Best Visited Poems
Writing different forms I find so hard to do
Yet I wrote a poem using the form dodoitsu
Wrote it with hope thought it was just fine
Liked by others, yet wasn’t placed this time.
I have re-read it since and in my mind it’s a star
the Veils of Autumn playing on your senses afar
It is there for all to read and enjoy that’s true
Not making the list, doesn’t take away the view
That this poem creates for all to see
Proud of this poem, cos it was written by me.
Categories:
visited, happy, poems,
Form:
Couplet
THE DAY I VISITED GIORGIO V.
The day I visited Giorgio V.
It was poetry that received me :
Poems lined after poems
Like the military in morning parade ;
I saw words command words
I saw words send words on errand
Every word in its rank and its place
Like items in Lidi or Audi’s shop.
There is gender in poetry’s palace :
The she-poems need no introduction
Their body features speak for them
But many are he-poems in Giorgio’s league
That Lexicon or Thesaurus must first introduce ;
The array is beauty to behold
Variety is the jewel that stands here out.
Then came the Marshal
The commander of the battalion
On his epaulet I read : poetic anatomy –
His dexterity in letter wins queens ;
He grows poems where men grow hairs ,
He took first step , gourdlets of poetry were dropping
He took the next , gourds of poetry were falling
He took another , it was barrels of poetry that were rolling down
At this point I heard a thunderous voice :
‘‘Stand at ease , stand alert
Quick march , slow march
March in review order
March in advance order
Open hair dresser
Salute.’’
Majestically he walked , like the Irish Colum ,
In the columns of words as he inspected the guard ;
Sundenly he turned back and made my point his path ,
Could he have seen me ? Yes, he did ;
As he got to me , phonetically he pressed :
What can I do for you ? Like in catechism I replied :
Your servant has only come to glorify the god of poetry.
Categories:
visited, dedication,
Form:
Epic
I often visited my grandparents when I was a child
then whispers of Grampa's death left me upset
Gran struggles with the garden, overgrown and wild
unkempt flowers and ferns won’t win a prize rosette!
I stay at Gran’s house during the long school holidays
we often sit outside on the porch until late at night
Jasper, the old collie dog, basks in warm sunlight rays
which stream through the glass roof, bringing us such delight
I help Gran clean the window panes in the front door
and dust the ornate staircase that leads to my room
then I pick pretty flowers with the sweet scents I adore
whose fragrance reminds me of Gran’s briar rose perfume
Decaying House Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Constance La France
07/18/20
Categories:
visited, childhood, house, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
When Santa visited The Elf Inn.
He was taken quite aback.
The landlord said 'Leave now you're barred
And don't ever come back.'
Santa said 'What is the reason for the ban?'
Came the reply 'Last time you were here
You drank my sherry and ate the mince pies
Then you had the cheek to criticise my beer'
Santa said 'To be fair in my defense
I only did what a ticker should do
And I was really generous
Giving that rank ale a two.
But the landlord became annoyed
And threw Santa out on the street
Where he fell upon his bum
In the wintery rain and sleet.
So Santa went to the Snowman Arms
Where his welcome was cheery and warm
He even received a kiss on the lips
From regular All In Sean.
Categories:
visited, celebration, christmas, funny, humor,
Form:
Free verse
Today I wrestled with the beast.
Thought of suicide
And the solitude it would bring.
From a window I watched the snow fall
And I was envious of its simplicity.
How it could make even the ugliest of things look beautiful.
I prayed to the Gods and asked them if they could make this madness that
Raged and burned inside me beautiful too?
I wanted the darkness that fills my soul to shine on it
And to see what would happen.
But the silent screams inside my head deafened me into submission.
And so I turned away.
Broken.
Alone.
Empty.
Tonight I will dream with the angels
And hope the beast spares at least a little flesh when I wake.
I have swallowed enough medication to numb ten elephants,
But the pain still finds a way to kick me in the balls;
To bring me to my knees.
To squeeze the last bit of life out of this wretched, tortured body.
The snowflakes fall a little thicker now,
The madness a little darker.
