Best Recount Poems
Tell me a tale of humanity
Paint me the love of your life
Show me a path to humility
How a man should honour his wife.
Help children believe in magicness
Describe the warmth of a smile
Feelings invoked by happiness
A tree that’s been watching a while.
Explain the pain of solitude
Gift me the smell of a flower
Tease me with dreams of magnitude
Sights that are seen from a tower.
Convey the sound that a river makes
Define your fear of the dark
Textures and tastes of a freshly cut steak
A walk with your child in the park.
Interpret the touch that a lover leaves
Recount the flaws of your youth
Depict a man with his heart on his sleeve
Confront and search out the truth.
Weave me a yarn with your poetry
Spin me with poetic release
Take me away with ingenuity
Fill my mind and my soul with your peace.
Categories:
recount, imagination, poems, poetry, words,
Form:
Rhyme
Where to turn, oh friend I ask
I chose to turn to you,
if you'd be so kind.
Though I try hard to describe the beauty
heard by deaf ears, fall so short..
seen from eyes so blind.
Invited by a melody from the stars,
a concert of music makers enthralled-
Their numbers standing before me
cast down to Earth for you and I,
swath of angelic voices recalled.
Whether human beings or beings from a higher plain
I won't hazard a guess, nor confess, nor grasp..
yet still I ask.
Oh, but..
if you were there,
if only in this life., a trace.
heard from these ears
heart lightened in my chest
tears streaming down my face.
If you still don't understand, I understand
if you're troubled, please try to see
I'm trying in vain, so you must
imagine emotions evoked in music
a limited engagement, mimicked..
by a lone toad from a swamp.
It's me.
Even now try to recount the magic in moments..
turn away, not from beauty nor music, but strife..
hold onto a miracle, a million miraculous moments
in eve of evening..
in life.
Categories:
recount, eve, life, music,
Form:
Verse
Sometimes late at night as we succumb to sleep
We greet creative thoughts beyond those of counting sheep
It’s said Thomas Edison held coins in his hands
That clanged into a bucket noisily as planned
Stirring, he was intrigued by notions for invention
That seemed to emerge from a different dimension
It worked for him and if you enter an alpha state
You, too, may find this source of inspiration great
For it is this exercise of the mind unwinding
That serves to recount the day, subtle reminding
Of the joy you found when beholding a flower
And the thrill of discovering nature’s power
Or the touch of a hand from one who reaches out
When a vulnerable heart is mired in doubt
And the scent of loved ones’ perfume on a pillow
That permits our longing memories to billow
The sounds and tastes of each long day also emerge
As slumber takes charge and begins its nightly purge
So keep a pen and pad at bedside as you retire
Knowing that inspiration is likely to spire
Categories:
recount, on writing and wordslonging,
Form:
Couplet
Sacred Dwellers
I am of Native American born
To be caretaker of Mother Earth sworn
I heal with powers, a medicine man
Tribal’s wise supernatural shaman
I am a sacred carved out Totem Pole
To recount familiar legends, a toll
Insightful spirit animals pride in
Taking a part as a loved guardian
I’m the buffalo hunted to survive
Tipis, meat, fur, vital to stay alive
I’m the turtle known as the peacemaker
That’s firm, serene never a forsaker
I am lizard, killing me brings bad luck
The creation story I play, soul struck
I butterfly bringer of dreams, arrange
Transformation and life cycle of change
I the wolf early ancestor of thee
Totem animal, wise, social, and free
Icon salmon renews energy rays
The legend conveys, respect natures ways
* Shaman translation- The word originates from the language of the Tungus people of Siberia. It can directly be translated literally to “one who works with fire”.
* Tipis (teepees)
Categories:
recount, animal, native american, spiritual,
Form:
Couplet
Dare we wade these tempered shores
less fear of what the next wave brings
a tidal rush playing fates encore
with the music of a thousand wings
This last primeval surge of mystery
completes its voyage at our feet
lost from time's forgotten history
it seeks true peace without deceit
Each drop a story yet may recount
of places seen where myths awake
it brings to us this last account
of trials faced and risks to take
From darkened depths life will surely rise
When hope brings light to sightless eyes
Categories:
recount, analogy, hope, ocean,
Form:
Sonnet
IN SHAME
When I was a little girl father brutally beat me down with such severity, and humiliation, causing me to hang my head down low in unimaginable shame.
When you saw me in public, I was so intensely misunderstood defeated and defaced; but you only looked at my shameful head down, never bothering to try empathy.
When you didn’t ask what was wrong, I felt absolute aloneness in that I could not recount the horrific details of my life without feelings of devastating loss and unworthiness; it was safer to keep my head down.
