Best Quotations Poems
Love is the essence.
Your presence is flavor.
I'll savor you "Now and Later."
Your sweetness is one,
of many candies,
not just good night pillow mint "Andes."
I'm a "sucker" for you,
like an "Everlasting Gobstopper," forever true.
Even if there's "Mounds" on the "Rocky Road,"
we'll "Crunch" it out and keep our oath.
You gave me a "Ring Pop" and I said, "I do."
You're forever my "Sweettart" and I love you.
You know I'm shy, but a great romancer.
"Red Rope" me in, like a "Jolly Rancher."
Let's make it "Good and Plenty,"
as true love's meant to be.
We'll start with "Hershey's Hugs,"
then we'll twist into "Kisses."
Doesn't that sound delicious?
I'll lick your "Necco,"
as you tickle my ears.
My "Snickers" are so hard,
I'm brought to tears.
I'll "Rollo"-ver and purr like a "KitKat"
while you tenderly rub my back.
"Mr. Goodbar," you're way above par.
You make relaxing easy,
like bendy "Laffy Taffy."
You give me "Red Hots" with your fingertips.
""M"mm "&" "M"mm," are upon my lips.
Take me to "Mars," in the "Milky Way,"
Take me anywhere, as long as you stay.
Call me "Baby Ruth," or whatever you please.
Call me your girl, or a playful tease.
You're a little nutty, my funny "Almond Joy."
When it's "Reece's," I'll play with your toy.
You're not so shabby, fancy "Sugar Daddy."
We'd make great "Sugar Babies."
Maybe with lots of practice,
we might have "Twix."
We could name them "Mike & Ike,"
or something we both like.
You're such a "Big Hunk,"
and I love "Whoppers."
Let's make this night one of many non-stoppers.
(Candy names were originally in bold instead of quotations, but it didn't transfer over
correctly.)
Here, within my dark abyss of stark silence,
I hear the jangling tunes of rusted chains
echo futile summer dreams
like wildflower chimes in the wind,
comforting my inner moon~
still bleeding self-inflicted sorrow,
in need of a balmy muse
as my heart painfully exhales poetry,
breathing in the peace of petrichor,
grieving through my pen on paper
amidst procrastinated punctuations,
confusing the columns of calm
between the quiet quotations of healing.
But somewhere between the
unpredictable lines of emotional storms,
you’ll find our forgotten feelings,
sedated by fireflies fluttering
through the musical mists of sleepless nights,
quenched like once upon a sacred quill,
floating amongst salt and light,
like a crescent’s rose blooming into the blues,
learning to erase the unspoken shadows
lining the boulevard of my weathered soul,
for this is the song of the pearl
resting in a sand-soaked bed
of broken shells,
turning oceanic pages
with metaphors that ebb and flow,
like a collage of dancing diamonds,
cleansed with colors of sunsets
softer than the chorus of h o p e
wrapped like souvenirs
laced in saffron and sage.
As words escaped constricted passage
of time from eons of layered myths,
legends of demi-gods thus linked,
in glowing rendition, with whisk on hand
the Orator with staff, sang the Eel to slumber.
As words from parched lips of orchids, flowed
dispersing sweet juices germinating dense spheres
of time in which history was packed in roots,
armed with psalms in measured cadences,
the Orator soothed kings and chiefs.
As words of our ancestors oiled and pampered
by prophesies of aging oracles, songs of lovers
and monotonous chants of old men...slithered
into hiding while physical wars waged, succinctly
the Orator proclaimed the heroic pursuits of warriors.
As words, precision in recitation of kinship ties
craftily sewn by political machinations of unions
vital for survival of race waltzing in purity of blue
when blood flowed thru veins of aging rocks as
the Orator cemented pacts chanting tribal honorifics.
As words, imageries of sky bursting, moon phasing sunsets pertaining to legends of my village heroes,
sweet nectars that put rhythm in his art of tongues
inspired by fruits from my garden, mine own words
the Orator in action, was he infringing my copyright?
As words, our heritage orally passed down in poetry,
set imageries prohibiting meddling with sources,
set quotations where time absolved breaches of patent,
plagiarism, for traditions dictated that the word be
secured in a cocoon of oratory ferried down the ages
by the dynamics of cultural rites and rituals.
the Orator, blessed not only as the spiritual Vessel
...but now deemed as the Spoken Word incarnate.
