Best Reposting Poems
A Birthday Poem For My Very Special Friend
(This is also composed for my dear friend, PD)
Your birthday is indeed a great time of gaiety,
It calls for a celebration, a Grand Poetic Party
But, what I have just said is only a secondary
Most importantly, your life is great and healthy.
I am writing this poem first and foremost,
To send my love and best wishes to the most
For all the dreams of yours, let’s make a toast
May they all be fulfilled without any cost.
Since, I don’t have here your complete address,
I cannot send you chocolates, cakes or roses
So, I’ll just send my fervent prayer for success
To God, He may protect you, guide you and bless.
I will also enclose in these lines of my poem,
My songs of bliss for you and your family at home,
May you be free from all worries and gloom
Age added but, you’re a gal who incessantly bloom.
My dearest friend Linda, have a very happy birthday,
If you are only here, I’ll dance with you today,
Like a lady on her debut on the 18th Natal Day
You’re our Grand Celebrity in ‘tis Land of Poetry.
Note:
(Reposting)
This will be my advance Happy, Happy Birthday Poem to my DEAREST friend and CO-LIBRAN on the Soup, LINDA or PD. Three days from now will already be her BIRTHDAY MONTH. I AM SO EXCITED AND I AM LOOKING FORWARD FOR THE DATE, OCT. 7. Honestly, THIS POEM WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN FOR HER BECAUSE I KNOW HER MORE AND SHE ACTUALLY HAS GIVEN ME THE INSPIRATION TO WRITE A BIRTHDAY POEM FOR THE CONTEST !!ADVANCE HAPPY, HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DEAREST FRIEND!!! Love yah!
Written: Sept. 25,2012
Categories:
reposting, birthday, dedication, friend, friendship,
Form:
Rhyme
Behind my smile
you cannot see the tears
between the lines
you cannot read my fears
in funny rhymes
you cannot feel my pain
in haughty words
you cannot taste the shame
in what I post
you cannot feel the beat
in pics I share
you cannot feel the heat
in what I say
you cannot hear my cries
in what I gift
you cannot see but lies
You cannot see
what lies within my heart
You think you know
but you see just a part
There's more to me
than simple scribbled lines
There’s heart and soul,
A life beyond confines
Eileen Manassian
One of my deleted poems....There was a time I was contemplating leaving the Soup because of some hurtful events, and so I deleted some of my poems after I had saved them. My poems on this site are the truest copies because sometimes I edit while post. Unfortunately, hurtful things continue to happen, but I've been gifted a Lifetime membership by my dear friend Flo, and I'm not leaving. I'm slowly reposting some of those deleted writes. :) Thank you for reading...
Categories:
reposting, how i feel, identity,
Form:
Rhyme
He's a WORD Casanova
He butters them up
Gives sips from his cup
words syrupy sweet
a tasty love treat
makes the girls swoon
to his sensual croon
The Word Casanova
His words are his charm
they dismantle alarm
“sugar and spice”
and they gush..."OH…SO... NICE!"
Demanding submission
to his domination
He metes out a rule
and watches them drool
The Word Casanova
The thing that's obscene
In his plan, in his scheme
He plays and he preys
as his trap there he lays
he wants every one
each heart must be won
Not content to befriend
Wants much more in the end...
The Word Casanova
So he hurts and he maims
And they writhe as he blames...
Ladies….LADIES!!
It's just a game...a GAME
What a shame!
The Word Casanova
This is a poem I wrote some time ago but deleted when I was considering leaving this place. I'm slowly reposting my deleted poems. I'm fully aware that a woman can play this role as well....a Casanovette! It is not gender specific
Categories:
reposting, words, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
***I am reposting this poem as I think it is my finest poetic creation. I feel the imagery of the piece and its 'fabled' characters are cohesive to create a positive environment that reflects the star's light of hope; the 3rd stanza and the poem's final lines provide a natural summation of metaphysical realities that incur from human emotion and suggests that we all come from the same mold and thus we are not the cause of ourselves; 'a theistic natural priori in the belief of God through the poetic endeavour.'
I awoke to find the tall splendor of the world,
in those cosmic canyons,
shearing darkness ----
in the pallet of some ethereal night;
ancient with desire.....
to Illume the thick shadow of hades itself
Not death nor mortal doubt
couldst thou flee from me,
mighty as Aphrodite ----
Shooting thy silver smile
beautiful as heaven's promise!
