Best Recoup Poems
I am seated in a bed-like rock
Under the foothills this is a single block
The Sun rises behind my back
Though I face hills in the west, its rise I could track
The dawn delightfully unfurl
Mother nature decorates herself, like a girl
The valley is full of greenery
This is a soul soothing summer scenery
Flies are flying in group
With joy and strength, to recoup
Honey bees are busy flying from one to other flower
A fresh flower spreads the fragrance in the air
A group of sparrows fly at a low height
Jubilantly enjoying the new light
A tiniest sparrow dances by jumping from one leaf to the other of a plant
On seeing this, I too wish to jump out of joy, like an infant
Peacocks register their scream from a nearby place
I could hear well, as this area is ruled by peace
From a distant rock, a pair of peacock looks
Displaying the richest colors of their outlooks
Birds potentially program their offspring by singing to their eggs, at a short distance
One may think that they raise the voice with a grievance
Before me, a rabbit runs ruthlessly
Forgetting self, I sit here like lifelessly
Fight of monkeys upon trees on the top of the hill, comes like a melody
Free for all, as the whole range is under His custody
Clouds try to attract my attention with an array of colors
Peace as the Prince on the stage, countless others are actors
Breeze blows as if to say she is the most adorable among all
Of course, choosing the one among all is hard to tell
This is a mind moving morning
In my life, this day is a fine inning
My heart desires to lie under this foothill
But my soul is not full
as my mind yearns for my love
Of course, this place is like a paradise, as above
If I am to cherish my love even in a paradise,
the power of love, you may be pleased to praise
Though I stay away at a far off place
The feelings of romance runs like a race
To live here, to the God, I shall be abundantly faithful
But to conquer my soul, other than such love, nothing is more powerful !
Like the brightest stars we fade in time
Losing the sparkling diamond in our eyes
Our zest for excitement slowly subsides
Attempts to succeed become futile tries.
The light we send out diminishes with age
Life, as in childhood, is no longer sublime
Each day we slowly turn another page,
And think about when it will be our time
While frantically trying to recoup our youth
Knowing the past has slipped slowly away,
We cling to our wit and humor often uncouth
Searching for real meaning in every day.
Not retrievable in this fleeting dimension
We search for vestiges of elusive truth,
In a restless world filled with hatefulness
While protecting our own, staying aloof.
Until no longer the night sky projecting,
We burn out in a barely noticed blaze of glory,
And hope upon hope, not really certain,
Someone will care enough to tell our story.
Written July 22, 2022
NEW BEST POEM LIST #41
POETRY SOUP
July 25, 2022
NEW BEST POEM LIST #66
September 1, 2022
I sense a life before
peripheral of present being --
Witnessed the Very Cross!
Yet to recoup Virtue's loss,
a soul injury indeterminable
Blessing, no crime lives forever
No sin a spirit’s annihilation
Wrong may bleed for generations
suture~ thankful a benevolent God --
“Eat not your own heart”
Conscience no judge nor final jury
God loved us from the start
His grace man’s inevitable victory --
In early spring I found you on Poetry Soup
A haven where wordsmiths congregate to recoup
Some sense of sanity in a world filled with grief
Your friendship, dear Highlander, has brought much relief
Being new to writing, I decided to try
So I joined the Soup, and a name caught my eye
Carolyn Devonshire, was the name in question
Her guidance has taken me to a different dimension
Who'd know the Soup would bring a Scottish writing mate
It was our destiny; now I believe in fate
A braveheart's pen paints history and mystery
Erasing fear and lifting me from misery
No sooner had I arrived beautiful comments were received
My writing was enjoyed and I now started to believe
An American lady has become a soul mate and teacher
Her words of kindness enhanced my words to be featured
So much loss I'd incurred just before we met here
Never had I dreamed of finding a comrade so dear
He reached across the sea and took me by the hand
And together we've escaped to fantasy lands
Before the Soup, I posted somewhere else
If you were not one of them you were left on the shelf
But the Soup's beach babe led me by the pen
I was absorbed in her circle right there and then
James and I propose a toast to many Soup friends
Whose talents are displayed here again and again
Too many great writers to mention each one's name
A new year comes as you enter our Hall of Fame
Happy New Year from James and me to all of the Poetry Soup Family!
The ugly witch kept her in a tower
And made her work hour after hour,
Until her loved prince set her free
When he said, “Rapunzel, marry me.”
