Best Shinier Poems
A child in time
Innocence was not youth, innocence was the times
We all sat at the dinner table
Discussions were lively, as adult’s sipped wine
That old Volkswagen, a trunk of memories
Now sitting in the graveyard of old rusty cars
Wishing for shinier days, and a fresh cold coca cola
Frozen in my mind, rusty bumpers, forever a time to cherish
Some dreamed of voyages to space
I dreamed of far away meadows
Where nothing ever changed
Childhoods magically suspended in time
Let me say, time is no ones friend
We spend it easily in our youth
We treasure it like frankincense with each passing day
Love captures our hearts, will time let it stay?
We see the world around us die
Knowing this is nature’s way
Pain, as loved ones fade
Wither away, as we linger on
Day after day
The same questions float in my head
Why do things have to change?
Am I not better off dead?
Love is bound by tears of the heart
A soft kiss or eyes that speak in lustful silence
It matters not, not at all
We must suffer this world as humans do
Me, I shall cling to yesterday
The days of abundance of spirit and youth
I shall dance inside these memories
These are the happy shadows of the past
I remember the good old days of what now seems so long ago
The year was twenty nineteen. What parties we used to throw
Family and friends gathered for weddings and festive holidays
Smiles were seen before flashes of illness and dissension blazed
Parents went off to work; their children educated at school
Life was much easier then; and people didn't seem so cruel
We laughed and joked at neighborhood restaurants and bars
Hope in the future was bright, and shinier seemed the stars
It was a time when we took for granted, many simple things
When never would we have imagined the wrath of viral stings
Nor how much we would sadly miss the nearness of others
the signs of affection we'd still give, if we had our druthers.
There is one special memory from those "The Good Old Days"
that will never be forgotten in the grateful voice I lovingly raise
The blessed news of a new family member; a healthy baby girl
I pray her future will be worry free, as I watch her life unfurl
January 13, 2021
The Good Old Days Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Chance seeing that shooting star, death by brilliant light.
Interpreting dreams, from the day or the night.
Chasing rainbows, it’s treasure foretold.
Facing the mirror, lines drawn, time is so cruel, just getting old.
A wish from adolescence, so fleeting, soon gone,
Finding it, losing it, then, the will to go on.
Fish in the ocean, songs soulful and sad.
Movie star glances, playing well written lines.
Maybe for 7 years, perhaps 10 if you are lucky.
It’s all gone so quiet, time to do it again?
Change for the better, could be sublime.
Forget the life of the past, move on in time.
Or live with the niggles, the mundane and the sour,
A fresh face, a smile, a feeling empowered.
What should you do, how will it end,
Seek advice from a stranger or support of a friend.
The truth is in there, somewhere, but it’s a gamble of trust.
Old for the new, the passion or lust
It’s a question asked over again, driving us to despair, as we
Wrestle with our head and our heart, with neither so clear.
To stay with the familiar, or infatuation so sweet.
In a throwaway society, where quality and value should last,
But a new toy is shinier than the comfort of a past.
An old barn burns the fastest; it’s always been the same,
From Maggie V and onwards, in a broken dream.
It has destroyed me, ne’er mind the cost
Of hearts sold and broken, it all falls into dust.
Water it, nurture it, see it grow and sustain,
So easy to turn it from the glow to mundane.
We are surrounded by it, with its passion and desire,
It’s too small a word, which we can always shift blame,
Yet we let it run amok with our emotions and mind.
We need to learn to be honest with it, to use other words of desire,
Fascination, drawn, enamoured, stimulated or lust
The feeling of tenderness, that electrifying touch.
A life for a life, a time for a time,
You get older, perhaps wiser; you seek solace, something quite unreal,
So why is it too easy to fall in love?
It springs upon you.
Gleaming clawed metaphor
struggle to unhinge.
Many-legged adjectives
commence to crawl over the page
similar to a robotic centipede
but bigger, shinier, brasher.
Then the seductive purr,
the mannered modes, the manicured forms,
the unmistakable reek of poetry.
The first step they say is recognition,
the second step is to find it a home.
The third step is to clean up
after it craps itself.
Ive noticed boys are like seagulls.
They pick up the first shiny thing they see.
Why would they want something dull.
Dont you agree?
And they keep it and hold it and tell it its pretty and that they love it.
Until they spot something more shiny and new.
Something that they just have to get.
I don't have any clue.
How they don't care anymore about the first.
They have no problem dropping it and forgetting.
They leave it like it was the worst.
Its a slap in the face..It stings.
Ive noticed something else i can see
There's always something prettier, brighter.
There always seems to be something shinier then me...
I find it quite strange
how so many people
desire drastic change:
Change would be so simple!
Change would be terrific!
Yet when I ask them,
what kind of change,
they leave out specifics
saying,
"Change is what we need
and change is for the better!
Staleness has gotten old
like an ugly Christmas sweater!
At this point in time
any change at all
would most likely do;
I care not what that entails
just as long as it's something
shiny and new!"
