Best To A Fault Poems
He is the king of words and poets alike
Assay as you may, this man you won’t smite
His armour sparkles in night or day
Defending those too meek to say
His table is round, there's room for all
There are chairs with wheels so no one will fall
He hands out bronze goblets with sparkling wine
This king of lush gardens has spine
Renowned through the kingdom, for deeds he’s done
There is no battle, he has not won
His knights are loyal to a fault
So you better beware who you assault
Lancelot and Guinevere are by his side
Uniting followers far and wide
So sit and drink with us in harmony
And enjoy food presented artfully
Unsung Hero – My Mom
My Mom has always been unassuming, never flashy,
But her name deserves to be up in bright neon lights.
My magnificent Mom, Olegaria, is my hero!
In her eyes, no one is a zero,
And she is a blessing to all who crosses her path.
Successfully raising her own five children,
She also helped to raise all the stray children in her neighborhood.
Her guiding motto is “You can’t believe in God and
Not care about others - whether it is people, plants, or animals.”
An extraordinary human being, generous to a fault,
She would give her last slice of bread
To anyone who needed to be fed.
Nothing, including her time, is too good or too precious
To share with family, friends, and even strangers.
Often she’d sacrifice her own happiness,
If it meant that others would be happy.
While Mamacita is very humble, forgiving, and non-judgmental,
She is nobody’s fool and can be a fierce lioness,
Quick to defend her values and those she loves.
Caring mothers like her are especially rare today,
And should be declared national treasures.
Because of her powerful influence and the solid values she instilled,
I am a stronger, kinder, more conscientious, and better person.
My Mom helped me to see life in a more positive
And compassionate way – to treat people
How I would like to be treated.
Even though she is not a regular church-goer,
She prays several times daily and her home is her altar.
I thank God every day for blessing me with this wonderful mother,
And for her continued presence in my life.
Mom, you will always be my hero!
07-30-2014
Contest: Tell Us About Your Mom (12-28-2015)
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Placement: 1st
Contest: Unsung Hero (07-31-2014)
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
Placement: 1st
An endearing dialogue silence imparts
Gushing to confer but reluctant to talk,
Much is said by the unspoken glance~
A loud message of quiescent hearts;
Awareness resounds from unaware,
Void blares~ something lives there,
Feelings inhabit space of emptiness
As spirits shape form of nothingness
And passion conveys sans language.
Love is a prompt, love is a response,
Tender and bashful, daring and bold,
Hazy fog of dawn, exuberance of lark,
Blind to a fault, yet it sees romance.
Love is delicate and love is almighty,
Love breaks-up and love so unites,
Goodbye of sunset, hello of sunrise,
Dusk of eventide and a moonlit night,
It’s a rainy day, it’s a ray of sunshine,
Love strums joy, yet, love sadly cries.
It’s waning autumn, it’s waxing spring,
It’s frost of snow, it’s summer’s breeze,
It’s rose blooming, parched falling leaf,
Love is blissfulness in anguish of grief,
A spent nightmare, a cherished dream;
Hugs when arrives, hugs when departs,
And even when it parts, it still holds on,
It’s the sound of now, echo of the past,
And it’s always close-by, even when afar.
February 24, 2022
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 10 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Irreconcilable Paradox
The spiders were crawling into her eye sockets but she was okay with it
Like she had been okay with the mouse biting her big toe
And the cobra hissing loudly into her right ear
She was okay with everything; not wanting to make waves.
No! I said. I do not believe it
But I had not met her
She had been taught to be compliant
She was polite to a fault.
She expected nothing good to happen,
And she was not disappointed.
What if you pushed her off a cliff I asked
Would she scream or go quietly?
She screamed all the way to the water.
Too bad she drowned before I could tell her how proud I was.
o there is a place that dwells deep within
it makes warm the sun as new days begin
wellspring of essence that found me beguiled
each wondrous footstep I took since a child
deep shines that spirit, alight as the day
noonday bright luster to fluster the fray
two feet on my path from sunup's first spark
scattering shadows to burnish the dark
it sees me thru day as sun 'cross the vault
shelters thru darkness and fear, to a fault
it lets heaven’s weep give life and inspire
and thru winter's cold, I warm by its fire
but …
like lovers in moonlight, stories and friends
life stays so precious cuz one day … it ends
daytime is joyous, drenched sweet by the sun
yet … moon and stars only beam when it’s done
I pray that one day my words dance on the sky
staining each sunset when evening draws nigh
when, like day dying to set twilight free …
my soul, with the sun, slips into the sea.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice 3, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice (3) Any Theme Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Slipping Soul Sunsets Into The Sea" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
On the outside, I look as if I am a monster ready to attack any and everybody in sight, I look as if at any moment if you say the wrong thing I could snap.