In your shimmering I see hope,
for the heart which beholds thy majesty
the world could fade,
yet you remain.....
a friendly face if none should be found,
but you.....
that thou Creator dost reveal;
my soul,
ageless as thee
(am spun from the same loom)
Categories:
reposting, creation, god, hope, life,
Form:
Classicism
He beat upon his breast
As he fell to the ground
Mumbled words escaping
Heart's pain formed into sound
“Please…Forgive me, oh Lord
I am so full of sin
This wretched game of life
Alone…I cannot win
I’ve cheated; I’ve lusted
I’ve inflicted abuse
Dear God…I clearly see
To you…I’m of no use
“Forgive... God…oh, forgive…”
His beard soaked up his tears
As gut wrenching sob
Gave voice to all his fears
The “righteous” man just watched
His pride filling the place
“I thank God, heaven’s light
Is shining on MY face.
Lord, you know my good deeds
I help the poor in need
I gladly give my tithe
For Lord, I have no greed
Oh Lord, I’m not like him
That poor man on his knees
I’m glad I can stand tall
For I live life YOU to please.”
On sinner and not “saint”
The good Lord’s blessing fell
He needed to be saved
Enter heaven and not hell
The other felt holy
Justified in his eyes
The Bible makes it clear
His "righteousness" was lies
A lesson comes to us
About the sin of pride
People who are humble
In heaven will reside
So be kind and gracious
Remember your true place
For the humble in heart
Will live to see God's face.
Jade Celeste
I'm going through my older writes and reading posts left by friends. :) It is like reading a journal and reliving lovely memories. This is a poem I posted a long time ago, and I'm reposting it now. I feel that I need to learn this lesson. We get hurt when our pride is touched, but who are we to be proud? We are finite and God is infinite. We all make mistakes, and we should forgive one another. We sometimes see others sins and are blind to our own...as in this story recorded in the Bible. I'm willing to learn. Christ was humble enough to wash the feet of His disciples...even the feet of his betrayer. Who am I to do otherwise. I need forgiveness...
Categories:
reposting, allegory, bible, truth,
Form:
Quatrain
To subdue passion and to veil her soul
She dresses cravings sweet in bland disguise
A righteous life to live does take its toll
And brings the tears unbidden to her eyes
A woman bowing down to culture’s norm
Must be demure and coy, not fierce and bold
Forbidden her desire in wanton form
And so the flame dies out and life turns cold
Yet deep within her heart the embers lie
Their savage smolder felt through tortured night
Her sensuality she must deny
Though from her play and sway it shines out bright
Her soul succumbs to this hypocrisy
A woman vowed to "moral" chastity
Eileen Manassian
In parts of the Middle East young girls are still circumcised to prevent sensual cravings....I've written a poem about this for Richard Lamoureux's contest a while back. His contest was entitled, Girl Rising...and my poem was entitled, "Not too Late for Tears." This poem was written for another contest, but I did not enter it. I deleted it and am now reposting. It makes me sad when people don't understand the restrictions woman face due to culture and other factors when it comes to issues of their own sensuality. I wish people would be more understanding.
Categories:
reposting, truth, woman,
Form:
Sonnet
I sit at my table - I sip onion soup
It's good for my cough - bad case of the croup
I could do with a meal and something to sup
But the bar is now closed - the buffet locked up
The dry glass of flowers long started to wither
I yell for the waiter to make him run hither
The air con is broken I tell the garçon
It needs a regas - kindly put the fan on
Feeling light headed - the air closely stifles
I open my backpack and check on my rifle
I take out my weapon - look into the muzzle
The waiter just hoofs it - he answers this puzzle
He returns with a bottle and drinking glassware
A plate of moule-frites with some haricot vert
A slice of French brie in a fresh French baguette
And a royal dessert - an ice cream coronet
I pick up my glass of cool German hock
With fake deference I fake tug my forelock
He takes from his apron some pen and some paper
He's taking a poll - so how was your waiter?
I've gone four lines over - the limit I'm hitting
But hang on a second - this might not be fitting
And where are the horses in this French venue?
With snails and frog leggies - they're on the menu
Uses (sort of) the following words (in bold): muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll, croup, gaskin, frog, hoof and coronet.
