Best Signify Poems
If my mind be painted in colors borrowed, would it be red?
Rusted in brown, or maybe instead, an indigo streak?
Depending upon the source of inspiration,
and the song on the radio at the time of connection...
I keep coming back to sea green,
or the blue of underwater murals at 3ft tall of childhood,
eyes wide in fickle, transient hazel
absorbing each moment, be it safe or unstable
categorizing each scent and each color
each love and each valor
each crisp Autumn, Summer
in vats of brain paint to be later unlidded
and splashed with insignias
of every person and place and event
that ever touched corneas innocent, bent
on absorption.
If my mind be painted, I think it be green
like the moment I'm lucid before I dip dreams
and hang them to dry in the gallery
"Mind's Eye"
and push to wake up to connect, signify
every sensory path that I've traveled before
to traipse them again and still come back for more.
I'm a stickler for art and with your canvas blank
my sweet innocent dear, with each word that you hear
you will brush stroke your way to uniqueness.
Paint me..
a picture of disaster
of Self pity
of little worth
of meaninglessness
on a cornflower blue background
and red brush strokes
signify me..
put me on canvas
on display
for all to see and
criticize
because even
free wine and
hors d’oeuvres
will never be
enough
this grand
opening
isn’t for them
or even
for you
it
is
for
Me
I am a masterpiece
When winter’s end is imminent and springtime soon becoming
blackbird and thrush in noble song bumble bee busily humming.
Scent of air fondles the hazy morning scattered seed cultivates
memoirs of time, to ramble throughout lob wood and hear sweet
bluebells across the valley chime.
sweet song of nature
the sound of the butterfly
harmony at dawn
Hosts of yellow heads briskly swaying hillside meadows in unison
bloom, fussy rodents in jubilant paradise; Street House Farm in
nature’s plume. Pussy willow caresses the embankment; Ridding's
Farm basks in the heat of June, inspired scythe displays ancient skill
fragrant hedgerow sings dawn’s vibrant tune.
tears of dew sparkle
grassy stems in sunlight sway
a whisper of wind
Ocean of radical heather signify welcome waves of moorland mist, deluge of dewy tears fall on this place heavenly kissed. Wooden bench outside the old hay barn, where the sultry breeze in sugar hill dances, orchestrates the old folk with war-torn minds reminisce those given a life of second chances.
for to those this day
a touch upon rustic face
nature’s sweetest voice.
© Harry J Horsman 2019
What timid lamb discerns I am trustworthy, drawing near?
What deer could hear my message clear, "There's no need for alarm"?
What rabbit out of habit doesn't dash in mortal fear?
What sigh could signify to butterfly, "My heart is warm"?
What squirrel won't twirl and run when my one goal is to endear?
What word, if heard by hummingbird conveys, "I mean no harm?"
How do you spell the word to tell the woman you've dreamed of;
that word of balm to soothe and calm the fears she dares not show?
How would you try to say you'd die for her, whom you most love?
How to persuade your doubt-filled maid, when still these ill winds blow
into her mind? Grieving, you find your unrequited dove
still sees in you an archer, who could wield a deadly bow.
