Best Trophies Poems
Most of my life I’ve tried to hide scars because they were ugly reminders of things I didn’t want to think about. And a lot of those scars were invisible to the naked eye. A human couldn’t see these are scars, similar to deep open wounds within me. I learned they are not damaged eye sores but trophies for the trials and tribulations I have overcome thus far. Your scars can be the medals you attain, having given yourself the opportunity to lean deep into your faith. We'll learn we have been healed and forgiven for any wrong we did, any sins we committed. Reminders, we were already forgiven. Those scars are something to remember when we feel like quitting a reminder for when we are too weak to want to feel. We need to remember that someone already died for the terrible things we ruminate on that have already been crucified and healed . Try not to focus on how deep the wound is, keep in mind his are for eternity, that he endured for believers in his word. How can we complain when someone was murdered for you and me. To be able to live a life of love and abundance sin free. I challenge you to use your scars as badges of honor for the rest of your breaths eternity
No, are not in any contest found.
It is your comments to my poetry,
that to my heart are bound.
No one comment is better than
another.
For to me, when you comment,
you are automatically my sister
or my brother!
I see great poets here, lying dead
with sixty reads.
Does it take that long to comment
and do a good deed?
What's the big hurry here?
Poets like having comments and
you can't write one comment of
good cheer?
A contest is definitely not for me.
I prefer friends who comment~
You are the best, loving trophies.
I cannot tell you how much it jump
starts my day!
It makes me so thankful, I shout,
with joy, hurray!
So, thank you, you trophies of my
heart!
Your names are all posted, and in
my soul, glowingly written and will
never depart.
September 15, 2020
Noon PST
Let your tears of joy fall!
They are a poet's soul's rushing waterfall.
If a great poet, you feel more more than most.
Your desire for mediocre poetry is not your thirst.
Of fearless, true,reality in poetry is your infinite search!
You write for the sheer love you have for your artistry,
Realizing completion~you have no need for an invisible trophy!
5-1-2021
Halfway through a laugh
and I get flashbacks
of my black past
that always haunts me
I see it everywhere
even on me
I’m all full of scars
my psyche and body
they’re everywhere
they became too hard
to cover
scars from a number
of wars and battles
cheaters and backstabbers
But today
I look at those scars differently
I see the beauty in them
I’m not the victim anymore
they’re no longer scars to me
they’re defensive wounds
from my helpless victims
they’re trophies
trophies I collected
from every cancer I beat
every fake person I killed
every bad memory I choked
every situation I pissed on
they bring a smile to my face
-Elis Artis
11/17/2015
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Virtual trophies (wife for I)...
offered, husbanded, and collected
when winning solitaire
Nothing beats that exaltant rush of adrenaline
watching the computer generated cards
automatically routed
to their respective suite (spot)
(after they get turned face value up)
generates countenance to evince a grin.
This heart felt diamond in the rough
gamboling ace of a man
learned to call a spade a spade
soon after joining the culture club.
Within an alternate universe
another Matthew Scott Harris
destiny manifested beckoned uber lyft,
his militant doppelganger
(created entirely of antimatter
since birth of universe)
decked out in camouflage fatigues,
dead set on collision course
to annihilate each other
if and/or when we inevitably meet.
No place exists for yours truly
to run and hide
especially hermetically sealing
(while waxing poetic) himself
with booking selfsame mortal
within a read (reed) out hideaway,
hence impossible mission
to ward off sealed fate
lest (markedly) both of us
(even if reaching out
to bridge reconciliation)
blown to smithereens
methinks I and mine nemesis
would be wiped out
(cue the Surfaris song titled wipe out)
as if Thanos snapped.
The aforementioned scenario
far more horrifying than
livingsocial within human zoo
where *****sapiens primates,
an aggregate of many
a cruel genealogical yahoo
outliers rowdy unlearned without xue,
an essential constituent
of the body electric kool aid acid test
smartass who spout colorful retorts
analogous to up the wazoo,
but much more explicit,
therefore audiological
viewer discretion advised
unless one feels confident
to cast a magic spell using voodoo
ideally invoking debilitating, horrifying,
lustrating newt trill eye zing
permanent state of danger
or threat accursed
trumpeting lout can never undo
especially when joker is wild
whereat apparatus tricked out
fastening pollexes courtesy thumbscrews
perchance re-evaluating my person
when crafting image
conveying torturous schlock
after ye did pleasantly review
other writings of mine that did skews
toward humanitarian connectedness
painstakingly minding my peas and queues
wracking my brain
regarding creativity to peruse.
