Best Thoughts... Poems
In sandy dunes on my back I lie
Dreaming of warm beaches, blue sky
And a girl named Lorelei
On memories I fly
War seen from on high
I vow to try
Not to cry
As I
Die
Written November 5, 2019
For the Rhyming Nonet contest.
Categories:
thoughts..., memory, war,
Form:
Nonet
I watch as she sleeps,
the gentle rise and fall of her chest
making sure her breathing is rhythmic
Thoughts take me back years ago
when we were playmates ~sisters
separated by little more than a year.
A tear escapes my eyes. I wipe it away
for if she wakes and sees me crying,
her tears will flow again.
My sister, my best friend
Always vibrant and busy with life
Taking care of everyone
and putting her needs last.
As quickly as a breath was taken
she'd had a stroke
and when she woke
her life had been turned
upside down, mouth drooping
as if she were wearing a frown.
My heart grieves silently
Bleeding with pain I cannot show
for I'll not let her know my fears~
My tears hidden,
I replace them with a smile
and if she would look into my eyes,
she'd know. She'd know my anguish.
Her needs are many~
Slurred speech, limp left arm
Fran, who is gifted with empathy
for the plights of others.
Now, she fights to get her life back.
She sobs when friends call
and I have to say, "She's just emotional."
Damn it! I would be, too!
I tell her it's okay and smile~
Sometimes, she smiles back at me
Sometimes, she turns her head away
We talk about childhood days
and when a haze fills her eyes,
I talk about something silly~
desperate to give her hope.
A blood clot broke free from her brain
at least it had the decency
not to enter her heart.
Distraught, of course she is
but my sister is a fighter
and we work together, day and night
to help her hand grip mine tighter.
It's 4 am, and by the night light
I look at her face, wrinkle free
but only when she's asleep.
I pray to God while I weep,
"Please give her the life she knew."
There's little more I can do
except to be her big sister.
She'll get through this hard time
with help from family and friends
Those who love her as much
as she loves all of us.
We talk about it being another hurdle
she'll get over, but this one...
this one is physical, a literal mountain
that she must climb, but not alone.
There are goals to set and reach
and each step she takes strengthens her will
to be as independent as she used to be.
I sit here, watching her as she sleeps
and only then do I allow my tears to fall.
Categories:
thoughts..., sorrow,
Form:
Free verse
The wonder of nature you describe with the color of feelings
that even the blind sees the beauty, for you anoint with your sight.
From my forgotten core, words you inspire gush forth in indignant prose
like the lion who protects her young, who roars in warning lest she devour.
You lend me insight from your wisdom and give me laughter with your wit,
you pump the pulse in my veins when passion and sensuality is lit.
You kindle the fire in this heart when love is found
and collect the ash from the burnt cinder that haunts, when love is lost.
You hold my breath in exhilaration when I soar to triumphant heights,
the balm that soothes my pain when I’m down, your song remains
the solace I have found when life is hard, and the one profound
expression of the myriad emotions that defy words of common use.
O Poetry, you bring tears to my eyes, when in your lines I feel God cries
as I endure and withstand the ugliness, the haughtiness, of someone’s pride.
Yet with the turn of page and time, you coax from my lips such radiant smile
for with each stage in this life of mine, a poem is birthed, flutters, and flies.
24 May 2015
Poem of the Week - 31 May to 06 June 2015
Awarded 1st Place for both A Poets's Worth Contest and My Favorite Poem Contest
Categories:
thoughts..., imagery, metaphor, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Aromatic sweet fragrance permeates our air
In eminence of your fragile Jasmine flowers
As lovingly you engage slender ruby buds
Tending to green foliage in softest of whispers
In verses of your heart, meant for me to hear;
Guiding my sight higher to mysterious universe
As glowing night-sky unveils celestial theater
Where twinkling exuberant stars brilliantly glitter
Arousing amorous stares breathing in unison
Standing cheek to cheek, conversing with Venus;
Extolling seductively passionate secret dreams
Unfolding revelry in doting pregnant themes
Welcoming salutations--yearning for much more
Exhilarated by amour of dulcet solicitations
Deciphering inference of romantic metaphors;
Embracing each other in zealous anticipation--
Sensuous thoughts drifting into night's allure
Enticed by lure of every flirtatious rhythmic pulse
Eager to explore melodies of moonlit affections
As mating song of nightingale serenades our love.
