Best Widely Poems
Love is a rainbow mirrored in the sky
Its free, its beautiful and tells no lies
A gleaming reflection
Upon the still of a pond
The dewy mist on a freshly cut lawn
Love is a sanctuary for our innermost fears
A tiny capsule to hold all of our tears
A symbol of beauty, rare to be found
Its strength and convictions
Knows no bounds
Love is the touch of our first newborn
So soft, so delicate, so easy to adore
An unconditional consenting of souls
An awareness, a spirit, unique to its own
Love soothes and heals though cannot be bought
An eternal commitment so widely sought
Love is a truth and blossoms for few
A necessity of life, a uniting of hearts
A palette so stunning, so beautiful and new
Love is how I feel for you.
I'll bet this set of rusty shears have a story they could tell,
of the loneliness and broken backs in a land that's hot as hell,
where hopes and dreams mirrored lives that these shearers led,
here among the ruins of an outback-shearing shed.
I'll bet this set of rusty shears have a story often told,
in optimistic mirages where water is pure as gold,
and living quarters offered would barely shield the moon
in stifling heat of summer, or bitter cold in June.
All that's left is one wall teasing, the wind to blow it down.
Mustering yards are overgrown; mulga posts lie on the ground.
There's hand-made nails, broken rails, memories that are spread,
here among the ruins of an outback shearing shed.
I feel like I'm intruding out here on the western plains,
standing here in a ghostly wind where it hardly ever rains,
imagining I lived the life that these shearers led,
in the ruins with the ghosts of an outback shearing shed.
All that's left is one wall teasing, the wind to blow it down.
Mustering yards are overgrown; mulga posts lie on the ground.
Oil tins and sharpening stone, broken glass is widely spread
here among the ruins of an outback shearing shed.
I'll bet this set of rusty shears have a story they could tell,
of the loneliness and broken backs in a land that's hot as hell,
where hopes and dreams preceded lives that these shearers led,
here among the ruins of an outback-shearing shed.
battle of the sexes
~~MONA LISA SMILE
Picture Oil painting worthwhile
Leonardo DA Vinci, look out!
What is she really smiling about?
(((The popularity of the Mona Lisa increased in the mid 19th century
because of the Symbolist movement. The painting was thought to
encompass a sort of feminine mystique.)))
~~JAMES EARL JONES
His award winning voice, rough like stones
Darth Vader, Mufasa, stuttering jubilee
When I die can he be the one narrating my eulogy?
(((I love James, I'm a star wars freak... <--- yup that's me)))
~~SADDAM AND BIN LADEN
Were very bad, bad men
Causing chaos throughout America & Afghanistan,
HATERS OF THE USA: they should be called the Arab ku klux klan
(((Occupation: Terrorist~ makes me wonder if they went to the same school.)))
~~ADOLF HITLER
The world worse killer
Commander of the oxymoron Nazi
Losing at his own game of Yahtzee
(((The Most Hated Murderer of all time)))
~~YOUNG ANNE FRANK
Her diary worth more than any bank
Famous Jewish victims of the Holocaust
Her legacy teaches that hate is an exhaust
(((Anne Frank's diary remains one of the most moving and widely read
accounts of the Jewish experience during the Holocaust.)))
~~JOAN OF ARC
Angel in an era so dark
an epic hundred year war
her visions is what she payed for.
(((Joan of Arc, also called the Maid of Orleans, a patron saint of France
and a national heroine, led the resistance to the English invasion.)))
~~BB KING
Can really sing
Stand by me...
But, can he sting like a bee
(((BB KING~ could not help but wonder if he was a lover and a fighter.)))
~~LADY GAGA
Is no piano sonata,
Madonna wannabe, is she.
Watching her videos make me laugh till I pee.
(((Lady Gaga is Unique as can be!)))
by;p.d.
for battle of the clerihew
Santa hasn’t drunk cocoa tonight,
and he’s not dressed in red trimmed with white.
In blue denim so cool,
he is toasting the Yule
with a drink surely not mixed with Sprite!
