Best Whiled Poems
I remember how you looked that day,
How happy, young and free.
Your sun bleached hair, your sun bronzed skin,
I watched you from the lea.
You never saw me standing there.
I'm glad it stayed that way.
We never spoke, we never met,
But I came every day.
I came to watch you cast your net.
You were my mystery man.
I whiled away the live long day,
Watching from the sand.
You seemed to have all you could need,
The surf, a boat, a net.
I close my eyes and click my heels,
And I can see you yet.
A poet I am not
I woke up today to blue sapphire skies
with ribbons of fuchsia and crimson hues
Having my minds reveries realized
With mental imbroglios I'm imbued
I whiled away the day, in purple haze
entranced in cerebral meditations
Pondering the adjectives that portrays
awesome celestial revelations
I searched in vain for the words to describe
scenes of ethereal spectral visions
There was no way for my heart to transcribe
broken thoughts from synaptic collisions
I saw beauty that transcends conscious thought
Words fail me, so... a poet I am not
March 09,2017
For Brian Strands contest!
I’ve been so many places; traveled down some roads --
Mixed with a thousand faces where the Ganges overflowed.
I've crossed majestic mountains; walked some valleys too --
Tossed coins into fountains, but I never saw them -- till you.
I've traveled endless highways; left countless roads behind --
Walked along some byways that still linger on my mind.
I've come back home from St. Tropaz; walked the beach at Malibu.
I lived awhile in Monterrey, but I never saw them -- till you.
Till you I never saw the sunset on Biscayne.
Till you I never heard a gentle summer rain.
I've stood beneath the tower when Big Ben chimed at noon.
I've whiled away some hours under a great big Texas moon.
I spent some time at Waikiki; roamed the wilds of Timbuktu.
I've sailed on all the seven seas, but I never saw them -- till you.
Writer's Note:
I added 2 lines to the 2 line bridge and set it to music.. It's Posted later under Till You (Lyric)
A blanket laying, book-reading, lemonade sipper
turns a page
There is a ghost of sadness in this place
shared madness, despair and rage
Somewhere in the sandy and dreaded dune
convicted breath feels as warm as the month of June
She feels the depression that once enveloped
a once upon a time, mild-mannered man’s illness
Now there is only stillness and something
in the Saugatuck breeze that feels like a gasp
Old scribbles on his walls of silence
seemed, or once was deemed prophetic
“I was wasted just like today was”
a mother’s son whiled away the time
Too forsaken and forgotten to find rhyme
abbreviated sighs and another day’s tally mark
For him, fate…
the future came much too late
The unholy hole handed a mother’s son the shivers
Her lemonade is coldly soothing
sour moments taken in without regrets
Moving her toes in the warm sands once tread
by a man with invasive demons in his head
It is oddly unclear what once happened here.
She turns another page long after he could have.
A sprig of flowers danced the dawn
Tip toed merrily across the lawn
The delicate ankle softly trips
As the dew her ethereal sips
Around her feet the birds did sing
From her smile the sun did bring
April showers and tippling rainbows
From her eyes the suggestion grows
Colours burst and blossoms fall
The gentle whisper of natures call
In the orchard we sat and whiled
Both at peace and dreams beguiled
And as the sun sets
In orange and red rivulets
The suns fall is the moons call
Stars are bright as moonbeams fall
While she skips and dances beams
I hold my heart, collate my dreams
Of a sprig of flowers forever mine
Of setting suns and dawns divine
loving sister
I write to you as a writer
know you are in school
Because you are still a big fool
Your being wise
wholly lies
On your book
that you should keenly look
open every page sister
read every text sister
Get that wisdom
Embrace that wisdom.
sister write every word
paint every picture
for those words
that picture
pictures your future
so don't sleep
for you might slip.
it is now 7 months
in your form three
I check at my wrist
my watch is ticking
click by click
time is whiled away
sister use every chance
exploit every minute
for you are worth
living this earth.
I have to say
that day
u got the accident
I realized you are a light
to several hearts
embrace that and shine
For you are a true NDHINE
you are the MARVELOUS GRIFFINS
Realize your potential
for you are exponential....
come next year
I want to praise you dear
I want to hear the people calling out
I want to hear the world shout
I want to see your parents Marvel
For they gave birth to Marvelous Marvelous.
May you live long and shine bright like white.
