Best Thee Poems
You, my homeland
Are of a beauty unrivaled
From one coast to the other
Your plains and rolling hills and pointy peaks
Cry to the heavens of freedom
Your jagged coasts and sandy keys
Offer the arms of welcome and opportunity to the world
And teem with the gifts of the oceans
Lakes and rivers and streams
Born with purity in the snow-crusted mountains
Are the lifeblood of the people
Bubbling with earth's finest bounty
And carrying the breath of all creation on their backs
From cities bulging with people
To a wilderness, untouched and untamed
You are the envy of the earth
And the bosom of liberty
America.
I live here
In the United States
Yes, I'm proud
Proud of where I live
Blessed to have been born in a place
Where I can chase a dream
Where I can speak my mind without fear of punishment or death
Worship, (or not), in the way I choose
Get healthcare, schooling, and assistance in a number of ways
Learn to drive and get a license when I reached 15
Vote at age 18 in a democratic process
And follow the interests I decide on, freely
These are extraordinary things
When you think of the restrictions
Of much of the rest of the world
I was taught from an early age not to take these things for granted
And that many of my opportunities and rights
Had been paid and fought for
By the energies and lives of our people in military service
I'm thankful for that
Whatever others may say, to me this is the greatest country
We are usually the first to be called upon
When another country needs help
And usually the first to respond, in any way we can
But we are also the largest target
And take much of the blame for negative things that happen
No matter where it is
And yes, that bothers me.
There IS no perfect place, and certainly not this
But it is a land of freedom and opportunity
And people move here from all over the world for those reasons
I was blessed to be born when I was -
When a kid could go for a walk and not end up on a milk carton
But I was even MORE blessed to be born WHERE I was
And I thank the heavens every day
That I am an American.
O' Shadow, This Soul Dares To Ask Of Thee
O'
shadow,
pray tell more
before midnight clock scores
and in its echoes lays to waste
souls yearning for life's sweeter taste
hearts pining to youth and romance's deep appeal
not those never ending sorrows from which this dark world steals.
O'
shadow,
do not delay
truth I thee pray
of dark clouds spinning now
about life, love and black ship's prow
shorelines weeping loud and in hot red-spit flames
pleadings from ravenous and ghastly pits, savage accursed games.
O'
shadow,
do not deny
terror and the why
your master in secret demands
death and pains grow upon bloody hands
as it tempts we of earth and sad mortal breath
through our desires even until our woeful and weeping sad deaths.
O'
shadow,
do these pains explain
waves of loss, life's stains
storms born from Hade's deep dark abyss
ravaging through our world as truth we dismiss
I beg do not laugh at crying heart and turn to flee
nor attempt to utterly destroy, small light flickering within me.
O'
shadow,
fear not its wrath
nor losing way in its dark paths
speak to me, let truth thy lost heart save
as wisdom dictates, hope rewards heroes truly brave
listen as grieving heart asks for this needed reprieve
and sets about sweetest of divine mercies, saving both you and me.
Robert J. Lindley, 7-14-2019
Rhyme, ( What The Shadow May Know But Never Dare To Tell )
How much do I love thee
Let me tabulate all the ways
I bought you a new Mercedes
With gold plated tire rims
I bought you a humongous diamond ring
The size fit for all Royals and King
I bought you a store of the finest lingerie
Secrets still held at the door by decree
I bought you a garden of roses so red
My love was surely in bloom, or so they all said
I bought you a ticket to heavens pearly gates
So that in paradise you’d have not to even wait
I bought you your very own private Lear jet
To see the world through champagne eyes
My love was a vault and you emptied it dry
My heart has now learned to never cry
How much do you love me?
Your lawyer seems to know
You claimed mental duress
Suffering under such stress
The Mercedes was the wrong color so I am told
I should have known, pink, not gold
The diamond ring was too heavy to wear
Your back injuries caused you painful despair
The lingerie didn’t cover you just right
So medical ailments kept you up many a nights
The roses in bloom where not the right flower
Your allergies they caused, thus making you sour
The ticket to heaven you plain out refused
Said it was one way, and that just wouldn’t do!
You had no issues riding my Lear jet
You rode the pilot as well, a mile high kinda bet
My love you tossed into the bin out in back
The divorce lawyer smiles at me, saying she sure is great in the sack
The moral of the Story is this!
If you are sitting at the table, and
You see a few beetles scurrying about
Maybe even whistling a tune or two
Listen carefully to what they say
Here is the poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
My Response (for the challenge of Mystic Rose)
You love me quite profoundly. That I know
From this sweet poetry I now have read.
