Best Taking Hold Poems
A black stone with diamonds inside
She shines but you would never know
They hit her but she never falls
They whip her but she never breaks
Speed in her step even though they try to slow her down
Make her fail, just so that they can beat her down
Again and again
But they never get the chance
They tell her she's property
Meant to be owned
Planting plants that their too lazy to grow
In their eyes she's just a cotton-picker
But she knows better than to believe their foolish words
Black as night
But bright as a star
Hard as a diamond
Hard to break
Locked in a concrete box
That's hard to take!
She writes with passion
In the shadows
Hidden from her captures
Writing the truth of her sufferings
Sometimes writing away the reality of her captivity
White clouds surrounding her
Caving in
Watching her every move
So clear but so dark and evil at the same time
She barely wants to move
But she doesn't have a choice
She writes with her heart
Not with her head
Writing is her release
Reading is her consumption
Breathing out then slowly inhaling each and every word
Falling deeper into someone else’s life and wishing it was her own
That’s why she started writing
To create a new reality for herself
Envisioning a world of peace
Released from the cage that she has been confined to
But the cruel world that she has been cursed with by God
Creeps its way up to her neck
Taking hold of any freedom that she had created for herself
In those so few minutes alone
Pulling her from her slumber
Stripping her of her innocents
Marking her with fire
Crippling her into ashes
Making her realize that there is no way out of this alive
She can only pray for that last day to come sooner
The morning sun taking her out of her trans, making her sufferings all the more relevant
Categories:
taking hold, color, discrimination, slavery,
Form:
Narrative
If you are reading "the Adventures of Soda Pop" for the first time, read the first in the series and the story will make more sense. I hope you enjoy.
Ricky ran up the stairs to go to his room to prepare for the days fun. He put on his favorite pair of jeans and a western shirt with pearl buttons. From under his bed he pulled out a leather gun belt that held two cap guns. (apparently the monsters vacate the space under the bed during the day) As he strapped the belt around his waist, I could tell he liked how it felt on his hips. Ricky took one of the guns out of the holster and placed it back under the bed. At first I wondered why and before I knew it Ricky placed me upsidedown in the holster. I liked how the leather held me firmly in place, luckily I had been corked or Ricky would have been wearing purple instead of blue jeans. Ricky then started rummaging through his closet looking for his Daisy BB gun. After a few moments of searching he was happily holding it in his little hands. He shook it and I could hear the BBs rolling around inside the gun.
As Ricky walked down the stairs I could feel his imagination taking hold. Ricky felt as tall and powerful as any real cowboy. There was a certain coolness in his stride, if he had had on some cowboy boots instead of his black canvas runners, the picture would have been perfect. Ricky went into the kitchen to find Roy and Teresa, Mrs. Burns told him they had already left with some friends. No worries after all today Ricky was the "Lone Ranger" and I was Tonto! The adventure could begin.
Categories:
taking hold, adventure, childhood, , western,
Form:
Personification
We once had a doggy named Dale
That loved taking hold of his tail
He’d chase it all-day
In circles, he’d play-
When able to snatch it he’d wail!
April 26, 2015
~3rd Place~
Contest: Your Best Single Limerick - 5 lines only
Sponsor: Robert Haigh
Judged: 04/24/2018
~3rd Place~
Contest: Limerick Contest
Sponsor: Jan Allison
Judged: 04/29/2015
Categories:
taking hold, dog, humor,
Form:
Limerick
SOUL TO SOUL
(Written for Mother Sandy Stone, whom I met in 1992.)
SOUL TO SOUL ***
The early morning call.
A sand dollar skitters in before its rushing wave.
A message bringing within a mosaic of tears,
long to explore.
The sand dollar rolling ahead
of a white-foaming wave.
Memory catapults her presence
again beside me.
The sand dolllar pauses on some wet sand
and slowly gives the sky a twirl.
Hers was an enfolding heart that Gave and Knew.
The sand dollar, yet to tip, receives
the brightness of the sun.
Hers was the company of light, soul to soul.
The sand dollar at last rests,
beyond any waves pulling it back.
The everywhere she went, already misses her.
The sand dollar, not thrilled by blank, blue sky,
Is joyous to see tiny fingers taking hold of its
circling side,
blocking the sun with such
a blessed giggling heart.
——————————————————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 2/5/22
Glory to God
Categories:
taking hold, friend, grief, hope, imagery,
Form:
Elegy
"Orgasmic Oceans Outlive"
Open skies, where early morning sun wakes...
Rippling small waves hook the shore,
Gladly playing with sun, pebbles and sand
Along this world orgasmic senses breathe
Sending each guest higher and higher
Making this wonderment like no other
Innate flight up, up and higher still
Canto in C, wild and passionate
Only sun and moon know where to be
Capturing silhouettes of reflective light
Engaging all to be part of this world
Arched in this fluorescence whales sing their love
Near each other, nuzzling in wintry water
Slowly engaging, with carnal coyness
Onwardly waltzing upon diamond rocks
Ultimately embracing all that is rapture
Taking hold of love light and glory
Living within this open dream existence
I wish never to awake or leave
Vessels in the distance swim between dolphins,
Each will carry us to dreamlike destinations
co written by
SkyWatcher and Darren White
05-07-17
note to Darren
Darren you have no idea what this entry means to me and the worth of working together with you and sharing words. And yes sharing words of the ocean. How grand is that. Very. It was an honor and privilege.
