Best Sunnier Poems
Out shopping met an old friend from school
he turns to me serious looking
what are you at these days
Well says I
working for a China man
picking up crumbs
for disabled birds
Those with broken wings
who are unable to fly smiling
to warmer sunnier climates
Whoa he sounded shocked
he said what a job
What's the money like
he asked laughing out loud
I said less than peanuts
out all weathers
Barely feed a mouse
God I am glad he said
that I have bumped into you
saying you have just really cheered me up
What a man really needed
Peanuts I replied
He began laughing
saying that I was a character
really brightened up his dull day
leaving all I heard was him laughing
if our story ends
as all stories must
i’d want to
remember
each chapter
unfolding
as i sift through
the pages of
memories past
see fate's
written word
scribe how
we first met
recollect
sunnier times
treasured within
hear in my head
out from pages
come to life
the echoes
of laughter
in hindsight
reassess
certain chapters
rested against
their bent corners
not time yet
for dreams
to be ripped
at the seams
nor tattered
and tossed
much rather
i'd fancy
deeper meaning
unveil
lenience and mercy
turn angst to dust
make amends
whilst
old bitter flames
turn to ash
smoldering
bury the past
peaceful at last
unfettered
free to etch
on blankness
of pages to come
draw with ink
of dreams
perched
on the wings
of new love
yet to be
written
Collaboration with Sandra Adams
AP: 3rd place 2020, Front Page Pick 2021
*It was you who
........Ruined everything
*I miss
....... My old life
*The peacefulness
........Before you brought chaos
*When i was with you
........Everyday was torture
*Everything was different
........The way the darkness consumed
*My lovely days, the way
........The wretchedness of
*your laugh makes me
........Vomit. Those days i could still
*Giggle freely, forget the world and have fun
.........Are now gone
*You stole my
........Freedom and
*My heart
........ You deprived me of justice
*I hope
........You die, along with
*Your love for me
........ I don't believe that this loneliness
*Is never ending
(Now read only the lines with an asterisk *)
~~This is just another feeble attempt. Similar to my previous poem "It was only me"
A bit more sunnier
In not too long, we’ll see the spring,
for winter will have lost its cling!
Across this earth, we’ll waken to her sweet rebirth.
On the first day of spring, give praise and sing!
Rejuvenate; refresh; rejoice!
Welcome her with the gladdest noise –
In meadows we can meet to dance with merry feet!
Bring flutes, lutes, drums, and a resonate voice!
At spring’s debut, let’s all arise
with gratitude for her sweet prize:
of life, the renewal thereof, and love,
and promises of bluer skies!
Feb. 15, 2019
(looks like first day of spring was just this past March 19!! Praying for sunnier days, in more ways than one!)
My devious plot worked
A beautiful woman talked to me!
All because of my shirt!
I might as well have been superman
All decked out in Canadian Red
If only I had anticipated........
If only my tongue was not tied
Around my neck like rope
I might have had more etiquette
I might have said so, so many things
Or I might have said nothing at all
If only I wasn’t being strangled.......
By my inadequate lack of words
For I saw inside in that flashing moment
A heart so kind and enticingly sweet
Just imagine if I had been so bold
To kiss such a Parisii so sweet
Even if this took the gallantry of time.......
Imagine if I had not stumbled
My tongue between my feet
If only I had said to her...........
Would you ever like to meet?
Coffee, wine or patisserie?
Envious thoughts of sunnier days
Envelopes filled with un-mailed thoughts
Chandelier dreams light somber fall skies
Coffee cups waiting for a second taste
Alas I said good bye and turned away
Shyness hidden deep inside of me
Was the victor of the day
So if you ever should read this verse
I hope I bring you bountiful smiles
Paris of flowers and random encounters.........
You surely succeeded to disarm
If one day, we should ever meet again
Roses by twelve I would thee treat
Boisterous hearts aflame
Blissful brightness gains
Listening as the rain
Drive us both insane
Politely pouting and praying
For sunnier DAYS
Passing the time inside
KNOWING their ravenous thirst
Will never be satisfied .
Caressing, loving embraces
GENTLE whispers
Required hearts AFIRE never
Expire
Insatiable HEARTS can never lie
This undeniable LOVE takes more
Than just bringing down a
RAINBOW from the EMPTYING SKY
TO stop the TEAR DROPS of the
CRY and the promise of
TOMORROW TIMES TOMORROW
By each other's side
Liverpool
When night ends, the fog begins
Heavy as lead!
Shrouding the town:
Once grand
And home of grandeur.
The grand mansions
of old times!
