Best Renovated Poems
Winter is approaching.
I feel it in my floorboards; in my baseboards;
in every nook and cranny.
I wait to be filled again at this time of Thanksgiving, and
As I wait, sounds of the past linger in my consciousness:
The excited moans of the men and of the women (some of whose
first introduction to me came from being carried across my threshold)
as they lay close together in their bed late at night;
The strange incessant wailing of babies that later arrived -
wailing that later changed, more often than not, into squeals of glee.
Some of the families I sheltered engulfed me with heaviness.
In those years, I was assaulted by loud shouting,
much like the barking of dogs from outside.
Those shouts were often met by shrill hysterical screams
or even by the sad sobs of children.
One sound stays with me like a ghost: the quiet weeping
of one lone occupant who held a gun to his head.
In an instant I felt his blood splatter against my walls.
I prefer to remember the touch of the children:
their small smudged fingers exploring my kitchen cupboards;
their tiny warm bodies scooting across my tiles.
On one unusual occasion, a child scribbled happily
on my bathroom walls with bright Crayola colors.
After the explosion of his mother’s angry words,
the bathroom was transformed, and with magic paper
a small part of me was wearing the figures of gold and purple fish.
Forty times or more I’ve been left; then re-inhabited.
Several times I’ve been overhauled: my carpet torn out, a new one laid;
my doors and my fixtures changed for modern ones;
my furnace and my pipes (even once a ceiling) - all replaced.
But lately, I’ve felt so weary, and even renovated, I’m feeling out of place.
Just last month as I was emptied and cleaned for the umpteenth time,
I heard the newest landlord tell his wife:
We won’t have to put up with this crap anymore -
not after we get the offer from those guys who want to build a mall.
I wonder what he meant. My heat and water both have been cut off for so long.
Usually a couple is here by now. But only silence echoes through my halls,
and I’m growing so very cold.
Categories:
renovated, life, me,
Form:
Free verse
Boated through the tantalizing Kerala backwater
in a pleasant summer morning;
Coconut groves were adorning
our way and perky fishes were chased by river otters
Cacophony of the swaying lofty coconut trees
and the nearby evergreen plants
produced a mesmerizing chant
that certainly consoled the chaotic minds and appease
Majestic banyan tree with its spiraled pillar branches
enthralled the endemic birds
and the migrating animal herds
on the river bank, renovated the place into the ranch
Suddenly the boat entered into the hollow way
where tangled trees made archways,
and fallen flowers filled our pathways
welcomed us, it was such an unforgettable day
Reflections of the slender palm trees on the waters,
painted a flawless picturesque picture
with the kaleidoscope of colors and mixtures
Which was untapped only in the perpetual back waters
Coots and cormorants swiftly plunged into water
When they heard the sound of the boat
Tranquility of the place calmed the hysteria
and it led to the apocalypse of worldly emotions
Sep-9-2017
POTD on Sep 11 2017
I was so happy and I felt so blessed as I received this honour on the death anniversary of my favorite poet Mahakavi Bharathiyar.
Categories:
renovated, beautiful, nature,
Form:
Free verse
I AM A PROUD GREEK SUNDIAL
I only tell of sunny hours historically,
And go back to when I was built,
Fifty years before Christ was born,
Have been renovated and rebuilt!
My name is Tower of the Winds,
I live in Agora, Athens Greece,
I live at the summit, on top,
Tell time and season, quite an eyepiece
Lord Elgin attempted to remove me from
Greece and take me to Britain but failed,
But I the sundial perched high above,
Stand proud as Elgin’s actions were curtailed!
Entered into sundial wisdom poetry contest 12/2/2019
Categories:
renovated, pride,
Form:
Personification
Many birdhouses seen
In the different shape
On a backyard fence
In different colors
The squirrel is searching
For a place to nest
One squirrel chased a bird
From the fenced birdhouse
The squirrel ate the eggs
A mother bird laid
Then when shew was done
The squirr4el got busy
She enlarged the hole
She made it bigger
Then the squirrel decided
To make another
Entrance to the house
She chewed a hole
Now for the side door
Making it larger
Categories:
renovated, bird, house,
Form:
Narrative
The badger entering the underground labyrinth
it is impossible to discover the stars at night
In the drowsy dark caves of the mind
trying to maintain the truth safe in the memory
Clouds, slowly suffocate my courage
While sipping the liqueur of bitterness
Unspoken words die on the tongue, as seasons come and pass
Ghosts in dirty rags
Wounded feelings, in the shadow of the evening
Forgive me, with the scent of lilies to sweeten the path of life
The future belongs to those who believe in their dreams
Field of forgiveness gives love renovated splendor
From darkness, to flower - in the embrace of harmony
Categories:
renovated, emotions, forgiveness,
Form:
Free verse
Inspirational poem.. Rising Golden red sun all its way..dedicated to all
of you guys..wrote by Mrs.Madhavi
The Rising Red sun
As like the charming moon and luminous star fades away.