But on the inside, on the inside I am like honey-sweet and forever flowing spreading my love to anyone who comes close enough to get to know me my knowledge filling the minds of the unknowing helping them spread their wings and fly into a better future being to them as a guardian angel being a shoulder to cry on using my wings to protect them from the pain of today holding in my pain in exchange for others happiness making light appear from a dark and empty soul
yes I know pleasing people is not good for the soul so I'm told maybe it’s creating the hole that I so desperately want to fill but to make people happy when I cannot be is what allows me to breathe and let go of a piece of the pain that traps me
wishing to be free I become a black hole absorbing the pain and sorrow of the people I come across even when they cross me I am loyal to a fault loving unconditionally even when I’m hated
Xxxxxxx
Husband, son, father, friend
Mary's sweetie, Matthew's dad, Edith's son, brother to Teresa and Roy
Lover of family, friends and time alone
Who feels passion, joy and doubt
Who fears rejection, being forgotten and failure
Who would like to see Paris, Greece and the face of my Savior
Resident of Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada
Xxxxxxxxx
Xxxxxxx
Proud, deceitful, lustful, liar
holder of grudges, occupier of dark thoughts
Competitive to a fault, craver of things material
Temptations target
Who feels torn in two
Who fears his darker instincts
Resident and member of humanity
Xxxxxxxxx
For Milton’s This is Who I am poetry Contest.
You were always happy, always on the move
with a great zest for life and a heart full of love.
We loved you too and checked to see if you’d get mad
if we mimicked your habits, but you laughed instead.
When we were in school together, you often horsed around;
I ribbed you about eye trouble, eyes too close to the ground.
You lived life with gusto, knowing your time was short;
playing hard, working harder, often with a jolly retort.
Honest to a fault, you saw the positive side of things;
kept things in order, solid rock with no mood swings.
Cut off jeans, gray tee shirt, tinted glasses, baseball hat;
great big grin, teasing quip, a big hello, a friendly chat.
You were the best teacher any student ever had;
I could call on you to help as though you were my dad.
You drove my school bus on many a winter morn;
dressed in brown coveralls, bottom legs frayed and worn.
You were there in summer, helping coach baseball games;
at football with your camera or turning cartwheels in the gym.
You taught us how to care, how to study, how to play;
how to work on the computer and make the most of every day.
So determined to learn, spending hours at a throw;
self-teaching all the things a teacher needed to know.
You are the poem of my life, who you were tells the tale;
your poem will last forever, healing memories never pale.
You wrote the words of this poem, pages of my life tell the story;
you will read them back to me, when we meet again in glory.
Dogs,
loyal
to a fault;
caring greatly
for their family.
Everyone loves
the furry,
friendly
dog.
Figure of a man, constantly open
Poetry marriage that makes him richer
Her heart and beauty a gift so golden
Separate it would change, die, and wither
Friendship woven his unfailing embrace
Knowing not about him; external blessed
Through unassuming nature God gives grace
Gratitude words spoken his life expressed
Love of the tall pine and Mckinley beach
Journey hand in hand through umber forest
Embracing warm home, changed eyes within reach
Captive to lucid euphoric promise
Blessed interest with family and friends
Personal journey of faith God ascends
11/8/2016
Insert from ; "DUMMY - Hurtful & Healing Words"
by; Richard lamoureux
http://www.wisedummypoet.com
Richard lamoureux
Richard
Husband, son, father, friend
Mary's sweetie, Matthew's dad, Edith's son, brother to Teresa and Roy
Lover of family, friends and time alone
Who feels passion, joy and doubt
Who fears rejection, being forgotten and failure
Who would like to see Paris, Greece and the face of my Savior
Resident of Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada
Lamoureux
Richard
Proud, deceitful, lustful, liar
holder of grudges, occupier of dark thoughts
Competitive to a fault, craver of things material
Temptations target
Who feels torn in two
Who fears his darker instincts
Resident and member of humanity
Lamoureux
Caressing Virgin Soil, With Soft Caring Hands
In her garden, wearing old pants and her long tresses
caressing virgin soil, with soft caring hands.
Generous to a fault, kind heaven blesses
she a gem of far away Asian lands.
Dawn's early rays would sparkle in her eyes
as she rose to smile at the rising sun.
In her thoughts up and away she flies
to have herself some harmless wishful fun.
Landing between heaven and joy on earth
she would pray sweetest happiness for all.
Later with piety pray aloud for all her worth
remain silent waiting for return call.
Angel wanting others joy above her own.
ONE MORN, FOREVER AWAY SHE HAD FLOWN.
