Best Take Place Poems
As Mayor Tom often says when he's off on one of his escapades...
"Greetings" this time from Milton Creek! It seems like decades
since we've shared the latest news about what's been goin' on.
The law is still being abided here. For that, we thank Judge Horne.
Sheriff Mark is still away on a secretive meeting about a commission.
Guess, it's not so secretive since I just mentioned it in my admission.
The town is safe in the capable hands of Daniel Rodgers for a while,
and deputies Terry, Duke and Mike are always lookin' out for the vile.
It's been mighty tranquil here in Milton Creek and surrounding towns
since the hombres and rustlers are gone, there are no worried frowns.
The law here never lets down its guard against the evil doers of crime,
so, we're enjoying the pleasant atmosphere; a long-awaited peacetime.
Telegraph agent, Jerry sent word that soon we'll be hosting a rodeo.
It promises to be an exciting event for everyone... a big western show.
There's a list of events, and I hope each category will fill with names...
Calf ropin' and barrel racin' will take place with lots of other games.
I've noticed Jan and Tania have both signed up for a few of the events,
Ranger David will ride broncs and bulls, so will several other residents.
Deb said she would, too, although it's a decision she might regret.
Constance will be checking out the animals since she's our new vet.
There's still two months before the first rodeo opens in the Creek.
I'm adding a new wing of rooms to Aces Hotel; a few will be a bit chic.
We're hopin' to draw in nice folk who might settle down from afar
and bring in revenue for the Manx when they belly up to the bar!
Anne-Lise will perform trick riding to begin the rodeo celebration.
It'll be a week-long event, so we're extending this as an invitation...
Come to Milton Creek for drinks and eats... steaks and whoopie pies!
and bring your competitive spirit if you're aimin' to win a rodeo prize.
Preacher Paul Nederlof will be here to pray that everyone stays safe.
Cowboys and cowgirls, strap on your chaps so your legs don't chafe.
Guns will be collected by deputies when newbies ride into Milton Creek
cuz we don't take kindly to black hat gangs. It's peace here that we seek.
I wrote a letter to God and I had to ask why,
He allowed so much suffering and little people had to die?
One’s that had never caused trouble or done anybody harm,
Taken before they experienced life, plucked from their mothers arms.
He said answer me this, why did my son have to suffer and die?
Nailed to that cross I couldn’t even watch, all I could do was turn my head and cry!
What trouble did He cause, what harm did He do?
And all for what, He did it for you.
He said you couldn’t comprehend all the things that daily take place,
And all I ask is your trust till we meet face to face.
He said all things have a reason and someday you will know,
But you must trust in my word so your faith will blossom and grow.
I said Lord please forgive me if I sounded out of line,
It seems like all we ever do is complain, ask for mercy, or whine.
I know that you are busy so I guess I will close,
Thank You for listening and my love I enclose.
What will you do when it’s your time to shine?
Do you have all your words written down in your mind?
Have you planned for the day when they call on your name?
To lift up a soul and help hide someone’s shame?
Is it easy for you to just stand up and speak?
Anytime, anywhere – any day of the week?
What about when you’re asked to give your point of view
On the many events that take place in the news?
If you’re asked to speak on the ‘good news’ of Christ
To those who yet walk in the world, full of vice.
Do you have rhyming words or a sweet song to sing?
As you share the news of our Resurrected King?
These questions I ask are to keep us in mind
Of the Great Commission given to all mankind!
That our King returns with Victory in His hand,
And all will bow down with their knees in the sand
Giving glory to God – Who truly loved us all
Even though disobedience caused us to fall.
Yet He gave all He had even Everlasting Life.
He forgave us our sins – He took away our strife.
His command said “go forth in the world, filled with love
And be as wise as serpents – but gentle as doves”.
So what will you do when it’s your time to shine?
When God opens up Heaven and says “This child is Mine?”
I like to be somewhere were I can't be traced
I world of magic or stuck in the replay of my outtakes
A thousand pictures saved and phrases enjoyed take place
I could be a mystical being or an animal having race
I could be a goddess, or remembering when I ate Daddy's plate
Pretending I'm kissing a movie star or the kisses of my love; can't replace
O yes, my funnest and greatest transportation, are the ones that my mind would make.
oh, let me tell you a twisted tale . . .
of robin hood and a merry band of followers
but my story does not take place in folklore but in reality
todays story is of an archer, a person skilled with swords and words
skilled in disguise, taking many false faces
and like robin hood of ancient tales, draped in green but this green is jealousy
like the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together
blanketed in secrecy, having no moral compass to guide the evil
oh the hate is a cancer on my poems and beautiful words
my poetry a garden ravaged by this outlaw with a sharp arrow
devious, crafty, sly, calculating, deceitful, fake, scheming, shifty
we know each false disguise you hide behind
every fraudulent name and game
oh, back to the story . .
lets raise the curtain to this ancient tale
this robin hood and a merry band of followers
pretend to be good and kind but shoot arrows
trying to murder my words
from dark hidden places, mingling joyfully
shifty and crooked, shady but quite artful in ways of destruction
a shining star shaped shield of silliness
the way is dangerous in this spider web of lies
bloods seeps from my broken heart like red tears
leaf-strewn gales utter low wails like violins on my murdered poems
robin hood and the merry band of followers
spit them out like stones
and when I read their words, the words squirm like snakes
robin hood of ancient lore stole from the rich to give to the poor
this robin hood steals our poetic muse
not quite the hero of old
but be assured your swords and sharp arrows are nothing to me
because my poems will sail like swans on quiet waters long after you
are burning down below for your deceitful ways
______________________________
January 21, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/twisted
Copyright Protected, ID 16-747-746-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Twisted Robin Hood
Sponsor, C.T.
