Best Sentiments Poems
Do not turn back and think of me
When you can't physically touch me
When you still haven't found your lonely words
to show me the many ways that you have loved me
(if you ever did )
Let me get lost ,not to be found
Let me be gone, carried away
like a life-boat at sea that never made it to the shore
Let me be forgotten,never to be remembered
Let the running tide choke me
Let it take my breath before I can breathe
to inhale salt air, and walk again on scorching sands
Let it take my breath before hallucations take over
and make me smell the wafting scents of cocounut,
our shared ice -cream , and sun -soaked years.
May total eclipse come soon to cover this night
and many nights still yet to follow
So these eyes would not seek your eyes
Oh, those eyes ,a book of thousand stars
Glistening stars ,falling stars,wishing stars
that keep on fading , fading into nothingness
Nothingness that steals the joy of many rainbows
Rainbows that once splashed against our lighthouse,
their pastel hues on sepia paths.
Do not turn back , do not look back and think of me
It is too late to come , it is too late to hold my hand
And if the memory remains ,make new beginnings
So that tomorrow , you will not fail to lock our history
So you will succeed to seperate the living from the dead.
Fiction poem inspired by a Bruno Mars' song - 'When I was your man '
Worn limbs creak like tomb's ancient doors
Jumping from youth to old age with lightning's shock
Kind mirrors with mounting dust blur lines
Leaping into my shopping cart are restorative skin creams
Before gremlins make off with them, memories visit briefly
…What was it I was trying to say?
February 18, 2019
For Nina's "Reflect That Emotion" Contest
The birds understand us, it’s true,
They understand us better than men,
Observe the grey heron when it is afraid,
listen to the Robin
Who asks to play with you,
Go for the lint
She doesn’t want any wrong notes,
The birds understand us,
The thief has always known you,
She knows how far to go,
They understand us better than our ministers,
Better than the gendarmes to guard you,
They understand us better than the bakers
too busy making croissants in the morning,
The birds understand us,
listen to the duck, who chooses beautiful oranges,
listen to the Blackbird,
who whistles when you are depressed,
When you think of Martine or Marie Noëlle,
listen to these dear birds,
They interfere with what you think,
They are wary of alley cats, domestic cats
They are suspicious of everything, of the time that passes slowly,
They guess your dreams, your fantasies,
They have nothing to lose by watching you,
Let them speak to you of God, of Bonaparte,
The idea of lying never crosses their mind,
They understand you better than psychiatrists,
They know what you think,
let them, they have a thousand things to say
Let them sing the coming of spring.
NB When I go for a walk a little before dawn, the singing of birds is like a medicine, it gets rid of the physical and moral heaviness, due to sleep.
Sentiments of Love
Our passion defines two loves now as one,
And what we share now is life’s great treasure!
Our emotions My Love burn hotter than any sun,
Ensuring that our rapture as two is such a pleasure,
And that a love so grand is truly beyond any measure!
When we stroll together—and talk, embrace, and kiss;
It’s like being in Heaven—something never to miss!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
May 9, 2015 (Rhyme Royal)
*Originally released in my new book of February 19, 2015.
Sentiments of A Woman
Everyone has sentiments, we all know that, but a
woman's sentiments are sometimes hidden. She
can pretend to be happy, when she is really blue.
A woman's sentiments are very deep, within her
heart and soul. She can hide her feelings very well.
You can not tell, by looking at her - how much love,
or pain she has endured.
A woman has to be strong, like a super woman. She
has to pretend that eveerything is alright - when it's not.
She does all this for her family. At night when she lays her
head on the pillow - she cries. She prays and thanks God
for letting her get through one more day....
02/15/2014
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
Drink while alive
Leave your thrive, drink
Man's life is short
Hard work brings ache
Cold beers break stress
Pal, make your choice
Time's wing flies by
You work die-hard
We try drink well
When death arrives
When all drives cease
Whose lives well lived?
Author: Joseph Osita
For Dr Ram's 'Than Bauk contest'
As fishes wriggling
The entirety of their slippery bodies
In vast oceans, lost in the glory of waters
Instincts meander
Their way through to the mind
In a pool of imagined Sensuality
With wanton desires
A longing for the temporal
Poignantly stands erect
In the throne-room of man's emotions
Motioning with a seemingly motionless demeanor
Unfulfilled cravings
Cradles persistence
In his goal oriented pursuits
Thoughts are repressed
Mental imageries suppressed
To pave way for domination
Of pleasantly positive feelings
Yet the uncouth lingers
Occasionally engages the enthroned
In scrimmages in their bid to dethrone them
Man holds the prerogative
To serve either of them willingly
Equally, man possess all it takes to be
Heinously hedonistic
And heartily attractive in personality
To please society
None can reach complete perfection
At both extremities
© Seth Boss Kay @ 19/10/2013
Emotions, emotions, I’m going through the motion,
to feel your love that stirs a commotion.
Elations, elations, what a sensation,
it feels so good to be your agitation.
Sensations, sensations, we made an obligation,
to tie the knot on this day, then we will have a celebration.
Relations, relations, a consummation in the making.
When can I start to the feel your warm stimulation?