The old witch had a raving fit
And truly carried on a bit.
She said “I’ll fix that mangy prince,
By brewing my magic herbs and quince.”
The prince, not so dumb as the witch thought,
Dug a big trap. The witch was caught.
He forced her to drink her own homebrew
And added some of his own stuff too.
The witch lay there in a big stupor,
Elves came along, tried to recoup her.
They thought she was their friend SnowWhite.
They fed her bon bons day and night.
They noticed she was getting bigger
And pretty soon would lose her figure.
They gave her to a passing frog
Who carried her to his marriage log.
He’s proud of his bride and her loud croak
But the witch is sad, her life’s a joke.
The moral of this is plain to see
Or that’s the way it seems to me
Don’t keep a damsel in distress.
Or it may be you whose life’s a mess.
For John Heck's "Happily Ever After? contest won 9th
I came first but you did not write me in history
You made me mute, invisible, estranged
From my own heredity and great memory
With the slivering tongue arranged
Upon my brain. You brought me back, later
Across the wet desert of the Atlantic
From coffle to cotton, without choice in the matter
So I would believe I was a lunatic.
For only lunatics have no sense of place or name
Make roads they cannot walk, make garments
That cannot cover the stereotypes of shame.
I proved genius in better moral arguments
Did not let me take your life for all your cruelty.
Here is one more for your book, from islands
To continents I made them all the same
You left them blood and gold from your hands
Dripping, I followed you with a different name
Look again, who is the immigrant? Who do you fool?
Let me not deny your stealth, this separation
Of the vine from the root, by dividing you rule
But before you set us at variance, a suggestion
What is the DNA of all your wealth, the legacy
Of pirates and slaves? There is no beggar's hand
Here, just agents to recoup with undue courtesy
The treasures stolen from love and native land
I was but a boy
You seemed almost a toy,
So young, and in love,
We fit just like a glove
You said, "All I can offer you,
Is a love that time can not destroy"
Oh boy!, Oh boy!!
It filled me full of joy.
Nineteen was I
Sixteen you were,
Living in our house,
My Mom, you loved her...
My father, you helped him
build a stoop,
These are moments,
We can never recoup...
But eternity was short lived,
You went to work,
Left me for another man,
I felt like the biggest jerk
No, it's not all your fault,
I realize that,
I did not provide something,
In grief I sat,
Your treacherous friend,
Her eyes on me,
Stirred the pot,
For whatever reason,
For me she was hot
But I would not cross that line,
Her boyfriend,
Was a friend of mine
Well it's all water under the bridge
Over troubled waters,
A song I cherish,
Our eternal love,
Was destined to perish.
Some day
One day
How about today?
Let all that is you
Dance to the rhythm of your soul
Indulge in some soul sessions
Whatever they might be
Acknowledge who you are in this moment
Pretty, afraid or even anxious
About anything and everything
Don't double back on what you feel
There is enough doubt going around
Try not to put on the dress of insecurity today
Give yourself that downtime
To recoup - leave indecision at the door
©wilmaneels
©07062020
Poets around the world gather right here
Over mounts and founts where muse is found clear
Expecting greatness from Poetry Soup
Then finding it when you need to recoup
Rehabilitated when you feel at home
Your sweet quill shall pen the perfect poem
Simplistic yet deep I do write sometimes
Or a long acrostic poem that rhymes
Utterly amazing poetry site
Put our hearts together and let’s go write!
Relieving your angst from a long hard day
Open up that journal, do it your way
Caring for others when kindness is yearned
Kaleidoscope of cultures we have learned
So gather in love; for this gift is earned
!
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Written: August 21, 2019
-luloo
In life's busy race, writing poems keeps me sane,
If writing is a boon, Poetry Soup's my bane,
I have many friends here who've welcomed me with joy,
Then there are some, who leave comments if they enjoy,
There are others, who never bother with a hi,
E'en if I read them, they're too busy to comply,
But despite everyone, my journey has been smooth,
I've grown as a poet, I think, and that's the truth,
I've received premium gifts, for which I'm grateful,
I'm glad, PS wellwishers, I have a plateful,
There have been times when I wanted to quit this Soup
Due to writer's block. I needed time to recoup,
But I crave Poetry Soup, I can't quit writing,
And that's why I'm still here, making soup exciting.
PLIGHTS FOUGHT TOMORROW KNOWN
WRITTEN FOR DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR. HOLIDAY 2016 (Versified!)
