Best Supported Poems
For the rose without season is you
Light between stars shine through your soul
Ocean of kindness whispers your name
Joy resides in those beautiful eyes
Treasure trove,a friend to keep
Humbleness and Honesty your virtues
Open-hearted to all,expecting nothing in return
Mother and Wife who lives life for her beloveds
Admirable for verse,and much more for gentle deeds
Special is the best word which sincierely describes you.
Dedicated to Flo.J Thomas- a friend who supported so many soupers here on ps ,by reading our poetry,and encouraged so many by giving free memberships ,She even sent so many surprise gifts across the ocean,one of which has even reached my own land,and made me so happy.
Today Flo. is gone.Her account is closed,and Her beautiful words are now replaced by an empty page, on this site.This saddens me deeply. It saddens me anytime any souper gets hurt enough to leave.It hurts because poetry 's purpose is not to hurt people but to unite them.Us soupers here should be more careful how to use our words .Lets not let our tongues work faster than our hearts,nor our pretentious minds play the game better than our kindred souls.Someone have hurt Flo badly by stating mean remarks about Her,so I was told.I don't know who that someone is,because Flo was woman enough not to reveal names,but She was hurt,hurt enough to leave here, and close Her account.I can't watch more soupers leave due this nonesense.Pls lets all be more careful how to use our words.I am not pointing fingers at anyone in particular,I am saying this to myself as well.We all need to be more gentle and respectful .Situations like these are making friends considering leaving here for good, and each time one of us is gone, its a huge loss for our soup familyLet us all remember that once we utter a word we cannot take it back.It is ok for us to be different,have our distinct ideas, it is great to share them,but lets do everything with love.
To our dear Flo I say -'Please do return to poetrysoup and open a new account.I am sure you are greatly missed by many,sweet lady with an uplifting spirit.Thanks for being You.Pls Come Back '.
POTD 20 Dec 2018
Like sand in an hour glass
Time moves so fast
A precious commodity
Not meant to last
Measured in hours
Minutes unfold
Time waits for no man
So I’ve been told
Facing my demons
Refusing to stagnate or rust
Releasing my fate to all that I trust
I observe my negativity
turn into dust
Kookaburras laugh and the Magpies flute
along to the strings of an imaginary lute
In wild abandon my Spirit I bare
the untamed wind blows my hair
My bright yellow dress matches the Sun
A New Phase has now begun
Footnote
There is a time for hellos and time for goodbyes and I feel this is my time now to do just that.
To all my poetic friends who have supported me on my poetic journey, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Keep writing your wonderful words, you have been an inspiration. I have made many good friendships here, ones that I will always value and appreciate.
Let me take this opportunity to wish all my fellow poets on PS
A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A BRIGHT AND WONDERFUL 2019
POTD 20 Dec 2018
“The Queen-Sized Bed”.
© London F. Buss
A queen-size bed was coming slowly,
down the rough dirt track.
As it drew closer,
The wheels clumsily mounted on the base of each leg,
rattled like a hospital gurney on the stones.
The bed was being pushed slowly,
ever so, carefully.
By a weary old man in tattered clothes and worn-out shoes.
as he drew closer, and closer,
I saw that he was pushing his dying wife who was,
lying in a dressing gown under the covers,
in the Queen-Sized Bed.
He pushed carefully trying not to shake the bed,
excessively.
His wife's head was supported by four pillows,
she had wispy strings of silver white hair.
She was dying.
Several I.V. Bottles dangled off a hook,
And dripped painkillers into her arm.
She was awake but barely conscious,
I wondered where they were going,
but in my heart, I knew...
privacy for an hour,
I came back as the sun was setting.
I found them together sitting on the bed,
Looking over the ocean.
The old man was holding his dying wife,
in his arms… stroking her silver hair under the sparkling,
southern cross.
They were sharing her last sunset as,
the dying embers of a fiery sun faded into the ocean.
Night fell and I walked home alone,
I had witnessed love real love,
something I had never experienced,
something I had never known.
If you’re near Cowell and you look hard enough,
You may just find the queen-size bed,
with a tattered mattress and exposed springs,
quietly rusting away outside a decrepit ruin of a barn.
Take a closer look at the legs and you will find four rusting,
gurney wheels.
and if you approach quietly on a moonlit night,
you will hear soft sobbing in the whistling wind,
as it dreams of that dying sunset,
under the southern cross...
and the milky way lights up the sky,
soaring into the heavens
as the angels sing.
