Best Surmising Poems
Did you think my friendship fickle,
thus deserving of the sickle
did you think that it would wither up and die?
Did you think my friendship faded
thus transforming true to jaded
did you think you could revive if you try?
Did you think my friendship lacking,
thus you sent me swiftly packing
did you think that you should stop and ask me why?
Did you think my friendship ended
thus presumed it can't be mended
did you think that you could leave without goodbye?
Well, my dear, let me assure you
That as friend, this girl is true blue
did you think I'd let you simply walk away?
Quiet wrong is your surmising,
and I find it quite surprising
that you'd think this friendship's was not here to stay
So, now listen, friend, just listen
Let these word's of friendship glisten
as on through these lines of poetry you play
I'll be here though sometimes silent
With a heart that's supple, pliant
Write the words, and don't be doubtful, dear, I pray!
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
surmising, appreciation, forgiveness, friendship, friendship
Form:
Rhyme
Sometimes, we expect
the sun to rise and smile,
through hazy hellish clouds
carrying vindictive
verdicts of venomous vultures,
surmising hues of
ink to pierce through
pores of this bleeding pen,
imagining rainbows
will unravel colors,
in violent violets and
intricate indigo streaks,
refusing to walk around
streets with
hailing stones of storms.
But what if the skies
unfold mysteries of yesterday,
would tales of truth need
translated transcripts?
oblivious to the weight
of every thorn I sustain
within these words I weave.
Whilst daggers
on my spine
still remain rusted with
runes of revelations,
as I’ve felt claws sharper
than twisted tongues,
so those feculent fingers
pointing at abstracts
across fields of
fruitful flowers,
adorned with
smokey quartz
jewels of life,
is nothing but
mere artless blades,
that burn bridges
from blunt blindness.
Let the bare brokenness
of your rags be
the conqueror of your
own demise,
I’ve seen too many
ghosts turn into
steel hearted devils with
tasteless plans.
Yet these cracks
won’t grow wider
from misconstrued
conclusions,
from barely noticeable
turbulence within a
psychological warfare.
I am more than your
definition of sharpened
needles and knives,
as I’ve been nurtured
in fearless forests with
herds of faceless wolves,
this warrior spirit
is unmovable,
by a million mountains
engraved with
lifeless blood and
bones of your kind,
so take your little
quilt of cowardly questions,
wrap them around your
fragile little ego,
perhaps, sleep too
can reveal
rosier dreams
in your doomed
nights filled with terrors,
for I refuse to
drink from chalices
of emptiness
concocted from
bitter ingredients.
Categories:
surmising, emotions,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
The gift that I give you
Is living within you
The warmth of a bright summer day
The comfort of living
Is born of the giving
That comes in a wonderful way
When two hearts are rising
Their love is surprising
For hate is surmising their fall
But hope is much stronger
And joy is much longer
When living is loving at all
The way that I love you
Is stirring above you
The gift of an angel in flight
My wings are the reason
My joy is in season
For giving you shelter tonight.
Written 06/25/2021
For "The Gift that I Give You" poetry contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
Categories:
surmising, giving, love,
Form:
Rhyme
I love you without surmising 'why',
your passion sets pon dusky distances
betwixt & 'midst quartz glass spaces,
where scented phases astir moon glow
and impassioned fireside involvement
madly erupt above obscure air castles,
beyond a swept away briny rendezvous
of crystallized darkly essential marrow,
like wildflowers penchant for Spring
blooming 'tween summoned fiery March
snowdrifts' lashing bout ignitable flurries
amongst wind's orgasmic undressing,
farthermost indulgent sundown piques
regaling its worth with naught but those
magnificent moments in timely conception,
whence endearment yearns to be evermore
Inspired by Pablo Neruda - - Sonnet Xvii
Categories:
surmising, dark, destiny, love, passion,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Where Do Poets Go
I cannot write a tribute for a friend
who left our Soup in recent history,
because I have not been here long enough
to fully know the few who left last year.
So here are thoughts that I can offer now
in just surmising what the problems are
and hope this present group of gifted souls
will always share their talents as before.
Where do our poets go when all at once
we find their name and pages gone away?
Their heartfelt writings, words of wisdom fly,
afloat in air somewhere in cyberspace.
Were they offended by replies or blogs?
Were they upset with contest sponsor's choice?
