Best Whereto Poems


The Whispered Song

The warrior lays her weary head, 
With heavy heart she cannot bear, 
Burning tears stream down her face, 
As whispered memories touch the ear.

Her armour tarnished by remorse, 
Her battle-cry a wimpered row, 
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude, 
Will never know forgiveness now.

The song began two score ago, 
When two came knocking at her door, 
In need of refuge from the world, 
Of that, and love, and little more.

Forced to fight for every smile, 
Her only solace found in song, 
She longed for love to rescue her, 
And plant her where she could belong.

Jealous tongues are seldom kind, 
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love, 
The caged canary only sings, 
When coaxed to praise from up above.

For the steely spine that now I own, 
Forever shall I grateful be, 
A gift from her, and from her own. 
Courage mounted inwardly.

I'll not forget how I have loved thee, 
And youthful memories I will prize, 
Til on the shore of His forgiveness, 
Whereto now, we both shall rise.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Funeral Urn

“we look for that that does not come and go
it cannot be organic form, subject to decay 
thoughts and beliefs are fickle, how little we know
yet come what may, our inner child continues to play”


The 'umbilical cord', 
hereby symbolic, 
its severance
where
initiated,
a soul of three,
and then much more. 

Growing up was an 
in-depth shared 
furtherance,
whereupon,
directives were encountered,
either embraced or tossed aside.

Time and again, instant moments,
encouraging considerations,
imbued ponderance,
whereto,
we tether ourselves
to a sizeable pole of justifications.

Hail to a fitness club, or a cab to a McDonald's,
intermittent intervals, slim down or fatten up,
choice batters about a pole that remains,
until life expectance,
leans awkward,
wherefore
for time indulgence,
slacks a major facet as the pole evolves minor,
for one's immediate concerns, lies elsewhere, a priority.

All the while, the pole was steadfast but never silent
taking a backseat to the urgencies of the moment
significance tallies the hours near,
wherein
one now realizes that time is fleeting,
wonders how one's pole has shaped itself, was it worth their while.

At that instant, open their eyes 
and see the poles that are
standing around them
bedside so they can
measure their
worth truly.
Where
we mete
out ourselves
to whom we truly 
Blessed Assurance.
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Concrete

Premium Member Sanctuary

There is a refuge, sweet, whereto I rush,

          (Where all but clever words would be remiss),

               When cheeks of evening sky begin to blush,

     As setting sun bestows a goodnight kiss.



I go there with my pen to thus inspire,

          And churn my muddled thoughts to acumen,

               To winnow passion's embers into fire,

     Or fan a flaring phrase of 'what' and 'when'.



It feeds to me a menu, rich and rare,

          Of musing souls as mine, that seek to plumb ...

               The depths of rapture, beauty and despair,

     A feast of all we've been and may become.


          But ...


No meal is perfect, that I must bequeath ...
     
     And this soup has sharks stirring ... underneath.




~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Shark In the Soup" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausen, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~  in the "A Stunner January 2018" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Sponsor ... N/A'd on January 24, 2018, in the "Premiere Contest Number 390 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor.
Form: Sonnet


Premium Member Whereto -- the Wonder

Remember long ago Decembers?
When first you saw Tchaikovsky's 'Nutcracker Suite?'
  Sitting motionless, spellbound, at the dancers' feats.

Remember long ago Decembers?  
When first you saw Van Cliburn or Yitzchak Perlman compete?
  Carnegie Hall SRO, hushed, marveling at musical mastery so sweet. 

Remember long ago Decembers?  
When you saw your first Disney animation?
Cinderella ... Snow White ... or Pinocchio perchance?
  When you left the cinema, you just wanted to up and dance.

For isn't it true?
When you wish upon a star
Won't your heart's desire always come to you?
Form: Rhyme

Dope Led Me Here To Boast About the Holy Host

DOPE LED ME  HERE TO BOAST ABOUT THE HOLY HOST

I was there when at first you were enraptured
But me, God and The Holy Ghost knew you were captured
I  was the only one who tried desperately to teach you
However my arms are far too short to reach you

So go ahead and shoot the s**t
I don’t mind it even a little bit
But don’t come to me when your skin is crawling
Or when the source of your habit is calling

Don’t ask me to end  your painful sweat
Because you need a lesson you’ll never forget
You have to see what it feels like when you stop
Because every time the powder told you to hop you’d hop
 
Everyone knew I was once like you but I got smart
And I was there when your savior told you not to start
You can begin by being beautiful and rich with greed
But soon your veins will cry out for what they need

They require what Jesus advised you not to try
When I was the only one who gave a damn if you were to die
The Son Of Man begged me to beg you to please say “no”
But you were enraptured and then captured with no whereto go
           © 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Form: Quatrain

Blood Words, Legends of the Wolves

Yea, victors jest. They out-sped the cast of hunger’s cave.
Their cantors, ragged kept, did reach an faithful end.
They in the din o’ drizzle laugh, licking cool drams from stone,
as had they crawled o’er hot pools bled to prod ‘n prattle.

