Best Recounts Poems
(Shakespearean Sonnet)
The blue-grass music blares from speaker's face
as guys and gals entwine moon-round the floor,
she sits alone, ignores the dancers' pace
although her ears record the rhythm score.
He begged her love; he painted instant fame.
She nursed her song in dreams alive to wit,
she trusted him to give the verse her name,
and reasoned out they spun a perfect fit.
With traitor's greed intense, he stepped aside,
and claimed her song as his with no remorse.
He left her raw, his chest out-puffed with pride.
Disgraced, abased, her anger reinforced,
she writes another song, recounts the tale,
assured his star will now commence to pale.
absence of sound is the deepest void,
where silence reigns farthest spots,
in that silence is heart beat of thought,
swirling colours of hope, mist of dreams
the din of noise like a turbulent gale,
sweeps away benevolence of such purity,
seedlings of truth germinate in quiet,
when eyes are closed and mind at rest,
when breath recounts the value of life,
mind remembers the time that is lost,
time that only clocks the material,
because in the void there is no time,
so void it was when it all began,
void it will be when it all shall end,
between the voids is myth of presence,
absolute reality is total absence of all!
find that void that binds us all together,
in that void is silence and voice of God!
Premier contest winner (6)
written 8/08/2021
The Void poetry contest
free verse
Unseeking Seeker sponsored
The poem that I write,
Is the one that I fantasize of writing
The one that my muse, celestial being
Made of mysterious essence,
Regards as the celebration of my fall,
Here, in a world devoid of meaning!
This poem recounts of how
The shadows of my life
Get dissipated
As love resolves its senseless issues,
And kisses its broods
With the lips of my passionate tugs!
This poem recounts of how
The climb back to the heavens
Will be smooth,
Laden with light hearts,
Laughing souls,
And fragranced with flowers,
All having true and pure love,
Engraved on their petals!
This poem recounts of how
The life that I lived here
Turned out to be magical
Having, as guide, the angels,
Who kept whispering to my ears
That I am to keep on believing in faith,
That I am to bear in mind,
That the cause of life
Remains the ascent into the spiritual realm!
This poem recounts of how
The bits and the pieces of my toils here
Had their own purposes,
And how,
They helped me build myself up
Into what I ended up being,
A Goddess, fallen, for the sake of love,
But saved, by the comforting arms
Of that same love!
Pray, this poem is a celebration love
Though it be written today,
Someday,
I shall read it to Love,
And tell him,
I kept my hope high,
I kept treading in marshy lands,
I kept swimming with sharks
And I kept having dinner with vipers,
Knowing that somehow,
Someday,
Your grey veil of negativity
Would be lifted
And you would pull me
Into the garden of eternity
As it was deemed
By the Gods themselves!
3 September 2019
The conflict that I’ll never let you see
Is one that rages here inside of me
I face the day and smile away the pain
Yet deep inside these doubts drive me insane
I strive to show a strength I know I lack
For none must know my soul’s under attack
The monster is within and not without
To end my life is what he’s all about
My failures he recounts with vicious glee
To prove that there is nothing good in me
I shiver when I hear his venomed hiss
That tells me I’ll not taste of heaven’s bliss
He flays my sense of worth; I’m left to bleed
I writhe in anguish, longing to be freed
Each day, a battle’s fought inside my mind
I wonder if the road to peace I'll find
And so I fight these waves to reach the shore
Where tempests of my fear will scream no more
And yet my soul is sinking in despair
If God exists, I wonder, does He care?
A prayer bursts from my lips, a desperate plea
“Oh God, you know this storm inside of me
Reach out your hand and pull me from this wave
Please intervene and save me from the grave!”
A sweet and gentle calmness fills my soul
As I let go and give Him full control
I feel my soul revive and conflict cease
For in my heart now reigns the Prince of Peace.
Eileen Ghali
I walk into the store
She comes to greet me
Can I help you miss
Is there anything you'd like to see?
No, just looking
Too early to decide
But I'll let you know
When the time arrives.
Those red bottoms are cute
Or maybe the boots
What could I wear them with
Perhaps a suit?
Here she comes
Watching me like a hawk
Standing next to me, rearranging socks.
What about the others
The daughter and mother
The soccer mom over there
They're not receiving the same glare.
I can clearly see
All eyes are on me.
Look at those earrings
Silver and gold
The perfect accessory
To add a little bling.