The first thing that I recall knowing
As a sturdy and young olive tree
Extremely well rooted and growing
Was the sweltering sunlight on me
For two centuries I took deep root
To prepare for my ultimate fate
So when I could no longer bear fruit
There was then but a decade to wait
I was cut—left to dry for ten years
So that seasoned I’d perfectly be
For what the carpenter engineers
For admirers my beauty to see
Finally, the time came to carve me
Into the stout piece that would bear
The One who came down from His glory
I’d become a rough-hewn olive chair
Into the great city I traveled
The same city once fated for doom
Through alleys, then up a steep stairway
I was put in a small upper room
Beside the simple wooden table
I was placed in center position
Where the King who was born in a stable
Sat prepared to accomplish His mission
He prayed and broke bread with His brothers
As a symbol of what He would do
He blessed it then passed to the others
As His body; ’twas "broken for you"
Then to signify His precious blood
The red wine from the cup He did sip
So that it could cleanse as a flood
As from nail wounds it later would drip
To this day, I still can remember
How it felt when Christ Jesus did rest
I sensed that His love was so tender
Even when He was put to the test
He said, “Father, Father, forgive them”
As He faced His long prophesied death
The love for all things He had poured out
As He uttered His very last breath
Today, the risen Lord I remember
Whose story has long since been told
As I sit in the same dusty chamber
And recall that Last Supper of old
* Placed 1st in Deborah Guzzi's contest, "The Chairs Tale"
Today I painted a picture to
Represent my life and who I am
I had many colors at my fingertips
But I only used a few, I started with
A silver blue, to represent the calm & serene
River I am
I let red symbolize the wildfire of anger
That courses through my veins
I let black, the color of asphalt stand for the suffering
And the pain
A snowy white
Was to signify my bubbling laughter
The kind you always want to chase after
I used a magnificent purple, like the
Color of a ripe grape to represent
The colorful imagination where much
of my time has been spent
Orange was there to embody
My freedom, like a little girl
Spinning with her bright summer
dress spread all around her
A nice sunshine yellow stood
For the creativity locked inside me
When I finished painting that picture
I thought how unique, Destiny.
_________________________________________
This was an assignment that I had to do for my creative writing class =)
Candles burn low flickering,
brilliance ebbs with each flurry;
Focus fades midst bickering
waxing cold, dreams get blurry.
Slipping away, day by day
Wicks grow short the consequence
of waste and careless trimming;
Message lacks a permanence
because of dogged dimming.
Slipping away, cannot stay
Vigilance would glorify
Christ as the Light that kindles;
our darkness does signify
negligence, burned-out candles.
Slip-sliding far, far away
written 22 May 2016
Breathe - - you say
craving to capture the air inside my being- to the point of no return
(holding me hostage) to my needs, this ache inside
stimulating the senses, crumbling all of my defenses
Stay - - you say
as breathing becomes rapid, as the yearning within, begins to burn
- does this signify it is the right moment,
(to give in to you) to my desires?
If so,
then take my breath away,
breathe me in,
deeply and more
Before I am completely breathless
I softly say - -
You are in Control
_____________
~ Just a little Scribble ~
The winter snow and freeze killed everything
I planted in the spring,
Rhododendrons, roses, Hawaii hibiscus
And the bougainvillea orange king.
Parsley, sage and thyme are gone,
Peony and pansies too,
The daisies died and I still sigh
For the loss of primrose blue.
No more azaleas or alyssum,
Passionflower or peppermint,
The coleus did not last nor sassafras,
And goodbye to rosemary’s scent.
And all the leaves on the lemon tree
Look more like a weeping willow,
Sagging sadly as if begging madly
To finally let her go.
But Spring is looming ‘round the bend
And new seeds await good earth,
To come alive in sun-filled skies
And signify life’s worth.
As all things come, and all must go
In a whisp of place and time,
Like flowers and plants in a cosmic dance,
The seasons of life are Sublime.
© Terrell Martin, 01/27/2025
Labyrinth of Sighs
Wondering through a labyrinth of sighs
More platitudes with attitudes that never question why
A litany of afterthoughts about where we go when we die
An emboldened range of rude retorts refuting the reasons why I cry
A canon blazing wartime over a century ago
The night sky spent stargazing, wondering what we really know
A multinational conglomerate just phasing out more duplicitous advertisements that “flow”
A hungry orphan on a street corner, with nowhere else to go
Self-aggrandising promotion everywhere I seem to look
The wealthy uprising causing commotions, celebrities writing books
A typhoon on the island coast, Turkey on the day the earth shook
A morbid day that hurts the most,
An undignified Capatalist crook
The arrogant certainty of western superiority
The way the monotony forms around typecast minorities
The precedence of material goods conspiring to take global priority
The contradictions of individualism that consume the vast majority
The medical anomalies and surgical advancements
The incredible atrocities of cosmetic enhancements
A formidable ferocity of genetics and semantics
An incredible philosophy of frenetic theological pedantics
A sincere gaze of solidarity into another persons eyes
A mere phase of different polarities that use scientific graphs to signify
A Purple Haze of creative improvisational genius that cannot be quantified
A confused daze of inconvenience as another witness is proven to have lied
Returning to the central point of a theoretical discourse
Concerning a fundamental joint possible hypothetical recourse
A burdened soldier after war suffering the agony of remorse
An ancient boulder from the shores of civilisations geographic historical course
A curious mathematician, an inspiring original think
The spurious contradictions of a political candidate on the brink
A furious proposition concerning a scandalously placed eye wink
Human connectivity and the endless search for the missing link
Copywright Elizabeth Moroz
On top of failure
Is a lonely Lucifer
Awaiting my arrival
I have fallen below bounds
That were once so familiar to my feet
So, the ground feels different,
Hotter and slightly unstable
Much like my temperament
And in this case
‘F’ does not signify fantastic
But we all know what it means
What are these lines? that are drawn on my palm
what significance do they carry ?