August 8, 2019
Poem of the day on August 10, 2019
Placed 1st: Strand choice T contest by Brian Strand
Placed 3rd: One in four poetry contest by Joseph May
Categories:
thoughts..., love,
Form:
Verse
When all is but
dark and dreary,
and coldness wraps the
silhouette of
my wooden surface,
I listen to the
wafer thin whispers
echoing in whimsy tones-
when the moon
wind-chimes sway
to the balmy breeze;
hung on the side
of a weathered balcony,
where the sun sometimes
unfurls her feathery fingers,
to rest upon timber
corners of my psyche,
I search for compassionate
caresses to comprehend
unsung serenades.
But tonight I feel the
burden I carry in
somber stillness,
as my voice is unheard,
amidst pen and paper
wrapped around
my chestnut skin,
with scribbled poems
of ancient tales.
For I’ve long been
sitting like a
silenced marionette,
letting my bones
serve beyond I can give.
Somedays I am your listener,
whilst you grieve in seclusion,
as obsidian tears stain the
edges of my tanned shoulders,
when fears sink into
the depths of carved linings
within my hollow heart.
Yet, sometimes,
I hear your laughter,
sharing the redolent rainbows
within your soul,
when storms steer away,
to paint your crystalline
canvas with mauve
memories entwined
with mulberry musings.
But I still stand frozen;
a three legged table,
with nowhere to hide,
whilst the world
remains oblivious,
to the aching heartbeats-
imprinted between
cinnamon glazed bruises.
Perhaps, there will be a time,
when clocks shall halt and
tick to the rhythm of my thoughts,
and you’ll feel the heat
of my unshed truth,
and I will no longer be just a mere
ornament designed to
perform as you please.
Categories:
thoughts..., deep, giving, loneliness,
Form:
Personification
So many pennies,
lost in the system,
rejected, neglected,
dejected -
cursed by '99' price tags,
a charity box favourite,
nobody wants nor waits for.
So many forgotten pennies,
lost on the streets or behind our sofas,
yet pounds are never thrown away.
Both are round, so why do they only care for the pound?
Maybe its a matter of currency and colour,
or social structure, value and power.
No pound without pennies,
only empty piggy banks and jars,
but pound lovers take pennies for granted,
abuse us, belittle us, try to control us.
They get jealous of our shine,
try to manipulate us into a mouldy depression -
no wonder there are so many homeless pennies.
When did we stop being a priority,
descend to the bottom of society.
Just because we are misunderstood, do not fit in,
we are still round, but ignored by the system
a conflict of civilisation.
Imagine if all the pennies got together,
instead of being slaves to the pound?
Then surely we'd be stronger,
or would we just become pounds?
Has the penny dropped yet?
Sunday thoughts
Silent One
9 February 2020
Categories:
thoughts..., analogy, metaphor, political,
Form:
Free verse
Beside the still waters he leadeth me
Shepherd of my wandering soul
I do not want for anything, you see,
My shepherd has made me whole.
I have walked the treacherous path
But I did not need to be afraid
The rod and staff my shepherd hath
I can lie down in both sun and shade.
When I am tired and, oh, so weary
He renews my spirit, replenishing,
Restoring my spirit when I am dreary
Goodness and mercy are my finishing.
I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
And drink of the living water of life
The shepherd gives to all his adored
Who seek peace and flee from strife.
Written June 3, 2021
#40 on Best New Poems List
Poetry Soup
June 10, 2021
Categories:
thoughts..., religious, spiritual,
Form:
Quatrain
Turn your heart to the word of God
Still your thoughts
Silence your tongue
Surrender your ego
~ His Will be done
Categories:
thoughts..., god, heart, silence, uplifting,
Form:
Free verse
Life led by the thoughts of another...will never be your own
Categories:
thoughts..., character,
Form:
Monoku
Day after day I sit, poised deep in thought and contemplation
while tourists stop and stare at me with eyes of admiration
Sometimes they seem hypnotized, looking without blinking
I wonder what they would think if they knew what I was thinking
I wish Rodin hadn't sculpted me wearing this scowl of a frown
I'd wink and smile back at them if I could put my right hand down
I've seen children hide their eyes when they realize I am nude
Rodin was the sculptor, so don't go blaming me. Don't be rude!