Santa’s drink was a little too red,
and I think we have something to dread,
for he’s now in the sky
and he’s flying “too high”
as his sleigh widely veers overhead.
Had been use for the Humor Contest of Carol Eastman
* Slab City is a snowbird campsite in the Colorado Desert in southeastern California, used by recreational vehicle owners and squatters from across North America. East Jesus is part of its artistic community.
I wish
I could into a deep blue sea dive
Have the flowing flood of tears subside
Let my smile surface and revive
And my woes would ever cease to survive..
I wish
I could the highest of mountains mount
And from its very summit
I would see with no doubt
How tiny my tribulations and vain to wane about..
I wish
I could widely fly
Reach the heart of the sky
And how light I am I would realise
Having dropped the heaviest of burdens so far..
I wish
I could on a solid land land
And feel the strength of the path I tread
Be sure not to stumble
When I raise high my head..
I wish
I could vanish into darkness
With a void I would merge
Attain a leading light
And with serenity I would converge..
I wish
I could follow an inner time to rise
Bright, full of energy and willing to shine
Despite the weights of dark nights
Seek the Light of God, bow to the Sublime and end my fights
I wish
I could not just bathe but sink
In a so pigmented thick ink
Draw and colour in a wondrous beauty
Paintings and portraits with my poetry..
Quote:
"Xenodochial (pronounced zeena-doh-key-ul) means to be hospitable. Making others feel at home is truly an art. When you can make your friends, family, and even strangers feel as if they truly belong, you are making the world a better place". By Poet
______________________________________________________________
In a rather distant and uncaring world
There is a virtue that is widely unknown
Friendly, xenodochial, and blithesome Words
A non-parochial warmth is widely shown
Strive to treat strangers with dignity and kindness
And to bless your soul, grant no eyes to blindness
You may glimpse angels—in this river of dryness
No impediments ought to obscure the light
Treasure is always found at unexpected sites
Always be suitable for fresh starts and height
Welcoming pathway lights are faint yet pearled
Bear in mind we harvest whatever we have sown
Don't scold or exhibit just a shred of unkindness
A star shining on you will be soft, mild, and bright
We live in a world where sickness abounds,
Sometimes stumping the best of providers.
Symptoms and tests almost always expound,
While the emotional costs grow wider.
The travel and care and expenses we bare,
In dollars and tears for a healing.
Pale when compared, with the voluminous prayers,
Our reverence and humility kneeling.
Seeing through to the end, great strength we must take,
And the position that attitude matters.
A stiff upper lip and a smile sometimes fake,
Anything less, and fragile hope easily shatters.
Yet until we’re called home, to streets paved with gold,
Or abodes filled with love and affection,
Widely known in the hearts, of the young and the old,
Laughter remains, life's greatest healing medication!
The rose was fragile in its beauty,
Its hue the colour of romance novels and warm tea,
But these flowers aren’t flickers of flames in winter,
They were cold,
They were your soulless eyes staring up at me from a casket.
You became the still image of everything you should never have been,
Your hair was too neat,
Your honey blond fragments a solid streak,
It was always untidy,
No wonder you were loved so widely.
You were never a rose,
Never dainty nor small,
Pesticides and gloves were never needed,
You always grew tall.
I could touch you without bleeding,
Your thorns never pierced my skin,
You helped me grow,
But now you’re gone,
No sunlight or rainwater tears will ever bring you back.
When I sit in my garden and I watch the sunflowers turn towards that sun,
It hurts a little less to have lost a loved one,
But now I understand.
Not why you had to die but why you lived,
Your life was a garden of memories and breath,
Of the mellow sun striking the petals of yellow sunflowers,
That was you Cath,
You tilted towards everything bright,
Sunflowers litter my garden now,
A sea of sunshine smiling faces,
You are never dead,
For the blazing memory of you keeps every nook and cranny of my garden alive.
The most social thing on earth
Social than the Social Networking Sites
Tall with straight uniform trunk
Unbranched trunk topped with a
Tuft fanlike or featherlike leaves.