Now in ruins: off white!
Harboring the ghosts of
The grandeur!
Who would have lived in a house
Like this?
My mind wanders;
The eye of my mind
Looking through the silver keyholes!
A wealthy merchant or an industrialist?
What became of the merchants and industries
Of this once mighty Town?
Perhaps the fog shrouding the town
became dense with smoke
Billowing from the ashes of
The industrious!
The Mersey River is just the excuse!
Who knows?
Liverpool: my husband’s home town
Liverpool: the origin of my beloved’s
Mellifluous tongue!
Liverpool: the TOWN of the famous four!
Why dost thou inspire such melancholy
In me?
Liverpool: Once a year, on Christmas day
We remember you: my husband and I!
Our hearts heavy with melancholy
Of the Christmases we spent
On your shores in past years!
Nothing connects us to you! No more!
All the family left your shores!
In mass Exodus!
To sunnier horizons!
Liverpool: one day we will bring our children
To your shores!
So that they will inhale your air!
Understand the roots of their father’s mellifluous
Voice! A voice so rare!
YASEMIN BALANDI
POETICALLY MIME
The vast ash-leaden clouds are in tears again...
The soggy tears like boxing fists - casting bruise
and blues below. Unlike yesterday where they
mirror gentle caress to branchlets and blossoms
smiling in gratitude as they are showered free,
the dust and dirt slithered to them were cleansed
swept by the warm - cold kisses of heaven's cry.
Condescending, blooming sunnier hues of greens,
standing poised and aplomb amidst, respiring anew!
Rainy days chant tunes of melancholy at times
particularly to those who are lost. Alone. Afar.
However, it has to happen for it is nature's rhyme.
Let it be as heaven's cry a bosom of poetic mime.
___________________________________________________
POEM CONTEST: 265 REVISED to any form ANY THEME max of 20 lines
***9th Place***
SPONSORED by: Brian Strand
Written January 21, 2017 @ 23:18 PM
One silent tear rolled from my eye
I wondered why, still wonder why
The Source and I graced windows to the world
Same silhouette of branch stood slumbered
I rose, stepped to face east, with
Its bright and morning star
I stood still, speechless
Then saluted what I saw
I have wished upon a star
It blinked, winked, said nothing
But beamed upon face of earth
Earth's dull crevices; some light, some dark
Some souls seemed troubled
They've shunned the ark
No trace of tear
Just as it appeared, it vanished
I, inside, felt snug.
It's only prelude to winter
Some folks scoot to sunnier shores
Isis will melt at home and abroad
Four seasons alone, ordained by God.
*
My grandparents lived in a drafty old farmhouse,
yet, filled with a warmth, that came from the heart
and a hearth, where we hovered on cold winter nights.
Days were much sunnier, the breezes were brisk,
and the ritual of bedtime, meant taking a risk.
The bedrooms were poised on the back of the house
The heat could not travel the length or about
It took all of our courage when bedtime arrived
removing our layers, we must set aside.
An old fashioned bathroom, and orange Lifebouy soap
cradled in wire, in racks by the sink
A claw footed tub, swallowed one's pride,
with water as cold, as the frost-bite outside.
My bed was a cot, next to her sewing machine,
Under the clock in the frosty, back room
Grams would come in for a minute, or two
long after sundown, and bedtime was due
And although she was stiff, from old joints that would creak
She'd kneel down beside me so softly to speak
Holding my hand, and together, we'd pray
Thanking the Lord for the gifts of the day
A kiss on the forehead,...then off went the light
"Sleep tight, little one,...no worries tonight
I prayed to the Lord that no bedbugs will bite"
My father is not the biological father of my siblings
So I am the bridge, I am the link in the family
I, alone, carry his blood, so it is
all the more poignant, and painful that
I am the daughter who disappoints
I am the daughter who didn't join the Navy
who didn't graduate from college
who didn't marry a military man
who didn't give him a grandson
I am the literature-loving daughter of the man
who can not abide books, the man
with no patience for poetry or art or music (excepting Johnny Cash)
I am the (usually) alcohol-abstaining daughter of the man
who can not seem to show affection without the buzz of beer in him
I live in the land of rain
He has retired to sunnier plains
Still we share the same face
And, for thirty four years, the same last name
I see in me his stubborness
the same silent avoidance of problems and pain
the same wanderlust
the same silly habit of leaving keys in the door
Of hating to wait in airport lounges, in doctor's offices
the same scribbly handwriting
the same distaste for celery and peppers
For better or worse
I am not me
Without him.