Perhaps their muse took off and left them dry
to struggle on their own with no results.
It could be too, their time restraint to write
could not do justice to creative thoughts,
and it was easier to close the door
to words of imagery, they might display.
Perhaps they soon became dispassionate
to write and post, get comments and reply.
Though fun, these do demand much valued time
that takes away from other daily joys.
We cannot wonder why or what would make
those separate themselves from PS site.
For them, a sound decision made them act;
a choice each one of us could make some day.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Where Do Poets Go
Sponsor: Jerry T. Curtis
Judged: 03/01/2016
Blank Verse: Unrhymed, 10 syllables, 5 feet per line
Categories:
surmising, missing, poets,
Form:
Blank verse
~
The bliss of French-roast steam, arising,
gives me a moment to compose...
The thought of just one sip invites me
to close my eyes, and then transpose
It warms my thoughts, while I’m surmising...
It wakes my senses, then down it goes…
to thaw my brain, and warm my toes
----------------------------------------------------------------
"Wake Up With Coffee or Tea " contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Categories:
surmising, food, life,
Form:
Quintain (English)
"How to Touch the Lips of an Eclipse"
calamity, the heart rushes in
up against a wall of thorns
and the one removed watches it all
Love comes in little steps small,
or the opposite, thick fast floods
that break the walls
drowning,
you drown,
in the best drowning of all
time stands back
adjusts its hands
dials in time with the Sun
pulls you in closer
like you're the tide
and the other, your shore
yet Love stands back,
barefeet, feeling
the sands of time
moving underneath
surmising the deep
afraid of it all
and Love, stands back
watches and waits
for the Moon to rise
how to touch
the lips
of an eclipse
waiting for some
rouge command,
the curves of a kiss
rippling like waves
across a waist
caressing the time it takes
dragging the delicious
birdsong quilled against
a body like Love
the words unheard
invisible
written on a page
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Categories:
surmising, muse,
Form:
Narrative
puzzles puzzles
they write in rhyme
encrypted messages
poisoned in hate
guesses in the dark
surmising
unable to say the truth
denying
hiding
play nice
yet still
there is the knife
Friendship taken for more
what awful gore
innuendos galore
the truth is out
read the encryptions
read the lines
following suit
following suit
this message
will self destruct
IN YOUR MIND
Eileen M
Categories:
surmising, bullying,
Form:
Free verse
Poor ol’ Pyrrho, he’s the hero
Of my somber poetry:
Couldn’t figure how to pick your
Core beliefs with certainty.
Bold Descartes, he got the party
Started with his Cogito.
Up popped Pyrrho (what a zero!),
Said to think is not to know.
Next, John Locke, he tried his luck; he
Claimed true knowledge must appear
By consensus of the senses,
But just how, he wasn’t clear.
David Hume, an ornery human,
Stripped Sir Science of support.
Just one reason he could seize on:
Custom is our sheer resort.
Kant, the strange one, said, now hang on;
For what’s really real don’t fuss:
Be content to just consent to
What our minds make real to us.
Lastly, Hegel scored a bagel
With his dialectic ways:
Synthesizing’s just surmising
When you have no solid base.
Oh, bewail their learned failure
To make absolutely sure
Of the theories man can fear he’s
Welcomed with a false allure!
As for poor ol’ Pyrrho’s moral,
Which I think we should applaud:
Don’t be blurtin’ that you’re certain—
You are just a man, not God.
Categories:
surmising, funny, humor, humorous, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
Minimal involvement with extracurricular activity at Methacton
limited to playing Baritone Horny within the band
though marginal interest existed to maintain constancy
feigning noteworthy interest second to none
eventually Mister O'Donnell
(I remember without mental exertion - surmising that tubby name
of bandleader) synonymous with attitude ill suited,
thus loss being banned haint grand
loss, and subsequent loss did not stun,
nor disheartenment arose to forego hearing
future applauding hand, or standing ovation
and felt reprieve, relieve, when refused further sharing of any awards won
yet the greatest joy arose to even the score for decision
foisted upon me to play Baritone Horn now a choice I manned
in tandem with with late afternoon rehearsals
necessitating this boy not much bigger than the baritone horn
to make a mad dash with truckload of academic material
plus encased “mini tuba,” which constantly banged upper right thigh,
and nearly tripped me to go flailing head over heals.
