Best Truly Poems
Sixteen years old and in a world of her own
Confined to life lived in a wheelchair
Ever since birth, doctors don’t know what went wrong
But, it was like no one was at home in there
One summer vacation with the other kids in tow
The family visited a Kentucky horse stable
They left her alone in a sunny grass meadow
While off riding with the children who were able
While sitting alone in a catatonic state
Staring out somewhere in space
A gelding that was grazing, Mr. Truly Amazing
Came up and licked her on the face
The family returned to a shocking surprise
Seeing the wheelchair left unoccupied
They looked all around, then couldn’t believe their eyes
When they saw her standing with a horse by her side
She was petting his nose, feeding him an apple
And seemed to be whispering something
They were frozen in their tracks not believing the fact
That their Jenny was no longer a nothing
The mother walked up, in a delicate manner
Not wanting to interrupt this miracle’s course
When Jenny turned to her and in a shallow voice
Whispered, “Look, Mommy, I have a horse”
Where is my love
Where could she be
Somewhere out there my poor heart seeks
On some lonely street as I pass by a crowd
I thought I might have heard her speak
Is it you I need to know
Telling eyes would surely show
A voice behind your smile
Would lift my heart up to the sky
But a chill comes over me
When you kissed the man I'll never be
Now my back's against a wall
Alone wondering who should I call
Where is my love
Where could she be
Somewhere out there my aching heart seeks
I look to a star
Wherever you are
I hope this message gets to you
I stand here waiting
Anticipating...
I'll be searching every place to find
My true love till the end of time
To truly love myself- this I resolve
To guard with zeal my tenderness of heart
Of every sin and doubt myself absolve
And fortify and strengthen every part
To cherish and accept the inner me
To know and relish every single dream
The woman that I am, to set her free
To put aside each hindrance to love’s theme
I do resolve to be my dearest friend
To celebrate the wonders that I own
To spend time in my world and not pretend
To shine around the goodness I’ve been shown
A short time have I left to truly shine
And thus I vow to make my living fine
Oh, That Earth Wouldst So Truly Honor Thee
Dedicated To-
"The Great Unknown, Unsung Poets of the
- Past, Present And Future"
Oh, that earth wouldst so truly honor thee
You write poetic verse with such deep glee
As in glory-fruits reaped from your ink tree
Birth gentle winds blowing through land and sea.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Inked pools born from candor and purest heart
Offerings of whispers that truth imparts
Defeating the dark which sets us apart
To gift more, fill up love's bountiful cart.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Within thy soul and even thy sadness
Counter with blessed hope this world's madness
Shine with rhyming words, bringing on gladness
Yet ignore world's inglorious fadness.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
And through thy darkest sorrows gift anew
Heroic words that deepest dark breaks through
Gifts empathy, care many are thus due
For truth, darkness oft turns sky weeping blue.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Oh, that earth wouldst so truly honor thee
You write poetic verse with such deep glee
As in glory-fruits reaped from your ink tree
Birth gentle winds blowing through land and sea.
Robert J. Lindley, 9-22-2020
Rhyme,
( A Look At A Sad Reality, Those Worthy But Not Rewarded )
The Strength of Truly Gentle Men
Who wouldst decry such chivalry
deny the outspread cloak, the proffered hand,
plod through puddled mud, drag silken train,
in smug reproach of such a gentle man.
Hast all the glow been scrubbed from humankind
till every gesture – weighed - is found to lack
the power to deflect cold sightless eyes
from barren search o’erlooking all but self.
Should we, in vain reproach withdraw the cloak,
splash also in the muddled, mindless muck
that passes as the futures promised hope -
wash - Pilate-like - the stain from outstretched hands
Lest the cloak be tainted by history’s tarnished brush
and denied the strength of truly gentle men.
John G. Lawless
11/30/2014
(this write is inspired by the real story of a homeless man who found a student's
bag with two thousand nine hundred dollars cash in it. the student was bringing it to
pay his tuition fees. without hesitation the homeless man used the information in the
bag to return the student his belongings.)
void
loyd,
he’s a bum
smells of rum.
covered in stink
no kitchen sink
he got nothing
he’s recovering
come see
it’s free.
void
loyd,
he’s a bum
smells of rum.
scum!, right?,
no light?
hey buddy can you spare a dime?
face it, wouldn’t give him the time.
finds a sack
gives it back
twenty-nine hundred in cash
didn’t keep it but isn’t he trash?
void
loyd,
he’s a bum
smells of rum.
what did the student think
his fingers covered in ink
pockets his money
calls his honey
tells her loudly
proclaims proudly
‘can’t judge a cover by its book,
listen to me here’s the hook.
school smart or street smart
it comes down to the heart.
that man lives in a ditch
but sweetie he is rich.
you have to take a second look
never judge a cover by its book.’
void
loyd,
he’s a bum
smells of rum.