Sea the wight-capped waives rolling inn the see;
here the howling wynds, wile I’m standing hear,
whale and forme hi waives. Theirs eh jumping wail-
tale upp inn the ayre! This should make gneiss tail
two tel wen eye get holm. Butt now theirs too
blew wales inn wiaves- there water spouts just blue!
Whether getting worse, kneed two sea weather
it's my thyme too lieve since wynd now blows it’s
grate, whiled sounds awl across the see, witch great
allowed and shriek. Could bee, I’m knot aloud
write hear two stay- dew knot want gnus too right,
“Sum man fell inn the see and payed the some
witch cost his life from storms angry whiled which.”
Week legs mite make mi sync and fall; eh weak
wood pass before they fined mi with eh would
bored inn my grippe from roe boat beet and board
bye waives and whild wynds that kame and flue buy.
Eye no, its thyme too lieve, cum back wen aye
cee com, and eye can stay eh wile two sea
wails jump inn waives without the wynd’s whiled whales.
April 7, 2015
~2nd Place~
Contest: Only Homo’s Allowed
Sponsor: Jerry T. Curtis
Judged: 04/30/2015
(Homophones)
I’ve been so many places; traveled down some roads --
Mixed with a thousand faces where the Ganges overflowed.
I've crossed majestic mountains; walked some valleys too --
Tossed coins into fountains, but I never saw them -- till you.
I've traveled endless highways; left countless roads behind --
Walked along some byways that still linger on my mind.
I've come back home from St. Tropaz; walked the beach at Malibu.
I lived awhile in Monterrey, but I never saw them -- till you.
(Bridge)
Till you I never saw the sunset on Biscayne.
Till you I never heard a gentle summer rain.
I’ve been so many places I’d like to go back to
But only if you come (to/with) me and make them all come true.
I've stood beneath the tower when Big Ben chimed at noon.
I've whiled away some hours under a great big Texas moon.
I spent some time at Waikiki; roamed the wilds of Timbuktu.
I've sailed on all the seven seas, but I never saw them -- till you.
(Instrumental break)
(Repeat bridge)
Empty
A hammock swings to and fro in the wind
As if propelled by an unseen foot.
A tricycle lies abandoned by the porch,
One handle grip with its multicolored
Streamers long gone, a wheel missing,
Its once-resplendent pink paint eaten with rust.
The “For Sale” is old. It sways tipsily,
Tilting in the wind, covered in graffiti.
Where is the little girl who used to play
In this lonely and forsaken yard?
Where is the boy who whiled away the hours
Reading and dreaming in the hammock?
Where is the mother who tended these gardens,
Now full of weeds, and the father whose children
Greeted him joyfully at the end of the day?
What calamitous series of disasters
Befell this family, to force them out,
To make them leave the home they loved?
Maybe they sleep now in cheap motels and
Eat their frugal meal at a breakfast bar
Or live in a noisy, overcrowded shelter.
Or do they move from place to place,
Rootless, living in a car, dreaming of that
Joy-filled home they left behind, a lifetime ago?
The staring house now stands bereft,
Bewildered, wondering - where is the family that
Once lived and loved inside its empty shell?
It seems to wait in loneliness, pining for
Those happier days of oh, so long ago,
While the hammock swings to and fro in the wind.
Dad was in the Air Force so we moved quite frequently
Living lots of places there were many things to see
The island of Bermuda was my favorite place by far
Twenty-two square miles,didn't take you long by car
Living near a perfume factory,smelling passion flowers
Bicycling and sailing,we whiled away the hours
Watching deep-sea expeditions right beyond our yard
Keeping us kids entertained sure wasn't very hard!
Playing tetherball with kids of every kind of race
Taught me of diversity,put a smile upon my face
Those are such great memories,things I won't forget
Living in Bermuda was the best adventure yet!
**for Michael Falotico's contest"A Change Of View"
I danced amongst the damp verde fern
As rare as the day this ***** was borne
My flesh did contrast
My eyes stood wide
As i smiled upon Devons devine delicate form
I tinkered along the enticing stream
Which guided my humble
Naked frame
She glistened and smiled
Tinkered and whiled
Within full moon I lay unashamed
I tiptoed beneath her curtains of green
As I followed the sheep to shore
A cavern a cliff a viscous veracious
Biting sea
Oh beauteous
Bounty
I could ne-er ignore
I knelt by her hoof as the sea bit my calves
As my tongue encircled her juice
The finest and sweetest of spring water
Mother Nature would dare to produce
It trickled it teased it willingly pleased
The palette upon my knife
Oh sacred Lady
Mother Nature
Sweet
So unassuming
Im yours till the end of my life
Be a Big Surprise
Where would you actually try to send us?