And who’d, when quenched, a saunter risk simply to gaze at greener gray,
who if by haze be fraught, need merely fathom sky?
Lest be displeasured he to whom above could clouds be prone to tattle,
go but shy requests, voiced dryly into azure.

For so the victims passed, betrayed by breeze and snitch of brush,
though Him on High, with just demand, they had beseeched.
Each life a tale brought to lie, defaced, in scattered, muddy tomes.
Torn is the silver lace, which once linked bone to bone.

Yet risen, too, had wanton sighs, whereof his Mightiest to ask,
whilst the ground, as should it care, received the rasps.
For what doth emptiness command and what the unseen sovereign willeth
are left matters later glibly to be bantered.

Know oft’ the hunt finds one befuddled, spelled by guiles of a wraith.
No taunt of tail waves, no wake of twig gives sway.
With head to hang, his rack he gathers in a push to halt
to stand bequeathed a chide of birds and chipmunk heckles.

There, the timber rout delays with naught but mettle left to drain,
as the mars of rock and thistle mark the wait.
Chafe of paw, tongue feathered fowl, the foiled dashes stream to words,
whereto the blood, in ruddy tones, by droplets trickles.
© Eric Dent  Create an image from this poem.
Form:


Premium Member Parable of the Lost Sheep and Coin

A shepherd loses

one sheep of a hundred, goes

and looks for the one, rejoice

when found, or of the

woman losing one coin of

ten and when found, rejoiceth


*As scriptured
Jesus spoke to welcomed sinners and feasted with them, loudly enough to be heard by the abiders of the Laws, who was in the midst, and they were critical of him to be amongst the wretched crowd, ergo, the parables, whereto, leaving the ninety-nine righteous souls, and seek out the one lost soul, or not be denied the full value of your worth, and seek out that within you that has been lost, and once found, you are made whole again, indeed, a righteous soul.


Date: 06/23/2019
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sedoka

Daydreams Adoor

while we work on days to be seen…
.
.
”… we share
a very wonderful dream …”

indeed
it would mean
global leaders
coming clean
pulling back deals
to push an ideal
about working
for what is really
in the people’s
very best real
“interest”

“and yes we’re due
and yes we expect
the very best of you”

hey mac…
“there is no deth”
and zero deal
if you ‘steal’ it
it’s the least
you can do
to truly know it
...that’s the only
way it works

“a pope stepped up
and called all monks”

it’s not about land
or what where is who
it’s about a stand
that’s taken
called “true”

”…to do lazy
as the Romans do…”

is to do a bit crazy
as the cornballs did
and play a little hazy
on the game boards lid

so I
got ‘busy’ with it
and danced my gig
slowed it all down
and popped a hood
had no idea
whereto be look
but took a Chance
and cracked a book

“the core
be in legions”

as it is all ways
to be heard before
a song from a cord
comes for a score

“and peering close
there too
be no knows
if they’d not verse
in an overdose
of friendly verbose”

...whoa! in a truce!
a robust and a
lasting trust

“to build a burger
in such an order
as to burn a bush…”

is to guide a collar
in such a way
as to turn

a tush…

;)

”…it’s MY brain we’re in
Mr.E…”

.
“there’s a corona on the stella” 

”... she served two
and just had one…”
before ten.
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

What Running Has Done For Me

I recognize they spot my back I undeniably do

Running keeps you in shape, when you’re stressing run, and my watch signals time to escape

When the handgun is fired you dash off leaving the opposition thinking what is he up to

Say goodbye leaving them high and dry my back spells FORSAKE, yet they stare at me with rage like I’ve made a mistake

What to do, untie my shoelaces, are you anticipating on an undo, or anticipating on a screw-up for you to try to outdo

For the sake of a snake, what do you hate, what’s the motive to be fake

Over a plain pair of twins my running shoes

That’s been gruelingly traveling nature even uncommon icky lakes

I can dip into your conscious picturing you with a hatchet waving for my shoes, but you calculated clumsily slashing both my ankles saying,” Timber.”
(Piles of Saliva Blew)

Your grin of achievement you acting as if you accomplished so much striking your chest like an irate ape

I get right back up, lace them back up, my ankles are as exceptionally as new

You jump up in a cold sweat in disbelief nagging your dreams for a remake

Was in arms reach of me but I flew, can’t grab me out of your hair like lice and shampoo, the loser mentality is a severe flu

Running through each state has my opposition on skates, I can notice the pearly gold gates and in my eyes view it’s straight

My spirit is renew, something bout me withdrew, and my feet is like whereto

What running has done for me is added a great deal of hate on my plate, have me up for debate, and beyond all this negativity I remain with a similar understanding that running is great.
- Loverboi
Form: ABC

Premium Member Dun Sky, Undone

Summer skies. 

