Best Stanzas Poems
I: In Rhyme
when the world had no headsets
the sunbathing crowd
fell asleep to the sounds of
transistors played loud
while the deckchairs and windbreaks
kites, beach balls and more
formed the stripes, lines and circles
that painted the shore
and the longer I walked
on the sand to that sea
the more the sea seemed
to get further from me
and the crunch in my mouth
was that one grain of sand
in the sandwich I ate
with my sand covered hand
while the lemons and melons
and plums I'd watch spin
would stop short of a cherry
one click from a win
and the postcards we sent
from the end of the pier
were of blue skies and donkeys
and "wish you were here".
II: In Free Verse
from the end of the pier
through the stiff breeze
and spindrift
I can still hear the tunes
of the promenade bands
and I can still see the stripes
of the deckchairs and windbreaks
and the box kites
and beach balls
that painted the shore
and I can still taste
the butter
- warm like the canned ham
and the crunch of that sand
in the sandwich I had
and I can still hear the djs
laughing and talking
spinning hits of the sixties
from transistors
played loud
and I can still smell the onions
frying wild in the fairground
to the sound of the claxons
and the lemon. click. orange. click. melon.
click. click.
and I can still breathe the deep smoke
swirling in sand dunes
from the benson and hedges
and
player's no.6
and I can still see those grown ups
staring at mirrors
- their bodies distorted
like the dreams
they once had
today on the pier
the rain that's now falling
falls from a same sky
on a same sand
and same sea
and a
same
me
- yet this air
this air
is not the same air
as that air I
once
breathed.
Love Stanzas
I write of celestial moons and flying carpet rides,
Of seasonal hues and rising tides.
I write when golden sunlight fills the skies,
And emerald hills enchant my waking eyes.
When the aroma of thulian roses scents the air
And wind blows the willows like Pele’s hair.
I write of all things that remind me of you,
How I’m sheltered by your shadow in all I do.
When I hear the sweet call of a turtle dove,
I smile at your deep amorous voice I love.
You are always the one after forty years
Though we've endured a few hardships and tears,
It strengthened our bond as we grew old
Our wedding vows seemed to be written in gold.
You put my feelings first and I reciprocate
I cherished the fact that you were my soulmate.
When moonlight gleams on our island sea
Our love songs still echo eternally.
The love we shared remains pristine and pure
When our souls combined to forever endure.
8-29-22
I write because Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
____________________________________
7-17-22 Rev.
~First Place~
Rhyme Rumi Quote Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
"From deep within my heart
I always catch the scent
of my Beloved. How can I
help but follow that fragrance?" By Rumi
_________________________________________
8-31-18
Still the One Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner ~7th Place~
* Thulian is a rose pink shade
With each life
Comes mouldable clay
Make it, break it
Or do okay
With each day comes
A slice of joy
Simple pleasures
Make our stay
With each light
Comes a shining beacon
That beckons wisps
To come its way
With each will
There is a way
We'll then do more
Than just okay
Dedicated to my father on Father's Day :)
I write of celestial moons and flying carpet rides,
Of seasonal hues and rising tides.
I write when golden light fills the skies,
And emerald hills enchant my eyes.
When the aroma of thulian roses scents the air
And wind blows the willows like Pele’s hair.
I write of all things that remind me of you,
How I’m sheltered by your shadow in all I do.
When I hear the call of a turtle dove,
I smile at the mellifluous voice of the man I love.
As a glowing garnet sun sets on a calm sparkling sea
Your love songs will echo eternally.
Our love will remain pristine and pure
As our souls combine and forever endure.
© January 20, 2013
~Third Place~
For 'My Valetine' Contest
Sponsor: Suzette Crous
Decodeing secret message:
This message is to my mate when we met on one of my flights, hence the
flying carpet rides. The tides are because we live on an island in the Pacific.
A moment of memory still lingers here,
Lost among all the things I long to forget
Refusing to crumble into future dust
Of wasted dreaming.
Closed all the doors and double bolted hatches
Deny that one thought a single moment more
Of emotional response to that selfish hate
Carved in empty smiles.
Thirst no more for a world hidden in old lies
Drink freely in the beauty of truth’s openness
And walk silently towards the rising sun
And love shall thrive.
Form: Sapphic Stanzas
Tom said to his kitten: Don't hunt! It's hard work!
Leave hunting to others and don't be a burk
Watch me and heed me and later admire
We'll slink to the future - a far distant fire
There sat some bald apes - one cooking some meat
Fur clad and thick bearded and great hairy feet
Tom stares at the bald apes - wide eyed and miaows
They throw him a meat scrap - the kit just says "wow"
Did I just see that? Blind luck or a trick?
