Best Qualifiers Poems
Evergreen flavored mantras
did nothing to purge bitter bile from my lips
nor slake the smoldering thirst for a Rosary remedy.
Tick-tock petals unfurled one by one
as your poppy shed its last sepal
releasing a scarlet sigh across sunset skies
whilst I placed a tender kiss upon your twilight.
If but for your gossamer bloom in persimmon perfection,
I would not hunger for your ambrosial whispers
nor rue the earthly drought of undying nectar.
I stray, a waif lost with my armful of loss,
blind behind the tear-rusted folds
of a weeping veil’s eclipse.
My psyche a pauper
rich in the poverty of penniless promises,
empty as echoes in hollow holes
ringing with wringing reverberations.
In the grasp of atheist fingers I clasp Holy beads
tilling cries and whys.
Every tear a sorrow sown in brambles,
whose sloe fails to ripen sweet redemption
in the fertile sham and barren sand of my humanity;
crushed by the tusk of this damnable dusk.
Susan Ashley
April 13, 2020
~ First Place ~
February 5, 2023
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 9
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Your Best Poem Ever
Sponsor: John Hamilton
~ Seventh Place ~
Premiere Contest: Crushed
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
~ First Place ~
Standard Contest: Your Best Free Verse 2020
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Royal blue sky scattered sapphire clouds
On horizon embroidered in navy blue attire
Summoned by the onset of marigold sun
Emitting amber gold on tuscan yellow fire
Where tapestry of fluffy lavender floats
Decorating patterns of designs periwinkle
Mosaic of colors then spray-paint the water
Spreading a layer of golden yellow cover
Shimmering gold dust on twilight ripples
Abutting brushstrokes of dark blue egyptian
I saw you briefly where first time we met
On the lonely bridge that extends into bay
But as the dark landmass peeked its head
And the lifeless vegetation glinted despair
The tangerine breeze announced your exit
Quivering our aura beneath glittering riffle
For you refused to witness impending flame--
Broken vows ablaze in last breath of sunset
Written: August 4, 2018
Submitted on February 6, 2023 to:
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Submitted on December 7, 2022 To:
Placed 3rd: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Poem of the day on August 7, 2018
Placed first in standard contest #180 by Brian Strand
Plunging, lifting, plunging -as wind blew ashes all around -
the shovels' blades incised the cold and black encrusted ground.
Attached to shovel handles were the arms of skeletons - of men,
who pausing, hacked and wheezed; then bent and smote the dirt again.
With bruised decrepit bodies - and coerced - they struggled on
beneath a sky from which the sun for them had long withdrawn.
And seeping into nostrils came that too familiar stench
when shrieking had died out, and still - they toiled at the trench.
Perhaps they dreamed of tunnels; that the cracks within the earth
inflicted by their shovels formed a path to their rebirth.
What horror in the knowing there were no more tears to cry
or that their bodies - shoeless - might, in graves they’d dug, soon lie.
First posted 5/6/10
Entered in the '2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 8' Poetry Contest of Mark Toney
Entered Feb. 5, 2023
for 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' Final Placement Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Death comes to all like a great shadow,
servant of reality when the truth of it sinks
in leaving the experience embedded on
one’s soul. Milt, given to remembrance
in his lifetime, moments flashing by, when
the congregation gathered to celebrate his
time on earth. But in the book of scrolls
winter is definite in which age must give way
to the new, one, he’d readily give for
the sprinkling of innocence created to start
life’s process all over again, with perpetual
regularity. He would, from behind the thin
veil of Ionna, bless and comfort the unfortunate,
the depressed, the lame of an earthly lifetime in
songs of praise. Leave a recipe for a foregone
conclusion. Auf wiedersehen, we will meet again!
February 6th 2023/ 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers Final
Placement Poetry Contest.
Sponsor Mark Toney.
Mark Toney.
Oh, flower in this crannied wall,
how did your roots prevail and sprawl
from seed that landed in a crack-
so shallow, small, in woods set back
from warm sun rays, to grow in shade
with vines about you- old and frayed?
Your blossom glows a vibrant red;
you stand out bright among the dread
of tangled sprays and dried-out brush.
Your velvet petals boldly blush
just like a ruby- precious stone-
shines on a tarnished ring, alone.
My Cinderella, come with me-
this fine glass jar- your slipper be;
a perfect fit, it shields your foot
of roots now clean of forest soot.
Soon, fertile soil you'll thrive upon-
a princess rose on my green lawn,
beside a prince who grew so tall-
and too was rescued, roots and all.
---------------------------------
February 5, 2023
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Dutiful dawn awaits the radiant sun
Clothed in her mantle daubed with streaks of light.
And faithful to the course which life must run,
Receives the baton from retreating night.
Remote yet not alone, for down below
Creation is preparing to rejoice.
Faint silhouettes of trees begin to show,
And birdsong swells to greet her in full voice.
The precious golden orb will soon arise
And dawn prepares to slowly slip away.