So blue.  Such blues. 
So blue. 

Whitepuffs idly swoop by,
never idling. On the move. 
For bluer skies?

A part of the sky fell



out today. 
  A tiny bit. 
A tiny tiny bit. 
Hardly matters, this bit 
except, I suppose, to it. 
(And I.)

And you?
This blue. 
Fell from the 

                      sky,

today. 


I held it in my hand. 
I cried out.  I looked around. 
(I may have pled.)
I held the blue dead
sky in my palm, to my heart,
and tried to find another
piece in this life
its place.  
I tried. 
It died. 

I cried out.  It did not cry out. 
I looked around.  It did not look around. 
Wherefrom did it come?
Whereto shall it go?
Whereto do I aim my questions, too?

A bit of the blue sky fell from the blue sky, today.
A bit of the blue sky fell to silent still soil, today.
I have no questions for 
men in hats. 
I have no quarrel with pretend gods. 
I have no qualm with calm fate. 
I just want to know -
I need to wonder at -

If a speck of feathered blue sky
falls from the sky,
what is left
of sky?
What is left of us. 
What is left to us?

I wonder. 
Where the blue sky fell
is there now 
black?
Is there now white?

I set the sky upon a stone. 


-ShhDragon

Premium Member The Hawaiianism of Ho'Oponopono

Image of Black Sand & Sand provided by Pixabay.

The Hawaiianism of Ho'oponopono

A word, astir, in undulating waves surges and awash a clear open black shoreline of Hawaii nei, as it recedes in cycles dashing back to an instant, springing forth that word grasped first in mumblings made by a question from what comes later. 

Hawaiiana has amongst the narrowed rudiments containing 12 alphabets; 7 consonants; H - K - L - M - N - P - W, plus 5 vowels; A - E - I - O - U. In its wake, Hawaiians have improvised their grammar by accommodating words to include more than one meaning, it is known as, "equivocal". A different way of supplementing their shortfall via letterings is by repeating words, whereto, two aspects emerge, firstly and the most prevalent variant of Hawaiiana repeats is, word pluralization, simply by adding the 's' at the end, sort of speak. Then secondly is word emphasization, or best to be known as, word empowerment. 

"Ho'o" is an energetic prefix, in and of itself though insignificant in the Hawaiiana context as a stand-alone word, implying "to make or making". In this example, the base word, "pono", is an equivocal word. In no respective order, first; moral qualities, uprightness, and decency. Second; a clear understanding, completeness, and being thorough. Third; correctly fulfilled, proper procedures, and accuracy. Fourth; prosperity, welfare, benefit, and equity. There remain several meanings that essentially are extensions of the foregoing. 

Nevertheless, when the base word is repeated, then "Ho'oponopono" basically means to, "make right a wrong". The Hebrews call it "Kaphar".

Back to mumbling and anticipation as a kid faced up to grownup legs. A worn grimace is yon about pause steadily. Quizzative looks around the room and tempts a peek past the formidable figure that blocks nearly the whole of him. The aged utter clarity, "E pule ho'oponopono kakou", (Let us pray for correcting our wrongdoing), afterward, an amended kid embraces the closing answer, "Ae, ho'omaika'i ia oe", (Yes, victory is yours). On the whims of a pendulum, Ho'oponopono wanes as a learnt man winds a clock up to speed.

2021 May 28
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Didactic

Premium Member The Bowman's Shaft

The Bowman's Shaft

Solo archer gathers mist of amour clouds, dipping venturous arrow tips in a veiled concocted potion, drowning its mettle in a whimsical bliss of a dreamt liquefied mirage that defines the elixir,

Cupids errant arrow is liberated openly o'er the arc of a rainbow, exuberantly hunting its e'er sought Terra, whereto, it scarcely flutters passed feathered twain turtledoves,

Trifle off-track as projected, titillating a canine whose tail waggles unceasingly as its tongue laps remarkable welcoming faces,

Then piercingly redefines a right-angle course, that mids passionately, a well-managed bramble with shoots flowering in vivid red velvets,

Calculably sailing o'er gray-haired couple, whose one hand hugging canes and their free hands locking each other,

Promised target a fused-kissed envelope proffering treasured eloquence of, Missing You, in numerous expressions, introducing assorted confidences perceived by yearning intrepid bluish eyes whose heart grows e'er fonder.