What on Earth inspired me
In life when I have to compete
I'm sometimes a little offbeat
This time I split words
Used meanings absurd
And wrote about menued horse meat
Reposting date: November 6th 2016
This contest: Take the dagger from my heart please - 3
Original contest: Horses
Original contest finalised: October 30th 2016
Categories:
reposting, funny, horse, humor, humorous,
Form:
Verse
I formed the poet to be my clay pen
To dance on the pin tip of my understanding
I delight in words
All things came into existance through my words
The planets
The stars
The moon
The sun
The universes beyond what you can see
They are tethered by my imagination
I am a God of order
I delight in repetition
My ways are perfect
What you see a chaos, fits perfectly into my plans
I occupy all the spaces
I exist within each breath
My energy flows from beginning to end and back again
I allow you to glimpse my shadow
For my full Glory would consume your human form
I am beyond your comprehension
Yet I wish you to know me
Ponder me
Come into my loving arms
My words are written on ancient scrolls
Each verse contains my essence
My invitation to a wondorous feast
Taste the succulence of my bounty
The flavours my affection
My consummate Love
Do not be concerned with the temporary
Trust in my grace
For I know all your needs
This world will one day disappear
Paradise will reside under your feet
I will be your completion
Dancing will have new meaning
Rivers will sparkle like diamonds
The skies will no longer need the sun
For I will be your light
We will walk through a new Jerusalem
Streets of gold
Buildings encrusted in precious gems
Trees will be laden with fruit
No hunger
No tears
My children will know freedom
Strength will course through veins
Angels will walk in their midsts
Age will no longer be their enemy
Death will be a forgotten memory
For I am God
My words
My poetry
They can be your reality
Make use of your free will
I am bound by my own promises
You must choose my path
Be a vessel of my Love
You my clay pen
Can flow
With golden ink
For this contest I am asked to write from the perspective of God.
It is an insurmountable task for one as limited as myself. I humbly
submit this attempt and pray that it honors my heavenly Father.
I am reposting this one after reading Miraj's excellent piece "His Way".
Categories:
reposting, celebration, god, perspective, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Earth of gray,
Something dreadful on the horizon looms.
There is no black and no white today,
Laws exist but justice is doomed.
Morality is labeled religion,
And must be separated from state,
Whose own religion is political correctness
And determining God's fate.
Oh heaven rain down on us,
We are tasting your tears.
Yes we've become that bad,
Confirming your fears,
That what has been done ,
is being done again,
Those lessons taught,
coming to naught.
Judges and laws make it legal,
to be rid of your innocent babes,
Under a symbol of the eagle,
God's loving justice betrayed.
Racheal you cry the tears,
that now only heaven supplies,
because ours have dried,
In the dust of our alibies.
Excuses and lies are linked,
As you and I know well,
The truth is all but extinct.
Truth is foreign to hell.
Oh heaven, look down on this world of gray.
Something dreadful is watching and looms.
Is there nothing left but to watch and pray,
While Rachael wails by the dumpster tombs?
Categories:
reposting, loss, love, heaven, heaven,
Form:
Rhyme
Note this poem was written some time ago but I was sick and deleted my site. I have been patiently reposting my poems since 9 October 2000.
On November 13, 2002. The Prestige, one of twelve tanks burst during a storm off Galicia, in northwestern Spain. No help was forthcoming and by November 19, the ship split in half. 20 million gallons were spilled into the sea.
Beneath the heavy dark clouds,
the storm broke.
An oil-filled tanker sank
spewing black lakes of murderous slime.
What a giant "Prestige"!
Despite the roar of untamed waves
there was a deadly hush over the ocean.
A low death knell sang a purgatory of pain,
as contaminated birds of gulls, orioles, kestrels
squawked their last dirge:
What a giant "Prestige"!
Too late men stretched their ingenuity,
a desire to save and spare
the livelihood of so many families
that sailed the oil-spilled seas,
where baby dead fish dotted the surface,
sands and rocks tainted with death.
Elsewhere engineers burned their chemical gases
and smoke escaped from the earth's fragile shell.
We all have our "Prestige"!
Written 2016
Categories:
reposting, abuse, pollution,
Form:
Free verse
when under your wings
my heart was safe and secure ~*~
why did they unfold?
Eileen Manassian
Another one of my deleted poems....Reposting. :) I really like the picture that goes with this one.