Why did they feed you? They must be so thick?
Tom cat said just listen. I have a great plan
We'll domesticate bald apes to better catkind
We'll make them build wheat farms then store all the grain
To attract vermin rodents - our staple buffet
Breed bovine and ovine to fill up our bowl
Carved wood then ceramic then hand made with gold
From stone tools to bronze craft to iron we lead
The wheel and the ploughshare makes sure that we feed
Mud huts to brick houses to keep us bone dry
Wood fires, coal boilers - to cold say goodbye
We'll make them cat worship - a pyramid scheme
Then reinvent printing - cat posters supreme
Electrics and TVs and PCs - the net
Cat websites and movies on YouTube - no sweat
Then rockets and spacecraft to aim for the stars
But somewhere warm thank you - it's real cold on Mars
They might have big brains but what's better than clever
Is ruling the clever - forever and ever
And when we are settled in their mortgaged homes
With sofas and cushions and beds for our thrones
And though we are fed, we'll go back to our roots
And stare at them wide eyed - miaow to be cute
Entry for "the love of kittens" contest
7th January 2017
Why have you abandoned me and left?
You were my dearest and most precious gift
********
We have to forgive each other
For what we both have done
Everybody makes mistakes, I’m not a saint
Neither are you a nun!
*******
Wow! At last! I got over you!
Has it taken you long to do it too?
Please don’t say, because I’m already blue!
*******
I know that love is a look a word a touch and a kiss
And I really loved you, so I had to stay away
That’s why I had to do this!
*******
Will I ever forget her hazel eyes and their long lashes?
Though nothing now remains but memories and ashes
After the flame of love was put out
What do I want? What am I talking about?!
*******
I loved you so much didn’t you know that?
Didn’t you see it in my eyes?
The sincere love, no tricks nor lies
But I was worrying so much about your repute
Till I even forgot how beautiful you are and cute!
********
You’re mad!
I know this is what you may say
But your love had a price, and I had to pay!
Blues
are cutting me like a knife
all the way down
down to my soul
somebody please play some rock? '?n?' ?roll
maybe if i can get up and,? ?bop and stroll
it might be balm
for these blues
cutting me like a knife
like a mill-wheel grinding me
Blues
wear me down
i am ground up like fine meal
won't somebody throw down some jazz
something smooth-melodic,? ?to help me heal
cause i can not deal
with blues,? ?like a mill-wheel turning
turning to grind me down
every note pierces my heart with pain
change the music but refrain
from the same.? ?play ska,? ?gospel or reggae
rap or metal to chase my blues away
except country of course with its repeat
of loss,? ?despondency and defeat
that pierce my heart,? ?pierce my heart,? ?as if a pike
cause the stories told are so much like
the Blues
*First stanza below is not mine, but the other two are meant to be
added to it along with other stanzas (if our stanzas get chosen by the sponsor)
*Woven are these pages in poetic verse,
With bare threads of our deepest feelings,
You will find laughter, tears and remorse,
and words of wisdom, prayer and healings.
Sorrows drip from our pens so poignantly.
Elegantly too our joys are expressed.
We can even imagine things we cannot see.
With imagery, our loveliest thoughts are dressed.
We write for we must, and our words pouring out
can never be stopped, for as our words surge -
like rivers to the ocean we flow; without doubt,
we are one and the same as together we merge.
April 27, 2020
for Krish Radhakrishna's Poetry Anthology add your stanzas Poetry Contest
pieces of my heart, like m&m’s tossed up in the air.
cracked shells in stanzas, chocolate covered hands.
tears melt, ice cubes shatter, scatter-brain affair.
exhaustion of merry-go-round emotions, blurring of wonderland.
i sort m&m’s into rainbow strands, fingerprint hues.
search for golden words to place in picture frames.
cognitive digits, creatively divide poetic stanzas - reds to blues.
