Best Whimpers Poems
Regally it stands, the staunch guardian of her lonesome heart,
Reminiscing in revelries of yore, treasured memories impart,
Defying glum turbulence of now, hanging on to seasons past,
When springs-winsome banished, doldrums harsh-winters cast.
Disheartened, the gate harkens back~ O, so young its master died,
Lamenting of distressed times, when grief stilled her teary eyed;
Yet, with resolve, it squeaks its hinges, resounding a voice of pride,
Beckoning to benevolence of bliss, fate had so callously denied.
With kindred vibes it greets her, vying elation of cherished days,
Suppressing aches and rattles of its rusting, clamoring, phase;
Preferring realm of time, when he was the keeper of this place,
As dutifully now it opens wide, exuding mirth of youthful grace.
O, how fondly the gate recalls, dance of duo beneath full moon,
Humming melodies intimate, passions of doting souls croon,
Embracing celebration of life, as heartbeats enamored attune,
To rhythms emanating song of love, strumming infatuated tune.
Despite groans and whimpers, blaring aloud clattering of pain,
The gate vows to protect her, refusing ever to wither or wane,
Unwavering through thunders, rains, vicious strikes of feeble age,
Challenging its steeled bones, to gallantly defy seasons’ rage.
Categories:
whimpers, emotions, memory, missing,
Form:
Personification
deep and late into the hem of night
my thoughts question uncertainties,
perhaps my heart does not believe in life
anymore, and deem men as anti-heroes;
so i lock the door of my tactile pores,
yet i speak of men in my accepted duality
somehow, honoring the smell of their laughter,
and their taste of affection with anger
to sketch their contours with my skin
on white linen between ceiling and lamp;
that when i open my eyes to look at their faces,
i see the whole universe.
then to recall how gazing through a skyline
the moon reflects tints of past flames and strangers,
as peak of moments’ rapture explodes
slicing the darkness ...changing whimpers to wonder...
that all i could say is “ thank you”,
appreciating my imperfectly perfect world...
i recall filling a basin of warmth for them
when streams of giving chains me
in the under –toe of hunger’s ebbs and tides,
embracing the divine wonder in their beings.
-------------------
* if we perceive a man or woman from a perspective
of seeing his/ her inner beauty despite some flaws, wouldn't
it be a wonderful place to be?
*inspired by Louis Armstrong’ “ what a wonderful world”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCp3K3XUhvU
Frank H's I Recall Contest
by nette onclaud
Categories:
whimpers, world, perspective, universe,
Form:
Free verse
The Beauty And Essence Of A Pretty Cowgirl
Although she wraps herself in soft leather,
Wearing her pointy-toed cowboy boots,
She delights in darkest stormy weather
And banging sounds her fast six-shooter shoots;
But hurt her and she just barely whimpers,
She is a lovely cowgirl through and through
Best to flee fast if rousing her temper
For she may stomp and beat you black and blue.
Yet gently hold her hand and give a kiss
You she may then gift a romantic night
You shall next wake unto heavenly bliss
But lord man, don't you ever pick a fight!
Although she wraps herself in soft leather,
She delights in darkest stormy weather.
R. J. Lindley, June 26th 1979
Sonnet, ( That ravishing beauty wearing cowboy boots )
Note: 7- 02- 1979
Met a cowgirl at the club, she was absolutely gorgeous.
We rode together all weekend. No saddle needed.
She left me that Monday morn, saying- "maybe again next year"..
Note: 3-11-2021
There truly are some that are totally unforgettable..
Categories:
whimpers, appreciation, art, beauty, desire,
Form:
Sonnet
Marred and minced remnants pile high in a storm’s swarm
Yesterdays, hardened-soft, surface where sea’s warm…
Flotsam found, lays tales around, in frayed traces
Another shattered shell whimpers of graces
vying with the sea-swept sands: gloss embossed fades…
Ocean’s dead! These are castaways of Hades,
rid of depth, stranded upon the dry shallow
Interred where the sun bleaches out the shadows
till whitened ivory fills cavern’s echo:
enmeshed lime, crunching upon errors callow
Jazz died - June’s sun sank into august abyss…
Undertow currents ceased their torments of bliss
Nipped life, silenced like frothing foam vacuum-sealed,
kept smothered in an opaque ocean congealed…
Yard junked, Neptune’s home’s now a derelict mess
and yet he clings to the crap amassed, crownless
Right always, up to the end --------- that no return.
