Best Varies Poems
AUTUMN LEAVES
"Autumn Leaves", red and gold
Until they fall and fade
The experiences gain through beautiful spring
Up to the end of wonderful Autumn
Makes no difference either in season or human
Non can surpass the stages destined by the almighty
Loving thoughts of the young days
Earn eternal joy and pleasure
A memory that can be preserved with pride
Varies in mankind and nature
Everlasting happiness and greatness along with
Sweet memories last till the leaves wither away
Categories:
varies, seasons,
Form:
Verse
Look into these eyes, these eyes show no mercy
Like flesh ripping off my skin, I scream
I shout the names of those I do not know
Like darkness I shall spread through your dreams
For they will become nightmares
Of which there is no return…
How you will cry, but no tears will fall
For you have sinned, and shall be burnt
Like a thousand suns you shall feel my wrath
Blood dripping from your eyes, ears and nose
The wall thickens with every breath you take
The truth I now expose
You have smiled at death… looked into its eyes
Seen the fury within the depths of his soul!
To bring you pain and much suffering
Is his aim, his only goal!
The fear from which he feeds
Is buried deep inside your mind
Laying dormant, hidden from plain sight
But eventually it will find you!
Haunt you, and bury you alive
Rip the jaws apart, gouge your eyes
Peel your skin off, until you’ve bled plenty
Only leading to your demise
For the pain doesn’t end there
It’s only about to start….
The executioner waits down below…
Ready to tear you apart
When you scream, the angels will but only laugh
For you did not listen well
You mocked them, ignored them
Now in hell’s kitchen you dwell
Into a pit of which there is no return
No escape only much suffering to come
This world varies in torture
Of which none can be ran from!
You will bleed endlessly…
Suffer like never before….
Praying to God to take you out
But he listens no more!
The path you chose has lead you to fall
And now your consequences you must face
Now endless misery and regret
For denying God’s wondrous Grace!!!
Eliel202
Belize (Country)
Categories:
varies, death, life, losspain,
Form:
Rhyme
It's the only land that you can
get all seasons in one day
you name it UK displays it
all the colors from blue to grey
It certainly has loads of great variety
from sun clouds snow and pouring rain
to hail winds storms and freezing ice
has such a staining effect on the brain
The north is such damp climate
having wet damp miserable outlook
fills one with negative thoughts
when sun shines it seems a fluke
In the south where it's bright
as it's mostly warmer with sunshine
for it's labelled the English riviera
where it matures like a good wine
The east has real mighty gale force
as America's conditions effect the west
when they come across from States
on the atlantic waves full crest
So that's Britain's wayward weather
like it or lump it that's your lot
remember you guys across the pond
don't send everything that you've got!
(Just some thoughts on the UK weather and how it varies so much, also a little quip at you guys in US where we seem to get the effects of your east coast storms but rarely your sunshine. but no matter we love you all!!!)
Categories:
varies, england, seasons, weather,
Form:
Rhyme
Star-crossed lovers? Not even close
The two were brought together at first sight, it seemed no future
Came from different families. One with an alcoholic mother. The other, never even saw a glimpse of his father.
The tale of two, both had only one pursue.
The feeling of gentle, soft, light, addictive emotion.
None had no clear dreams of tomorrow.
The nights are filled with courtship, a chase to impress the other.
One moment hot, one moment cold, the rest, just right.
Like a ripping mango, once green, now grew shades of yellow.
The days came, after one another. Filled with tears both of melancholy and joy.
Trials after trials, the tests made them tougher, stronger, milder.
Fights came about, shouts, screams, pure disaster.
Struggles were like winter. A way to make them closer, together, sharing warm laughter.
From there, the fruit of their shared endeavors resulted in four successors.
Each one varies, much like the seasons.
Yet all dream of creating presents to give to their creators.
Time ages all. Time heals it all. Time makes it all.
The two continues to smile together.
Reminiscing the past, revisiting memories that lasts.
They both continue to live, only to paint a better picture.
Time creates it all. Time tells it all. Time knows it all.
