Best Topic Poems
God, so cruel a plague upon me,
dreams crushed, forsaken,
even as I hopefully step
where the sun leaves me to smile
for those brief but celebrated
moments.
Through tear blurred windows
dear hearts that suffer more than I
can despise their suffering -
much more than my own sad fate.
I'm called brave but it is they
who smile through pain,
struggle for the right words.
They need not speak.
How lucky I have been
no matter my end
to have known such love.
Hope for sunshine on a snowy day,
Hope extra money is added to your pay.
Hope to awake and find you there,
Hope it was a dream and you still care.
Hope the world could be at peace,
Hope gun battles would cease.
Hope the countries leader would get it right,
Hope no more refugees take flight in fright
Hope when I am old someone will care
Hope someone will say, let's fix your hair
Hope each and everyday
Hope God listens when I pray
Hope he answers one or two
Hope he does the same for you
Penned 14/11/2017
Used topic c
contest: choose a topic...Hope
I never talk about the fact that I am going blind,
it is something I have a hard time dealing with;
really it is best to just put it out of my mind.
If I could make it go away that would be my wish,
no drugs or any operations can cure this girl;
it is something, I have a hard time dealing with.
And while I still can- I dance and whirl and twirl,
I memorize nature, all the colors and scenes;
no drugs or any operations can cure this girl.
I keep within my soul all the different greens,
and all the shades of the sky and all the flowers;
for when I am blind, there will still be dreams.
While I can- I write poems into the small hours,
and when darkness comes, will you read to me?
Read my poems of forests, skies and wildflowers.
While I can- I write poems into the small hours,
I never talk about the fact that I am going blind.
And when darkness is mine, will you read to me?
Really it is best to just put it out of my mind.
____________________________
September 23, 2016
Poetry/Terzanelle/A Difficult Topic
Copyright Protected, ID 16-833-016-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, A Difficult Topic For You
sponsor, Lewis Raynes
First Place
The Only Topic
Every Morning I get up and the very first thing I do,
Is switch on the Teli, to find out the latest Hullabaloo.
Well it might be Carl, Sam or Kochy/Kochie on 7, 9, SBS or the ABC.
They won`t be talking about murder, riots or some ship in a storm out to sea.
You guessed it, it’s the Corona virus their on about and how much damage it has done.
The effect upon our economy, all the latest fatalities who have unfortunately succumbed, the stats of infected ones.
I`ve heard it all before, for months and months, on they go,
But I need to hear it again and again, even though it makes my spirit low.
We have mostly forgotten all the millions in refugee camps, around the place.
The starving, abused and mistreated who daily, have the same old issues to face.
We worry about the mental effects this is having on the people of our Land.
When we should be thanking God above for our fortune rare and Grand.
There is still a heap of freedom, plenty of food for us to buy.
Money from the government and civil servants who still care enough to try.
This is not a time of sorrow but a time to come awake.
To see what we are made of and give the crud a shake.
This world has always seen tragedy, wars, famine, disasters and pain
but it also has beauty, warmth , love, mateship and life giving rain.
So buck up ol chaps and put a grin above your chin
Not everybody loses and not everyone will win.
But we can all make our choices to either cry, grizzle or complain
Or to rejoice while the breaths still in us and to keep ourselves sane.
The virus isn’t here to deny us, rather it is another sort of test,
And like every challenge in history before, we will beat it just like we did the rest.
“My kingdom for a topic!”
Said the poet to the pad.
Forgive me, William Shakespeare,
I was desperate (just a tad).
Most often, there are subjects
Lining up inside my head,
But once in every while
There’s just emptiness instead.
The obvious solution
(Which I’ve obviously chosen)
Is to write of my dilemma
(Which you’ve noticed, I’m supposin’).
Topic of Conversation (Heroic Couplet)
Say what you want about the man in black
You think he cares about that, he got stacks.
Akron Ohio was his home sweet home
LeBron is the man dunking on your dome.
Was once called the chosen one in Cleveland
People was now upset he was leavin
Let to be united in Miami,
Bosh and Wade said to him, whats up homie.
He has fought the critics and the people
now this mountain is ever so steep though.
Now he has help he can really count on,
while I now scream, go LeBron go LeBron.
Scoring forty eight on Detroit was great
this night was something not to recreate.
This man was even once called overrated,
this nonsense made me feel so much hatred.
He still is one of the best in the league,
look at his stats and you can clearly see.
I bet you LeBron wins a ring this year.
When he does, Dan Gilbert will shed a tear.
This is the age of my discontent
when past regrets stench the nights,
as seasons leap in haste with my wired despair
where autumn trees crackle with pride
and chilled sensibilities...
how old can I get?
Life is now but a fleeting wisp of isolation
for one dumping life's passion
through human warmth, love's nobility;
that all the rubbish filth I carry
negates a caress of lost kinship, while moon-glow
awaits eventide's song without me.
