Best Reaming Poems
Dreaming beneath sparkling skies,
adorned with ice-blue sapphires.
Yearning for an evergreen Eden~
saturated with tender celestial light,
tailored with faith, erasing deceit,
as the rose moon unfurls wisteria warmth,
reviving wilted lilies with perfumed prose.
Categories:
reaming, devotion,
Form:
Acrostic
Another morning filled with sun
Beckons the mind to open where,
Clearing the cobwebs has begun,
Dreaming so many words to share.
Enjoy my tea and my muffins
For this is when I’m most at peace
Grab pen and paper, fun begins
Hoping a new poem will release.
Imbedded in my mind are words,
Just wish I could remember some!
Knocking around, but never heard
Laugh it off, someday they will come.
Many thoughts appear thru the night
Never found with the morning light!
Categories:
reaming, funny, poetry,
Form:
ABC
a scandalous secret gnaws
at the epicenter of my being
threatening to unearth
score pillars of dirt
upon which my world is built
gilded in reverence,
vaingloriously lauded
and parlayed to ascend sacred rungs
beyond the license of minions,
the legend grows
and grows
and grows
and though I know
my storied steeple,
as all things crooked,
will surely crumble someday,
I pray that it shall stay
erect
an irreverent crown;
a reaming tower of pisa
steeped in piety,
the envy of my faithful throng
preserved
to shatter the innocence of your delicate young…
~ Pablo
Categories:
reaming, political, satire
Form:
Free verse
"L o v e lives
in the archaic abyss of an
endless ocean, where wind and waves
rhyme with the blues in scented stillness"
As echoes of the silent shore reveal secrets~
buried in the deep-blue spine of the
creased, cold sea, I search for lyrical cues,
dreaming on the lurid lips of a salt-kissed
enigma, painted with bliss-strokes of sunset eyes.
For sometimes, when time tricks euphoric twilight with
greed, amidst the quiescence that hydrates this
healing soul, I find myself drifting to a mythical valley of
iridescent violets, floating like glistening
jewels seized from the warm arms of skylines. As,
kismet stars sprinkle golden tears upon pages that
left me comfortably rhymeless, breathing in
metaphors of memories lost in frozen mists,
nestling within hushed songs of the mourning bluebirds…
O beloved moon, swirl with me to a rosier phase~
perfumed with Aphrodite’s elegance,
quenched with spring allure of Ades’ petals;
reverie of timeless rivers
streaming with heartbeats of twin flames,
tied to an amethyst ambience,
unraveling a cosmic connection
veiled in vanilla orchids…and
when the music of the ocean ricochets into
xylophone chimes and nostalgic notes,
you’ll remember me as your ballad, forever sealed in,
zestful conch shells, until the sun no longer tastes my poetic pulse…
Categories:
reaming, love, romance,
Form:
Abecedarian
(C)alling out for his mate
(A)lone in the misty morning
(R)ed wings flap with desire
(D)reaming of love at sunrise
(I)gniting a flame in his heart
(N)ow the blissful day begins
(A)ll the clouds above, drift by
(L)ove falls like rain; she arrives
Heidi Sands
7/10/25
(C)opyright
Categories:
reaming, bird, love,
Form:
Acrostic
Can anything be more beautiful than the sound of
happy children?
Innocent of wars;
loving with open hearts.
Dreaming of grandeur;
renduring the madness of the world irrelevant.
Enjoying the simplest of things;
not consumed by profits.
Let us have the hearts of children.
All for one and one for all.
Uninhibited and free spirited;
guided by the goodness of our inner selves.
Having courage to believe anything possible;
incapacitating negativity.
No more beautiful sound in the world than
giggles of innocence.
Categories:
reaming, beautiful, children, innocence,
Form:
Acrostic
Acrostic - William Patrick Darnell Sr
Willingly loving people as God would do;
Intelligent funny, wittily making you chuckle til blue
Listening with his heart so others can speak their words
Learning what he must, trying not to make a mistake
Ideally, he wouldn't live as he has it was his to make
Aiming toward his stars for some solitude at a sway
Minding his own business, walking down this lonely road.
Paying it forward, for there's no greed to his soul;
Always praying for others and their needs as it foretold
Tries to do what's right when this world is losing its way
Reaching out for a conversation with some play
Ignoring politicians as they do America wrong
Chooses to see and take people for who they are
Kind, mindful, and thoughtful because that's just who he is.
