Best Spot Poems
I set up my writing spot in front of the window
Then, I found myself in this ongoing trance
Nature was on stage, it chose to put on a show
As the cold wind blew, I watched all the trees dance
The warmth from the woodstove, merged with sunlight
Writing slowed down to a sleepy, calm, inside
A Nuthatch caught my attention upside-down after flight
It seemed my muse had found a refuge to hide
So many distractions, I questioned my writing spot
As the world outside, kept with skipping on by
Yet, the things to write about, surely were a lot
So, I went back to the paper and let my pen fly
Here it all is, observations from inside-out
From warmth to the cold, to the living all around
From stillness to movement, silence to a shout
Writing can be magical from anything that’s found
11/23/21
Entry For the “W” New Poems Poetry Contest. Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Writing
There was trouble written all over her
like a treasure map, gold buried deep
between the missing ampersands
where to begin,
X marks the spot
Y chromosones
like quicksand YX
rolled up, a necessary
reoccurring addiction
sage smoked slowly
then fed to the sharks
gold buried deep
between the missing
ampersands
the better treasure
hidden
XX marks the spot
Candide Diderot. ‘24.
On Manhattan's West Side...
You descend ancient stairs
You've crossed the Drive
River Side Drive
Expect to float on air of beauty.
Cherry blossoms pink won't wink
They'll courtesy as you walk, jog, bike
Their fragrance light and airy
Suffuse each path paved smooth
Sloped path leads to arched cemented canopy
As ancient as view
The Hudson embraces you
A garden path with bright flowers
Will warm your heart
The young, the old, those in between
They live for such scenes
Sky, trees, mound overlooking New Jersey
The Hudson River is where I met my honey.
*
~I don't need, In case you haven't heard~
I don't need to strip for no crown, unless you desire large breast
Casarah, there's no need to be deluded by money hungry psychics,
Reading leaves from a tea cup, a misguided fortune of bribes
Can't you see satin gold already streams through my veins
It's not about wanting it bad or how low I would go
I don't need to threaten you or order dominoes
Never would I clean or do your chores,
Rather, I bet you look good dressed as a French Maid
Cleaning and writing around the beauty of everything
Forget the honorable mention, I want first place
This is your week, blank out the pretenders, fakers and haters
They will never have your back once the contest close
As for me, you've been on my dinner plate, since day one
I don't need a grammar base pen, rhyme pattern to win
What I got is hotter, by far the best rates on everything
I don't need Jan to be my friend, Andrea, to address me with a hello
What I have is satisfaction and loyalty everywhere I go.
I got flaws hotter than the sun, strutting my stuff just for you
No need to scratch my back, what we need is a back massage for two
Calgon will give us the youth Greek Gods can't top in 60 seconds
Unwrap yourself from Broken vines, it's time you deal with--
a moon as gold as every word you ever poured from your pen
Let's enjoy the Groveling moon, together we can enslave and take control
You don't need a genie lamp, you are worth more than diamonds and pearls
Together we can toss that lamp back into the Silent of the shadows
Before, greed becomes a misery --- Casarah darling
I got to admit 1,000.000.000 dollars sounds decent
Too bad, Michael's check bounced before it had a chance
Together let's take these sweet little bribes and make the world of it
Flip the bird, burn down all abandon houses
Built another strong community, wait, something is amiss!
