Best Surpassed Poems
Dawn slowly awakened to supplant the moon
Empty, the canopy where stars had been strewn
In repose, Luna slept after wandering velvet skies
and spider webs shimmered in the flight of sunrise
Dew drops evaporated upon the fragrant tuberose
as a playful breeze billowed my sheer nightclothes
Seagulls swooped and scurried along amber shores
A salty crew grappled with the sea on labored oars
Muscles pulled in rhythmic chorus, as if in lyrical rote
as surging waves rocked the hull of their fishing boat
They surpassed each crest and triumphed over swells
The sun's prisms painted the horizon in muted pastels
Inspired by the milieu of ruffled swirls across the sea
sunlight dappled over its surface in sequenced litany
I sipped a second cup as thoughts were being seeded
Poetry spawned inside of me; a birthing to be heeded
For as driftwood hastens down rapids to a new frontier
I needed to ledger my verses, ere they hie to disappear
August 13, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 12 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
So still and beautiful lays the rose in the heather,
Lifeless and dying, given to bring you happiness,
So fragile is this rose laying in heather,
Slowly withering and drying, crumbling to a powder,
I look at you and see this rose ever fading,
Once growing, living, accenting its surroundings,
But now gone, plucked from the bush by one mans lust,
I could never compare you to this rose laying in the heather,
For your beauty surpasses its own,
So still and beautiful lays this rose in the heather,
Now dried cracking and dead, stored in a book to bring memories,
So weak and faded is this rose in yellowing heather,
Slowly falling apart as you touch the fragile petals,
I look at you and remember the flower when it faded,
That germinated and grew where I had sown its seed,
Now gone, plucked from the ground by one mans hope,
I would never compare you to this old heather and roses,
For its life was surpassed by yours,
Now I tell you I love you with cellophaned roses in heather,
Draining lifeless this dying confession of my dreaming,
This rose is more fragile then the first had I gave you,
But I could’t approach, my courage eroding at your sight,
I look at you now and see the love I sought inward,
Once alive and growing but only within lost confines of myself,
But never quite gone I hold this consuming fire close inside,
I could never combine your world with mine,
You always looked passed never noticing me,
Now I open my book that holds the first rose, wishing I gave it for the sake of
chance,
Instead I hold a created memory that never came passing,
That never could I fear,
I hold tight to the lie that through wonted silence I painted,
But that chance for your love died with the first rose wrapped in heather.
When the sparrow meets the long nights
webbed in the gentleness
of every beat that marks your heart;
only then will we find a faraway world coming together
as graceful leaves mix
with the branches of our souls;
for the length of time is never kind though precious--
our testament to be one
connects us through serendipitous pulses :
We may not be together,
yet we feel the same rain ,
same tears, and language unbidden. ..
Is this what long distance love is
made of?
We bind the folds of seasons
and still know how we live
in any moment of an eon--
a love made in a place called heaven's fate,
staying in touch
through deep intuition and prayer -
that we forego season's ticks, sometimes...
A hundred years may pass,
yet we know, this love infinite will bind the hues
of devotion 's thread, stronger than
the fabric of time's test.
palette of seasons
changes from neutral to bold
surpassed by love's strokes
A spark cast by a careless deed,
it catches fire and sparks twigs weed.
A hushed town that is dull at last,
a Careless deed, by a spark cast.
East winds howl to display their might,
and spout flames to a sturdy height.
Blaze any grace in that house foul,
to display their might, east winds howl.
Oh, fiery Fire, the town explodes!
with no farewell, let's hit the road.
One sleeps on tack others on dire,
the town explodes! Oh, fiery fire.
None shall remain where the wind passed,
this life, I think, can't be surpassed.
The town wept and the nation pain,
where the wind passed, none shall remain.
Written: October 05, 2022
Swap Quatrain Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
https://www.rhymezone.com/ and
https://www.howmanysyllables.com: with 8 syllables in each line.
Often wondering is it a steak upon Our Plates that is important...
Perhaps a Hot-dog instead and more Money for a healing deportment.
To feed a Child that is suffering or very ill and extremely sick.
We ask often comfortably what often makes the wealthy tick?
As We read on The Internet that there are Children out there just wanting Bread.
