Best Safekeeping Poems
Gold Dredging
Early morning first light
Camped on the rugged, mountainous terrain
Out of our warm sleeping bags and tent we crawl
To the smells of pine and clean fresh air of the mountain
Wood starts a sizzling, spitting, crackling campfire
For early morning hot coffee and a warm breakfast
I Dress in tee shirt and swim suit,
Hubby is in his wet suit
We walked down to the creek
Pull the dredge into the creek and get it started
When he hits bedrock where gold might be hiding
I stand beside the sleuth watching the
Gravel run over the riffles
I make sure the riffles stay clean
So the heavy gold
Will deposit behind them and on the mat
I see the flash of color and utter excitement
I yell, “We've hit gold,” impatient
With my tweezers and small jar
For safekeeping and
I keep on cleaning
When the day is done, tired, wet, and weary as a drowned rat
We clean the miners mat into a bucket
By the campfire we sit and pan our gold from the black sand
After the hard day’s work we undertook, it is wonderful
To see all the sparkling gold dust in my pan
The same warm excited feeling
I felt when my husband placed
My gold wedding band on my finger
12/27/2014
The poem is in conjunction with the video
Halloween Night
Enter the perfume curiosity shop
For the inquisitive
All perfume smells entwine
The aroma wakens the mind
Slowly binding into a smell to recollect
Take a swish before slumber
Don’t awaken as I enter
Cast a spell over your body
Pour you into my cast
Secure the lid for safekeeping
In my case of “must have” individuals
That crossed my doorstep
Looking for that pleasant exceptional aroma
On this Halloween night.
dear sister,
if I was more like you, I’d fight for your
memory,
cascade waves in oceans in honor of you-
maybe thoughts of your final farewell flood
through my mind because of how you left;
what happened after we spoke leaves my
lungs empty and my veins bled dry-
for yes, my sweet sister,
I’d fight for your memory…
if I was more like you
you knew not your plan would leave me
restless; year after year, seasons changing
slowly as I try to change what the world
thinks of you,
a weight too much to bear sometimes-
I bring sights of your smile at gatherings,
speak in honor of you (as if I were you)
hoping everyone could see you as I do…
(strong as ore, soft as snow)
so I decided to go to the site where you
took your final breath, hoping to reach
you once more-
(dreams don’t embrace like they used to)
surprised my eyes were when I came to
the bench we have in honor of you!
stuffed animals, trinkets, deflated balloons,
letters sealed in plastic so they don’t weather;
I lay orange stargazers down under the
pine tree and I left a laminated poem and
say a prayer of thanksgiving
for signs did awake-
angels did not forsake
I saw a sight of wonder and finally realized
I have fought for your memory after all-
for if not, then there would not be all this
affection for you;
as I drive by your site and see the white
cross almost half mile away,
I think of how you were until you weren’t
you anymore
but I know deep down I must see lilies
when I think of you,
make angels in the snow in winter;
plant lilies in my garden in spring
(just to be near you, my sister)
“many remember you as weak in the end,
they hold onto sights of you weeping,
while I wear your bracelet for safekeeping,
always wishing your heart I could mend"
(Love U)
317 words
August 8, 2019
Caren Krutsinger
"Suicide doesn't kill the pain-
it just passes it on to someone else"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
weeping from loss I emptied the ocean,
remembering each emotion
abandoned by devotion-
sights unseen by nude eyes shine,
forgetting your dear heart is divine-
please spread angel dust as a sign...
that you will be fine
ice falls down your cheek-
frozen like the air i breath
winter never knew her value,
for she is a season of loss
and o, those honey-hazel eyes
you wear-
once full of honeysuckle
brilliance,
now enveloped by thoughts
of your willow weeping,
your ebon pupils dilate-
(forever blinded by my affliction)
i gently tucked your laugh away
for safekeeping
lost in a landslide of non-forgotten
lachrymose moments
“reveries of safety try to flow,
but they've been sandbagged by pain and woe”
youthful lesions crawl with ease-
one pin prick to the heart is
enough to be lost inside what might
have been
searching for touches needing
to be touched,
longing to kiss the unkissable
craving to voice what’s unspeakable
shielding your innocence to fear not
what lied ahead-
(soul stolen by youthful demons)
the december rain is falling, and-
so are you
~three months later~
seems like a long time
but it’s been no time-
feels like a lifetime…
since you've gone
for i cannot live
with your need to swallow death-
sin of an angel
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Forms used:
Rhyme (AAABBBB), Verse, Couplet, Verse, Senryu
August 8, 2019
SOUL MATE
For you I will change my life.
