Best Speculated Poems
Whispers of talent are carried on New England breezes
Dickinson, Hawthorne, and the Irvings’ son Washington
Though I sense a special connection to all of these
None inspired more than Edwin Arlington Robinson
Three Pulitzer Prizes were displayed on his mantle place
His childhood in Maine he described as “stark and unhappy”
Though he went to Harvard, academics he’d not embrace
Arlington’s style was unique and his cadence snappy
“Miniver Cheevy,” displaced soul, longed for Medieval years
To Miniver I could relate, felt I was born too late
Wishing I’d ridden West with America’s pioneers
But at least my dreams alcohol will never desecrate
For his depressed brother Herman, “Richard Cory” he wrote
A handsome man who appeared to enjoy the perfect life
But the turmoil in his heart, his exterior did not denote
Richard shot himself in the head to put an end to strife
Edwin, your character studies touched something deep inside
Struggles you described of common men gripped me, made me cry
People whose dreams and accomplishments did not coincide
I, too, watch life’s play from backstage, feeling like a standby
Though I seek to display wit, tragedies pour from my pen
And much like my muse, my life seems filled with loneliness
As poets we reach out to touch lives of men and women
Hoping to find comfort as troubled feelings we express
* Written for Jared's "Ode" contest
Edwin Arlington Robinson (December 22, 1869 – April 6, 1935) was an American poet
born in Maine who won three Pulitzer Prizes for his work. His brother Dr. Dean
Robinson died of a drug overdose, perhaps inspiring Robinson to write of the
alcoholic dreamer “Miniver Cheevy.”. It has been speculated that his poem "Richard
Cory" was penned for his other brother, Herman. E.A. Robinson’s poems have a dark
pessimism stemming from dreams gone awry. The style and themes of many of my
poems seem to emulate Robinson, who often wrote in rhyming quatrains. “Richard
Cory” can be found at http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/richard-cory/.
To read “Miniver Cheevy,” go to
http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/robinson/12640.
Little Corona
declared one day
"I will be the strongest,
most powerful I say !"
"I shall conquer the world,
and establish my reign.
The world in my hands,
never free again !"
"The fittest shall survive,
as Darwin said.
And all the weaklings,
will sadly be dead"
"Ridden with fever,
cough and cold,
the world will suffer,
the young and the old...."
"My reign will start
where its most populated,
I think its China"
little Corona speculated.
"I will then go on
to the Americas,
the world's most famous,
celebrated landmass."
"And that's not the end"
little Corona went on,
"I will destroy the world,
my reign will go on !"
"I will make sure,
none can escape, NONE !!
Try as hard as they might,
to fight me or run."
"I am the most powerful,
and I am very clever.
I will conquer the world,
You can defeat me NEVER !!"
Or so Corona thought,
being little and immature.
But man is much smarter,
and will certainly find a cure !
Harrowing shifts placating Palestinian patients
Awkwardly healing bones, injuries war caused
Comfort we gave seemed severely insufficient
Soul mates meeting among pain, implausible
Crutch hobbling boy with copious haphazard grin
Caught both our hearts, we smuggled him chocolate
You took every free chance to sit and joke with him
Your easy demeanor is medicine, patients responded
Images of rubble sifting shadow-faced citizens
Inescapable magnitude replayed, dream tethered
Impact we made upon fractured limbs and spirits
Told us each smile gained was worthy endeavour
I've speculated our distance pronounced our parallels
A far, foreign land artificially grew our new love found
Strongest logic shows me your benevolence plentiful
Desire stunned us, despite draped shapeless gowns
A year improvising in Gaza's limping hospice system
Threatened to take my buoyancy amongst its tragedy
Compassion you dealt exposed a myriad of wisdom
Guardians of burden bandaged turmoil's inched recovery
Excitement of moving in together, calm logic forgotten
Several short weeks after Gaza, shared goals discussed
A jubilant wedding, white gown without tie backed cotton
Box pile totems, future unpacked together, a time for us
17th August 2020
JCB Burl, Sponsor
Contest, 'A Time For Us'
You can’t fix stupid
something unfixable local gems
To this day
There are some people
Who believe that COVID
Never really existed.
That it was all a horrid libtard plot
To lock down the economy
Imposed draconian controls
On everyone.
That vaccine mandates
Are the equivalent of
Sending Jews to the death camps
That the unvaccinated
Will be rounded up
And forced to get vaccines
Which are the equivalent
Of Nazi medical experiments.