A blush of pink expands across the skies;
The sun cuts through at last - a brand new day.
This gift of new beginnings should impart
A sense of awe in every human heart.
'2019 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement': sponsored by Mark Toney
submitted on April 1st 2019
April 2019 Premier 6,Any Form ,Any Theme ,Upto A Max Of 14( F O U R T E E N) Lines Poetry Contest : sponsored by Brian Strand
Wanting to shrug off this shell, break loose from me
Silence that damn hermit, hiccuping under his tree
Trapped inside too long, dormancy dreams to wake
Disgorging bubbly lava, fills in soporific landscapes
Longing to escape soft tissue, cast off mortal bones
Break shackles of mundanity, rid life’s infernal drone
Out there lies all answers, beyond the hermits void
His space mostly perfect, til our Big Bang destroyed
Go forth and multiply, primal stars hypernova like hell
Filling a cosmos with elements, configuring him as well
Hold your tongue hermit, stop humming about in bliss
Stay quiet down that hole, cease fumbling at the abyss
Deeper and deeper, below where basements depress
Sits an altar of incremental tables, poets go to confess
Forget truths algorithm, they’ll fool any polygraph test
And the hermit lies all day long, he meditates for a rest
Breathe in, breathe out, forget about terminal breaths
Don’t underestimate the ether, chants a monk in Tibet
Fill your mind with mindfulness, peace will set you free
Watch them hiccups abate now, our hermit’s all at sea
February 6th 2023 / 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers'
FINAL Placement Poetry Contest / Sponsor: Mark Toney
My aorta beats in golden poppies,
pulsing down slopes to pool
in a bruise of purple sage.
Though my eyes gleam
with lemon marigolds
snow caps of porcelain lupine
melt on my lashes,
undulating in a quiet tempest
of periwinkle asters.
Beneath a bluebell sky
the sun colors my cheeks
with the blush of primroses
as monarchs lilt
like birds of paradise
among velvet morning glories
and a shy alyssum breeze
caresses my emerald cloak.
3/26/19
Marathon Qualifiers Contest
Mark Toney
If my love were to be frozen in time
would its enamored glow forever remain
as poetry in a book, Sonnets written in rhyme?
If in flakes of snow, my heart was encased
would my affection wax and never wane?
It's said a heart without passion is frigid
and incapable of feeling torrid emotion,
but if winter frost glazed o'er me, a rose,
do you suppose my love would become rigid?
Nay! It would survive with endless devotion.
What of spring, when then I would thaw?
Would my tears mingle with melting ice?
Perish that thought for being profound,
for my love harbors no fault, foible, nor flaw.
The sting of cold is a meager sacrifice.
I will never be cloaked in withered petals
no wilting will be found in my tender bloom.
My ardor will not shrivel like dried nettles,
and no demise of my love will ever occur,
nor darkling days shrouded in sullen gloom.
No matter the harsh chill of Winter's season,
do not dither in despondent shadows,
for I will plead innocent, "Not guilty of treason!"
You've no need to fear woes of despair,
for nothing can weaken the bond we share.
Love avowed as truth, through eternity will last,
a promise etched across the breadth of my heart.
In realms of desire, I promise to linger with you,
and to this fervent pledge, I will hold steadfast
until the villain, mortality, wrests us apart.
February 6, 2023 / 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Poetry Contest / Sponsor: Mark Toney
July 28, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 10
Sponsor ~ Mark Toney
Quit thinking it's oh so
Quaint I'm good 'for my age'
Question is, why not? to
Quip, this old gray mare ain't
Quite what she used to be~
Quicker of will, I'm still
Quintessentially me.
4/15/21
Every so often, my mind wanders back to the summer of my youth, where a specific memory awaits.
Having completed my first year at University, I’ve come home. My younger brother John, fifteen, seems all grown up, so different. He’s gotten taller but it’s more than that.
I'm surprised when he offers me a tour of his new ‘Boyz Only’ clubhouse. I almost wonder if he has missed me while I was away, likely not. The shell of a hand-me-down camper has been converted into a hangout. When I mention that he keeps it surprisingly neat, he snickers and reveals his stash of hidden girlie magazines, safe from the inevitable parental inspection.
I am impressed, and at the same time, I can’t help but feel like I’ve entered a time bubble, a door, a transition. On one hand, it feels surreal; on the other hand, it’s simply an honour to just sit here as a guest.
I talk to John about what it was like to adapt to life in the big city. He talks to me about his recent exploits and his adventures with his friends. It isn’t long before we reminisce about the escapades we shared when we were younger. In our pauses, we’re somehow cognizant that we’re one step closer to adulthood, to what we might call freedom.
In the past year, I haven’t thought much about home and our countryside fields. For me it’s more about what the future has to offer. But on this day, it’s tangible how John and I are setting out on different journeys. He is next in line to fly the coop and I'm sure he realizes it. As we spread our wings, it’s obvious that the gap will only grow.
