Best Upswing Poems
Our Month of March
The month of March will soon make her debut;
this winter month, our third is now in line.
And she can be a fickle one, it's true;
brings climate that is wild or quite benign.
'In like a lamb, out like a lion' force,
she teases us with spring then turns around;
and there again, another snow, of course.
So March has her surprises to astound.
But towards her end, we think about our spring,
as March does seem to seal winter's end.
We pick up twigs and branches in upswing
on warm and sunny days; on hopes depend.
But, month of March will own up to defeat
when April comes on pussy-willow feet.
Sandra M. Haight
Now that I am in my sixties,
I look back on my life like the Sinatra song.
I was working and busy until a few years ago,
but then I fell, and everything went wrong.
When I was in my fifties,
I was in the start of a new career.
It wasn't what I wanted to do,
but at that point, it was the only path that was clear.
When I was in my forties,
Life seemed to be in the pink.
Little did I know,
it would soon all go down the drink.
When I was in my thirties,
my life was on the upswing.
A second love had saved my life,
I had a good job, a beautiful wife, and a new child from the hospital to bring.
When I was in my twenties,
Young and in love like a fool.
Dating and romancing and feeling life,
all while I was putting myself through school.
Way back when I was ten,
The kids on the block...we were always on the run.
Except when I was in school,
Learning the three "R's" from those persistent nuns.
I do not remember much before the age of five.
I did what most kids do I suppose.
Learning about the world one day at a time,
Never realizing how fast time really goes.
So here I am reflecting,
on all those sixty-plus years.
Remembering the growth, the loves, the ambitions,
A life of what could have been, now reduced to tears.
Although near June casts its heated upswing
Vibrant weaves of blooms adorn field's aisle ...
‘Oh, let me relish five more days of spring’
Where tulips and dogwoods pose to beguile!
Arbitrium Divisa Contest of Gregory R. Barden
Submitted 5/26/2019
Taken from the poem ' Five More Days ' ( 5/6/2019)
---------------
~ Not entered in a previous contest~
Over the pond’s lilies’ leaves,
morning dew settles glistening sleeves —
a covering to compliment the green,
a translucent, hint-of-blue ~ from a quivering
mist hanging, hushing everything, so all the doing
of sunrise dances must in-stasis remain…
~ or transfer by essence to the understanding
intuiting within — to find birds preen, not taking wing;
and trees upswing drying branches, delighted by wet dew.
All breathe the notes of summer’s ending nocturne
composed throughout the woods and, now, day upon day,
repeat that lullaby, trickling the scales as in a piano’s play
to accompany the year’s passing time, turning into autumn
with her blazing, flaming, dazzling, bejewelling
before Mother Nature deeply exhales — weeping dew
over all her gardened Beauty blooms — beginning
their fated wilting, falling, final, felt arias’ murmuring
the refrains life plants within, holding a promise of re-birth
to come past winter’s dominance, all frozen still
with a quiet sleeping peace — prelude to renewal…
to dawn’s Spring dances and the refreshing touch of dew.
Leaves commence the dance of splendour
In illustrious September
In colours of red, brown and gold
The fall is glory to behold.
What joy it is to stand and stare
As autumnal trees shed their ware
When the trees are stripped of their braid
October sees leaf carpets laid.
When fall has had its final fling
Then begins seasonal upswing
Earth starts annual cooling down
Preparing for winter touchdown.
Beauty of fall can’t be denied
By those who are blessed with fine eyes
Embrace glory of planet earth
For every season brings its mirth.
MY FIVE SENSES
In my fifties I disavow the taste
but back in elementary school
the image would drift into daydreams —
pork kidneys with savory gravy
went well with the pucker of dills.
The fleabag oil of dog fur,
the weighted polish on nails,
and the brush of bangs on my forehead —
equally threatening.
Honeysuckle to a virgin’s pulse points,
like the aroma of heaven. Lavender seeds
sewn into a sachet. A long sniff,
the bag pressed to the tip of my nose.
My patrons walk into the library, eyes wandering,
lips gripped tight in thought, but with a proper hello
the curvature of their lips in upswing, eyes meet mine
and for a scintilla of time our hearts touch. Likewise —
the smiling eyes of children virtually untouched by experience.
Background sound unsettling, loud sounds deafening,
chomping, chewing — I run! Yet the good conversation
of friends at the table, at work, on vacation — I hug.