And....she's back
Just won't let me be
Buzzing around
Like a little bee.
Maybe I'm being paranoid, imagining things
I guess it's okay
If she recounts the rings.
Perhaps I'll test my theory
Go to the middle of the store.
If she follows me again
I'll know for sure.
Check out those sweaters
Perfect for this weather.
Just choose a color
Meanwhile, she'll bug the girl's mother.
The gray one or the blue
My closet's aching for something new
But before I can make up my mind
Coming in from behind
Once again I see -
All eyes are on me.
Girl, don't let it get to you
Get yo shop on!
Retail therapy never hurt anyone.
The sweaters must need re-folding
Is she worried about the clothes I'm holding?
Does she think I'll stuff them in my purse
This shopping while black thing is a real curse.
Some would question
Why do I care?
If I'm not guilty
It shouldn't matter how they treat me.
But is it right
To be presumed a thief on sight?
Every shopping spree
All eyes are on me.
Illumination from the entrance
Make it vivid that Jefferson is ‘crazy’
Scripts splatter on the bare floor
Engulf with writings from the mind
Dramatizing the lines with emotions
Aghast! I stand watching the Jefferson
Displaying competency in a dramatics loom
Madness of characterization of the lines make the
Poems visible from his drama the dance steps
in resonance with the utterances as he maneuvers moves stealthily
is Jefferson crazy?
Before I could write the last line
Suddenly, he falls and breathes endlessly
He lay like a tired butterfly…
Have you seen one before?
‘I don’t have a pen’ he recounts
‘I don’t have a pen ‘ he utters breathing heavily
I don’t have a pen too I respond
I was just writing from my mind
On the table I see the line
‘I don’t have a pen’.
Our commander in chief
will soon leave office what a relief
for he has occasion and a reason
to engulf a gulf into war
from the Persian gulf to Capsian sea
our leader to his guilt will cop a plea
for the crime he has committed
and the perfect punishment should be fitted
for all the flack
he should pick up trash in Iraq
for all his lies
from a horse's butt he should swat flies
for his cabinet in question
he should not have access to the button
for the threat of nukes in the sky
he should eat humble pie
for the hour is at hand
where as a country we should tae a stand
and put in command
someone we demand
no more recounts
and questionable elections
for these transactions are but reflections
our time in now
bring home or sons and daughter and leave not one P.O.W
Man and dog, reputed best friends, rise above death’s fears.
With lives on the line, heroes save, minds and hearts in action.
Stories mount across counties where rescuers save many tears.
Not for any gain or fame, but for responsible satisfaction.
A perky little poodle, pretty, adorned in green and gray,
Trapped inside a smoke filled house could not get away.
Firemen forced their way inside in time to save the day.
She squirmed in the arms of safety, well enough to play.
(http://www.suffolknewsherald.com/2011/01/28/firefighters-rescue-dog/)
A black and white dog fell through the ice; he was not skating.
The thinly frozen water, his trap, oh, day in Rhode Island.
Rescuers came to save that dog; there was no hesitating.
They quickly warmed the shaking beast and gave a life-saving hand.
(http://cranston.patch.com/articles/dog-rescued-by-fire-department)
A German shepherd gone astray in the Los Angeles River
Stood on a shallow watery ledge, amid rushing waters.
His savior dangled above the scene, without any shivers.
A struggle for life, one bite to the thumb…success never falters.
(http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2010/01/los-angeles-firefighter-recounts-daring-dog-
rescue.html)
A candle flame, dog owner out, disaster begins to rage.
Five dogs in Colorado Springs saved while the fire burned.
One Chihuahua crossed the Vail to the great doggie sage.
But with love and a fireman’s CPR, her life was soon returned.
(http://www.examiner.com/dog-rescue-in-national/firefighters-rescue-five-dogs-save-chihuahua-
with-cpr)
Across the species border, thrives a caring respect for life.
Both man and canine have been willing to sacrifice breath itself.
Facing danger, against raging flames, bravery beyond strife,
A "dobbie" protects her puppies loving her babies more than herself.
The rescuer knew she passed through her fears and did so aptly.
He had risked his life for her and her pups, awareness shone well.
Both man and dog covered in ash with faces gray and sooty,
No bite, but kisses of thankfulness, she gave, so the world could tell.
© January 29, 2011
Described as a pillar of commitment
in relationships between hosts and guests
hospitality plays the major role
in making Scriptures speak to life situations.
