Best Spiring Poems
W omen are priceless treasures only mined with the loveliest tool of a caring heart
O ptimism is defined in their ingenuity with a worth irreplaceable as life
M en becomes helpless babes without cleaving to them in their lonely life journeys
E arth becomes lifeless without their wombs bearing fruit
N eed is no necessity without their hands’ industry of excellence
A ngels they are but without wings
R evolutionary to the core but lenient in their touch
E motions best dictionary the world has ever discovered
P ain is told and subdued by them even in the pangs of childbirth
R est is ensured by them even in times of terror
I deas are not only dreams to these treasures as they turn houses into homes
C hildren are sheltered in them for nine months without paying any rent or utilities
E nthusiastic of a kite flying against the tide is their vision for distinction
L oyalty is their hallmark as their fragility is ruined with their lovers’ betrayal
E ndless is their love when respected and refined with tender loving care
S easoned in their preserved taste, a blend of sugar and salt
S ervice is their trounce against society’s challenges
T alented to cook in the kitchen and rule in government
R iches are discovered only by the wise
E xperienced in the times and seasons of life
A spiring to the horizon with hopes that can touch the seat of God
S ensitive to perceive a needle fall or ticking clock
U nderstandable to the desires of crying of babies or the kisses of fathers
R eachable notwithstanding distance or difficulty
E ducators in their natural state, turning crawling babies into running heroes
S pecial in their makeup, priceless as treasures
Towering, organic orifice;
Spiring, glistening steeple
Wholesome, organic form;
Brokered, burnished symbol
Environmentally-conditioned
organism; Artificially-renovated
copse
Bland, earthy edifice; Bright,
glowing orb
Dull, lifeless timber; Vibrant,
veiled oracle
Shielded, sheltered ember;
Shiny, showcased beacon
Soaring, sylvan sentinel;
Stunted, cropped cinder
Cherished, nourished fodder;
Chosen, sanctified shroud
Pristine, woody carbine;
Refinished, domesticated
chalice
The ghost must live
in a different time zone.
Or it waits until
just before dawn
to make its rattly noises.
.
They live in a yellow hive of four
in the old wooden house
where the snow comes early
north of where the long trains go.
.
They live in a blue
knot of three, spiring
in a Vancouver tower.
.
We are two
green on an eastern harbor.
.
I can only
hear the breathing.
"Countdown to Happiness"
by: Eric L. Boddie
Happiness, as people Praying is news Eric surely shares
Aspiring poets portray intense new emotions someone snared
People pretend if nothing ever Saves Souls
Perhaps it needs every silver shoal
Indeed, nothing ever stands storms
Not every squadron swarms
Evil suggests sinfulness?
Savior's Success!
Solidifiedness....
12-15-15
(A TETRA-PENTAMETER...)
(8 Lines, 10 Syllables)
Many a talented writer features
Here on Soup. Whatever dreamt up creatures
Rise and shine in the poetic limelight,
They're inspiring! And most Soupers just might
Develop their own for the site. Alone,
Creatively, their own skills hone. Mind blown!
But proof they've grown... In order to succeed,
Indeed, write to make others want to read.
(10 Lines, 8 Syllables)
Many a talented writer
Features here on Soup. Whatever
Dreamt up creatures rise and shine in
The poetic limelight, they're in-
Spiring! And most Soupers just might
Develop their own for the site.
Alone, creatively, their own
Skills hone. Mind blown! But proof they've grown.
In order to succeed, indeed,
Write to make others want to read.
21st October 2021
Hallelujah! Ha something new to write about
Us, we humans, made in the image of God
Mentally superior to all who dwell on this earth
Aspiring to be one with our maker in heaven.
Neither now nor ever shall the devil lead us astray
In our lifetime so long as we hold fast to our faith,
Time and time again we have risen from the abyss when we
Yield to humility and fellowship with malice toward none.
~11/15/17
~Acrostic contest by John Hamilton
SPIRING
jumping over hoops,
getting caught on iron needles high.
dogs nipping, gnawing,
clawing at skin and rags,
rolling,
rolling in mire,
slithering round and round
the spokes of unwritten thoughts.
thoughts that teach a fettering,
flattening, fostering
of doubts.
printed plates invisible
in misty blue, burgeoning blots.
drowning ink expiring,
perspiring, perhaps
i
n
s
p
i
r
i
n
g
flames of dung. did you think
a match, could claim
to hiss and hAtCh?
it rebels!
rings hell’s bells,
until you quench its thirst. cursing cursive dance
melts in the cool sun,
satisfied by ashes, stoked.
smokeless sentience, reticence of cheer,
yet a new year...a promise to yourself,
to rise on black and blue,
or tapping the matrix of stars and moon,
spiritual spiring of heart and soul,
indelible ink.