When will the two fall? When will it all dull?
Together, the two will awaken, the two will never be broken, the two will happen.
Categories:
varies, life, love, poems, seasons,
Form:
HOPE
"Hope",a little birdie you,
Vanishes mostly in the blue
Stop hide and seek with me,
One day i" ll catch hold of thee.
Make you my best pal,
Live life in high morale.
Always arrives with glee,
For grief of all to flee.
Happiness is your patent expression,
Always ready with a good suggestion.
That doom,despair is temporary,
Faith should be your contemporary.
No giving up in difficulty,
Work on one's feasibility.
Every man has his life story,
Hardwork ,service brings glory.
Only difference is story varies,
Scale of odds in their prairies
Life's pathway is wavy,
Strength makes it all easy
Great men have fallen,
Umpteenth times life boat sunken.
Edison,Lincoln and more,
Perseverance led them ashore
To none ,you leave a scar,
To all you show a star
Indifferent to colors of men,
Equal treatment you have for them
Breath after breath is life,
Till last moment one should strive
When energy gives in,
"Get up", you come in
"No giving up is your outcry,
COME ON,you have to try"
A fraction of your presence,
Refuels my uplifting essence.
Life is full of adventure,
Make it a good venture
Positive will is what makes it,
Courage,kindness completes it.
P.S-Its my favourite poem.This poem was Homefeatured recently.
Contest: Hope.
Sponsor:Nayda Ivette Negron.
30/04/2016
Categories:
varies, hope, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
Variations on the Malay Pantun : The Old Man and the Short Story - VII-IX Continued
for Georges VOISSET, the "Master Keeper-Nurturer" of the Malay Pantun
Check out: www.stateless.mysite.com/Pantouns-20-Aout-2017.pdf
(The pantun line varies between 8 and 12 syllables and is most commonly found in the anonymous quatrain form. Cf " Poietics of the Pantun ", pp. 49-67 in T. Wignesan. Sporadic Striving amid Echoed Voices, Mirrored Images and Stereotypic Posturing in Malaysian-Singaporean Literatures. Allahabad : Cyberwit, 2008, xix-244p.)
VII
The One-Act Play's the favourite Old Men's roman fleuve
Experience shows Old Men how to keep the Wench in hell
They know how to stoke the Imagination with love
They need no how-to softwares to write a novel
VIII
The One-Act Play they say is still Old Men's mainstay
Though on Freytag's Triangle they slip down climax
The Wench cannot make Old Men still come up their way
Not so the Youngster his horns gore Wench's false syntax
IX
The Wench always seeks to milk Old Men in side-burns
Old Men know One-Act Plays don't box-office burgeon
Nor drips invested in banks ensure big returns
Not so the Youngster who banks his bit in oven
© T. Wignesan - Paris, November 11, 2018
Categories:
varies, age, humor, love, sensual,
Form:
Pantoum
One suspects a matagouri temperament
Upon first glimpsing that weathered face.
Wrinkles extending like braided rivers
Life of tussles and toils, to demonstrate.
No stranger to heat or an icy shiver
Indeed he thrives on the wide-open space.
For living on the land he has chosen
Family provision his precious mandate.
Green land he’s seen, as it alters to brown
Faced the irony in dense drifts of white snow.
Worked in hot sun, until chilled from deep sweat
His path's always straight, head never down.
Famine next fortune, then dancing with debt
Passion persists, despite varying blows.
Quitting is failure akin to inept
No envy endures of those living in town.
Spells spent alone doesn’t mean solitude
For companions thrive for those that will see.
Colourful hebes, or when a kea flies by
Land always varies, indeed a joy to be viewed.
No clock to watch while there’s light in the sky
Family time not a whim of the breeze.
Other company not sought but never denied
For life on the land is fulfilment accrued.