Thank you Darren. Excuse me. Thank you Penguin.
Categories:
taking hold, beauty, celebration, engagement, ocean,
Form:
Acrostic
The ashes of your ghost still roam within a sea of roses.
Breathing you in, I try to reach through the veils,
yet to no avail.
The bitter emptiness is all I can feel.
The Fates keep taunting, teasing~
in the dead of night, your voice still lingers,
preventing slumber from taking hold.
The ticking of clocks infects my broken psyche,
hallucinations tangle me within what used to be our sheets.
Breathing in your scent, exhaling demons~
without you, the devil whispers.
Temptation takes hold,
fire flows through transforming veins.
Lilith’s fury poisons any humanity that was left.
Levitating from the bed, rebirth is at hand.
Cutting into my chest,
the heart becomes the heartless.
Electricity pulses beneath rippling flesh,
destruction now at my fingertips.
Grief begets hate.
Now watch as the world burns,
as I become my own martyr.
Categories:
taking hold, dark, gothic, imagery, poetess,
Form:
Free verse
New ambient light taking hold of that which was once darkened by time.
New thoughts eluding desires and all answers to the questions at hand.
Laminated emotions taking the places of the empty spaces inside the mind.
Feel the love from behind the reinforced glass? Didn’t think it was possible.
Now the age of reasoning comes into play, now is the time for deep thought.
The devil calls for pain, in waves that crash on this body like water on rock.
No visible damage but over time it wears it down to nothing, little by little.
Plunging into the deep end surrounding the mind and clouding the vision.
Breathing is impossible, gasping for air only brings water into the lungs.
This feels like dying. This feels like numbing. This feels better than living.
Categories:
taking hold, confusion, love, passion, sad,
Form:
Free verse
Broken, this aged vessel
fractured by fate in matter and mind
careworn and cracked like creeping veins of window frost ...
(but colder in my solitude, I surmise)
Oh, but wholly blessed on the surface, really
no furrows or folds or wrinkly crows
hardly a dozen gray hairs, but for goatee' ...
(winter taking hold there, evidently
the once fiery and fervently experienced lips
put to the frigid air of the disinterested and forsaken)
Too proud, really, that I look twenty years my lesser
for it reaps naught but envy ...
(when I yearn for naught but love)
Yes, the porcelain facade still reflects the sun
but ONLY that, then back to whence it came
the warmth seeps not, and oh the splintered shell within
shards as sharp and crimped as British wit
whether by bent or happenstance or horrid folly ...
(they are as defined as they are hidden
as black as they are white
as cursed as they are blessed)
A hundred and more, they are a memory, each
a pain, a tragedy, a misstep, a ravaged heart given fully
returned with but a wish and a wave
but you see, those cracks and breaks and chips
all carefully mended ... with gold ...
(caring friends, exquisite joys, profound experience, loving family
hope, faith, renewed self-respect, and a million little things
that may pass others unnoticed
but to me, are the lifeblood of existence)
They fill the seams with the most wonderful precious metal
and that broken, shattered soul is healed
made whole by what is truly valuable and lasting
far more formidable and beautiful and priceless ...
(with the wisdom of breakage and healing
and all the myriad lessons learned in the process)
Than it ever was ...
(than I ever was)
Before.
Submitted on April 4, 2020
To the "Strand Choice Z, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest
Brian Strand, Sponsor.
( For those not familiar with the ancient Art of Kintsugi, please take a moment to check it out - it represents a model for life that is very special - strengthening through adversity. Here's a link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kintsugi )
Categories:
taking hold, analogy, appreciation, beauty, life,
Form:
Free verse
Why do the days all seem the same
When the morning sunlight comes
Why do I awaken with a dreadful fear
The same result will be it's outcome
Should I want my life to be different
If myself I do not try to really change
How can I make things better alone
Suffering the same heartache and pain
We search for many things we hope for
But always looking the wrong way
As we each day repeat all our follies
While it seems our sins now always stay
Take a moment this day to think about
The action that might help your life renew
By falling to your knees praying soulfully
That God above will have mercy on you
Alone we cannot perfect change in our lives
That will be long lasting for endless days
Unless self dies and we confess our sins
Praying to the Lord that we might be saved
If you long to awaken with a smile on your face
Let your heart and spirit begin the day with praise
By reaching out taking hold of His embrace of life
And He will make your dreams a reality today.
August 1976
Categories:
taking hold, change, confusion, depression, jesus,
Form:
Free verse
I love the sky as twilight falls
A breathtaking sight to behold
As hundreds of birds take to wing
Birds duck and dive, I hear their calls
From lilac skies now tinged with gold
Loud squawks, it's a shame they can't sing!
