Best Workshop Poems
A clutter of wood and dust and cobwebby corners,
And dappled sun shining through dirty windows;
On his work table a drawing; a project in progress,
And tin cans and jars of nails and screws on shelves.
Tools on hooks waiting for hands that will never come,
I touch the old tools like they were the finest of lace;
And I cannot help thinking, who will want all this,
He was a simple man, my father, and I loved him so.
His death was fast, no one expected him to leave,
In a blink he was gone, and all I have are memories;
I linger there with the dust that floats in the sun,
And I weep and weep for what I have lost this day.
Then, I pick up his pencil and on his paper I write,
I write this poem of pain and it is the beginning;
The beginning of my writing as an adult with soul,
I leave the child, that was me, and become a poet,
Today.
_________________________
July 21, 1997
Poetry/Free Verse/Dad's Workshop
Copyright Protected, ID 1997-714-811-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym
Entered in the contest, Celebrating My Fav's,
sponsor, Andrea Dietrich
First Place
________________________
Entered in the contest, Any Poem, #36
(a poem that placed in one of her past centests)
sponsor, Poet Destroyer
First Place
________________________
For the contest, A poem written before Poetry Soup,
sponsor, Poet Destroyer
Fourth Place
LIFE WITH ITS OBSTACLES
It does become hard
It does has its obstacles
It will tackle you down
There will be challenges
There will be a big dark cloud
There will be big mountain standing in front of you
You won't believe that you will pass through
When hard times strikes over
Step intpo your inner strength
Know who you are
Remember where you come from
Reminisce of where you are going
Remember you'r ambition
Remember your mission and vision you set up for life
All hard times come and go
Nothing last forever either its happiness nor sadness
They both have to happen in your life,so that your future can be fiminine and stable
They are there to make you strong person and build concrete fundation of your future
When hard times strikes be happy and enjoy every moment of that
Smile at the confusion and never ask why me
Say thanks GOD I came across this, this is an awesome experience ever
When hard times strikes
Laugh, Sing, scream, cry
Never forget who you are
Never give up
You have to fall,then rise
Nobody said this life is a smooth route with no pot holes and mountains
Know who you are, believe in yourself, love yourself...
Then hard times will fade
The North Pole looks so pretty like a winter fairy land
It is Christmas Eve and everyone must lend a hand
Frosty the snowman is busy having such fun
He's teasing the elves and making them run
He says ….
‘Go get some trimming and wrap all those gifts …
don’t overload the sled or it’ll get stuck in snow drifts’
The elves work so hard as Christmas is on its way
They need all the toys ready for that very special day
Sled bells get attached, oh how those jingle bells ring
The elves are getting so exited they begin to sing….
“When Santa got stuck in a snow drift he began to shout...
He’d better take a spade with him to dig the presents out”
Santa Claus stood there laughing in his coat of ruby red
He asks the elves to get ready to help him load his sled
Huge sacks of presents are piled high on the bright red sled
The reindeer's had been resting; Santa roused them from their bed
With a hearty ho ho ho Santa and the reindeer's take to the sky
He hopes all the children are tucked in bed - they shouldn’t see him fly!
On Christmas Day the children wake, their faces are aglow
They see the pile of presents and the sled tracks in the snow
Contest Ho Ho Ho
Required words....
Elves, Frosty the snowman, Christmas, jingle bells, toys, sled, sled bells, Santa Claus, trimming, Winter fairy land
11~28~16
An unseasonably warm November day
In my yard the unsuspecting children play
Left in my loving care with words unsaid
Unaware of the tears they would shed
Future's written, words are hurled
Only eight but a girl of the world
Hair of gold, no worries, no cares
Not ready for what life would bear
"Where's daddy?, He didn't say goodnight
It's not like him, it doesn't seem right
Something's wrong, I need him now
Take me to him, take me right now"
My tears did fall that solemn night
My brother walked into the light
Taken too soon, no chance to fight
A child's nightmare, an uncles fright
Fourteen years and the tears still fall
His life was perfect, he had it all
A wife, two kids, God his right hand man
Succumbing to the fate of His master plan
My heart still bleeds for my sweet little niece
"Goodbye my daddy, may you rest in peace"
**Looking for constructive criticism...please voice your opinions**
revised***
An unseasonably warm autumn day
in the yard unsuspecting children play.
