Best Shortens Poems
“Of time you would make a stream upon whose
bank you would sit and watch its flowing…”
From On Time, by Kahlil Gibran
If you could imagine time as a beauteous spring
Blossoming your life, charming euphoric dreams
I am sure you will regret not having enough of it
Reveling fondly, vibrantly, on prairies, tributaries
Bouncing blue-tides gaily, buoying cerulean seas
Traversing through seasons without ever ceasing
Yet, it lengthens or shortens much to our chagrin
Depending on whether in happiness, or in grief,
Reminiscing in love, or despising pensive memories
Days of yesteryears, though long gone and spent
Seeds that were sown then, now produce harvests
Either wailing in laments, or lauding of goodness
Time yet to come may find~ a tomorrow elusive
So invest it on today, elevating it to exhilarating
When your song is playing, opt to waltz and sing
Paint time immortal on portrait of angelic deeds
Hang on the walls of future your timeless legacy
Be the finite world priceless, that ticks to infinity
Let your time accumulate to meaningful centuries,
Don’t watch it pass you by, decaying in unworthy,
Offer time an inspiration to build your own destiny
November 7, 2021
Placed 1st: “T” Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Time
Spring has earned a special place in my heart:
a season so fair,
She dispels despair.
And I anxiously wait for Spring to start;
for craving her touch,
I miss Her so much.
I long for the sensual perfume She'll wear;
a blend of sweet-smelling flowers and fresh air.
She taught my heart to sing.
At this time, Spring is no more than a wish:
no reason to cheer,
She is not yet here.
But She's such a tempting, delicious dish,
I can hardly wait:
and circling the date
on my calendar: I'm counting down the days.
Whiling away the hours in a thousand ways;
She taught my heart to sing.
Winter winds are finally in full flight
as snows melt away;
Spring is sure to stay.
As sunlight stretches Day and shortens Night
ice-free rivers flow,
while Daffodils show.
Nature dabbles the landscape in tints of green:
while the air's invigorating, fresh, and clean,
and tweeting songbirds, add music to the scene.
She taught my heart to sing;
I love that about Spring.
Wishes are never horses, making beggars be less cheerful
Increased interest to the unreachable despite being careful
Subjects, condemns and stimulates one to be less grateful
The moment shortens the stretched hands and makes nothing wonderful
Feelings fiercely negative, make the coveted powerful
Unidirectional is the attempt which feels unlawful
Loving someone who will never love back, shows life is half full
As time shortens
The aisles fill
Hollow-eyed scavengers
Prowling ransacked shelves
The challenge
Of the “tic-toc” clock
Santa will get the credit
They will get the debit
As they sit deluded
Batteries not included
A mans lack of faith
shortens the journey
to his true destination.
When Darkness Reigns, Depths Of Sorrow Increase
Lo, with sad heart I write, "This soul in tears
With burning pains spread throughout,
Too oft now sleeps with dreadful fears."
Tho' this mind seeks to find joy yet again
To quell dark storms all about,
Life and Fate shortens my remaining years.
Shall I, of my father's flesh and bones,
Fall into cold gray ash and bitter dust?
Walk this field of grief and cold stones,
Stumble and fall in pitiful sorrow again
Abandon all my life's previous trust,
wallow in despair, wail with anguished moans?
Nature tells me to rise and thus survive
Embrace great courage of ancestors now gone,
Hold faith in sweet promise of being alive.
And journey forth on true path again
Whereas, in darkness I find no way to atone,
Nor the power to live well and thrive.
Lo, with sad heart I write, "This soul in tears
With burning pains spread throughout,
Too oft now sleeps with dreadful fears."
Tho' this mind seeks to find joy yet again
To quell dark storms all about,
Life and Fate shortens my remaining years.
Robert J. Lindley , 7-18-2017
you ever heard of a Lao party?
might be one going on right now…
we Lao folks love that celebratin’
sifting through sunrise and slipping
through sunset we sing our favorite
songs in our heads
it shortens time at work
cuz we sa baiiii sa baiiii
we force ourselves to
sa bai through the weekdays
so when weekend come
we too sai bai to be sa bai while
Beer Lao gushes down as if a recession
exists in our bellies
and we must stimulate our celebratory economy
this weekend on our little cousin’s birthday
where grandpas and grandmas
get down Salavan style
Lao folks gotta play that music
gives us an excuse to pick up microphones
clap our hands and wave our wrist around
and dance like how our aunties teach us
when the right song come
when the right keys
of the khaen flute lifts our stress out
our sleepless bodies
we always celebrating something
waiting for that weekend
coasting past the jobs we hate
or waiting to grab jobs we don’t have
it don’t matter if our elders can’t speak English
they singing like they own the land
where their voices reach
rejoicing over the smallest
of happenings
and we all sa baiiiii real good
It's A Pleasure to Really KNOW Jesus!
Often people get in trouble for deviant activity.
This often shortens their life's longevity!
As people strive or pleasure in so many things...
They don't think of the heartache this often brings!
Many seek pleasures, but are never fulfilled!
Often becoming self centered, and stubborn willed!
The "excitement" they want, doesn't last very long.
Soon, they don't know where they really belong!
If it's the thrills and joys of life, you've been spending...
