Best Timeme Poems
65 minutes reduced to 120 seconds
Bright lit room
White glossy tone with flowery curtains
Upon window's darkened vision
Your radiance emanated in celebratory gesture
As my eyes fell in love
All over again
But your smiles were too bright to see me cry
Dry heaving sadness gasp
As I looked down...I became the great
Pretender
The smile pretender
You wore a dark blue blouse, w/body-fitting jeans
Tall, plus-size model stature
My walking fantasy
Dark brown locks of joy slow danced upon flesh that
I
No longer embraced
You had something to tell me
"I'm getting married to a man who called me, sexy.
We work together in the same building, so everybody knows."
Spanish music behind the scenes
Your witty humor against song
Crackin' my smile within sadness pores
Showing me blank invitations
As I leaned in, inhaling this broken emptiness
Writing out words with her voice
My gentle grin, the eraser
Tears in Cold War mode
Heart enunciating disconnection bliss
"This wasn't how I wanted to see you again"
As satin comforter tries to soften my falling
Falling...into true love's innocence
The same comforter that covered those tracks
Asphalt scarred remnants from the bus you threw me under
"I always wanted you to wake me from my sleep
But not like this"
You became my dream, come true
Becoming dream again
In 120 seconds
...
He may have called you "sexy" with words
But I called you "beautiful" with heart
Yet you will never value how deep it was
Well, at least you can rest assured
That I got your message
© Drake J. Eszes
"True love never dies...even if the recipient never reciprocates." –D.J.E.
Down there, on the shell-coarse beach in a furnace of sand
The sea writhed and almost boiled at the shore,
Barefoot we walked, with her hand in my hand
No girl had ever driven me more.
She dry-licked her cherry lips and saltily smiled,
Solar flares bursting there in my chest,
The way she moved always drove me wild,
My eyes entranced by her shape in that dress.
The sun stamped in the sky like a chromium plate,
Dripped the colours of butter and steel,
And she stood there the most, the coolest hot date,
So radiant and still and surreal.
When she threw back her head as she lay on the grass
Liquid eyes burning silver and green,
With the parting of lips she gave me a free pass
And the world dissolved to aquamarine.
* Written for my daughter, who really does have a precious pair of Little Yellow Socks.
Little Yellow Socks
by Amy Swanson 12/5/2008
Little yellow socks
running down the hall
"Slow down with those socks on,"
I'd yell... too late, the fall!
Little yellow socks
padding softly late at night
climbing up into my lap
one more hug, out goes the light.
Little yellow socks
follow me with squeals of laughter;
Oh how she loves to run in them,
Begging me to come chase after!
Little yellow socks...
now not being worn a lot.
My little girl is growing up,
No longer just a tot.
Little yellow socks
will be cast aside someday
I must guard these precious moments;
in my heart, they'll safely stay.
Don’t promise me the world
That’s not yours to give
Neither promise me forever
When all you have to give is today
Just give me your today
And all it encompasses
And should forever come and finds us here
Our mere presence would speak of our genuine love
~*~
©04/17/11 Audrey Haick a.k.a. Annalise Brigham
On entering this contest I have to admit
The fame it will bring me when I push "submit"
Is all that I'm after - my name in bright lights
The kind of attention I earned with my writes.
I used to get noticed for walking in late
To school, then to jobs, and even for dates
My family picked up on my one loud defect
And thought they could fix me - no disrespect.
They told me that dinner would be served at five
When seven was really the time to arrive
Two hours they gave me to help cure the curse
But of course I found out and the problem got worse.
Right now I'm supposed to be cleaning my room
Instead, I am writing, ignoring the broom
My shrink says that tardiness is a cry for attention
I'll clean my room later for an honorable mention.
I cannot sleep in the darkness of the night,
My eyes won't close until the morning light.
I crave the pink and powder blue sunrise,
the morning dew like diamonds to my eyes.
Eyes of green much like the grass at dawn,
life much like the fog above the lawn.
The midnight lake is black like memories past,
I watch the silver moon, its shadows cast.
Three o'clock again, when spirits walk,
the silence better than whispered ghostly talk.
Sometimes I feel gray death descending,
I pray to see the golden sun ascending.
The winter trees are black against the sky,
branches reaching pleading asking why.
Let me hear the cardinals sing once more,
let me sleep in sunshine I implore.
© Danielle White
The rising sun throws it’s first beams
across the morning glade.
These waking hours are as it seems
to me the strength of day.
I stop and take in as I walk
the newness of the sights:
the deer feeding among the stalks,
the hawk up high in flight.
For me this quiet time of day
is sanctuary here.
In this reprieve I want to stay,
in this, where God is near.
Knock, Knock!