D-reaming dreams, he longs for the life he once lived;
Asking God to Bless his people, always as I pray to Him
Real as he can get, yearning for his late wife, she REST
Nothing fake about him, ask God, through your hearts
Element of surprise is his wisest decision made
Loving himself finally, he hasn't done it for a long time
Learning as he's chosen, with Christ Jesus, by his side.
So it's time I find an end to a good old country song,
Respecting others and living out my days.
Categories:
reaming, blessing, cancer, character, confidence,
Form:
Acrostic
I fell asleep in my chair
I awoke and a room full of smiling women
Looked at me
With Death’s Stare
I asked myself
Am I dreaming?
What are these women scheming?
I fear my mind these women soon will be reaming
What made me dream this way?
My boss yelled at me today
Too much work stress
My brain abscess
Heart and soul in distress
I heard on TV there are more men than women
Women dying and killed in record numbers
Female Final Slumber
Male Violence
Men creating
Female Silence
I looked back at the Cabal of Ladies
I fear I have a room at
The Hotel Hades
Their smiles gone
The room suddenly burst into flames
The women screamed out in pain
Their anguished cries driving me insane
I fell to my knees
I begged them for a Quick Death
They said after I listen to how they all died
Maybe then I could take my last breath
One was stoned
One was beheaded
One was strangled
One was burnt alive
One was led to a cliff and forced to dive
She did not survive
There is no Honor in killing
All the women committed the same sin
Wanting to be free
Male driven Female Genocide for centuries
Still going on
Way too long
All the men swore to love and protect these women
Fathers, Husbands, Brothers, Sons, Friends and Lovers all lied
Allah Cried
Love Denied
Evil dark music filled the room
Flames Rising
Tribal Trance Treat
Tantric Drum Beat
The women danced
I was entranced
Satan and Jesus
Came in the room
They approached the women
And both told The Flock they are
The One
Follow me to Eternal Fun
All the women laughed and turned away
From their Saviour
These women no longer crave
Male Behaviour
Then out of the Flames
I was approached by
The Head Dame
My Dead Mother aflame
Smoldering in front of me
My Beloved Mother said to me
Son you don’t have much time
It’s true you never committed female crime
You never got out of line
Why don’t you write a rhyme
Tell all men of future women yet to come
They need to be free
And will not be Men’s Property
These unborn women will demand to experience life
Free from Male Strife
And be warned
If Male Violence continues against women
And Men refuse to change
Then one day all the women will be gone
They will refuse to be born
Men will no longer be turned on
This will signal
Man’s Final Dawn
Categories:
reaming, silence,
Form:
Epic
Poetry Day #1: Acrostic
Rainy Day Dreams
Rat-a-tat-tat, the rain pours down again,
All of the land is soaked with the heaven’s tears.
Inducing sadness, yes, but bringing life,
Now that the world can be refreshed once more.
Yet, why must I feel like this rain is drowning me?
Dreaming about the sun, the wind, even the clouds,
Anything that will take away this sorrowful feelings.
Yet the rain still continues to fall down.
Day breaks once more, and I continue to watch the sky.
Red, yellow, orange, pink, and the white clouds float.
Endings are bittersweet, aren’t they?
Although sadness will always be in my heart,
My smile will rise above the pouring rain like the sun,
So I’ll continue to dream until the rain stops once more.
Categories:
reaming, beauty, blue, day, dream,
Form:
Acrostic
purple haze surrounds
lavandula sky dreaming …
playing hendrix tunes
lavandula...(common name lavender)
is a genus of 47 known species of
flowering plants in the mint family
july.11.2019
haiku-hue
sponsored by: kim rodrigues
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
Categories:
reaming, drug, flower, purple,
Form:
Haiku
JIGGING - REELING
Friday, got that wild anticipated, weekend feeling.
Respite, two days of fun, jigging, reeling.
Ireland, weekend free, looking at the cealing!
Dreaming, still Friday, concealing, appealing,
a weekend with no stock and share dealing.
Yes, Friday a faint memory, on stage, jigging reeling!
