Best Talk Poems


Premium Member When I Talk To You

When I talk to you, I'm talking to the wall -
to photos arranged across from where you hung the paintings
made by your own two hands. 
Set behind the dusty glass of antiquated frames,
the photos tell of family, heritage, and you
in your youthful glory. . . of you with dark lush locks
that framed the face of a rose in bloom

When I talk to you, I'm talking to the birds -  
two sweet parakeets now more than a decade old.
The cage is not as clean as it was when you were in your prime
and all was immaculate!
Now someone else is caring for these birds
which tilt their little heads and inquisitively peer at me 
as if to ask: Are we supposed to understand?
Silence meets my ears.

When I talk to you, I'm talking to the air.
Today it smells of antiseptics, and your room is stifling.
I push you in your wheelchair to your garden, 
where breath of spring awaits us.

I talk to you, but we do not converse.
I look into your eyes grown pale.
Their empty stare seems fixed upon the roses.             
I gently pluck one up
and place it in your thinning snow white hair

Premium Member Dirty Talk

come on crude
    
                         we're all future fossil fuel

                                     pump me






***

Premium Member A Talk With Him

Outside, a table awaits idle: I join as though it was my companion
Pondering about life as if it were water appeasable to the deepest canyon
Trees and scattered leaves waving alongside the lake facing the north; sighing
Opportunity after opportunity, oh how Ungrateful I am as I whisper to him crying

" A work in progress I am Lord, assist as I sprinkle the ground below with my tears
  Lead me and guide me for I shall follow you through out my years
  Let your word be used as a sword to fight against my enemy peers
  Unseal your lips Father for your words of wisdom are therapeutic to my ears"

A canvas set aside of unfading colors; a mirror painting of the Lord above
My knees gently caress the pavement thanking him for his everlasting love
Caterpillars gather around to celebrate and form to butterflies within my chest
Thanking the Lord once again, for I know with Faith he will conquer the rest


Talk To Me

Talk to me
otherwise I'll disturb you,
I'll follow you everywhere 
and sneak into your mind
silently.

From the busy street
to your lonely room,
in the hectic hour 
and in lazy noon,
I'll come to you,
upsetting your schedule
frequently.

In sleepless nights
when you nurture, caress
a newborn poem,
I'll come in
forcing you to stop 
and think of me.

Please talk to me!



================
© Kash Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Nature Talk

NATURE TALK

Drawing to a close
She was not what she seemed
Not the herald    the harbinger

In these final days
She yet retains
All warmth    all beauty
With a slight shivering smile

Her rustling crowds
Yet speak of warm rain    soft breezes
And sparkle in the sun
Alike dusted diamonds

I’ll not sing a sad song of September
She will not harken     or cry
She is summer’s wandering child
With yet more fields to nourish and explore

Here I’ll stay in meditation
With these minutes all bathed in yesterday
Then when quite refreshed
Continue on my way
Dave Austin

Premium Member I couldn't talk about it so, I wrote a poem

When metaphors play 'hide and seek,'
my shield is a veil nurturing premature petals.
Yet there are some words that become poems,
to help those who care to read 
to interpret the alchemist mystery, 
personifying personal alliterative angst.

The heart ponders... 
What will abandon me first,
my trusted muse? Who reveals my truth
or my wallflower soul, which prevents
butterfly breaths - breathing their last sigh?

What am I,
but a pomegranate pebble,
oppressed by stones -
in a man's world, feeling like a boy.

Once, I planted two seeds with ultimate care,
but they no longer bloom for my atonement.
Yet, I still care for them from a distance,
soaking their roots with drops of blood.

Once, I found love,
so I formed into a bridge,
protecting her from raging torrents,
but I could not live up to expectations,
as turbulent waves crashed against my chest.

Now I'm crumbling.

Sometimes, I'm left alone upon an unknown path,
with only cloudy horizons above - but I keep wandering.
Hoping to be found.

Slowly, I lose a part of me,
but I'm inexperienced in 
trying to be who you want me to be.
I'm tired from being devalued.
Maybe, I'm worthless,
simply useless, some what careless,
so throw your spears - 
I no longer feel.

I won't tell.
I'll remain silent,
but my poetry will forever echo.

Simple Musing
An example for my current contest.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.


Love the Soul

Come sit lets talk awhile
Show where your mind is at
Nothing else, not my style
Wish for us two to just chat

Love for unrefined conversation
No smoothness in your voice
Real talk not an explanation
Unprepared talk is my choice

Impressed by whats inside of you
Carefree without all the walls
Unguarded someone who's true
Someone whom my soul can call

Nakedness of vulnerability unsure
Pure untouched soul deep inside
That's what holds all the allure
Love the soul which you hide



3rd place
Sponsor Brian Strand
1  poem on any theme 
Any form is acceptable.

