Best Snippets Poems
That's all we have when you come right down to it:
little pieces of life, random moments we dare call--
memories!
But what are these fragments, these snippets of the mind?
Just sort of, kind of bright flashes in the pan lighting up
the brain, rolling into the mind willy-nilly, like freight cars
abandoned by the locomotive?
All life's experiences, both sweet and sour, remain only as
touches, wisps brushing 'gainst the soul, memories as
promise but always as promises unfulfilled, unkept....
For the only reality we have lies in the moment, every
single moment, in each breath we take: everything
before or after the moment is mere illusion, a coloring
of the lost past or a fantasy that will never be born.
Life is like a fine bespoke suit until some madman comes
by to cut it up into myriad bits and pieces we so bravely
call-- memories....
I.
Bleeding --
a world without comfort --
lost without love --
no destination...
silently walk
without touching wounds...
where is love?
II.
Frail fingers grope...
sodden afternoons...
winter fog...
through gray eternity --
cold eyes,
delicious mouth.
Found love will laugh,
desire returning.
III.
Making love,
we deceived ourselves.
Complicitors, we lied.
Compliant pawns,
we defied danger,
practiced brilliant fabrication --
but truth was stranger.
IV.
Others know desire:
ever changing years -- and lifetimes --
reaching towards the moon.
Love, be my way.
I.
desert stillness shrouds
their adversary lairs
twilight's muted thunder
betrays the nearby
stealthy moon
II.
the chalky moon
creases midnight clouds
blue shades of lovers
walk a powdery sky
chortle at the other's close proximity
III.
pale gold ribbons
fiery soft skies
sea haze streaks
a thin mountain path
as day begins
IV.
kitchen pans, pity, pungent cheese
and garden lace -- the matriarch
dripping decay with
her mild gentility
V.
winter snow, ice
slow spring melt
rain-drowned torrent
ocean bound flow
placid river drift
debris of desire
VI.
drifting memories of lakes
water lapping against land
heartbeats floating on the breeze
the water reflects your face
look away
A mother’s hand holding a child
Walk of joy beaming a smile
Kids frolicking on playground
Happiness of innocent sounds
Quarrel of two loving hearts
Thunderous clouds soon pass
A glimpse, if not ephemeral,
Perhaps a rude, unwelcome stare
Reality haunting endlessly
A blemish on hope eternal
Face of grief when tears cease
Pain lingering in perpetuity
Pink sunrise gleaming eyes
Kiss of dawn blushing the skies
A cringe voicing displeasure
Truth’s way of bemoaning a liar
July 27, 2021
Placed 1st: A Brian Strand Your Choice Contest
She is very slender and her eyes are brown.
Her hair is lovely, long and dark.
Sometimes she wears colors in her hair or paints her nails.
When I visit at her house, she often scurries away
to be with her own little visiting girlfriends.
Not too interested in Grandma any more,
she is eleven going on twelve.
Sometimes she comes with her sister to stay over.
She cannot scurry off; I have her full attention!
I enjoy giving her and her sister treats like candy and ice cream.
She especially likes great-grandpa’s Klondike bars!
She is growing so fast and even babysitting a lot now.
She will probably grow taller than even me or her older sister.
She is eleven going on twelve.
I was there for her birth three days after one Christmas.
I floated her around in a pool that following summer,
watching her large wonderful eyes, just staring straight ahead.
She was so calm; she is quieter than her sister
(but maybe not when she is with her girlfriends).
I’ve watched her dance in recitals where she sparkled
with more radiance than any other girl in her dance group.
Sweet notes she gave me now hang from magnets on my fridge.
Caring, fun and loving,
She is eleven going on twelve.
Nov. 5, 2019 for Beth Evans' 2 To 12 Poetry Contest
#Snippets,Tidbits, and Pieces minus Peace...
Flecks and Specks sprawled evenly and eventually...leaving no room for possibilities and puzzle pieces scattered haphazardly; no room for building inevitably, it's a choice, depending on a conclusive voice and it would be made known a Full understanding, of shards of discards desired to be left outstanding; BOULDERS BOLD OF TRUTH in this bit, built branding...No Tresspass* on this "BUILT TO LAST" Landing; Gated and Guarded Mentally; Let's Zoom In More...
Fragments Form Finalization For Formation
*ALL* Information Is Not Usually Deemed Necessary...On the Contrary, it Depends On *WHO* You're Talking To...Such a BROAD View Skewed and Selectively the "fine print" goes unnoticed, unobtained and UNANSWERED
In conclusion, there's no illusion on this microscopic topic and poem; just like a house is not a home that always encourages understanding beneath it's dome... pebbles and fragments forms a foundation that stands alone; peace is not a negotiation, when missing pieces has no consideration and that's what happens when snippets and tidbits holds it's own...WHOLE OUTCOMES determine those snips* of seedings that's been sewn.
©Renee Denise Gross 12/9/2017#
To my hometown of the sixties, I plunge in reverie,
recalling where I found myself in nineteen sixty-three.
Each fall, the biggest thing going - was going to the fair.
My town's the Sorghum Capital; cane fields still tassel there.
Talent contests, entering pageants, gave us identity.
I played piano several years; I won in sixty-three.
My embroidered pillow cases - the best of twenty-two,
the sorghum brownies I had made were chosen for the blue.
As a school project, I worked the cotton candy machine
and won a set of silverware the year I turned sixteen.
