Best Verbalize Poems
As I stand mindfully, facing mirror of my life,
Juxtaposition of yesteryears’ reflections revive
Mountains of grief and valleys of despairs,
Heartwarming wins and heartbreaking losses,
Echoes strumming joy and shouts in the void;
Thinking of plans shelved, dreams deferred,
Tears of rejoice and bawl of lonesome cries,
Past of dawns darkening on nebulous skies,
Cheerful episodes evoking days of sunshine
Ambivalent in discourse of seasons gone by;
Distraught in endeavors strived, but failed,
Overjoyed in laudable, worthy achievements,
Saddened by the hollering of indelible regrets
Callously crowding the path of my ambitions
On avenues not taken, of choices forsaken,
Competing for space in the mirror of my life;
As memories euphoric verbalize photographs,
And stories euphonic stoke cherished laughs,
And celebrations clap the sound of applause,
Endearingly revered and treasured lifelong,
Where, as I cogitate, recalling a life sublime,
Man in the mirror smiles, content with his life.
May 7, 2022
Placed 3rd: In the Mirror of Life Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
~Life Support~
Welcome New Poet To Poetry Soup,
I offer you a warm smile, in hopes you come back another day.
From the moment I spot your name on the new poet list,
I roll out the welcome mat, in hopes you will stay
I am not afraid of you, I will approach you to say hello
I will Annoy you until you stop by and say "YELL-OW!"
Please have patience, when my ink has no flame
Don't be intimidated by The Poet Destroyer's name,
I'm sweet looking like a lollipop and fun like a kitten
"Warning!" Don't get too close or you'll be smitten,
You can choose to adore or instigate petitions of envy
When it comes to PD
Even then I am a friendly poet, protected by God's loving levee
It's time to introduce myself, call me Linda or PD
Unless, you're in constant warfare for the dominance of poetry
Then by all means, express yourself retard-ly
Verbalize my name, in any which way you like
Call me The Poet Destroyer, when tapping the mic
All though many here know I'm more of a Poet Supporter
A comment crusader, a poetic hoarder
I have no shame in my game,
I give, I love, I treat everyone the same
Unwind, Enjoy all the Xoolness coming to your direction
Inspiration, Contest, Friendly Poets, Poems, and Dedications
I am not a mentor, I'm not a preacher advocating the perfect poem
I am me, original as can be, in time you will seek out my troupe
Reminiscing, over the time I was your first,
Regale with loving respect, don't judge my hunger and poetic thirst
To all new poets I promise, I'll be faithful and follow you like a star
Unless, you forget to put gas while side showing in my crystalline car
Don't worry, New Poetic Poe, I got your back
Taunting you with a copy paste smack
Call it a "--Statement--" call it what you want
I call it, Love From PD, enjoying the community
With a simple hello, and peace out spree
CONGRATULATIONS, to all who made it through the years
Ain't nobody here worth more than you and your poetry
Take this time, and introduce yourself my new friend
Remember New Poet:
If it weren't for you, this place would be 2005 all over again
Always & Forever
Age Of Poet Destroyer
6-24-14
Riding distressed air, thoughts wander off
Disrupting poise and shaking her resolve
As the blue skies yield to darkened clouds
And sunny day concedes to advent of dark.
Looking for warmth she reaches far back
Reminiscing allure of moonlit ambiance
When holding hands under luminous stars
Amatory vibes twinkled dreamy romance.
Not a word he says about impending plight
Wrapping around her a reassuring stance,
Humming a tune from the sensuous past
Looking for sunshine amidst dreary storm.
Tomorrow will be the first day of new life
As countdown begins to how long he lives.
She'll be ready with the will of almighty,
Defying death at the entrance of mortality.
Much as they try to verbalize what's ahead
Silence manifests when words are needed.
A kiss of passion says she'll love him always
As one last tear sheds in grip of his embrace.