No name or identifying mark on your entry

Premium Member Hello, January, We Need To Talk

I've been waiting up late for you,
watching the clock like a featured film.
Suspense waits no longer.
Here you arrive at 12 am
with a firework's bang.
At this hour,
this is your greeting?
Hello, January,
we need to talk....
I haven't seen you in months,
and you come barging in.
You come on so strong,
but sometimes you can be so cold.
You let me down last time you were here,
like torrents of hail and snowy hills.
Ah, snow can be fun, though,
and you did warm me up
with hot cocoa and a blanket.
Thanks for your reviving comforts.
What I'm trying to say is
that I've missed you,
and I forgive you.
I hope you can forgive
my past as well.
I'm sorry about my negative attitude
and my disorganization.
We should go on walks more
and eat healthy meals together.
I promise I'll be kinder,
and I'll try to appreciate
all the good you offer me.
Can we now start anew?

Pillow Talk

Dreams
Waft
Downward
Billowing
As the bed sheets drape.
Fold in the sides - tuck the corners
For only then will my wrinkled thoughts be neatly made.
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.

Mum's Advice Ignored - "don'T Talk To Strangers!"

When I was young, an urban lass, and not gregarious,
I’d never dream of speaking to a stranger on a bus.

I’d sit, demure, my eyes downcast, and hope quite desperately
That none of those weird passengers would try accosting me.

But, now I’m “fair and forty” (ish!) I’m bolder, and what’s more,
I’ve lived so long in Somerset I’d clean forgot mum’s law …

Until I went to London town to see my student daughter;
She lectured me for doing what I really didn’t oughta!

“You shouldn’t, mum! It isn’t safe!” she cried, in some alarm.
“Some folk round here are really strange. you might have come to harm!”

I’m sorry I upset her, but  I carried on regardless.
I found most folks in London are quite friendly … even harmless.

Oh! I do love London Transport, and its camaraderie!
I had such fun, and lots of laughs and all completely free (!)

But now I’m home, I realise …
That weirdo, then,
Was me!!

Premium Member Tick Talk

When the days stretch into evenings
When the evenings slip into nights
When the minutes pull together
Silken threads greet the sunlight

When the days span into months
When the months spin into years
With the silken moments carted
Iridescent strands will then appear. 
 
When the threads run through the loom
When the tapestry unfolds
What might have been weak and faded
Becomes more beautiful and bold.

We are the weavers and the spinners
So each tapestry is our own
We ourselves must choose the colours 
Before the edges can be sewn.

Someone To Talk To

She walks past the coffee shop window
White hair,
Face wreathed in wrinkles-
Seeming somehow lost to the world,
Pursuing another aimless day
Consumed with nothing.

Her eyes light up!
Someone approaches.
A friend,relative,
Greetings of recognition
And smiles all round.
Now animated chatter from the pair
Along with constant change of expression,
Alert,intent.
Listening one to the other.

Then the meeting ends.
Life continues,
Each go seperate ways.
She walks on 
White hair
Face wreathed in wrinkles,
Only now shining with LIFE.
Warmed by the brief touch of human contact-
 Of having had someone to talk to.

Premium Member A Heart-To-Heart Talk

"Why do you love me, Dear?" she cooed.
    "You're cuddly, cute, and sweet," he said.
    "Your mama's cat is too," she cried
    and made some distance in the bed.

    "Just teasing, Hon! I wasn't through,"
    he reasoned with his peeved young wife.
    "I'd be a wretched, lonely man
    without you to complete my life."

    "Now, why do you love me?" he asked.
    Her answer: "You're so good and kind
    and very easy on the eyes.
    A man like you is quite a find."

    He smiled. "Such precious words, my love,        
    but you've described our pastor too
    and other men we both could name.
    Why was it I you chose to woo?"

    "Your point is gently made," she said.
    "My HEART chose you, and yours chose me."
    Mere words will never be enough
    to tell what eyes of love can see. 



Date: January 29, 2018
Contest Title: Eloquent Banter: You Tease me So Nicely       Placed 1st      
Sponsor: Edward McCall

January 7, 2019, entered in Mark Toney's 2019 Poetry Marathon,
mile 10     placed 7th of 10

September 10, 2020
entered in the Strand Completely Your Choice (7) Poetry Contest

Toilet Talk

What does one do when in the public loo, 
Apart from the obvious one’s or two’s, well it’s true!
Walls decorated with an array of graffiti and words
Scribble, or jokes, tasteless, amusing or absurd  
The mischief one gets up to, in a moment of quiet
Who would of thought to have a marker on hand
Ready for the opportunity to sign one’s tag
Tell me have you ever pondered the thought
Of having a wall of poetry, for the toilet door
Like a whiteboard, that you can clean with ease
Always ready for a new day, or week of ideas
Just imagine the mind’s workings in progress
Looking straight back at you when your mind is in idle 
This is what happens when one is on the loo
Time on one’s hands to think things through!

Premium Member Cheep Sweet Talk

"I've loved thee since I first saw thee as an adorable egg in thy nest!
Wouldst that thee would deign to marry me and put my pining heart at rest!
I hold thy delicate talon in my beak awaiting with bated breath,
For thine answer to my plea to be my beloved until parted by death!"

"All that I have to offer thee is a cozy nest in yon apple tree,
Safe from prowling cats and mean little kids to raise a family!
Please give me thy answer ere the sun sinks slowly in the west,
That I may begin to build thy dream home, thy cozy little nest!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Honorable Mention in Francine Roberts' "Enough" Contest -  May 2011

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