Best Still No Sign Poems


Premium Member Something's Missing

It's up and down and twice around
    With an ample side of snark and leeks.
And an assortment of lies divided by pi,
    To find this thing I seek.

I searched my bedside dresser
    In the hope to find it there.
But not to be, so I was forced to see
    If it was in a box beneath the stairs.
The box was bare and empty
    Which did not aid in my relief.
As i was lo' to explain, why it no longer contained
    My most cherished held beliefs.

But I digress and that aside,
    I looked beneath a bedroom chair.
And where I thought... my valor ought,
    I found just a wisp of empty air.
Undaunted by this troubling news,
    I remembered a desk that I had bought.
Where I found a mortal slice of wasted life
    But still no sign of what I sought.

So undeterred, I left the room
    To explore the very nature of my soul.
Where I was forced to roam with no one home
    And found just a bigger hole.
I then paddled through my memory
    To bring to bear both time and space.
But the fog of age is a paltry sage
    And would not expose its hiding place.

I remember not too long age
    When It had been my ardent guide.
I'm not afraid to tell, it had served me well
    With no providence denied.
But with many years of gross neglect,
    It had become a shadow of my past.
And something so grand without a plan...
    Is never meant to last.

So my search proved vain and fruitless
    But I attempt to soldier on.
And in my despair, I turned to prayer
    To question where my love for life had gone.

                      The End

*Dedicated to those just having a bad day.
*I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's Your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day or so.

From Dusk Till Dawn

She got it for her wedding gift,
                                        but she dropped it when she fell off the cliff,
                                                it sank to the bottom of the ocean,
                                      and the excitement caused a great commotion.
 
                                                  From dusk till dawn
                                                they float on the ocean,
                                                    from dusk till dawn
                                              they were filled with emotions,
                                                      sunrise, sunset
                                                 and still nothing in their nets.
 
                                         They went deep sea fishing in a fishing boat,
                                        searching for the pearl in the Bivalvia's throat,
                                          with cracked lips and scorched backs,
                                                 they drift around the ocean,
                                                everyone with great devotion.
 
                                               Suddenly she bursts out in tears,
                                               and explains how it was so dear.
                                            They dived to the bottom of the ocean,
                                            floating back and forth in slow motion,
                                                   life at risk from shark attack,
                                                but she did not care about that.
                                                   They caught a hundred fish
                                            but still no sign of her priceless gift.
 
                                                When they went back to land
                                             she saw a clam moving in the sand
                                               she opened the little clam
                                           and her precious pearl fell right into her hand.
 


                                                  ©2013 Christine Phillips

Pray For Rain

When heaven is shut up, and there is no rain,
because they have sinned against thee; if they
pray toward this place, and confess thy name,
and turn from their sin ...
Then hear thou in heaven, and forgive the 
sin of thy servants ... and give rain upon the land
1 Kings 8:35 - 36



The land is parched,
there has been no rain in over a year
The river is bone dry,
forecast says the skies will remain clear

The cattle are dying,
as are all the crops
You’re bleeding credit,
and still no sign of any raindrops

It is for certain,
a famine is afoot
The sky’s an iron curtain,
all of your savings are took
The eyes of the wife and kids,
have an empty, fatalistic look
And you cry, 
because you don’t understand why

You’ve done all you can,
you even sold your best gun
Listen to the barren land,
you’ve left something undone

That holy book on the top shelf
covered in cobwebs and dust
Better open it while you’re able,
even better, in it start to trust

Although you never once 
stopped praying for rain
Is it the right prayer that you’re asking?
Everyday you pray for rain,
so you can go on living
But you never asked once 
to have your sins forgiven

Pray for rain
Pray for understanding
Pray for rain
Pray for forgiveness too

Go back to your first love,
your God, whom you abandoned
like an ungodly fool
Then say your prayers,
asking God to have mercy on you



