Best Verses Poems
She hides a jar of dread
Underneath the bed
With other bottled pains
Until her feelings rust,
Collecting tears and dust
And cobwebs of old shame.
But when the night arrives,
She's just a name on a stone,
And a box of cold bones
That yearn to be alive.
She hides another lover
Under satin covers
To wallow in warm lies
Until she can forget
The folds of deep regret
That drape her weary guise.
But when the night arrives,
She's just a name on a stone,
And a box of cold bones
That yearn to be alive.
Yes, when the night arrives,
She yearns to be alive.
Where blushed verses of horizon compose on the amber sky
Jubilation resonates from marigold echoes of the sunlit arc
Quivering ripples of water-designs, glittering rays of golden spark
Beneath darkened canopy of clouded intentions floating by
Oblivious to rosy brush-strokes mesmerizing romantic sight
And the song of freedom erupting from wings of a lonely flight
Where blushed verses of horizon compose on the amber sky
October 8, 2019
Placed 1st: Make it seven poetry contest, image #2
Rhyme: ABBaCCA
Sponsor: Joseph May
Placed 3rd: Strand 650 by Brian Strand
Wanting to shrug off this shell, break loose from me
Silence that damn hermit, hiccuping under his tree
Trapped inside too long, dormancy dreams to wake
Disgorging bubbly lava, fills in soporific landscapes
Longing to escape soft tissue, cast off mortal bones
Break shackles of mundanity, rid life’s infernal drone
Out there lies all answers, beyond the hermits void
His space mostly perfect, til our Big Bang destroyed
Go forth and multiply, primal stars hypernova like hell
Filling a cosmos with elements, configuring him as well
Hold your tongue hermit, stop humming about in bliss
Stay quiet down that hole, cease fumbling at the abyss
Deeper and deeper, below where basements depress
Sits an altar of incremental tables, poets go to confess
Forget truths algorithm, they’ll fool any polygraph test
And the hermit lies all day long, he meditates for a rest
Breathe in, breathe out, forget about terminal breaths
Don’t underestimate the ether, chants a monk in Tibet
Fill your mind with mindfulness, peace will set you free
Watch them hiccups abate now, our hermit’s all at sea
February 6th 2023 / 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers'
FINAL Placement Poetry Contest / Sponsor: Mark Toney
What pleasant dream may soothe my eyes
When autumn's breath may grace our days
Wondrous a dream in the blazing sunrise
That charms my heart in autumn's grace.
I've kissed a dream when I look into your eyes
That springs my face like vibrant flowers
In all the bright and sober hours
When the mortal breath of men may sigh.
Entranced within your loving eyes
While greyish skies grow young and fair
You threw your emerald eyes upon me
That you may arose this tender tear.
The eternal rose of love I've found
When all is lost and life is done
What perfect dream this life would crown
Dulce de las fuentes de mi corazón.
Your lingering scent bathes the empty spaces
When the silent pulse of morn would murmur
While melodies would draw its sweetest verses
To bless the earth on which you saunter.
Then the storming winds would pluck
The last of the fragrant roses
As to drift to you my dear beloved
When your gentle soul reposes.
Beneath a naked tree nodding in the winds
At the threshold of the withering buds
As bright as the rays on the trembling seas
Lapping in the mournful distance.
Life Fled As I Sought Yet Another Day,
( verses born from the illusion of immortality, 1977)
Part One
As I went beyond that black veil,
Having trod this earth and seen hell,
I look back while daring to say,
" Life fled as I sought yet another day."
Yes, youth was fine in days of dust,
Love its great bounty sought, a must,
Little thought of the later pay
" Life fled as I sought yet another day."
World was a ride, its glory great,
Of its sweetest pleasures I ate,
I that went about my own way,
" Life fled as I sought yet another day."
I a warrior born by birth,
A child of heart, a child of earth,
A lone vagabond as they say
" Life fled as I sought yet another day."
A true joy, my shadow and I,
Wanderer beneath heavenly sky,
Hellbent to do just as I may,
" Life fled as I sought yet another day."
O' sweet future lay at my feet,
As I sought coming death to cheat,
Fate cried, " No more can you stay"
" Life fled as I sought yet another day."
As I went beyond that black veil,
Having trod this earth and seen hell,
I look back while daring to say,
" Life fled as I sought yet another day."
