Best Stopping Poems
What is holding you back?
What is stopping you?
What is making you uncomfortable
about asking?
about wanting?
about dreaming?
about wishing?
about expecting?
about planning?
about setting new goals?
about learning new things?
about figuring out other ways?
about being your most excited self?
about opening yourself up to new opportunities?
New possibilities? New people? New places? A new job?
Or is it a who?
As quiet blackness deepened
I lay awake my heart in check,
The cool night wind blew
And welcome silence grew…
_______
Unanticipated music exploded
Roused me from bed rest,
I tiptoed to its source:
Dark sounds from downstairs,
Nearer, higher, and louder
Till it reached the hallway.
He grasped my hand,
Whirled it to turn me twice,
Held me close, went on trotting steps
Slow, quick, quick; slow, quick, quick;
Slow, slow, quick, quick...
He never gets tired, he liked the dance.
He led; I followed - his greatest joy;
In perfect timing to his bidding,
I swayed wherever he flung me,
His steps were full of variation –
He liked it that way;
While I only had one reaction –
Receive his urgings.
Perfect dance he'd always say because
It is with such ease when partner is open
That controlled movement is played.
Ungraceful dance I never liked,
But all this time it kept me alive:
His music and diverse steps I sought
And to it I humbly swayed.
Tonight I let him led again,
Just like the other days and nights.
The darkness of the night was strained,
It was only the curtains that were swaying,
To the night breeze with grace,
Stark of light peeped out from the room,
My hands and feet went frozen like ice,
I heard a different tune within, sad, weary,
But slowly roused with excitement
And anger underneath... Heated me up
Ablaze, my eyes red-stained -
He held me closer to him, and I -
Pulled myself too tight to him
He was pleased I saw it in his sated eyes
As I meekly submitted… for the last time.
We did slow, quick, quick steps for a two
Or more and then he let me go; I trotted
Far away from him then back to him
Without his behest, and out of rhythm
His steps were outside our dance floor…
Down the stairs...In open position he lay there,
In his face I saw his dance - the macabre
dance - I never liked at all. His eyes dazed –
He had his final dance with me after all.
_____
The night was cold, yet I felt warm, and the music gone,
The curtains stopped swaying at the night winds’ prodding.
-maria
8/11/14
I just stopped in my tracks
hearing those beautiful verses
soft, sweet, and a little bit sultry
What she called broken English
drew me near and
ripped my heart to pieces.
I came closer and saw
staring...
those rich chestnut eyes
roasting on a fire deep inside
the smell of lavender fragranced the air
from that flowing fauna hair
floating me through fields
of wildflowers...
Bright yellow and white daisies sang out to me
surrounded by bold blue Pimpernel
and purple prairie clover..
my mind was drifting away
Then you noticed me and smiled
a big how are you smile
stopping me again in my tracks
It was then and it was there I knew
there was no turning back
I knew my love I've found, in you
Bleak winter Melbourne morning,
a cold wind coming in
from across the Bay
and blowing down the street,
past the Esplanade Cafe
with the smell of coffee
and warm air spilling out
from an open door.
I stop, look at the cake
and pastry display through
the window, the basket
of freshly baked croissants,
Danish pastries topped with
strawberries and apricots
and glazed with syrup.
A cloud of steam
from the espresso machine
adds a touch of the surreal.
Anticipation moistens my mouth
on the sight of French vanilla
slices plump with custard
and cream, muffins erupting
from their papery patties,
Portuguese tarts, thick slices
of carrot cake topped
with icing. I savor each
with an imaginative bite
and decide my treat…
then groan. I've left my wallet
at home.
( for Deb M )
I believe, I may have missed the boat
The water’s deep, I couldn’t float
Perhaps the marks I set weren’t high
The tide’s in now – I’ll wave bye-bye
I read Thoreau and Frost, I know
Of wilderness and falling snow
Of Roads Not Taken tongue in cheek
Of singing trees and babbling creek
With pomp and ceremony flyin’
I stopped to sniff a dandelion
To watch a honey bee rejoice
At making such a tasty choice
I sit beside the croaking pond
A heron blending with the frond
A muskrat watches warily
A dragonfly upon my knee
My pants are frayed, my kayak weathered
I share my time with furred and feathered
Visiting these woods, their home
Leave them, as I came, alone
Life ...