Someday I will become more than just a wife.
Not every passerby means something.
Around you, my heart will jump and sing.
I will always be around, like an air balloon.
While your air blows away the gloom.
Even when we are mad, or the times I made you yell.
My heart is lock behind your midnight jail.
Despite the times, life does not go well.
I will always be your soul mate.
Our love is entwining with the best heart rate.
Your soul and my soul will entangle together.
Creating a tangle, that makes things better.
I will reach you in every level of your weather.
I need you to feel me in this poem or letter.
The fascinated kisses where meant to last forever.
My heart is torn with the thought, I am not suppose let go.
My fate was drawn out to meet you down by the "RIVER POE."
Where we connected fast with my pink and green flow.
With you I will dance around the fire "NAK*I*D!"
With no bad intentions that are wicked.
Store the innocence of them eyes for safekeeping.
I do not care about all those dots, which have you tripping
Down in Mandalay, where you are in a world of sleeping.
I will clone our dreams to retrace the smiles on my face.
The one dimension that collides us in to that special place.
I want to reach you when you are low.
Reaching farther than I could ever can go.
There for you’re my one true soul.
I will always be there for you with open arms.
A reality that does not come with harm.
We are each other’s destiny.
We will have a life pass eternity.
With you, our numbers exceed beyond infinity.
You are my one true soul mate.
No matter how long we both have to wait.
Our journey will never end.
I can choose to be just your friend.
However, you are the key to my empty space of lost faith.
Moreover, everything in me tells me you are my SOUL MATE!
By; P.D.
For; N.D.
Islam Burning
In deep purple flame
Stapled to the cross
While the peasants yell below
Demon demon demon
Black flags rise
Hearts fail to beat
Humanity has lost this score
The axe swings in the air
Freedom at last
From Islam’s beasts
My head tumbles into the dust
I am now an icon of the history I so loved
I am Khalid al-Asaad
Your humble servant of antiquity
Aug 19, 2015
In memory of Khalid al-Assad murdered by Islamic cowards.
Islamic State militants beheaded a renowned antiquities scholar in the ancient Syrian city of Palmyra and hung his mutilated body on a column in a main square of the historic site because he apparently refused to reveal where valuable artefacts had been moved for safekeeping.
According to Syrian state news agency Sana and the UK-based Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, Asaad was beheaded in front of dozens of people on Tuesday in a square outside the town’s museum. His body was then taken to Palmyra’s archaeological site and hung from one of the Roman columns.
“Al-Asaad was a treasure for Syria and the world,” his son-in-law, Khalil Hariri, told the Associated Press. “Why did they kill him? Their systematic campaign seeks to take us back into pre-history. But they will not succeed.”
