Best Sculpturing Poems
grandma’s place
once a loving home
with so many fun things to do
my heart smiles
grandma’s hands
making beef and noodles
sculpturing pies
I salivate
grandma’s eyes
loving me in so many ways
grandma’s hugs.
Gulp.
someone else lives there now
grandma long gone.
it hurts me
Categories:
sculpturing, grandmother, grandparents,
Form:
Free verse
As far as the eye can see, thunder roars with such fury in the horizon.
Beneath the sea sculpturing deep tints and shades of blue, briny crystallizing.
The tide draws away and breathes its curse.
Articulating its exaltation moving force,
manifesting and mesmerizing.
Bout gaits end with the striking off sound.
Airborne when all four are off the ground.
Breeze laced through his mane with pride.
Feeling the cold embrace, he draws a breath with every stride.
As the rain caress, fire burns inside, free its soul bound.
7/20/2016
Rhyme AABBA AABBA
Two Stanzas - Two Only - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Categories:
sculpturing, beach, freedom, horse, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
Jack Frost, power over ice and snow
Appearing like a sinister mischief maker
Cold winter frosty, fern-like patterns you make on our close windows
Kissing the earth with your bitter brrr cold frolic, making our teeth chatter
Frost, ice, and snow you stir to life as your music is
Responsible for the shivers your frosty weather brings with each dance step you take
Obliging us with your artistic talent painting foliage red, yellow, brown, and orange
Sculpturing a dazzling, frozen, seductive wonderland of snow
Tantalizing us to retire around the radiant amber, warm crackling fire
11/27/2015
Poetry Contest Acrostic: Jack Frost
Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
sculpturing, winter,
Form:
Acrostic
Hideous cancer chisels away
With strange tragic sculpturing
And exposes dark flaws
heavy and black:
Inoperable, they say.
Ever present cigarette
Tenaciously supported
By shaking hand
and unfaltering need
Moved toward fried death
As wrenching cough spewed
Fire in weakened lungs.
A machine by the bed
Connected to tubes,
She wavers between
Sleep and reality
Fighting to hear
The voices around her.
Categories:
sculpturing, death, health, loss, cancer,
Form:
Blank verse
The wondrous nature of winter
The perfect delicious taste of winter
The mastermind of winter's touch
The secret I adore of the alluring beauty of
winter, like sister, I cherish.
Keeps reminding me of home:
The dry skinny wind blowing around
The sand dunes sculpturing and evolving like sound
The fresh, thin and welcoming air above
which in secret I ponder about
missing without doubt.
But it's the new home I now analyze in secret
Its impeccable measure and nature I devour
For answer and ladder to draw
I need to capture all this new creation
in secret, then share it in secret
A visitor and literature in my life
This is another special poem of mine because with it I won a poetry & short story contest in a college I went too.
Written 2006
Just the young thoughts of the young mind
Categories:
sculpturing, appreciation, weather, winter, ,
Form:
Personification
moving sea of green
mother nature’s artisan...
sculpturing coral
© Mar 25 2010
Placed 4 in Champagne Skies contest
Categories:
sculpturing, nature
Form:
Haiku
It's
a breeze-
sculpturing
grasses in the
park
Categories:
sculpturing, art, nature
Form:
Lanterne
Soft shadows,
slowly slide suspiciously,
sustaining shivers
shooting silently-
suggesting simultaneously,
surreal wind-blown,
wispy, wisteria wands
whispering wildly,
waltzing wonderfully-
while willfully
wagering, winged-wights wallow.
Slithering silhouettes
secretly stun-
surely, sculpturing spooky,
scary spirits-
showcasing swarthy,
spellbinding sprites.
Categories:
sculpturing, night, surreal, time,
Form:
Free verse
The day dawns on flaming sunburst sky,
gold-gilded wispy clouds glide slowly by,
spectrum of color on azure sea they pour,
silver lined waves spread pearls on shore.
Down the jade valley leaps the sparkling stream,
sculpturing rock ridge serenading in daydream,
dancing waters murmur on polished pebbles rolling,
listen to the distant music of verdant plains calling.
Seasons revolve in kaleidoscopic sublime spell,
draped in magnetic charm of nature unparallel.
The ember of autumn falls rustling on the meadow,
out of the winter frost buds bloom with surreal glow.
Sun from cyan sky shines on emerald forest canopy,
light and shade strips saunter by whispering tree.
Night falls silent sprinkling stardust on the thicket,
fireflies twinkle with the rhythmic chirp of cricket.
Supine spirit soars high with nature’s ethereal show,
on supernal stream of joy unbridled emotions flow.
The beautiful gift mankind received from the creator
floats on ripples of rapture on the tapestry of nature.