'Tis a precious gift
As is the time we're given on this earth
Our world spins at a speed that's hard to keep up with
And it seems no matter how we allot those minutes each day
There's never quite enough of them to fit our needs
Or accomplish all we hope to ...
So, taking a hundred seconds-or-so to read this little verse
May not seem like a big deal
But ALL time is so precious and irreplaceable
And I want you to know, sincerely
That I appreciate it so very much - these moments granted my words
Or any time spent reading or commenting on my work
For sharing our time is a priceless offering
An offering that we never get back
So, whether you like my poetry or not
I am thankful for these minutes that you've gifted me
And I pray this blessing returns to you soon
That you find something within this occasion that's worthwhile
And know how very appreciative I am
That you stopped by
Thank you!
This is a love
that is bitter as citrus
that leaves me burning coldly
bowed head, clenched fists
on a park bench
in the middle of winter
The people see
but they can't help it
they can't help me from falling
so they walk by with
shadows spinning
like spiderwebs in their
eyes
and their fingers
to their
lips
Don't touch her
they must say to their unruly children
Don't disturb her
or she might blow away
in a thousand starburst patterns
of skin
because I'm grieving
for a loss that has yet to find me
and I'm falling
as calmly and as irrevocably as a snowflake
rescinding into myself
into ash on the pavement
I can't save myself from this
dear
My fingers are too cold
to reach inside my chest anymore
I'm untouchable
I let my eyes burn into the sky
because somehow that's where I
expect him to be
but I'm always
always wrong
STOPPING BY BOATS ON A BLOWY EVENING
Whose boat this is I think I know
But still I want to sail it so
He will not see me jumping in
To take it out there for a row
The mountains think the theft’s a sin
The hills watch me with eerie grin
As I make circles in the moonlight -
Splash and dip, pull out , push in
The water here is clear and bright
It holds the promise of the night
The prow leaps o’er the lake-glass vast
As now I pull with all my might
The boat is lovely, small and fast
With raking oars and folded mast -
The promise which it makes will last
Long after waves and wake are past
…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Two favorite poets are saluted in this parody. Robert Frost is the author of STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING, and its rubaiyat form and broad story are mimicked here. William Wordsworth was the inspiration behind the STOLEN BOAT exerpt from the PRELUDE, and the ideas of the boat story are also woven in to the rubaiyat.
Impromptu night journey into snowy
wood
Face laced with scarf; head covered
by hood
Sturdy mare blanketed; each foot
shod with stud
A swift nod, gentle tap instinctively
understood
Gallant mare plows forward
furrowing ice and mud
Chilled air quickens my pulse;
thickens my blood
The howling wind around the
swiveling sleigh doth whirl
Into onrushing faces stinging, icy
pellets hurl
Along path's edges glistening trees
their mast's twirl
O'er head stalking raven's
patronizing wings unfurl
The chortling wind, raven screeches;
my head hairs curl
Around the bend, loomed the
cottage of stately earl
I gathered the reins the careening
sleigh to abruptly turn
Acclimatized mare already my
studied thoughts did discern
Onto the swept, manicured lane
hopeful feet did churn
Beckoning lamp on distant doorstep
did intently burn
Already alerted, spry earl awaited
our intentions to learn
On arrival, our tired petition, lowly
station did not spurn
Inspired by Robert Frost's:
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy
Evening
Freda's an obnoxious old woman
She‘d say loudly ‘I want it right now’
Her long suffering husband Timothy
covertly called her a bossy old cow!
Each weekend they’d both go shopping
Freda would always jump the queue,
declaring in her brash whiny voice
that she’s bursting to go to the loo!
Poor Timothy would stand there
his face turning a shade of bright red,
she’d say ‘just get on with the packing’
and give him a cuff round his head!
Last week she pushed in front of me
and then gave me such a nasty glare,
Timothy stood looking embarrassed
perhaps wishing that he wasn’t there
Still, I ended up having the last laugh
when the manager came over to me
Saying you’re our millionth customer
so everything is your trolley’s for free!
Freda jumped up and down like a banshee
exclaiming loudly that this just wasn’t fair -
that she’d ONLY swapped places with me
meaning she should’ve really been there
Timothy seethed and said shut the duck up
(Freda looked like she’s about to explode) ...
He said ‘maybe this will teach you a lesson’
and he turned on his heels with their load!