My five senses not always sensible, surely sensitive,
and poetic fodder — even in the negative sense.
7/25/2018
My Five Senses
Sponsor: Viv Wigley
Tonight I thought passion would bring
But not in the shape of a bed spring
The very moment I peaked
I felt what was breached
Now I am so very hampered in upswing
~*~ For Francine's "Wow Me in 5 Lines" contest ~*~
Yo, Hoboken Bars and a couple cat fights,
Yo, takin’ the path to the Palledium and Limelight,
Giants games,
Getting drunk and goin’ insane,
Never stressin, just professin’, Wu Tang Lyrics and a little Smith and Wessin’,
Yo, I hung Irish, Italian, Black, and Puerto Rican,
Weekend trips to Spanish Harlem, girl watchin’ and sight seein’,
Visitin’ fam in Flat Bush Brooklyn, and a quick stop to the Bronx,
Playin’ a little b-ball back when I had less junk in my trunks,
Liftin’ at the Y, and hangin’ tough in Parsippany,
Are you hangin’ with me?
Shot out to the Randolph Crew,
Hangin’ with Asians and Jewish cats too,
With dreds on my head, ladies sweatin’ the phat do,
Winnin’ state championships and duckin’ bauer Junia,
Sportin’ my Miata with shiny Rims, and a boomin’ tuner,
Rollin’ through Montclair and scopin’ females on the upswing,
Showin’ off my letters and #1 rings,
Though I’ve lived all over, I still claim Randolph and Dover,
I still claim, West Orange, Lauren Hill, and Fushiknins never sober,
Jersey, baby Jersey, there is no other,
With Red Alert on the horn kickin’ the overweight lova,
And yeah, we kind of dirty,
True dat,
I’ll grant you that,
But there is none like Jersey,
The Garden lounge of adventure,
And when you visit the homestead,
Just tell em Woody sent ya,
So shot out to the Jersey Crew,
It’s been a while,
Lost my style,
And my pants are a little bigga,
But yo, it don’t matter, cause Jersey yeah I miss ya!!
I push the gate- each year elate,
ending my wait to replay fate.
My roots await to drink, hydrate
and fully sate for full growth rate.
Stems push up straight to levitate
buds that dilate as leaves abate
and calibrate- blossoms create
to activate each full-bloomed trait.
I am your Spring- your loved upswing!
Each tree, a king as branches string
to a wellspring of verdant bling.
I share with zing, my season's fling.
Aft Winter's sting- while lovebirds wing,
our couples cling- soon worshipping
as church bells ring, good wishes sing.
All this I bring- my name is Spring.
February 22, 2023
Contest: In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Form Requested: Personification
(Internal Rhyme and Monorhyme added)
Post-January, February's clear
to shape into another winter month.
More times than not, with snow days we adhere.
Through days of February, we confront
a winter wonderland, a gift to see,
with hills and valleys swirled in white displays.
Ice skating, skiing, sledding, wild and free;
we celebrate our February phase.
A chance to rest, relax indoors so warm;
spend cozy times with family and friends.
No matter what, soft snow or ice-filled storm,
her wintry mix of white is autumn's cleanse.
When February's done, we must re-stage;
for next comes fickle March's middle stage.
=======
For next comes fickle March's middle stage,
a winter month, our third is now in line.
And she can be a flighty one to gauge;
brings climate that is wild or quite benign.
'In like a lamb, out like a lion' force,
she teases us with spring then turns around
and there again, another snow, of course.
So March has her surprises to astound.
But towards her end, we long to welcome spring,
and March does seem to seal cold winters end.
We pick up twigs and branches on upswing
with warm and sunny days; on hopes depend.
The month of March will own up to defeat
when April comes on pussy-willow feet.
=======
When April comes on pussy-willow feet,
we gather images of springtime's sign,
bouquets of varied thoughts of her new feat;
emerging crocus, budding branch, and vine.
Symbolic, too, the lily, pure and white;
new chicks and bunnies, butterflies galore.
The fading, icy sting of winter's night
replaced by spring's warm day, long waited for.
We contemplate each image and we know
the thrill of surging hope that swells the soul.
New life, from dormant seed, will rise and show
how spring joy resurrects from winter's dole.