Who is it that goes there,
It is me; I am in your air,
And a deep root we share.
Knock, Knock!
What on Earth do you want?
It is me, the one they daunt.
But you and I have to jaunt.
Knock, Knock!
Would you just go far away?
It is me, and forever I’ll stay.
I ‘m here giving you the way.
Knock, Knock!
Why must you keep bothering me?
Because you are one of me and see.
I have come to set souls totally free.
Knock, Knock!
Have you not been here a time or two before?
Yes it is me; I will always knock at your door.
You’ve buried me alive deep inside your core!
®Registered: Ann Rich 2008
~The Light~
I remember the first time
Voices in my head getting way too loud
Just a little girl unable to enjoy the world around me
I thought there was no way out
Almost took the easy way out
Then I saw something shining at the end of a long dark tunnel
It gave me hope
A reason to believe
As long as I kept my focus on
~The Light~
Thirteen and so very young
Afraid to tell a soul
About the demons in my head
I thought that I had to deal with them
For myself by myself
Until I slipped and told a friend
Finding out she heard them sometimes too
Helped me feel a little better
It is just too bad she never had a chance to see
Brightness at the end of her tunnel
After she moved away
She just gave up
Walking away from
~The Light ~
I felt so bad
Yet I managed to hide the pain
I always felt inside
Even in my darkest hours
With many attempts behind me
I kept hoping to see
~The Light~
It is beautiful to see how a family can rescue
Their fallen
Just not giving up
Always feeling their unconditional love
Knowing they were there
It all helped me walk out of that dark tunnel
Embracing
~The Light~
Now I firmly believe it is possible
For the most troubled soul
To find a way out
Without taking the easy way
With love and support
I know you can do it too
As you go through life’s journey
Wherever it may take you
Always remember to look for and
Embrace
~The Light ~
By: Jean Shular
Form:
Hello Friends... I suffer from Severe Bi-Polar Disorder and this submission was inspired by
actual events that occured during one of my especially critical manic episodes. Be sure and
read Part 1 first so as to get the true gist of the poem and leave your comments here on the
Part 2 submission. Thank you for allowing me to share my pain for pain shared is pain
diminished.
Me, Myself, and I... (continued)
“Your, (Or “Our”), symptoms seem to intermit
And the fact that “You’re,” (“We’re”), a hypocrite
Tis no wonder we’re having such problems with diagnosis”
Then “I” had an idea so grand
To dispense with this at my own hand
A self-inflicted coup de grace would be my prognosis
So while the “Me” and the “Myself” squabbled
With courage newly cobbled
“I” spotted the dresser drawer and made my run
With fingers fiercely fumbling
Whilst they continued grumbling
“I” produced from the depths of the drawer a shiny gun
And now my life, though ill-fated
Was soon to be vindicated
This would affect us all equally the same
Would be no myself or me
No you, him, us, or we
But an inclusive all would be to blame
It took me a moment to figure
Out the safety on the trigger
Then “I,” (or “Us”), prepared to do the dirty deed
Then the barrel found my temple
And as it settled into the dimple
A still small voice did my “selves” choose to heed
Hence a moment of clarity
Harkened me to posterity
And I thought what a legacy to leave behind
“Can’t we all find a way
To save this miserable day
And avoid a broken body for someone to find”
And then deep within my soul
I felt and heard a simple drum roll
And the differing sides of me just subsided
And with my mind now as one
I worked to get this all undone
The whole business of this stuff I derided
And tis now true of fact
That I survived this ordeal intact
And lived to raise my face unto the sky
And here now as it ends
I find I’ve made good friends
With the “Me”, the “Myself,” and the “I”
Thank you for taking the time to share in my poetry. Please feel free to leave your thoughts
or comments here on this page.
J. Scott Burns...
It was past midnight
when rhyme knocked, disturbing the stillness
of my thoughts, and begged me
to write the night’s lore
But free verse, like Igorot warrior
entered the scene and in a war dance
encircled my illusion; ready to battle
the twin wrestlers from Nihon-koku
As I plucked out the syllables
blinking in the dark sky that rolled out
like papyrus blanketing my spirits
Fibonacci offered to do the counting
Ah, math is so fascinating
but I only understand
the simplicity of one, two, three, and four
that's saving me from corruption
My shadow sighed
and perceived the poetry
of my being gone
cold, like December ice
The forms have confused
my breath of life
like blooming horse on a deserted field
that I went to sleep without a poem
Taste remorse bleeding from my lips,
Feel the pain of my dreams unleashed.
Shooting stars struggle to eclipse
One last flash of a perfect wish.
Make the way with me,
Help my spirit flee,
Set my soul free,
It is smothered.