I wrote this non fiction poem
For Debra Jean..
shade of vermilion encompassing sky at dawn,
pure fragrance of delightful jasmine in summer,
luminous dew drops quivering on lotus leaves,
an almost-forgotten melody from my childhood!
all these and many more…
bring the memory of my mother!
I remember her illuminating smile every day,
I remember her pray…
her eyes closed, her hands folded,
her lips uttering lovingly everyone’s name.
she struggled through a war-torn difficult time of the country,
worked hard for raising her own children…
and she supported many other children as if they were her own.
she didn’t sleep until the sick and the elderly were taken care of,
she didn’t eat until no one was starving around!
every dainty and softest petals of flowers,
carries memory of my graceful mother,
her body was fragile, her mind was strong,
she inspired devotion and dedication to minds around!
she is gone from this world…
but she has left her soul in the ethereal colour of the glowing dawn,
in the ambrosial scent of her exotic special flower,
chimes ring, soaring from the tranquil temple,
and reminds me of the peace and serenity
I witnessed in my mother.
A BLESSED CHRISTMAS FOR ALL WITH POETRY SOUP
Dear Caren, Andrea, Cay Cay, Carolyn and Jan
Rico, Arturo, Paul and Chris, all of you are the same
Excellent poets, together with, Gordon, Duke and Line
Each of you write poetry so fine,
Beata, Nette, Janice, Heidi and Dear Heart,
All of you have supported me from the start,
To Winged Warrior, Gershon Wolf and Owen,
For all of you Christmas cheers I throw in,
Sylvia, Darlene, Brandy, Connie and M.L. Kiser
Such awesome poets each of you a whizzer!
Hey Robert, James, Mike, Laura, Jim and David,
Thank you for all comments that I have saved,
And also Michelle, Sand, Maureen and Poetic Flame,
Your poetry rocks when you post a poem and
Gain more fame,
Yes Sunlite, Silent One and Maxie too,
Hope that your new poems will be almost due!
The two Kim’s I thank you a stack,
As well as the whole Poetry Soup pack.
There’s still more Wayne, Sydney, Dean and Frank,
Also Michael, Charles, Mark, Word and Harry,
Don’t forget to say Happy Christmas with a port or sherry
There’s, P.W Awtry, Bobby, Sandra and my dear Sunshine Smile,
Each one of your comments I keep in hard copy in my poetry file,
Not forgetting Agustin, Honestly J.T and of course Warren Doll
A blessed and wonderful cheerful Christmas I wish to you all,
And for my dear friend Besma although far and not near,
I wish you a heartfelt Happy New Year!
To poetry Soup admin, may your Christmas be bright,
Please don’t give us another Black Sunday Poetry fright!
I may have accidentally omitted a few names, my apologies, my Christmas
Wishes are for all and their families with Poetry Soup.
Loyalty and honesty mean everything to me
It is not always easy to find
Yet I have found it here on Poetry Soup
With a poet so supportive and kind
He has my back completely
Supported me when l was openly wronged
Never to be coerced by empty poetic words
His sincerity and loyalty unwaveringly strong
I just wanted to say a huge Thankyou …..l appreciate you so much!
This is written in acknowledgement to the lovely sweet men and wonderful Poets on Poetry Soup who have supported and encouraged me since I first joined. PSST! I’m certain they all have a sweet-tooth.
Demetrius Trifiatis, Silent One, Paul Callus, Victor Buhagiar, Chris Green, Peter Duggan and Darren White, Robert Lindley and George V - A big thank you to all you fine Poets.
I wade to you through peppermint streams
While thoughts of sugar plums dance in my head
And when on land I mark my way
With bright colored jelly beans of green and red
There are lollipop signs with delicious swirls
Atop red and white posts like candy canes
With delectable names like Chocolate Fudge Mews
Caramel Road and Honey Dew Lanes
Sweet Avenues and Streets - a mouth-watering choice
This yellow brick road looks so like Honey comb
Oh did you tell me to turn right or left?
Might take a bit longer to get to your home!
These bushes of delicious coconut cream kisses
And lolly golly bliss bombs ever so blue
Might tarry a bit while I sample these sweet treats
Don’t mind if I do - You won’t mind if I do?
Luscious flowers on that tree just like fairy floss
Oh my! Now this I cannot resist
Just another mouthful for along the way
Then lunch at 12 - you did insist
The ginger bread house that’s just up ahead
With a sweet fence surround like licorice twists
Its then that I see you waving to me
With a large box of chocolates - Oh what bliss!!
By The Glasser Sound Orchestra - Sugar Sugar
POTD 15th June 2017
Their candles burnt brightly long ago
Providing for us and watching us grow
But the years passed by and took their toll
And left behind gaps in our soul.
