Best Recapture Poems
~Dare We~
Side by side in the full moonlight, looking up in wonder
Shoulders rubbing, breaths, mingling hands begin to wander
Daringly we looked together, would we really dare…
No one about we can try, there seem no eyes to stare.
Hand in hand we start to hide away from the moonlit sky
We really want to do this, but we are feeling rather shy
Should we in this moonlight, try to recapture our youth?
He takes his shoes and socks off, I am excited now in truth…
His pants come down, I kook aghast, “they cost a lot” I heard him say.
My shoes and jacket I remove, deciding it's time to play
He takes me by the hand; our bodies mingle and turn together
We feel so young this moonlit night with outstanding weather.
His legs shine white, silhouetted against the moonlit sky
Now is the time, there's no one here, I am not letting this pass me by
Up and down, slowly, carefully, his body looks so lean
I can’t believe we are sneaking a go on
our neighbour’s new trampoline...
© 5/08/2012 ~GG~
The balmy breeze wafted over the prairie,
Where yellow cowslips huddled in patches.
And here and there I heard a whisper echoing:
Love her, love her, love her.
But she seemed deaf and preferred the wounded wind.
How easy it was to forget and never recapture
All my wistful whisper, I would always love you.
Those sweet nothings of past affections.
We no longer trudged the path made up for two.
Forgotten were those bygone days
When we believed that thistledown tufts
Were really friendly fairies in disguise.
Thus she escaped my clutches
And like a unicorn disappearing in an eclipse,
I headed for a dull and empty living
Blaming her uselessly for I still loved her.
Weren't we the product of our time?
We slammed the doors of love in our own faces,
Building woeful walls around us
Painting it with a tinge of misunderstanding,
When we could lead such a colorful life,
Giving our hearts a chance,
Laughing at ourselves.....
And sending a whisper,
a woeful whisper to the moon above.
Placed First
I see that acacia tree
and I get vacuumed back to the past.
When we both had
a different type of light in our eyes,
with the reflections of that clear brook
evident in our irises,
where we thought that the
sun only revolved around us, and us alone.
We thought we knew better,
or did we?
Did we truly know anything at all?
My heart gurgles a bit,
as it chokes, bleeding on memories...
I am beside myself,
and I look so stupid,
hugging that tree,
a lifeline to what was.
I envy that tree, for its sturdiness,
its roots being so deep-seated,
so much unlike us,
easily broken, swayed, uprooted.
I loathe that tree,
for it still blooms,
blushing with its bright pink flowers
so delicate-looking and beautiful.
So unlike myself.
I feel ugly now. I actually am.
With hate and guilt eating at me from my core,
how could I not be?
I am rotten.
I am corroded.
From the looks of it,
I seem to have drunk from that
brook (now polluted), ingesting the trash
strewn there
I just never knew how much filth there was.
I am not infallible.
I thought you were.
But I was wrong. Dead wrong.
You tried to pull me up, but
became too heavy for you...
I dragged you down with me,
so deep, too deeply
that I had to bury you.
Along with my heart and soul,
which have both turned into stone.
I am stoned.
Yes, I feel so heavy,
so heavy I wish someone
would bury me,
throw me in the sea
so I could sink to the bottom and be forgotten.
Or better yet,
is there a magic pill
being sold somewhere
that can make me go back—
Start all over
and do things over?
What I would give
to recapture that light,
to have you back
but I know it is too late.
You’ve gone already.
Left me...
Or so I thought.
I always had the tendency to be wrong,
and it had never felt so great.
I turn around
and a different kind of light
kindles my I(rise)s.
Like that acacia,
I bloom again.
Speak not to me of love, I cannot bear to hear
The fervent pleas you stoop to whisper in my ear
Speak not to me proclaiming staunch fidelity
Or how you will adore me through eternity
Speak not of how your love is stronger now by far
Than what it was before, so I must lift the bar
Speak not in vows regarding purity
Of how you swear to worship me, and only me
I've heard confessions of this sort quite oft before,
No proof are they of love, I'll show you now the door
My heart has bled enough, I want the pain to end
Our love has run its course, why must I now pretend
While you were loving her, he started loving me
My broken heart he healed and showed me ecstasy
The shroud of pain you gave, he turned to joyous gown
My head with kisses wreathed and gifted me a crown
His ravished all the places unbeknownst to you
Each fantasy he played, each dream he made come true
His tongue, it sweetly roamed to each delicious place
Our bodies fused in rhythm, lost to time and place
Speak not of sad regrets and turning back in time
Of seeking to recapture love that was sublime
Each night he speaks to me in passion's lovely rhyme
With heart and soul I speak and tell him he is mine!