Let me find my place
In this tempting haze,
In the night's embrace,
I am bothered.
Hear the sounds, deafened sounds
Of reveries' lullabies,
As I reach spaceless bounds
Of welcoming purple skies.
Yes, I live just this way,
But it's an illusion, fake,
And I curse the damned day
That finds me to wake me.
Trapped by the truth,
I curse its majesty,
Dreams of my youth
Lose sense of gravity.
I'm not sane, not mad,
Not alive, not dead,
Shades of past regret
Haunt me farther.
I am straying blind
With my truth denied
On the other side
From the others.
Hear muffled sounds, deafened sounds
Of reveries' lullabies,
As I reach spaceless bounds
Of welcoming purple skies.
Yes, I live just this way,
But it's an illusion, fake,
And I curse the damned day
That finds me to wake me.
Quelling silent screams,
All alone,
Listing paper dreams
On my own,
I am sick of this
Absurdism,
what's the way it is?
Escapism!
Dreams are all shattered,
What could be worse?
Doom of the life in fetter,
Filled with the same remorse.
Fight or surrender?
Shield or defender?
I'm helpless at anything.
Thoughts of despair
Twirl in the air.
I'm losing my everything.
Hear muffled sounds, deafened sounds
Of reveries' lullabies,
As I reach spaceless bounds
Of welcoming purple skies.
Yes, I live just this way,
But it's an illusion, fake,
And I curse the damned day
That finds me to wake me.
So, now it has come to this.
Raging fires,
layered against razor-tipped tongue,
ready to land upon eagle’s nest.
Ready for Solace’s oceanic visions...
Visions that never cared to change me,
only loves me enough to embrace.
She didn’t care to see right through me,
only cherishing me enough to see within.
She never caressed my love
while picking past-time scabs,
guilt sway dangling; a presumptuous noose.
She never hung me to out to dry,
a dangling blanket bloodied from ambivalent missionary positions.
No jealousy grasp against my closet dusted skeleton.
She never cut me with diamond ring uncertainties.
She never told me she loved me,
while running towards horizons’ indifference.
She simply wants to be memories’ wind upon my hand,
knowing I shut my palms from judgments’ scythe
and nightmares of distance filling my miles,
wallowing in my sin.
As I,
smell the winds of change.
This scent
lingers,
a wisp crying for release.
A rose petal
no longer willing to come to terms.
A dream
no longer wishing to exist
with minds’ eye shut.
A heart ready
to be
continued...
© Drake J. Eszes
How long has it been,
since you dressed me up,
using your mother's silver,
and all those fancy cups.
You stuck me in the shed,
seems like forever now,
and closed the door,
and then you never came around.
Then today,
you drug me out,
polished me until I shined,
and took me back in the house.
I guess you know now,
I was made very good,
I am solid oak,
a very pretty wood.
Now I am wearing,
grandma's lace,
I love those flowers,
in your favorite vase.
I'll be here ready,
when your company gets here,
How I love dressing up,
thank you dear.
Like tipper tapping tiny feet toddling
I watched your mirriard of droplets
stream down my car window
Night sky like the backdrop of a show
and the lightning strikes adding to the mood of the performance
where ordinarily it might highlight or cast creepy shadows
Several crashes of thunder the only sound affects
breaking the deathly silence you could have sliced through
Stormy air and the countless hairs
of the body anticipating action
was the change in atmosphere of any such production
Yet for all the familiarity of yet another down turned weather front
something was amiss
I sat there trying to will my merry-go-round world to stop
to let me off and set me free once more
that I might strike out loose and run wild once more
like a horse loose of the reigns widly galloping away
alas I couldn’t budge
just sat their frozen to my seat
despite needing my home comforts around this hour
Knocking every ounce of confidence from me
breaking me to a point
where my tears were but one with the evenings downpour
No chocolate or ice-cream treats for pick-me-ups
nor interval for refreshment here
which would have been at least a little concillation
No, right now the world stood still
as our relationship played over from start
until someone knocked on the glass
concerned as to whether or not I was alright
Black and boggle eyed from wet mascara and numerous tears
like something out of a horror film
I turned to see who dare break this spell
Nodding to say I was fine
but not stupid they could see far from it
They pulled me out into secure arms
You could have been anyone
but you were gentle and understanding
A raging fire warmed by chilled bones
with simple hot sweet tea and the warmth of a blanket
your eyes soaked me in drawing out my story
you listened intently
I poured out my soul
You drank me in
Bringing me out of myself
you turnd so much sadness to humor
putting another chapter of life to bed
opening another as day broke through
I am now thankful for what passed
for without that part of life
we might never be making our own sweet music
creating future ambition and drive
Nesting and nestling as one together
Souls on one ship we sail new seas