HAUNT
Phantom
Poltergeist
in the darkened room
cold hands pushed me from bed
the ghost made her presence known
“Things do go bump in the dark night”
9-13-2020
Pyramids Poetry Contest
Joseph May sponsor
The Clarity Pyramid is a poetry form designed and constructed by Jerry P. Quinn.
A Clarity Pyramid is a poem consisting of two triplets and a single line (7 lines in all). Usually, this poem is center aligned when displayed.
The first triplet has 1, 2, and 3 syllables. The title of the poem is the one-syllable word of the first triplet, which is displayed in all capital letters. This line is followed by a two-syllable line, and then a three-syllable line, both of which clarify the definition of the poem, or are synonyms for the title.
The second triplet has 5, 6, and 7 syllables. Its design is based around a life event or memory contained within the triplet which helps give a poetic view or outlook on the first line (title).
The last line is 8 syllables, and is in quotations as this line contains a quote that defines the first word, which is your Title.
"Time Heals All Wounds"
Time Heals All Wounds - An English Proverb
Created in Published Books for Adult & Children Versions
by M.M. Master Poly Crown. Authoress
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
love invades enchantingly to capture a heart's emotion
revealing passionate masquerade in treacherous disguise
a treasure chest of broken dreams now cast into deep ocean
soon sensitive feelings shrivel into wallowing ash surprise.
scars carved within a trusting soul escapes to shedding tears
a sheep in wolf's clothing left signature of indelible mark
haunting memories abide as romantic whims submit to fears
flying beyond golden Moon to extinguish lovers spark.
an ancient adage of English Proverb soothes a fading dream
for Time Heals All Wounds eventually as Life evolves
yet hurt and pain insist to linger clouding future schemes
forgive the one who wronged you for love believes absolve.
*For Frank Herrera's Notable Quotations Contest.
I've have never
experienced that bubbly love
that everyone apparently has...
Stolen kisses,
"say cheese" camera flash,
"no you hang up first" phone
calls...
"I can't stop thinking about
you" text messages.
My love has been horrendous
and terrifying and painful...
I have experienced...
"please stop hurting me"
"I'm sorry, I'll make it better"
"I'll try harder just don't leave"
"please stop insulting me"
So while everyone around me,
receives their texts, silently I
wish I were them,
I cry with invisible tears,
Inaudible Screams
And fake smiles...in public of
course
"I don't know how love could do
this to me"
Anthem of my pitiful life...
I'm in bewilderment that my
tear ducts are still fully
functioning...
More crying to go perhaps?
I was a firm believer in that
miracle creating love..
Avid dreamer and practitioner
of that
"I'll never let go jack"
"no its not gonna be easy, its
gonna be really hard, but I
want you"
"none shall perish, none shall
die"
"ever thine,ever mine,ever
ours"
But as the faiths would have it,
my love never reciprocated
these quotations.
And after all the sleepless
nights, and..
" Kentrell, don't throw up your
food"
" To cut or not to cut" -( refrain
of the century)
"She's not gonna call, give up,
move on"
I have faced the bitter fact...
That for some cruel, lesson
seeking reason,
I was destined for this,
That the one person that I
loved more than reading,
Would be the one person to
bless me with such
unforgettable hurt.
So for now my refrain is "You
and I once we were lovers"
bless you Luther Vandross..
Till that almost perfect knight in
shining armor,
completes my refrain,
Ever thine, ever mine, ever
ours..
There's a poet named...Eileen
Who's sweet but sure can get mean
So don’t cross her path
Or you’ll taste her wrath
Just tell her, “You are...the QUEEN!”
She tries so hard all to please
You'll get her if you just tease
She is dynamite
Can set you “alight”
She might...your trigger just squeeze!!