It promises to send the dynamite sun shining in the sky.
Due to which oceano pearl glitters all the day.
Praying god for the happiness in all our way.
The morning sagas made me understand, Me and my vivacious life.
But When I look back and pick up the souvenir of my childhood. Its just nostalgic. Feel like to go back to the teenage. The sustained pain is the only option left that I can’t get those days of my innocence back.
All I could make up my mind and just say, move on. Just move on.
Ray of hope chimed my heart.
Because god gifted me Something and added in my cart.
Provided me and my sincerity towards work can’t depart.
From the very day uplifted to give a quick start.
The moment I realized the magnetising power of the sun.
Felt trust on it and renovated my life again by attenuating my pains.
Rest all I expect peace my thee.
Left with the ray of hope. Bless us MY god, My lord !!!!!
Wrote by:
Mrs.Madhavi
Categories:
renovated, addiction, allah, art, baby,
Form:
Concrete
Towering, organic orifice;
Spiring, glistening steeple
Wholesome, organic form;
Brokered, burnished symbol
Environmentally-conditioned
organism; Artificially-renovated
copse
Bland, earthy edifice; Bright,
glowing orb
Dull, lifeless timber; Vibrant,
veiled oracle
Shielded, sheltered ember;
Shiny, showcased beacon
Soaring, sylvan sentinel;
Stunted, cropped cinder
Cherished, nourished fodder;
Chosen, sanctified shroud
Pristine, woody carbine;
Refinished, domesticated
chalice
Categories:
renovated, holiday
Form:
Idyll (Idyl)
Two evil angels of man destruction
From a dark cloud
Descend an evil force
Like a fallen angel
The world now morn it gravities
Fallen two angels of destruction
One like a human
Another in form of just material
Two evil angels of man destruction
Just like a twins it both force
Now rule all we know
As most humans today
Base all dreams just to achieve
Material wealth
No wonder few just understand
And live spiritual
Now I know why the universe
Is no long accommodating
For this evil force
Is the blindness of our sight
To see God (love)
Two evil angels of man destruction
Our earth is being renovated with
Wars
Our needs are too endless
Yet this twins force keep existing
In us and with us
Ignorance still the end game
So I wonder how come love
Is forbidden
For we human don't know
Nature any more
Just only chasing and needing
Human and material desire
A twins force that ends up here
So bad!
Categories:
renovated, abuse, africa, dedication, deep,
Form:
Epic
A cardboard mansion, renovated expansion
No payments left to be made
Three car garage, a hungry mirage
An elegant dumpster buffet
Hand tailored suit sewn with laces from boots
Which he donated to a friend
His non existent gold, lost through the holes
A tragedy one can not defend
Disheveled and dirty and always wordy
Talking about his wonderful life
Has failing health, depends on himself
No way to feed kids or a wife
His only possession is his neck sign confession
"Have mercy will work for food"
No tears left to cry, society asks why
But for the Grace of God it be you.
An original poem by the "Poemdog" Daniel Turner
There are nearly 1 million homeless in the US alone
! In 7 go hungry daily. Just think about it.
Categories:
renovated, humanity, meaningful, society,
Form:
Rhyme
renovated grace
upper terrace enshrouding
satiated guest
Categories:
renovated, space
Form:
Senryu
Words that echo the sublime
Each syllable resounds a doleful chime
Accentuated by a bleak, monotonous rhyme
That skews the cadence and scuttles the time
Words that filter through, then prime
Heart's engine to slowly pine
Fueled by structural anomalies; sick, semantical serpentine
Break lines that throttle, then realign
Soul's transmission shifts in gear to divine
Sorrow and suffering in every byline
Each strut, an awkward bounce that jars the dragline
Leaky, cracked manifold manifest in every squeaky note, sign
Incongruent parts renovated to shock by design
Tales-end, toxic fumes will every literary splice twine
Finish will be sealed with a lackluster shine
Categories:
renovated, allegory
Form:
Rhyme
Confidence is a stain,
you can't wipe off
Put the pen in my hand
And turn the lights off,
Eternal light glowing
from the pits of my pen,
Killing others poets
my pen commits deadly
Sins,
When reading my work
You feel inebriated
I meant intoxicated
Poetry renovated
Never duplicated
Highly anticipated
I make it complicated
Killer exonerated
The world spectated
This is authenticated
Your work
disseminated
broadly dissipated
Be real when you read my work
Your hopes were deflated
My teacher once told my mom-
I was dyslexic
Now look at my ethics
I leave my fans
Electric
I'm unapologetic
Surely not sympathetic
Like a paramedic
Helping a schizophrenic
Tell a friend
to tell a friend
I'm starting a
Epidemic..
Categories:
renovated, courage, dream,
Form:
Free verse
ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING
My husband had a restaurant
For thirty two years,
Much frustration, kitchen hell
And staff in tears.