The Children eating grass is in an Article that was just as this is read...
My Heart torn open,wrenched,concerned and burning with anguish inside.
My Own Home stemless, poor, and uncomfortably We reside...
Wishing We could just reach threw a T.V. Set to give a helping hand...
Just to pass Our Dinner to a child in a taunted hemmed Land.
My passion so large, words so strong, and My Pocket very small.
Never standing in the right position in Life to answer as Children call.
There are Children in Our World that are just eating grass.
Under seemly so by My feelings of disrepair as I pass My Own grasp...
This stench of Many Self willed that preform as Our stanza has not surpassed.
To reach for You now is more then an unbearable weep to comprehend.
A World filling up with Starvation and Our Children in it left to descend.
To reach for You now is an unbearable decision not yet made.
The Children Eating Grass just wore Me thin and They paid.
Sometime wishing I could just rob and empty an entire vault.
That Decision would cost Me greatly so I resort to prayer that will never fault.
To Be trusted with just This Message where I sit and grieve.
When Encounters of Love yet to occur and never to beckon Evil that is deceived.
By Charlene L.Wilcox 09-29-2014
They met at first around sixteen,while they were in their teens.
A young man tall and handsome, a girl with many dreams.
Years later they did meet again this time he was smitten.
It took some time to hook this girl, eventually their history written.
He had a plan to marry her and move her from her home.
She'd have to leave her roots, the only thing she'd known.
Leave her home and family was what she had to do,
The love they shared was eternal even though it 'twas brand new.
This love they shared was a gift,their faith was also strong
They both loved many similar things like fishing, books and song.
Seven children blessed their lives, they started their own tree
So strong this love they shared, became one large family.
Both worked hard to raise them, devoted to each one,
They shared their love equally to each daughter and each son.
Education and faith were important, practiced with daily prayer
They fed and clothed this family with love and tremendous care
Each child was very different and different paths they took.
Educators, artists, builders, Lawyers and even cooks.
Each child found their partners, some added children to each branch.
All love music, all loved to read, a few even like to dance.
Their children had more children and the two were greatly blessed,
With lovely grandchildren with many traits that both these two possessed
What remained from the love they shared twas passed down through the line
A love this strong must be shared and it surpassed all time
Four generations have now developed from these two whose love began
So many years before when both had shared a plan.
Each twig shares a piece and resembles one or the other
For this love story that's been described was about a Father and Mother
I'd love to say they share a life together here today
But God had different plans in mind, for one he took away
The void he left was devastating to everyone you see
Hardest on the one for which he shared atop the tree
The plan these two created at the time they were entwined
Continues on by one so strong , who giveth all of her time
To the tree these two created which grows branches to this day
The love created by these two shall never go
By the early years of that ancient decade, the 70's,
I'd tired of my obstreperous tomboyish games:
kickball with the neighbor kids, sledding in the winter,
desecrating the peacefulness of our street's grave yard
with our bike races, tag, and hide-n-seek.
And I tired too of the pastimes of my season preferred:
chasing siblings with a hose, giggling and gleeful,
swimming at Weed Park,
and my perpetual swinging through those long, sweet sunshiny days
longed for during classes in my school.
Old friends grew up.
Boredom anon crept upon the remnant of my childhood.
At times - through infancy and beyond -
I'd been beset by a feeling of loss
over something not yet sought.
It was something kin to loneliness, but no. . .not that.
More a sense of gloom - a sorrowing for what?
I still don't really know.
Despite the days of inexplicable forlornness,
I grew more and more cavalier
throughout the days that came
between those odd forlorn days
because my old timidity, in fact, had waned. . .
Another face, fairer, appeared.
It waxed and glowed - assured -
until those “days - in- between”
had finally surpassed the melancholy ones.
I learned to stifle monotony and squelch the blues.
I became a "doer" of too many things to name
as I went gliding through with the Gibbous moon.
Soon enough, a fullness had arrived.
And now it must disseminate.
In the years to come, I'll be wondering this. . .
Will the shining face I show the world wane too,
and will my youth's strange darkness re-emerge,
eclipsing what light remains as I drift,
having come full-cycle,
into my final
crescent phase?