I hear treetops of maples chant
to their boughs, wondering how
time’s compass has much to swoon about,
reeling igniting fireflies for a thrill, a light dance ...
so here I am to clear this rotting litter ,
afraid of growing old alone by myself
in a trash of regrets.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Originally Written 7.17.2016
Resubmitted 11.18.2017 for Russel Sivey
Contest: Choose A Topic: A, B, C or D
I think I need surgery,
Can I take out my heart?
Cupid is at it again,
The diaper wearing brat.
Love is bitter-sweet,
Why can’t I just have candy sweets?
Maybe Man wasn't created to be alone
God’s plan perhaps.
Drowning in my schizophrenic abyss,
I wonder if I would see bliss.
Maybe it’s me being randy,
Why can’t I have candy?
Despite things being rowdy.
Born without mating instincts,
My congenital disease,
Emotionally indistinct
In high degrees.
Juke on repeat,
The feelings play each time,
I don’t send text thinking
she would reply,
I am wasting emotions,
It's getting pointless,
My heart is turning sour,
And my feelings, voiceless.
October 10, 2017. Topic 'A' Love and Romance.
Searching for a topic for my next limerick post
Should it be romantic, controversial or a toast
To some movie hero
Like Robert De Niro
Maybe an exposé 'bout a famous Mickey Mouse
leave me a message on a topic
and will do one 4 you x
Inspire just one
For that my friend, as they say
Topic of the day
The dreaded Cancer, seems to me,
gets much too much publicity.
In restaurants, both fast and fine,
at parties up and down the line,
in hurried conversations at
the place I buy food for my cat,
the barber or the hairdressers,
wherever gather hims and hers,
the Cancer Chat is all the rage.
Why, one can hardly turn a page
of any monthly, weekly, daily,
but there is “Cancer” hearty-haley
written or advertised about
as if its fame must be spread out
to every cranny dark or light.
You’d think Cancer was boon not blight.
And clearly there is some obsession
within the medical profession
for keeping Cancer at the core
of physiological lore.
They pet- or ct-scan every inch
if we complain of ache or pinch.
Mention a pain, from toe to eye?
They’ll send you for an MRI.
Amounts of money much too great
are spent, as if to celebrate
the lure of Cancer’s beck and call—
I’m sick and tired of it all.
But please...don’t tell another soul
I’m sick and tired. Just say “he’s whole”
if they should question, give that answer
or I’ll be suspected of having Cancer!
SUNFLOWER BEE
She’s illuminated in a garden of sunflowers.
The sun sways, with her charming momentum.
He loves to see her far off, like a twinkling star,
Tracing each beguiling movement, with his eyes.
The homogeneous field takes on a honey scent,
To which this buzzing bee, vaingloriously drifts.
She waves like the wind, rustling summer leaves,
And he imagines the warmth of her sunny hair.
A sudden rainstorm lifts her laugh into the heavens,
As she dances with outstretched tongue and arms,
And he runs to her side, catching her up, elated,
At the fit of her sodden dress, against his upturned heart.
She slides back down the rainbow of her mind.
Her honeybee hits one knee “Will you be mine?”
A diamond glints under the love-soaked skies.
She holds out her fingers like the queen of the hive.
“I do! I do! i do!” she screeches excitedly.
The sunflowers beam over her shoulder,
Admiring the heart-shaped piece of carbon glass,
The perfect cut for this lass, familial florid-niece.
Applause, as the sun’s rays quicken in serendipitous flush,
And two pairs of butterfly lips engage Eden’s paradise.
11/13/2017
Choose A Topic Contest: Love and Romance
Unrhyming Couplets
TOPIC: HOSPITAL OF TOUGHT
THEME: THE HOSPITAL OF THOUGHT NEEDS ELITE THOUGHT
HOSPITAL OF TOUGHT
But.....formally I need to talk,
nay today nor yesterday the tongues walk,
yet no one to listen to our Dearing voice,
instead, the tonic of suffering yet we drink by force.
Another day, the ball is rolling,
the right spot we are hoping,
Nothing again if not the next generation,
our scared moment won't have been in coercion.
Lots laughs, light light!
Nothing to cub, the problem is not slight,
but we ourselves living a life of hopes ??,
When we don't figure out the hopes.
Sick Nigeria,
needs an elite area
the doctor chosen by the people,
Shall upright be not a pupil but a pupil.
Alas! The empty chair,
needs someone who care(s)
not about himself but,
the entire hospital of thought.
If three they are or four,
Let carry the hospital and sick patients out of falls,
Nothing again if not for the next generation
Our scared moment won't have been in coercion
©?pukka
#fecund_writer
December 1st 2017
Best friend.
Car drive.
Mental illness.
Love subside.
First kiss.
First touch.
First love.
First f**k.
Ripped clothes.
Bruises blue.
I’m sorrys
And I Love Yous.
All fights
Fire and ice.
Stubborn love
No patience can suffice.
Dirty secrets.
Broken past.
S***ty lies
Damaged everlast.
Fake promises
Blaming games
Complications
Open veins.
Soulmate.
Other half.
Twin flames.
What a laugh.
Broken heart.
Anger rage
One last bruise
Then You Left The Stage.