2019 November 04

*2nd Place*

Metaphor of Love
~~Bobby May
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Adventures of Momotaro

This is a story of an old couple who had no children of their own.
One day while the old woman was washing clothes at a nearby river, she saw a large rosy peach floating downstream.
She got ahold of it to give to the old man.
Yet, before he had a bite of it, the rosy peach burst open.
It had no large seed in it, but a baby boy.
The baby ate the peach and became very strong and healthy.
The old couple took care of him as he grew to be the strongest and healthiest baby in the whole countryside.
The old couple named him 'Momotaro', the Peach Boy, a secret kept only to themselves.
One day, Momotaro asked his mother, the old woman, to make him a bagful of 'kimi-dango', a Japanese millet dumpling, for him to take on a journey to Ogre's Island and take their treasure from them.
He left the couple with the kimi-dango bag tied to his waist.
He came upon a monkey who says to him, "Kia, Kia!" Momotaro tells him of his task, whereto, the monkey said he'll tag along for a kimi-dango.
Momotaro agreed and off they went until they came upon a pheasant who says, "Ken, Ken!" Momotaro tells him of his task, whereto, the pheasant said he'll tag along for a kimi-dango.
Momotaro agreed and off they went until they came upon a dog who says, "Bow, Wow, Wow!" Momotaro tells him of his task, whereto, the dog said he'll tag along for a kimi-dango.
Momotaro agreed and off they went until they came upon Ogre Island where Momotaro reveals his plan.
The pheasant must flu over the castle gate and peck at the Ogre's, and the monkey must climb over the castle wall and pinch the Ogre's and the dog and I will break the bolt and the dog will bite the Ogre's and I will fight with the Ogre's.
A great battle then ensued.
"Kia, Kia!", "Ken, Ken!", "Bow Wow Wow!", was heard from sun to sun, ending with all the ogre's tied and the treasure was shared between the four.


Date: 06/16/2019
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Irreconcilable Paradox

*Image of Paradox of a Mindfoolness.


Irreconcilable Paradox

The midnight sun casts about clear shadows amidst a
     twilight noon, 'tis yesterday.
The windy gale brews, astir none to wake the quietude,
     America's Guy Fawkes Day.
Watched I the beautiful orange sunset rise up above the
     rolling hills flat opened field.
Leaving my umbrella sorted at home, danced I out into
     the deluged rain spots yield. 


Ambling I briskly stood alone in a crowd, as a quandary
     cleared ere me from behind.
Menacing maintaining all matters determined found I at
     a total loss to ideas sublime. 
Brooding of the things I yet can do yesterday, I hurried 
     along to finalize nothing else.
In my rush to the airport, boards I, a train that went the
     other way past fields of elms.


My new schedule should get me to my appointment in
     the nick of time, one day late.
Know I will get that new job for 'tis the first time work I
     there as of prior' year to date.
Been unemployed for straight five years, works I out and
     in exclusively hands-on daily.
My legs are stronger as a direct cause of that makes me
     feel sick for I am e'er healthy.


Speaking on health, the car insurance is fully paid but
     wonders I, much is still owed.
On the subject of owing, our daughter's graduation day is
     today, four candles a-glowed.
The court speaking, arrangement rose criminal charges
     the prosecution, never violets.
Friends and I went to a drive-in, saw an old film just cast,
     our Model-T's all on autopilots.


In the end, we all walked out as unconditional strangers,
     familiarities sensed a oneness.
E.g.; If hail treasures of an emptied chest wouldst naught
     crusheth e'er emphatic dream.
Thence bandied wordings lay straightforwardly ere wee
     tilt scale rove archaic extreme.
The farcical tale wove abstractly, yet absolutes resolved
     parodies sage distinctiveness.


2022 February 15
*1st Place*
This or That, Vol 10
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2022 March 02


*NOTE: I've portrayed the extremities of paradoxes distinctive values as self-defining based on its own merits, my placement via its close proximity to its opposite, validifies that point, whereto, abstracts become absolutes distinguishing their individualism.
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Satisfying Cold and Hot

***NOTE: Poem posted on the above video. If you need to read it again, just right click on the video and then click on 'Loop' on the top of the drop-down menu, whereto, the video will continue to scroll--click 'Full Screen' for best viewing.

SONG: Voices from Hawaii, 'Doxology' sung acapella in Hawaiian

GIFY: By FG Proteins

'Satisfying Cold and Hot'

2020 December 08
By Will K
"Mele Kalikimaka"
ALOHA!
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Nonet

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