Categories:
reposting, love hurts,
Form:
Senryu
My unusual physical appearance
Was enhanced by a striking thinness,
And enormous long-lashed blue eyes.
Less charmingly, I was also the kind of
Deliberately malicious little hooligan
Who'd remove some periodical
From a neighbour's letter-box
And then mutilate it before reposting it.
The sixties' famed social and sexual revolution
Was well under way, and yet for all that,
Seminal Pop groups such as the Searchers
And the Dave Clark Five;
Even the Fab Four themselves,
Were quaintly wholesome figures.
And in comparison to what was to come,
They surely fitted in well
In a long vanished England
Of Norman Wisdom pictures;
And the well-spoken presenters
Of the BBC Home Service,
Light Service and World Service,
Of coppers and tanners
And ten bob notes;
And jolly shopkeepers
And window cleaners.
At least that's how I see it,
Looking back at it all
From almost half a century later.
Categories:
reposting, childhood, culture, history, london,
Form:
Free verse
an earlier draft of this barely satisfactory missive ex post facto, i chomped asper with upper dentures upon evincing a couple of typographical errors, in up rye or draft, and did not wanna dodge being a spell bound stickler for typing words correctly.
though no obligation to trot out this fixation sans zero misspelling tolerance, a compulsion with any concomitant obsession found me reposting before a repast of dessert - so there Ghost of Marie Antoinette, wherever you might be hiding - i can have my cake and eat it too!
Minus trimmings and over stuffed ego freezers,
but altruism, civility, Dharma bum ethnocentrism,
gratuitous homogeneous internationalism,
karma mosaic opportunism, quitessential righteousness,
unpretentious vivacious wide world yipping,
brouhaha dutifully emphasizing friendliness,
antithetically booing critical, popularly pugnacious
spoiled trump petting uber western yikyak,
zealous antipathy craving everything.
---------------------------------------------------------
a hypothetical, mental, rhetorical thought question
occurred to me just moments ago
sans, milk of human kindness bubbles frothily
upon major American holiday,
whereat figurative bro
thar and sisters exhibit philanthropic
good-samaritan charitable ambitions
especially, towards indigent that crow
for bare necessities
other than
when Thanksgiving rolls around, and dough
nuts to dollars even most frugal misanthropes
play feigned charitable card egoistically glow
with ambient benevolence, civility,
diligent energy, and friendly hello
and sundry pleasant greetings
hook hood be some
soon tubby rich entrepreneurial stranger
ready to make shares available vis a vis IPO
Categories:
reposting, culture, food, house, joy,
Form:
Epic
As You Have Your Cup Of Joe, Each New Morn
As you have your cup of Joe, each new morn
Think of Life as dawn in glory is born
See those gleaming rays sun casts in its glow
For this world does daily its splendor show.
If you want more, try to hear birds singing
For Mother Nature her gift is bringing
Greater joy and beauty that pleases man
As was true call within God's divine plan.
As day flows forth with their many treasures
Consider Love's gifts, life's deepest pleasures
Under soft moon and with her heart so true
Give thanks for sweet kisses as they accrue.
As you have your cup of Joe, each new morn.
Think of Life as dawn in glory is born.
Robert J. Lindley, 9-29-2019
Sonnet, ( Early Morn, Drinking Coffee, Watching The Birds Play )
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2019
Note
Reposting this poem that has somehow disappeared from this site.
As luck would have it I had copied it at another site and even copied the comments made about it..
Went to this site checked -it was gone!
I did not delete it!
Do we have gremlins here?????
I have proof of this at my other site where I presented it with the comments made about it.
This same thing has happened a few times before with other poems disappearing- poems that I had not presented elsewhere.
Very strange indeed....
Categories:
reposting, appreciation, art, creation, drink,
Form:
Sonnet
the undercurrent pulls
drawing me down
to murky dark depths
where sinister abounds
the undercurrent pulls
my body it sweeps
pulling my out
its anger it keeps
the undercurrent draws
a turbulent tempt
it tumbles my heart
with vehement intent
the undercurrent rages
But I'm sturdy and strong
adept in the water
for that's where I belong
the undercurrent subsides
I'm floating serene
my eyes see the sun
I still live, I still dream
Eileen Manassian
Reposting another deleted poem....
Categories:
reposting, bullying, psychological,
Form:
Rhyme