>


A Lonely Eclipse

The smell of dirt and concrete
The sound of cars and crickets
As I glare into the night sky
Patiently, I await its appearance
Perhaps it is shy as it hides
But it shall reappear again
As my emotions begin to clear up
I can see the red emanating from it
But as soon as I can see it,
It soon runs away again
Hiding behind the grey darkness,
But it cannot dim its glow
"When will it show, oh, where will it go?" I wonder
"Oh, why is it afraid?" 
Is it fearful of the peering pupils?
As all colours look up to the sky except one,
As red is afraid to show its eyes
I begin to lay on my back, 
As I touch my heart and feel the beat throughout me
I continue to wait for the hidden to become the unhidden
I stare straight up, with patience
My hand begins to reach out towards the night which feels so close
I attempt to touch it as disappointment rushes over me,
As I realize my palm does not connect with the sky
Again, I look into the grey,
But still no sign of red or white,
As my heart begins to sway
Is it gone? Shall I depart? 
Or will it soon show its true form?
Doubt fills my heart as it begins to darken,
Both it and the night sky
Then, I suddenly feel a sense of anger and abandonment
Has it left me just like the glows of the night?
The liveliness and bright lights left suddenly,
As I begin to assume that it shall leave me too
My energy begins to dissipate as I yearn for comfort
Those awaiting it have now left it,
As now it has left them
Only I lie in the middle of the concrete,
Craving for something that may never show
I stand to yell at the dark night, asking
"Where do you hide and why do you lie?!"
My skin begins to itch as I peer into myself
Time passes and death awaits us all, 
I realize time is only temporary
I only saw glimpses of colour,
As I finally realize that the grey and black darkness may never clear away
Grey shall cover the black
Grey shall cover the red
Silence is all I hear now.
© Ali Ahmed  Create an image from this poem.

Flowers In Her Hair

Across the ocean sings a lady with flowers in her hair
 She dances in the moonlight sky imagining you there
 Pretending she's a princess
 Laughing, having fun
 Streaming tears of happiness waiting for the sun

 The night is slowly ending 
 Tomorrow is on it's way
 Quietly awaiting for another lovely day

 She lay to rest so peacefully upon Earth's precious ground
 Her day of beauty and the love that she has found

 Still no sign of morning light
 No whispers in the air
 The only sign of any life are the flowers in her hair


©2014 Tamilyn Love

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis 

Tracing footsteps in the overgrown field 
where sunlight and raindrops date
Counting sticker burrs like lemon drops 
in a candy counter display
Hitchhikers I remember them called, 
lovers of socks and pant legs I think
Each with their own story to tell, 
minute worries clinging to that last hope of life

The path, familiar but then again not, 
it leads somewhere else now
Dragging shadows like kite strings, 
knotted in the weave of its boundaries
Taking in my surroundings and releasing them  
for another may find them useful as well,
I find still no sign of that last phrase, 
spoken softly but misunderstood…is my understanding

A collection of stone and gravel stew 
finds my shoe souls imaging in the dry dusty paste
Outlines of thoughts, perhaps poetry in oblong shapes and 
perfect tread patterns stamped and posted, 
showing no indication of my ever being here
Staring now at a cocoon on a lone branch, I see 
what my life had been, dark and lonely, dreaming of the colors, 
feeling confined but grateful for the transformation

You smiled, I smiled, my wings appeared and I flew, 
as might a rainbow on a balloon, soaring until the tiniest speck 
in the sky could be me or just something on your glasses
Light headed in a good way, free at last to define love, 
the metamorphosis of my heart, 
the changing of a man into more than he could hope to be, 
seeking and finding that blossom,
sweet nectar, a sugary substance, love deep in the petals of life 

Though, no one told me of the life span before hand, 
no calendar hanging on my wall with circled dates highlighted in red,
nor a stamp of expiration anywhere on my heart, 
good if used by…used by, funny I should write that now
as my attention rests still on this cocoon, 
wondering where I went wrong, 
somewhere on this path lies the answer…
for I once was a butterfly, just as you will be small cocoon, 

at which time you will learn…

it is easier to fly with a heart that is unbroken


Premium Member The Darkened Sky Stole My Tears

Darkness devours my miserly despondent room.
Wide windows covered shutting all luminous light
A taciturn thief that stole even the stars.
I sigh, a sudden suffering, it steals my sorrow from my eyes.
“The Darkened Sky Stole My Tears.”  


She had left for good, no reason given.
Sorrowful soreness cling to my weary heart.
I feel a dreadful dirge hurting inside my breast,
My humble heart dances a worthless wake.
And still no sign of a flash of light in the dark.