She loves a good cuddle too
Loving, she is, through and through
She’s loyal and kind
Though out of her mind
She longs to be friends with you
She loves to write and to bake
Belly dance, jiggle and shake
She's proud of her hair
A proud MAMA BEAR
P Soup just keeps her awake
She can't keep feelings at bay
What she thinks, that's what she'll say
A storm is quite mild
to this tantrum child
Her passion can win the day
Romance is what she's about
Quotations...she likes to spout
Steeped in yesteryear
Where knights are so dear
And true love leaves none in doubt
So try to see her good side
In friends she does take great pride
She’ll give love to you
Make you feel brand new
So take her madness in stride!
For Reginna's Bio Contest
Re-edited March 19, 2014
Forsaken Love
Dear lover, why hast thou forsaken me
my miserable life now cut in shreds
If only thee had instead set me free
love, no longer sharing our silkened beds
To what ending hath thou denied my love
with darkness cast into our sadden souls
Once our future sailed on so far above
any lost, mundane and unworthy goals
There were eternal sparkles in your eyes
touching that declareth our loving so true
Now blackness clouds into our lost skies
crying, my heart breaks into missing you!
How sad! That you dwelleth within the dark
Letting deceit erase our loving spark.
Robert J. Lindley, 11-15-2015
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 100
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(1.)hast
hast/
archaic second person singular present of have.
(2)hath
hath/
archaic third person singular present of have.
(3)thou
thou/
You may have been told that "thou" and "thee" were for familiar use, and "you" and "ye" were
formal. This was not true originally, but it was true for about two centuries, roughly 1450-1650,
including Shakespeare's time. The previously plural "you" was used in the singular to signify
politeness and respect, which left "thou" and "thee" for all the other singular uses, ranging
from endearing intimacy to bitter rudeness. Eventually, the politer "you" drove out nearly all
uses of "thee" and "thou"; they survived mostly in poetry and religion.
(4)dwelleth - Wiktionary
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/dwelleth
dwelleth. (archaic) third-person singular simple present indicative form of dwell [quotations ?].
1611, Bible (Authorized, or King James, Version), Romans 8:11:.
(5)Declareth dictionary definition | declareth defined
www.yourdictionary.com/declareth
yourDictionary.com
Verb. (archaic) Third-person singular present simple form of declare. Origin. declare + -eth.
English Wiktionary. Available under CC-BY-SA license
I crashed into a language barrier
So they put me in an induced comma
As they re-calibrated my damaged grammar
Transforming my full stop into a full start
As I wake from my abbreviation
I feel tense in the present
Realising that an apostrophe is now all
and nothing more I will ever be
I have a kindled yearning to compound
my spoken words with good intention
But I’ve become a symbol
that marks a past behaviour into memory
I stand in place of the person
whose ending is, with my start, synonymous
A person with their own tale
which I can read but can’t understand
It’s my story, but a rougher drafted version
Reading it I feel anonymous
Is this where I’m killed off but my character returns?
I find asylum asking questions, with an ampersand
And…
…The blurb on the back of life gives me the shorthand:
This is the punctuation that brings order
In the arc of your lived life
And if you see problems with recalled quotations
Then choose to learn, or live with strife
And…
I’m not ready to die
So here I am
Prepared with notation
The things I’ve seen and learned combined
Swapping the chip on my shoulder
For an indentation
And…
Don’t ever put down the pen while you’re still writing your history
And…
http://samnicholasharrison.tumblr.com
They said, "his bark is much worse than his bite"
So, I opened the gate, without fright
But the beast would outwit me !
In the keister, he bit me!!
He will feast on my trousers tonight !
.................................
5/4/15 For John Freeman's Contest : Dumb and Dumber Quotations
(Never trust someone who says "his bark is much worse than his bite".... !! LOL !)
'Twas like imagery or perhaps deja'vu
air quotations or a hallucination,
naught tangible to the naked eye
but an echoing of whirlwinds,
mere beginning of an expansion
tucked aside noncommittal whispers
reverberating discorporate shadows
on dividers of processing graphics,
rough drafts' emphatic intimation
of intrusively summoned reckonings
referencing old featured impressions,
mid-escape concentrated faculties'
unfocused low-density frequencies,
betwixt susceptibility’s magnifiers
orbiting bout night-crawlers' psyche,
whilst darkly territorial distractions
evolve beyond unforeseen influences,
farthermost assertion's revisionary
assemblages divulging conceals,
structured within framework
unrelentingly penetrative,
drawn-out, long agone
an unreceptive peccadillo
Does your imagination run deeper than the ocean floor?
