Best Sep Poems
Arising from bed this morning about half-past five, I was delighted once again to be greeted with a September morning. A hearty good morning to you, my beloved September. There are choice memories of you that I am compelled to consider. Not only was I born on a noonday in September, but the birth of Autumn also appears on the 22nd of September. And like the memory of 30 years ago when I first heard a song with September in its title*. I shall never forget the place and scenery when I heard the song. That song has become one of my favorites, and like you September, it's so refreshing and delightful each time I hear it.
The summer heat sometimes flows into you like an over-heated engine. Like today, in my area of the country, it's going to be 111 degrees. Nevertheless, there is still this mindset focused and filled with ''goodbyes'' to the century-plus temperature days and ''hello's" to Fahrenheit numbers on the downside.
My sweet September, I like to feel the gentle and tender roll of your name across my lips: Sep tem ber. And I love the soothing sounds of Sep tem ber flowing into my ears. You are like a bridge connecting two extremes. You bring the season of Autumn to separate 'heat from cold'.
I hasten to add that we have a dear friend named June who is most delightful and kind. There is no denying that July is a beautiful word. And what's not to like about a name like August? I suspect that the three summer months provide more sunshine and light up our world more than any other. But it's you, September, that I most adore; and I truly love you more.
written2017; PresentContest, Colorful Fall, Nayda Ivette Negron 09172018
Falling further into the darkness,
I am loosing all control.
The pain sets in and I can't breath,
they have taken over my soul.
Locked away from all reality,
surrounded by the shadows on the wall.
Spacing off, trying to figure it out,
I hear footsteps down the hall.
The footsteps suddenly stop at my door,
and the shadows disappear.
A man walks in with a disturbing tone,
but their voices I can still hear.
With nowhere to run, I stand my ground,
come and get me if you dare.
A quiet little chuckle and a smile on my face,
just to show you I don't care.
There is nothing left to take from me,
I gave it all away.
Just turn around and close the door,
I have nothing left to say.
There could never be another soul,
that would fully understand the enormous depths that I carry.
Everyday I live with chaos, with static, with a mess
and to have somebody go a day in my shoes could get a little scary.
Day to day I am faced with and pressured by,
the many inner demons residing in my head.
Causing such a power surge, I'm enjoying this rush,
I'm so full of rage, I see many shades of red.
Then, there's me at the other end of the spectrum,
the wild one, the crazy and the free.
Yes, sometimes I can be a little off my rocker per-say,
But who cant? You know what I mean.
I'm not "normal," nor will I ever be,
I have accepted that fact and moved onto something knew.
I am easily side tracked and thrown off course,
but every word I speak my seem crazy but it is always honest and true.
My mind is an overflowing pot of scrambled wrong and insane thoughts,
it is literally exploding at the seams.
Knotted inside, tied so tight,
I'm fighting to catch my breath, sometimes it can get that extreme.
Visions of red flash before my eyes & sometimes I can laugh it off,
in hopes that it will just disappear.
I promise it never does, it just consumes my body
and that's when the voices begin and then I hear.
I try to tune them out,
sometimes they are just to loud.
You will not get the best of me, I promise you,
I will shout it out to all of the biggest crowds.
Yes I have to take pills everyday
and I must conform to what society overseas as "acceptable behavior."
Sometimes I will play by the rules and other times I won't,
I've always wondered, Does my "Pass Go Card" ever expire?
I am who I am, I will always be true to myself,
honestly I'm not sure that I want to change.
I look at the world with my messed up views on life,
why would I want "normal," that idea just seems strange.
Dismissing evil and good
Upright and smiling he stood;
Materialistically modern in mood
Filled full with rationalist food;
Denying inherent sin
Liberally enlighten within.
Dismissing evil and good
Puffed-up self approving he stood
Pursuing illusory appeal
With academic assumptions so unreal;
Denying inherent sin
So liberally enlightened within.
Dismissing evil and good
All-seeing,all-knowing he stood;
An idealistic ego
Coupled his elitist credo
Denying inherent sin
Liberally enlightened within.
Until a September morn
When his teachings lay shattered
Tattered,torn and forlorn;
One fell blow sacrificed his sacred cow
Leaving him,his philosophy
Just nowhere to go.
A RESPONSE
(Written Sept 2001 ) Year Posted 2007
Minimalistic Ezra Pound
also wrote poetry most profound
but in his 'Station Metro' verse
he pared&pared to make it terse
Idaho's Ezra Pound
with Canto did astound
He began as an imagist theorist
with the genre did not persist
Faith,hope and charity
each positives, to me
and essential,as can be
The first,a gift from God
with agape,for free
the other as certain as can be
.....try them,each one,is for thee
A short address to the moon ,our ever present nightly companion expressing the ' wistful wonderin' that has occupied many a poet (here its the famous Percy B) ,song writer & ordinary mortal like you & I
WHY AMERICAN COLONIES WERE LOST a lyrical local guide by US PoetrySoup poet is
Massey's outstanding sonnet poetry piece (second of the series) penned in the cross genre 'literary poetics ' follows in the footsteps of ground - breakingauthor Martin Gray,but extending it structurally ,beyond iambic trimeter ,thus bringing into play both rhyme&sonnet syllabics.
A 160 page poem with15 chapters ,each with a historic background intro) The poem has the dual bonus of being for loversof the combination of both poetry&history .
rhythmic reading restively reflectorise restorative respite
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • September 7–13, 2026)
A MEMORY
hope
I now
remember
that late summer
gold
To Elizbeth Barrett Browning
invalidity from riding did bring
Putting aside this tragic hurt
she elope to marry her Robert
Her Petrachan sonnet we see
an abba abba then cdecde
A sestet follows the octave
a love poesy we all crave
twin souls was her song
heart to heart,all the day long
The art of creating a visual response to a piece of writing is known as a reverse ekphrasis ie the inverse of the centuries old poetic form of ekphrasis.
The most well known example being Charles Demuth 'Figure 5' based upon a W C Williams Poem.(see link in notes above)
EMAGI is a recent (fun) variation of a reverse ekphrasis derived by the advent of the widespread use of hand held digital communication devices -where words in digital symbols /letters can be represented as a shape
and uses a poet's poem to inspire the digitised 'drawing'
and an EMAGI as entered Sep 14 in this weeks VISUAL POETRY STUDIO
Wallace Stevens Valley Candle
~
~
~
~
(?)
| |
| |
| | //°
=====
The art of creating a visual response to a piece of writing is known as a reverse ekphrasis ie the inverse of the centuries old poetic form of ekphrasis.
The most well known example being Charles Demuth 'Figure 5' based upon a W C Williams Poem.(see link in notes above)
EMAGI is a recent (fun) variation of a reverse ekphrasis derived by the advent of the widespread use of hand held digital communication devices -where words in digital symbols /letters can be represented as a shape
and uses a poet's poem to inspire the digitised 'drawing'
and an EMAGI as entered Sep 7 in this weeks VISUAL POETRY STUDIO
Wallace Stevens'ICE CREAM' a 99
//
( )
---
\ /
\ /
\/
COMPASS POINTS
I wander
into the blue
the height
of late summer
Fall's journey around
the corner
I sit & wonder
Alice Walker,famed novelist of Cloured Purple with this nineteen lined 'The Old Men Used to Sing' evokes a childhood memory 'conversational styled poem' using two or three words short staccato sentences