Left in loving care with words unsaid
unaware of tears she soon would shed.
Futures are written, words are hurled,
only eight, a girl of the world
hair of gold, no worry, no care.
Not ready for what life would bear.
Where is daddy?, He didn't say goodnight.
It's not like him, it just doesn't seem right.
Something is wrong, I need my daddy now.
Take me to him, take me to him right now.
Many tears fell that solemn eve
dear father, into the light did leave.
Taken too soon, no chance to fight
child's nightmare, an uncles fright.
Fourteen years have passed and tears still fall
His life seemed perfect, thought he had it all.
A wife, two kids, God as his right hand man
succumbing the fate of His master plan.
Sad hearts still bleed for this sweet little niece.
Goodbye my daddy, may you rest in peace.
A clutter of wood and dust in cobwebby corners,
and dappled sun shining through dirty windows;
on his work table a drawing; a project in progress,
and tin cans and jars of nails and screws on shelves.
Tools on hooks waiting for hands that will never come,
I touch the old tools like they were the finest of lace;
and I cannot help thinking, who will want all this,
he was a simple man, my father, and I loved him so.
His death was fast, no one expected him to leave,
in a blink he was gone, and all I have are memories;
I linger there with the dust that floats in the sun,
and I weep and weep for what I have lost this day.
Then, I pick up his pencil and on his paper I write,
I write this poem of pain and it is the beginning;
the beginning of my writing with a true poet's soul,
I leave the child within me, and become a poet,
today.
_________________________________
For Father's Day
Poetry/Verse/Dad's Workshop
Copyright Protected, ID
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
My first love - when we ended,
They told me to pray to God,
And that he would make time,
My new best friend.
And with the love I had for you,
The despair I would fall out of.
My second love - when we ended,
They did not tell me anything,
For what really could they say?
I sit and watch the hands of grace,
Embalming memories of emotion.
Love forbidden to ever die but,
Peace in how under time it hides.
So I still know,
In spirits and parallels,
I am still with you both,
And this was never written.
#2
From a brunette final encore,
they told me to pray to God,
and that he would make time
my new best friend.
And with the love I had for you,
the despair I would fall out of, but
when blond strands reached split ends,
they did not tell me anything,
for what really could they say?
I sat and watched the hands of grace,
embalming memories of emotion.
Love forbidden to ever die, but
peace in how under time it hides.
So I still know,
in spirits and parallels,
I am still with you both,
and this was never written.
BASH my skull in why don't you
since you've bashed my heart in
you've torn my soul from my body
you spread it thin
the shear taste of your humiliation
leaves a sour taste in my mouth
as you twisted my heart
as ruined my mind
BASH my head in why don't you
BEND my body to your will
I'm one of your puppets
Cruel puppeteer
your words mark my back,
with bold words of ghostly shame.
your words encase pain
your words cuts through bones
i display my scar
as time only would sooth me
as i patiently wait, for when
The puppet,
Masters the puppeteer
The Christmas Elf sat on the shelf,
The Christmas tree stood tall in the living-room,
With beautiful lights and decorations,
Santa's toy shop come to life,
The Nutcracker tall and shy,
A pretty doll nearby,
The toy train that zoomed around the room,
A big drum and a piano quiet companions,
The toy castle and the doll house,
A Christmas toy mouse,
The sacred Christmas manager,
A story book about the savior,
Many more story books on the shelf,
Parents and children await Santa's visit,
Christmas night with all the lights in the living-room,
Shinning brightly and the pretty house stood,
They are all blessed on Christmas day.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
For a year l have been travelling around the world
Searching for the betrayer of you and I
I travelled to the four cardinal point of the world
I went to Burundi central Africa
Where river Nile was, I asked the Nile
Of the great enemy of you and I
Your great enemy is with you, said the Nile
I went to USA. to lake Itasca in Minnesota
Where the river Mississippi was,I asked the Mississippi
Of the betrayer of you and I
Your betrayer is with you, said the Mississippi
I wonder in solitude, who could be the enemy
I was unable to go home on that day
Because the day is already down, so I decide
To stay for the night at the coast of Mississippi
I heard a voice shriek in my ear
I woke up in my dream
Gravity pulled me high in to the sky
I heard the voice again in my ear
Oh! my son you are wellcome
Look down to the land of livings
I saw how people were causing destruction to the land of living
Hatred grown between a couple
Brothers and sisters were killing each other
Malicious gossip between two friends
'Do you now know the betrayer'
Said the lord
No my lord
Your great enemy is your nose
I was lost in awe and wonder,how could a nose
Be the great enemy of you and I,your nose
Can smell all these good foods for you to eat
And you are using it to breathe
And yet it betrayed you
Your nose can't smell someone malice at you
Someone of dangerous behaviour
If not because of your nose
Life wouldn't have corrupted to this level
I woke up from my dream
I realised it was a dream
And the betrayer I have been searching for all this while is NOSE.
