Best With Expertise Poems
Why are you not where you belong?
This situation is very wrong?
I do not mean to pry,
Yet still I wonder why?
Some beautiful birds and a lake,
Would not at all be hard to take.
Fish swimming up and down,
Colored like the circus clown.
Striped red, white and cerise,
They bring such poetic peace.
Such a beautiful place to write,
A poetess’s heavenly delight.
Evergreen trees buzzing with bees,
Geese honking with expertise.
With colorful gardens all about,
Beauty in your heart and without.
-----------------------------------------
Nowhere now to feed the birds,
Confused and can’t find the words.
Your poetry now in plastic bins,
No longer heard sweet violins.
The new rooms have high ceilings,
Yet lack the homely feelings.
Your heart longs for absent friends,
On whom your happiness so depends.
A magical world you see all around,
Describing it with words that astound.
The cat with a fiddle and a bow,
A heated passion for warm Bordeaux.
A unicorn hosting a Gala,
Invitations delivered by Impala.
A Loon’s call in the still early morn,
And a puff ball on toast before dawn.
Dear lady stay the whole course,
Write again, ride that white horse.
The Gift Of Winter
When Winter brings old seasons to their ends
and plans a rest for Spring and Summer trends,
we're eased by lovely scenes that Autumn sends,
while Winter puts to sleep those retirees
of brittle vines and leafless, naked trees,
exhausted roots and bulbs, with expertise.
The drab gray scenes will brighten in degrees
when layered white with spread of pristine snow
that purifies and moistens ground below,
where life, like 'sleeping beauty', waits to grow.
When Winter has achieved her last plateau,
she nudges Spring to wake and take the stage.
But while the sleeping ground does not engage
in life-filled days, our Winter does upstage
with beauty of her wonderland onstage;
snow-covered limbs and hills of velvet white
that leaves us breathless at their very sight,
as sunbeams glisten and reflect the light.
This gift she offers as her own delight,
when Winter brings old seasons to their ends.
Sandra M. Haight
~9th Place~
Premiere Contest: Impress Me With A New Poem
Sponsor: SKAT A
Judged: 01/17/2018
~1st Place~
Contest: Rhyme Time III
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Judged: 12/25/2017
Rules of Previous Contest: FIVE stanzas using this rhyme scheme:
STANZA 1: A-A-A-B STANZA 2: B-B-B-C STANZA 3: C-C-C-D
STANZA 4: D-D-D-E STANZA 5: E-E-E-A
5th Stanza: Last line must be the exact same sentence as first line in 1st Stanza
My hand fits on it
holding it with expertise
I hold its oval body made of pig skin
Firmly to my chest
Sprinting down the field
Towards the "END ZONE"
Dodging strong, heavy bodies
Helmets hit, shoulders pads collide
As I throw the ball
On its last flight...Touchdown
A father figure, worth his guarantee,
His name, Amaro, (like tomorrow), here you see,
a Latin name which means a bitter tree.
His name, Amaro, spurned with faith as master key;
when duty called, he, Gramps, was nominee.
His name, Amaro, he would harbor family.
His son had died by accident, a cop,
three tiny tots were blessed to live by neighbor Pops.
When Mommy left, wound tighter than a top,
three youngsters found their rest and did not drop.
Pops took them on and raised them in his shop;
three teenage boys who loved him best, love would not stop.
They’d learned his trade with expertise, he knew.
In auto skills, he’d taught them well. He’d trained his crew
to understand when customers are few
in people skills, we need to take an open view.
He soon found out when bills are overdue
in business skills, the three could teach him something new.
You’ve read right here, of how to climb the ropes,
Amaro understood. His faith has raised my scope;
he made mistakes, I never heard him mope.
Amaro saw that raising boys takes more than hope.
Three lively guys who pushed his envelope,
Amaro understood, a pop who learned to cope.
January 9, 2015
for Richard Lamoureux, Bring My Character to Life Contest.
My coat streaked in shades of brown
My home borrowed in the ground
Cheeks full with summers plunder
Winter is coming will there be enough I wonder
Nuts and seed are enough to please
For these I gather with expertise
Shucking and shelling to reveal my foils
Carefully tucking them away so not a one spoils
They say I'm a mammal small in size
I say please don't chastise
For that little debility
I make for with speed and agility
For I am Chipmunk
Not some little punk
A brand new car gleams with silver and unblemished paint
Never belonging to anyone else brings its own desirability
Virginal, it might be called…longed for but never driven
Lovely girl with her makeup just right
Yearned for and desired by men
She chooses you, requirement virginal
Everything about a new vehicle cries out for purchase
Little down, guaranteed and under warranty
It’s tuned to perfection
Beautiful hair, glowing skin
Smiling with perfect teeth, matching figure
Her life geared toward marriage and family
Oiled with expertise
Mirrors adjusted and radio playing
Seats smooth as leather with that new car smell
Her guaranteed…must please her man
Keep the shape, cook the meals
The feelings…mutual, emotional, and sexual
Once the car gets on the road, things may change
That first ding in the car door
The rear ender that wasn’t your fault.