In ecstatic feeling, pirouetting into the sublime
No ultraviolet rays, fly freely through the core
On a herculean task, hands on their creative chime
It governs everything, control it if you can
In ecstatic feeling, pirouetting into the sublime.
It encircles the world, gem endowed to every human
A journey over the horizon, utilize it well
It governs everything, control it if you can
When a canvas is filled with your moods that dwell
Stories glint, flamboyant colors on the air
A journey over the horizon, utilize it well.
Peripheral to all skills, synchronizes bodies in flair
Runs deeper than the ocean floor or higher than those stars
Stories glint, flamboyant colors on the air
When does your imagination work in time?
On a herculean task, hands on their creative chime
A journey over the horizon, utilize it well
When a canvas is filled with your moods that dwell
Free fantasy
For you and for me
Is it utilized well?
Note:
This poem is composed with the inspiration of one of my most favorite quotations: "Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world."
Written: Dec. 28,2012
– Holy Innocents Day
Third Place
Contest: Terzanelle Fantasy with a Questionku Chaser
Judged: 1/11/2013
Sponsor: Poet Richard Lamoureux
First Place
Contest: My Best Poem of the Year 2012
Judged: 3/21/14
Sponsor: Poet Dr. Ram Mehta
The premise behind this poem, What does cloud 9 mean?
A state of bliss, elation or happiness
cloud nine (uncountable) (idiomatic) Often in the phrase on cloud nine: a state of bliss, elation or happiness. quotations ? He was on cloud nine for days after she agreed to marry him.
I wonder whats on cloud nine
I wonder what its like up on cloud nine,
Would the weather up there be fine,
Would the storm in my head clear,
Would it free me of all my anxiety and fear,
I wonder what it would be like up on cloud nine,
Would it just cross over country borderlines,
Or would it take me up into the sky,
Would it take me to a city in clouds up high
A city ive only ever imagine in your minds eye,
A place of peace a place where life is beautified
That's free of impurities and the evils of our world,
A place I could only dream of, I guess it is a Dreamworld,
Oh how I wonder what it would be like on cloud nine
Would the weather up there be fine,
Would the storm in my head clear,
Would it free me of all my anxiety and fear,
A period here. a question mark there?
A handful of commas,,,tossed in the air
To fall all willy-nilly but he doesn't care.
Then he closes his eyes so he never sees,
And does it again with apostrophe's.
Next colons: and semis; are put through their paces,
And are frequently found in the oddest of places.
Quotations are more than just dressing or stuffing,
Yet often appear when "nobody said nuffing".
It makes reading a chore just to try to adhere
To a writer's directions of what to do where,
But you barrel on through 'til you get to the end,
Give your eyes time to uncross,
And then try it again.
Some poets abjure punctuation, for sure,
And though not a big fan,
I'm a reasonable man.
e e cummings, for example,
Responds to the call
By using little or no punctuation at all.
Author's note: To quote the author Cormac McCarthy: "If you write properly you shouldn't have to punctuate." Poets such as e e cummings, et al, apparently took him up on that. Please understand, dear reader, that this piece is punctuated incorrectly to make a point. And I blush to admit that I, myself, am overly fond of "quotation marks" and…ellipses.
Dedicated to Willie Nelson
His eyes reflect the wisdom of eighty-one years
The gentleness of his words can bring me to tears
Though he tries to conceal it, his eyes reveal pain
Red lines emerge from “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain”
Emotive eyes from a thin man with braided hair
Not handsome, but his eyes made love to ladies fair
Just to leave “Angels Flying Too Close to the Ground”
He shed tears, kissed them, and left with a heart unbound
“Always on My Mind” are the windows to his soul
Just like his eyes, Willie’s music seeks to console
Tenderness still shines in the “Midnight Rider’s” gaze
“Living in the Promised Land,” this is where he stays
Weathered eyes speak of lean years without compromise
His music will live on, long after Willie dies
*Written September 3, 2014 for Mystic Rose’s contest
(Words in quotations are songs written by Willie Nelson.)