#Friday #feeling - #Poetry Contest, sponsored by Silent One
Categories:
reaming, dance, dream, feelings,
Form:
Acrostic
Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town
Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town
In my little town
“My Little Town” by Paul Simon
My Town
I walk the streets of my hometown,
the prodigal son returned for a visit.
I wanted to see the old place after
forty years away.
My first stop is the place where
the death spiral began.
The old brick building that housed
Johnson’s lingerie factory long abandoned.
Countless generations had worked there
and jobs were plentiful and easy to get..
But government regulations, outrageous union
demands and cheaper labor overseas
caused its demise.
I walked up Main Street, which was a
bustling market place when I was a child.
Now, all that remained were CBD joints
and tattoo parlors and a coffee shop.
First the pharmacy closed, then
Mason’s Department store, followed
in quick succession by a host of
other long-time establishments
as the locals began the exodus
to a new land of milk and honey.
The few reaming locals looked
like ghosts wandering in a lost world.
I’m ready to move on as there is
nothing left but the dead and dying
back in my little town.
Categories:
reaming, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse
You’d like to tell them,
those middle management flunky
shove it up your ass, &
maybe you should’ve
told them!
But then you remembered
Kline.
He told them, just that!
More balls then brains.
They crucified him,
like Christ
but,
he never did come back
after three days…….
Categories:
reaming, work,
Form:
Free verse
(Patterned off the famous folk song 'Men of Harlech,' which is in the public domain.)
Men of freedom hear them wailing,
from the truth they’re always quailing,
scared of work or real travailing,
not like free-born men.
Men of freedom stop their screaming,
and their socialistic dreaming,
give them all a much-earned reaming,
all those wokish men.
Slavish souls disgusting,
cultish minds untrusting,
silencing all who dare speak true,
because inside they’re nothing.
Men of freedom don’t surrender,
these fools are brainless pretenders,
cannot tell a him from a her,
not like free-born men.
Men of freedom must hold steady,
keep your A.R.s clean and ready,
when time comes make your aim deadly,
fight like free-born men.
Take your boot and on them impress,
recall sic semper tyrannus,
tyrant scum will all be banished
faced with free-born men.
The ‘elites’ insulting,
they’re pedos revolting!
Living in an endless fear
of free-born men assaulting!
Men of freedom give no quarter
to those who would give us horror,
save your land for sons and daughters,
fight on free-born men.
Categories:
reaming, america, freedom, men, patriotic,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: June 1st 2024, For Unseeking Seeker Contest
"here I am in human form
but it was not always quite so
earth is not the only planet I’ve been to
through past life regressions I definitely know"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In ethereal glow of our final seconds on Earth.
Within a span, souls enisling in an isthmus berth.
As metamorphosed bees, clad in airy wings, soar
Ebbing to a cosmic abode of glow, for ego lore.
Embrace bequeath in gestalt of Earth shell.
Or is life devoid of anguish and pain in hell?
Will we be protean for reincarnation with blood?
Shifting, fully booming, owing to anodyne stud.
We shall soon reminisce days on remote sand.
Ethereal pathways that follow a celestial hand.
Eyeing raw cosmic shape sycophant eternity.
Then clung to destiny with my slight dexterity.
Our exhausted organism is narcissism-driven.
Dichotomy may dim soul light if delight is given
Mixed rhythms create an authentic, airy shape.
Pride divides, but love beats through crape.
A human-shaped crow stands against me.
After a lull, I realize how other crows may be.
It can evolve into nefarious aviator at a whim.
Either he goes by moon or sun—could be grim.
He flies across treetops as various ravens bow.
Bald winged—swear to the lord's fealty vow.
To fulfill their duty and honor shifting souls.
Embrace him openly, regardless of goals.
Some may imagine me as an angel today.
A mercurial creature with a noble display,
Mythical beings travel to Earth and arrange.
But tomorrow—I can freely delve to estrange.
Enigma is amaroidal for loving or valuing a voice.
Mysterious to the esoteric—familiar by choice,
I may ply suction forms reaming joy or sadness.
In my cryptic tactics—no space for gladness
Nearly recalling draws me in—lures me away.
But those are tears of a child, pure, in disarray.
A juvenile devil is invading my cerebral cortex.
Despite optimum strain, I may become a vortex.
Categories:
reaming, angel, death, life,
Form:
Rhyme