This couple no longer go shopping
(last I heard Tim’s seeking a divorce)
He’s moved back in with his mother
and spends weekends on the golf course!
Fiction Poem – just having a giggle
04/12/20
Random Free Write:
Just flowing - writing
and not stopping to think
or even to lift my pen
I kept going and the words seemed to have no end
Understanding that the process is a simple one
Love everyone and
stear free of the wicked one
I'm not sure if it was winter or spring
But, I gave way to all the flaws and imperfections
and realized that this is me
The change came when I saw fit
and not when someone else decides
It's not hard to forgive
And even easier to forget
Does that not reflect love and also what it begets?
Except too many hold grudges and even
pretend to be angry beyond whats necessary
Caught up in someone elses problem
and not dealing with their own is a hard burden to carry
Let it go
stop negativity where it begins
Cut people short if you have to
because this is your life you have to live
Be on the lookout for those looking to devour you
Pray for those who do ill sh@! to you
Respond in a way that makes them realize they love you
and hope it inspires change
Still maintain dignity and move on to something new
Growing, building up treasures for a place greater than
you can even dream to go
It's the simple things that help make life flow
I could go on and on with this practice flow
Writing and stoping to think or lift my pen
This is one of those poems that didn't make it to the waste bin.
Why stopping to speak the truths?
Where there is ignorance
of the true word of God,
there is all sorts of evil.
Why stopping to speak the truths?
People who really know true God,
are not:
unjust,
tribalist,
racists,
discriminators,
Heartless,
Killers,
Robbers,
Xenophobic,
Antagonists
Hypocrites
Liars
Haters.
Why stopping to speak the truths?
Happy is someone who loves the truths.
I heard drums kick in. Now I hear that music. Wait, What's THAT?!
(Sung to HELLO, I LOVE YOU by the Doors.)
Oh, yeah, she's swaying, so get out of her way.
Oh, no, she's stopping now, she's looking my way.
Oh, yeah, sashaying and she won't be defied.
Oh, no, a goddess who just won't be denied.
She's drops her glasses low
Just to watch me sizzle slow.
She coos just like a dove.
The panther purrs steamy summer love.
Oh, yeah, she's swaying, so get out of her way.
Oh, no, she's stopping now, she's looking my way.
Oh, yeah, sashaying and she won't be defied.
Oh, no, a goddess and she won't be denied.
Her curves turn tight and free.
A brand new form of geometry.
Her eyes like lasers, melting men into mush
When she styles, she gives me such a rush.
Why Am I Bending To Those Strings?!
She bobs her head and her luscious mane.
Now she’s off to tease in a faster lane.
Do you want to see her coyly smile?
If she gave an inch, would you run a mile?
Oh, yeah! Oh No!
Oh, Yeah! Oh, No! Oh yeah! Oh, No! (Repeat and fade out :)
And underneath it all is heard:
She’s fine. Divine. She’s all that a man would crawl for.
My mommas warning me…Rock, yeah
Go on, baby, I’m yours, you’re mine… Yeah…
New York City came to great Excitement!
The people stopped in their tracks to take notice!
Traffic was at a complete stand still!
They were awed at what they were witnessing!
No, it wasn't Batman in the Bat mobile!
What caught their attention!
Was the Pope in the Pope mobile!
Michael Tor 9/24/2015 A little humor welcoming the Pope to NYC.
I love and respect this man.
Republican presidential candidate Rick Santorum, was quoted saying,
" When it comes to climate change, the Pope needs to leave the
science with the scientist." He was quoted, After Rick heard the Pope
address climate change in his speech to Congress. Little did he know
the Pope has a Masters degree in Chemistry, and was a Scientist!
STOPPING FOR FLEAS
Whose fleas these are I think I know
The louse lives in the village though
He will not see me scratching here
As I roll around tired in the snow
My little horse must think it *****
To have a nest of fleas there in his ear
Between his ears his head starts to ache
As other fleas start to come near
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is something he can take
The only other medicine I keep
Is powdered corn made into flake
The fleas are horrid, black, and creep
But I have promised him corn in heap
He smiles and eats before I sleep
And smiles and eats before I sleep.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Note
This rubaiyat is obviously taken from that of Robert
Frost in STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING.
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Entered in Joann Grisetti's Contest Copy Cat Contest