So many things are running through my head,
Like how I might with equal measure show
My love for thee as splendidly, but oh!
I stumble with my meager words instead.
My quill runs dry; all eloquence has fled.
I call upon my muse that verse might flow.
My love for thee is beautiful and strong.
With trepidation I confess to thee
Although I never want to do thee wrong,
Can I love as well and as steadfastly?
Please bear with me; one day my words a song
Will be to echo words thou wrote for me!
Written Feb. 20, 2016
When children are taught never to forget
conflicts’ lessons, to love all humans,
to honor those through history
who, selfless, wrought liberty. . .
Then will spangled dreams for
our peace be fulfilled
as God imparts
tomorrow’s
grace on
all.
For Brahm Bailey's (Your) Country 'Tis Of Thee Poetry Contest
Note: The Etheree form was created by Etheree Taylor Armstrong (Feb. 12, 1918-March 14, 1994). She was born in Arkansas, USA and is known for using this form a lot.
As fiery beacons
Blaze
And cut through the
Night;
As restless sleep
Doth so tax and
Trouble me;
And I hang upon
A promise:
That my love
For thou
I did most fervently
Swear unto thee!
As icy comets roar
And sail against
The galactic tides,
Their streaming tails
Lingering upon a
Solar wind,
I will grasp
This one last chance...
To bare my soul
And chasten myself
From all my sins.
Then immortal wings
Will downwards sweep
From heavenly ramparts
Where divine Angels
Do so keep...
To gently raise me
To my feet,
And, softly brushing
The dust
From mine eyes,
Lift me high
To be seated down
Before the wise.
Whenceforth,
Hence so empowered,
Whilst slumbering
Fantasies
Once more take flight -
Unremitting and
Without respite:
When, passing through
Heavens doors...
To search you out
Across the sands of
Timeless shores.
Thus, finally, after
Stumbling
Across starry Aeons
Of an almost infinite age,
Throughout these
Many anguished trials
Of forlorn,
And seemingly,
Endlessly
Despairing days,
To overwhelmingly
Rediscover your
Presence:
Beholding your perfect
Form -
Suddenly and inextricably
Revealed
Before my wonder-struck
Gaze!
After enduring what feels
Like the damnation and
Curse of eternities
Countless years,
Now, heretofore:
How I shall cherish
And much adore...
This one true heart
Forever more.
The Black Hills wept for Thee
East of the Black Hills of South Dakota,
On the Pine Ridge Reservation,
Live a proud tribe of Oglala Lakota,
Part of the Great Sioux Nation.
On saddled chargers rode half the Regiment,
of the Seventh Cavalry.
A tune they played on behalf of the GarryOwen,
was such a sight to see.
While climbing through Prickly pines, they spied,
near the summit of Porcupine Butte.
Spotted Elk with Hunkpapa Lakota tribe,
the chief of the Minneconjou.
Five miles West through the cold day they walked,
the Lakota and soldiers of the Seventh,
Where Wounded Knee creek's icy waters balked,
between hell and heaven.
The Colonel ordered all of the tribe's rifles confiscated,
while the braves danced the ghost dance.
For rumor had spread of a new religion, long awaited,
that would turn the tide of chance.
Then suddenly came the report of rifles fired,
as the women and children fled to a ravine.
From the heights the thunder of cannon, now inspired,
close quarter fighting and lead, now convened.
Who knows where Providence went,
on that cold December morning.
Both guilty and innocent, now spent,
lay dead with little warning.
Bodies of the fallen now sprawled across the snowy plains,
with faces frozen in a moment of violence.
One mass grave with all, is all that remains,
of tears and laughter forever silenced.
In the days that followed medals were pinned to chests,
who proclaimed victoriously.
Though God only knows why, ignoble and divest,
life taken in vain, ingloriously.
In the shadow of the land of Sitting Bull,
was now told the tragic story.
Passed down from Mother to Daughter were recounted,
days of lost glory.
“Let us put our minds together to see what life we can make for our children.”
-Sitting Bull
I LOVE THEE
I am no voluptuous beauty nor do I live a life of purity
I can only say: I love wholeheartedly with all I am so truthfully
I keep my heart open though it gets hurt so often
I avoid to be irate as I know love changes the heart rate..