5/21/14
Submitted 3/30/16 to PD's Any Poem # 38 Poetry Contest
On a field of green grass
Yellow buttercups spread mast
Row on row of the spread mass
Coating the field un surpassed
With yellow buttercups outspread
On grassy fields spread
My life surpassed, fades long, yet fast
(Below the dirt, my coffin's cast)
Despite how deep, however vast
I'll dwell inside that vacant mass
It's only He that understands,
The One that gave me Poet's hands
So tell me please, if you can-
How from dust arose a Man?
At the end of every rainbow there lies a pot of Gold
Or so hail all the Stories that I have been told
But what do my Wondering Eyes behold?
A Greater Treasure today here unfolds
A Greater Treasure for some indeed
For at the end of this rainbow lies a Steed!
A Fair Creature that can truly make one’s Heart Sing
A creature treasured by both Pauper and King
Their Strength surpassed only by their Humility
While Chiseled Beauty defines their Nobility
So if Treasures of the Heart are what you seek
Next time you see The Bow just take another peek
One might just find the Truest of Friends
Waiting there at The Rainbow’s End!
America, trillions in debt
gives to many nations!
Alas, what for, we are seen
as a selfish nation?
Homeless populate the streets
of LA.(thanks to governor Newsom)!
Yet don't you get it, we have
no extra money to pay.
No hidden vaccines do we store.
But all nations yelling...
More, more, more.
We are not a vaccine store!
I have no idea why we ever
helped our allies?
They do, to this day, forever
despise us
I would not come on an international
site.
Insulting any nation, as though what
they had, was my right.
We are on the road to becoming
Venezuela, two.
People waltz in here, like
we owe them a living, too.
Besieged with Covid at our
borders.
Thousands for a free monthly
check plus medications, such
hoarders.
There are people legally, wanting
to move here.
Overrun by gangs, the Cartels,
who have no fear.
I grew up in Chicago, quite
international.
Relatives, legally arrived when
LAW was still fashionable.
But we are expected to take all in,
as if we are a bottomless money pit.
Don't you understand, we've
surpassed our money limits?
Stop lying and saying we are
hoarding vaccines.
You are listening to the Cancel Culture
station, in itself, worse than the disease!
3/16/2021
~3~
My Emancipation
The convoluted misconceptions concocted in your chaotic mind
Will no longer deaden, dim, nor darken the light that I shine
Constantly minimizing and compromising, the extent of my plight
I’m stepping out of your dark shadow; I’m stepping into the light
Hiding behind these disguises, I’ve forgotten my reflection
Brushing phony smiles, over the hidden frowns,
Just to camouflage the rejection
Your bad intent is surpassed only by your insecurities and ignorance
I will no longer recite from your ridiculous script
I’ve been concealed behind this mask that you painted for far too long
Continually reading your words, and singing your songs
I’ve followed your painful paths and I have walked far enough
You’ve shown me your hand, and now I’m calling your bluff.
Unleash, unchain, and unshackle me
I am reclaiming my life, I demand to be free.
There was an old chap from Toledo
Who took meds for his bad libido
One pill made him fast!
Two pills helped him last!
With three, he surpassed a torpedo !!
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My joy
in May’s sweet blooms
is only surpassed by
those warm nights’ blossoming of stars
in June
6/4/2-17
For Line Gauthier's Bitesize Poem No56 Poetry Contest
As autumn begins her slow journey
leaving brilliant colors in her wake,
I think of you.
It was a crisp day in autumn that I was
first drawn to your smile, do you remember?
Your long
dark lashes lowered in a shy tender way.
My gaze was fixed on you as I breathed in your
sweet scent.
A wisp of your raven hair fell across your brow.
I wanted to reach out and brush it back for you.
Suddenly I
felt a rush, a blush bloomed on my face,
and just that fast, I fell in love.
A week
went by until I saw you again. I could barely
contain my excitement. We made plans to
have coffee.
After our rendezvous we walked in the park
with autumn displaying her brightest hues,
our enjoyment
of the colors only surpassed by our first kiss.
It wasn’t meant to be that we would stay together.
And now,
looking back at all those years ago, I remember and
*everything carries me to you.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Note* The last line of my poem is borrowed from Pablo Neruda’s
Poem “If You Forget Me”