Exhaustion (a welcome relief with sprinting the distance –
possibly even setting a world record) getting linkedin
(half heartedly envisioning myself whizzing
across the mountains viz tour de France
measuring a winning distance – quite an expanse
whereby giving the strong armed cyclist brandishing his lance
a run...er rather pedal for his money,
yet this flight of fancy fragile as a séance
vanished without a trace, although this trance
figurative shifted gears burnishing via sans deus sol invictus
and didst witness glory, where ignominy, humility, and disharmony
Mister McDonald (supposed namesake) from looming maestro,
whose countenance evinced
countless cartoonish, distorted expressive facial grotesqueries
earning apropos sobriquets
who jabbed the air with each illusory add vance.
Categories:
surmising, age, angst, anxiety, character,
Form:
Free verse
I'm dreaming of the sandy beaches
Just like the ones I’ve seen before,
Where the surf is rising,
With lovers surmising,
While kayakers skim along the shore.
I’m dreaming of the sandy beaches
With every poem today I write
Hoping you have good weather up here
If I think of you,
I’ll shout a quick “Good night!”
[Repeat]
I'm dreaming of those sandy beaches
With every poem today I write
Of my presence here please do not lose sight
And may your holidays be bright!
Written December 10, 2022
[with a special nod to Irving Berlin,
a parody of his "White Christmas"]
Categories:
surmising, beach, christmas, parody,
Form:
Lyric
ginger surmising
the mood while rising
a sip for me, Bach and tea
a bench for a throne
liberates my own
connection with ivory
restless eyes draw closed
moments to compose
gingerly to far off place-
fragrant steam escapes
wrapping rapture's shape
in timeless, lyrical lace
~
Categories:
surmising, happiness, introspection, uplifting,
Form:
Rhyme
A thin veneer of stormy war-clouds arising
To threaten the ever-roiling sovereigns,
Keeping the world in constant surmising
Hence no peace among the sister nations.
To threaten the ever-roiling sovereigns
Each greedily coveting the goods of another
Hence no peace among the sister nations
No family ties of ancestry, sister or brother.
Each greedily coveting the goods of another
Amassing armies for their supposed defenses
No family ties of ancestry, sister or brother,
Nations aggressively building needless fences.
Amassing armies for their supposed defenses
A fragile world divided into opposing castes,
Nations aggressively building needless fences
Makes a thinker wonder how long it can last.
A fragile world divided into opposing castes
Keeping the world in constant surmising,
Makes a thinker wonder how long it can last
A thin veneer of stormy war-clouds arising.
Written May 10, 2022
Categories:
surmising, peace, perspective, war, world,
Form:
Pantoum
From Fifteen to Fifteen,
All the love and memories and framed moments in between,
befitting we fell on artificial lovers holiday, you with brow the jaw
the hair, me with the lust the love the desire,
a willing participant
I purview no writing on the wall
the depths of pain to come that future is so far— I cannot see it,
the willingness to be vulnerable in your love,,, surmising I won’t be
around long enough for its piteous end…Ah but I am the tortuous the
pit,
the glare of eternity is now before me
The end-- the end of us all
this rock, this ball spinning with mad energy in the universe, and the
tiny dramas played out laughable ha ha ha! Laughable….
In the agony the depths of despair you know you’re alive… the spirit
awakens it wishes to flee the tomb of flesh,
all the symbolism in numbers 13 unlucky, eight you are, 15 your gone…
a cold and rainy November condensation-- fogging along with my breath
The interior of my car—obscures my teary vision of you driving away….
its the 15th of November, it is raining—so am I
I’m still here…
Categories:
surmising, break up, lost love,
Form:
Verse
Circling above the shore, watching the gulls
Squawking loudly above the ocean’s roar,
Hungry for every morsel, never any lulls
Watching the gulls circling above the shore.
Freighters on the horizon slowly moving
On the ocean’s surface laden with provision,
The supply chain, I see, is finally improving
Slowly moving freighters on the horizon.
The urban skyline rising starkly to my right,
A scene leaving so much to my surmising,
Of city folks waking up in the morning light
Starkly to my right, the urban skyline rising.
On my early morning walk along the shore
In habitual silence, I stand there and gawk
Wondering what this new day has in store
Along the shore on my early morning walk.
Written September 5, 2022
Categories:
surmising, boat, city, ocean, places,
Form:
Quatrain