Guys tried to coo and woo, they say words as for "only you"
Yet, hard to believe it is true as I see some untrue
I give chances as my heart marks with tact entrances
I learned from various instances looking man in romances
In places where rules impede, two persons who wants to bid
Not of money but of affection, in them must be determination
I love thee not of what you have…
Not even of who you are but to how you are to me…
If I love you, don't tell me much what to do…
As me, myself will show you, I am that real and true..
Yes, I am liked by many but tell you what:
I don't like this honey nor am I proud of it in anyway
One is enough to make me stay
Stand with me through it all, I give my best not to fall
My name your sweetest call echoing in every wall..
Hold me firm yet dear; allow me to move closely
We'll make it anyhow, treading smoothly on flows...
We are strong, aren't we? No one moving alone
Together we'll face phases in tune, though there will dunes..
________________________________________________________
© OLIVE ELOISA D. GUILLERMO
3:25 pm, 07/13/2013
***CONTEST: ANY POEM GOES #13
SPONSOR: POET DESTROYER
8TH PLACE (TO GOD BE THE GREATEST GLORY)
***Sponsor SKAT A
Contest Name Any Old Poem #5
4th place
Lord I love You for so many reasons beyond comprehension,
the way You light up my life during strife is so unbelievable.
You have brought Salvation through the gift of Ascension,
for the moments of righteousness are so unconceivable.
The way You light up my life during strife is so unbelievable,
I have found the way to Heaven’s door following Your path.
For the moments of righteousness are so unconceivable,
as You have saved me from the depths of hell’s evil wrath.
I have found the way to Heaven’s door following Your path,
You severed my ties from the devil with comfort and ease,
as You have saved me from the depths of hell’s evil wrath,
all my anguish and torment has begun to rapidly cease.
You severed my ties from the devil with comfort and ease,
You bring out the good in my life through bestowing amenity.
All my anguish and torment has begun to rapidly cease,
Lord, I pantoum You with this gift of my heartfelt poetry.
You bring out the good in my life through bestowing amenity,
delicately capturing my essence in things formed in creation.
Lord, I are You with this gift of my heartfelt poetry,
as You bring me a heartwarming and sincere sensation.
Delicately capturing my essence in things formed in creation,
You sense my weakness and make me strong when insecure,
as You bring me a heartwarming and sincere sensation,
You lifted me up from the troubling and darkened obscure.
You sense my weakness and make me strong when insecure,
I pull through without pain nor any difficult emotions.
You lifted me up from the troubling and darkened obscure,
showing me undying faith in me with intense devotion.
I pull through without pain nor any difficult emotions,
as You heal my aching wounds with Your gentle hands,
showing me undying faith in me with intense devotion,
for I know You are the only saving One that understands.
As You heal my aching wounds with Your gentle hands,
You have brought Salvation through the gift of Ascension.
For I know You are the only saving One that understands...
Lord, I love You for so many reasons beyond comprehension.
April 23, 2018
WAIT!
the poet laughed
there's love to document
there's passion, there's hate!
WAIT!
where's my pen, my typer?
my life is my art
Living passed by and the world did it's thing, rotating, tilting, and changing
but the poet sat idle, conjuring thought
he dreamt aloud, awake
of simple times
he drank
he smoked, lied, and bargained
yet never put into motion
what realities he should have, could have sought
funny how it happens for the poet
poetically tragic, this nothing whatsoever
WAIT!
cried the overweight, medicated poet
cornered by walls of his own brain
such a creative mind wasting away
a mind with fingers
no friends, and without eyes
the Poet scurried, smelling rain one day
so he looked to the window and wrote "Thee Greatest Poem Never Spoke"
trees gave leaves to fall and winter gave way to crawl
then blew it's load
the poet spoke again,
WAIT!
these beauteous seasons are the very reason my pen leaks prolific ink of lines so great
then spring sprung
bells rang and flings flung
but the poet failed to dare to love
women and children and angels passed his tearful face
and he gasped
WAIT!
I must write and express and show this amazing grace
sadly summer came and went again
upon it's glorious exodus the poet wrote and wrote
more and more of stars he never saw
and of rain his skin failed to feel
and of things he could only imagine
tears of everything doused the poet's pale cheek and he ate the pain which enveloped him
dim lights appeared as a nightmare
and finally one bright light of tunnel vision sizzled his name
the name he'd long since forgotten
just like everyone else
wait...the poet whimpered
wait...
tho' fate
would not,
could not,
WAIT.
For your penny's worth of thought,
Please take two cents worth back.