Cresting with a plume of long feathery fronds
Making a graceful silhouette of unique beauty
With spiral arrangement of its wood fibers
Which makes it a tree of unusual suppleness and strength
Large evergreen leaves
With bundles of vascular tissue
Scattered throughout the trunks.
Abundant throughout the tropics
And thrive in almost every inhabitat therein
The quintessential image of relaxed and elegant lifestyle
A good friend in need,
A good friend indeed
Because of its versatility,
Many people cannot do without it.
Having as many uses as the year has days.
And noted for productivity in the bible
Imagine the way it comes to its full bearing
After ten to fifteen years on earth.
And still continue to bear for nearly a hundred years.
Of great economic importance,
Providing food, fibre, wine and oil
Widely used in landscaping for its exotic appearance
A useful ornamental tree
This social palm tree
Eyes lock
A mother and her first born
Pure love flooding her veins
Heart bursting with pride
Devotion silently pledged for eternity
For nine months
Nurtured and cherished
Hearts beating together
As one
Hearts lock
A girl and her first love
As eyes meet
Devotion grasps them both
Innocent affection engulfing her soul
Her smile beams widely with joy
Hearts beating in unison
Glowing with pride
As one
Fate bringing them together
The first born and his first love
Made for each other
Deeply in love
A shimmering diamond ring
A promise to love for eternity
Happiness unites two families
Together smiling
As one
That perfect day
The mother lost her first born
To his first love
Pure love flows through their hearts
Now abandoned
The mother sobs
Silently
Alone
As one
Salty tears sting her eyes
Thoughts from the past sprint through her mind
The moment she met her first born
Devotion and pure love
For eternity
Forever and forever
A mother for her first born
A love only felt now
By one
I didn't want anyone
to have a sad Christmas,
so I roamed Manhattan's star-decorated streets,
where many a homeless weeps...
where was I to find that someone,
if not in that corner where a barrel fire was?
By God's grace, I found that unhappy person in ragged clothes
to give my four presents to,
ending the drama of his woe
by bringing coat, shoes, gloves and a long scarf
to erase the misery of a beggar whose cold night was rough;
he widely smiled when I leaned forward and offered him my gifts!
Bewildered folks wearing the latest fashion attire, did not have
the decency of stooping down and give him a single quarter,
and doing so they killed the Christmas' spirit entirely...
a generous spirit well-known in this city; yes, my anger
could have made me lash out at them with indignation,
but realizing how greedy people can be withholding love:
I gasped in relief to discover a creche of our Savior so cheery
along the festive Fifth Avenue to get rid of my frustration!
What I found there was a Heaven-inspired sight
of gleaming angel's hovering the stable announcing Christ's glorious birth...
while beneath bang-pipers and trumpets players, glowing with mirth,
accompanied the youngest choir singing, "Holy Night."
Perhaps venturing out in the cold of the wealthiest city,
gave me the opportunity to realize the hidden goodness of kind souls
that give away their humble presents in various forms,
not expecting anything in return...but rejoice in the delightful sound of harmony.
Firstly, one has to take into account their scientific peers’ remarks,
As to the likely cause of how an Earthquake starts.
Some forums say it is caused by the shift in tectonic plates,
Others seem to doubt, seem to hesitate.
Some believe a government conspiracy of a machine that causes the devastation,
Their conspiracy being at the cost of the suffering of another nation.
The layman believe, if all the people in China, at the same time jump,
It would cause worldwide earthquakes as their feet come down with a thump.
Nevertheless, to conduct such a feat would be a difficult task
Therefore it has never been tested and is considered a farce
I have read the theories from all these schools of thought,
And collated the facts that backs my theory which is now widely taught.
Take some time to cogitate the facts
Sit back and take the time to chew on the fat
You will see the simplicity in my theory
And say to your self it’s all true how eerie
The Earthquakes are caused by, you guessed it me and you
From the sexual experiences we all go through
Example:
“I felt the Earth move, how was it for you?”