That the vaccines were created
To track people
Invented by Bill Gates
Or were the mark of the beast.
Some speculated that
everyone who got the vaccine
Would die in one year
Or become sterile.
Part of the nefarious plot
To depopulate the world
By the global one-world government
UN black helicopter conspiracy.
The nonsense about vaccines
Mask wearing
And COVID in general
Reveal a fundamental flaw
With many human beings.
No matter how hard one might try
To convince people who believe
This nonsense,
It is beyond any ability
To reason with them.
At the end of the day
You can’t fix stupid.
You can return to earth for two days they said,
but not in that worn out body.
I knew that; and I was glad; it was almost blind,
and had a touch of dementia any way.
You have to go incognito, they told me.
They were stern, and stuck up angels,
Not the kind I was expecting to meet my
first hour in heaven. Assertive even.
Here were my body choices: fourteen year old boy,
red hair, freckles, square chin.
Eighty-nine year old body, old lady, wrinkled,
spotted hands, sweet smile, looked serene.
Or two-year-old female, blonde hair, plump and perfect.
I could not see their eyes, for the eyes do not appear
until you enter the body suit.
Two-year-olds can be dancy-prancy. But that would mean
I would have to have gatekeepers in the form of parents,
probably, and I wanted two days of freedom not naps.
Being eighty- nine did not appeal to me at all.
I have never enjoyed arthritis in my feet or a humpback.
“Fourteen year old boy,” I told them. They nodded,
being smug angels, and my self-chosen-spirit-guides for many lifetimes.
All of my relatives stared at the giggling freckled
red-haired teenage boy at my funeral.
They speculated that he had escaped from the
boys’ group home on the corner.
Every time one of them got up and said something
nice about me, the boy burst out laughing.
They did not escort him out, because weirdly enough,
he had my witch-laugh, and it comforted them.
WHY?
Red red roses
Bushes overflowing
The reds come first
Why not pink or white?
I’ve no way of knowing
Dear someone please -
One sensitive to nature’s ways -
Why do reds come first?
Why not pink or white?
I’ve pondered this for days
Speculated every since
I beheld that overwhelming crowd
Of big red red roses
Gathered atop our grown-wild bush
Glistening in the morning sun
Dewy-faced and proud
News of our examination results cheered us
Long wait we accommodated
Anticipation tinged with fuss
As anxiety our minds intimidated
Speculated
Doubting the truth
Anxiety accumulated
Sometimes sliding us South
Beside a destination to dreamland
Expecting the best
Assuming a TCZ brand
For a while could rest
Till to our disbelief
News filtered catching us unawares
Scratching on our heads the consternation kerchief
Whose fares, flares and glares
Became insignificant because with joy our hearts leapt
As reality pricked the doubt
That crept and swept
Bulk of the clout
Hitherto intact
Briefly shaken
To impact
Brethren without a reason crestfallen
Until facts filtered and altered
Scenarios where doubt dwelt
When facts our self esteem flattered
As collection of result transcript became reality well spelt.
A polite rain
joined me briefly
before heading uptrail
to leave me standing, alone,
in a suddenly steaming forest.
I wrote this on a hike in the Adriondacks to to Mt Marcy, the highest mountain in New York State. My Adirondack Guide indicated that Tahawus was the a first Nation (Iroquois ??) name for the mountain and it meant “cloud-splitter.” I decried that the mountain is now named "Mt. Marcy"after William L. Marcy, who as Governor of New York (1833-1839), authorized the geological survey that explored the area. I speculated that this is why there is so little poetry in our time.
However, a later Wikipedia search revealed that the name was likely never used by the aboriginal peoples of the area to refer to the mountain, and its meaning, may have no roots in any language.
Temperately cooled shade
From Cedar trees off the
Coast of Lebanon
Shielded our state of
Nudity. Sincerely we
Speculated; as I wonderfully
Whispered in her esthetic ears:
"Eve my emphatically enlightened,
This garden is stimulating
Like paradise." As
Sweet musical rapture
Soothed our souring
Souls from melodious
Harps of grander,
She warmly whispered,
"Just let your tantalizingly
Soft sizzling fingers
Entwined with the
Hair curling on the back of
My warm neck,
While I taste your lips"
Splendidly we sipped warned
Warbler feathered wine
From Macedonia’s vine, as
Our bodies tingled
With rapture for—the
Honey to come…
~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
Dedicated to LMB and all the Eves in the contest.
Mar sin leat!