Still, today, I consider myself a mere passing shadow, meaningless to this earth, so I remain head down with the deepest shame yet, as I breathe in poison that may cause my demise.
After all the battles I fought and survived, I fear this one is my last with head down praying for God’s mercy, forgiveness and His rescue so that I will not perish in this ill-fated manner.
I implore God not to see me with grave disappointment but to graciously pardon me, and though I still cannot raise my head without shame, nonetheless, He will raise me up to the Heavens.
Finally, I remain tragically sorry for my failure to break free of this tormenting mental anguish, however, I beseech GOD and All of you to see my courage and not my failings but instead be proud of me that I fought this long, lastly I plead that you always Remember My Lonely Wounded, but Loving Heart…
I, remain, Sincerely Yours, Diane Perna
Categories:
recount, abuse, angst, anti bullying,
Form:
Free verse
"The fables always recount the same ode.
Every woman dreams of a prince charming
Who is the fruit of a kiss on a toad.
Their sudden love will never stop burning.
Who bets on such a metamorphosis?
Faith of batrachian! It's foolishness!
No pretty lady wants to put a kiss
On a petty frog to find happiness.
If she were existing; pure happenstance
Only at the right dusk, at the right dew.
Only at the right dawn, at the right dance.
Love is not for me. This is what is true."
So spoke an old toad until the last hour
Before a kiss fell, sweet like a flower.
Categories:
recount, love,
Form:
Sonnet
Legends of tribes roam across the plains
Bold spirits guarding their own mighty land
They dance and offer songs to ease lost reign
And nourish life when soldiers flag on,
Encircling a bonfire with shaman’s praise.
The whisper of the winds gives them strength
An Indian terrain, they protect
Oh, hear drumbeats pound a mighty roar
As chieftain gathers the arrow’s quest
For the call of blood, for freedom’s dreams.
Legends passed from generations
Navajos marginalized, tales unfold
When duskfall speaks of native wisdom
To recount strides in brave moccasins
Marking prints from whisper of the winds.
'In the Name of Love for Country -
and Brian's Select 6
Categories:
recount, freedom, native american,
Form:
Lyric
you've broken me in ways I can't recount
unloved, uncherished, and unsought am I
the anguish of my soul I can't surmount
the pounding of my heart an echoed, "Why?"
You were possessed, you were obsessed with me
the sun would not go down till we had met
you claimed my eyes bewitched in fantasy
and dreams of me would leave you in a sweat
you said I was the best of women found
my beauty ravished sweetly every thought
no one like me above or on this ground
for such as I you had sincerely sought
the years unraveled and I lost my glow
no longer did my form desire ignite
the love of someone else you came to know
and so descended hope to endless night
you took away from me my fondest dreams
I came to feel much like some loathsome trash
my tears came not in droplets but in streams
as self esteem then crumbled with a crash
you did not love my soul, you did not see
my true identity, you did not love
and so I tried to be other than me
my eagle heart I veiled to be your dove
and though I try so hard, it is in vain
no word, no smile, no touch can love awake
I daily try to live with searing pain
my heart and soul for you I must forsake
you've broken me in ways I can't express
but life goes on and on, and I survive
now and again I long for love's caress
so that once more my heart can come alive
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
recount, longing, love hurts,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
The voyage long, begun at dawn, and then
the winged beast of metal rolls wheels to ground,
loved ones, inside and out, bear only grins,
and recount old tales of "remember whens?"
The hours of waiting fast recede, unwound,
as passengers embrace their long lost kin,
they grab their bags, head toward waiting cars
with hope and faith, forget the "might have beens."
"Worth the wait?" said Gram, Gramp smiles without a sound.
His son beams at 'the wife' and passes round cigars.
The world is right and bright again.
Categories:
recount, family,
Form:
Curtal Sonnet
I am your champion, I fight for your cause,
my love and devotion give some people pause.
When I saw you I knew you, just like with your dad.
I guess our deep happiness makes some people mad.
I work hard at my job, so that we can live,
and hear me now, son, when it's time to give,
I am the one who ups the amount,
I've done this more often than I can recount.
I also work so your dad will be covered,
for doctors and dentists and allergists and others,
and who do you think pushed him to go
to the skin doctor some two years ago?
From the moment I met you, you felt like my son,
but this is a battle that cannot be won.
When your dad and I married, I didn't steal him away,
he's just as devoted to you to this day.
I heard someone had told you that I was "controlling,"
(I can't even write this without my eyes rolling).
Who insisted your dad fly to LA to see you?
Who worked overtime to pay for this venue?
I encourage his freedom, I've not clipped his wings,
his happiness, above all, is the important-est thing.