To wake up dormant seedlings into bloom,
March middleness gave way to April's tune.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: March Middleness
Sponsor: Dave Will
Form: Three Sonnets
Judged: 04/21/2017
I spend two hours of most every day,
With the tending and feeding of cats.
I never imagined my end of life this way,
It causes most of our marital spats.
It's not a Kitten's fault for being born,
Nor their choice to be jettisoned on me.
It's taxing doing what's right each morn,
To a dozen cats we've became a trustee.
The cost of feeding is now out of hand,
And Vet bills are becoming all to frequent.
Then another little Kitty arrives unplanned,
Seeming to always come in sequent.
Adoptive homes we've found for a few,
Still others have tried stopping a car.
But doing our duty we'll not eschew,
On my marker just write "The Cat Czar"
But "my woe is me" changes nary a thing,
And I've too much invested to run away.
So I'll continue praying for life's upswing,
And tending unwanted cats another day.
Dusk freezes where tinsels of gold
Spill through the air as morns unfold...
Of late, in opal sheen, dawn glides
As hoar-frost whirls through the hillsides,
Revealing leaves that plunge nearby ,
Like graying pearls beneath the sky
Draped by winter in full upswing--
Till blossoms peep to welcome spring
When rosy hues climb on my gate
To bear garlands, yet I must wait
Until the sun shines down to warm
Each perfumed spray... no flakes must harm:
Their glossed petals of bridal white
And dewy pink of such delight;
Enhances May's advent, how sheer
This floral birth... tenderly dear!
For Laura Loo: Any Couplet Written In Oct-Nov 2017
Originally written 10/14/2017
Resubmitted 11/27/2017
TV sensation
Prime time news;
Wake up call
~~~~~~~~~
Elegant poise on TV
Charming sweet voice;
Brilliant anchor delivery
~~~~~~~~~
Homegrown talent
Sparkle and shine;
New media sensation
~~~~~~~~~
Stock market trends
Upswing and downswing;
Challenging times
~~~~~~~~~
Politics of freedom
Confrontational constituents;
Angry defiance
~~~~~~~~~
Observe the times
Conflicts permutates;
Right and left and wrong
~~~~~~~~~
Losing streak
Gambling losses;
Cut loss and run
~~~~~~~~~
Affairs of the heart
Uneasy showdown;
Bruised egos clash
~~~~~~~~~
Pun of old wit
Can still sting;
Mad hornets stir
~~~~~~~~~
Kill joy this talk
Something for nothing;
Deceit attends conceit
~~~~~~~~~
Gain or loss
Not much has changed;
Greedy is greedy
~~~~~~~~~
Here we go again
Flirt from old pain;
Embrace new pain
~~~~~~~~~
Sweet baby asleep
Mother's fond embrace;
Peace in the valley
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
20 October 2014
Singapore
Dreary dream dies
Entice each eye
Trust truth to tie
Opt open orbs
Use unbinds urge
Reach rides research
Do discern dare
Eat egg éclair
Thrill tragic trounce
Observe odd ounce
Unfurl unveil
Ride roomy rail
Dote deep desire
Etch end empire
Troubles trim top
Old options opt
Urge unzips use
Ripe rapid ruse
Demand dotes dear
Echoes endear
Telling truth times
Open outlines
Undo unsound
Romp reasons round
Defy dense dare
End effort ere
Touch tensile toil
Oblige old oil
Urgent upswing
Rhymes roar right ring
Leon Enriquez
26 Mar 2014
Singapore
A hero is just that lost in the suace proned to devastation
A barrage of intense flames loosed in its politically incorrect agenda
Sought back the upheavel with a smile still to know all the great while
A chalice is just that in some absurd excursion plotted to the extreme
The inevitable remedy with hearts on the upswing
Through the complacency proned to decency
The upmost honesty to endeavor the braided swelt of heat
In an illusion prond to twilight fantasy in its eternity
The inner plight of justification & sensitivity
Gone our the days we used to frolic in a haze
Today we are all being stuck inside a maze
Shattered dreams in the notion of fright to sight
In scrambled eggs inside the equation
You base your logical theories on the basis of regret
All the hero's and legend we knew as a child have left
In random discourse,
We felt the sound of innocence in the right perspective
Shattered fragments in their devastation in dreams
A flight of fancy & brevity
The cause of charity
In its equated logical fashion We absorbed the extremitites
Many today suffer in silence amidst its blindness
With temples of gloom shattered fragments in their room
Lost!