Third Place
Every day a darker world we see.
Her skies are gray, and Her pain released.
Many warning signs are shared by her.
Earthquakes, Hurricanes, and floods
on Earth.
Her droughts are brought causing famine.
Are warnings for us to examine.
Her felt emotions and inner pain.
Are then brought forth through tears of rain.
How many more warnings must she
send?
The World to realize, we're at the end.
The Bible Speaks when will we know
the end is near? Mathew 24:6-8 ESV.
" See that you are not alarmed, for
this must take place, but the end is
not yet. For nation, will rise against
Nation, and Kingdom, and there will
be famines, and earthquakes in
various places. All these are but the
beginning of Birth Pains."
Michael Tor
Magical memories etched into time
looking at life through innocent eyes
laughter and giggles are reminders to us
to cherish the moments, sit back there's no rush
Incredible journey's are about to take place
soon they'll be off bringing tears to this face
First friendships are molded from what young ones see
God's little soldiers are about to be set free
Teach them good values, kindness and trust
love and humility of course, respect is a must
show them with actions let feelings shine through
and never forget to say I love you
The roses are blooming, there are geese in the lake
Invite them to nature and special memories make
Classic Poetry forms should not be transformed
by those who think themselves poetically charmed
Limericks are not trampolines to bounce around
Anyone who changes the form is not honor bound
If you want to allow syllables of another count
Give it some other name and use any old amount
But keep the form pure as did poet, Edward Lear
as it was sung in bars while drinking ale and beer
Variations in forms have been liberally adapted
the original remains from which they were extracted
It's been successfully done with Japanese Haiku
Now, branched into many... there are quite a few
No contest judge, whether an amateur or a pro
should alter Limerick line syllable count. That's a no
And then when questioned by not one but three,
The offender deleted all the comments... cowardly
There's no cloudburst of tears over a contest loss
when a know-it-all sponsor assumes he's the boss
Imagine Shakespeare writing one of his Sonnets
without rhymes as if he had a bee in his bonnet!
Being true to poetry forms is doing what's expected
Those who mess with tradition should be rejected
It's the contest that fails when the judge has no clue
and accepts anything entered, right out of the blue
No outrage or tantrums take place in that situation
The ones who bastardize should face condemnation
Original Poetic forms were never meant to be changed
Anyone who does, should be ignored and estranged
Meaning, ever bending, never ending-ly open to changing it's mind and opinions,
by moving around words and pulling and pushing in different directions,
until everything changes, rearranges pages in history
just for the mystery to begin again
with new songs, new players and these layers and layers
of summits and new beginnings.
Of openings back to where we came in.
New meanings are foaming and forming
within the fatted belly of doing and screwing until done.
Come watch a new one get sprung.
A new shape to take place of the old, behold
and believe in your prayers.
They keep coming these layers and layers
and faces of women and men.
Turn around just to begin again.
The first time ever I saw your face
It was at the wrong time and in the wrong place
There was no coffee bar but a castle for two
That’s the first time, that I ever saw you.
The look of surprise and of love shone my way
No discomfort no shyness made a wonderful day
The first time ever I saw your face
I never thought it would really take place.
The touch of your hand on my waiting fingers
The spark of love still sits there and it still lingers
The first time ever I saw your face
My eyes closed, I can feel where my fingers did trace.
To learn the lines and the smile that I love so much
To feel the warmth of your heart in every tender touch
The first time ever I saw your face
That now haunts me and fills every single space.
A face that looks my way, although from afar
A face I see next to mine, that shines as a star.
The first time ever I saw your face
Is embedded in my heart and will never be backspaced.
© 1/12/2012~GG~
She carries on a dream
a dream that will take place in a beautiful glimpse
That the rock will overflow with cream
Hearts will be opened by the colorful light beams
The dream and the doors opened tidal stream
Desire is divine ... looking, she feel like scream
One way she does not know ... a strange feeling
The dream, heart, and the mountain redeems
She found her savior, her God - believe in your dreams
A-L Andresen : 09.08.2014
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Sponsor:Gail Angel Doyle
Contest Name:Finding God
- Thank you for my 11th place in the contest :)
I was once asked if I wanted to live?
Did I have anything left to give?
Would I be able to justify this to my kin?
Could I be forgiven for my mortal sin?
Would my children understand?