Death will erase the un-sunk bones when they burn
(10/3/2019: '90 Sea Ray DA 350; Discovery Park; ‘my favorite junkyard’)
Categories:
whimpers, allusion,
Form:
Masnavi
Passion burned brighter
than candle flames
licking shadows on the wall.
A tongue sipped sweet nectar
from cream filled silken folds
that quivered with each libidinous stroke.
Like wisps of smoke, her whimpers rose
aroused by sensual flickering.
Embers smoldering
until luxuria was sated.
Some Kind of Sensual Poetry Contest
sponsored by Nette Onclaud
6/3/2020 -- 44 words
Categories:
whimpers, sensual,
Form:
Free verse
Happiness is the first rain that breaks the drought,
Seeing the joyful faces on farmers all about.
Happiness is a young child soaring high on a swing,
Feeling as free as a bird on the wing.
Happiness is a clean report of health from the medical test,
Knowing the old ticker is good, makes me feel my best.
Happiness is knowing the whole family is home snug and warm,
When thunder, lightning, hale and wind rage in the storm.
Happiness is that wagging tail, whimpers saying glad you’re home,
The slobbery toy he brings to encourage you never to roam.
Happiness is that first burst of soothing warm water in the shower,
On a freezing cold winter’s day it gives you such power.
Happiness is the first white flowers of Jasmine telling me its spring,
The beautiful perfume filling the air those tiny flowers bring.
Happiness is sitting at the end of the day with a good job done,
Just relaxing with him watching the setting of the sun.
Happiness is that tight hug at the airport that lasts for so very long,
So glad to see each other, because our love is so strong.
Happiness is my prayer of thanks at the end of the day and into the night,
Thanking our lord for keeping them safe and allowing all to go right.
Categories:
whimpers, happiness,
Form:
List
I've written the lyrics to two lullabies for my daughter, Shereen. I even made
up the tunes, and I'd sing to her when she was a baby to put her to sleep. She
still remembers those songs at 19 years of age. For my birthday last May, she
wrote this poem as a gift....just like last year. The quoted parts are words taken from the lullabies. I adore my daughter, my greatest and most precious gift.
“When she smiles, I feel like a bird in the sky.”
The words softly sung to the weary child-
This bundle of whimpers
This armful of distress-
Hoping they’d ease her restlessness
Hoping they’d calm her disquieted heart…
And they did.
Like nothing else ever could.
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.
“She is the apple of my eye.”
Rocking gently in time with the tune, she swiftly fell
Fell into a peaceful slumber
Nuzzled in the warmth of her consoler
Whimpers softened, distress vanished
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning.
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.
“With laughter and joy she fills my heart”
Nestled in that kind embrace
The child, now almost grown
With tear-stained face and heavy heart
Couldn't fight the world alone
But whenever she was breaking, too tired to go on
She’d search for those same words-
To ease her restlessness
To calm her disquieted heart…
She’d search for those same words
To find them in those same arms.
And she’d fall. Like she always did.
Fall into that peaceful slumber
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning.
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.
Written by Shereen Nathalie Ghali (May 18, 2014)
Please read The Month of May...which is Shereen's first birthday poem written for me and posted here. You will find it if you type the title in PS's search engine. It is a beauty and is in rhyme.
Categories:
whimpers, birthday, mother daughter, song,
Form:
Free verse
I sometimes feel a unique vibration within
my own ears. My baby’s crying, calling from beneath his quilted,
baby-blues. His sobs rustle the warm sheath of home.