What a revelation to have emotions that give us some elation.
Then we will feel the sensations, from having sweet relations.
(Dictated in the final moments to her son)
(She speaks to her executionists in between her sentiments)
I smashed my bare knuckles upon your painted truths
“No, no visitors.”
Understanding the recklessness of your youth
I went to prison just so you wouldn’t go
“No, no H2O.”
You couldn’t take it, didn’t I tell you so?
At fourteen, you killed three, then gave me the gun
“No, no club soda.”
I put my fingers over yours, everyone
Knowing your sugar coatings would crack apart
“No, no clergymen.”
I covered all your explanations with my heart
I found rivers that held your tears of regret
“No, no family.”
Flowing like loans from someone like me, in debt
Many times I caught you before you hit ground
“No, no Mickey D’s.”
Supported you; every time you turned around
Whether right or wrong, I swore I’d pay the price
“No, no magazine.”
I defended you, I was your sacrifice
I saved you from a curse, of living peril
“No, no Psalms prayer.”
Dodging bullets from drive by gangs in feral
Hearts always have ability to forgive
“No, no cell phone calls.”
Whatever torture you chose, was mine to live
I forgive you, for not visiting, I swear
“No, I am guilty.”
Love your Mother, the final time, from “the Chair.”
Fiction
~~~~Submitted for the contest... "Love and Forgiveness” sponsored by Jim Fish~~~~
The petals rains on me,
Smothering the blemishes on my skin.
An idyllic red bleeds to a crimson shade,
And my heart feels it once more,
Withered by my sentiments.
In the midst of reds and yellows,
Hands held out in a field of shadows.
Swirling in the echoes of a laughter,
Running away,
Chasing for the scent of a rose.
They said a prayer would stop the pricking,
Should I choose to hold on to a rose.
To embrace a memory made of thorns,
To linger on the pathway of forlorn,
And enjoy the moment of my fall.
But, a piano starts to resound in the heart,
And a tone of darkness blends in with the lies.
Its taunting melody sings of him,
While his memory turned its back on me,
The withering rose starts to cry alone.
What’s left of me is lost in you,
But I can’t find you.
Saturate me sweetheart, sweet smiles shall be seen-
Skin to skin sated in slow songs sung with safety.
Show shores of sand sparing storms from smoke,
solitude shall sever, seized shall be sinister shade.
See the sunset shine with sharp showers of splendor,
sparkling stardust shall shimmer in the skyline that
sheen summits sit upon seeking only silver silence.
Stretch our supreme satisfaction of sensuality, speak
syllables of seamless sympathy when sadness stuns
my struggle without superior strength. Stimulate my
senses with seasons of Spring and Summer, seeking
sincerity and suitable symmetry. Soar with strong
sanctification, sowing seeds of spiritual sublime, and
serene souls shall spark. Your solicitude sends sunbeams
down my spine.
Savor me, sweetheart; stay sovereign and still-
saturate me, sweetheart...so sensitive sentiments can shrill.
Date written: March 26, 2019
Sensing your nostalgic angst,
I’m gripped with sentimental reminiscences
transcending melancholic predicaments
of yesterdays' significant moments
along crossroads' decisions*
yet beckoning past decades’ jubilation-mirth
in loving relationships wrought by the Lord---
Here am I, your photo album, offering you
my gracious cathartic assistance
amidst the soothing therapy
of radiant flashback scenes
freely allowing you to shed tears
and, or beam with exuberant glee---
Keep me serving
as your steadfast knocker of memory**
when oblivion attempts to prevail in your mind
despite your heart’s defiance.
*Joel 3:14 Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision: for the day of the LORD is near in the valley of decision.
**Psalm 145:7 They shall abundantly utter the memory of thy great goodness, and shall sing of thy righteousness.
September 6, 2019
Edited on September 19, 2019
2nd place, "Crossroads" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 9/22/2019.
this task to write thee (whom papa dust envy) difficult,
though aye selflessly assigned
thy beautiful daughter, whose sunny countenance
doth doubly (even donning sunglasses) blind
how charming, fixating, intoxicating...
as if an exquisite meal I dined
and lack of summoning chutzpah,
foie grassy us joie de vivre,
a handsome lad will inevitably find
cuz, a profuse heart wrenching
envious emotions seemed to sneak up from be hind
and said metaphorical sparring resulted
in figurative sadness with deep grooves a lined
the contours of my entire corporeal flesh and bone,
but tis no intent, casting darkness,
where your ecstasy under mind
my existence appears so bland opined
from this papa, whose aspiration
to peal back cerebral rind
doth spur only positive words
(courtesy of shari, andy, marleigh...)
a gordian knot within me gets en twined
to explore places far and wide
as planet earth doth wind
around the sun - millions of years from now
twill become resigned.
Mellow music and a lark's sweet song ~
My memories recall devout days of
lasting love and tender thoughts.
No wistful weeping or trickling tears
slowly shed with dire dread
free fall from my expressive eyes.
I've been blessed with a happy heart.
May 15, 2023
Alliterisen Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Painted were her eyes,
Somewhat azure and syphilitic, her heart;
And when I got home I realized,
I'd just fallen in love with a tart(!)