And she would say “I felt it tremble and saw fireworks too”
Or:
I saw Jane today, you know, the one that makes me go weak by the knees
She’s a real knee trembler a real sex tease
Now imagine these experiences on a grand scale,
No think bigger than me misses; I know she’s bigger than a whale
They say there is a couple having naughties every second of the day
That’s many earth moving experiences I have to say
These minor trembles are absorbed by the earths crust from these sensations
That occur in every town, country, and among diverse nations
So when you lie in bed savouring the tasty aftermath
Before you decide to take a bath
When you think how he or she made you feel the earth move
You have contributed to the making of earthquakes and there’s the proof.
Good night
Episode 1
Enter Fire Ball
Can I help being curvaceous and bold,
Or so I’ve been told,
Can I help it, if I get a visual massage,
Daily compliments, in fact a barrage!
I was born a beauty, and to only preen
Always to be seen as pristine!
In fact I’m an absolute sensuous tease,
Who flirts and sways as does a breeze,
Can I help looking like a Hollywood star,
Does all the above sound somewhat bizarre,
Do I come from Planet Venus afar,
Of course yes,
I’m looking for my man from Mars,
They say he’s behind bars,
But I am a new superhero
Who journeyed to Planet Earth from the age zero,
My beauty computed to blind and bedazzle,
Humans who try to stop me, fry to a frazzle,
My name in comic books, if you know your stuff,
Is Fire Ball, outrageously dangerous and tough,
It was Planet Venus’s dream,
Though somewhat extreme,
That I turn every prison guards’ head,
It was written, and is widely known and said,
That I would come, to free my man from his hell,
On Planet Earth’s cell,
I have been mentored for this, since I was sweet sixteen,
I’m magnificently exquisite, but bad and mean,
My orders to free my hero and take him back to Mars,
As he sits behind iron bars,
His strength, has been seeped and taken away
By humans, who will rue that fateful day!
Life is like a nut,
Differs in shape, size, color or crust,
Life is like a nut.
For some, it’s like a coconut,
Beyond the reach, safe from gust
Very important, much privileged!
Whether unripen or matured.
For some it’s like a peanut,
Malleable, fit in budget
Widely spread, versatile no doubt
However, down and out.
For some it’s like a walnut,
You can see the eminence clear cut
Set comfortably in its dwell,
In a hard stilted shell.
For some it’s like a pine nut,
Gazes weird I tell you what
Shielded with strong beautiful woody cone,
Prevents you! to invade its zone.
For some it’s like a cashew nut,
Self-interested, pricy somewhat
Tightly attached with red pulpy drupe,
Be cautious! While shelling the fruit
For some it’s like a chestnut,
Down-to-earth, graceful but,
Surrounded with sharp spines called “Bur”
All adversities ought to conquer.
Life is like a nut,
Differs in shape, size, color or crust,
Life is like a nut.
Today ...
Today the sun shined ...
Horizon-to-horizon it warmed, marrow and moat,
Tickling those things below that wait patiently for a turning.
Tomorrow?
Snow, so they say ...
But as life, what tomorrow brings, only tomorrow knows,
And perhaps hope lies waiting, trembling in cold soil.
Two-thousand-and-twenty is but a babe ...
And though it was brought forth in the brisk, biting breath of winter,
It holds the opportunity and prospect of the sun.
Long days always follow short,
Cold always bows low to warmth and bloom,
And while those white flakes may dust the air with crystals on the
morrow,
Though hardship and challenge may place themselves under our feet,
And the year start with ominous clouds of question and challenge,
They, too, are but ephemeral and brief,
And the day, AS the year,
Is what we make of it ...
The cold clay in our hands will warm to mold and ply,
And the things we fashion are naught but as the weather -
Limited ONLY by what we sculpt from it,
What we envision and forge and spin to shapes
Upon imagination's wheel.
The forecast?
Widely scattered conceptions,
Hope and possibility on the horizon,
With a steady downpour of potentiality!
One hundred percent chance ...
Of life as we make it,
And dreams ...
As imagined.
Submitted on February 6, 2020
To the "Strand Select F Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest
Brian Strand, Sponsor.