I will not be silenced, nor be vilified,
and it just breaks my heart when you take HER side.
I am LOVING and GIVING and ALL THAT IS GOOD,
and I'm tired of being so misunderstood.
So, pardon my migraine, it wasn't intended,
my strength just gave out as your judgement descended.
I lost a whole weekend, I slept like the dead,
I was just too defeated to face down my dread.
I kinda' felt reality shatter, unsure what was real,
like in "Jacob's Ladder."
We're getting no younger, your father and I,
the older we get, the faster time flies.
I love you as if you were my own child,
I'll not carry this burden unreconciled.
©Danielle White
Categories:
recount, confusion, dedication, devotion, sondad,
Form:
Narrative
Sing me a song of love, my sweet,
I'll wait for you even if there's sleet.
A melodious, joyful song. I really wish,
I'll take you out to dinner, a costly dish.
We'll choose a white, dry, splendid wine,
If your eyes doth sparkle, I'll know you're mine.
I’ll whisper sweet nothings, words of pure love,
And hear your moaning just like a white dove.
And we’ll recount memories of days gone by
Oh, sweetheart, love me tenderly, or I’ll surely die.
So sing me a love song, a ballad of old.
And at the end, I'll give you a ring of gold.
Just a ditty, for want of better things
Categories:
recount, love, song,
Form:
Couplet
STORIES TO LIVE BY
Oh! tell me tales that lift the spirit, energise the soul
Inspire a faith that gives the strength to drive toward a goal
Let not the story of the nation be a book of shame
That current generations may seek solace couched in blame
Though there may be dark chapters of our history beset
With episodes of evil we now view with deep regret
True annals yet tell stories of bold quests by those of daring
Who ventured forth with courage, thought of self-preserve foreswearing
To conquer craggy peak, cross frozen continent and sea
And some of grace faced tyranny, risked life to set us free
Let victimhood and pointed accusation not prevail
Nor guilt and self abasement write a gloomy new folktale
As every day a page is turned to quicken and advance
Our lives, should we not be the author of our own romance
Then one day hence we may recount in parable or fable
A legend that all may embrace to hearten and enable
Categories:
recount, life,
Form:
Couplet
Tree Stories
She asked me about the trees
and I laughed, remembering the times I saw her eyes sparkle through the leaves on every single occasion of when I told her what I humbly named "tree stories"
She remembered every single story I told
And even after I stopped telling them, she'd recount every one and begged me to tell more even in the freezing-our-fingers-off cold and when I told her I wouldn't tell her any more,
She silently smiled and knew that my stories were best kept infrequent and special so that that tree never rotted
Now here's another one, made lovingly
I watched the leaves flow through the city and when I walked out of my raggedy old apartment building I felt pity for these leaves
They ran through these sidewalks and crosswalks without a destination and never had a relation to one another, but together made a beautiful creature to which I wrote my plots and storylines for you. The branches themselves stayed put however, waiting for the leaves to come back whenever and ask if it all went well but to be disappointed, for these leaves were gone somewhere, left for a 17 year old boy to be compelled somewhere and so the tree is left forever incompleted everywhere. The tree is left forever, with no other story to tell.
Fall is a hard time for the trees.
I wrote this to make you smile
You know, the one that lasts for miles and for all the while we didn't have the pleasure of seeing one another, so to see that bright smile again I wrote this story for you, my lover in wonder.
This made me so happy to write and my eyes saw even more than what I allowed myself to see at night whenever we have our love filled phone calls and whenever I close my eyes so I can imagine you here with me, your breathing holding over the rough, rough tide.
And now this is where it ends. Till another story I hope this holds you over and again I say, I made it lovingly.
Categories:
recount, absence, art, nature,
Form:
These long days of summer
seemed longer than most,
and I recount the changes
as the season draws closed.
You turned a year older
and learned how to drive.
You tried some new things;
God knows how you survived.
You learned about friendship
and boundaries were drawn.
You learned about trust
and who you could count on.
I sat back and listened.
I tried not to spy.
I watched as your heart broke
and I tried not to cry.
I witnessed the changes
as the distance kept growing
until you drifted away
without even knowing.
As your mom I can see things
that you can't understand
because your heart's still a child
though your body, a man.
This summer brought changes;
so many it seems,
but the greatest of all
is between you and me.
I'll fight for my little boy.
I will hold tight your hand
and help you traverse
your path to a man.
It's going to get bumpy;
This road isn't smooth,
but if we're steadfast together,
the reward will be huge.
I don't want to lose you
and I won't let you fail
so one step at a time.
Inhale. Exhale.
Categories:
recount, 11th grade, for him,
Form:
Lyric