As days transpires, better we focus.
As life transgress, better our voice.
A walk, a talk, a political aspect of religion and righteousness.
Via the Founding Fathers we separated church and state.
Socio-political and socio-religious are the floodgates.
As we remember, tears may drop,
Is it the strength we possess that ruminates us?
We overcame our struggles and we are abreast to our accomplishments.
We are the United States of North America.3
Analysis of our external environment let us know
that we are a strong workforce.
That we are no more separated by the color of our skin.
That our unity is our identity of different nations of human beings.
That our mien is our self-image of economy –
the” big picture” of demeanor.
When we falter, we recoup.
We do not assume we will fall from what others do.
We are the people of our regions that are vast and wide.
We are negotiators of our lives.2
As we celebrate today in our mind-sets,
we know what may overwhelm us.
This could be how far we have come.
Or, it could be how far we will continue to go -
to climb the mountains that we must peak -
to deplete human suffering from the illness we perceive.
That is what is known and all the possibilities.
We have witnessed many tragedies from the
time of formation to present day.
But oh, we can find glory just as well in our beliefs,
creeds, and unity.1
Envois is this discourse.
Pro-activism edifice verbalized.
But to no idiom this loll.
We are all part of the same universe.
Each has his or her role to play.
All are formidable when the goal is stated.
May one be easier than the other?
May we strive to be a part of the same country?
Where we are awe-inspiring but together.
That is on the same page.
Where our lives are the similarity, and the same is our home front.
This is right outside our front door.4
The plight is fought and tomorrow is known!5
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Written January 16, 2016!
There was a poet at PoetrySoup
Whose only wish was to help the group
Poems he wrote every day
Just wanted good things to say
Disappointed though, he left to recoup!
(C) Demetrios Trifiatis
17 MARCH 2015
In the swirling breeze the leaves rustled,
Dawn nears and voices of crickets falter;
Her fingers glided on the water,
Down beneath the even surface rippled
Blue disappears where white clouds,
Birds fly as the cage frees;
In her mind own self she doubts,
With no one beside her who believes.
Rivers flow and creatures stoop,
Among the flickering stars shadows thrive;
How she longed for her strength to recoup,
For the burning desire to feel alive.
Flowers bloomed and colors flew,
Before night came and darkness spilled;
If anyone ever listens she never knew,
Her fervent wishes perhaps left desolated.
By the window curtains draped,
A nest perks where branches creep,
It scurries away had purpose arrived,
Emptiness ticked by as seconds keep.
Clear lakes freeze in the cold season,
In the crystalline forms beautiful cracks,
The sad melody in her head comes undone,
A gentle hand she felt touched her heart.
Heavy rain darkens the tree barks
As it lessens out comes a rainbow,
Inside her torn soul its faith that sparks,
A seed of hope her angels sow.
pain is
a mind thing
blue skys
Each day I awake and kiss the stubs on my hand - - - now, five of them. I never broke! Remembering each day, I thankfully kiss the feet of God in my mind. I thank him for the fact that they have only cut off another joint. All night they threatened - - - and had finally cut it off. I recoup while they get some sleep. I never broke, but I cried. I begged, pleaded and cussed, because they wanted a show more than the information. I had learned self-hypnosis as a kid. Little did I think then of how I would use it.
So, here I sit today. No fingers, no toes. I need about fifty skin grafts but you know?- - - I’m all right !!. I’m all right. I have loved and felt love. I have had the joy of being a son, a brother, a husband and a father. I don’t owe anyone an apology.
Now, I pray to be able to look deep within myself. I want to retreat far enough into my mind to find that bridge. I want the path to the other side.
So, sleepy, so much blooo ......... . . . !
click click, click click, tick-tock, tick-tock,
the clock seems to tick not as fast as one wants,
the air conditioner stops now they can hear you chew,
after the first week, you knew this wasn't the right job for you.
two years go by, collectively this repetition makes the time fly
but each day feels like two weeks in the mind,
a backwards reality, a 21st century tragedy, too much of this will make one mad you see, its just not natural - self destruction will take place gradually
in search of a new end goal, something nourishing to the soul, perhaps a little creative control, a bit more spiritual, and a little less ritual,
how about less them, and a little more you, knowing you have the ability to pursue anything you want to do, but for now you keep your head down just trying to see the day through and then forcefully recoup - praying the IT department doesn't notice you scrolling down poetry soup:)