Best Up To The Top Poems


I Write

Tiptoeing towards the edge of the towering cliff

I flap my wounded wings and fly

over tall two hundred year old oak trees

up to the top of the highest of mountains

scanning a never ending sovereign sky

I glide effortlessly in the strong southern trade winds

watching the fawn and her doe in the wilderness 

My heart starts to beat, and I write

I write of the fragrant fancy free daisies growing unrestrained

of the sun smiling down 

reflecting in the fast flowing babbling brook

of the doe munching on the savory green and yellow grasses

oblivious to her surroundings , the fawn firmly within her sight

I hear the songs coming from the red breasted baby Robin

calling to her mother wondering when she'll return with dinner

 my heart beats lovingly and I write

I soar higher and higher heading for the heavens

past the mammoth yellowish orange coloured moon

through the mysteries of the milky way

all along thinking of the mysteries lying inside you

I open my eyes, imagine I'm with you and I write

06/01/2015
© Tim Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Heart of Gold

The beauty of life, which is often unseen
I guess each of us has some sort dream

Intertwined with our ambitions and hope
Sometimes it seems so impossible to cope

Some days are blessed others are cursed 
Life; unlike a play, we don’t get to rehearse

With diligent effort we rise up to the top
Refusing to slow down let-a-long stop

Top of the mountain offers a beautiful view
A place to reflect on how dreams come true

I’ve thought it all over and I believe it is true
My dreams are mine and yours belong to you

We have our own path with rivers to cross
We cherish the gain and we regret the loss

Each one of us has our tools, which we use
The right to decide how we walk in our shoes

There will always be those who criticize and judge
Always be someone who holds some sort of grudge

Misery Loves Company is the saying they tell
No one wants to lonely especially sitting in hell

Its best not to believe in good and bad luck
Accept responsibility and not pass the buck

Reach the point where there’s nothing left to hide
That’s when you find yourself beaming with pride

I never look at another to judge my own wealth
I never judge another as hard as I judge myself

Life is a journey, which has a beginning and end
Each life has its own special meaning to send

If I die today, the story I hope my life has told
I measured my success through my heart of gold

Eve of Eternity

She couldn't contain her rhapsody demeanor much more
hugging her husband and gushing with excitement as he closed the door
the third class cabin was modest but she thought it would do
finally spending time together in this steerage cabin room

After dining together and playing cards with some other passengers
they retired to their cabin and did some reading till their eyes tired
then they spooned together in the darkness of the room
and made passionate love being they were on their honeymoon

Sound asleep till they we're abruptly awaken by a violent jarring
finding out from people running about it was from an icebergs scarring
throwing on their overcoats they we're thrown two lifejackets
and fought their way up to the top deck amidst all the panic

Their weary eyes saw the last lifeboat being lowered down to the ocean
many brave men staying behind waving trying not to show emotion
the newlyweds hugged each other while their faces wept
about to go down with the ship into the fathomless depths

They held hands while trying with all their might to hold on and grip
as the ship rose up perpendicular making them and others slip
the ship now offered nothing but quietus to the passengers on board
as they both plummeted in slow motion down to the ocean floor

Some survivors in the Titanic lifeboats watched with pitiful awe
while others who lost loved ones lost control and bawled
the ones who lost many possessions tried not to show too much enmity
while the newlyweds love story would last for all eternity.


3-18-18


Tropical Fish Tank

What a lovely sight it is to see all the fish in there
Wonderful creatures swimming about everywhere
Large ones and small ones graceful as they move
They are swimming around with nothing to prove

The Hypostomus plecostomus adheres to the glass
Cleaning the tank not letting any algae pass
Colourful clashes of many tropical creatures
Blending in nicely with all the tanks features

Red tailed sharks, Angel fish and Guppies too
Relaxing to watch them and the things they do
Aquarium plants sway gently going with the flow
Bubbles full of air up to the top they go

A community of fish are living and survive
There are no real predators so they stay alive
Feeding and swimming in their own special way
Creating their own young so they will always stay

Ornamental coloured pebbles lay on the bottom
Plecky is still cleaning up so nothing goes rotten
How wonderful it is to see all the fish share
Every last bit of food and bubbles of air

Brilliant lighting and coloured bubbles rise
They feed from the food a sprinkled surprise
Characters abundant each fish has its own
From a tiny fish fry oh how they have grown

Premium Member The Tale of Hairless Cat

They say, just there beyond the valley, that
there lived inside a house a little cat
who never went outside to run and play;
she chose to spend her time indoors each day.

They named her Hairless Cat.  Her owners called
her that because their little pet was bald.
She was a different breed of cat, and true,
her skin was bare- on Hairless no fur grew.

Some days a while back, she’d gone outside
but never stayed out long, came in to hide;
the kitties tried ignoring her, and so
would not befriend her- would not say hello.

Now, Hairless Cat, aware that she was shy
and different from others that passed by,
began to think of special ways to cope
and make them friendlier- so there was hope.

She thought and thought, whatever she could do,
to let them know beneath her bare-skin view,
there lives a nice, smart kitten hoping that
she could be friends with each and every cat.

That night it came to her within a dream;
come morning, she began to smile and beam!
Her owners left the door somewhat ajar
when they left home for shopping in their car.

Her bowl of yummy dry food in the room
was filled up to the top, and very soon,
she carried dry food nibbles, one by one,
out through the door onto the porch till done.

She stood beside her feast, began to eat,
and soon the cats came by, did not retreat-
but closer to the porch they came to see
that Hairless Cat had planned a cat party.

They came to share the feast each, one by one,
and Hairless Cat was happy they had come!
Her lonely days were over, she had won,
and every day, from then, with friends had fun.

"The moral of this story is: if you
are lonely, and you need a friend or two,
you must reach out to them and make them see
what a good friend to them you want to be."


September 20, 2015

Contest: Fabled Musings
Sponsor: Joseph May

Re Birth

~~RE Birth ~~

A Poem by Debbie_Philly 

THIS IS A VERY OLD POEM ABOUT 2 YEARS Maybe 3 YEARS OLD... 

REBIRTH

The dance is over, air expelling
from my lungs like exploding bubbles
I' am drowning , slowly descending
like a graceful butterfly who has lost
it's wings
A backward plunge into the
murky depths , arms expanded
in light freeform motions.
I must accept this chapter in which
I've just closed, set out to sea on
a barge of reverence.
My life is now movement in words.
The twirling motion of the pen writing
in the next move.
Rhythmical steps can no longer tell
my story. So I go gracefully, bow out
to pick up a new style of interpretation.
Extending a hand to clean white
parchment that waits for me on the
floor of this page.
The spot light no longer on the dancer.
It shines on a new truth now, fact that
I freely embrace as I lay the dream to rest.
Picking up a new dream , one of words
of tales, and of stories meant to be heard.
So drift down now sweet dancer in beautiful
dark arabesque motions, into the endless abyss
that was once clear visions.
Sleep now as I awake to a new day filled with
poetic beginnings.
Dance now in a different pattern, the moves
are changed but the world is the same.
Art of the mind while the body welcomes rest
Time filled with words yet to be said, spoken words
yet to be heard, songs yet to be sung, friends yet
to be embraced.
Swimming back up to the top of the waters
as a new hope is defined, the birth of a poet.
 
By:Debbie Mills Kelly

© 2012 Debbie_Philly


Next Moment



Gangsta politicians,
falling stars   ...   twinkling
of an eye 
	disappearing

Leper lips
	 halitosis blowing
Got there gun clips
and stacked deck 
	    poker chips ...
Sin City bullets overflowing

Body politic,
staph tongue infection
Still the voters ain’t 
getting sick
	    and tired of the lies
Coming from the mouth of frogs,
whose sticky words
      attract a swarm of flies

Gangsta politicians,
falling stars   ...   Babel Tower wishing
Twitchy finger hearts
	on the nuclear trigger 
Hope got a tarry start
Poof!
The next moment
	  whole cities were disappearing

Spotted skin suits,
so profiteering from the mutated pain
Rotten to the root,
nether mind laws neglect the suffering

You can scream 
up to the top tear of your lungs,
but corporate desert adders can’t hear
Dare to dream,
poll take the right party plunge ...
Now, does that pledge lessen the fear?