For Georgio V's Iambic III Contest
This is written in Iambic hexameter
October 6, 2014
Eileen Manassian
The human spirit needs places where
nature has not been rearranged
by the hand of man
Author Unknown
A metal rail now mocks the space
where a massive trunk once rose two hundred feet,
and a long stairway, and a sign,and a doorway
make up ‘The Stump Hotel.’
As a roadside attraction this once magnificent tree
is more suggestive of an amputee
whose prosthesis
could never recapture the living limb or,
a whisper of the spark within.
Think -of the many who came and stood,
here on this altered stump.
Did anyone look up to see its phantom trunk
rising to the moon?
101 in a ROW contest - 12
Contest Judged: 9/8/2016 10:36:00 AM
Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A
8th Place
Published in “ PS, It’s Poetry” Anthology available on Amazon.
Trying to recapture the joy of those winter days is difficult. School cancelled: sun shining through the sheer, white, curtains into an all too girlie room, the sound of a tea kettle's whistle, the ice cold feeling of oak boards on bare feet, between scatter rugs; I ran to the kitchen. The transistor radio sounded, still calling out school closings. The snow sifted down.
bright sun
sparkles on snowflakes –
the plow roars
Quick phone calls, punctuated with giggles, roused a gaggle of neighborhood girls. White skates in hand, I burst out the door. I rushed toward the swampy area behind the neighbor’s house. My rubber boots crunching crust above the powdery fluff. At the edge of the watery wood, I stood staring. Boys, I see the boys in there. They have their skates on already. Tommy Maloney, my crush, skated toward me.
his black waves
dusted with snow –
whoops of delight
A hummock of snow-topped grass served as a seat. I removed my boots from beneath the zip sides of snow pants and try to tie laces new white skates. Once done I stood wobbling, weak-ankled. Tommy laughs, as knock-kneed I attempt a glide toward him falling on my butt. Oh how his eyes sparkled, an Irish rogue at twelve. Kneeling, Tommy began to re-lace my skates. I remember wishing, so much, he would kiss me.
First Contemporary haibun online Fall 2013
Published in Winter Legends 2014
dreams tucked in my pocket as I journey through life
sometimes swept away by chilling breezes
but reach for them again, I will
recapture them
they’ve taken me this far
like a compass, they give me direction
lost I’d be without my dreams
pointlessly going through the motions
lifelong companions
dreams I will carry until my last day
*Entry for Leighann Anderson's "Free for All" contest.
Who said the sun rises in the East?
That's not true in the very least....
The Sun rises and sets in the West
Where does dwell the very best...
My Yum Yum girl
Sweeter than molasses
Shining and brightening my way
Oh, I do bless
The very day
I set my eyes on my Yum Yum Girl
My heart has ever since
Been aswirl...
For my Yum Yum Girl
Tasty love beyond belief
Oh, what a relief...
To recapture
My Yum Yum Girl
My Yum Yum Girl
A smile that beams
Golden hair that gleams
How I love the laugh
Of my Yum Yum Girl
My Yum Yum Girl
Oh, my, oh my,
My Yum Yum Girl.
My Yum Yum Girl.
These are written as song lyrics.
Next the music.
Your T
Once I dared render
A trapping of quintessence
To hold fast all that is you
Somewhere upon my canvas
To capture your beauty
In pastels of feigned adoration
From charcoaled scratched eyes
Slowly her face takes form
Searching yesterdays colours
To recapture the essence of your voice
Now merely a passionate facsimile
Obtusely rendered in penciled arrogance
My sketching comes from experience
Tracings of agony felled of your eyes
From the easels edge drips my anguish
Now a morass union of passivity
How I long to feel the heat of your fiery spirit…
You gave me a magic walk in the rain
Those beautiful sunsets time and again
You gave me glimpses of your beautiful mind
Love that is gentle, tender, and kind.