February 4, 2019
Placed 1st: Strand choice K contest by Brian Strand
Placed 2nd in one last tear poetry contest by Silent One
We don't expect something from nothing
but always keep hope lightly lit
We want what we know won't be quite good for us
and force situations which never will fit
We speak when we should hold our tongues by the throat
and let silence bounce off the air
We verbalize nothing and yet all at once
we scream that the world is unfair
We hold all the cards to our life in one hand
and grab with the other at dreams
We grow up imperfect and tragic and bent
and about to burst out at the seams
And yet in this comedy of errors
we still pin dark dignity down and demand
that we're made in the image of One who is mighty
and not a mere mortal, a man
We yearn for a taste of perfection
and search with an uncommon zeal
We reach out for moments which polish our bones
and convince us our future is real...
Hi Dad, I miss you. I’m sure you’re very happy up there and all the prep you did while you were sick paid off in wondrous ways.
I’ve been thinking about our past and the good times you made sure we had along with the food on the table and the roof over our heads. I’ll never understand how you managed to raise six kids on your salary.
Communication was never a big thing in our family. Your funeral was a prime example. It was just a sad showing before the mass and then a quiet ceremony. I was so happy to honor your passing by playing deep glorious Gregorian chants as loud as I could to accompany your rising above the clouds. It was as close to a ritual as it was going to get.
What we don’t verbalize stays hazy, unexplored and undefined. Like you, I keep everything inside, I avoid conflict at all costs – overall this really hasn’t worked against me too much, the few times I exploded were not particularly winning outcomes. What’s the use? Teach someone a lesson? That never works. I’m just as happy being the way I am. It seemed to have worked out for you as well.
You were a good model for following your heart and what you believed in even if you knew you’d pay for it. It was the price of freedom and making your own decisions. Self-satisfaction was the ultimate prize. I’m just like you – stubborn to the point of making stupid decisions and not caring that they’re stupid. That’s the way we exercise our freedom.
If you can, I’d love it if you helped me to discover my life mission and what lessons I need to learn down here. One of these lessons must be to learn to make do with minimum money: as depressing as it can get, struggling does have its rewarding upside of promoting creativity.
Maybe you can also guide me in my prep for the big final trip.
I love you, I miss you. I’ll see you again some day.
Always your baby girl xx
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~A SIMPLE MAN~ 2020
AP: 1st place 2020
Posted on March 7, 2020
Indistinct, they circumnavigate in the raw ~
they’re thoughts unprocessed and unpolished
ethereal and feral, nothing more than impulses really
If it were up to me, I might drown in that sea of ambiguity
and forego all communication with the outside world
forever content staying confined to my private universe
In most instances I couldn’t be bothered
yet at times I’d almost want to scream to be heard
that’s when I’d want to be as loud and clear as I could be
But sometimes the words refuse to form
at times so deep they must be mined
and surface in their own time that can’t be rushed
So I write because it allows me to think at my own pace
I can capture what I feel, what I remember
I can seize it and can verbalize it
I write for different reasons
I write because most people
never ask what’s on my mind when the time’s right
or won’t wait for me to put my thoughts to words
I write because I want to say it right
I want to choose my words
not be misquoted
Mostly I write to capture time
time as a memory, time as a treasure
time as tangible, time as a toy to amuse
Mostly I write to be heard
I write so I can say I’ve done my part
I’ve said my bit and can’t be faulted for staying quiet
I write so I won’t die
without a voice, without saying my piece
without having said all I had to say
AP: 1st place 2022
Posted on September 2, 2022
Radha’s Song- A folk Song of India 2/2
Prelude
This folk song is based on the childhood incidents
of naughty 8-10 years old Krishna, who use to
please everyone of Gukul village, Gokul is the
place where the divine Krishna was brought up
by his foster mother Yashoda.
O, Please tell me, what should I do,
Speak a word, to extinguish my worries,
I cannot live, without seeing,
The alluring face of our naughty Krishna.
O, please tell my friend, how should I manage it,
What plea and excuse dear, I can tell in my home,
How to go back to home, without Gagariya and Chunri,
Even without water, which would create only difficulties for me.
Stunned and mesmerized, by the magic of our Krishna,
I stand here only, in a state of being sweetly robbed,
Instead of searching my Chunri and Gagariya, O Sakhi,
I am trying to touch his alluring image only, in the water.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 26 10 2010
(Protected under copyright provisions of Poetry Soup)
Clarifications:
*Radha. Radha was the childhood friend and was one of the most beloved Gopi of Lord
Krishna. She was the beauty, power and aura create the ethics of love. None of the
scriptures consists of the power to verbalize her beauty, for it is clear enough that when
beauty of Sri Krishna makes several hearts leave their boundaries, her beauty is so
mesmerizing that it makes Him loose consciousness.
