Best Signed Poems
Signed X’s and O’s
Through the tears…despite my fears,
I’ll be back home again.
Though the war rages for endless ages,
I’ll be back home again.
Though I’m far away from you,
You have no need for concerns,
For my love remains true,
And my passion still burns,
And I’ll be back home again.
Though its dark and lonely here,
Thoughts of you keep me strong.
Being kept from you is my only fear,
But I know it won’t be for long,
And I’ll be back home again.
And though the time I must be away
Drags slowly on and on,
We both know there will come a day
When from this hell I’ll be gone,
And I’ll be back home again.
And though I say, “Don’t forget to pray,”
That I’ll be back home again,
And when I’m through, you’ll know it’s true,
‘Cause I’ll be back home again.
When it’s my turn to come back home,
It’s on the first plane I’ll be,
With no more desire to roam,
And it’s your lovely face I’ll see
When again I’m back home.
I’ll do what I must,
And in God I trust,
While my service I complete,
Till I’m back home my sweet.
Signed with X’s and O’s--
That’s how the letter closed,
That the chaplain brought to her door.
A soldier back home never more…
Limerick : Once a Roundsman signed a round robin
Once a Roundsman signed a round robin
To keep his men from a certain inn
Men called to tell his wife :
At inn he danced to fife
So the wife played high fife with the men*.
• Pronounced as in England : « min ».
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Limerick crochetés: Once Angela signed pact with Doctor Jeckel
Once Angela signed pact with Doctor Jeckel
Needed urgent help her kitchen all pell-mell
In far-off torn country
People turned refugee
By turnip-head Mephistopheles in Hell
Angela’s wise friend Faust told her to toll bell
To tell the world how much her heart bled with knell
She’ll take in all who flee
Bitten by bee or flea
Life-jackets galore Mephisto jumped to sell
In Mid-Land-Sea punctured floats jackets did spell
Drowned refugee yells worse than arrows Will’ Tell
Angie slurped sea-green tea
With Jeckel invitee
While survivors charged through blockades raising Hell
If Angela dug an underground Chunnel
From her kitchen to Mephisto-lands un-well
Käse-Kuchen* Mummy
Made by hands refugee
To boost her economy – Angela! Hail!
*Käse-Kuchen: German for cheese cake
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
My professor rattles on
but I’m not listening.
Instead, I’m staring at
the inside of the novel
I’ve only read half of.
There were just too many things
in the way last week
papers to grade
prayers to say
my daughter’s dance class on Saturday
the dishes, the wash
and an actual conversation
or two
with my wife.
My professor drones on
my ears hot and buzzing
as I stare at the inside cover
of my half-finished novel.
There’s blue squiggles
in wiggly paths
someone’s Bic pen
a frantic paintbrush
leaving their mark.
My professor says
something about Diasporic
Romance
but I’m stuck on those
Bic
blue
squiggles.
It looks like an author’s
frenzied signature, as if
I’d stood in line for hours
at a big book signing
in Barnes & Noble
or Borders.
Is this book more valuable
because of this spasm
of blue ink?
Does it
make my Amazon.com purchase
of $1.52, plus shipping
a gold mine?
The book is more valuable
because of those blue whorls
but only because they came from
my daughter
while I studied
Diasporic Romance
and she colored.
Caro-LYN,
is an old friend,
extremely dear.
She renews our
contract
every year.
I know it’s the RIGHT THING to do,
When I look into MY BABY’S big brown eyes.
I’m giving HIM up, handing him over,
Telling them, I’M an INCAPABLE mother.
I thought I could be his MOMMY AGAIN,
But his WHIMPER proves me wrong.
I’m giving him up, handing him OVER,
Telling THEM, I’m an incapable MOTHER!
And today I’m signing my RIGHTS OVER.
I had a SECOND CHANCE, but I gave my baby back,
I DECIDED he was the one that DESERVED a second chance!
So, I gave him up, HANDED him over,
And TOLD them I was an incapable mother.
This is not about me. It came to me so I wrote it.
Signed, JabroniVille USA
Hammer the sidewalk to watch it crack
Fade the symbols and strike a chord
Watch an army of plumbers unite
To evict the evil worms digging holes
In the universe
But most importantly
Welcome to JabroniVille USA
A town where nobody works
A town where nobody thinks
A town where nobody votes
A town where nobody gives a hoot
Torch the buildings and watch them burn
While roasting marshmallows over the remains
Of the dead haunted by yesterday's wars
Bring back the drum beat and strike a chord
It's time for the guitar solo
But most importantly
Welcome to JabroniVille USA
A town where nobody works
A town where nobody thinks
A Town where nobody votes
A town where nobody gives a hoot
So pull up a chair as I set of nuclear bombs
The days from the past disappear
We're all just headless chickens running around
Not knowing left from right and up from down
It's time to drop the bass
Finally
Never come back to JabroniVille USA
A town where nobody worked
A town where nobody thought
A town where nobody voted
A town where nobody gave a hoot
So pull down the signs
Nothing is here for you to see
Everything was left destroyed
By thoughtless drones
And corrupt leaders
Signed, JabroniVille USA
Worth saving in my heart,
A color falling whenever am lost,
Enthralling my fiber east to west,
Nobody can deny our love of fate,
A love fashioning my heart with happiness,
What more can I ask for than this?