When we were young they were always there
And that they'd be there forever how wrong we were
Old age comes make no mistake
Accepting it is hard to take.
They looked like giants when we were small
Picked us up when we had a fall
When we were upset they wiped our tears
And supported us throughout the years.
Their task now done, we're left behind
And it makes you think that life's unkind
Here today and gone tomorrow
All that is left is pain and sorrow.
But we remember too, those in their prime
Whose candles went out before their time
One thing I know they wouldn't want you sad
Look back and remember the good times that you had.
Times a great healer people often say
But the void that they leave does' not fade away
Their memories live on in our hearts and mind
Comfort it will bring you, that I hope you will find.
Memories do surface from time to time
When you hear a song or even this rhyme
It's dedicated to those who have gone to their rest
And the years they were with us were surely the best.
( I composed this poem for a recent family reunion dedicating it to our parents and younger members of the family who have gone to their rest.)
Written 7th November 2017
For Your Best Poem Ever Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Chantelle Ann Cooke.
He grabbed me up from where I lay, peaceful in the sun,
with my brothers and my sisters round about me.
I felt four digits seeming to be one of a whole,
which clasped around my form.
A fifth one, slightly broader, pressed onto me from my other side.
And then with a jolt, I found myself next lifted high into air,
the dry hot bed beneath me but a whisper of my past.
Accustomed, at the most, to being trodden upon,
I barely had the time to assimilate this rare experience
(I seemed to remember a sweeter touch long ago from a smaller being who had picked me up, examined me and then placed me back on the ground).
Suddenly, I was moving, this time unsupported, through the air.
I spied in a single spinning moment
a world I’d not envisioned from the spot on earth
I'd shared with pebble siblings. In that place, we were surrounded
by greenery that blocked our view
and by giant old gray boulders, my ancestors perhaps.
Reposing heavily as if attached to land,
one such silent sentry supported him,
the creature who had flung me far from my home.
I found myself then bump, bump, bumping along,
making little rings across a shiny stretch of blue.
And when I lost momentum,
I disappeared beneath the final circle I’d created.
It felt much like the times I had been buried in cold whiteness,
but this instead was liquid cool!
I dropped down and down,
onto a different kind of ground, unusually soft and sticky,
the way earth used to feel for me after a sudden downpour.
Settled there, I noticed brown and silver shapes that flitted past above me,
much smaller than many of the creatures of the land above me, but swifter.
Also there were tall green blades that swayed in place.
They resembled those that stood on solid ground.
Best of all, I saw around me others of my kind;
a multitude of us, small, beautiful and round,
with whom to share my soft new cozy bed!
June 25, 2017
Submitted Aug. 8, 2021 for the Stone Poetry contest of Anthony Biaanco
I turned,
towards my friend, who always was complaining
about the injustices and hardships of life and in
a calm voice I asked him:
" Tell me, was there a moment in your life that you,
smiled?
Laughed?
Jumped for joy?
Celebrated a success?
Kissed your sweetheart and told her how much you loved her?
That you embraced your firstborn and exclaimed-
how beautiful life is?"
My surprised friend looked at me, took a deep breath, and then,
hesitantly, whispered:
" Yes, I have to admit that there were moments like that in my life."
" If there were moments like that, as you have just admitted," I continued
"You, certainly, justify, each and all of the things you so vehemently
condemn all life long!"
My friend looked at me rather confused, saying nothing.
Realizing that there was not to be any reply, I went on:
" You see, my good friend, we humans understand something
only if its opposite exists.
For instance, we understand cold for there is warm,
soft, because we have experienced hard,
heavy, because there is light and so on.
In the same way, we feel pleasure because we have felt pain,
Joy because we felt sadness,
Happiness because we felt unhappiness.
As you see,
the question is not, how just or unjust life is
but how much we accept life or not accept it.
If we do accept it- we have a chance to be happy
If we do not, then happiness will elude us.
Therefore,
all depends on the degree we accept life or not,
and
To that degree, we can be either happy or unhappy,
which means,
either we would be able to enjoy life
or we would keep
lamenting and complaining about it! "
© Demetrios Trifiatis
30 December 2019
* I would like to thank all my friends who visited and supported me throughout the years. I also thank the officials of PS for the honor of the POTD. I wish everyone a HAPPY NEW YEAR, and may all your dreams come true, but first and foremost, I wish you health! Love. Demetrios
Mr Fauci Mr Fauci
You are making me to so grouchy
TV appearances persistent
I’d prefer you social distant
Every day you make a statement
Think I’ll call for noise abatemen
Your flip flopping is so bad
That it makes me hopping mad
There in Wuhan, no compunction
You supported ‘gain of function’
When you say that you are science
Pass my surgical appliance!