*Krishna. Krishna is often depicted as an infant or young boy playing a flute as in the
Bhagavata Purana or as a youthful prince giving direction and guidance as in the Bhagavad
Gita. The stories of Krishna appear across a broad spectrum of Hindu philosophical and
theological traditions.] They portray him in various perspectives: a god-child, a model
lover, a divine hero and the Supreme Being.
*Gagariya. The earthen pot used still in Indian villages to collect water from river, pond
or wells.
* Chunariya. A long strip of cloth to cover the beauty of a woman. It normally hangs on
the bosom to cover them.
Punghat. Is the word used for a place from where water can be collected by village women
of India.
*Sakhi. Hindi word means female friend
Before the days of censorship,
I longed to be heard,
no one to keep my secrets safe,
not a single word-
Everything was out in the open,
no voice was silent,
back during the days of yore,
before debates were violent.
So many times of edgy speeches
were allowed and occurred.
When activists were able
to speak their mind,
now such honesty is so darn
hard to find-
Can we not speak what
we feel is our belief?
Now we all have to keep quiet
without true relief.
Our articulation gone missing,
we are hushed and confined.
When did it start, being on the
verge of placid moments?
Now we must be careful and
drown in apologies and atonement-
I remember when I could use my
pen to write with reality,
now there are judgments
claiming unauthenticity.
It used to be we could verbalize
ourselves with condonement.
To be honest there is not much
freedom to vocalize,
so many people lost in this world,
with offence in their eyes-
I do not blame those who try to
reach out and speak with accuracy,
we must be able to say the
facts with sincere veracity.
This suppression is depressing,
when will they realize?
Nowadays this world seems
to be so insane and hazy,
people live lives of foolishness
and are lazy-
We are not able to express
ourselves with candid conversation,
only bringing an obnoxious
and repugnant civilization.
If only we could communicate with truth,
instead of being crazy.
Ground Edges Poetry Contest
September 29, 2017
Totems are formed through a talisman tribal identity.
*
Talisman emblems to the tribal identity.
Totem to raise above the distinctiveness of foreign Indians.
Democracy is bureaucracy to their form in the Americas.
Columbus verbalize the inhabitants to be Indians.
Native tribes are the origin of the hills, mountains, flatlands, and prairies.
China brought their prairie dog and pitted him against Mayan’s.
They must think they will crest in the United States of America.
Mayan Tribe resides in Mexico.
Therefore, these immigrants better venture further.
I am not trying to miscommunicate my pillaring.
I am gore from the origin I speak of.
I am not volatile to the carnage of man.
I am (the) only representation of peace in the motherland.
Twenty-twelve and I am fulfilled with empowerment.
Charmed by my own intellect, I am an epitome of women’s health.
Taiwan, Asia has provided me insight
Of the plight that my body manifests.
Physicality did through a technical presence
To demean dignity for blokes.
I am fortified by prophecy foretold.
I hope this is not confounding the mind.
Miscommunication is not a strength of mine.
I aspire to pierce the thoughts to impale or to prevent a loss.
My origin is first and foremost.
Amulet, the synthesis conjecture is that talisman tribal identity forms totem poles.
_______________________________________________________|
Penned April 13, 2015!
At last I am free
from a language that
tried to subdue me;
And all the faces from my past.
That of statured men (on knees)
stripped from sacred dignity-
from being man.
Trying hard to dispute
that I, could verbalize those words.
World, here, my eloquence.
I speak the language of the free.
Though, can I, not hide
a truth so clear to see;
I’ve been speaking a language, foreign to me.
Countless times. Sagacity…
Never shedding a tear?
Only You my Lord, can judge.
Though, hear, this cruel reality-
Born of slave; so too, was meant to be.
Tears! Rivers, the consequence of time.
Wash me clean; please, white I’d be.
How cursed my mother’s tongue?
Yet, all I recall, sweet loving.
Nonetheless, I went running…
Escaping into what I thought was light.
Ridding me from daunted eyes.
Pray, my fathers forgive me.
I am a man of reverie.