2nd April 2016
Categories:
varies, earth, environment, farm, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
I walk amidst all these people
Contemplating in thought I stare
I walk entranced, my mind so rapt
As if I were not even there
Across crowds of so many
Of all colors, of all faces
The Western, the Eastern
Personalities in all races
I see the thin and fat
I see the short and tall
In shapes and sizes
Beauty varies in all
Some stroll with smiles
Of the old and blue
Others in peevish laughter
Of youth and hue
Dressed in diverse styles,
Some dim, some flare
I walk by women in beauty veiled
And others that walk half-bare
In some I see despair
In others I find insight
Some, I just walk by
With not much visible to sight
I walk amidst all these people
Each one to life a strand
I walk in thought, in masses
And I simply don’t understand
Categories:
varies, adventure, confusion, introspection, life
Form:
Rhyme
Variations on the Malay Pantun : The Old Man and the Short Story (Continued)
for Georges VOISSET, the "Master Keeper-Nurturer" of the Malay Pantun
Check out: www.stateless.mysite.com/Pantouns-20-Aout-2017.pdf
(The pantun line varies between 8 and 12 syllables and is most commonly found in the anonymous quatrain form. Cf " Poietics of the Pantun ", pp. 49-67 in T. Wignesan. Sporadic Striving amid Echoed Voices, Mirrored Images and Stereotypic Posturing in Malaysian-Singaporean Literatures. Allahabad : Cyberwit, 2008, xix-244p.)
IV
During the intervals of the play the actors
Spy on older folk queueing outside the lone loo
The Wench in the hall twists and turns on spectators
Not so the Youngster his pen stiff in the igloo
V
Middle-aged couples in the audience flick through
The programme not reading even the title page
Long years since they thumbed dog-ear-ed novels stuck in glue
Not so the Youngster who jumps high from page to page
VI
Old Men trundle back to their seats trailing wet patches
Not regretting over-coat flirts with hat-check Wench
Old people read novels in bed but in snatches
Not so the Youngster who throws into works his wrench
© T. Wignesan - Paris, November 10, 2018
Categories:
varies, age, humor, satire, sensual,
Form:
Pantoum
Of Beauty,
All I know is that it varies proportionally to the label on your jeans.
Of Physics,
All I know is I get up in the morning and fall down at night.
Of History,
All I know is what I can't see anymore is past, and what I'm afraid to see is future.
Of Music,
All I know is one man's Bach is another man's Zeppelin.
Of Stability,
All I know is that it's unstable.
Of Humor,
All I know is that it makes us realize what idiots we really are.
Of Economy,
All I know is that it's like a lobotomy.
Of Adolescence,
All I know is that it caused my parents to lose all of their brains.
Of Maturity,
All I know is that somehow my parents found them again, probably under the loveseat or something.
Of Cars,
All I know is that my stereo works.
Of Marriage,
All I know is that it's something my friends do occasionally.
Of Divorce,
All I know is that I could lose more than everything.
(1986)
Categories:
varies, humor, philosophy, wisdom,
Form:
Free verse
Variations on the Malay Pantun : The Old Man and the Short Story
for Georges VOISSET, the "Master Keeper-Nurturer" of the Malay Pantun
Check out: www.stateless.mysite.com/Pantouns-20-Aout-2017.pdf
(The pantun line varies between 8 and 12 syllables and is most commonly found in the anonymous quatrain form. Cf " Poietics of the Pantun ", pp. 49-67 in T. Wignesan. Sporadic Striving amid Echoed Voices, Mirrored Images and Stereotypic Posturing in Malaysian-Singaporean Literatures. Allahabad : Cyberwit, 2008, xix-244p.)
I
The Old Man often stops by the hedge or dark bush
His back to the World, the Youngster can hold his own
The short story is written through spurts in a rush
Not so the novel which calls for much breath word blown
II
The poem most write confines itself to the page
Cousin brother to the short story told in a day
Old Men take less time to leave the Wench in a rage
Not so the Youngster whose novels always end gay
III
Plays are staged with intervals peer to the novel
Essays take longer to read than the short story
The Wench smokes cigarettes waiting to stoke yell
Not so the Youngster whose next essay's more gory
© T. Wignesan - Paris, November 9, 2018
Categories:
varies, age, humor, imagery, poetry,
Form:
Pantoum
She sells items of meager income,
such as;
Soap-flakes, peanuts,
soft drinks, bakeries.