Three years in…two children later
Hair shaggy and skin pimply
Smiling but with cavities shining
Leaking oil after the too close curb
Radio lost its antenna only static
Smell is now of smoke and bodies
Five years in…three children now
Lost her guaranteed warranty…new car purchased
Newer, younger, and more desirable
Trade her in…get the best deal for the money
Wives and cars…hmm
How does this equate
God is the only man in her life
Work, children, and baby sitters
How will she pay the bills?
Parked in the garage waiting, this woman
Worried, alone, and struggling, this woman
Someone else will want to sit beside this beautiful woman.
Suddenly,wild flames thud out
Of our little kerosene lamp
Mocking flames danced on me
With expertise. their hungry mouths
Ate my perfumed flesh in glee
My manful cries went heaven high
That aunt Priscilla came running wild
That Wednesday night of 10 November
Began my song of painful plea
Goat burnt skin as soft plum peeled
Sneering scissors thrust stubborn gauze and
Red rain rush quickly out, then
When on it iodine oil is released
Tormenting pains my body feel it's when
I begin, my songs of painful plea
My mouth tore in anguished laughter
Myself been prisoner of frustrating pains
When my eyes beheld my white hands
And my skin embellished with ugly scars
My soul could not but raise that song
My song of painful plea
My song of painful plea
Echoes loud across the sky
For my heart made fragments
Of peaceful past, and a
Library of scars in each tiny half
My heart will take no more
For I've done no wrong
Let happiness be a distant dream
To them who adulterated our kerosene.
My song of painful plea.
Life is like a pure glass goblet
Molded from the beginning
Etchings are added like memories
Each one carefully placed
Home is represented by a firm line
Showing the beginning of life
Followed by the ups an downs of growing up
Here the pattern begins
Love and marriage follows next
Children added to life's total
The hearts and tiny flowers
Are etched upon the glass
Old age quickly follows
The etcher with expertise
Entwines the flowing line
So that the picture is all as one
Life's pattern is etched for eternity
Unless carelessness causes
the glass to be shattered, gone for evermore.
Inspired by : Figure Fusion written by Robb Kopp
Penned 30 June 2013
Just in time for Halloween
a big, black cheshire cat
tip toes along the tips of the fence.
A balancing act
executed with expertise and precision
in every cautious step.
Until
my dog, the guardian of the yard
spots and challenges the talented display.
Then
plunk, slip, plop, scatter, thrash, run.
The cat is gone
with only the echoing bark
of the guardian's voice
in failed pursuit.
RAJARAM RAMACHANDRAN, YOU WILL BE MISSED FOREVER
You’ve left a legacy, a treasure to cherish,
The words of wisdom, the priceless pearls,
Each letter embedded with love and care,
For all the fellow beings, the loving souls!
Spreading cheer abound, filling hearts with joy,
The depth of the ocean delving deep in purity, wisdom,
A seeker of truth, a philosopher, a thinker,
The highest realms of the consciousness, pinnacles reached!
The scriptures enlivened, the epics mastered,
The Ramayana, The Mahabharata, The Holy Bible, The Krishna Leela,
Blessings showered from the Divine, the Grace,
Offering the poetry at the Lotus feet of the Lord!
The greatest humans, the purest souls,
Revered, honoured in your words galore,
Gautama Buddha, Harichandra, Adi Sankara, Saint Thyagaraja,
Swami Vivekananda, Mother Teresa, Saint Bernadette Sobirous!
A master of letters with expertise, finesse,
A devotee of Krishna, the mellifluous tunes that you sung,
From the depth of your heart, from the core of your soul,
Shedding off all darkness, dissipating ignorance!
You taught me to live the life to the fullest,
With the brightest smiles sparkling on the way,
The life lessons learnt, the messages spread,
The guidance, the compassion illuminating all!
As a shimmering candle, your aura shines,
A sudden bliss, a gleaming hope,
A modest, humble self-effacing guide,
Enlightening the path, unfurling tranquil peace!