Robert J. Lindley, March 5th, 1977
Rhyme, ( To live, love and dream, a life )
Presented 1-13-2021
Note: deleted
Poems have their verses
Blinded by the light
Stood outside to stare
Counting clouds in groups of two
If only you were there
Dreams may come in circles
Rounding out the bend
Ovals in a cornered box
Wanting you again
Laughing through the sadness
Easing past the fear
Bandages of cotton call
Wishing you were here
Singles by the double
Threes improve the score
Adding up the right and wrong
Needing you once more
Pens run out of ink
Pencils break their lead
Chalkboards need to be erased
I’ll love you instead
Poems have their verses
Often they do rhyme
It really matters not to me
As long as you are mine
“Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.” – Carl Sandburg.
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Stirring souls, poetry just knows,
Love, fire, boldest winds of desire,
Rains blessing, song without a choir.
Words pouring out soft, gentle prose,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Glistening dreams, love to extremes,
Beckoning from silence that screams.
Dance of dances, fluid verses,
Poetry that grace coerces,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Poems who don’t just tell but shows.
Rhymes and rhythms, tenderly abide,
Singing of light, sometimes wild-eyed,
Hearts might remain in the shadows,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Sweet are the verses in rhymes that are sung
that genius the mind in history does crown
Blank white pages with divinity and splendor
Stoned face, haunting or dark and yet tender.
With celestial visions charmed as they be
Will but lighten our hearts with a spirit free
With the streaming pulse of unwavering joy
With crystal enlightenment, this is our ploy -
That our names would lie in history's book
That eternal we'll be remembered, but look
There's a poet clasped on the mighty wind
Where the perfumed blossoms softly bend
In sweet sighs like deep breaths, to blend
With rippling streams in murmurs and then
There his solitude has sought no fame
Among the throngs of mightiest names
Like Byron, Elizabeth, Keats and Emily
Like Shakespeare, Poe, Blake and Shelly
But in the warm breath of silence he lays
Where no man may gather and praise
Gifted his glimmered thoughts proceeding
With humility's grace and love exuding
From blessed a heart as pure as the springs
Clasped upon God's wondrous wings.
Oh never lose sight of our earthly treasure
That beyond every carnal soothing pleasure
Is that gleaming gift imparted to us all
That in poetry's grace we may stand tall
In fun or in fame or in dream's pursuit
In practice or in shame or in joys mute
That our pleasured words, we may mute not
Thro' life's sorrowing moments and yet but
Thro' the coursing days of history's lines
How sweet the verses when sung in rhymes.
What does poetry mean to you personally? I'm open to heartfelt expressions to the question.
Yawn, sigh
By and by
Wish time would fly
What do you do when life throws you a misguided curve?
You just keep on chugging, never losing nerve.
It’s easy to quit, give up, holler I’ve had enough.
But just shake it off, get tough, show em you got the stuff.
Pity parties are for losers that will only sire defeat.
Never stop trying even when better judgement says you’re beat.
If you’re not fully charged with a positive electrode,
Then it won’t take much of a negative to drain your load.
Keep yourself charged with a positive upbeat,
Then you’ll know why I say victory can taste so sweet.
No matter who you are there is always somebody that looks up to you.
So be a role model, set good examples in all things that you do.
Your one fleeting moment of good may set the tone,
To that someone that was watching, that you may have never known.
Take it from someone who has been on both sides of the fence.
A positive and good attitude is always your better defense.
Just have faith in knowing that tomorrow the sun will shine.
Just in believing will give you a much greater peace of mind.
You feel your body falling in blackness.
You snatch your shoulder to the right.
The nausea stops.
The bottomless pit is hell.
Do not enter the midnight.
Up in the window, stands a coyote.
His teeth are bared in detestation.
He howls his satanic verses.
Abomination is his curse.
Do not confront this animal.
Life fades.
Humankind is mentally dead.
They have goaded the animals with the splicing of human brain.
A dog walks with the persona of man.
Do not speak to him.
In the hollow of a tree with leaves as a covering, lies a wolf.
Her teeth are gleaming as she slyly looks.
She stands and yowls her satanic verses.
Atrocity is her hatred.
Do not attack.
Run as fast as you can.
Satan is on a journey to win.
Shout for the Holy Spirit to enter.
Abhor venerating the regards of our creator.
Do this to be save.
Satanic verses you hear in the howls and yowls of the pacts.