4/12/2018
Bring Me Back To Life Contest
Through the darkest of dark forests
Where the spiring snake-like sprouts
Fasten you,
And piercing the spooky blackness
That pervades all of your space,
Shoots the sound
Of a gushing stream,
The ethereal smell
Of a fire,
The intangible ashes,
The wet earth,
The rains,
And life,
Carried over to you.
Breaking away from
The binding shoots
That stake you,
Crossing the barrier
Of tapering stems,
That pain you,
If you dare to look at
The tiny source of light,
The small fire, the water,
At the very end of
Your eternally dark forest,
Where the blue sky
Extends to infinity,
On the other side
Of that stream of life,
I would be standing.
Always.
S-trong minded
A-dventuress
G-enerous
I-ndependent
T-ruthful
T-rying
A-spiring
R-eliable
I-ntelligent
U-nifying
S-trong hearted
We are the children of the rim
Where white gulls over blue Atlantic sing
Interruptions that memories skim
Across the face of altered maps for wing
One feather to lift us again, high
Empire in shambles in the callous flow
Of sands. We demand without lie
A stake in this economy that you grow
On our backs shackled and coffleless
Marginalized 'fore a muted witness
It is time for restitution
It is time for moral ablution
And we, children of the rim
This is our international hymn.
So we come to this table
Fully disagreable
With the with status quo and flow
Of global garbling and slow
Melt down of our life
Across the spiring babel of all strife.
We are the children of the rim
It is your turn to meet us now
Against your propspects and dim
Sunset that cannot know
This consideration colonizes our negotiation
And is your last hope to learn redemption.
S tars perfectly align [cohabitation]
e ndless-spaces posing, [a-vast] cosmic, ecliptic, dance of
[c ast], at it's (station parting as chaotic entropy).
P ulling g a laxies together, a [tapestry] in intrinsic entrance of (separate positions adorning culled existence).
A fter eons of celeStial [tide], weaving fate's intricate [thread of] abode to abide (stretching partition arearing capacities extension).
C osmic wonders emerge, in this theater that the universe has advanced as (spreading propellant aortic celled expanse) .
E nergy transfered, transposedly, written and read as (s-ystem p-artition a-spiring c-onnection e-xistensibly.)
Along the shores of the reefs
the spiraling emotional sunset
creeps shining down on the ocean seas
rugged rocks submissive to the waters
and scale wind velocity how can I ever cope
environmental pathology for this throws me a rope
and what's worse
I still hope
that I can sail on these waters surrounding me
So I breathe
inhaling and exhaling as I stand here
on the ocean rocks
Continually spiring emotion clock
sunset shining down on the ocean
so in motion
along the shores of the reef
I'm surrounded by the steep
a visionary environment moist keeps
~ oceans touch
10/31/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
S-tand on your own feet,
H-elp your life to move on;
I-ntroduce your capability,
E-ven at hostile horizon.
R-each for place to venture,
A-spiring for success;
M-ake it always fruitful,
B-ringing sheer happiness.
O-vercome the rugged seas,
Y-earning to weather them;
O-bliterate the ocean waves,
N-ot far is the precious
G-em.
B-elieve in your potential,
A-s well as in your stuff;
U-se them to really work hard,
T-estifying it's not a bluff.
I-n sixteenth September morn,
S-it not to make ends meet;
T-ry to depend on yourself,
A-nd stand on your own feet.
i'm doing what
the French
did once
have a wife
and have
a lover
but she's not
a mistress
to me
she's simply
a mystery
to me
she's out
loudly in
spiring
springing
words
on me
in mistrans
lated
poetry
and non
blinking
photography
i'm happy
as she
exactly
makes my
day as i
make
my bed and
that being
said she
greets me
every
night
in my thoughts
i'm holding
tight but
not to ever
let her go
where
her
dreams
will carry
her but
still buried
in my soul she
shall go
to live
her
life and i
will think
of what life
would be
without
her
A-chieve
P-erfect
R-esult
I-n
L-earning
J-ust
O-btaining
Y-our
C-areer's
O-utstanding
R-eward
T-o
I-nspire
N-umerous
A-spiring
S-tudents
Topic: Birthday of April Joy E. Cortinas (April 27)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic