Best Unerring Poems
Crisp ...
You lay like solemn ashes
'Neath glass ... spotless, sacred
Dried to bright hues ...
The shades of her lips in chill autumn air
(Winter, whisp'ring soft)
Edges crimped ...
Like the hems of her pleated tartan skirt
You are the vestige, precious
Of a moment ...
A final moment of love, true
Sweaty, sweet passion
That found its confluence under a vault of fire
A canopy of crumbling crimson
Wafting, weaving a rustling woodland blanket
The bed for a callow curiosity
Confusing, carnal, but perfectly imperfect
Numberless months have yet ceded to the wind
(As tender as the moons they bind)
Since I rescued you from the hood of a sweatshirt
Still, your color is unerring
And your scent is ...
Her.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand no 780, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Select V Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge - December - Any Poem NA'd In November 2019" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart - Wishkobi Ode, Judge & Sponsor.
( This poem was written on November 14, 2019, and N/A'd on November 22, 2019 in the Scented Leaves Poetry Contest )
Categories:
unerring, imagery, lost love, memory,
Form:
Free verse
hanging from the foliage
in your hundreds
repainting the leaves
in bright shades
of black and orange
with your waterproof
gossamer wings
of four inch span
so fragile and
yet so strong
enabling you
to journey south
across america
from canada to mexico
breeding new generations
as you travel
thousands of miles
with unerring accuracy
to the exact place
of your birth
to breed
a new generation
that will initiate
the process for
the return journey
to the north
in due course
you are indeed
the monarch
of butterflies
Categories:
unerring, america, birth, butterfly, color,
Form:
Free verse
If tomorrow's sun should falter
and fail to light the morning sky;
if the stars their courses alter
and, erratic, collide and die;
if the moon, that fair pretender,
slips naked, aimless, through the night,
disrobed of all her splendor
and frigid from the lack of light;
still may my soul go on daring
and unafraid my footsteps fall
in the light that glows unerring
from the One who, wooing, calls;
for that love light burns undaunted
beamed from the heart of Heaven's Dove;
though by darkness I am taunted,
my soul, press onward in God's love.
Copyright, 1987
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
unerring, dark, god, light, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Absolutes
1
Darkness dominates
the earthly cycle at year’s end.
This is true
no matter how many fools
legislate otherwise.
2
Dogs have unerring internal clocks
and finite bladders.
Taken together,
these absolutes of nature
guarantee that I’ll witness
every dawn from November to March
regardless of my
preferences or exhortations.
I don’t have a problem with this,
although I’d much rather be relishing
the warmth of bed and wife.
I trade comfort for being part of
cold quiet pinking toward sunrise,
snow blowing horizontal,
rain sometimes gentle,
often thrown hard against the ground
heaped upon the poor dogs
answering the call
of another of nature’s absolutes:
when you gotta’ pee,
you gotta’ pee.
Categories:
unerring, dog, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Embers of Time
As our time dissolves to embers, we reflect on what we have wrought.
Will we even get to Heaven after all the craziness we have sought?
Will our children and theirs’ try to follow in our misbegotten ways?
Or did we help to steer them to a far better and unerring way?
Did we teach them to seek a far better way of life?
Or did we show them the material one, built with so much strife?
Did we teach them to be kind and gentle, yet in faith, to be strong and true?
Did we help them open their hearts to others, or tie them closed, as they view?
Did we show them how to mend a fence, or to trample on everyone else?
Did we lead them on a path to Jesus or steer them away, somewhere else?
We know: as we sow… so shall we reap… but, yet, God is always at hand.
Reach out with an open heart and soul, as before him we always stand.
No one is perfect, so in the end… simply bow before the Great I AM.
In his eyes we were always his, yes… His precious little lambs.
Categories:
unerring, faith, forgiveness, god, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
Said a Cod to a wise old Eel,
I would like to know how you feel?
Though people snack on dips,
Lots more eat fish and chips.
They say it has great meal appeal!
Said the Eel to the wise old Cod,
I find that unusually odd.
I've never had to worry,
As so many eat curry.
Very few are after my bod!
Just then a worldly old Squid,
Doing what Squids always did.
Went swimming slowly on by.
Said he "Me, they'll never fry"
"They'll only eat me jellied!"
Next came a Lobster and Blue Crab.
Followed by a Flounder and Dab.
They agreed with the old Cod,
A fish with a succulent 'bod'
Always ends up on a slab!
Then a Shrimp, Whelk and a Mussel.
All went by in a hustle.
Then the Winkle with the Clam,
Who said "I'd better scram!"
"Cos I give chowder its muscle!
Following next came the Herring,
In a disguise he was wearing.
For he was truly afraid,
That the batter being made,
Was for him. His instinct unerring!
Then both a large and small-mouthed Bass,
And a lone, solitary Wrasse.
Not to forget the Scallop,
Going by at a gallop.
All getting away en masse!
Next Mackerel, Haddock and Plaice.
Not one with a smile on its face.
The handsome Halibut too,
Was looking glum and blue,
Which went as well for the Dace!
Now to all fish its crystal clear.
Most of them have plenty to fear.
Be they skinned, fried and eaten
With bread - White, Brown or Wheaten,
Or soaked and battered in beer!
Rhymer. December 6th, 2016.
Categories:
unerring, allusion, fantasy, nonsense,
Form:
Rhyme
so where is it now,
that burst of loud birdsong
so happy and cheerful, once
contained in your small breast?
where is that sunshine,
your unerring warmth and light
that flooded everything
you saw and touched?
who stole that beautiful smile,
those bright eyes,
that energy deep within you,
the star that shone?
what happened to cloud up
the brilliant clarity and wisdom
that you had of life
and the trust in good things?
did you think too much
of things to come?
of dark fears too many?
or of things passing?
Categories:
unerring, imagination
Form:
Free verse
Momma went trappin' till noon,
fer Ring Neck Ducks ~ en gone fishin',
also trappin’ fat coon…
so she was a dragin' er ole’ berlap
full - of game, as well, 'like money in…
'er til' ~ by thee light, of ay full moon...
Seven siblings doin' chores causin'...
Momma needed money so soon,
Grandpa en a Pop'a were a knockin'
down all those logs - for Coors, quickly
Momma chasin' chickens, while rescelin'...
in there pen, en a sloppin' with all them hogs,
why she was buzy a slippin' en a slidein'...
into a sink hole, an a trippin' over pa’ pa's logs,
frogs were a jumpin', an a hopin'
right through her hands...
While Grandpa was a brewin',
good ale, a good tale fer Kentucky mash...
fer what she longed fer sure,
Momma ney're could save 'er cent of cash,
ner're enough mash-ale fer er dough, unerring
though ~ down to her country-store...
She went one misty ~ foggy mornin'...
into one of her swamp boats, all traps
all bottle ale, so Momma went a paddlin'...
certain, per'aps
fer her new pair, so needin’ of them
ere fancy laced ~ Combat Boots
“Now remember to call your Mom too”
Categories:
unerring, desire, emotions, fantasy, fun,
Form:
Narrative
Strumming air enriching vision, full on pollen heading back;
Bees antenna are unerring always on their sky-way track,
World within a world their workplace, the link with every living plant
A hive alive was placed in Eden, I never saw; but that's true I grant'
Oxygen flows around the world, everything part or not at all..!
In the scheme of daily life; the Honey bee is there on call.
In pursuit of power & money, man reaps fields right to the edge
Instead of leaving a little spare, for the poor; alien or orphan alive in dread
Mans power to miss-use is fearful, never letting 'well alone.'
Without realising, we are not the (be-all) mankind is but a useless drone.
Categories:
unerring, appreciation,
Form:
Rhyme
We are so pleased to see you, Humans are nice
You are such easy targets, now here’s some advice
If you ever get 'Bombed' on your Jacket or Tie
Look UP to find out who scored that Bulls eye
We all laugh our beaks off as you curse and moan
At the mess that you’re sporting but you’re not on your own
All are fair game if you come into town
We don’t care if we ruin your suit or your gown
Kind folk in the Park keep us well fed
And many a loft makes an excellent bed
We get woken each morning by the very first chime
Of the Town Hall Clock as it tolls out the time
The Benches and Signposts all bear our Mark
And even the Statues stand out in the dark
They have been there for ages and you’ll suffer their fate
If you stay in one spot as you wait for your Date
Whether perched on a ledge or up in the air
Our aim is unerring and misses are rare
Lingering hatless is nothing but folly
So your only defence is to hide ‘neath a Brolly
We will target your shoulders, your head and your back
Even dogs with their owners are prone to attack
As are people at crossings and news vendors too
Or bag laden shoppers who come into view
Avoidance is futile although you may try
You will never be safe from the Lords of the Sky
So whatever your Colour, Creed or Religion
None shall escape from the Town Centre Pigeon!
Categories:
unerring, bird, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Grow in silence,
That I call a reliance;
In that no one will choke
And break my heart like a joke .
It picks me up from the mess;
Sh! Hear the nothingness.
An escape from the raucous world,
And the stories which are themselves curled.
Imagination thrives in it;
Where the soul feels a certain grit.
It gives a meaning to the esse,
Sh! Hear the nothingness.
Silence has a lot to say
And shows an unerring way.
It holds answers,
That are as right as lancers.
It makes the erroneous situation redress;
Sh! Hear the nothingness.
It makes a person ablaze,
For 'tis more poignant than a phrase.
Silence is often misconceived as an uncanny situation;
In truth it's a peaceful combination.
It offers calmness and makes the hassle less.
Sh! Hear the nothingness.
Some thinks that 'tis traumatic,
While some thinks that it's erratic;
But though 'tis full of hope and not a runnel,
Verily it's like a light at the end of the tunnel.
It's like an ocean that's serene and pulls me from distress;
Sh! Hear the nothingness.
-Namish
Categories:
unerring, 10th grade, silence,
Form:
Rhyme
Shall I relay a sidesplitting hoot from my “care-free” on campus fun phase?
It entails a laboratory session involving three mystic world colossal oafs.
One had an unerring penchant for Laurel and Hardy mishaps, the other this beautiful dreamer whose attention span rambled for miles.
a meandering focal point tourist with no yen for one spot or one task.
As for me the fault-prone narrator I had comic book deficits too.
Pulitzer Prize petty fog pinpoint, fastidious fat head by gum!
At the hearth of this tale is a chemistry prep that was doomed from an innocent outset.
It was aptly enough “Anodyne,” this soon to be splitting head bushfire.
From uproarious weighing scale howlers, to starter material gaffes, to say nothing of sequential missteps, Mount Everest blunders galore.
Our ill-fitting glassware threw tantrums, miscellaneous beaker’s burst dams, reactants rose up, a calamitous farce, they shed buckets of organic stuff down the sink.
For all my precision I seemed a right goof with this risible maximum brownie point fetish.
My beautiful dreamer close comrade who by turns Walter Mitty pale stand-in now immune to chaotic abandon at large.
That accident-prone other pal
would be every insurer’s worst nightmare.
Nearby class mates could barely restrain widespread glee at us laughing stock hapless quaint bunch.
The poor teacher in charge had a seizure, quite gormless, green faced and gobsmacked.
“I wonder what next can go wrong.”
“Quite frankly I shudder to think as you merry buffoons soldier on.”
This thunderstruck teacher was known as the “doyen of do it right down to the dottiest detail.”
After a humorous pause his eyeballs rotate in jocular mode then made a ginormous grand gesture.
“Put this jinx ridden self-destruct day in some tuck away memory file.”
“Write a one page report, say the gremlins prevailed and I’ll give you an average mark.”
“For goodness sakes don’t blow this offer like you’ve nearly blown
up my whole group.”
On an ironic note “doyen do it right” gave a brief safety course start of term.
It seemingly fell on deaf ears.
I’ll be blowed as my parents once said when life took a damned awful turn.
We three “Einsteins” in technical garb almost were, blowed that is!
Posted ; 11th January 2022
Categories:
unerring, art, character, color, confusion,
Form:
Prose Poetry
All the praises you pick along the streets
Go confirm before a new-bought mirror,
And if those rare glories you all find true
Then know she’s near that beauty shearer.
Who’s time, the unerring author of loss and decay.
And so while you wait for she who must deprive
Learn your immortal splendor to wisely salt away
In shrewd acts that the lay waste of time survive.
Reincarnate in yourself some elegant luster
To represent you in the ageless posterity,
And water with care the shoots that germinate
In the fecund garden of your youthful fertility.
The sagacious mother leaving nothing to chance,
Invest in an eternity of prayer, for if bootless
There’s nothing of yours to lose to time-owned eons,
For this enterprise outlives all, and gives all for less.
With these desiderata carefully appropriated,
Now your chance to savor the trappings of luck and time
With vast unapologetic bites and greedy careless teeth
Till the bells of the end give their long-awaited chime.
Categories:
unerring, love,
Form:
Verse
O Lord, hear my simple cry;
set this weary captive free!
For I’m condemned by my past,
imprisoned by the dungeon of me.
Break the restraints of attachment
that are distressing my soul -
Destroy the chains of my ignorance,
which continue to undermine Your control.
Forcefully storm the stony gates
that shelter the stronghold of my heart.
Let the destructive plague be swept away!
I thirst for Your Presence, as the woodland hart.
The shadow of Your magnificent wings,
protect me from the terrors of the night.
Shine Your Light into my spirit, thus allowing me…
To firmly stand by faith and not by human sight.
Lord, I offer this pledge to You -
Yours, are my love and humble devotion,
in exchange for your unerring counsel
and my acceptance of Your Salvation.
For now, a sentry of angels surround me,
forming a holy prayer circle of peace.
Embrace me with Your loving kindness,
as I desire… Your permanent release.
-----------------
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Psalm 91, Hebrews 11:1, Luke 4:18, Psalm 102:20, John 8:12,31-36, Psalm 42:1-2
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
Categories:
unerring, faith, inspirational, religionme, prayer,
Form:
Quatrain
THE CURSE OF FOG
The curse of fog
Descended while our boat was wearing,
Before we had time
To fix our bearing :
A last glimpse of lighthouse far,
Final sighting of the dog star.
We groped forward slowly together -
No one to recuse, nor rescue.
With only hope blind to tell us
To make efforts at beating,
And faith hesitant
In the tiller and sheeting;
But secure in the Captain’s swearing
And his judgment unerring.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
NOTE
This nautical poem uses words like “wear”, “beat” and “sheet”,
which tell sailors what is happening. The poem can be read
as a simple sea-story; or as a story of life’s bigger issues.
Categories:
unerring, boat, philosophy, sea, weather,
Form:
Narrative