Best Tallies Poems
Born in cloak of modesty, life toddles, yet thrives
Musing of blissful eternity in domain of paradise
Befriending and beholding its virtuous design
Facing triumphs and failures of quests worthwhile
From first breath to last it's a long thrilling ride
As love and desires rule trappings of eager minds
And will to acquire wealth demands equal time
While allure of fame ignites latent spark inside
As maturity gains wisdom it begins to ask why
Things that were treasured once, now fail to satisfy
And glitter that charmed then, now burdens eyes
When meaning of life changes as time goes by
And memories then bemoan venues forgone:
Failing to sail the oceans when tides were calm,
Forsaking kiss of love when nights twinkled stars,
Ignoring golden aura when fervid was the dawn
Precious become moments waning to end the game
When tallies are made of words said and unsaid--
Some seek reconciliation, some still burn the flame,
Some that meant so much, no longer mean the same
July 28, 2019
Categories:
tallies, life,
Form:
Verse
Quite far we have traversed, in pursuit of goals we chose,
Through troubles and trepidations of seasons in throes;
Sometimes reveling sunshine, sometime in glum of shadows,
Always together~ on barren terrains, or verdant meadows.
In albums of yore, we ruminate now, turning pages of life,
Banishing anguish of feelings-forlorn, fuming in strife;
Reminiscing in moments passionate, of love sublime,
Treasured in memories-beloved, accumulated over time.
Harboring wisdom, inlaid in life’s waning phase, as we age,
In realms of reflections, insights-sapient, now we engage;
Learning from knowledge gained, from choices we made,
Accepting with grace, laments of secrets, as yet unsaid.
Regrets unmitigated, voice remorse of unuttered sigh,
Seeking empathy from goodwill of repentant goodbye;
As life tallies good versus bad, that introspections confide,
Eying a tranquil state of mind, devoid of hate and pride.
It’s time to reflect, it’s time to mend, it’s time to befriend,
As journey of life, beaming content, approaches its end;
Living final days in covenants revered, humbly we penned,
Elevating self, in peace of bliss, to heavens we shall ascend.
Categories:
tallies, introspection, life, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
This map has grown lines,
deep creases, curled corners,
since you've been gone.
Tear-stains and fingerprints
mar its wrinkled pages like scars,
mocking markers
of where you've gone.
Mum's face has grown lines
around her mouth and eyes
since you've been gone.
And each sunrise tallies the days,
fading the map's mosaic of colours
as time fades the memory
of your silly smile.
This map is a liar:
It tells me you're nearby,
only a page-length away.
But an entire world separates us.
Cities and countries and continents.
Rivers and lakes and oceans.
Land and sea
have taken you from me.
And I want you back.
Categories:
tallies, family, miss you,
Form:
Free verse
“we look for that that does not come and go
it cannot be organic form, subject to decay
thoughts and beliefs are fickle, how little we know
yet come what may, our inner child continues to play”
The 'umbilical cord',
hereby symbolic,
its severance
where
initiated,
a soul of three,
and then much more.
Growing up was an
in-depth shared
furtherance,
whereupon,
directives were encountered,
either embraced or tossed aside.
Time and again, instant moments,
encouraging considerations,
imbued ponderance,
whereto,
we tether ourselves
to a sizeable pole of justifications.
Hail to a fitness club, or a cab to a McDonald's,
intermittent intervals, slim down or fatten up,
choice batters about a pole that remains,
until life expectance,
leans awkward,
wherefore
for time indulgence,
slacks a major facet as the pole evolves minor,
for one's immediate concerns, lies elsewhere, a priority.
All the while, the pole was steadfast but never silent
taking a backseat to the urgencies of the moment
significance tallies the hours near,
wherein
one now realizes that time is fleeting,
wonders how one's pole has shaped itself, was it worth their while.
At that instant, open their eyes
and see the poles that are
standing around them
bedside so they can
measure their
worth truly.
Where
we mete
out ourselves
to whom we truly
Blessed Assurance.
Categories:
tallies, allusion, analogy, appreciation, character,
Form:
Concrete
It took just a moment
A single concentration lapse
And down the drain,Bayern's effort went
Whilst Messi enjoyed the claps
Life is like a football game
As dicey as a game of chess
A step can earn you fame
Another can end you up in a mess
A poor tackle can earn you a red
A miscued shot can end in your net
Life is not a flower bed
Off the post,your strikes can ricochet
Goal tallies are all that are countable
Your loving fans can always turn their backs
Your strength is only a vegetable
So while you still can,stack up your medal rack
Categories:
tallies, art,
Form:
Didactic
A Cup Runneth Over
His cup runneth over, yet he craves more
As flights of hubris on wings of greed soar,
Rich is the life of caviar and champagne,
Where ruthlessness wins his races in fast-lane
And nightmares roil semblance of sane;
His cup runneth over, yet he fills again.
Some sans much, assert they have enough,
Strengthened by love when times are rough;
Not so for the man, whose soul preens in vain,
When arrogance of ego commands his terrain
As flights of hubris on wings of greed soar;
His cup runneth over, yet he craves more.
