was still, yet fixed at his stare.
Just then I noticed something unfair!
He was holding his phone vertically,
Phone camera exactly facing me.
Nonplussed and not sure how to react!
Wasted no time, trotted up to him,
To see, what was on the screen.
Yes, there was something, which he slid hurriedly.
I wanted to, but could not snatch the phone.
Still I wanted him to know!
“Look when, in a public place,
Ethically one shouldn’t keep the phone in a way,
That the lady sitting right in front, gets into sceptical purvey!”
“It’s a democracy, how I keep it, is my choice!”
He oozed out the content of his brain.
“Yes, but the rights granted, carry along some responsibilities,
Your ethical impunity, my dear isn’t a synonym of democracy.”
I retaliated harshly!
And the feud ended with a simple “Sorry.”
But the question, that remains is,
“Is it not, an abuse of rights?”
“when we are right, why do we need to justify?”
Why can't we remain morally upright?