I don't mind being in the buff. Who needs to wear proper attire?
There's a lady who visits me on weekends, eyes filled with desire.
I was originally called 'The Poet.' Maybe you didn't know that.
But the museum guides never mention that in their chitchat
"And here, ladies and gentleman, the most famous Rodin of all.
Six and a half feet tall, having a place of honor in the gallery hall."
And if I'd been standing, my height would've reached twelve feet
My butt is really getting sore from seating on this pedestal seat
The gift shop sells replicas of me. I've been reduced to pint-size
and after one hundred, thirty-seven years, I've started to oxidize
Great. Here comes another tribe of school kids, all chewing gum
I guess they'll wad it up and giggle when they stick it on my bum.
So goes the inescapable days and nights of a sculpted work of art
I have the capability to feel because Rodin chiseled in me a heart
8/19/17
Categories:
thoughts..., art, imagination,
Form:
Personification
Why do they call it 'tourist season'
If you're not allowed to shoot 'em
Seems like a great opportunity
To end the over crowding problem
If a house fly loses both of its wings
Would we have to call them 'walks'
Is it possible to have a civil war
Of course not that's just silly talk
Any idea what the best thing was
That came before sliced bread
If a turtle somehow loses its shell
Is it homeless, naked, or dead
I find this saying quite unnerving
“Practice” is what doctors do
And braille on drive-through windows
Find that kinda scary don't you
If a parsley farmer ever gets sued
Can they legally garnish his wages
Well that's enough of this silly talk
At times I go through these phases
© Jack Ellison 2012
Categories:
thoughts..., funny, silly,
Form:
Quatrain
Here in my room,
I lay in my bed,
With every thought of you,
Intruding my head,
Like snapshots in my brain,
Of the last thing you said,
My gut is violated,
And I twitch with rage,
I cannot free myself,
From this anxiety ridden cage,
And in this chapter of our life,
It seems I can't turn the page,
This torture is much worse,
Since you have been away,
I am so scared,
That away is where you'll stay,
And no matter how hard I try,
I will have to lay here in my room,
Alone one more day.
By Mac Holmes. Janettas grandson.
Written sitting in my room alone still waiting...
Categories:
thoughts..., lost love, love, sympathy,
Form:
Free verse
We learn
right from wrong by
the zenith of our youth
but do we learn moral lessons
in the exact way, and
do some learn them
at all?
We show
distaste toward
those whose definitions
of morality might very
well differ from what we
figure to be
correct.
We need
to look beyond
our own realities.
There are children who lack guidance
and some who know only
cruel stings of
abuse.
There are
children who lack
even basic values,
for they witness horrendous acts,
yet harshly we would judge
those kids when they
go bad.
Children
of the streets and
some in the ghettos too;
also priviledged ones who have
no one to look up to -
wild and crazy
they run.
Wicked
they seem. We judge
them by our own standards
of right and wrong. What can be done?
Can we not all agree
at least on one
good rule?
Golden
is the rule which
we must teach today’s youth.
Until we ensure all children
feel love and protected,
society
will fail.
June 1, 2021
NA in the Heptastich Poetry Contest
For the 'ALL YOURS (Jun 25)' Poetry Contest of Brian Strand
Categories:
thoughts..., judgement,
Form:
Verse
Thy Silent Thoughts
So beautiful are thy silent thoughts
I would watch thine eyes all day.
There is wonder in them, as the sun's first flash
Through tumult of ocean spray;
In them the shining calm of upland pools
Mirrors the glory round,
And their shadows are the shadows of sweet flowers
Upon the summer ground.
So beautiful are thy silent thoughts
I would watch thine eyes all day;
More beauteous in their silence than the stars,
Than the silent stars, are they.
R. J. Lindley,
November 9th, 1973
Categories:
thoughts..., art, creation, desire, devotion,
Form:
Romanticism
Is it true,
that reindeer can fly?
Is it true,
that Santa Claus is a friendly guy?
Is it true,
that he lives in a secret house at the North Pole?
Is it true,
that he is wanted by Interpol?
Is it true,
that elves love goodies?
Is it true,
that dad nibbles cookies?
Is it true,
that mom gave Santa a kiss?
Is it true,
tell me... dear sis.
Categories:
thoughts..., christmas, cute, nursery rhyme,
Form:
Rhyme