The rainbow, the blossoms, sweet scented flowers
You gave me many sweetly passing hours.
Those enchantingly sweet, nostalgic nights
Ensconced in our world of sweet delights.
You gave me those memorable, delightful days
Showed me you care, in a thousand ways.
Lovely moments of divine bliss and rapture
Time's golden hours we can't recapture.
You left me heartbroken, in tears and in pain
I tried to forget, to move on but all in vain
Your goodbye so abrupt, so final, so brief
While I recall our past and pine away in grief.
A Palace of Aloneness.
This palace of aloneness is not my home.
It's bricks know only the time of run-off bygones.
Transition past it's thousand entrances
Impaired with creeping ivy
Into it's stately communion hall
For the dead and the living you'll end up.
Look out it's eyes towards blurred views
Draped in so longs never to be clearly revealed.
Gawk at it's floor to ceiling shelves infinitely crowded
With ô so decidedly swollen hearts
Captive inside tightly sealed jars.
To dust them is not my task.
Here, cabinets are filled with illogical medicines
For conditions without extensional cures.
A repository for good and bad intentions.
You'll know as soon as you feel it
That you are there.
I'll take no residence in this palace
On the dark side of it's interference.
Secure no long or short term stay in it.
This settlement has no neighbors
To cheerily comfort with a smile.
No happiness locker, no blowing kisses.
No escape if you accept lodging here.
Move on, let weighty doors close before you
That have no real escape.
About-face before it's dark shadow becomes you.
Recapture only evidence that matters.
There is no recouping backwards.
Offer up your redress to tomorrow today.
Flee past this palace of forlornness.
Avoid it's thorns upon your ankles.
Clutch your heart from head to toe.
Keep your future safe to ascent again.
Stay out and away look up to heavens above
Even now they are clouded with silver linings.
Words can paint colors no artist hand can draw.
Express such emotions which fill others with awe.
Describe a scene so vividly that one can see it all.
And recapture memories that years cannot recall
ADVENT OF SPRING
It was as though a sign had been received.
The master plan, held back, now caused enaction
As if nature’s endocrines had been released
Flooding our world with catalytic action
Pre-dawn the Song Thrush first perceived the moment
Her triple prelude showed she could recapture
(As day broke, light in a softer glow bestowment)
Her symphony of blissful, careless rapture
On this cosmic stage light rose imparting sheen
And sun lent equinoctial warmth to nourish
The hedgerows that had barely hinted green
Were now transformed to full fresh verdant flourish
In trees the sap is surging in ascension
A delicate jade mist now veils the canopy
Across the land life wakes in each dimension
Sweet Spring is clothing Nature in her full panoply
Started drinking fruit flavoured water now
Not the tastiest but I'll keep trying, I vow
In the winter months I always seem to gain
Inactivity is the culprit, exercising's a pain
When I walk, it's much more like a waddle
Sure don't resemble a Givenchy model
Gonna keep on trying to recapture my youth
Downed another swig of gin and vermouth
Now everything appears to be quite copacetic
Gin works wonders as an anesthetic
So getting back to the fruit flavoured water
A lot more concerned than this guy oughta
I'm almost eighty-eight so why should I care
Soon I'll be trapped in my big easy chair
Wifey will feed me some ground up mush
Dentures down the toilet gets flushed
But there's a silver lining waiting for me
If I could only get rid of my gimpy old knee
Bottom line is this, sure had a great life
Came up a big winner by a roll of the dice
ADVENT OF SPRING
It was as though a sign had been received.
The master plan, held back, now causing stirring
As if nature’s endocrines had been released
Flooding all the world with catalytic spurring
Pre-dawn the Song Thrush first perceived the moment
Her triple prelude showed she could recapture
(As day broke, light in softer glow bestowment)
Her first symphony of blissful, careless rapture
On this cosmic stage light rose imparting sheen
And sun lent equinoctial warmth to nourish
The hedgerows that had barely hinted green
Were now transformed to full fresh verdant flourish
A delicate jade mist veils sylvan canopy
Sweet Spring is clothing Nature in full panoply