But pray tell, I'd wish you stop and ponder
what it is you're convinced is greener
out there in yonder.
Bigger house? Shinier car?
More fashionable attire?
Perhaps some allusive 'she'
whose heart you could admire?
Some people want to change
until the day they die.
While old-fashioned me,
can't help but wonder why?
Let us never exercise the thought of changing!
Let us be as mountain rivers ceaselessly flowing!
Do you recall what the seed said
before it became a tree:
some dream of changing,
I dream of growing.
I carried my little precious pearl tightly in my hand. I never ever wanted to let it go. I knew that one day I would use it for something grand, perhaps an exquisite necklace or an ornament. You see it was the tiniest of gems, but it was the most precious to me. I knew it had great purpose and opportunity. It was cultured over time as the circumstances in my life hardened its outer shell. Holding it tightly in my hand never wanting to let it go.
Then one day I accidentally dropped it and it rolled beneath the table. I lost sight of where it went and grief overtook me. I got down on my knees and asked the Lord to help me find my tiny white opalescent pearl. He said, "Leave the task up to me. That's what I am here for!" Finally after several years of searching for this precious gem the Lord said, "Open your hand!" Open your hand, close your eyes, and make a wish!" I did exactly as the Lord had asked and then I saw my tiny little pearl reappear. It was larger and more brilliant white than I could have ever remembered. It was even shinier than the most expensive diamond.
There is a moral to my quaint little story. Always hold on tightly to the smallest things. You never know when they could get away from you. Secondly, the most precious things in life are the things that can barely be seen like this tiny white pearl-- and oh the joy they bring when you see their maturity over time.
Gwendolen Rix
1-23-15
Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate"
to walk, skip, dance or glide through,into yesteryear,maybe centuries ahead.
To put our wrongs right, ability to see fate,avoiding pitfalls
our globe would be a shinier place,abiding what dwells from the secret gate.
I would have my wishes all come true,peace throughout the world
no wars no bombs,nor starving millions,equality nationwide.
The cure for painfull illnesses,would be iminant,purity in the air
a god like feeling tremendously,magicly to perspective.
Being able to view the infinity of stars,sheer beauty imminance
a bus ride away,a planetary outing,dazzling the eye.
Hopping on a shooting star,galaxy we do glide
or sloping down the half moon,pleasuring the slide.
Paul Beadnall for
Sponsor Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
Contest Name In a land called fantasy...
I knew that the war had come to an end at last
Cheers rise from the army
Oceans of tears come from the past.
It was time to go home
To families and friends
And back to Rome
We celebrated the feast
Until we heard a “PAROSA!”
From underwater came a giant beast
We knew we were in danger
At the mercy of the monster
But suddenly there appeared a mysterious stranger
He was glowing with light
Shinier than silver
And far too bright
We tried to hide
Any place we could
But the light was by our side
A voice said “God will help us win”
You have nothing to fear
Help will come to you from within
The words came true
We were set free
We won and triumphed in the war, you see .
(Benedict 8 years)
Anger, dolent, satisfaction.
I dont understand the feelings
What is it? Where is it? How can I avoid it?
No,
How can i get it?
Satisfaction. I want it
But the anger. The compressed emotions
People uttered
Whynis it still going around me?
Covering every inch of my soul.
I lost my mind atleast another thousand times
Should I stop? But nothing is crueler than dream ends midway.
I whelve the seed. Balter around it. Holding the most genuine smile
Shinier than the gates of heaven
Its not raining, just tears.
of anger, hatred
form into and ocean, when turns into a thread it could reach the sun
It's a curious thing
The death of a foe
The helpless last breath
When their heart is in my hand
seconds before death
How does it feels like
Putting a foe underneath some sheet
For them to never wake up
The apple turns red. Beautiful
How I wish to see it rots in their body
Rots with the poison I created
Oh, how beautiful it is
Turning red to blue that ends with black
If blinking save you from the hand of death,
I would cut off my eyelids and make an art out of it
Beauty is what I see
Last breath step out. Far from the body
Forced
Mixed with thousand winds
Goodbye to the screams
Echoed in the hallway
Hello to the creeping silence
Dark
but without it, we can't see the stars
To surpass the monster, I'm willing to abandon my humanity
I realized that anger is inevitable
The life i created for myself
In my head, crawling to the gates of reality
Living peacefully in me
The monstrous
Nothing else,
just stars
What would I give up for you?
My morning coffee
The newspaper I rarely have time to read
Maybe a few evenings at the opera
Or perhaps that newer shinier car
I see your image
Flash accross my screen
tiny emancipated body
Fragile
Sad
Glassy eyed
I feel
I see
I avert my eyes
What can I do?
Will it make a difference?
Can I love you who I do not know?
Guilt washes over me
I have so much
Will I be called to account
For my selfishness
Apathy
Ignorance
The heart I lack
My tears
I shed for you during late nights
Phone numbers flashed accross my screen
On my 60 inch HD TV
Remote control in hand
A choice
Do I change your life?