The biblical recounts about these people,
like Abraham, Lot, Ruth, David, and many others;
their expressions of how hospitality is understood,
in the ancient Near East cultures and traditions;
dubbed as a sacred obligation that strangers
be treated well and recognized as one of our own.
When the Israelites were freed from oppression,
God walked with them along the wilderness;
they might have complained so much
but God listened to them with the heart of compassion.
Those prophets and other biblical characters,
their sense of otherness makes a big explanation;
that part of being human there’s a connection
between what is needed and God’s call to everyone.
Well, Christ teaches during meal fellowships
inclusion of those who don’t flow in the mainstream;
these are the poor, oppressed, defenseless, and many others;
that they become the guests in his eternal kingdom.
It’s a great deal of openness to welcome those
immigrants in this country of opportunity;
in spite of growing difficulties in many spheres
America remains a magnet to all cultures around the globe.
While strangers these days become like a threat,
even a continuing question that knows no answer
here in this world we still find how hospitable
the American people in years of that long history of immigration.
Something else? Or is it just a question?
In every language, in every nation, nearly everyone
Asks themselves at least once - Oh my!
Where have the days gone by…..?
The student panics. His greatest sorrow-
The bloody exam is tomorrow!
The revision time is over. Out comes a cry-
Where have the days gone by??!!
The aged nostalgise. On their beds they lie.
Memories are all they have now to live by.
Their time is running high.
Where have their days gone by?
The politician recounts- I wielded such power!
As I stuffed myself with bribes, assistants would hover.
While the people cried- Fie!
Where have those days gone by???
The retired athlete rhapsodises. His old medals are all
That are left to remind him he once stood tall.
Those days were such a wonderful high!
Ah! Where have my days gone by….?
The jilted lover cries- What did I do wrong???!!!
With all my broken heart, for her I long…….
A silent tear rolls down as he looks up to the sky.
Just where have those days gone by………….
A street dog barks, a crow caws outside.
A vendor shouts, the phone rings by the bedside.
The nostalgia ends, the reverie is broken.
A sigh escapes, Words are swallowed unspoken.
As the world buzzes back like a house fly,
Forgotten are, The Days Gone By……………..
an English Ode
A shepherd-boy composer sang of hope -
pastoral psalms were first heard by his lambs,
his soothing music helped King Saul to cope,
distressing psalms related rival's scams.
Young David, you respected God as Lord
and recognized that giving thanks is praise.
Recalling God's own mighty triumphs past,
you wrote of vict'ry, friendships with accord;
you shaped forgiveness, faith, your Father's ways.
As king, you wrote of blessings deep and vast.
Oft-quoted, sung and prayed by millions wide
Psalm 23, perhaps the best-known psalm.
And "Bless the Lord, my soul," we've gladly cried,
Psalm 1-0-3 are verses penned to calm.
We lift up praise, "majestic is Thy name,"
to God from both Psalm 8 and 21.
"Create in me a clean heart, Thou my God,"
writes David when confronted with true shame;
Psalm 51 recounts how cleansing's done.
King David's psalms, sweet music to applaud.
Taking other's estimation of you, David, as enough justification to write of the biblical King David in your honor. I know you will miss your friendships here. May God bless your future plans as only He can.
Helen Keller
Helen Keller
88
CharlaXFabels
This is what eye remember about the MOVIE of course eye never knoe her. She
was moving constantly moving at least the actress who was portraying her but to
a boy it WAS her it seemed so heart wrenching a thing to just be blind there is a
SCHOOL for THEM they do not function in the real world and there she was big
as life the boy in my had that CRUSH upon her from the instant eye saw her it
was strang puppy love. Winner of the 1960 Tony Award for Best Play, “The Miracle
Worker” tells the incredible story of Helen Keller, a young woman trapped in a
world of silence and darkness. Deaf, blind, and mute, with no way to
communicate, she fought anyone who tried to help her with an intense, furious
desperation. Then Annie Sullivan came. A strong, determined, half-blind woman
fueled by her troubled past, she began the daunting struggle to reach Helen and
bring her into the world at last. She was so pretty in an odd sort of way swaying to
the tune of musick only she could see and hear the idea that she tried to
overcome her handicap and live was so nice to this little undergod. YThis semi-
sequel to William Gibson's The Miracle Worker recounts the early adult years of
the profoundly handicapped but brilliant Helen Keller. Helen, played by Mare
Winningham, enters college, with her friend and mentor Annie Sullivan Macy
(Blythe Danner) by her side. As Helen's international fame grows, she must
withstand the pressures of those who'd treat her as a freak rather than a human
being as well as Annie's near-strident demands that she excel at everything. The
multi-faceted Ms. Keller lived too much of a life to be squeezed into a mere two-
hour running time; the script betrays the strain of trying to show us more than it's
able by wrapping up everything in a hurried, unsatisfying conclusion. see part two
ED.NOTE
best friend, children, first love, games, heartbreak, life, moving on,
SKIP TO MY LOU! ©
Harmonizing rhythms
Rotations synchronize to
Skip to My Lou
My Darlings
Couples take up ends
Two turn rope 'required'
Like me with you
Two ends
One jumper
Take turns
Work ends timing.