That all really has seemed so tremendous
I could prepare either poem or a painting
All loved and never started complaining.
Prayed before I painted with my head bowed
By God with many talents had been endowed
That drew a crowd who I painted a picture of
And with my picture did fall so deeply in love.
My imagination instantly started to stretch
Somewhere around there has to be a catch
To heart piercing picture I did complete
Of lovely lady you definitely wanted to meet.
Green outside was both grass and clover
And then thought about June over and over
We both were married and ended up being
All men with women must be agreeing.
For his birthday bought him some flowers
And then we whiled away all of the hours
Looked at each other straight in our eyes
When we meet Horn's will be a big surprise.
Plann on seeing the Cooper's on May 20th
and 21st is Terry's birthday.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Last name here, First step there, only one allay...
Vestige sagacity, flaxen ochroid genes skitter down,
Diddle drizzled dints to acquiesce an ugly axis,
Whet of whiled grime, tips on me thus to dawn,
In hands of lonely children, bid these lips bye-bye...
Bequest oaths, for ode by love is a home plight,
Coalescing pivots crux fine fortunes through,
Docent tasks fathom nature's dew of grief,
Tons of totes vex abstruse wills to loot,
But virtuous lenity glib adept heartfelt reefs,
Gait jiffy haps with tribes so grim time tears,
God's flanges tarry finales who lope o'er losers,
But foremost, guerdon sojourn souls aiding others...
Accouter the outfitter by concords of trust,
Master a gentlemen and woman of good taste,
Upon Sunrise and Sunset, leave wise and do weep,
The bequeath of ensuing generations propound...
Upon birth and grave, life and death, -but more life...
Within the quiet morning hours,
Beneath the ticking of the clock,
An old man whiled away the time,
And reminisced of days forgot
His face was worn from many years,
Although his eyes seemed still unchanged;
Like leather were his heavy hands,
Wrapped tight about his gnarled cane
A fire roared inside the hearth,
Though from his window snow fell fast;
‘Too fast to shovel now’, he thought,
As he peered through the speckled glass
And with the thought there came a fear,
For he knew there was no one home
To aid him when the snow appeared
Too deep to venture on his own
‘Soon there won’t be a soul in sight,
Save but for mine, though I’ll go too
And meet the endless sea of white,
Lest my own house becomes my tomb’
But as the old man tried to stand,
He found his strength begin to wane;
He fiercely pushed with both his hands,
But could not rise to meet his cane
In panic now, he cursed aloud
For all the years he’d sat and slept
Upon the chair that kept him down,
For now it pained him ‘til he wept
The fire below began to die,
As embers glowed and turned to black,
While outside snow began to rise,
Now filling every nook and crack
‘It isn’t fair!’ the old man cried,
As he tried desperately to stand;
An idle life of sitting by
Had finally caught up to him
‘I should have left when I still could;
I should have overcame my fear;
But now no gentle hand will ease
The passing of my spirit here’
Thus, as the morning hours grew late,
His labored groans grew faint and stopped;
His feeble home encased in snow,
Beneath the ticking of the clock.
A funny thing happened on the way to my house.
Another balmy spring evening whiled away in the park,
Swinging through examination blues and unrequited crushes.
Those rocky teenage years!
Homeward-bound, my best friend and I,
Via avenues bowered by cherry blossom in the prime of life.
Tranquil thoughts and cheerful chatter.
Dusk was falling.
Suddenly conversation was curtailed.
A twinge of anxiety.
Panic over, the crawling car advanced up the road.
And stopped! Window down this time!
It waited for us to pass then resumed its creeping tempo.
The tension rose. We picked up pace.
There it was again, the menacing vehicle,
awaiting our approach.
No words exchanged but a fleeting glance
triggered the alarm;
A grotesque appearance repelled the eye.
Decision made. At the nearest house we rang the bell
And explained our anxiety.
Our liberator ushered us into the lounge,
Where a sea of eccentricity greeted us.
The doorbell rang. It was him!
Behind us the latch clicked firmly closed.
We stood face to face with our ‘pursuer’.
And then the penny dropped.
He had been checking the house numbers
Simply wanting to locate the address
Of the fancy dress party.
Our ‘good Samaritan offered us a drink.
We sheepishly declined,
eyes lowered, faces reddened.
We made our excuses
And laughed all the way home!