8~29~2014
Sponsor: gautami phookan
Contest Name: Sketch a Character
We were four tough teens and one day at school we were dared
To spend a night in Hangman's Woods to prove we weren't scared,
We'd set up camp for the night then heard loud wailing and a moan
Sheer blind terror overcame us when we realised we weren't alone,
We ran as fast as our legs could carry us and we didn't look back
And made it to the woods entrance and there stood by an old shack,
Were our three so called school friends who'd set us up for the dare
They were laughing and pointing at us and all we could do was glare.
Written on the 25th October 2020
8 lines Of Spooky Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin.
To be where you are
whatever you do... is to
be truly alive
April 24, 2018
haiku Human Nature Contest
By Mick Talbot
N/A
Oft I Wonder Can This Fairy-Tale Truly Be True
In my heart of hearts your red rose yet bleeds
longings in delicate touch, with urgent needs
How can I refuse your dance in our night dreams
goddess of such grace and beauty supreme
Your soothing voice waking moon's brighter glow
ignites desire's fires, lets our passions flow
My enchantress, my angel of sweet release
deliverer of love's gold and heartfelt peace
Giver of hope, along with dawn's majestic rays
bringing in paradise wherein our love plays.
With haste I beg for each night's early fall
as you descend into our palace waiting halls
Oft I wonder can this fairy-tale truly be true
am I alive, living and loving each night with you?
Oft I wonder can this fairy-tale truly be true
am I alive, living and loving each night with you?
In my heart of hearts your red rose yet bleeds
longings in delicate touch, with urgent needs
How can I refuse your dance in our night dreams
goddess of such grace and beauty supreme?
My angel, tell me why you first went away
broke my heart turned this old world darker grey
Oft I wonder can this fairy-tale truly be true
am I alive, living and loving each night with you?
Am I alive, living and loving each night with you?
Am I alive, living and loving each night with you?
Robert J. Lindley, 8-17-2017
The Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though that dullard Dwight D. sat in the Executive Chair
And his frumpy wife Mamie had really bad hair
Matching those dowdy, plain dresses she'd wear ...
While husbands toiled in obscurity for large corporations
The "Ugly Americans," reviled by most other nations
Their stay-at-home wives feeling mostly frustration
Downing "happing pills" daily instead of real medication
Their sons sporting letter sweaters, obedient jocks,
Their daughters in plaid skirts and white bobby socks
Penny loafers and saddle shoes were in for ten years
Along with white levis and coca-cola -- never rum, never beer
Yet how about Krushchev's dust-ups with Tricky Dick Nixon
What about Sputnik 1 and the panic it put us in
And remember George Wallace and old Lester Maddux
Hosing down *******, echoes of Crispus Attucks ...
The rise of brutal pro football threatened apple pie and baseball
Heralding the next decade's premiere spectator sport, i.e., 'spaceball'
Joe McCarthy dug up the dirt of a "red scare's" nitty gritty
In the work of the House un-American Activities Committee
Then there was Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus
Championing the yearning for justice in so many of us
And the music, the music, so outrageously wild
Chuck Berry, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper -- that overgrown child
Yes, the Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though we shan't heed the call of those who'd return us to there
A Dedication To He That This Old Poet Truly Admires
Hardened was his sad heart when a mere lad-
Never a kind word, all seemed very bad-
Born a true and strong athlete to behold
Into slavery and dark he was sold,
Emerged an honest man of mighty girth
A living Samson, a man of true worth.
As gentle friend one could truly thank God
Woe to those that felt his wrath or his rod!
Such great prowess one should never deny.
Always willing to give others fair try.
Stone-hard product of American shores
With hand axe, a slayer of savage boars
A majestic hunter of no small fame
Savage man or beast he could and did tame,
A hero returning from the great War
Proof as was seen, his many battle scars.
Never had he ever failed to show might
victor in every hand to hand fight!
Such great prowess one should never deny.
Always willing to give others fair try.
Never one to fear world's darkest powers-
A hard worker, no lover of idle hours-
Racing to do that which others so fear
Holding mother and siblings very dear,
Lover of horses, cats and faithful dogs
A Paul Bunyan one stroke, splitting huge logs.