The Oasis was a place to dine
Of note,
When exhausted, we drove down,
To the coast and surfed the waves on our boat.
He was renown,
From Limpopo, to Cape Town!
But the time had come to relax a bit,
So he could read the daily newspaper,
And actually sit!
We sold the Oasis, renovated
Our kitchen so it could be his
Own place,
And of course space,
Where I am occasionally allowed
To show my face,
But only to make dessert or taste,
And with a kiss of somewhat haste,
Retreat to let him do his
Own thing,
And enjoy an absolute kitchen
Fling!
He cooks with his hands, soul and
And heart,
And he always dresses for the part,
Be it kitchen hand, chef or
Restaurateur,
He is, and always has been an excellent,
Interpreter,
Of any recipe as far as Beijing,
In fact he can cook anything,
From any Nation, culture or creed,
He has a flair that none can
Exceed!
And looks so cute,
In his dinner suit!
It’s time to serve dinner in style,
Which takes a while,
First he lights candles, then gives
Me a hug,
Pours me wine from our silver jug,
Serves us both and eventually
Sits down.
He had previously told me to
Dress in a comfortable gown,
I guessed he had some surprise
Up his sleeve,
For it was the eve,
Of our Wedding Anniversary.
A bell rings, it’s our front door,
There stands a chauffeur and behind
Him a limousine ,
I still didn’t know what was in store.
Until, the limosine turned towards
the airport,
My husband had packed my suitcase,
And brought my passport,
We board a plane and then he
Discloses,
To me with a bunch of roses,
That we were off to Mauritius for a week,
And, gives me a kiss on each cheek.
He had asked the pilot to please hide,
The roses, everything was so beautifully planned,
I just cried!
Happy Anniversary darling, he said.
I also had a surprise for him,
For he filled my life with such
Happiness, to the brim,
But I would keep this secret until
We arrived,
Happy Anniversary sweetheart
I replied!
Categories:
renovated, anniversary, romantic,
Form:
Rhyme
Watching and waiting
Nothing happens;
Until just now
Trade buzz
Money changing hands;
Bazaar commotion
Old shophouses
Newly renovated;
Brisk traffic parades
Corner cafe
Stray conversations;
Small talk overhead
Spring time blossoms
Yunnan, China journey;
Leftover memories
Midday siesta
Groggy with fatigue;
Day dreams of old China
Humid and hot sweat
Sun fires fiery fever;
Cold drink comforts
Noisy food court
Rush of lunch crowd;
Food salvation seekers
Fashionable retail
Branded goods purveyor;
Peacock feathered nuances
Welcome now
Our store promises plenty;
If you've got dough
Face after face
We measure our lives;
Sales offers escalate
Leon Enriquez
19 June 2014
Singapore
Categories:
renovated, repetition,
Form:
Haiku
..... SONG OF DEATH ......
Tick tok, Tick tok,
In the past, goes the clock,
Where there lived a girl...
In a cottage, white like pearl...
She used to sing a song,
Humming, "the angel takes over the wrong "
But the poor girl never knew....
About the Nazis and the jews...
Once a darkest evening,
The cottage door had a ring,
Inn came a German man...
Blabbering, from Nazis that he ran....
The girl became so sweet,
She gave him...the best cooked meat...
But the dining fork and knife,
Took away her sweet life...
Her throat was bleeding with a deep cut...
With just a humming sound, her eyes were shut..
There she sang her favorite song...
The" DEVIL " Takes over the wrong....
Years and years passed by,
The cottage is still standing by,
But no pearl like beauty remains...
Only overgrown grass, and those age old blood stains....
A Nazi officer, finally renovated...
A beautiful bungalow, he created...
But those blood stains never vanished from the ground...
Who knew, the devil was soon to be found!!
His family finally shifted..
And Julie, his daughter, who was gifted...
With a voice like angel....she used to sing songs
And joy and harmony, was all around...
But that dark evening finally came,
When the sun was setting, drooping it's beauty,
Out was the officer, on his duty...
And now....the clock started its past game!
After the dark night, the morning arose,
Came in the officer, with a rose...
Julie came out....but with a change for sure...
But the officer had no clue, his daughter had no cure!!
Upstairs, the officer went,
Julie suddenly staring the ground...bent
And smiled like demon at those blood stains...
Which were now immense and fresh like the fresh rains....!!
The next morning the newspaper read...
' A nazi officer commits suicide, his body found on his bed....
And Julie (his daughter), bearing a deep cut on her throat...
Lies dead, with a dining fork and knife...near her bloody coat!!!
Tick tok, Tick tok...
To the present, comes the clock...
The cottage bell still rings!!
When Julie and the demon sings!!!!
~ Akshaya Baliga...!!
Based on a fictionalized situation and characters....holding a true history!!
Categories:
renovated, death, evil, gothic, history,
Form:
Ballad