7/15/18
Okay that's it
I finally quit
I've had my years of fun
I've got exercise
Clear in my sights
Fat will soon be on the run
Had a problem in
Getting in the gym
The doors won't fit my butt double wide
So in disgrace
I plaster my face
On the window to watch the skinny's inside
In my depressed state
I went and ate
Another meal served up for four
One thing I like
About the places I dine
There's always room in and out the door
Then guilt overwhelms
Like a hellhound
As I was in the middle of my desert
It could have come sooner than this
And for that I am blessed
It could have come during my first course
Here I am back in my boat
Without a paddle to row
My only form of exercise
But before it's to late
I toss a little more dirt on my grave
With another order of double fries
With my meal out of the way
I go back to the start of the day
Which seems to be sunnier than ever
I decide to go for a jog
Before all my arteries clog
Maybe though I'll wait for better weather
................................................................
Here we are a new day
This is the earliest I've ever been late
You know what they say about catching the worm
I stop to eat my worm on the way
IHOP double stack pancakes
Will that worm never learn
The only exercise these days
Is a fork in my face
If this were the Olympics I'd win a prize
I wonder if this is considered a sport
The reaching of maple syrup
And wouldn't squeezing the bottle also be exercise
I'll try tomorrow again
To reign myself in
One of these days it's bound to catch
I'll look to the future in life
Instead of behind
Then at least I won't have to look at my fat...
Clothes in a wardrobe still so neat
Your favourite fragrance makes it so complete
A task set without choice for me
To sort your things not so easily
The jacket you wore for colder times
And the hat for your head for sunnier climes
Are all hanging in their place
Ready for you to wear for your worldly face
I open the drawers in your bedside chest
Where there are things you treasured best
Here’s your watch still ticking away
And pictures of us on Christmas Day
I pack them up or give them away
Mementos of the life you left today
Each one a memory of you
A smile for you now to remember too.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Strawberry Fields Forever
Baby we need to talk
You're eleven now
Boys your age are starting to look
Trust me they are
Stop rolling your eyes, that's not nice
How many times have I told you
To stop rolling your eyes, please
You have those nice ribbons in your hairs
A cute sparkle to your eyes and teeth
A shiny glean to your blond hair
Boys your age are starting to look
You have a growing apple orchard
A yearning strawberry patch
Feet that want to explore
Trust me
Boys your age are starting to look
You have a good head on your shoulder
A better outlook on life
A quest to be the best
Trust me
Boys your age are starting to look
You have blue skies ahead of you
A sunnier life on the horizon
And parents that love you to pieces
Trust me
Boys your age are starting to look
Baby girl, listen
Baby you have a locket
Nice and shiny
And beautiful
You're shapely
You put a gleam into boy's eyes your age
Trust me
Boys your age are starting to look
Inside your locket is your most prized possessions
Listen to me, stop rolling your eyes
You keep it for the man that you love and plan to marry
Trust me
Boys your age are starting to look
Look at me baby, stop rolling your eyes,again
I only want what's best for you
Look at your father
His docket and my locket
Met for the first time
On our Honeymoon
It's was fairy tail
We were Romeo and Juliet
That's what I want for you
Mama wipe those tears out of your eyes
I love you mama,
Grandma's already told me that story
Trust me
I know
Boys my age are starting to look
Mama, I just roll my eyes at them
connie pachecho
12/26/16
Gloria is the lass all the college boys fancied. In fact, she
was the one they dreamed of marrying. Yet, when she walks
through the door at the reunion, she’s unrecognizable! In
truth, she looks like a wrinkled drag queen. A ravishing beauty,
she is no more. Her once pert breasts now hang down like
spaniel ears. Seeing her makes me glad I’ve kept in shape! The
hours spent working out in our private gym and spa each night
have paid off. Marrying a successful surgeon has its perks! Of
course my tan is from weeks aboard our yacht, ‘Cloudless.’
We escape bitterly cold weather by sailing to sunnier climes.
The Caribbean is where we always celebrate Christmas and
New Year. We sip champagne as fireworks explode in starry
streams of gold and silver sparkles in dark inky blue skies.
The room falls silent, all eyes on me as I sashay to Gloria and
we embrace, kissing the air as we did when we were young. All
evening we reminisced. I'm glad I was an ugly duckling. That’s
how I met, Max. My facial reconstruction proved he was the best
plastic surgeon in the world. He performed with the skill of
an haute couture designer and lifted me from depths of dark
depression. I was totally transformed into a catwalk model and
when we married, I knew my future would always be bright.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Lord Byron – She Walks in Beauty