At last, I am free
From a language that
tried to subdue me.
So hard to live (this) perceived inequality.
Compounded sins of he, who tried to silence me.
The same coming forth on bended knee.
God, set them free…
That day will come
When I can no longer utter my deepest thoughts
When you won't be able to read them either
Life has crept up on us
The rush of life
Became our daily quest
I hope that when my voice becomes silent;
That my actions will verbalize my thoughts
I might not see you everyday
We might not converse everyday
Like in the past
But try not to forget
How I made you feel
In that moment
When the room was overflowing
With faces
And out of the crowd
You only had eyes for me
©160820151716
Bigotry's ubiquitous;
its roots entangled in time.
And as intolerance grows,
anxieties start to climb.
Using angry, hurtful rants;
racists verbalize their fears.
And sneer, as innocence cries;
unmoved by the flow of tears.
Strong minds recruit weaker minds;
offering friendship as bait.
And partial truths, target youth;
while preaching doctrines of hate.
Bullies quickly become trapped;
in a web of pain and vice.
For a lifetime of hatred;
inflicts a terrible price.
He the heir of ding a-ling
Not to proclaim again
The universe; below the belt of lonesome theme
Nothing like Euripedes scale?
Warriors! Abide no more!
Let him hear! By anothers winter's tale!
Let him speak!
Verbalize his own ideals of the will
Free of justice, back his wealth in need of triduum
He's the man of knowledge, the half was taken
Forbids not to take the road again!
Don't kill! He may endure cynism beyond pain!
Let him freed!
He's not Echo who just love himself
He, the scientist of the noble minds
Of an old aphorism in 1513
Please! Do not my King, in Napoleon's name!
His words are gait sparred
Oh! Like him is just a continuation of pendulous fame
He's not Gods, nor Greek, nor French
His human by all faith and means
Do not kill! His worth more than any of cunneus wedge
More than you'll know my kin
Do not let him die in his sentence...
Red Lanterns
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Red lanterns hang where green orchards glow.
They swing in the breeze, they dance and then freeze,
Red glistening balls say cheese, play yo yo and tease.
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Red lanterns hang where green orchards glow.
The butterflies flutter in, the bees swarm in,
Their honey they churn in, their lips sugared in
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Red lanterns hang where green orchards glow.
Arched rainbows above them, midnight stars cover them,
Spring season blossoms them, summers in hands toss them.
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Red lanterns hang where green orchards glow.
Poets are inspired to verbalize, lovers flock to romanticize
Children fly through to chastize, their pets follow to energize,
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Red lanterns hang where green orchards glow.
Coronated princesses in dreams become temptresses,
Songbirds in high spiritedness transform it all into seductiveness.
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Red lanterns hang where green orchards glow.
April 18, 2016
For Julia Ward
A First Line Prompt
I apologize for the lies, I used for my disguise.
I must learn not to sympathize, but to empathize.
‘Cause my negative actions terrorize the people who I idolize and/or prize.
Therefore, I realize the fact I have to revise, minimize and sterilize my life, because of this, music is my sunrise, but only my passion for music can end my self-destruction or demise.
Therefore I need to rationalize my choices so I don’t get categorized or characterized and criticized for my evil side in which is the side of me I despise.
Therefore I vocalize (sing) and verbalize (rap),
To visualize my arise for being wise in my attack.
To recognize, penalize and exercise the poltergeist
or evil spirit which advertised the sin and lies of rap.
This is my attack, to rise, ‘cause rap today is
built on lies, so utilize your gifts and talents
to surprise, neutralize, baptize and revolutionize
a world of demise and introduce a world of facts.
I don’t wanna dignitize the world of media’s lies.
A true rebel today goes against the norm of the idolize of merchandise.
So be a true rebel and change today’s world of media. Listen to the message ‘cause the truth underlies.
So get this message because it mystifies.
These following I don’t wanna’s are mine and try to see my life through not yours, but my eyes.
1. I don’t wanna be locked up, I just wanna go home.
But I keep on doing wrong, that’s why I sing this song.
2. I don’t wanna cry no more, but I’m so depressed. But I’ve witnessed blood and gore, these feelings I express.
3. I don’t wanna be alone, I just wanna have my own. I will always sing my songs, trying to right my wrongs.