1/28/2017
SEVEN FOR CHAOS AND ORDER CONTEST/NETTE ONCLAUD
Descending the hill, they danced to old reels
Most composed with a Southerner's pen
Four years the blood spilled, half a million were killed
But the States were united again
Celebration complete, the Rebs left Tennessee
The young soldier said, "Sarge, no more slaves
Just one thing bothers me, they were already free
From the bulk of those sent to their graves"
And the sargeant replied as he gazed at the skies
"It's the mighty and wealthy who rule
And they get to decide, while the poor pay the price
But it's God who determines the fool"
(Eileen)
Your heavy heart is weary, worn
Bloody and bruised, it’s fiercely torn
To Loneliness, a vow you've sworn
To dwell in night without a morn
Come inside
To live and love, you've lost your will
Of sorrow’s cup you've had your fill
Desire’s longing, quiet…still
Heart frozen by rejection’s chill
Come inside
Chorus
Come inside my life, feel now the fire
Come inside my heart, dip in desire
Come inside my soul, to love aspire
Come inside my mind, let me inspire
(Richard)
Let love’s essence, flow through your veins
Experience true peace again
Live in a world devoid of pain
Find shelter from the pouring rain
Come inside
To live and love, you'll know the thrill
Of blissful cup, you'll drink your fill
Desire quenched, within my will
In the calm, let your heart be still
Come inside
(Eileen)
Chorus
Come inside my life, feel now the fire
Come inside my heart, dip in desire
Come inside my soul, to love aspire
Come inside my mind, let me inspire
Refrain
Come
Come
Come inside my body, come inside
Come and dip inside my pleasure’s tide
Come inside my body, come inside
Come glide into heaven, come abide
Come
Come
Come…..I N S I D E
Eileen Manassian Ghali with last two stanzas added by Richard Lamoureux. :) :) :) Thanks, Richard, for thinking it could be lengthier and adding your own personal touch. Love collabing with you. :)
be careful
when you
invite new
metaphors
into your
fresh built
box of a poem.
a small
house is
perfect
or a poet
that has
few silver
words left
in their
pocket.
lower case
is cheaper
than uppercase.
as you nail
penny-nails
with your
wobbling
flat head
hammer;
simpleness
into
all your
lines.
be careful
metaphors
can act
like
miniature
tigers.
some
of the
metaphors
want to start
problems
to scratch
at your
floorboard
& swing from
your curtains
with their
sharp
retractable claws
& climb
on your
window panes
& leave
their nose-prints
impressed
on each
window
in each
of your
stanzas.
take the
broom
& chase
the troublesome
ones out
past the door jams
of your poem.
keep the
few
metaphors
that are
asleep
at the
hearth.
the similes
you scattered
as a homecoming
blessing
turn into
see-through
butterflies
& flap
their wings
in symmetry
of beats
up the
wainscot
the sparrow
of your
voice
awakes on
the swinging
perch of
your small simple
birdcage
& begins
to chirp
& the
symbols
hiding in
the nooks
& crannies
come to your
table to steal
crumbs & slices
of green cheese
that you
have sliced
quietly
from
the moonrise
slowly
forming
like onion skin
in the
lightbulb
you keep
dutifully hidden
in your head.
symbols squeak
and the metaphors
dream
of goldfish
swimming
in the periods
the little bowls
you
place
in kindness
at the ends
of your stanzas.
He's so phoney in poems, moaning only,
same tone, same story,
a war he can't endure anymore that beats him sore and sorry,
exploring his core for strength absent before in writes of sheer folly.
Wanting to write powerfully like Churchill or Eminem,
but unable to create an impact as do many men.
It's easy to ridicule the metaphorical irrelevance,
as he revamps old writes lacking in intelligence.
Always using the same twist from behind a different mist,
ending with insistence he can return from great distance,
but he's not fooling anyone,
his fall's evident to everyone.
If he'd focused when he wrote this and applied a thought process,
he might have aspired beyond mono syllable rhyming and formed continuous structure,
but too useless to see it rewrote and tidied of mess,
he tirelessly goes on n on with simple investment of
contagious rupture.
He used to try and rhyme three words in each line,
double-rhyming words that evoke the mind,
concludes over time ease occurred with decline,
now forcing sounds heard or spoke in the rows behind.
By this point in the poem he is aware of his failure,
after reading back the words he's just tailored,
happy to cliche but not be a sunken sailor,
he tells of new fire, desire and determination to respond braver.
Follows the procedure of "seeking the peak",
covering up the fact he's pathetically weak,
forgets he lives worn down, always too tired,
and suddenly he's electrically alive and wired,
the traits of the self conning compulsive liar.
Self critical now in his inhospitable soul,
existing solely pitiful on the whole,
typically critique doesn't motivate towards the goal,
believing he's snowballing too fast to stop the roll.
All he takes from being mentally broken,
is his bravery to tell and let it be spoken,
doesn't care how they judge his way of coping,
because all he has left is being completely open.
Like a thief
Rich words come
Wise, warm, rhymes
Nouns and verbs
Verse still, light
Quaint hues, blue
In silent
Odes, the truth
Rains down hope
Tricube Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
January 24, 2023