Gangsta politicians
demand sycophant loyalty
Falling stars
want your eyes bowed down
before their flag
Begging for a peace of crumb 
on your trembling knees

Can’t you see,
can not you read
the tea leaves?

Future past 
is on a thundercloud roll

Terrifying prophecies
have so long ago foretold
how the end’s gonna be

Gangsta politricians,
Rublecon paws    ...   blood-licking
Houdini toes, 
	the next moment,
without a cash trace  disappearing

Falling stars
want you joined
to their holster hips
Taking a serpentine bullet ride
to the bottomless pit

Premium Member Granvill Wesley Clarke

Duck Eggs
Granville Wesley Clarke

May 14, 1921, ====July 19, 2011

The late Cracker or Perry

A golden heart stop beating at sunset July 19, 2011



Today my memory is a large duck egg

Yes, that large duck egg, you got from the  

Chicken coop, so that I could have it for breakfast”

If you haven’t tried ducks, eggs
it's time to become a tester.


There will be no funeral today,

Only memories of the people we love

I remember the tall trees, in which you

Climbed in order to cut the branches that block the view

And the wind that cool our roof top  



I remember our morning strolled in big gully

In which we would go and pick green lemons

I with my small paint bucket, you with your big brown onion bag

with our findings you would fill it to the top,

My small paint bucket I also filled it up to the top:

With my doo rag tied so tight around my head I sweat bullets

my brother old pants protected my skinny legs from the bugs

There we were strolling through the woods  



Almonds, I sucked the juices, and hammer the nuts with a rock

As you cut down trees, to finish your pig pen,

There will no funeral today, or weeping

Just good old memories, about the dead

Rest in peace, with the angels,

Until we meet again,

The Price Paid

What have I done? What has it cost? What have I won? 
I know what I’ve lost.
I’ve come back empty in each hand. I’m confused. I don’t understand. 
my knees start to buckle. I’m losing my strength. Why am I feeling so weak? 
I should call out for help but it seems I forgot how to speak. I’m so heavy, getting crushed by the weight, it’s killing me. Am I being  introduced to my fate. I start to fight but I fear it’s too late. everything is pulling and dragging me down. I’ve been gasping for air. It’s too much maybe I should let myself drown. I start to sink. And for a moment I don’t even think. I’ve reached the bottom and now I’m on the brink, maybe of insanity or maybe some sense my eyes shatter open and my body’s grown tense . I make a break for the light that’s luring me up to the top .
I make a vow to myself to keep going , won’t let myself stop.

Premium Member Rainwater

A rain barrel near the house
While the rain is pouring
The rain barrel catches raindrops
Filling the barrel up to the top

Rainwater is useful
It is good for gardens
Used to wash the plants
While refreshing them

Rainwater makes small pools
The birds bath in puddles
They also drink the water
Rainwater is not wasted

Travelin’ Man


I have been here, I’ve been there,
over yonder up and down.
Been back home and been long gone,
been nowhere but been around.

I’ve traveled for a far piece,
just a hop, skip and a jump.
I climbed clear up to the top,
hit rock bottom with a thump.

I’ve journeyed and I’ve traversed,
arrived here and went that way.
Headed out, trekked, and jetted,
fixin’ to go there someday.

Went when the Spirit moved me,
only if the creek don’t rise.
I’ll head out your way sometime,
if I make it be surprised.

I’ve voyaged, gadded about,
tramped, stomped, and drifted around.
Been where the sun did not shine,
just the other side of town.

I’ve flown over the rainbow,
the other side of the track.
I’ve crossed against the traffic,
walked away and not looked back.

Always marched to my own drum,
I’ve strolled down the avenue.
Danced, pranced, and pirouetted,
I’ve had nothing left to lose.

Where I’m bound, where I’m going,
don’t ask me ‘cause I can’t tell.
Some say I’m bound for Heaven,
others swear it’s straight to Hell.

Premium Member Waiting For the Wind

When he looked up at the sky, 
and saw the clouds 
he grinned….
then he climbed up to the top of his tree
and waited for the wind
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Fish Tank

I placed a fish into a tank.
Would it float or would it sank?
A fish has its own volition - 
each one on a separate mission.
Some will to the bottom, drop.
Others will rise up to the top.

Premium Member Rainbow Cat

They say just there beyond the valley, that
there lived inside a house, a little cat
who never went outside to run and play;
she had to spend her time indoors each day.

Beside the window, curled up on a chair,
her heart was saddened by the nasty glare
of every cat that passed within her sight-
with eyes of fear and looking for a fight.

One day, a while back, she’d gone outside,
but never stayed out long- came in to hide.
The kitties laughed and chided her, and so
would not befriend her; she became their foe.

They called her Rainbow Cat- her owners named
her that, because her fur was brightly flamed
with colors- yellow, green and red, and blue
laid out in arcs; like rainbows, her fur grew.

Now Rainbow Cat, aware that she was shy
and different from others that passed by,
began to think of other ways to cope-
to make them like her- so there was some hope.

She thought and thought, whatever can I do
to let them know beneath this colored ‘doo’
there lives a nice smart kitten just like them
and, not a kitty cat they should condemn.

That night it came to her within a dream;
come morning, she began to smile and beam.
Her owner left the door somewhat ajar
as they left home for shopping in their car.

Her bowl of yummy dry food in the room
was filled up to the top and without gloom,
she carried dry food nibbles, one by one,
out through the door onto the porch, till done.

She stood beside her feast- began to eat;
and soon the cats came by, did not retreat-
But, closer to the porch they came to see
that Rainbow Cat had planned a cat party.

They came to share the feast each, one by one,
and Rainbow Cat was happy they had come!
The cats now saw beneath her rainbow fur-
she was a kitty just like them and purred.


November 2, 2014

~1st Place~
Contest: Sweet Fairytale For Children
Sponsor: BJ Legros Kelley
Judged: 05/06/2023

~1st Place~
Contest: Fable to the Rescue
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
Judged 11/18/2014

Moral:  Never judge people by how they look:
What is inside is what really counts.

Premium Member Stage Fright

Come out come out! Where ever you are!
Those of you hiding in the crowd know 
who you are.
Come out come out! wherever you are!
those of you scared to speak out loud 
in front of a crowd know who you are!
Those of you suffering from stage fright.
Know who you are. 

Just the thought of everybody looking at you. 
The fear of public speaking has you terrified.
You’re like a deer in a room full of mountain lions. 

Some of you say you’re not scared. 
You just don’t feel like coming up on stage 
Or stand up and speak in the middle 
of a classroom. But we know better. 
If you had a choice between stepping up to the mic 
or kissing the ugliest person on the planet. 
We know some of you would pucker up… 
When it comes to public speaking, some of you would prefer 
to be in the coffin then to give the eulogy at the funeral.
Some of you are scared that 
You’re going to embarrass yourself 
or that something is going to go wrong, 
or that you’ll look stupid. 

Well never fear, people want to hear you do well. 
They want to see you succeed, 
when you speak your mind.
Well that day will come 
when you are ready.

That’s when you’ll show 
your quiet defiance and determination.
You will be ready to dance 
like Nobody is watching. 
Sing like no one is listening, 
and speak like you’re standing 
in an empty room. 
If this sounds crazy, then you will learn 
that most poets aren’t wrapped too tight. 
And that our creative elevators 
go up to the top floor.
Where we are in good company.
Because if you haven’t heard, 
there are some people who are crazy, 
and then there are some people 
who are good and crazy.
So which one are you?

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