And I wait,
Silently
For the next wave of despair to wash over me…
Categories:
visited, dark, depression, mental illness,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
"There must be some kinda way to find out here"
Said the seeker to the stealer
"There's too much confusion
I'm struggling to be the reveal"
"Conglomerate men, they drink my wine
Politicians dig my earth
None will level on the line
Because none of them are worth it" hey
"There is reason to get excited"
The seeker, he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us
Who feel our governments a joke"
"Now you and I, we've lived through this
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now
The hour is getting late", hey
Hey
All along the watchtower
Liars kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants too
Outside in the cold distance
The C.I.A. did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl, hey
All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower on that tragic September day
We need some investigation, for someones has to pay
Now you and I, we've lived through this, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, before this generations to late
We will always remember, and remember who we lost that day
We need some investigation, for someone has to pay
All along the watchtower, a nation in mournful cries
We are not so blind, it's amazing what you can see when you close your eyes
All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower
James, we lost you in Kensington, England. The Star Spangled Banner will
live long in your past. I can't say the same for some of your American so
called country people. Thank you for allowing me to gracefully use . . . .
'All Along the Watchtower' it's blatantly obvious someone was not.
To all the lost in the 9/11 tragedy, my thoughts will always be with you.
All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix, with some lyrics changed
Categories:
visited, angst, art, death, dedication,
Form:
Lyric
My market value will increase
When I am resting in a coffin
Dead people don’t talk about the stock market
There never has been a better investment
For my dead body
My family had no other use for it
Burning a dead body gives you ashes
But you have to travel far
To spread them in holy places
Categories:
visited, funeral,
Form:
I blow a trumpet which is my pen
Unrighteousness must end
As we Prepare for our heavenly home
Love turns away ungodliness
Abolishing that which is wrong
Lifting up the lives of others
Men women sons and daughters
Locking hands in the other
Joined in one mind
Says a sweet voice from behind
One body knitted together
Says a light that shines from heaven
Categories:
visited, faith
Form:
Pastoral
The cold has settled
on the city
from my room I see
street lamps and the
headlights of cars
riding by on the highway
They are moving, moving
Where to?
Some to warm homes
some to lovers
some to friends
I see the lights on
the bridge which spans
the East River
An emblem of man's achievements
They stand proudly against the cold
I am moved to pick up a pen
and record the
sensations I feel
when I contemplate
the asphalt homeland
Alone in my apartment
I reach out to
my fellow city dwellers
Hope they get to their destinations
safely
It is night time
and a blanket of darkness
covers the city
Tomorrow is another day
But for now
I take joy in the knowledge
That there are thousands upon thousands
Who are contemplating this city
along with me
Categories:
visited, city, light, urban,
Form:
Free verse
I hope my title won’t shock you
For my words are perfectly true
No I wasn’t seeking a roll in the hay ...
I visited a brothel in ancient Pompeii
Lupanar is Latin for brothel
And its translation is wolf den
The ladies were known as 'she wolves'
Lupa is the word used to describe them
The Lupanare had ten tiny rooms
Each with a small stone bed
It would be covered with a mattress of straw
So the lupa would not hurt her head!
Outside each room was an erotic fresco
The pictures were really quite shocking
For two loaves of bread and some wine
It would pay for the Lupa you’re knocking!
Information from our tour guide Franchesca
09 08 17
Categories:
visited, history, holiday, humorous, lust,
Form:
Rhyme
Everybody was horrified of Paul's scruffy looks
with dirt and mud smeared all over his wrinkled face,
and his long nose with dark spots on its tip;
and a grave digger matched that image,
but he was the nicest person on planet earth:
hard-working, estimable, amicable and honest.
After the day's work was done, Paul stared
at the empty lots and whispered to himself,
" Soon I'll be in one of them...I feel it coming! "
One unlucky afternoon he was standing
on the edge of a newly dug-up grave and accidently
slipped and fell into the twenty-feet excavation;
no screams for help were heard...he was dead!
That same afternoon, there was a burial
and as the corpse's coffin was lowered into the grave,
Father Michael spotted a body lying on the bottom of it,
and it resembled that of Paul....suddenly police
were notified and minutes later a fire truck arrived
to the dreary scene. Then two young firefighters
lowered themselves into the pitch-dark grave by holding
onto sturdy ropes, and without much effort,
they pulled his bruised and broken body:
he was pronounced dead at two-thirty.
Paul had a near-death experience, one of the most
incredible ones: he visited heaven, the place of bliss!
And as he climbed the gold stairway, he heard many voices
of those he knew in the previous life...they chanted glorifying God,
who was seated on an ivory throne surrounded by Archangels,
Saints and the Prophets whom he remembered from his Bible readings.