Fair is this pristine earth upon which thou stands
With thy face t'ward the sun and mine heart held in thy hand
On many a day, I am a quiet river flowing
And I drink in thy laughter and windswept song
How the twinkles within thine eyes set ablaze mine soul
Thou art the sustenance which is required for life’s arduous toll
As thou breathest in air, I pray thee, inhale all of me
And place mine heart within thine for safekeeping with thee
~*~
02/01/13
Note: For The "Old English Valentine" Contest
Sponsored by Lisa Cooper Poetesslady
The corridor is darkly invasive
usurpation knows not where it steers,
my nightgown caught on wildfire,
ending was indubitably a flimsy inferno
dreaming phantasma went up in smoke
i was flying naked in my captured head,
blissfully feverish in comfortable suffering
chose not to wake as you prickled slumber,
whilst functionally violaceous pain screamed
taking flight to swap business dealings
i could have opted out, your gray reluctantly
presented within Pandora's key predicament,
contracts were sealed, sensed a lethal attraction
twisted mid your tongue tied transactional eyes,
you presented an untimely shiny gem,
was hungry for anybody with a flaw
we cozied up on a nonchalant sofa
underneath blankets of complexity,
shared a hot cuppa mocha java delusion
spiked with combustible confusion,
dripping havoc like beaten egg whites on crack
handed over lockbox to a transfixed universe
awoken to find the bomb had dropped,
missed wily antagonism & landed pon converted uppers
heeded being so high up amid gallerias' artfulness
titanic nightmare sank beneath three hours indifference,
the machine was out of order, swallowed another pill
spellbound hot air balloon was carried away for safekeeping,
all that was perceptibly audible were familiar Pink tracks on twisted breezes
'shine on you crazy diamond'
'Sorta delusional dreaming...'
Basking in the glory of yesterday can throw shade
on the duties of today.
Create a new fabric,be renewed,be refined
Be replenished
Old accomplishments
need be tucked away
In the safekeeping of darkness.
We meditate too long,on memories gone.
Basking in yesterday's glory
Yesterday's pain
is like a mother mourning
A dead child while ignoring the
Ones still living.
Its seems wiser to visit the past.
Returning to the future with relevance
Restoring lost arts.
"Old Technics "
Still require new thread.
Cloth left in the light too long will
Give into withering,fading and shredding.
Be about the work that now needs doing.
Royals of Emotions
As a confusing annoyance grew inside my head;
A silent torment stormed and throttled as I lay at night a mist my bed.
The old unforgivable and the new unforgettable;
Not noticing what's in front of you, beautiful, and what's pivotal.
Feeling of barriers and strong holds to ones' certain extents;
No completeness, broadness, and fulfillment, is this really a commitment.
I choose you as my hope, faith, and serenity;
In return, I, my love, you choose as your extremity.
When in the forthcoming, I am all you will have;
By your side as since day one and until time surpass.
The shadows of sorrow drown my willows of happiness;
Oh the irony of this unusual emotional overflow to grasp me so instantaneously.
Concerns of matters that doesn't relate to you;
They are the matter of matters that matter more than what should be of great value.
I am a person of strength and combative will;
The triumph over these mere feelings of indiscretions detaches.
As the breath that I breathe slowly dissipating;
The heart that beats beneath my flesh, is always under God's safekeeping.
So with every prayer I pray, I know and believe;
There's nothing in him that can't be revived and retrieved.
By: Tiffani N Leak
Once I saw the dark and cold night creeping,
slowly pushing out warm daylight seeping;
heard the blaring, hopeless sounds of sleeping
echoing despair’s sad, woeful weeping.
Felt the pain of fruitless daydreams heaping
deep inside my heart and soul now reaping
nighttime's empty stillness crying, keeping
silent tears within me forming, steeping.
Then I saw the morning sun safekeeping
warm and brilliant rays aglow now peeping.
Darkest ghosts of night were chased, sent leaping
from the hope of brand new day now sweeping.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Monorhyme Mania
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Judged: 08/29/2016
(Iambic Pentameter) 10 syllables per line, five feet per line
Feminine endings, (last syllable unstressed),
and first syllable stressed.
/ _ / _ / _ / _ / _
Could be any day now,
waiting for that last breath and a peek,
an opening, of glazed orbs once blue.
Wanting him to stay forever
even though his body laughs at me.
Each consuming cell eager for his parts;
each consuming cell seeking malice against him.
Time rips away
as cafeteria food tears apart my stomach.
I churn altogether with labored breaths we share –
One, two… three, four… neither of us ready.
I hunger for a smile from ragged ends of lips,
holding a crushed pastry in my hand and looking
on the first man I ever loved.
Down sterile hallways and up to floor three,
past gleaming instruments waiting for purchase,
where days ago he inched forward, struggled, bending,
working at leaving there –
Twists and pulls and penicillin and Jello.
“Getting out of here tomorrow.”
