Best Set Down Poems
Early rain falls gently
like your fingers
running softly through my hair
in our cabin down the valley
The wind breathes lightly
like your lips
treading kisses on my neck
as I keep humming merrily
Crimson poppies bow in silence
whilst I walk down the lane
I cross over the bridge
to cross over again
I watch the Tuscan sun
set down beyond the prairie
I dance in verdant fields
where once met a pink fairy
With eyes full of love
I follow fluttering wings of tiny fire-flies
which glistens in night sky
like little lantern lights
I pass through fragrant vineyards
which pour perfumes of wine
I walk distance and moments
in memory of time
I hold on to a star
which leads me somewhere far
to cobbled winding streets
to wherever you are
To the end of glowing moons
to the still sound of your cry
to a forgotten kite
which keeps freedom
soaring high
To the well of your thoughts
to that soft tender part
to the cascading passion
in the alley of your heart.
How high the bar that makes a poet Real!
(He walks in mists, and shadows of himself)
To be a poet, is to burn with steel
Set short time in the forge, the lesser self!
He brands his heart with fiery words, set down
And burns his mind with thinking, ‘til it glows,
He hopes, of sonnets, his will be the Crown,
And hopes that all the brilliance of light, shows!
But, oftener, he writes a humble piece,
A few words cramped into a simple form,
But somehow, in his feelings, a release!
Yes, humble-bumble often is the norm.
And that high bar, he reaches seldom, and
Leaves barefoot footprints in the fruity sand.
2/20/2019
Early rain falls gently
like his fingers running softly
through her tousled hair
The wind breathes lightly
like his lips treading velvets
on her cheek,along her neck
and across her peach-creamed skin so fair
She dances,she sings
by the cabin down the valley
She feeds little birds
and keeps on humming merrily
Pansies sway in silence
as she walks down the lane
She strolls over the bridge
then cross it back again
She watches the Tuscan sun
set down beyond the prarie
She lays in verdant fields
and dreams of the lost fairy
With noisette eyes so full of love
She follows fluttering wings
of tiny fire-flies
which glisten in night sky
like little lantern lights
Through fragrant vine-yards She runs
and tastes blushed-scents of wine
She journeys through distance
through moments,n memory of time
She holds on to a star
to the edge of glowing moons
She reaches the oasis
beyond the desert dunes
She reaches to the dark woods
to the still sound of his cry
She let hm see her magic
where freedom's kite soar high
She enters in the universe
of his thoughts soft 'tender part
to the cascading passion
in the alley of his heart
The trip was a riot of color,
It brings a myriad of queries,
Fantastic tales of utter darkness,
Views' visible roots were explored.
Mainsail surges,
pungent froth carried wave tips while,
blast swings moaning openly.
superb mountains,
Convey streams into streaming rivers,
Down slants shrouded in woods.
And the majesty of the stars,
Is confronted every morning,
Under soft white clouds,
is with each foot I set down.
I relish the quiet of the sound,
how each slant embraces,
the still raw bay.
Home to unglaciated cervids,
Gnawing animals and polar bears,
Willow grouse, deer,
Also, the renowned Chinook Salmon.
More genuine than the Arctic flow,
Afar-off state refuted,
In both word and deed,
Anyhow of these ever tender wishes.
Atop mottled strands,
I let my emotions air dry,
Orange tulips were selected,
I regained faith; I can fly.
5Th Place Contest Winner
Written: June 18, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Since God already wrote my name in the Book of life permanently
I'm now granted precious inheritance absolutely
Receiving His blessings of great bounty
I must worship Him in spirit and truth's certainty.
With His love sealing my spirit in His ownership
I'm well-protected by His caring guardianship.
Because He is my Teacher-mentor thru biblical preachings
I must discern amidst erroneous teachings.
Having His favor in my ministry participation
I'm blessed in my faithful stewardship's function.
Along His offered relationship so sweet
I enjoy our vibrant fellowship every time we meet.