My heart beats an echo of an illogic rhythm.
A mournful lullaby comes and goes in my head.
I curse the hush of darkened air, desperate echoes.
The mournful dirge suddenly flickers light
Through louvers and then I find my dreadful tears.

Placed 1

These Lines

I have waited 
And still wait
For break of dawn 
and Nita, my woman

I have sorrowed 
And still sorrow
This hook of fate
Delay not my woman!

I have thirsted
And still thirst
At the fountain of love
And still wait for her.

Now the sun has risen
And workers hurry to town
And children back to school
But still no sign of Nita!

Nita, if these lines 
should reach you
Hasten! 
My heart is sore with yearning!

Missing Piece

Missing Piece

   There is a piece of me missing. Not sure where to find it. I've looked in my room for it. Still can't find it. Went to look in the living room for it. Nope, not there. I've asked my kids to help me find the missing piece. Nope, they can't help me find it either. I have searched up, down and left to right. Still can't find it. 

  I've been looking for this missing piece for a long time now. I think I have been looking for it for years. Maybe even decades. Still no sign of it. The piece will remain missing. 

    Have you seen my missing Sanity?

How I Missed You

Half past April, still no sign
What were you waiting for?
To surprise me?  To remind me?
To fill us with gratitude?
My oh my, how I missed you.

In our frozen rotation
We grew closer, yes we knew
The darkest of places, where
Only our faith could pull us through.
My oh my, how I missed you.

That first day of spring, please bring it with you,
In your suitcase of sunshine and shimmering skies,
We’ll unpack together and watch the sunrise,
 We’ve come to the end of the way I missed you.

I left the doors open, 
To our blue wave garden of trust,
The end of our winter has only begun
Welcome, we made it, but only just.
My oh my, how I missed you.

Premium Member Ballad: Just Another Odd Guy

Ballad : Just another odd guy*

He was just another odd guy
   With a self-abnegating smile
He spun no known wilful ploy
   Enough – just look at him a while

Others came to camp by the Seine
   And watch the folks saunter by
His place by the Pont , it was plain
   No one ever wished to occupy

He made no show of his wild child’s face
   Querying side-boards curled round ears
Nor no look of pain would surface
   From behind the mask’s ravaged years

He was just another odd guy
With a self-abnegating smile

Meek children looked him in the eye
   Where some gleam of mutual ties shone
Babies blinked hardly an eye
   To take in his clucked smile forgone



No hint of a past hung o’er him
   No woman came by with a flask
Nor some grown lad with the shopping
   He emerged from behind a mask

He spun no known wilful ploy
Enough – just look at him a while

No regrets sagged down his full lips
   His chin held firm and tipped upward
Bushy brows spoke well of his tips
   Though crown to nose-bud bit wayward

One could read weary clothes threadbare
   His shoes could speak of miles out-worn
And the wriggly strands of his haïr
   Reminded one of wild thoughts torn

Doves and crows alike found his hand
   Outstretched with crumbs from some table
No sparrow stilled on wing sought land
   Without some morsel to unravel





Weeks went by in screeching silence
   And still no sign of him rode where
His winged friends kept in his absence
   The stone-slabbed bench warm through bare air

Some unsuspecting passer-by
   Wrapped in lone airs comes to this spot
Makes as if to stay with a sigh
   Yet moves along to some other plot

He was just the other odd guy
   With the self-abnegating smile
His trusted friends all gone to fly
   In weird worlds beyond the last mile

All looking for that other guy
   With his empty hands and a smile
He would spin no known wilful ploy
   Just remember him for a while

•	After posting the poem, I came across the line :
« I’m just an average guy » in the Masqueradors’
song of 1969, so I’m constrained to change the same
phrase in my poem to : « Just another odd guy. » 
Things like this happen when we use words.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2013
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Anxieties Climb

You're worried he hasn't called
though he didn't say he would.
And wait for the phone to ring,
knowing he'd call if he could.

You peer out of the window
once more for the hundredth time.
And when there is still no sign,
anxieties start to climb.

You wonder why; he's so late,
maybe it's a traffic jam.
Or perhaps he's at some bar,
and just doesn't give a damn!

He'd better have an excuse
or head home on the double.
Yet you pray that he isn't
in any sort of trouble.

