Best Try Out Poems
SUMMER SUNSHINE - "Sonnetina Rispetto"
Thank you Lord for this golden day,
This sweet sunshine that smiles my way,
This warm wind wafting through the grass,
That makes my heart dance in delight;
Thank you Lord for this summer light,
That bids bulrushes burn as brass;
Thank you Lord for this golden day,
This sweet sunshine that smiles my way;
Thank you Lord for these birds that sing
A lovely welcome this morning,
This warm wind wafting through the grass,
That bids bulrushes burn as brass;
Thank you Lord for this golden day,
This sweet sunshine that smiles my way.
----------------------------
14th May, 2016 (posted on 15th May)
{Dedicated to Anne-Lise - the Sunshine Smile of Poetry soup and one of my first friends here}
{Thank you Dorian for your lovely poetry form}
{Thank you Peter Duggan - your poem "How wonderful it is" inspired me to try out this new form}
(The "Sonnetina Rispetto" is a new poetry form
created by Dorian Petersen Potter
on September 8,2009.
This form has 14 lines with 8 syllables each.
It can be written in 3 quatrain stanzas and a couplet or
with an Octave(8) and a Sestet(6) lines.
The rhyme scheme is as follows: A1,A2,B1,c,c,B2,A1,A2,d,d,B1,B2,A1,A2.
The capitals A1,A2,B1 and B2...stands for the refrain lines in the poem.
Any subject)
(This is my first poem that won POTD and I was so touched. I felt honoured. This will always be a special one for me)
Everything around me is still
The soft lights ward off the cold
My worried heart is unsettled
Every minute makes me old
Time seems to drag on and on
Not sure I can take much more
I’m waiting for my angel
to walk in through that door
There is nothing to do but wait,
so I wonder about her day
but what’s taking her so long?
Did she somehow lose her way?
I think about my visit
My first time to see her place
In my glimpse into her life,
a weariness I can trace
She flew away to this isle
to try out her angel wings,
and in following her dreams
she untied the home spun strings
“Our children are not our own.”
Oh, great Gibran*, can’t you see?
My precious 18 year old,
Will always belong to me!
Oh yes, she may live elsewhere
Have a family of her own,
but she’s my little baby
and in my eyes she hasn't grown
I wait and wait and wait
Please, God, let her be alright!
I look out of the window
at the blackness of the night
I think of all those mothers
who wait for their children dear,
whose tired and aching arms
long to hold their loved ones near
The wait for them is fruitless
Its end is a tragic woe,
for death holds back their loved ones
The "Wait of Pain" will not go
My heart shares in their sorrow
My soul weeps for their plight
For though my daughter is late
She’ll be coming home tonight!
For Waiting Contest by James Rogers
September 9, 2015
*Khalil Gibran was a Lebanese-American artist, poet, and writer of the New York Pen League. There recent move, The Prophet, was about him.
There's the mirror we look at
to pick at spots,
The mirror we dress by,
to see the lot,
The one to cream and
shade the eyes,
The one to try out
feigned surprise,
The one that travels
and shows fatigue,
(Your eyes have circles,
your teeth are green.)
But the truest vision
of ups and downs,
Of sideways bulges
and hairdo clowns
Is the one that hits you
with dismay,
The shop front window
on a sunny day!
To try out a new poem form.
To give more than to receive.
To make calls to the lonely.
To envision peace, not unrest.
To forgive and to forget.
To joyfully encourage others.
To take a needed news vacation.
To really be attentive with my pet.
To honor and embrace my past.
To welcome the future with joy.
To enjoy all my earthly days fully.
To welcome and embrace any and all tests.
To one day, go in peace, to my final rest!
9/4/2024
Poem 2
@ Panagiota Romios
Overcome by a wave of curiosity
I decided to try out seriosity
For which I'd no particular precocity
'Twas an ill-fated breeze of impetuosity
With visions absurd of grandiosity
I'd portray Julius Caesar with proper pomposity
Though, to be sure, my toga's fit was an atrocity
Not to mention my Latin dialogue's tortuosity
Yet utterly convinced of my latent geniosity
I spoke my lines with preternatural verbosity
Hark! Were those boos of unaccustomed ferocity?
~ To the nearest Exit, tomato-smeared, at hypervelocity...