Double Dutch
Double quick
Pavement recounts
All the licks!
Skipped times
Challenges anew
Missteps loose turns
Rope Splits
Stop skip
Mid crisis
Ends must be reunited
Another ‘Skip To My Lou’
Game starts
More to chance
With knotted ends
'Jointed' again
Start the count-down
One, two, three,four,
You missed stepped---
And loose
My turn!
Fairhair’s youngest son the good, for peace trickery repaid, by hawk upon the knee Norse blood raised an English king, hid from the bloody axe until his reign A Christian in a pagan scene A God Thing in a Frost Thing old ways die hard drunken jarls twelve leaping things hot yule-beer, boiling horse flesh He signs the cup a cross to bear in heathen affair Raven-feast a king tries to bring his people the Hope of the New Living Thing Pushing back the fires of bloody axe, he fought Eric’s sons blue-toothed Danes Annihilator of all other Skalds recounts Haakon's Song his good night Outnumber six to one by Danes all weapons pointed, at the golden helmet though mocking refrains now hidden by poet's hat thrust on through you shall find Quernbiter, cutting runes and the Norse king, putting to flight the Danish plight whirling recoil of the fleeing Erikson a lonely arrow finds Haakon's heart upon the flat rock lay slain though the Dark-wolf again eats the land a Christian king has the hope of a God thing * * Notes -Hákonarmál is a skaldic poem,EARLY KINGS OF NORWAY by Thomas Carlyle,THE THING SMALL LOCAL COUNTRYSIDE THING --Thing (assembly)
Explosions rock the boat;
Ocean gushes inside.
The battered stern won't float,
All controls lock their slide.
Listing fifteen degrees,
The lifeboats fail to launch.
Swift decent lugs a squeeze
Impossible to staunch.
After mounting seconds
The vessel starts to slow,
While the stark deep beckons
To swallow them below.
Schweiger spies the turmoil
From aboard U-20.
Acts of rage shall embroil.
Outcomes destroy plenty.
Along the starboard side,
Crewmen sadly lose grip.
Force and terror collide--
Rag dolls plummet and flip.
The Merseyside Bowler,
Captain Bill Turner stays
As the helm controller
Until the sea betrays.
He scoops the chart and log
Before tossed by the wave
To splash down in the fog
As deck chairs bob to save.
Eighteen minutes stalk down
As the queen disappears,
This vessel of the crown
Sheds life essence like tears.
Of the forty-eight rafts,
Only six salvage lives.
Few are plucked from the craft,
Rescued before the dive.
Bodies scramble for life
As the rouge flotsam floats.
Survivors torn by strife
Wait for swift rescue boats.
The massive toll of grief
Demands a quick response.
Liars sell disbelief,
More soldiers to ensconce.
Freedom dies from deceit
Since justice needs to thrive.
Heroes wail in defeat
When covert acts contrive.
So Schweiger falls denounced
For his sinister role.
Yet U-boats do fall trounced
By the British patrol.
Bounties Cunard offers
To captains ramming foes
Offer tempting coffers
For quelling danger woes.
Poor Lusitania!
Dashed by corruptive lies.
Megalomania,
Shielding truth in disguise.
The sleeping giant stirs
Due to brutal accounts,
Sparking violent slurs
With omissive recounts.
Woodrow Wilson blusters
At the German attack
While the bankers muster
To break our nation’s back.
Indignant elites rule
Behind grim deception.
Lessons untaught in school
Show wicked inception.