Best Throughout Poems
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In the absence of complication,
trials and tribulations become distant memories.
Above sapphire skies delight sanguine eyes -
inspiring forthcoming musings of the mind.
While a tiny thread weaves daydreams
among tulips and chinaberry,
creating comfort along a beckoning horizon
as footsteps are soft and freedom a gift.
Birthing a simpler life singing, whistling and
smiling as a weight has been lifted
like an acorn to a nest where hunger
is merely a fading illusion.
Borderless curves of a winding way
meander without consequence
when nature forms a calming view and
confusion is a season somewhere in the past.
Where wide eyes see the future as a ray of light,
a beacon illuminating every hope,
signaling that this is your time and place
and you rejoice in the feeling.
And as peace becomes common
along avenues of cobblestone stories,
welcoming gestures bloom throughout all…
in the absence of complication.
11/20/19
For the: In the absence of complication Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Lousy cruise is finally over.
We didn't visit a single freakin' island.
Should have gone Peak Season.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
POTD November 19, 2025
Jesus Christ loves all of the unborn children.
No matter who or where they are.
Red, yellow, black, brown, and white.
They are wonderful in his sight.
Jesus Christ loves all of the unborn children's.
Every where throughout all of the world.
Rich or poor, they are the ones he most adores.
They are truly wonderful in his sight.
Jesus Christ loves all of the unborn children.
Every where throughout all of the world.
Lower income or middle class. He loves
every lad and every lass.
Jesus Christ loves all of the unborn children.
Every where throughout all of the world.
Higher or lower social class. Those who come
in first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth or last.
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
February 14, 2020
Ben and Cora Green had seven children, like calendar pages turning;
Each one born on a different weekday, like mango sun, forever burning.
Zoe was pretty, with big eyes and dimples, while Leah loved dancing,
Yet, Bill was sort of a pessimist; like when mystic trouble is glancing.
Edward had a zeal for jogging, while Ruth ran many errands for free.
James always had a part time job. Pete was all sunshine, very happy.
Fun barbecues attracted friends, to lawns of families and red flowers;
When fluff, sleepy clouds wandered, during deep green, golden hours.
Hues of fall leaves were fawning, when flying on crisp air, like family;
Visiting the days of fuming flora, of cool chrysanthemums, so pretty!
The Greens lived in a house of calendars, as mystic prisms flash color;
The life sundered into separate hues, like in gardens of blissful wonder.
Saffron sun shone on their street, as they smiled at people they'd meet;
When silver willows whispered surrender, to warm breezes, of no retreat.
Neighbors were a part of noon memoirs. Shadows were national heroes,
In ruddy times of heat and desperation! In the heyday of burgundy rose.
'Lady Leigh' irises sizzled in red, with the fruity beauty of 'pineapple lily,'
While insects snacked on 'goldfish' plants, beneath pink clouds, so frilly!
'Starfish' flowers had big highs and lows, in strawberry days of summer;
While 'Peruvian apple' cacti bloomed, on a single, dark night of slumber.
The Green children conveyed nostalgia for joyful childhood, into old age;
As colorful fall remembers summer just left, so flower strewn and sage!
Zoe grew up to be a model, while Leah became a famous ballet dancer.
Bill became a happier TV weatherman, for after rain, sun is the answer!
Edward later ran in marathons, and Ruth founded a charity organization.
James worked hard for conservation, as Pete, a clown, toured the nation.
Like the smiles that charm each seven day week, as a teal world waltzes;
Or like satiny peace of pearl moon charm, when the purple world pauses!
'Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
And the child who is born on the Sabbath Day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.'
May, the Love of God
Come alive flowing
from soul to soul
surrounding one of
God's presence, in ones midst
Indwelling Spirit of God's temple
Not made with hands
But by throwing up hands
To surrender to God's guidance
That was sent through Christ
Drawing together the
Children of the Living God
One God, One Shepherd, One Flock,
in Unity that God
Sent His Son that we might
become created unto His likeness
Throughout the night distressed, unblessed by sleep,
I turn and writhe and toss, and vainly watch
The seconds and the minutes slowly stretch
To hours; and long since done with counting sheep,
Despair of morning. All alone I pitch
And sweat and wanly see the clock-hands sweep
Inexorably on. And so I keep
Unwilling vigil, condemned to spend such
Nights of restless exile. For I worry:
They’ve sent you overseas, and now you fight
A foe implacable and alien…
Stars and moon speed overhead, and teary
Spells will increasingly become my plight,
While anxious waiting is my regimen.
This Petrarchan sonnet is a variant on the model -- some half-rhymes and a scheme of abbabaab cdecde
I try to create silence in the colors
when I decorate my home
The rooms have their own high pitched atmosphere
Where the artist has painted
the smallest and finest details
My favorite artist is, Mother Nature
Nature has its own palette
and soft brushes
Maturity and renewal takes place all the time
The images change hour by hour
Every sunrise and every sunset
As the storm builds up around the lighthouse
No curtains should hide these beautiful paintings
If you, like me, love nature and art
Sit by my side and enjoy the view
You get goosebumps ... (I bet)
and will be affected by sacral dizziness
when you entering my door
Understand with your heart
19/11/2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Your Favorite Artist Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
2nd place in the contest
“Throughout Our Marriage“
© 2004 Michelle Lynn LeBlanc
All throughout our years of marriage
I’ve only fallen in love all over and over again
Yes, my love for you has only, but grown
Deeper that it’s ever been
I’m just so happy that you were the one
That I choose to have in my life
For your sincere, caring heart and love for me
Have made me so glad to be called your wife
Our marriage is like a chest of treasures
With new jewels and stones to see
As soon as you think you’ve seen all there is
There’s another surprise you can’t believe
Our love is like the pure white snow
That gently falls down from the skies
So pure and soft and beautiful
One can only be dazzled with their eyes
Thank you, Honey, for being so strong
In the days when I’ve been so weak
With wisdom and strength, you’ve often reached out
When I was broken and unwise in speech
I have grown to trust you, Sweetheart,
More than anyone I’ve ever known
And as the years go by Throughout Our Marriage
You will only reap the things you’ve sown!