Before my mind reacts, my body is up, hastily tip-toeing
into the nightlight’s calming glow of a cow jumping over the moon.
Outside a soggy, spring night splatters under streetlights
like urban art. A steady rhythm of flowing rain
beats down on puddled pavements. My baby’s cries
reverberate as they reach that instinctual part of me,
somewhere deep within my diaphragm and through my heart.
A mother’s astute ears know the subtle variations of her own
children’s breath in sleep…I hurry to the shadows of my baby’s crib
to find him curled up, eyes still closed; little whimpers
and groans escape from his open lips…a bad dream, I realize.
I gently rub his back, shushing away all that disturbs his peace,
and I wonder about a child’s impressionable mind…
what intrusions of an innocent day could bring a bellowed anguish
to the sweet dreams of a carefree boy not yet two?
I listen to him tumble in and out of his fear until his breath is a tranquil hum…
only then, do I hear the music of an early morning’s falling rain.
Categories:
whimpers, baby, dream, mother, night,
Form:
Free verse
Slovenly sorrows cause a blur,
Shameful shallows seep and stir.
He whimpers; a cowering cur,
Deathbed's deals, give-take, now occur.
Soul dried, bunched ball of prickly burr
Waste-of-time tears, goad like a spur.
Apologies, are but a slur,
Regrets besmirch like rancid myrrh.
Slanderers’ stooge, no amateur,
Souls sold, Evil’s entrepreneur.
Atropos to cut; F A T E S concur
Time to let loose this saboteur!
“Burn in H E L L”, said the whisperer…
Susan Ashley
July 28, 2017
~ Third Place ~
Contest: Early August Standard
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
whimpers, death, destiny, evil,
Form:
Monorhyme
I hear the chirruping of birds.
It emerges from vast hidden spaces
from wherever the birds may be.
Their twittering sounds are scattered,
interspersed with cricket sounds
and the intermittent whimpers of a lonely pup
that seems to be a distance not too far away.
The birds refuse to show themselves.
They are like the happy people of my neighborhood
busy with their lives. . . .
The birds and my neighbors elude me.
The crickets keep to their camouflage in the grass.
The little dog's sad cries have now disappeared.
On this ordinary warm June afternoon
I begin to wonder where Robin Redbreast went.
It seems like it was yesterday - a brighter day -
I saw her in my very own front yard.
If she's singing now, I wouldn't know.
I do not know the song of a sparrow from a lark's.
I'd rather “feel” joy, not just hear it.
And I'd rather see with my own eyes
those crickets at their play (I'm just that way).
I'd like to have that little dog with me.
I'd pat his head and stroke his coat and say,
"Robin Redbreast hides from us today.
She may have gone away, but I am here, sweet dog.
I understand. I understand."
For the the 'ALL YOURS (Apr 20)' Poetry Contest of Brian Strand
Categories:
whimpers,
Form:
Lyric
-- A poetic glimpse into the metaphysical world of ' The twilight Zone '
The edge of midnite,
not quite day or night,
not quite death or life ---
What realms do I wander your curtained halls?
No mere mortal can shed the rust from your bones ---
and solve thy mystery;
a thing that should not be,
nestled between life and dreams,
so brief it whimpers in the dark and is gone....
Yet, you are there, and return,
something faceless;
no dance nor melody could live to breathe one breath;
You will live a thousand years more ----
tell me ---- darkling lord:
What shall bring your death?
Categories:
whimpers, mystery, space, time,
Form:
Rhyme
Lights turn off
and a small child whimpers in fear
afraid of the monster in his closet
or the eyes under his bed.
He cries silently,
attempting bravery for the first time
or he wails, cowardly
never trying something new and courageous.
His mother comes to aid him
and make sure he's alright
but i know deep inside her
she's a little afraid of the dark at night.
The unknown of a robber in the closet
the killer under the bed
each thought terrifies her
spins in terror in her head.
But other fears take priority:
the unpaid bills, the unfolded laundry
the dinner to be made
and the thought of her little boy in danger,
is the thought that makes her the most afraid.