Dreams he dreamt once, vacant still remain,
Benevolence of love never could he attain,
For illusory is glitter spurious gems feign
And love is just a mirage phony hearts reign
Whose rhythm never attains lyrical refrain;
His cup runneth over, yet he fills again.
Void of nothingness is driving him insane
While haughtiness tallies his ill-gotten gain,
Detesting ruthlessly woes of others’ pain,
Mocking their misery in contemptuous disdain
As flights of hubris on wings of greed soar;
His cup runneth over, yet he craves more.
July 24, 2022
Placed 1st: Pick-A-Title, Vol 31 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Theme: A Cup Runneth Over
Categories:
tallies, emotions, humanity, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
He sits on the edge of the hill
his abode from a society
that shattered his dreams
he can hear the echo of thunder
in the valley below
see bombs of color burst all around
as he looks for a place to take cover
his mind is cocked
and fully loaded
he knows the constitution well
the second amendment
his right to bear arms
and his hopes of survival
he sees the tallies of bodies
of those that have fallen before him
as he crawls on the ground
like a lioness on the prowl
unaware the war has ended
through dissociation
of past and present
he sees the same scene
over and over in his mind
mines exploding,
soldiers imploding
planes offloading
guns reloading
his thoughts overloading
he lapses back
to the current moment
as the grand finale ends
and silence falls
the only sensual touch he knows
is from his faithful dog
who remains by his side
he pets his head
towers to his feet
as he wipes a tear
from his face
july 6 2019
Another Eight Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Categories:
tallies, military,
Form:
Free verse
Written: August 09, 2023, Why Are We Here Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
______________________________________________________________
I am certain that I have been here as I am now a thousand times before, and I hope to return a thousand times. Quote by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In the vast yarn of life, we are but a solitary thread.
A spirit bound to the mortal coil, a life to be led
In a bygone era, our purpose seemed unclear.
Orts of Hokum: with each life, eons disappear,
A truth does, however deep within us, reside.
A flash of awareness, an insight that can't hide.
We, as mortal beings, strive to find purpose in life.
Not only Immortal souls—entangled in earthly strife.
On this avid adventure, our souls embark.
In an unending trail of wisdom—an eternal spark.
We tackle time, relishing the rally of each life anew.
In our quest—from roots to tallies—we pursue
What is the reason for our Aeonian cycle of life?
Struggling with the turmoil of shelved inner rife.
What is the underlying function—this cycle serves?
If, with each birth, our memories veer and swerve,
Maybe it serves as a lesson for a person to grow.
To relinquish the falsehoods we falsely show.
Learn compassion and empathy, understand,
Every soul we cross paths with—is an integral bland.
And as we journey through this cosmic dance,
We realize that life is not just happenstance.
There is a purpose to this eternal quest.
A deeper meaning we must manifest.
As we cross the loops of birth and death, we evolve.
By pondering life's nexus, we nurture our resolve.
Reincarnating across the years—a destiny unknown,
We aim to arise and boost our conscious mind zone.
In this grand adventure, we find our souls are free.
To explore the vast realms of possibility.
And though our memories may fade away,
Our essence remains, guiding us on our way.
In each lifetime, we embark on a cosmic quest.
To experience the full spectrum—a rattling best.
Love and loss, joy and pain—they all intertwine.
Guiding us through this earthly terrain, divine
Categories:
tallies, analogy, appreciation, bereavement, dream,
Form:
Rhyme
His life now has permanently changed
Costing him more than aches and pain
As slowly he walks on prosthetic legs
Humility reigns, taxing venturous brain.
Propelling courage fiercely he fought,
Defying death, meeting face to face.
Concealed within his unflinching image,
Torment open wounds of unholy place.
Unsteady mind roams haunted now,
No longer capable to hold a steady job.
Death and destruction hammer his mind
Where angst and hurt relentlessly throb.
Determined as ever but he feels restless
Having acquiesced to tallies of life,
When his toll was counted in unpaid bills
And loss of dignity to agonizing strife.
Able man he was before he went to war
Returning home after he almost died.
As a grateful nation sincerely thanks him
Resolutely he moves to restore his pride.
November 9, 2018
Dedicated to veterans of war
Categories:
tallies, courage, hero, hurt, war,
Form:
Rhyme
A shored life
awakes the old
patience is a virtue
a wondrous light
a way for the world
one way passage
yielding trifles
abundant returns
nameless faceless
novelties in scrolls
constant to air
The Book of Life
accounts tallies
clearly visible
hidden from sight
chance of a lifetime
warps through glass
bottled sealed.
Categories:
tallies, allusion, analogy, appreciation, blessing,
Form:
Triversen
Sam dated Sandy, things were fine and dandy
Born into middle class means, they were killing that high school scene
One afternoon in Sandy’s bedroom their play went all the way
And the Angels wept that day
Sandy felt that they would marry, though Sam soon had his eye on Sally
Now Sam chased Sally, soon after that it was Allie
Sandy, Sally, and Allie; to Sam they were no more than tallies
And the Angels wept at this reality
Now across the nation, we can find these relations
Occurring in high schools from Bangor to Bakersfield
Thus, today another voiceless soul was ripped away as a right
And the Angels will weep again tonight
Categories:
tallies, bereavement, betrayal, hate, mental
Form:
Free verse
Where have all the heroes gone
In this nation facing war
Do you have faith in government now
You reap what you sew, no more.