Categories:
visited, death, devotion, faith, father,
Form:
Narrative
Paul had a near-death experience,
one of the most incredible ones...
he visited Heaven: the place of bliss!
And as he climbed the gold stairway,
he heard many familiar voices he had
known in the previous life...they happily
chanted glorifying God, who was seated
on an ivory throne surrounded by Archangels,
Saints and Prophets whom he remembered
from his Bible readings. He tried to look at
God's face, but he was blinded by an intense light...
more brilliant than the sun itself, then Jesus
approached with his out-stretched arms.
Paul smiled and was elated to have found salvation,
but Jesus kindly said to him, " Paul, your time
hasn't come yet, return to Earth and tell them! "
And briefly pausing He continued, " When that time
comes, your honorable name will be written
in the Book of Life, and angels will carry your new body
on their swift wings and you will enter Paradise! "
Paul's face was expressive of disappointment
and bitterness and weeping replied, " The people
of Earth deride a grave digger so groggy and grubby,
and they mock him with their delirious laughs;
I would rather be dead than return to them! "
" Go and show them your mercy! " Jesus commanded him.
Paul had only minutes before he would be buried,
so he rushed back and surprisingly saw a large crowd
attending his service as Father Michael, the Chapel's priest,
performed the last rites by splashing Holy Water
in and around the shadowy grave. They heard a knock
coming from inside of the coffin...Paul's voice became louder,
" I am alive, not dead...let me out! " Everyone was horrified
and shocked, but Father Michael ordered the mortician to open
the casket and let Paul out. Jubilation filled the chilly air,
and streaks of light filtered through the murky clouds...their shouts
were heard as far as the outskirts of town: Paul was alive!"
I sat with Paul the day after under the shade of a fragrant pine,
and he told me about his visit to Heaven with tremendous joy
and fervent faith. He admitted that he was wrong not to have
shown them his compassion and with the sincerest smile
he proclaimed, " My anger and grudge have vanished;
I have forgiven them...I am so glad to have returned! "
Entered in the ramblig Poet's contest,
" In Search Of The Human Mind"
Assignment: A Near-Death Experience
Categories:
visited, death, dedication, faith, friendship,
Form:
Narrative
Visited the Whitney*
For the Hoppers – what a treat!
A gathering of works with which
Few artists can compete.
Yet in a separate little room
A different treasure lay –
A film of “Calder’s Circus”
With its figures on display.
For Alexander Calder,
He of mostly-mobiles fame,
Put together, out of wire,
And deserving of acclaim
Every animal and acrobat
That we’d expect to see
At a circus, bringing them to life.
(At least, he did for me.)
With a twinkle in his eye,
He made the dogs and horses prance,
While the trapeze artists flew
And Fanni did her sexy dance.
There’s an elephant and lion
And a strong man and some seals,
Every figure bringing laughter
And how-did-he-do-that squeals.
Though I went to see the Hoppers,
I was thrilled with them, despite
Thinking Calder’s wire circus
Brought to me the most delight.
*The Whitney Museum of Art, Manhattan,
which currently has an Edward Hopper exhibit.
Categories:
visited, appreciation, art,
Form:
Rhyme
That day when I visited God
He was in far away Heaven
He drove no Toyota or Ford
Neither did he had human in his oven
I called to him, Lord
As if calling my nephew Kelvin
He had a big book-like book on his lap
The number of pages well I wouldn’t know
From his works he must be thirsty and needs a cup
To fetch wine of which he can sip slow
Close to his main chamber is a big tap
Through which holiness flow
He sat on a golden beautiful chair
And pomade himself with a judgement cream
From his rewards to the sudden tear
Judgement is heavier than a beam
As he flipped pages with no love or care,
My eyes opened and saw it was all a dream.
Categories:
visited, beautiful, beauty, bible, creation,
Form:
Imagism
It visited me at last,
The one which I loath to call on,
Even for my worst enemy,
Like a plantain stem fallen on its sword on bed.
Trembling,shivering,
Unable to walk,
unable to sit,
unable to think,
Unable to breath,
Oh! the tip of my tiny hair follicles,
crying song of pain,
sure, I will come back strong,
But can't vanish without a note,
Goodnight PS,
At least for a fortnight.
Categories:
visited, 10th grade,
Form:
Free verse