why are there contours on my fingers
and why do they vary ?
I hear people call them finger prints,
and heard them say they are different for all .
They signify my uniqueness and all that I am made of.
But for me these are the love lines of God ,
which He inscripted on my palm .
Reminding me of my uniqueness ,
of His concern and His love.
It conveys me of how wonderfully,
I am made and that there is no one else like me ,
who in my Father's eyes is the same .
These fingerprints are my love letter that I read
every day ,reminding me of a love story that always will remain .
Written: November 11, 2025 for contest by John Anderson.
*****************
It hides behind the tongue,
It rolls up as a puff of fumes,
It just sticks around, you?
Not buried.
Folded, however
as a letter never sent,
folded at the corners
amidst the years.
It thrums in the silence.
amid two individuals
One time, who knew
Speaking sans words.
It is nameless,
Still, it knows yours,
It monitors your activities
Trace the border of your glass
When the room gets too quiet,
A hidden truth
It's not a cage—
It's mirroring
That's just a mirror
when the lights turn off.
It spreads roots
in the gentle earth of recollection,
spinning around
What you had intended to say but didn't.
It discerns your rhythms.
Pausing before reacting—how?
You may always laugh
A little uncomfortably,
Once an individual comes close
It is holding off
Not from evil intent,
still, from loyalty
It was given,
It also remembers
What does that signify?
Perhaps,
It blinks in a dream—
- a visage,
one phrase,
a door you didn't close.
And once you wake
Again, you bear it
akin to a coin
buried inside your jacket,
warmth emanating from your body,
never spent, either.
Ashoka Chakra is on the flag of our nation.
It symbolizes movement since there is death with stagnation.
Twenty-four spokes comprise the mighty wheel.
They represent the rishis whose knowledge and power were real.
The spokes signify love, courage, patience, and peacefulness.
There is also magnanimity, goodness, faithfulness, and gentleness;
along with selflessness, self-control, self sacrifice, and truthfulness.
Don’t forget righteousness, justice, mercy, and gracefulness;
as well as humility, spiritual knowledge, the fear of God, and empathy.
Finally, there are moral values, spiritual wisdom, the faith or trust, and sympathy.
They are all the virtuous qualities of dharma.
Forever may the flag fly over India.
I thank wikipedia.org for information I obtained to write this poem.
They stand tall like a monument, the wayfarer’s journey guide
Rough stones shaped into human form, the meaning to unhide,
Inuits first carefully piled these stones, the meaning becomes clear,
Traditionally “you are on the right path” or “someone was here”.
These unworked stones were used for survival and a method to communicate,
Mountain passages or an open channel, the stone placement was your fate.
A cache of food was near an Inukshuk without arms or one with anthers attached,
For the lost hunter in the Arctic, their beckoning and comfort was unmatched.
These rocks are used for navigation, the right direction to select,
They can also signify a memorial, a quiet place of respect,
Or mark where the spirits abide or where the fish can be found,
Think- the amount of information provided, without uttering a sound.
Winter 2010, in Vancouver, it became the official Olympic mascot,
“In the likeness of a human” is the modern meaning, now it’s thought.
I am no expert on these stones but driving northward, I keep a watchful look,
And respect the stone monument there to welcome you, the Inuit Inukshuk
Written July 30, 2011
For “Stoned Contest”
Sponsor Catie Lindsey