By His miracle, my body is made as His Spirit’s temple
I'm verily secured against lusts that trample!
While His holiness is molding my heart
I must not defy Him; from Him I should never depart.
Thru His wondrous love story
I'm assured of eternal victory.
Grateful to Christ for His marvelous love
I ought to live for Him, with faith looking* above.
*Hebrews 12:2 Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
March 7, 2019
It broke her heart
when Franco died
he’d been her soul mate
wed over fifty years
he’d been her life
For her Franco
she had a ritual
lit a candle every night
so he would know
how much she missed him
Today would be a special day
she felt it when she closed her eyes
wouldn’t be lighting any candle
she took her one last breath
set down the path to join her Franco
AP: Honorable Mention 2021, 2nd place 2021
Posted on October 20, 2019
If I ruled the world I'd paint it mostly blue,
Spiders would build the finest webs - I'd decree the morning dew,
Auroras would shimmer above the poles, their colors ringing true,
Those would follow my first thought, "Good grief! What will I do?"
Puppies would be off to run and romp, kittens added to the chases,
Mountains, deserts and oceans - set down in law as special places,
The red kite's ride, the jaguar's stride, moon and trees within their races,
The sable's fur, the cheetah's purr, we'd acknowledge such given graces,
And I'd praise the honored beauty in elderly people's faces.
Wind would dance across the sand, long waves would come ashore,
Unfair rebukes and tactical nukes - do we need this stuff anymore?
Graceful herds would move around the Serengeti plain,
I'd reach across the ocean, try to lessen my good friend's pain.
I'd find the key to hardened hearts,
To quell our many tribal wars,
Diplomatic smarts and peaceful arts,
Those things I'd underscore.
No more homeless, evermore - from that they would be free,
(I'd live with the skepticism that we could ever all agree.)
I'd want to know all the poets, every poet that can be,
To never miss the poetry, it's in every soul, you see.
24 February 2017
I love Langston Hughes. I've written about him before. I've written about the Dream Keeper. I love the theme of dreams. You should read his poem, Dreams. However, today, this poem is speaking to my heart. Life is fine...Sometimes we are beset by problems that seem to do us in. Broken hearts...unfulfilled dreams...deceptive people...It's hard. I've lately become very disillusioned with certain people. Saying one thing....and meaning another. Twisting truths. Sometimes I want to give up...BUT LIFE IS FINE!!! ;)
Enjoy this!! You'll thank me later!
Hugs
Langston Hughes, 1902 - 1967
.
I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn’t,
So I jumped in and sank.
I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn’t a-been so cold
I might’ve sunk and died.
But it was Cold in that water! It was cold!
I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.
I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn’t a-been so high
I might’ve jumped and died.
But it was High up there! It was high!
So since I’m still here livin’,
I guess I will live on.
I could’ve died for love—
But for livin’ I was born
Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry—
I’ll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.
Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!
The water tower stands above the town and can be seen for miles around. It has a
ladder leading up to the base of the tank. This ladder has been climbed by countless
teenagers, for thrills and mischief and young kids answering a dare.
Over the years, many symbols and words have been painted on the tank. From
Highschool mascots, to hearts of love and proposals. Flowers and Holiday wishes
joined in.
It had always been one mans job to keep the water tank painted and to cover up
any impromptu artwork. He always took his time about it though. Making sure that
each message stayed up at least two weeks before he would paint over it.
One day he received a phone call. On the line was a little boy. This little boy asked
the man to please not paint over his message he had written on the tank, as it was
very important.
The man explained to the boy that it was his job to keep the tank painted and
clean. But, that he would leave his message up there, untouched, for two weeks. The
little boy, with tears in his voice said "Thank you, I hope it will be long enough".
The next day, as the man was driving past the water tank, he looked up. He saw no
message or pictures of any kind on that tank. He shrugged and assumed that the boy
had just been to scared to make the climb all the way to the top.