Someone owes a gambling debt, coming to you with casino chips
Casarah, I'm not trying to please your mind, or give voice to my bride
I don't NEED to give what you already earn in your honest way
What I want is to win, no attorney needed - I rest my case
Love the Poet Destroyer
Pearl
rapids
steam cascade
haunting canvass
a red dawn smoulder
to prise sluggish eyelids
of zestful bright mood riser
who gulps in rapt awestruck spoonfuls
of mosaic zone enthralled enclave
awash with random sun drenched blue pool plops
Where giddy children cast green hue pebbles
as dulcet birds tweet from gaunt elm twigs
and rainbow trouts skim silver streams
wet grass clumps sag on mud banks
a grey fleck morning haze
that scene shift migrant
a spring usher’s
mint leaf scent
in faint,
gust
Every day feels like a race
Always some job to do
Or person to please
I'm all over the place
I always thought it was just me
Looking to escape the madness
Even just for an hour
Somewhere to flee
I found a spot
For peace and quiet
And a cheeky little beverage
Which can't be too hot
I found a friend whilst there
Who sat with me amongst the bustle
They liked me for me
And my flaws? They didn't care
We spent many an hour eating toast
Escaping the rat race together
Understanding each other
That's what I miss the most
I still go to my quiet place
Sit in my favourite spot
Before I head out to battle
But oh how I'd love to see their face
... Again
Thinking spot thinking, another sunset
Another small poem, another vignette
Written for someone who's always on my mind
With a smile and a voice that is one of a kind
And though she's not near me she always will be
Alive in my heart and living in me
With angelic voice and a beautiful song
That I'll always recall, yet it's for her that I long
To be making great music with, one heck of a team
And maybe we'll realize the things of this dream
And maybe we won't, if not that's okay too
'Cause I've tasted it through it, together with you
Monstrously Machievellian
Demonic pedagogic
Ominously Orwellian
Demagogic logic
Fools’ Musk-ovite mules
Zuckerberg zeitgeist heist
Dickensian dystopia rules
Google last post bugle
Fossil fuels myopia drools
Bellicose Bezos blows
Bro-ligarchy mates’ malarkey
Unions demonstrate
Amazon defenestrate
Hades Gates hierarchy
In the dock
Murdoch foxy skulduggery
Poxy TikTok runs amok
Crass puns..shock thuggery
This lot don't give a jot
.
Bitter sh**ter Twitter
Greedier needier seedier
The death of mass media
X marks the spot!
Remember that old saying, “waste not, want not”!
Well from now on, gonna save all my kilowatts
Results so far
Are quite bizarre
Ladies light up when I plug into their sweet spot
Oh, a mangy little doggie went galumphing down the street
And as his luck would have it he just happened there to meet
A warden with a wagon and a heavy-duty net
And he nabbed the rabid mongrel and he took him to the vet.
My Dog, Spot
Thinks he’s got
A Super smeller.
But everyone knows
That his nose
Is a-turnin’ yeller.
My heart is old in love years
the flesh not as supple
There has been a hardening
brought on by years of toil
years of care
a heartache or two
or maybe more than a few
have made it quite callous...
My heart is old in love years
and yet...
there is a soft spot in my heart
a tender place
where the flesh is young and strong
beating along
swathed in oxygenated flow
not toughened by age
or hardened by rage...
It is soft
It is warm
It is moist
and fresh
virbrant and alive
full of love...
Yes, there is a soft spot in my heart
for.....you
Eileen Manassian Ghali
This poem is done in the Rubaiyat Style. 4 quatrains long. Enjoy.
Gods’ Secret Spot
Oh snap, look what my eye done seen,
A limpid pool reflecting gold and green,
Behind are some peaks, reaching for the sky,
So clean, so pristine.
A little red shack sits on the edge of the plot,
In this land, what you have is what you got,
Life uninterrupted, pure, uncorrupted,
Gods’ little garden, in Gods’ secret spot.
Look to the north and what do I see?
Mighty peaks looking down on me,
But the true wonder of this day,
It’s presented by God, and it’s totally free.
So, when life gets you boiling hot,
And you are bewildered and emotionally shot,
Just remember the serenity you received,
While visiting God’s secret spot.
************************
Written for contest: Use Rubaiyat Form
*************************
Empty space tonight
Not within my thoughts or heart
Just in bed, your spot
This spot, this spot, so firm and alive
It grows gracious hands, living to give
To enhance all lives... much like their own
They help the masses, one by one.
This spot can be called, freedom spot
Cause ignorance falls from our back
Those wounded and scarred are soothe
The helpful free our tears.
The spot is Uptown, downtown, all around
Our structured days from morn
To close of eve; chases fear
We hear words of good cheer.
The spot has filled so many void
No one hunger or thirst, they take pride
Being a part of ASC (Aids Service Center)
One and all stays sanctuary sharp.
This spot of food, clothing, creativity and work
Knows pandemic Aids have been no joke
Now, human rights seeks cure, and better health
Ask Sharen Duke; harm reduction equals soulful wealth.
The spot is where love surely blooms
Everyone within its grace, looms
Higher, than those who fall, and stay down
The spot of midtown is seen as hometown;
Yes, the spot in Manhattan is where its at
The strong survives, and learn new art
Art as colorful as souls with fresh start
Like blessed hands, minds, and heart.
Find your way to see the spot
Know what you have, or have not
For in our world of blues, chaos and attacks
Behold, life becomes art, at the spot.
*