As a girl in my teen I did stray
to the circus I did run away
I wanted to fly
high in the sky
But, Mother wanted me to dance ballet!
Yes Debbie-Do flew upon a trapeze
in sequined tights with a rod 'tween her knees
her hair in a tail
her cleavage unveiled
I was the toast of the town if you please!
As I preened on the platform up high
and powdered my two hands and my thighs
one fine reporter
said I really aughta
Try out for the circus in Shanghai.
Let's go to Barb's Place
Have something to eat
Her perogies and cabbage rolls
Are really hard to beat
If that's not enough
You should try out her ribs
Gooey and delicious
You better bring a bib
When it comes to cooking
Barb's food is like art
She prepares every morsel
With love from the start
Welcome to Poetry Soup Barb, what better person to contribute to the soup than a Chef Extrodinare. I am sure you will add your own special flavours.
“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” ~ Delia Owens
When I was born, I clung to my mother,
A little light green being,
God made me so unlike any other,
I flap flutter unmoving,
Thousands of my brothers and sisters live
With me and my mom, all green,
Dancing and swaying with the breeze active,
We rustle, bustle umpteen,
During Autumn, my colour becomes red,
And I know my end is near,
Away from mom's clasp, I will soon be dead,
There's only one thing to cheer,
Now I can go where the wind wishes me,
I will try out my new wings,
All my life passed by, content on a tree,
Now I can explore few things,
Happy, I soar, away from my mom's shade,
Journeying on a new quest,
Fly and glide over the grass and the glade,
Floating, I find final rest.
2nd January 2023
From the time I joined the site
Really lovely poets have helped me
I have learned so many new forms
Even tried writing a few haiku poems
Never ever dreamed I’d be a writer
Doubted people would like my style
So many different forms to try out
How much joy writing has given me
I’ve even met some other soup poets
Poetry soup has changed my life!
And I spread my wings
To new beginnings
Butterfly, I flit,
Am not gonna quit,
Flying up above,
Moving on with love,
Rising 'bove the stars,
Reaching toward Mars,
To new horizon,
My flight is risen,
And I spread my wings,
My heart leaps and sings,
Crossing boundaries,
New prospects I tease,
Far future's now mine,
In success, I shine,
What scope I have got,
To try out my lot,
So here's to my wings,
And carefree heartstrings.
04/13/19
Thanks to my friend, Meenu, for the first two lines:)
Luke always likes
To try out something new
And today he decided
That he would drink shampoo
Of course it made him feel quite sick
But that’s the least of all his troubles
Because now every time he opens his mouth
Out float a million bubbles
And bubbles come from his nose
And bubbles come from his ears
And now every time he cries
He cries bubbles instead of tears
I don’t think he will again
Put shampoo in his tum
Especially now that bubbles
Are coming from his bum
Though I suppose there is a bright side
He’s sure to impress his friends
When they see that Luke
Can blow bubbles from both ends.
On Monday I saw you
On Tuesday I knew
That when Wednesday came round
I would be in love with you
On Thursday I found you
Naked in my bath
When I dropped my trousers
My , How you did laugh.
On Friday I decided
A willy extension I need
I've booked the operation
Oh how I hope it succeeds
On Saturday we try out
my new foot long tool
People passing heard you cry out
I thought that was cool.
On Sunday I'm shattered
I've been such a big hit
but now you are demanding
I send you into orbit.
In January its freezing
So we stay in bed
In February I'm wheezing
From all you offered .
In March I am thinking
Of visiting the doctor again
But you promise Viagra
Will help ease my pain.
In April I realise
What a fool I have been
My willy became a throne
and you were my queen.
In May you are dancing
Around my rigid pole
In June you are romancing
and I must play your fantasy role.
In July I need a holiday
My body needs rest
but you won't keep your hands still
Until I meet your request.
In August I'm planning
A week on my own
You won't give me any time for eating
and I'm all skin and bone .
In September my member
Becomes my flexible friend
but the relief is so brief
Because your skill has no end .
In October I'm dreaming
Of chopping it off
but you pretend you're the doctor
and I am to cough.
In November I'm flagging
I can't take much more
but I live with a nympho shopaholic
and I am the store .
In December my member
In plastic is cast
I'll wrap it for you at Christmas
and I can have some peace at last.