Do not fear me, I am with you when you say good night
I will guide you, as I do now it's the end of the day
So, be calm. Gently walk through the fading light
Wrinkled skin and kyphosis, paralyze men with fright
when they see me hovering around, they start to pray
Do not fear me , I am with you when you say good night
The end is dignity, do not struggle with all your might
Do what's good, cleanse your mind; all the religions say
So, be calm. Gently walk through the fading light
I have seen you in great many races, this is not a fight
Cameras clicked and trophies held, you had your own way
Do it again, I am with you when you say good night
Life is short, endless duties, time is always tight
You lived a life of a genius, thats what people say
So, be calm. Gently walk through the fading light
As you wished, the horse-drawn carriage isn't white
Your fame is written on millions of petals, on your way
Do not fear now when it's time to say good night
So be calm. Gently walk through the fading light
there are stealth
sound waves which whisper
"all efforts are in vain"
misinterpreted parts
of a sore whole
are only vaguely seen
just a shape shifting action
figure fighting empty causes
in essence fighting self
determination
runs a treadmill to some
goal born in a caste
finding hope
is wedding a spouse
for an indefinite amount of time
reach for love
wave off hate
grope through ambivalence
take the junk mail survey
find a voice
minus hands, try to count
Night tail of the dark leave in light hues
unfolding the tar-mar black sky of the pitch.
When the light carries away the darkness.
Between us, night fades into the distance.
And the Sun glows bigger and brighter.
Measuring the ratio of time everywhere.
Emptying atmosphere thinner than air.
Wining trophies where moments gather.
In rhapsody on warm summer nights
The quiet moon embracing the sky.
Display a grand panorama of starry lights.
Collecting trophies as time goes by.
Heroic days with brighter tales of light
Jewelling the memories and splendor of night.
Don’t suppose the victory was yours alone
The laurels you wear proudly a solo affair,
For in you are the talents of your ancestors
Much teaching from others residing there
The encouragement of your loving peers
Urging applause you received along the way
Those who trained you and buoyed you up
Who set records you worked so hard to break
Be sure to thank them for support they gave
Who sponsored the events in which you excel
Remembering to see a victory as the culmination
Of all the times you didn’t do nearly so well.
Written November 9, 2022
Ever wonder what difference it might make
To relinquish a trophy for someone else's sake
Who needs a win in their life right then
When you have a history of getting the win?
Ever wonder what difference it might make
To give up what would be easy to take
To realize the other fellow needs to score
While you only crave one laurel more?
Ever wonder what difference it might make
To pass up that honor without being fake
By genuinely setting your own need aside
Helping someone else to crest the tide?
Ever wonder what difference it might make
To learn the value of being opaque?
While seeing another enjoy the limelight
You might gain for yourself a valuable insight.
“ Now this I know: The LORD gives victory to his anointed. He answers him from his heavenly sanctuary with the victorious power of his right hand.” Psa 20:6 NIV
We are His trophies of victory—
Saved by the blood of the Lamb;
Comforted and encouraged to persist,
as redemption lives out its program.
The mysteries of grace
Now unfold before our eyes.
The coronation of our King;
Our Lord ever willing to advise.
Other worlds beyond our universe,
Marvel at this solitary planet;
Christ’s sacrifice on the cross—
God’s saving grace our blanket.
For we are his trophies
From a world lost to evil.
Trophies of victory,
Brought back from the side of peril.
We are human trophies,
Not meant to sit on a shelf,
But be working in God’s vineyard,
For others and not for self.
The rewards are so precious—
More souls saved by grace;
To live in the kingdom
Of our Saviour face to face.
As trophies of victory—
Victors in our Lord,
We honour our Saviour;
Our victory to afford.
Without God’s amazing love
And the sacrifice of his Son,
We would not be victors;
forever evil would have won.
Copyright © 2011-2012 Maureen LeFanue
Champion of life,
trophies on the road
Accolades for someone else,
—one more thing to know
(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)
Gaiety kids bubbling laughter in scarlet delighT
Ladened with trophies of sparkling rusted coppeR
Observing the bounteous man who'd vanished long agO
Rivers of innocence flood the abandoned summer camP
Inside his heart only the old man knows the trutH
Onlooking little kids remind him of his grandson's origamI
Uplifting his blue spirits they leap at bouncing reveriE
Smiling as he hands them his lost boy's glorious trophieS
May 25, 2020
Double Double Words To Bubble Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Winner: Third Place
No reason to impress others....
They don't care a rip!
It is their trophy they want to win.
As if that was what was poetry was all about.
Simply to impress, and block all others out?
You tell me!
I am at a loss..........why not help other
poets, rather than you be so boss!
I don't want to run a contest~no, not me.
I can't see myself with such masterful talentry!
I know the competition games do flourish.
I'd rather help another poet-friend to grow and nourish.
A friend I'd prefer, by comments and mail.
Like two smiling bunnies under a shady tree.
In satisfaction,thumping their fluffy tails,
In happiness learning poetry not getting all the glory be!
11- 15 - 2020
Nine little trophies, all in a line
Polished, statuesque, and radiant
Reflecting the feats that I call mine
Standing together, a golden shrine
To the person I yearned to become
To the person I hoped to define
Confining myself is asinine
I am more than my accomplishments
Time to move on from the golden nine
----
May 10th, 2021
A Time for Nine Poetry Contest
Syllables counted with howmanysyllables.com