I tried out for Miss Sorghum Queen, but stumbled, it's no joke;
and later wrote that fable down - "The Fall My Zipper Broke."
Hawesville of fifty years ago defines this hometown girl.
Gracefulness found me wanting, yet God’s grace fulfills my world.
June 23, 2017
Love it Andrea Crazy eight may win the day.
I think we tap into common source.
the great unconcious, unwashed horse,
who blurts about with no recourse,
provides the words to tickles force! :) xox Don
as Johnson says, I say!
Robert Haig, yes ,
you have the thing,
great poets try to use,
to flow n flow while talking though,
do not it abuse:)
Bob D was an influence like Elvis,
upon my poor flow line,
connection do we often get,
within the winds of time?
the red red wine,
enflames of the passion,
love without love,
is shortened is,
the shortened ration,:)
xo Don...
L-M
Yes indeed we are tittilated,
in passions sweetest way,
and hubbys happy that your hot,
he must enjoy the play.
life is just a boring bit,
no cuddles for my manly wit,
catch a mount i now admit,
you could be just exhausting it:)
if you come out to play:)
thanks from
Aussie Don
A gentle breeze wafting in through the window
Still, white waves lapping the seashore
The sun bidding goodbye to an iridescent sky
Leaves rustling as the zephyr kisses them
Soft snow swirling down from heaven
Stars peeping out through the darkness of night
Raindrops dripping in harmonious beat
Fluffy clouds changing shapes to impress
Songbirds belting out melodic music
Rainbows cheering us on from their lofty position
Waterfalls cascading over rocky mountains
Flowers blossoming anywhere in brilliant hues
Moonlight filtering in through the dappled shadows
Soft grass growing beneath to tickle our feet
Dewdrops decorating each blade in the dawn
Children toddling about babbling in their own language
The hot sand accepting the imprints of our feet
Stones turning to pebbles as the river rushes over them
Dandelions dancing with the puff of wind ~~
Are just a few snippets of God's everlasting wonders !!
1st April 2023
snippets of light
converged
upon
the
face of the
pink ash rose
through
the
sacred night
but
give us this day
orange
snippets of light
Snippets of sound
A private concert for our ears only.
Locked in an embrace like no one is around.
Bittersweet shards of treasured memory.
Softly we repeat the refrain.
For a moment I'm lost in a reverie.
Of steadfast love to remain.
I look into your eyes, the world fades away;
There is only you, and only me.
We are transported to that sacred day.
Transcending time and space,
When we made those vows;
We never expected to be in this place.
In this the here and now.
Rocky shores we've traveled always hand in hand.
Proving that love conquers eventually.
There isn't anything we cannot withstand.
From this moment until eternity.
I will love you forever and always.
There's just you and just me, for the rest of our days.
With you, for always, I'll sing that refrain
Loving you in all ways.
Through all life has in joy and in pain.
I choose to walk with you forever
I promise to stand by your side for always.
On this path we have joined together
For just that moment the world fades away.
From this moment, I will love you forever and always.
Locked in a tender embrace,
I can trace the tears coursing down your face.
For just that moment we recall,
That day we pledged it all.
With you I will sing that refrain
Together, we will remember again.
Rusty, tattered, a bit askew.
We will make the same vows anew.
Remembering snippets, it's our story, it's our song
My true love was there all along.
For just that moment we can be blissful and possibly forget.
For just this moment, there are no regrets.
It's just you and just me again
Joyfully singing that refrain.
A snipping of scissors
The hum of the trimmer
The hollow sound of an AM radio
Idyll chatter
Kids, grandkids
The weather
A quick trim of thinning hair
Melancholy moments revisited
No appointments necessary
Just walk in
Sit down
Relax
…And wait
Snippets play inside my mind.
Pieces of movies which I find
Are ingrained; cinema projected...
Dorment and then resurrected.
Sometimes, just a simple thought
Or action has the snippet caught.
Often, in a single day
They play - and sometimes on replay.
Moments big and moments small...
A century of films in all.
Silver, colour, sex and violence...
Even scenes made in their silence.
When I'm bored, I like to visit
These - I find them quite exquisite.
Shots and scenes in all their glory
From any given category.
The theatre based inside my head
Captures what's said and unsaid.
I cherish snippets because they
Can help to fill some of my day.
Meandering meadows broken by a tossing garbling brook…strewn..rocks hewn embossing...marbling and moss flossing
Awoken whispers spoken..cantankerous coughing eddy wheezes..then a curmudgeonly icy mirror hush
Reckoning breezes yield cats' paws beckoning…teases across the flanking field
Fairies’ wield spells conveyed in lush dappled glades of plush bluebell dells
Stacked cumulus collage..shield montage cracked by dazzling azure shard mirage
Chubby clouds’ japes..conjuring cannily hung faces.. shapes...far flung places
Strife is rife..resurrection introspection survival..brings carnival of retrieval
New things...nothing can rival..primal primeval revival..Spring sings life!
absolute neutrality
variances appear
and all are
neutral
arising
there is none
as movement is
absent
nothing appearing
that is the
total message and
there is no message
non duality
is already a gift
for no one
a happy tale
no you
is the message
to the separate self
in disbelief
no one
may appear
as someone
walking
with
fewer words
nothing may be
suggested
the ubiquitous
I-word
always an appearance
serving the story
oops
flags a mistake
perhaps recovery
reversing a story
arising
arose
and arisen
are not three