Is it easier to look away?
I can't decide
My phone glowing in the dark
Accusing me
Asking me
What will you give up
My hand trembles
I reach out
Dial
Stretch my heart
Across an ocean
To you
A life worth saving
A story to rewrite
Your village
People you care about
A well
Food for your table
Medicine
A blanket
A difference
I can no longer look the other way
I have seen your face
Looked into your eyes
My coffee
Your new day!
Inspired By Bindu's poem "Prey"
You had a bird in hand
your boat was right there at your pier
with your name on it
all the accouterments were at your fingertips
there was nothing to do but jump aboard
it was that easy
one step at a time
over the gangplank
one, two, one, two
bingo, all aboard
but no
not one, two, one, two ... splash like one thinks
however ...
baby snubbed her nose, a pleasant way of saying condemnation
wanting a bigger,faster and shinier ship
condemning the smaller ship
okay ...
keep in mind you had a bird in the hand
a boat that would have been loyal to you
it certainly doesn't match up with the bigger,faster and shinier ship
but it would have been loyal
then again ...
maybe the horizon has a pretty picture for thee
then again ... maybe that picture has laughing donkeys
who knows
who knows ...
how long you be waiting for that perfect horizon
who knows ... if laughing donkeys bred
the gist of it all, you did have someone that was loyal to you
contrary to what you might have thought
connie pachecho
1/29/17
A flower emerges amidst the pebbles
Eyes behold, its beauty; its fragrance stronger than all else
Its surface shinier than anything I’ve seen before
It dances in the wind, standing where it dwells
One unfortunate day, she caught my eye
She, who was prettier than any flower could hope to be
I had always been afraid of pretty girls
But it was never this bad, you see
She smiled, as if i were the only one she saw
A jewel so precious, she was a living piece of art
And her eyes shimmered beyond every star
Even so, I knew my love was doomed from the start
Our love was a bud on a deserted, desolate island
It was sown; it grew, even amidst the gloom
But as the dust storms triumphed; thirsty, our love was
A flower that may never bloom
I was entangled in a web as smooth as her hair
Nothing could save me now, not even the gods above
For I was the fool who couldn’t grasp
Just because she smiled and blushed, does not mean she’s in love
For my eyes are not for you, she said
And told me about the one that flood her mind
In depths of despair and hopelessness
She left me, so grim, so petrified
And yet, my heart yearned for her essence
A girl; as obvious as the rain, as unpredictable as the weather
She was the one who ripped my heart up
The one who sew it back together
Sweet is equally sweet to all mortal tongues,
Choice morsels sate all men's starved pangs;
Brilliant sights of plenty charm every eye right,
And friends against foes for shinier spoils fight.
Why then do many in want of fine things stand;
Or, how come keenest mouths on gravel feed?
What alters those picky looks on life's shelves
That tell the greatest from the blandest breed?
Sheer wishful cravings for tasty bites alone,
Can't tear sumptuous meat from obtuse bone;
Nor can mere oglings turn fate's mulish thread,
That pins all sojourners on the hardened tread.
Life's fortunate farers got loads of apt swag:
Maybe just a weird tooth for plaintive rhyme,
Or a bankrupt itching to benefit others' souls;
Artful ploys to outshine the sly guiles of dime.
Prized strokes of luck eschew the clinical type,
And smile on stony folks immune to their hype.
I can see the dark hues through my window,
it’s cloudy outside with no stars or fireflies.
It’s been three years since the darkness has been protecting me
With its hollow emotions running through me day by day, night by night.
But today it is different; the cloud has clogged the sky with no rain, no wind, no moon.
Just a graphite grey sheet cruel enough to resist the sky to see or breathe.
Making me uncomfortable in my own room a little gloomy but beautiful.
With little or no lights, me sitting in one place.
My books kept on my bed and the rack half-empty with dust,
My pens ran out of ink lying near the pile of clothes kept on the chair instead of my big brown closet.
A wrinkled bedsheet with a musky smell, similar to the room freshener kept by the edge.
The cityscape has seen me this way, peeking at me through the glass windows and mocking in silence.
But the night has always been there for me, gawking with its familiar way, asking for a conversation.
We spoke many times about the seashore, how the waves become louder at night and the sand is shinier than usual
like the voices inside my brain having their scintillating chat under those dim lights.
Those were the hours when I fell in love with the night,
See! darkness can be beautiful too, with unusual sophistication.
But you….
You were fond of lights, urging me to remove those curtains of secrecy and let those devilish rays seep inside,
You took my dry hands and let them soak the moist from the first rays.
You knew the depth in my eyes can not be filled only by those high pitched blank conversations,
they need the rays, the autumnal air, some tiny blossoms.
You made the mornings easy for me with your voice, glistening smiles, with your tender touch
And those lovely eyes.
Caressing my cold cheeks and telling me ‘Meet you tomorrow at sunrise’.
~Madhurima Ghosh