I close my eyes and gaze to yesterday,
When you consumed me to lead your way,
I open my eyes to my book of life,
How can a person come in your life with the sunshine?
The brightest days yet ahead of me,
How sweet a fate; to love,
I can’t take my eyes off you,
A million times I replay all my conversations with you,
My entire being lives in you,
The one who pieced my once tattered life; that’s you,
Each day I love you more,
Am dead without you by my side,
My heart will have no use,
I won’t care for anything anymore,
I will be rotting in pain,
No, I can’t stand my heart in that stain,
I can’t free myself from your grasp; it’s all in vain,
Am a slave to you and bear the burden,
To love you to the end without measure,
I can’t free myself from this joy I feel inside,
Like a wallet of pictures full of sweet memories,
Drawn from the faces of former times,
From every last page of this album of contentment,
Unforgettable moments hoarded by my tiny heart,
When you mended my broken heart,
That when I learn t you alone could edit my heart,
The sun shone again,
I learn t how to love again,
The day you made me laugh; held me when I cried and told me it’ll be alright,
When I made you the first thought of the day and my last breathe before I laid to rest,
I remember when you first proclaimed your love for me,
The blue sky celebrated with me,
I thank you for letting me love you,
And for never letting me go,
All those places we shared,
Including the trees we sketched our names,
All those memories we banked in our hearts,
Are the recollections cherished by every end of our filaments.
ELIZABETH LEPAPA
INSPIRED BY: Lost and Found
Sponsored by: Catie Lindsey
Green means Stop
Red means Go
Welcome to Chicago!
Times seems rampant
Your body language an easy to read pamphlet
Heart beats faster quicker the blood transits
Robbery of the heart the approval of this bandit
Revealing feelings that no longer compresses
Making you think, your words are selective
Can’t screw up and chase off what’s precious
But the very thing greater than the queens ransom
Also sings the anthem
Of sadness and ex and internal tantrums
Blocking off companions
Tear down the cheek ramped
It gave you so much ravishment
And then it a tragic end
Brings life as well as ashes to ashes
Greatest sugar rush until crashes
Absolute power once it latches
Stronger when it detaches
It invisible
Some say it’s the first visual
Lonely people say its mythical
Because the arrow was shot but missed the intended soul
Its known to happen multiple times
Creating gullible signs
Real one lies 5 years down the line
Or always been there in disguise
Test of time some stood
As times goes more become Hollywood
But fuk the cons this the greatest emotion never can there be a sub
Rather its happy ever after or released and never recaptured its sincerely LOVE
Oh damn any nonsense accession!
That so called Lion of Kashmir
Had signed,
Bowed before an Indian woman minister,
Had half-cut hair, an instrumental seductress—
I have heard.
Withdraw your troops!
Why this border between us?
We have our brothers and sisters across,
Don’t you understand???
As you have halved Our land into two?
And gifted some to China!
Oh God we poor people are occupied--now for long;
We flutter as parrots in cage,
And no one ever has ever felt our pain.
If You Yourself come to our aid?
Love letters
Seem to be a thing of the past
Do we dare write in long hand?
We have lost something very near
And dear to my heart
For there was nothing I loved
Better than to write the words
I love you.
Signed with a heart.
And to smell the perfume
And cigarettes
And touch the tearstains
Of a hand written letter
With not an inkling of disdain
Lipstick on the outside
In the shape of a kiss
Never to be forgotten
Such simple easy bliss
Another gracious act of giving
Lost to the winds
I hope that somewhere out there
There’s a flurry of airmail yet to be delivered
That says we are all in love.
For I know that one more letter
Would mean more than the heavens up above.
The sea stops swaying never,
This is my perfect love letter signed to your name,
The sea is me, not me but my love and endeavor.
Your heart flutters to my words and mine in disdain.
Is this supposed to happen?
Your sentences form from lips so delicate,
Physicality's means nothing I'm hooked to your brain,
Get angry bite your lip and yell for us there's no etiquette.
Your heart flutters to my being and mine in disdain.
Is this supposed to happen??
Your lovely,hateful,perfect and ugly,
But i don't judge you and you do the same,
Everyone could hate me but your insurance and i know you love me.
Your heart flutters to my love in mine in disdain.
Is this supposed to happen???
earth life tests
that’s its job
be at peace
our response
is what counts
be mindful
don’t worry
life’s a dream
let it roll
03-April-2023
Tricube
Awake from a slumber
Raise head above parapet.
You then stand stock-still, a sad
Sorry being.
Live your days
And soon months as a shadow.
An unreachable figure.
Why speak? You're not profound
Do not dream as a Rimbaud,
Or long for a Verlaine.
It's the ending you fear.
That time passed speaks off a yearning
And wallowed in romance. Love becomes
A strange thing that twists and cuts.
For what we call love
Is but the shudder of lust
On any youth's shoulder.