All is quickly forgotten
as he pulls into the drive.
And you greet him with a kiss,
thankful he's home; and alive.


(Quatrain)


9/25/2015

Flatline

.LIL BOI IN DA HOUSE

MOMMA LAYIN ON DA COUCH

JUS GOT DONE SHOOTIN UP

NOW SHES PASSED OUT

BOI SAYS MOMMY WAKE UP

BUT SHE DOESNT MOVE

HE SHAKES HER N SHAKES HER

BUT SHE HIGH ON DAT JUICE

STILL NO SIGN OF LIFE

LIL BOI STOMACH GROWLS

BUT DERES NUTTIN TO EAT TONITE

LIL BOI WONDERS OFF WHILE MOMMA IS SLEEP

SHE LEFT DA DOOR OPEN

NOW HES OUT IN DA STREET

DOESNT KNO TO LOOK BOTH WAYS

DEN DERES A TRUCK BEEP BEEP

SIRENS ERRYWHERE WHILE MOMMA STILL SLEEP

LADY CRIES OUT

WHERES DA BOIS MOTHA

WHERES DA BOIS FATHA

DADDY PULLS UP N ASKS WATS DA HOLLA

LOOKS DOWN N SEES DA SON DAT WONT BREATHE

HE GETS ON ONE KNEE N YELL

GOD, DONT TAKE HIM PLZ

BUSTS IN DA HOUSE N WAKES DA MOMMA

MOMMA REEKS OF CRACK N GUANGA

HE DRAGS HER OUTSIDE N SHOWS HER DA SON

SHE BREAKS OUT INTO TEARS N ASK WATS GOIN ON

SHE WAS TOO HIGH TO STAY AWAKE

NOW HER SONS LIFE IS AT STAKE

AMBULANCE RUSHES TO DA HOSPITAL

DEY TRY TO REVIVE DA BOI

TIME AFTA TIME

HIS LIFE DEPLOYS

FAMILY IN DA WAITIN ROOM

MOMMA IS DOWN OFF HER HIGH

BUT ITS TOO LATE

HER SONS LIFE JUS HIT FLATLINE

Premium Member Slow Down

Slow down!  by Viv Wigley


The first week of September,
still no sign of Halloween,
a shop window full of Christmas cards
the second I have seen.
By the time my Pumpkin's binned and
fake spider on its last legs,
the shops will all have tinsel and
a stack of Easter eggs.
New year brings Summer holidays,
and brochures through my door,
Burns night there's bonfire toffee,
it's almost ten months before.
I'm getting on in years a tad,
my pace of life will slow,
retailers make the years flash by
as fast as it can go.
I'm hoping I've a few more years
before my life goes down the pan,
Oh,no- I'm only sixty-two,
here's ANOTHER funeral plan!
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

Another Sunny Day

another sunny day has come and will go away this is how my day began.sitting in the sun on 
the front porch of "kathy's hair salon"basking in the sun and being chocked by the clouds of 
cigerette smoke in the air.two young girls in a mustang looking cute talking o the phone 
never realized it might be there last goodbye.im swamped my mosquitos and traffic all 
around,never imagining the relity of that horrible crash sound.
bang crunch slam.spun around and flew into the ground people screaming all 
around."someone call 911'.a man came running from out of the crowd screaming outloud
to the girl on the ground.he checked for her pulse as he watched her bleed gave her c.p.r
with air to feed.no help had arrived no one coming to help only god knows whats next in this 
horrible mess.
she gasps for air but cannot move its obvious to all she lost control.no movement in her body 
no voice from her mouth who is this little girl what happend to her world?exhaust fumes mixed 
with gasoline is corroding the air still no sign of help is on the way there.to the man on the 
scene he only wants to help but to others shes a black girl and really nothing else.
to end one life to spare one more as she lays helpless on the ground.
suddenly a siren from out of the crowd rushing to help but not allowed.the crowd begins to 
throw bottles at the men on the scene,it becomes a factor that race is what they mean.little 
girl lost in a white mans town,paralized and confined and wheelchair bound.finally they get to 
help the girl but suddenly she realizes her friend might not be alive.
as they put this little girl in the ambulance she looks to her right and sees whats next.its her 
frien in the crowd standing tall standing proud giving her the finger as she walks away.

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