Rock steady and never once defeated
punishing those who had his friends cheated!
Such great prowess one should never deny.
Always willing to give others fair try.
Rewarded to live to a ripe old age-
Some called hero, others a wise old sage-
Myself, I just loved him as my best friend
True chap that is faithful until the end,
Bright red roses adorn his earthen bed
none daring to walk paths he had once tread.
His life and memory are treasured gold
kind of brave man, I long to be when old!
Such great prowess one should never deny.
Always willing to give others fair try.
Robert J. Lindley,
July 11th, 1993
Rhyme, (Dedication poem)
Note- Presented as was originally composed, no edits to the verses(body of the work).
I was tempted but then I thought may be best to leave as was felt
and written the first go....
Added the word - "Old" - , to the Title, as seemed fitting since that describes the current state of the author
Blonde hair, Blue eyes
such hips, they dont lie
The way you talk, the little things you do
Make me fall harder, if only you knew
We have been close before but you moved away
But such great news telling me your back and ready to stay
But things between us kind of grew
I still care about you, If you truly knew
I'd be yours, but within reason
Through all the bad times, the rough seasons
You had me at hello, left me at goodbye
Your back for a reason but that reason I dont know why
God may of done this with a purpose of love
He truly works magic in heaven above
You still are my number one girl
Out of all the other millions in this world
Your still the one that takes my breathe
Better than all, there is no test
I think in time, we will both realize what needs to be done
So that in the end of time, we will be together as one
Soul passion is not a simple task.
This is grasped as a soulful bask,
To reserve one's sound mind and soul,
To your loved ones, but not a hack.
They set down those blessed vows as rule,
In a precise scheme, that's the goal,
Since the pen-pusher by now knew,
I don't dismiss the budding role.
Spot our bloodline evolved and grew,
When our souls stand, sorely renew,
Our feelings may become muddled,
With the one, we esteem for true.
Life's chore complications crumbled,
May seldom grasp its rate stumbled,
And shepherd a partner or spouse,
Too wide, gloom, and bleak shaft fumbled.
Although, we relinquish word swears,
To be prized, esteemed with obeys,
to discard each other as well,
our arduous traipse continues.
Our sound bodies are shaped well,
that's why many of us can tell,
In the sort of low dust and grime,
Into the scum of smeared lust, dull.
So, within, there is creed sublime,
Stumbles is near the end of time,
It discloses straight to our thoughts,
And unholy erects in slime.
Attempting to maintain our wrought,
Is challenging without a brought,
One should reach out to the other,
And squabbles should be held as naught.
Such misgivings may be utter,
Despite this, your tongue is tender,
Those who have shown anxiety,
have a rough time seemly hover.
Ne'er deem without proof utterly,
Or to be selfish and greedy,
Doubt is a marked first point of this,
We judge that evil eats, truly.
Don't put your faith in people's glitz,
Since he, too, is made of brain blitz,
Believe in God with all your heart,
He'll view through, stow you on the ritz.
Written: May 11, 2022
Your smiles-gone, from past setbacks
Use my candle and melt my wax
To fill the holes in all your cracks
Your hopes of dim, Re; loss of trust
Use my polish of magic trust
To blanket your hardship's- layered crust
Your closing eyes of tears- In weep
Use my love to soak in deep...
Into your heart, for you to keep
Your hope for life and world of dreams
Use my lotions, potions; happy creams
My moisturizer's to mend your seams
Your open wounds of scar, you bare
Use my blood of blue I share
My darling, for it is you...for most, I care
Your sadness breaks my heart to bleed
Use my oil and mill my seed
My healing powers are all you need'
Ref. Line from Maria Williams
*Use my oils and mill my seed
My healing powers are all you need'
Poetic Lines From Maria Williams Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
2/15/202
for you I beat a skip and I skip a beat,
for you I do it endlessly it isnt a simple feat,
for you I melt when in love and i beat in pain,
for you I beat in sport, but never in vain,
for you I sink in betrayal and float in victory,
for you I fly on first kisses, and race in misery,
for you I hold secrets,and pour out song,
for you I flutter and smoulder when that someone comes along,
For you I suffer in silence and bleed in violence,
For you I can be given as a gift of deliverance,
for you I can live on a sleeve, or hide behind a bulletproof vest,
for you I can hammer in activity, I can tick on in rest,
for you I am the beat to the song of a mothers breath,
I live for all you do and stop only in death,
i work endlessly and ask for just one thing,
live your life in away that makes another heart sing.
Make the most for what you do,till death do us part, for you I am..
with love,
your heart.