Is this your wisdom, come with age?
Then will you kindly leave the stage
We will say: you did your best
Now give yourself and us a rest
We’ve shared the trail, kicked up some dust,
An’ stood a storm or two.
We’ve rode the plains, the wide frontier,
The easy trails were few.
You’ve listened like some wise old sage
To ever thing I’ve said,
An’ as a friend, supported me,
No matter where it led.
I wished I coulda carried you,
The times you were in pain;
Or rustled up some kinda shed
To turn the blowin’ rain.
I’ve come up shy with some your needs,
You gave me more’n you got,
But in your silence, seemed to know,
I needed you a lot.
Compadre, friend, amigo, pard;
I called you all them things,
But there’s been times, I swear to God,
You musta had some wings,
An’ He sent you to care for me
Like no one had before.
If you’as a man an’ not a horse,
I couldn’t a-loved you more.
We gave this ranch our sweat an’ blood,
It’s yours as much as mine,
An’ raised our young’uns through the years,
An’ Lord they’re doin’ fine.
They’re blazin’ trails an’ raisin’ dust,
They’re off an’ runnin’ free.
We’ve taught ‘em well an’ made ‘em strong;
Compadre, you an’ me.
I always knew the day would come
When we would fine’ly ride,
To join the Maker’s round-up time,
Up on the Great Divide.
I sorta hoped we’d share the trail
But this was not to be,
So, you go on, we’ll ride again;
Compadre, you an’ me.
The shell remains
picked clean by hungry vultures
ravenous with greed.
Gouged-out eyes
now bare hollow sockets
vacant in their stare.
Morsels of choice parts
deftly stripped or torn away—
and gutted vitals, furtively devoured,
have filled the wanton needs
of scavengers who shared the feast.
The carcass rests
flat on bony frame
supported once by plump, round legs
on which it mightily ran.
There it lies—
a brittle, empty shell—
the poor abandoned Chevy
on the Harlem River Drive.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Bring To Life
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 04/14/2018
~3rd Place~
Contest: East Jesus
Sponsor: Roy Jerden
Judged: 01/02/2015
Note: Inspired by my many trips years ago in the late 70s, to visit my father in a hospital there. I would see so many abandoned cars lined up as 'empty shell carcasses' along the Harlem River Drive in New York City.
Oh, in this technological age,
Mistakes can happen without our intention!
Press the wrong key, be forewarned
You might lose a poet-friend eternally.
Don't get furious and assume the worst,
If you are a Pisces, this is an even stronger danger.
The person you supported never turned on you.
Just made an technological error, maybe they are new?
Love the poet over technology,
Such is life on the Internet.
Hearts broken the internet way.
Blocking is a silent error we might make.
I have no one blocked, best to find a solution.
Turning off a TV, I quite understand.
Turning off a fellow poet?
Sorry, I feel quite murdered, buried under the sand.
I am not alone in this boat~
Just pleading for understanding.
Perhaps, t trusted you too much?
Communicating is love's landing and life's destination.
Panagiota Romios
3/14/2019
I am bored with Poetrysoup
Premier Poetry website rekindled my poetic talent
Veterans loved my work and inspired to showcase talent
But soon got entangled in Members Contest
Contests more of mutual admiration club than talent hunt
One Premium Member placing other high on winners list
Ordinary Members often accomodated below Glory list
Poetrysoup Members Contest rules needs revision
Premium Membership based on fees not on merits and contribution
Novice at times get chance to judge veteran
And post three poems in Poetrysoup Contest tilting fair play condition
Rules need revision, Premium Membership should be criteria driven
Either based on 25 Top Ten wins or upon posting of 150 poems
Top 50 of Poetrysoup Contest should conduct contests and groom
Though bored yet good platform of poetic expression is Poetrysoup
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Hitendra Mehta
April 2011
Placed 7th in Members Contest - I am bored with______ by Linda Marie
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
P.S - Its not intended to offend the Premium Members. Few of them have
really supported me and loved my visuals and flow. The idea is to make
this platform more stronger and meritorious to groom real talent.
Winning Top Ten and accumulating marks is okay but ultimate gratification
lies in showcasing the visuals with seamless flow of theme and packaging
same in adorable poetic forms.
Ventured this caustic one hoping that it will bring about positive changes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~