9th Place Winner
Adam in Eden Contest
Sponsored by Linda-Marie Bariana
6/15/10
~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
Nessie, Wattie and Kin
A full ten years before Nessie was first sighted
Colonel Arthur Trimble visited Loch Watten
A dark, looming shape Trimble’s interest ignited
It’s now speculated Nessie has some twins
Oceanographers say that before the Ice Age
Loch Ness was connected to the Atlantic sea
So let us turn the history book back a page
A similar creature’s been seen in Lake Erie
American cousins for Nessie and Wattie
Giant sea serpent’s been spotted in Lake Champlain
He is known as Champ and Lake Erie’s is Bessie
Four ocean cast outs roam an inland sea domain
Could it be that the plesiosaurus lives on
In Scotland as well as in North America
Trapped in these lakes when the Ice Age seas had withdrawn
At same latitudes, but not killers like Orka
So if I make my way to see bonnie Scotland
I’ll be chartering a boat, bringing diving gear
In hopes of catching a glimpse of Nessie firsthand
As I explore Loch Ness’s undersea frontier
*Entry for Thvia's contest
The foresight
When I look back on my life, which I seldom do
I think in my writing, I should be deeper; alas, my self-mockery gets in the way.
Why should I think I`m intellectual to have any worth to say?
It appears to me that many on Facebook feel important enough to enlightening us with their homilies?
If you live like this or that, you will find peace and happiness.
Balderdash!
Reading what philosophers said, is interesting but it does not change your mind.
Nor does reading the bible makes you a Christian.
Gladness is a gift and the place for village idiots who lack the ability
to reflect upon life.
speculated on what life is for is useless; the only cure is acceptance
that life is cruel, and if you live long enough, friends may drive you around
asking you about the old days, a time you rather forget.
No religion or philosophy will rescue you; you are on your own until death.
I speculated in my head
what sort of token should I give,
to the One I love the most,
my dearest friend, partner, soulmate,
on this special day.
I could not decide
upon a single day that would show
my deepest thoughts, love and desire.
And so I pen these careful words
on a two cent piece of paper
to show my greatest gift,
my love for you.
Happy Anniversary, Baby.
the fool of the tarot is the pharoa
four royal families go into hiding to pull off winning a war versus torture for his birthday
its an under rug swept fool proof process that is hinted at in the zodiac and the bible
the bible is a guide of realising torture victoms and a reminder on how to heal them
it seems the bible stories are reminders of historical events that caaused the end of a war
satan was the pharoas name, jesus was hired to abolish slavery
mary was the nurse
the holy ghost was the black market that proceeded government
the zodiac is a weather channel of catastrophic events that took place while previous generations were alive
their mythological stories point to places on the earth where these tragedies occured, speculated by confused philosophers we call prophets
some hieroglyphs and numerology are similar its a simple language of numbers, crack the code of hieroglyphs into numbers
translate the numbers into meaning
almost everything we read or study and speculate points to how a past battle was won
figuring past lives are a math
the occupation you have now
and how those skills you use everyday would have helped you survive hardships of a previous period
ie toy store candy shop would be alive during saints
ie. casino goldrush or dirty thirties
ie. prison guards trojan war
ie. pornographers cleopatra
ie. teachers jesus
ie. fitness experts philosophical age
etcetera, the skills you use everyday would be useful in a previous time of hardship.
davinci hints at women being named after tornados
and other things women have been named after
the mona lisa may then be cleopatra
Everyday deep researches of mankind
From rockets to satellites all sublime
Started a journey towards Mars to find
Another place for existence of air, water….life
Never speculated but captured a shot
Creatures like Sphinx was later thought
Eureka! For a new abode and neighbors
Or to be ruled by those unfathomable figures
Life predicted but true face of life yet in dark
Else real estate people pioneer to embark
Exhaust all asset to create buildings and malls
Avarice says explore…explore… Earth is too small
He was tired of removing white rabbits
in long, black hats;
sawing his assistants in a wooden box,
without pain or a single drop of blood;
making himself to appear and disappear....
He was tired of being called a master illusionist.
He was tired of creating new tricks.
One day,
he vanished unceremoniously. His fans said
he had managed to disappear
and appear somewhere else. Some
speculated where he might have gone to....
Caribbean, Alaska, Japan, Africa, Center
of the Earth....
Some were convinced he had vanished
forever into time and space.
The magician was alive and kicking;
he had become a painter
and a family man in a far away place,
with a new name, new addresses,
and new friends.
He had created a new life for himself.
For Contest: Create Life
Judged On: 5/21/2016