This precise moment clings golden to me, ever so close to the surface of my heart.
at the forest’s edge
by the old baseball field
youth within reach
AP: 1st place 2024, 2nd place 2026, Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on September 1, 2025 for contest 2025 POETRY MARATHON MILE 13 sponsored by MARK TONEY - RANKED 1ST
and on November 15, 2025 for contest 2025 POETRY MARATHON QUALIFIERS' FINAL PLACEMENT sponsored by MARK TONEY - RANKED 14TH
Golden paint drips from diaphanous air,
beneath the opalescent autumn blue sky,
jade foliage enfolds full-bloomed flowers,
I fly my heart like a bird over the canopy.
The canopy of your allure so beguiling
takes me to the enticing height of ecstasy.
The nest we build in the cleft of boughs
glistens in love-laced moonshine night.
Night of strife surged as wrecking storm,
the nest is demolished to debris of despair.
You drift away to the sunny sky obscure,
leave me to languish in the spasm of winter.
Winter frost slithers with the north wind
to desolateness of the defoliated boughs.
I feel my love freeze within the arctic heart
amid the serrated shadow of broken wings.
_______________
Written : August 10, 2022
February 6, 2023
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL
Placement Poetry Contest
Sponsored : Mark Toney
Still bodies piling in spooky dress
longing for last touch of sweet caress.
On the street are young hearts lying lifeless.
Shouting joy at this point and time is heartless.
In the blink of eye, hopeful souls faded away.
The clear horizon suddenly turned to a mist of gray.
What some could do was to drop their knees and pray
but muttered words were all that they could say.
May such misfortune in such dusk of time not happen again
for the orphaned hearts hardly find a way to take the pain.
May God bless the souls of the hearts that were slain
so the lives they lived will not fall on the hands of vain.
One could hardly think that time would give birth to an ache like this.
May the faded souls find a way to climb the hills of bliss
so the mourning love will not ache so much for the hearts they miss.
May the lips of rapture greet the weeping evening with a calming kiss.
October 31, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 19 Contest (1st place)
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Judged: November 11, 2022
February 6, 2023
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' Final Placement Poetry Contest (24th place overall, from 267 days and 945 poems)
Sponsor: Mark Toney
" . . . I experience the ultimate thrill.
When all the noises around me are still."
Quote by _L Milton Hankins (1941-2022)
In memory of Milt who loved the Pantoum form.
___________________
I have been writing stories and poems since a young girl,
writing about my cats, teddy bears, my dolls and flowers;
love making my words fly and swirl, and twirl, whirl and unfurl,
in my cozy attic room- I could write my words for hours.
Writing about my cats, teddy bears, my dolls and flowers,
though, as I got older, I wrote deep poems and stories;
in my cozy attic room- I could write my words for hours,
writing of my grief, my life, thoughts- in all categories.
Though, as I got older, I wrote deep poems and stories,
my poetry is often sad messages to the world;
writing of my grief, my life, thoughts - in all categories,
like lost leaves fluttering wildly in the wind my words have whorled.
My poetry is often sad messages to the world,
and words pour out from my pen as a song or a prayer;
like lost leaves fluttering wildly in the wind my words have whorled,
and often nature poems and funny poems ... I share.
And words pour out from my pen as a song or a prayer,
love making my words fly and swirl, and twirl, whirl and unfurl;
and often nature poems and funny poems ... I share,
I have been writing stories and poems since a young girl.
______________________
November 28, 2022
Poetry/Pantoum/Writing Poetry For Milton
Copyright Protected, ID 11-1505-155-28
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
I dedicate this Pantoum in honor of my poetic friend
Lewis Milton Hankins
1941- 2022
Written for the Premiere contest, Pantoum on Writing
sponsor, L MILTON HANKINS,
This is a contest that will never be judged as
Milton, passed away on December 22, 2022
Submitted to the Premiere contest, 2022 Poetry Marathon, Mile 24
(poems dedicated to the Memory of L Milton Hankins)
sponsor, Mark Toney, Judged 01/22/2023
Second Place
Submitted to the Standard contest, 2022 Marathon Qualifiers Final Placement
sponsor, Mark Toney, Judged 03/04/2023
Twelve Place
Pink hue flamingo it must be due to all
the carotenoid pigments feasted on
algae and crustaceans
An elongated neck spirals
and filters such sensations
Sharing color is Okinawa salmon sushi,
bolster lobster and shrimp scrimp
Graceful qualifiers primp poised tropical dwellers
balancing effortlessly on one outstretched leg,
A ballerina’s pirouette in fuchsia tutus’
Statuesque stillness in shallow water
Rosette feathers flair flamboyance
Passionate plumage, blushing boas
Webbed feet tap and stamp below,
an aquatic burlesque show
The flamenco dance named after you
Rose-tinted creature tranquil, wader
Hook-billed blackened lamellae
sieved nobly, an intense look in a print
Cluster buster of pink with lengthy legs that sprint