Here on poetrysoup, the newest poem,
pops up on-screen
like the latest off-shoot, or newborn babe
or like a newest floral bud,
in the orchards of poetry.
Or like a fresh wave of words
crashing and cresting upon the turf
For all and sundry to view, enjoy and surf!
Or ha ha, even like linguistic kernels
that pop like popcorn
in the crockery of poetrysoup
with different flavors to choose from,
to reveal what's been cooking in the minds.
Some indeed spiced-up,
some spicy
some acidic or buttery
all of 'em', more or less with melody.
Or the newest poetry is
to put it more exquisitely,
is a fragrant flower just bloomed
in the bedecked bowers of poetry
Or to say, each latest poem pops on screen
Like pop goes the weasel
For poems pop up like meerkats
but on the lookout for friends instead of foes.
Ah, and then they might wait
for the honey and jam of comments
and perhaps even the bitter gourd of criticism,
for healthy constructive criticism
is like any bitter pill vital to health.
You're lucky if the doctors of poetry
refrain from prescribing chits
of bitter pills to swallow,
Or opted for sugar-coated ones
for which you heave a sigh of relief
you didn't receive, blunt sharp critique!
As I prefer sugar coated pills in all matters.
Yet if they do administer the wrong dose
out of sheer bias and prejudice,
you can always give them a taste of their own medicine,
if you wish to be vengeful and impudent
Or you can forgo, overlook and be lenient
For my poetry is meant to be tasteful
and gentleness is nice.
Harshly insensitive reviews can leave
a sour after taste in the mouth.
As I'm habituated to taking sugar coated pills.
A biased person could never appreciate my poetry.
Let's taste and try out all the varied variety of curries and broths of muse out here...
Let's all appreciate the different flavours that simmer in the poetry soup melting pot,
many cooking up delectable foods for thought...
I try
My very best
To be
Being
Is the purpose
Of life
Living
Only happens
Today
Daylight
Or in the dark
Live free
Freedom
Comes from knowing
Yourself
Self love
Is the first step
Not pride
Prideful
Selfish people
Are sad
Sadness
Can eat them up
Inside
In ways
I can't describe
Fully
Filling
Their empty hearts
With gloom
Gloomy
Shadows make them
Lonely
Alone
In the darkness
They cry
Crying
They truly crave
The light
Lightning
Flashes accross
The sky
Skyward
Their thoughts now flow
Humbled
Try out my Mussetle Train. Directions are on my previous poem.
Let's see if we can turn this into a freight train, Toot! Toot!
Please let me know if you try one out, I would love to see what
you come up with. It is fun to see where the train ends up after
leaving the station.
Sure it comes with shoveling,salting,sanding,scraping,snow plowing and snow blowing
It also comes with so much more beauty that's well worth knowing
Snow blockades for snowball fights
Playing king of the mountain on a blanket of white
Explore tunnels into snow made forts
There's snow angels in shapes and sizes of all sorts
Take a break for tasty marshmallows in hot cocoa
Hike back up to the top of the sledding hill and go
Have fun on tubes,saucers,sleds and skis
Watch out below for beautiful snow covered trees
Snowboarding can give you such an adrenaline rush
Enjoy watching the sled dogs mush
Build some snow sculptures or a simple snowman
Take a ride and enjoy snowmobiling,ice fishing or to the crazy outhouse races because you can
Take time to catch snowflakes on your tounge
No matter your age it makes you feel young
Try out some snowshoeing or perhaps a kabogum run
Ice skating and ice hockey can also be fun
Hunters appreciate snow for tracking their deer
For the U.P winter is a wonderful time of the year
Tell stories sitting cozy with loved ones around a fire
There's so much about winter in the U.P I desire
This is only a small list of what makes winter in the U.P so super
It has so much more to offer, yah der ay I'm proud to be a yooper
Slip on a wet suit and surf the waves of Lake Superior
Being the largest fresh water lake in the world she isn't known for being inferior
Jump in a hot suana to get out of the cold
So many adventures and mysteries in the U.P to unfold
End your chilly day with a hot pasty, bowl of chili and a hot bath
When you wake up tomorrow you will probably have to shovel a new path
The U.P in winter is worth visiting, it's a beautiful sight
The U.P in winter is a beautiful winter wonderland delight