For the destruction that you brought
With all that empathy you lack,
For your narrow vision tunnel
That's dug deeper than your tact,
We gift to thee a shovel
So your barbs you may retract.
17.11.11
Composed for Brenda Chiri's
"Judgemental People And Haters"
Bed how I love thee
Let me count the ways ….
Always ready when I am sleepy
And in need to rest my weary bones
You keep me warm and cosy
Are the best company when l feel alone
You comfort me when I am unwell
Help me to mend and heal
Are there when I need to escape the world,
When life's worries and woes I feel
When nature is raging outside
You make me feel safe and secure
With my head under the covers
You protect and reassure
I share you with the one who holds my heart
You have watched my child grow
Many tears and much laughter you have heard
Private thoughts and discussions you know
You are a great keeper of my secrets
You know the real me
Supportive, available and inviting
Bed how I love thee ……
On a fine April day, set out in the great cruise ship, Titanic,
Into the pelagic waters of Atlantic, with the weather alluringly sweet.
Plush it was with beaming fellow travelers and amenities astounding.
A journey of great excitement under a star-studded sky at night.
With the crew so hospitable, there was overwhelming warmth and conviviality.
Wine and liquor flowed down through gullets; tasty cuisines were served.
On the deck couples and lovers waltzed, a sweet breeze kissing their cheeks.
But tragedy loomed large in the form of an iceberg, unobserved.
I sat away from the crowd enjoying the rising gaiety.
What was the deafening sound I heard from near?
With a violent shake, the huge leviathan turned to one side.
Hardly knew what was happening, but sensed death was not far.
Hit hard n' ripped into two pieces, the vessel began sinking into the waters.
Amid euphonic melody and revelry, some didn’t know what was happening.
Some in panic ran helter skelter with growls and groans renting the air.
A man gave away his lifeboat to a mother and child, his own life abandoning.
It was a moment I witnessed the beauty of selfless love.
I was inspired to give away my lifeboat that I secured by chance.
A divine spark hit me, and all anxieties vanished instantly.
Sudden was the transmutation, I saw the whole scene in a new stance.
Heaven’s fire was lit in my breast and in love, my spirit began to glow,
How great it is to give life to someone who needed it more.
I heard the angel’s voices flit, saw a new door opening wide.
Had a fleeting vision of the heavenly hall with aureate roof and glazed floor.
I knew all my agony depart and hope instantly sparking.
With God on my side, I felt sinking into the icy depth,
My mind was calm with an unusual courage filling my every nerve,
And my horizon growing bigger and enlarging into uncommon width.
My inaudible parting words were “Goodbye Titanic, fare thee well,
In the oceanic depths, you stay as a symbol of world’s fleeting glory,
Making men think that fate can shatter and pulverize human hubris.
In the sunless Atlantic lair, lie down ageless to tell your allegorical story"!
Oh, That Earth Wouldst So Truly Honor Thee
Dedicated To-
"The Great Unknown, Unsung Poets of the
- Past, Present And Future"
Oh, that earth wouldst so truly honor thee
You write poetic verse with such deep glee
As in glory-fruits reaped from your ink tree
Birth gentle winds blowing through land and sea.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Inked pools born from candor and purest heart
Offerings of whispers that truth imparts
Defeating the dark which sets us apart
To gift more, fill up love's bountiful cart.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Within thy soul and even thy sadness
Counter with blessed hope this world's madness
Shine with rhyming words, bringing on gladness
Yet ignore world's inglorious fadness.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
And through thy darkest sorrows gift anew
Heroic words that deepest dark breaks through
Gifts empathy, care many are thus due
For truth, darkness oft turns sky weeping blue.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Oh, that earth wouldst so truly honor thee
You write poetic verse with such deep glee
As in glory-fruits reaped from your ink tree
Birth gentle winds blowing through land and sea.
Robert J. Lindley, 9-22-2020
Rhyme,
( A Look At A Sad Reality, Those Worthy But Not Rewarded )
Shall I compare thee to your mother's ****?
Thou aren’t more lovely, but more flatulent.
Rough winds do shake it; and bring on a farce
And all her clothes hath all too short a rent
Sometime too hot-headed of hell doth burn,
And often is the true nature exposed;
And every foul from fowl; my stomach churns,
By reason, or by nature's raging closed.
But thy infernal diet shall ne’er start
Nor gain possession of which now I grasp;
Nor shall we meet again; let’s stay apart,
When in eternal sounds the voice does rasp,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can cry,
So long lives this, and I bid thee goodbye.