Robert J. Lindley, 11-29-2016
How time has flown, vaporized, thrust us to the twilight of our life
Looking back we’ve pursued divergent paths and viewpoints
Years of toiling accrued debilitating arthritis in your aching joints
Abusing your weary bones, no concern of future or even afterlife
How sudden our journey can take a turn that no one can foresee
Yet our paths forever intertwine for in our veins flows brethren blood
Stumbling blocks and hardships taking you at times through the mud
Turn fragile life to shambles and bring without warning a catastrophe
Investing naught but good deeds through a lifetime with a heart that’s pure
Generous to a fault, target for exploitation, magnet to many a false friend
One disappointment after another in spite of you being many’s godsend
No pension slush fund, and now a major stroke, but with me please feel secure
I always loved to sing the phrase ‘you’re not heavy you’re my brother',
Don’t give in to despair, together we can be strong like no other.
AP: 3rd place 2022
Submitted on March 13, 2018 for contest TOGETHER WE ARE STRONG sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 1ST
Oh, My Dear Walter, how your words have slayed
Humbled me, broken me, molded, remade
To taste of your world, see above or below it
Wit of a wordsmith, wry pith of a poet
To so construe love without using the phrase
Scrawl the sinew of war, yet delight in the days
To yawp of the grass - journeywork of the stars
Help heal a nation, attend to its scars
Find grace among horrors, sift beauty from death
The soul-pull of tides - briny kiss of their breath
To habit us all ... to the dazzle of light
Celebrate ourselves, bequeath us the night
Ask recurring questions of romance and life
Of presidents, boot soles, and moldering strife
Demons and mockingbirds, Paumanok's dunes
The pale, horrid witness of unstinted moons
'Twas sad-blown, a bugle, convulsed, was a drum
Yet exquisite, the dirge for a soldier and son
The sorrow of clouds in a ravening sky
The weep of a child should the Pleiades die
Knit airy-fresh words, with uncommon phrases
Draw Apollo and Neptune in all of their phases
Be there adoration as hapless as mine
Yet no soul more ardently leveled, supine
No writer has reached deeper into my heart
Idioms and phrases ... such allurement, impart
Ah, yes, what I'd give to have just one chat
With the rare human being who afforded all that
And maybe I'm biased, if perhaps to a fault
But the name of MY Captain, O Captain ...
Is WALT.
A man of few words, my father taught by example.
The best thing he showed me
was to set my standards high
and to be my own judge -
always modest never defiant or arrogant.
If something needed doing
I should do it without expecting praise -
self-satisfaction being the ultimate goal.
He taught me to set my sights high
and to be my own boss
no matter the circumstances –
to be fiercely independent
not count on anyone.
I learned to go about my business and be self-sufficient.
I did not do well in teams – like a bull in a china shop
I had my objectives and went at them as a loner.
I never saw it exactly that way
but I did get good at it to a fault.
One day, it was a rude awakening when
it dawned on me how I was doing things for people
and they were consistently ungrateful.
I knew the problem couldn’t completely be with them
My so-called modesty had become self-fulfilling servitude.
It finally registered that if people didn’t have to ask,
they didn’t have to say ‘thanks’.
And that never mattered to me until
I realized that they were in fact not thankful
And THAT was a whole different ball game.
I literally spent days if not weeks
stubbornly trying to unlearn and reprogram myself.
Tried to get it through my skull that
if people ASK for something,
or at least ADMIT they would appreciate something,
that’s when they might actually appreciate it
How cheap can people be -
what a warped world we live in.
For me, it was a hard lesson in human nature -
I was actually an enabler encouraging people
to take me for granted.
People really do like games
even the ones who say they hate them.
Admittedly it was late in life I learned this lesson
And I admit I often still choose to do things
without getting people to actually ask.
But at least I’m cognizant of my ways.
And admittedly when I do pause
and play the ‘asking’ game, it does pay off.
But I’m so unbelievably stubborn I don’t always
want to pay the price for their gratitude
so to this day, if I feel something needs to be done
I’ll just get it done.
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on April 25, 2018
I smash the windows for ways to distract from
The cell of shattered saints. A ruptured rhapsody,
Of Wednesdays red with faith.
I crash the night with my heavy doubts.
I blaze the sky with an echo
The calling of yesterday and tomorrow collapsed.
The view is stretched in devout greens and futures unfathomed. .
I am waiting. I am patient to a fault and it flaws me, it floors me.
The weight of a heavy world, an indefatigable spectator.
A sunrise, the Northern world upon Valkyrie.
Letters of indulgence and selfless ambitions for selfish occasions.
Where tomorrow waits in blood-red devotion.