Not to make profit
but at least rich enough
To feed the family of gold.
my mummy’s little outlet,
is the bachelor’s pride.
The young men,
stride in and out
at will to the little corner,
to make themselves
fit for the kitchen,
borrow for the belly,
save for the day,
and pay for the morrow.
Its chokes to notice
You re gone
Red is still the
Colours of the blood
In our heart eyes
Though skin varies
Love you Momma.
The blackness
Of your skin
Is it strength
2ND PLACE WIN
I Can't Breathe
Richard Lamoureux
5/29/2020
Categories:
varies, absence, care, death, mother,
Form:
Free verse
she clarifies bacon grease
to make the popcorn
once it is in the bowl
add seasoning with butter
a tad of garlic, sea salt, sugar
the layers of flavor are a paradise
scattered in each morsel
this means a romantic movie tonight
probably one we have seen quite often
i never tire of this
holding her hand as she tears
with each tear, i fall in love again
she finds ways to make vegetables tempting
baked, fried, steamed, an array of seasoning
appetizers of soft cheese, celery, small sausages
while the cheese brings a subtle creamy softness
the celery mixes in fiber and mild juices
then assaulted by the piquant sausage
as it races upon my pallet
masticating this admixture
i become a contented bovine
mindlessly working the promised pasture
ruminating before i must surrender
heavens touch to the stomach
that precious smile she wears
watching that consuming ecstasy
as a soft moan of pleasure escapes me
they sit upon a thin elongated rectangular plate
which rests between two slim vases
one has a red rose, the other is pink
she never varies in that arrangement
red is her undying love for me
pink is her gratitude to God for our love
while colors never change
she will add different meanings at times
which she announces after grace
you are more than just a loving chef
you are the romantic that inspires me
you are the poet in the kitchen
whose depth lives within so many levels
i never tire of gazing upon her
she is the third rose at dinner
my Blue rose, the unobtainable
is obtained, the chimera realized
each bite i take is another sonnet
she has carefully crafted
in that enchanting cauldron
those soft moans escaping onto her smile
have become my book of best-loved poems
1/16/19 Kismet
Categories:
varies, devotion, i love you,
Form:
Romanticism
--Our Father God Makes US POETS- A Dedicated Verse to Caren Krutsinger--
Lord the colors of your world" indeed makes me a poet's heart sings with delight."
Solemn is your righteousness Hallelujah Awesome rights;
Caressing the freedoms of expressions
As well as those freedoms of friendships
Father God I thank you for all those
Our Father God Makes Us POETS
"Wow! You’re My God, My God even love the way create. Oh, wow. I had not thought of this in a long time, you resonate;
But Father it is so right! Nice one my friend; God-inspired." Creator of the universe and oceans;
Caressing the freedoms of expressions
As well as those freedoms of friendships
Father God I thank you for all those
Our Father God Makes Us POETS
"Beautiful tribute to this your works, you God created all this;
Unimaginable bliss;
Lord, you paint the heavens in varies colors"
You Father- appeal to my artistic heart and my God-ly side and love of nature."
So if I’m worthy, would you Father be my enabler;
Caressing the freedoms of expressions
As well as those freedoms of friendships
Father God I thank you for all those
Our Father God Makes Us POETS
Alas poetess cultivar,
Gracious grand poet gunslinger,
Such a humdinger Never are you a, mudskipper, or punisher,
But I suggest you are grand poetess Caren Krutsinger
Our Father God Makes Us POETS
3/15/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Dedicated verse to Poetess ~ CAREN KRUTSINGER~
Categories:
varies, analogy, appreciation, blessing, dedication,
Form:
Free verse
Identity
What a strange word
It exists for those with longings
for the mystical past.
The world has many cultures
it is easy to get lost
in the wilderness called identity
without, one is a cloud in the sky
varies according to the weather.
Wouldn`t that be wonderful
to belong to no one but oneself.
Categories:
varies, car, cat, chanukah, child,
Form:
Blank verse