My heart refutes, the mind repels,
The cruel death snatches the mortal being,
Your memories I treasure to reminisce and cherish,
Your words my companion in the journey of life!
Shivering as I put my hands into my pockets,even with
the thick gloves worn on the hands,it was as if they are
naked.I wonder when I`m going to get use to this weather?.
I`m freezing as I stand beside my friend,watching him putting
on his snow-board.My body is perforated like wire gauze as
cold breeze saunters in and out at will with impunity.My hair
follicles stretched out.Tired of staying in this open `deep freezer`;
so I reach for my whisky and gulp it down like a thirsty Camel from
the Sahara.I wonder,how some people cope?;"different strokes
for different folks";as I gaze at two couples cuddling and moulding
a man with ice,just like the Potter.And two kids skiing beautifully
with tremendous dexterity.
My eyes became clearer as the alcohol diffuses into my blood stream
and warm sensation vibrates through my body.
ice falls from sky
as I watch lovers play--
snow-man stands
The rooms have to be heated,yet some are still trapped and frozen.
This is my second experience,the first time,I did not leave my room
for days,because I came from the tropical rain forest where ice don`t
fall from the sky.Here the whole ground is covered with ice and painted
white,even rivers and streams.But this time around,they did not allow
me to stay in isolation at home.Suddenly,Jane touched me and I jerk
back to the present to partially forget my predicament,and to see
Fred ski-jump and glide with expertise.Winter Olympic medal is
a sure bet for him.
CONTEST:"Mix it up" sponsored by Debbie Guzzi
Sailing up and down the sky
Hovering over the moist heathers
Soaring and sliding high
Dawning grey and brown feathers.
Spreading her wings with expertise
Unfurling her stripped tail,
She glides through the wind with ease
Looking as light as the dancing gale.
A descendant of voracious predators
She dives sharp down to her prey,
She possesses the vitality of deadly raptors
There is no chance of her catch getting away.
She nests in aspens at the edge of a meadow
You can find her in the marshlands,
She may also be at the swamp out your window
But it is the open wild that she demands.
12th March 2023
Contest: Writing Challenge K words
Sponsored by Constance La France
He expertly ollies to the
kick-flip with his brand new
Element rip stick,
elemental tricks are essential
so he has to ride it smoothly
grinding the rail with expertise
kicking faster and faster
riding along at quickspeed
wind zephyrs through his hair
body gliding through the air
free sliding, slip sliding
keeping up the pace
eyes hearing, all knowing
a wonderous race
against yourself
no one else
leaning into the right
making the curve
counter balance
mind reeling fun
looking for a chance
to do the ultimate trick
c mon skip up and slide the rails
jump the five easy steps
lean again to a radical turn
no turning back
no turning back
catching air, do a kick-flip
board goes round, meets his feet
take it nice and easy now
hitting the ramp, up up and over
push push adrenaline rush
eyes glazed heart beat wild
becoming one with the board
mastering his every move.
I am the Bird man
No Tony hawk
the master of pavement
one with the movement
one with the wind
one with himself
gleaming the cube
polish it feel it
absorb it reeling in your mind
with euphoric overload
and suddenly he skids, falls
rolling and tumble rough
over and over
reap the pain
with nothing to gain
losing all control
flying like a rag doll
a complete skin shredding disaster.
he is no longer the master
On the Straight
A stealthy mover on this silent passage
Parting the calm with rippled arrow
And purring rhythmic chug as friend
A distant bird sings a capella
Its painted wooden structure fore to aft
Sails the straight with house on back
As slow as a snail carving watery track
And loyal path beside
Fresh paint adorns its windowed side
By painter’s hand with expertise
Of floral motif and patterned line
Like oils to canvas
With stern to guide it on its way
At graceful pace to watch awhile
The passing scene to scrutinize
Of country and of town
Ahead the gates of sturdy lock
where calm meets turbulence
As the aqueous straight must even up
To different level
No longer impelled by equine power
And rarely used for mainstay trade
Just aggregate and people pleasure
But highly prized by one and all
Africa, why are you excited so much
with roasted chicken you get each year
coming to you from foreign poultry farms
Can they lay eggs that can hatch, multiply?
Africans, why are you excited so much
with rusted spanners you sign for each season
coming in to build grass-thatched huts
Can they build industrial complexes in Africa?
Africans, why are you excited so much,
with expertise you invite for every project,
coming in waves of hawkers, advisers?
Can they build independent African economy?
Roasted chicken, rusted spanners are exciting
to Africa with eyes covered by fogs and mists