© 2004 Michelle Lynn LeBlanc
Rising up in the morning saying to me “I love you.”
Going in and fixing her coffee, saying her prayers too.
She sits and smiles just for me.
Her quiet time is now waking to the news of the day on TV.
After a while about 45 minutes or so, she begins her day.
Asking if I want breakfast loving in her actions in every way.
She pitters and cleans after the meal.
Never ever complaining, oh’ the loves she makes me feel.
Cleaning the home, cleaning others, as she is a home care provider.
Her career she loves, aiding the elderly and the infirm in our small desert area.
Loving caring for others she has the light of love for others in her eyes.
How she balances home and her job is amazing never saying she’s tired, it truly mystifies.
The lady has God given strength, is faithful to me and the Lord all the day through.
Out of love for others God gives her a light in her eyes all for others and me too.
Hopefully my brethren you have the love that I have in your life.
I surely have my blessings and have mine, my best friend, my love and my spiritual wife.
set goals throughout life
live your dreams , keep these alive
before time will end
Even as time ranges
I still see the same old changes
A child wanting to be grown
The obscure wanting to be known
The lonely wanting to be accepted
The accepted fearing to be rejected
The poor craving for wealth
The wealthy paying for health
The contender eyeing a challenge
The rival seeking to avenge
The curious seeking adventure
The student keeping composure
The lover loving for love
The wanter wanting to have
The overcomer rising to steer
The succumbed succumbing to fear
The sun rising in the east
The bread rising from the yeast
The ambitious wanting to rule
And the elderly looking for cool
Do not memorize the words I whisper about thee in this dreamy life.
I have all the traps to combat these bad habits, they stop me from living this life inside my head.
Tired of running to corners to cover up the bleeding story of love and solitude.
The cursed names were part of my tiny past worlds. Now, aiding me to enter the state of intoxication.
In the darkness we lay down our foundation of living spilling out all the surreal truths and thoughts about living.
-ATOM
She claims that when she was a child,
all that she craved mocked and beguiled.
The cool kids wouldn't play with her;
the others--she did not prefer.
In school and college, praise she'd earned
all went to others; she was spurned.
Then working days were just as grim.
Her chances to excel were slim.
The higher-ups all failed to see
how great an asset she could be.
Her colleagues' efforts to befriend
fell short, and she would never bend.
Her love relationships went sour,
each leaving her depressed and dour.
She hoped in her retirement years
that friendship would assuage her fears.
As time wore on, no neighbors came.
She cries and feels they are to blame.
This gray-haired hermit sits and groans.
"The world defeated me," she moans.
May 11, 2023
Contest Name: Anatomy of Melancholy
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Throughout The Years
(Anaphora)
The years faith made life worthwhile
The love of family and friends happy smile
The guidance and blessings from above
The special joy touching my heart with love
The heavenly stillness in the starlit night
The always colorful beauty of twilight
The wonderment beyond the clouded sky
The sadness grief that makes the heart sigh
The golden ripened fields of blessed grain
The joyful ride on the cross country train
The blessed harvest wealth before the snow
The festive holiday meals by candle glow
The welcome ice cream truck upon the streets
The summer fun and moms delicious picnic treats
The autumn haze and the cooler air it brings
The lovely chirping songs the crickets sing
The many thoughts that our minds entertain
The loves inner feelings at times hard to explain
The life’s mixture of sunshine and the rain
The life’s laughter, teardrops, pleasure and pain
Erich J. Goller
Copyright 12.27.2011
Throughout time
I think of what’s mine
My skin, for what has meaning
And a story full of remorse
A period of freedom fighting
Beating “frees”
And a devastating course
A collaboration of cultures
Which my ignorance can’t know
My chapters filled
From an unknown blood flow
A perfected past?
That lies in my future
Of a new view of life
To create my perfect world
Of characters full of blithe
To my honorable ancestry,
Do I have to owe a depressed nation?
Or does my generation,
Feed the hate with prejudice beyond explaination
Throughout time
I think of what’s mine
My hair, for what is thought
To be of the ***** tillage
Is a collaboration of worlds
From opposite sides of the village
A mixture of knowledge,
May form my belief
The soft and coarse strands,
That bring much grief
Although my sensitivity is taught
By my parents sincere cares
Can my judgmental attitude
Be inherited by my forebears?
The only way to know,
Is to listen to the few
i cant reject these thoughts
this undeniable truth
Throughout time
I think of what’s mine
My tone, for what is mocked
And individuals try to change
My sophisticated conversation
And my mature thinking range
But can I really blame one side,
From example I’ve learned
Throughout, my small time
A normal life I’ve yearned
Am I privileged from my token mother?
Or my father’s “mother land?”
Back then, If seen
Where would I stand?
To have my thoughts neglected
I’d starve for expression
For the racism and discrimination
Conveys great depression
No matter my history
To the back I’d be seated
This skin, my flesh
a presentation defeated