Yet room 3220 never released him.
Eighty-two years, some tattered, some fulfilled,
his face before an enchantment of warmth.
I kiss him and his cheeks dampen and he cannot hear me
because the whispers devour him in such a small room,
poised to yank grandfather away from me.
I yell, surprising myself, worried about his safekeeping.
And they tell me the angels’ surround him.
But I fear giving him over to strangers
and question everything then, right then,
while mourners touch him, all eyes able, all mouths perfunctory motions
Of grief and despair that only I should share with only him.
And these angels… are they good enough
to take his hands turning blue,
and his second-hand hearing aids?
At three a.m. I cringe at my own suspicions
and with the fifth breath I believe in that place, for him,
anything (even that) I will believe, for him.
His prayers are mine as long as the pain ceases,
though my angels are morphine and the twelve-hour shifts
of Margaret and Sam and Betty,
who have known him three days and call him “sweetheart”.
As he lay there sleeping in cool satin sheets embracing
I watch weeping, take note and listen , could have been Shakespeare
As he rolled to face me, moaned and muttered endearing words
every woman in love would have loved and cherished to hear
Holding my lips tightly, glean ,withholding for safekeeping
Murmurs in the darkness sweet nothings he thought was her ears
A child’s smile disappeared to sounds of mild snores and breathing
fire brewed a flush of red kept a calm look and dried my tears
1/18/2017
Part Two
Do you remember your run-up to the crease
your Lindwall-delivery dragging the clasping flannel round hobbled boots
your anger
at the wicket that went on a no-ball
Do you remember your opening bat
that snicked the runs to leg and off
which dozing umpires signalled as byes from pads
Do you remember Brigitte
her perky bobtail
her boucles of prancing hair
lances on her forehead
sickles on her verti-vir-ginous temples
Where are the bridges you have crossed
and those you had planned
and those you saw grow pebble by pylon and cementing stone
where the roads you laid
up virgin forest and limestone
Where indeed the buildings you repaired
erected
re-erected and razed
and the thousands and thousands of miles
you rode the wild seladang of the primeval jungle
hand on hump
with no stars in the paly night to guide you
through venomous blukar
and the boiling green torture
seared deep into your burning entrails
these that now have run out on you
Watch now how the river glues under your fuming stare
when the monsoon torrents sweep the knock-knee-ed pylons to a side
those dry as split-bark legs of yours
itching once too often in comforting company
though a little spindly for a Pied Piper
Yet you made the puppety Peninsula run
down drains and monsoon pipes
to a purge-full sea
Who is there now who wouldn't wake to your fits of irrupting gurgly merriment
to ease the tension
amongst unlikely fellows
Who who wouldn't miss your seething whiteheat glee
at his side
You who knew how to accompany Kay and Richard
up to the closed door of your last night
a very good night on your lips
Your opening bat's duty done
the side shored-up in safekeeping
the last fast breathless ball you faced
nicking the bails off
You needn't return to the pavilion
for the standing ovation goes on
for you Bala
long after the cloddy-stumps lie slain on the tiled floor
© T.Wignesan 1993 August 8, 1993 - Paris [from the collection: back to background material, 1993]
I noticed you standing and chatting there
your hazel eyes and brown tousled hair
your frame was tall and so strong
your age, well, yes you were young
You looked my way,we shared a smile
just stood and stared for quite a while
till somone came and touched my arm
I couldn't forget your boyish charm
The evening passed, you were still in view
sharing stolen glances, we had a few
my heart was racing, my mind in torment
I knew what I wanted, there was every intent
Then I lost sight of the man I was crazy for
I guessed you'd gone so I headed for the door
Fresh air and a clear head was waiting for me
Silly women to ever think of what could be.
I stepped onto the terrace, such a beautiful night
A velvety sky, full of stars sparkling so bright
then someone touched my arm, gently turned my face
It was you, my heart melted as I fell into your embrace.
I remember that night as if it were yesterday
passion and lust had their part to play
now as we lay entwined in our bed, I watch you sleeping
All these years, love and passion our safekeeping