They speak in tongue about your nicks and knacks.
Purloins humankind has become by affronting the world the omnipotent formed.
The great divided is no more.
Satanic verses are the faunas’ voices.
Beware the midnight!
_______________________________
Penned on May 27, 2014!|
Wrestling Verses
Spilling ink onto paper,
reading tea-leaves,
fragments of mirth,
shards of anguish,
remain,
trapped in rolled-up sleeves.
Turning up my collar,
as blue as these days that slip by,
scattered verses plunge into,
the fathoms of unknown waters.
My ink runs, slips, treading lightly,
penning odes to love on bare skin,
your skin,
your bare back my canvas,
my fingers tracing, caressing, scribbling,
homages to our laughter, our tears.
Wrestling verses,
lie spent, exhausted,
famished and parched from saying too much,
still,
my fingers tickle your soft skin,
my ink would run dry,
were it not for your gentle touch
I am the poet of the garden, hear my song
My petals are pages where verses belong
Rooted in the earth, yet reaching for the sky
I write my story as days and seasons fly
My first draft sprouts, a tender green shoot
Pushing through the soil, finding my root
Each leaf unfurls, a stanza takes the form
Braving the elements, defying the norm
Sun is my muse, rain my ink
I compose in colours you can't even think
Bees are my critics, buzzing review
Carrying my words to gardens anew
I bloom in metaphors of vibrant hue
Similes as sweet as morning dew
My fragrance, a rhythm that floats on the breeze
Alliteration in the whisper of leaves
Short maybe my time under the sun
But in this brief life, volumes are spun
Each day a revision, each night an edit
Till my final draft stands, and I'm proud of it
I face my mortality with every line
Knowing my words will wilt in time
But fear not for me, for in my seeds
Lie sequels and stories for future reads
So pause by my stem, inhale my prose
For I'm more than just a pretty rose
I'm a writer whose work is never done
Till the last petal falls, and my tale is spun
In the cycle of nature, I'll write once more
Rising again from the garden floor
For a flower's life is but a book
Endlessly rewritten, if you know where to look
Play only love songs
For tonight’s starshine hours,
with its winking
Constellations all
Hailed
And wished upon
To make this night completely
Ours ~
and keep love’s longing
Lasting
Here within us
Near
enough to
Touch
Smiles
While our wooing words turn into
gifts of kisses
Re-living our first embraces
with hearts pulsing
Music
Now
Freely composing itself
for our time yet to come
Living in a choral harmony
with love’s true verses
Coursing rivers
Amidst the patient rythms of
Lasting
Eternity…
The sun set low
And my heart split asunder
The wind blew hard with traces of slow
Darkness spread around and pierced deep under
My blooming valley of roses
Causing them to wrinkle and writher
Poison seeped through my immaterial illusionary world
And caused my heaven a devastating destruction
Smithereens of cutting glass started flowing in my blood
Caused me to shed tears, which made my imaginary world flood
The night seemed eternal, the silence so bloody
Chilled my nerves with horror so relentlessly
Stung my heart with so horrible notions
O how I wished I could lose myself in a twirling motion
With sight and tears, my head rested to a weak slumber
Jerked awake the next morn with a head struck with thunder
The tears so mercilessly had intervened with my peace connection
To stay serene for the next few hours was something beyond imagination
O how I dearly desired the whole ordeal was just a wicked dream
But reality chases one even in a protective realm
Ambled I feebly with a heart soaked in dolor
To a room which I considered my treasure trove
Where I had hatched all my sunny memories and flourished in their fragrance
Where flowed swiftly my memory river with steadiness
With broken sighs and a distressed heart
I set forth to design a beautiful card
But relinquished my work before it was accomplished
Well aware I was that fate would not have it acknowledged
With uncontrollable emotions and a heart filled with desperation
Broke off into a million tears which filled my sea of emotions
With withered reminiscences and scattered notions
How I wept! With great pain I sobbed
As if of worthy fortunes someone had me robbed
My plight seemed everlasting, my love ever flowing
Through the misty valleys where there was no hope of blooming
Into long cherished dreams and sentimental illusions
If it was God’s ordained Will, then there was no solution
Except to bear the whole trial with forbearance
But I failed to practise that, and made undesired interference
In matters where things were already so bleak
But I ensured that my next few months were doomed to make me weak
That’s another story, I desire to abandon it for now
Sometimes later, so farewell for now