A mother waits for the return of her son
A father is waiting for the war to be done
A son is praying for his Dad to come back
A daughter cries out, the night seems so black
Tension keeps mounting, tears have been shed
While Washington routinely tallies the dead
Where are the heroes, do they exist any more
Are the heroes the ones' protesting the war
I would die for my country and I would die proud
But over this war hangs a horrible shroud
We hear empty promises from our president's tongue
We're not saving the world, we are killing our young
There is only one fact that should not be refuted
When terrorists are caught, they need to be executed
If we don't follow it through, we can't protect our land
As death is the only answer they understand
Please don't tell us this is a necessary war
Repeating Vietnam, we've heard it all before
Tell us now as this war rages on
Where have all the heroes gone?
Categories:
tallies, peace, social, war, war,
Form:
Quatrain
Admirable Almights all I ask appreciatively allow me to attain,
be beyond bourgeois breeding ballads for the brain.
Create colloquialisms that cast competently into chimeras,
directing dramatists with doubtful determinations to
delightful dactylic discriptions.
Edible expressions that exite eyes and ears,
by freely forming a firm fire you'll flog any frigid forlornness fear.
God glorifies the good, my given gift Godsent thee,
my hardihood's husky, heart hungover with honesty.
I inscribe impenetrable insights, my individuality's
inanimate without improvisation,
other jaws jabber jargon jokingly, my journalistic journey's
like Jesus's justifications.
I know to keep with Christ a close kinship,
lie low then leap to light life is limited.
Maturing moderately I molded motives to mentally
manufacture music,
now naturally notions are necessary, abnormal novelistic natuarlist.
It's obvious this optimist ovulates obscure poetic offsprings,
perception pastel's perfectly personify the pen pusher's
potentcy passionately.
You're quasi qualified like Franz Kafka no question,
respectable written reflection ramble rampant even while resting.
Some scorn and show sentiment towards sonnets I've
scriptured successfully,
the toungue-tied troubadour tallies towering totals of
synchronized terms intentionally.
My untimatum is ultimately unrivaled when using unbreakable
utensils,
my voice vibrates vigorously, visionary with a victorious view.
Why waste what you wrote, wake up, wonder in a writer zone,
poems have vibes like a xylophone.
Heart young, yearn for God 365 times a year,
my zodac is wrong, attitude zealous.
Categories:
tallies, art, confusion, family, imagination,
Form:
Unopposed Oxymoron
This poem is light as a heavy contradicting complement
and rhymes with no correspondence of sound sharp at
the cutting horizon’s edge of melting confusing fission
Serious like a foolish jester and in trivial necessity it wants
to be chimed in disagreement discordant harmony figure
of speech silent shapeless tallies and out into central periphery
Traditional post-modern as an anchor less mooring unbound
a planar linear Oxo cube for poetry soups soaps speechless
rhetoric it says nothing’s everything all for refutation and proof
Cut as a half witted razor blade dull as laser bred dull diamond
the oxymoron in proximal distance joins divisions idiotic
intelligence bland precision in amorphous diffused clarity
I am nothing but and everything as I know to know nothing
where healthy insanity and clear normal madness when
condensed reflection and prismatic diffusion meets parting
My initial final backfiring telos in idle lazy effort’s endeavour in
rhyme and in lightness dissonant un-melodic featherless burden
is that being at different places in different times in the same
space and same moment is not an oxymoron but debatable truth
Written on 27th August in Johannesburg dateless timeless
and nowhere with a blank mind and mindful disregard
Categories:
tallies, boxing day ,
Form:
Rhyme
How unfortified are favored mystics;
ripened men devoid of backbones,
ladies with bogus analogies,
others, their nuisances known.
Some put fools on pedestals,
without attention to outcome,
but things are much different
when dealing with intellectuals.
If recollection tallies,
them old folks always let us remember:
“Self-praise is no recommendation.”
We do as the good book bids us:
“Answer fools according to their follies.”
There are more charades than sound guidance.
The throng was never us to ensue,
so we reject the king’s meat.
Truth is, we are what we eat … and drink.
How warped is their integrity.
Let them cast the first stone;
I’m balanced high on clouds from cannabis,
while their brains swim in mugs of Ethanol.
The bloody republicans suffer
from lack of …
lack of everything
except delusion of grandeur,
and the rich men have a strong-hold on America’s carotid.
My sister, college professor, asked:
“Where is the people’s guardian?”
Her expression eagerly awaits reply.
While estimations differ,
time (unbowed) will render true chronicles,
but while we tarry for time’s revelation
we yielded to trepidation;
what nincompoops are in charge of the people’s care?
Categories:
tallies, politicalmen, integrity,
Form:
Lyric