Beating wings, bird flight never stalls
As skies darken, night's taking hold
I don't want to miss anything
The changing sky always enthrals
I'll stay out until it gets cold
In summer, fall, winter or spring
The setting sun, seabirds in flight
I'll always marvel at this sight
Trilonnet Contest ~ Image 4
Checked with rhymezone and howmanysyllables
Sponsored by Joseph May
06/13/23
Categories:
taking hold, bird, sky,
Form:
Rhyme
I tried.
Truly I did in both laughter and the tears
but looking back at all the lost years
the images are vague and unclear;
so easy to forget the joy and happiness
when there is too much regret in the cloudiness.
Taking hold of every memory dispersed
not a thought remains rehearsed
every step taken was me in its making
and you the center of my world
gathered up in my life swirls.
Alone now in this terminal solitude
my heart only remembers you
with every breath I take
loving you was never a mistake
but losing you was my greatest heartache.
I tried
grateful for all the years we had
wistful memories make this heart glad
filled with the soul's endeavor to love expressed
I hold dear the beauty shared as one forever blessed..
Categories:
taking hold, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
My friend, The Wind, both you and I
Are strangers to this foreign sky,
And lonely trav’lers of this earth,
With nothing here to show our worth
We’re blown about from sea to shore,
From grassy hill to misty moor,
Both forced to feel against our will
The space our hearts can never fill
Surrounding every passing peak,
But never truly taking hold,
Our open mouths desire to speak,
But only whisper in the cold
Both begging to be heard by all,
No mortal heeds our silent call,
As we drift onward still unseen,
And hope to one day share our dream.
Categories:
taking hold, imagination, nature, sad
Form:
Rhyme
Can we call it destiny? Perhaps it is just fate finding each other.
How did we meet, this man and I?
A picture, a phone call, a conversation that brought us close to each other.
Sharing our thoughts, our experiences, laughing and enjoying each other
Even before we met love was taking hold. Our hearts began to blend,
Strong emotions of love began to grow.
Yet never seeing each other, yet knowing we somehow belong to one another.
How could this be?
We come from different places, he and I
Two people who once belonged to someone else
Two people who lost a marriage we dearly wanted to keep
Two people moving on, looking for change for new opportunities.
Been through years of pain, endured great hardships
Taking care of those whom we loved but could not love us back.
Making mistakes trying to make sense,
Finding each other, really hearing each other and realizing we both understand.
Meeting each other for the first time feeling nervous excitement.
We felt a connection the very first moment we met.
Sweet kisses we shared, speaking to each other words meaningful and real.
We knew then that this was a start of something good, he and I.
Months have flown by, hearts yearning to be together, obstacles in the way from
past situation, learning to wait them out. Frustration, wanting to give up, but
could not give up this love we felt, he and I.
No one would understand, no one could understand what and who we are to one
another.
Love is a funny thing, real love can wait, it can wait to see. Love does believe,
Love can endure, I know and have experienced it. It will not let me move on, not
yet, no never it seems. .
Our two hearts have come together, melting and fusing with each passing day.
Destiny? Fate? Providence? God?
All I know is there is this something that keeps us wanting and needing each
other. Loving each other. Missing each other, he and I.
Categories:
taking hold, love, people, love, people,
Form:
Bio
Whirling, twirling lovers fly
Falling through the tree tops high.
Taking hold with all their might
Swirling love, alive in flight.
Floating down upon the breeze
Spinning round like maple seeds.
Holding tight, not letting go
Nearly touching down below,
Pulling free, then giving chase
Longing for another taste.
Calling out their sweethearts tune
Hoping for another boon.
Pairing up, one more time,
Sipping nectar so divine!
Tanya Harrington
For: Good Enough Contest
Categories:
taking hold, animals, love, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
INTO THE WILD
I dreamed ......
An arboreal wandering into the wild
Creeping in narrow-leaved green herbage
Afraid to be mashed by other wolverines got riled
Their safe abode is now in the siege
The rampage and stampede make a harsh noise
Joining the rumble will stumble into near-death
Swiftly moving away, intend to do a ploy
Taking hold of strength and a grasp of pure breath
Chasing the weak and hear the piercing shriek of pains
The fauna now in a vain attempt to meet and regroup from the maze
A lurking prowler just outside ready to take his aim
A Carnivore’s rendezvous dealing another round of faze
Forays refrain them from regression
Marsupial bearing young is watchful and vigilant
For a hostile entry, a swift run from apprehension
Saving the younglings and safely back to Taiga so verdant
With balsam fir’s magical warming in winter and cooling summer
Tall trees get blown over osiers, shrubs, and miniature spruce
Hear the wind swayed the trees gently just like a hummer
A walk to wet spongy forest ground that has a soft carpet of moss
A truly look at life into the wild is precarious
Feeding on flesh and a quench from trickling stream
Some nocturnal species tending to be gregarious
To survive in this biome is a short-lived dream
Previously posted in voicesnet.com poetry site last 21 October 2009.
Categories:
taking hold, life, nature,
Form:
Rhyme