Three weeks later, the mans phone rings again. It was that same little boy. Very
excited, he proclaimed "Mister, I just wanted to thank you for not painting over my
message...It really worked!"
Intrigued, the man went to the tank with his paint and supplies. He climbed to the
top, set down his paint and brush. He walked around that tank several times and still
did not see a message. But, as he bent to pick up the paint can, there it was.
Towards the bottom of the tank, in crayon with a young child scroll was written:
"Dear God, pleeze let my daddy come home frum war I miss him
Your frend Mike"
The years passed. Many drawings and words were painted over by one man and then
the other, as they took the job over. But never, the one small patch, with that heart
felt prayer.
For the contest: Story Time
Hostess: Carol Brown
Placement: 2nd
We met a few years ago, then suddenly you were gone
We danced the very last dance to our favourite song
Happenings in our lives took control of our tomorrows
That evening when you walked away, filled my heart with sorrow
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When I heard the telephone ring, I answered and you were there
And we spoke of the past few years, these years we could have shared
The time flew by when we talked, sharing our pasts to date
When you said you'd like to meet up again, my heart just couldn't wait
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When I picked you up from the Airport, you hadn't changed at all
Six foot plus with sky blue eyes, still leaving me enthralled
We settled into our night for tomorrows journey we'll make
To a rented cottage so idyllically set, down by the lake
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The morning came so fast as we set of on our trip
Again going over the years, picturing like a movie clip
Our destination now reached, refreshed we head for a meal
At a restaurant overlooking the lake, our pasts begin to seal
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Back to the cottage we go, as you gently take my hand
So dreamy under the full moon, is this what fate had planned
You play our favourite song, the one we danced to so long ago
As you take me in your arms, something in me flows
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We look into each others eyes as you ruffle my long blond hair
I see desire looking back from your manly sky blue stare
Slowly we discard our clothes as you lay me on the bed
Adventurous discovering hands declare our minds well read
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Our passion resonates, excitement fills the air
Years of catching up in delightful bodily share
We awaken in the morning, spooned within my reach
Our love has been reborn, re-found visiting Qualicum Beach
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-15.php
A Fond Farewell to the Soup
You've all been "Souper".
As I set down at the keyboard
My eyes are filled with tears
For I’ll be saying “ Good-bye”
To folks I’ve “known” for years.
I recently self-published my 4th book
Silly rhymes now fill some 400 pages.
Printed up “officially” in the hope
They’ll last down through the ages. :o)
No one will buy many, if past is judge
But that wasn’t the original point.
If all else fails and they fall apart
I can use the pages to wrap a “joint”. :o)
My 12 yr. elder-life phase of rhyming
Has “respectfully” come to an end.
This last rhyme will finish it out
I’ll now send it to you, my friend.
I joined your group some years ago
But oft felt out of place, not good enough.
When you’re doing something just for fun
Not feeling “up to it” gets kind of rough.
Someone once said: “I’m not so sure
I’d want to be a part of any group
That would accept me into membership.
In desperation, to that level I stoop. :o)
But I’ve written many sheets since then
Least twice felt a need to be preserved
A piece that went together so nicely
I’ve felt “keeping” is what it deserved.
But I’ve gotten off my track again
To say: Adieu to this fine troop.
It’s grown to be for me a family
This wonderful “poets” group.
Thanks a lot for the many times
You’ve read my silly stuff
Shared many supportive comments
Not always, just thoughtless fluff.
I know I’ll miss you but see no need
To be a part, for I can still read.
The wonderful gifts each often shares
On this huge internet poetry feed.
So in the weeks and months ahead
I’ll be back. You won’t know I’ve read
But know I’m enjoying each one
Just don’t let it go to your head.
Respectfully entered by oldbuck
ENTERING A PUB,
ORDERING A PINT.
I SIT DOWN TO THINK,
WHY DO I DRINK.