July 14, 2019
For Contest Finetune This Collaboration
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Categories:
sculpturing, beauty, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Storetry
(A story in rhyme)
By Franklin Price
5/14/2016
Storetry, a word I've coined
At least I think it's mine
The following's my first one
I hope you think it's fine
For years writers have written
Myriad poems that tell a tale
So many of them classics
From poets that we hail
Of war and travel, love and loss
Many subjects quite diverse
Many are novelistic
While others are quite terse
Many people of the world
Scandinavian, Latin, Greek
Have written their own Storetries
Take an interest, take a peek
There's something about poetry
That supersedes all prose
The rhyming, rhythm of the words
To take us where it goes
Weaving, painting, sculpturing
The phrases one by one
To make some sense and sound alike
Is interesting and fun
I'm ending now this Storetry
It is the first from me
I'm sure there's more to come along
You'll just have to wait to see
Categories:
sculpturing, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
My eyes glisten, as your presence fills them
inside my heart...Jumps
"Thump, Thump, Thump"
for you they dance, for loves beats rhythm
Love beats rhythm
Strong, powerful, with meaning
so crafted for us.
God's creation and His plan all along.
My hand grazes your beautiful face
My mind re-sculpturing a masterpiece,
as I marvel at you, a pure work of art.
"Mmph, Mmph, Mmph"
I just love your feel,your touch, your look.
Heart, your next
It's you he took
Gladly and openly, I place my heart next to yours,
as they beat as one.
"Bump, Bump, Bump"
Love sounds beyond good
It sounds....Real, kismet, and in sync.
I knew all along, for God, yes He did tell me
then yes he showed me.
Now he shows us.
Every wonderful day of our lives
I light up as you cross my vision.
Then when I see you in my mind,
heavens whispers...."Yes,yes,Yes"
My soul fuses your soul
Your soul fuses my soul
Our souls become one
"Shhh, Shhh, Hush"
Quiet pulses of rhythm
Music plays, hearts dance
Connection made!!
I see..... LOVE!!!!!!
Categories:
sculpturing, husband, marriage, tribute,
Form:
Between the Linen Sheets
A hundred strokes through her hair
Pastel satin ribbons lie cross her chair
Bridal bed is prepared in finest linens
Her sculpturing gown flatters the ribbons
Revealing her curvy silhouette of youth
Ready for their night of marital truth
Flaxen hair shines like a halo from the candles
Floating gardenia’s sit by her wedding sandals
Climbing into the marriage bed waits for her groom
He enters mesmerized by the fragrance in their room
Into his arm’s he holds her tight kissing her moist lips
Drunk by her purity, on her sweet tasting lips he sips
Colors of fuchsia fill the room as passion rises
Melting into his arms, she envisions Marseilles:
Ready to give her all to him they fall to the bed
Blowing out the candles, he realizes this was
“All in his head”
Carole Cookie Arnold
Categories:
sculpturing, romantic,
Form:
Rhyme
It does not work;
the manipulation of the fast.
The genomic fugitive
nurtures a home of light, windswept pyre.
Under the prophet
a gloom unloosens the absolute.
Now as you weave
a pattern of lies, the page hits.
The book is thrown into
fire. The words swim, break the grief
of naked sun. There
is flooding of wombs. Who will conceive a god ?
Between you and me,
a river flows. I become voiceless.
You cannot build a bridge.
The spinning curve outlines the shore.
Satish Verma
Categories:
sculpturing, art,
Form:
ABC
The writers of vers libre follow no structure,
it begins with an image in their head;
words imagining a picture,
and soon the creating will spread;
but it is not about telling a rambling story.
Yes, I am guilty of that- sorry,
it is fragmented lines- pauses to make us ponder with eyes starry;
yet, giving us some fury.
It is like painting or sculpturing a piece of art,
and finding words and stray phrases that touch the heart;
words wailing and whispering from the start till they depart,
like water slipping over stone;
that rest in their truth and whimper from the bone,
of dead and forgotten things that moan.
Write of shadows moving among us in the haze,
and like water flowing into a vase let thoughts fall;
words are like a mighty tree found in a maze.
and with vers libre one can utterly amaze or hit a stone wall.
Oh poets, just pick up your bleeding pen,
and wail a vers libre- create a shade of emotion gem;
I remind you- this writing of poetry is not a pastime but an art, amen.
(Or write a rhyming poem, like I did in the end.)
___________________________
November 25, 2018
Poetry/Rhyne/My Rant and Theory of Vers Libre
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1088-752-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Let 'Er' Rip #2
sponsor, John Lawless
Fourth Place
Categories:
sculpturing, poetry, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
The selfsame page echoes wordlessly like barren lord
To write in characters of light, Oh! bucket headed bard
Understand, art-like slumber must set-the soul free
Beyond time's fabric walls, in boundless circles waterski
Across the black besmeared realms of dreary night
Where passion cleaves darkness with fanged light.
Tread forth into the beauteous lustre of things
And hark, how sweet the drunken nightingale sings
Cheering languid Cynthia and the slow bursting bud
Oh! come empty bosomed lad
Let the primeval tongue of deft nature teach
You how to fold forms into voluptuous speech.
The sun through verdure fields has unrolled
His sweet placid beam of burning gold
And how gaily whispers the roaming scented wind
Blowing voluptuous strains pleasant than sevenfold lutes combined
Revealing to the dancing emerald leaves galore
Divine secrets hoarded in mediaeval days devoid of law.
When the throbbing heart of nature tunes the soul
Grand refined wisdom is your to attain
Which nor cognitive lore nor pedantic clouds of scroll
Can ever shower upon the mortal train.
Categories:
sculpturing, art, integrity,
Form:
Free verse