Categories:
whimpers, childhood, fear, night, parents,
Form:
Free verse
One dark night takes me on a ride to an isolated hill where I inhale unpleasantness ..
Wide gleamy monstrous gate opens as the mighty wind blows,
creepy ferns crawl all over the floor.
Eerie garden awaits the lost lover's presence;
There stands a haunted home with a grubby porch at the entrance.
The magnanimous door welcomes me unwaveringly;
To the right there's slaughter hall polished with blood stains.
On the wall, hung portrait of a lady wearing a long red gown with a silver hat and a golden rosette stapled;
Beside protruded, a yearning window decorated by cob webs;
To the left led staircase ,as I step on railing, it crackles like hatching eggs; Carefully I manage to reach the first floor and confronted a quiet room occupied by constant whispers & spine-chilling whimpers...I slowly move inside and envision nothing strange,but I feel something moist dripping on my cheeks from the roof above.
When I look up, the entire strong ceiling collapses,
disembodied spirit arises,floating on air,observes the decaying house from a distance.
14-7-2020
~Deepa. V~
First place in the contest:-)
Note: Decaying house Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by A Dear Heart(Constance)
Categories:
whimpers, adventure, dark, horror, house,
Form:
Free verse
Bronwyn the Barbaric was a buxom lass
the envy of all her peers
She spoke with unrivaled swashbuckling sass
her pirate-ess fashion was fierce
She could charm off the arms of the most hardened men
how they'd swoon at the sight of her swagger
She ruled over cutthroats with a dangerous grin
her hand ever over her dagger
But her smile was so lovely, her style was so vogue
that she had little need for such violence
With a wave of her hand, she could tame ruthless rogues
with a look she could cause utter silence
So, peacefully she plundered (with minions to pillage
and devotedly obey her commands)
Until a shop window caught her eye in the village
and she made a bad purchase, unplanned
There she acquired the most dashing high-heel boots
custom made (according to her wishes)
But the pain that they caused was something acute
and it made the 'old girl' act quite vicious
She kidnapped the cobbler and tortured him so
she was in quite a terrible temper
She dealt him such cruel and merciless blows
the crew could hardly handle his whimpers
She became a tyrannical, treacherous wench
terrorizing from Tahiti to Tangier
Leaving in her wake only ruins and stench
with a reckless and wicked sneer
And 'though her crew were not a cowardly lot
they dared not get on her bad side
The last scalawag was both stabbed and shot
before she tossed him into the tide
But one rakish mate had an interesting offer
her vanity couldn't refuse-
If he could, just once, get those stylish boots off her
a better set he could produce
So eyeing him, slowly, she peeled the boots off
and immediately felt such relief
Gone was her bitterness, her angry scoff
gone was the source of her grief
Seeing their pirate queen herself again
the crew gathered 'round and they cheered
Those bloody boots were thrown overboard
and their mate was quite revered
Now a barefoot buccaneer, she still
struts across the deck
And if they don't bend to her will
she'll see they're put in check!
Categories:
whimpers, fantasy, fashion, funny, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
A spic and span barren bed,
soft pillow with blanket spread.
You're tired and bored, all hackneyed.
Ready to sleep, drop down dead.
But...a vigilant mind..alive in dread.
cacophony..chaos..thoughts unsaid.
Another sleepless night ahead?
Head and heart throbs, like burning cigarettes
Broken love haunts, rude taunts and threats.
Throttled throat breathes, playback cassetes.
Silent tears douse, debts and regrets.
There lies the pillow, waiting to get wet.
That pillow.....so much you miss ..
Where Santa hid .....those gifts of bliss.
An angel mom blew goodnight kiss.
The pillow fights of sweet reminisce.
Now all ruffled,.. restless,.. whimpers hiss
Somnolent sombre eyes,
in endless rhythm eulogize..
A Sleepless Lullaby....
Dawn bids night goodbye....
Categories:
whimpers, bereavement, break up, depression,
Form:
Rhyme