ONE BY ONE COME UP THE THINGS,
THAT CAUSES ME TO DRINK.
LOSS OF LOVE,
STARTED IT OFF.
AND IT BECAME A HABIT,
THAT HAS PUT ITS BIND UPON ME.
UNTIL INTOXICATION BECAME COMPANION,
IN MY TIMES OF NEED.
NOW THAT I AM SOBER,
I STILL THINK,
WHY DO I NEED TO DRINK.
I SUDDENLY REALIZE,
THAT INTOXICATION WAS A SHIELD BEHIND WHICH,
I HID,
IN TIMES OF NEED.
AS THE TRUTH SETTLES IN MY MIND,
I SET DOWN THE GLASS AND LEAVE THE PUB.
MAKING A VOW NOT TO HIDE
BEHIND THE SHIELD OF INTOXICATION AGAIN.
A right to free movement
A right to live
Where we want
Should be our perogative
We should not feel that we can not roam
Or decide to set down new roots
Or to find a new home.
Borders are a man made concept
Nothing to with nature or creations set up
They were created by those who wish to rule
Making it easy for them control
Dividing people into smaller groups
Then instilling within them a tribal instinct,
Selling them an identity of nationhood
Proud to march under flags and anthems
Creating many individual races
This started back as further than the dark ages
Almost since the dawn of man
A flaw that may see us all dammed
Unless we begin to evolve back into a state
The we started off as
Just one race
That allows everyone to share
And move around the planet
Sharing cultures, faith and love
Sharing the wealth of which there's more than enough
Working in communities to create much more
One mass co-operative force
Respecting the resources of this earth
Not just exploiting it for all its worth
But nurturing and using permaculture to grow
The foundations of the seeds we grow
And fostering tolerance between us all
Building a peace that is eternal
Putting an end to war through self rule
Existentialism becomes the new tool
Of being your own authority
Showing kindness and compassion to all
This is my dream I share with you all
One race
One love
One peace is may call.
I stare at the paper, pen in hand
Nothing fills the lines but angry tears
Where are the words that overflowed;
where are the works that wrote themselves
What happened to the sleepless nights
a poem would scream to be heard
Refuse to let me rest until it was freed;
released from the confines of my mind
I squeeze my pen harder; willing something onto
the page. The empty paper that mocks me so often
Anything ...I search for anything that resembles a word;
one that unlocks the vat hiding emotions that spoke for me
But I search in darkness; neither seeing nor hearing
Pain grabs my attention and I focus back on my hand
I set down my pen and switch off the lamp
There is no longer room on the paper to write
Reaching for the door I look back at the desk lit only by the moon
...at the one beam of light shining on the red stained paper
Tears falling, shoulders back, I turn and close the door behind me
02/22/2018
HOT!
HOT!
Inspiration?
Low
Humidity?
High very high
One really doesn’t feel like writing poetry
But what does one do on a hot steaming day?
I’ll tell you what one does not do –
Work!
Oh it’s a day for invention
Conjure up something not too taxing on the brain
Even the thought of mental effort is painful so
Here goes
There is a peaceful verdant cool valley
Between two snow-capped mountain peaks –
Mount Serene and
Mount Bliss
A frothing bubbling murmuring stream
runs happily through a meadow
I can hear the Tonkawonka song it sings
as it splashes against the rocks
(The Tonkawonka were a local Indian tribe now no more)
It is beside this stream I have spread my Indian blanket
set down my small ice chest
just across the stream almost obscured by the rushes
a young deer bows its head to drink
I lazily uncap a cold beer – take a sip
WONDERFUL!
I lean my head back against a willow stump and
Dream
Not a cloud in the sky
The heavens so blue it nearly hurts my eyes
I close my lids
Am just dropping-off when
I have this waking-dream
I’m in the city
Tall buildings surround
Eggs are frying on the sidewalk
Sun beating down beating down
I can’t stand it!
This is a nightmare!
I wake up
This is no dream
It is HOT!