Will the note I leave have clearly explained my plan?
How would I carry this act out?
Will there be any fallout?
Who would I want to find me?
Would it be a stranger or a member of family?
When would I want it to take place?
Could I hide my pain with my poker face?
Am I alone in this fight?
Will I see the bright white light?
Lying in my bed one night ,
I hear the quiet,
It does not feel at all right,
Something is about to take place,
In this disunited human race,
And then, the world that I knew,
Its comforts, my family, my dog,
My little pet frog,
My bicycle that took me
To school, No longer exist,
My arm is bleeding,
My heads’ spinning,
The noise, the blasts,
Impending
Bombs exploding,
Amongst all this chaos
I manage to find shelter near
What was my home,
An old photo of my parents
Floats up towards the sky,
Then down past me
Lands in front of
Something or someone strange
Who looks identical to me,
Am I dreaming,
This feels surreal.
A being extends their hand
To me without hesitation,
I am bewildered,
Petrified
Beyond imagination,
In sheer desperation, I accept,
Expecting the unimaginable,
The unfathomable,
A fog appears surrounding
Me as if it were a blanket,
I no longer feel like the target,
This being is gentle and kind
Our hands still entwined,
I am led up some stairs,
I turn around to see
The devastation,
The world behind me
Is an abomination,
Endless desecration,
I have nowhere to hide,
Don’t want to be left behind,
I enter a space where I
See familiar faces, my best friend,
My brother, my teacher,
My preacher,
The being tells me to not be afraid,
We are all on a crusade,
There are other familiar faces,
People I have met
During my lifetime on Earth
Selected¸
Destined,
To be reunited,
In a Universe
Of aeons far away
Where we would awake
Up one day,
On the banks of a watershed
Where we would tread
A new era, a greener place,
A new beginning
Where hopes would
Be brimming,
I felt humbled
I was to be a pioneer
An unknown spec of sand,
Among some
Of humanity who would
Begin a new world,
Part of a new universe
A parallel to the one destroyed
Whose population was no
Longer techno driven,
No hate or crime,
Just time,
Where you and I, would learn to
Survive all over again,
At a much slower pace,
Nothing anymore feels surreal
It is a new era dawning,
Along with a sense of belonging.
(INNER BEAUTY) :
Words donot define beauty.
People donot define beauty.
Looks donot define beauty.
You define beauty
In your depth
In your speech,
In your mind.
Beauty is not about having a pretty face.
It is about having a pretty mind,a pretty heart
And most importantly a
Beautiful soul.
Some people have bad taste
Because they see only a pretty whitish complexion face,
When they look at their fiancée.
They say that beauty is skin deep.
Actually Beauty is not in the face
Beauty is light in the pure heart and pure soul.
Blessed are they
Who see beauty in humble places
Where other people see nothing.
There is a inner beauty about a woman.
Who believes in herself.
She knows well, she is capable of doing any thing,
That she puts her mind to.
There is a beauty in the strength and determination
Of a woman who follows her own right path,
She is not thrown off by obstacles along the way.
There is a beauty about a woman.
Whose confidence comes from experiences,
She knows when she fall,pick herself up and again move on.
You are like the ocean,pretty enough.on the surface,
But Dive down into your depths ,you will find beauty
Where most people never see.
I am strong because I know my weakness
I am beautiful because I am aware of my flaws.
I am fearless because I learnt to recognise,illusion from Real.
I am wise because I learn from my Mistakes.
I am a lover because I have felt hate .
And I can laugh because I have known sadness.
Always remember that point
Beauty is on the inside and not outside,
If you are going to judge ,judge me by my pure heart and pure soul
And not by my skin colour.
My skin colour fades but my inner beauty of heart & soul stays.
God determines who walk into your life ,
Its up to you to decide who you let away ,who you let stay,
Who you refuse to let go.
Because Matches are decided on Heaven
And take place on Earth by Parents choices.
An inner happiness abode in all,
A sense of universal harmonies,
A measureless secure eternity of truth and beauty
And good things and joy made one .
By Aliza Mukhtiar (Aliza Kashmala Kiran)
Sometimes I learnt, mmhh……… actually,
Most of the times that…………
Words are lesser than actions
And actions don’t depict intentions
Half this life one spends wondering literally in the mind.
I on the other end,
Have a rendezvous with sleep.
Wonder I left to the well built intellectually,
Like Okumu!
I want to visit Jamaica while not high!
My wedding will take place in Venice,
The city of masqueraders in the name of aristocrats!
Of merchants and shylocks!
Clearly I don’t wonder!
I am ten feet deeper than the corpse
Somehow on my way down there,
I heard them whisper from afar
And now I am about to reach the earth’s core………..
I heard magma burn with fiery down there!
Could it be the same hell the vicar preached?
Truly I wonder not!
All the same, I happened!
I am the rule of the thumb-
If it wasn’t written, it didn’t happen.
Where you ask?
Right in the pupil of your eye
As you stare into my lips, reciting this piece to you
And to think I don’t wonder!