Isn't it about time, that you just stop "pretending?"
The pleasure many want will NEVER be there!
Is anyone really listening? Does anyone care?
If it's pleasure many want... Look no more!
We are what Christ' love is really meant for!
Jesus Christ gives the best pleasure we'll find!
He's faithful, honest, graceful and most kind!
Isn't if about time, you let him turn you around?
And let him put your life on a solid ground?
He can do it now! By the power of his shed blood!
And truly bless your life! From heaven above!
I'm so thankful to him, for the joy he brings!
He is God! And can provide ANYTHING!
By Jim Pemberton
Time heals all wounds,
But seems to me - somehow,
It also shortens life a lot.
What is poetry? Perhaps it’s in the eye of the beholder,
Or a vehicle to vent and ease weight’s from ones shoulder.
Poetry is expressing feelings within the limits of scarce,
Then writing sentences down but arranged in reverse.
A deep conscious view of profound thought and insight
But with me it’s pure luck if I ever happen to get it right.
To attempt this dreaded art I must, as what else can I do!
As I try to connect connections from sublime to askew
Alas, I know little of poetry. Of its forms and rhythm,
Just try to scribble rhyme and make some sense with ‘em.
But continue I shall and enjoy all the wrong I shall write,
As it fills the day and sometimes shortens the night.
Will I continue to create poetry in the wake of a thought?
Or perhaps something more profound should be sought.
But as a hobby its bliss as I read and attempt to rhyme,
Maybe I will create something worthy one day, in time.
Matthew 25:31-46
So if God’s here or there
At a place to be found
Outside limits of space
Past the boundaries of time
Is the One that I seek
Worth the effort to look?
For the farther I look
Toward the vastness out there
Overwhelming to seek
God will surely be found
So much older than time
With the stars out in space
Where the speck fills the space
Introspective to look
And regardless of time
Closer here than out there
In my midst to be found
When in smallness I’ll seek
Nature’s bloom I’ll then seek
In fair Eden’s green space
Where bright colors are found
With my young eyes to look
God will surely be there
In the apex of time
As I ponder my time
And the truth when to seek
Holy books that are there
As He shortens my space
Sacred places I’ll look
Where some say He is found
Where at last God is found
As I reflect the time
In their meek hearts I’ll look
For the small ones to seek
In these aspects of space
And find Him living there
As I look to be found
God is there all the time
When I seek their worn space
As the day lengthens
and sun grows high,
your shadow shortens
as the day goes by,
and i think of you
in noon's repose,
and wonder where
your shadow goes.
Then there you are
on the other side,
in shadow's length
you no longer hide,
afternoon shadow
you slowly slide,
abiding once again
'til your light's revived.
One more thing I'll say
before I'm through,
I've never before met
a gnomon like you.
(April 26 2016)
Im caught up in her spell and loving this enchantment
For her Id walk through hell and embrace my entrapment
Im exploring her lips and the curve of her hips
A heartbeat that skips with her I'm selfish
I pull passionate emotions from all her expressions
Breathing it shortens when she looks in my direction
I pursue her relentlesss I'll never be finished
Somethin like brakeless damn near cant take this
Now all the way breathless left behind cautious
Wanting her closeness her beauty is flawless
Now I think Im the one blushin
cause my cheeks are sure doin somethin,
If this a crush Im all the way crushed in
You usin them words like loves weapon
A gun aint got nothin on you not even smith an wesson
Ima call you gods greatest blessin
You can be my angel Im on your highway to heaven
Haiku 9/15/2016
the arc shortens
coolness draws warmth from the earth
compressing darkness
John G. Lawless
9/15/2016
"Just take this chalk," (so went his talk,
to servants sent before):
"And do not balk. When you uncork
good liquor, mark the door."
This way, the churchman planned to pass,
when pausing for a rest,
fun nights in vino veritas,
partaking of the best.
"So, sup the wine, and if it's fine,
write on the lintel (lest
I miss the sign and fail to dine
there) 'Vinum Bonum Est!'"
Off went the servant at a trot.
Would we were in his shoes!
To earn our pay, we play the sot,
by "testing" all the booze!
From bar to bar, he wanders far,
obeying that behest:
but "Vinum Bonum" starts to jar:
He shortens it to "Est"!
He sips this wine, he guzzles that,
and if he is impressed,
he makes a holy concordat,
and marks the doorway, "Est!"
Down through the Alps the servant wends,
to tread Italian soil:
so many blends, to greet as friends!
Unto his task, stays loyal.
Both white and red, their bottles bled,
are flowing like the Arno:
by destiny, the servant's led
to Montepulciano!
Volcanic slopes (some are the Pope's!)
make wine that's heaven-blessed:
and, titillated as he topes,
he chalks up, "Est! Est! Est!"
Some days elapse -- a week, perhaps.
Beneath the tavern's eaves,
round Bishop wraps the sweetest of traps --
he arrives, but never leaves!
The wine is fine -- almost divine --
Soft, like an angel's breath;
To toe the line, he's disinclined --
and drinks himself to death!
And though this tale's beyond the pale,
a moral you may wrest --
each holy grail's adorned with nails --
go slow with Est! Est! Est!