12/5/2015
Contest: Workshop poem
Sponsor: Cyndi MacMillan.
A wounded heart cried, filled its lonely glass
Held and felt with anguished hands of sorrow
To pray memories fade as tears trespass
Through years of time her love had to borrow
I try to remember when love went wrong
Only fragmented pictures from the day
She disappeared as her shadow grew long
A marbled world turned quietly to clay
Cataclysm within, covering dreams
With nothing to recognize or save
My eyes counted tears with thinning long streams
and scattered monuments of yesterday
I felt a shared breath with a pain that's kept
and found a heart wounded as its eyes wept
Here's my workshop poem
First change
A wounded heart cries, fills its lonely glass.
Held and felt with anguished hands of sorrow.
Clinging to this drink of hindered morass,
For years of her love I had to borrow
I try to remember when love went wrong,
Only fragmented pictures from the day.
She disappeared as her shadow grows long,
A marbled world turned quietly to clay
Time washes all that memories contain.
Still, loss of love remembered can fade.
The years of regret secretly remain,
Uncoiling ribbons of sadness inlaid.
A wounded heart cries, fills its empty glass,
Love forever lost, memories trespass.
The world slowly dies.
Wherever we go, life gets worse.
We see thirst of power,
A phenomenal drought of an agony!
Grassy lands turn to thorns.
Blood rages in to seas!
It’s frightening to believe,
The world is in state of insanity.
Who would walk in fire,
With greedy kings to get the throne?
Who would want to see the world frozen,
If we are numb to feel the cold?
Do we need to wait?
See ourselves eaten my big waves?
Witness how the earth will change
Turn everything in to grey?
Drowned by worldly desires
But no one would…
No one ever wants to picture
How death lavishly perishes mankind.
If we’ll build a castle of nightmare
It will only show that we choose to fail
If it happens that we are not clean yet?
We’ll watch our souls burning in hell.
his big willow tree
a shaded workshop below
many memories
Anne Rutherford
We were beginning
to gather
at the "Shut up and Write"
workshop on Broadway
I brought a couple
of chapbooks of my
poetry
and an article published
in a collectibles journal
A Hispanic woman
told me she was writing
a memoir
I showed her my
chapbook - she smiled
Last time I came
there was a
prosecutor who wanted to write
"literary fiction"
Also, there was someone
who was heavily
into finishing his
comic book
It seemed that only
the Hispanic woman and
myself have come to
"Shut up and write"
She is busy typing
up her memoir
I start work on a story
Across from me
two young Asians have begun to work
on getting their Series 7 license
They are working intensely
A writing workshop in a coffee shop
"Shut up and Write"
Indeed!
That Salad Went Right Through Me
I've always wanted to write a poem called
“That Salad Went Right Through Me”.
And I would wager upon its best destiny:
To begin with, there is the Universal Theme--
For who has not gurgled around a conference table
at half past the last radish scrap?
Who, once stalled, has not
persistently punched the flusher
to muffle the borborygmus din?
But on a loftier note, I prefer
to think of my paean emblazoned
in the annals of first line indexes,
where, as one wanders lonely as a cloud
over dactyls and tropes,
“That salad went right through me”
trots right off the page
demanding a fervid flip to its leaf.
And future discourse plied at workshops,
and other such rarefied privies of poesy
might thusly include:
"Did you write a poem for the class today?"
Yes...“That Salad Went Right Through Me”
"Well then, you should consider the cheesecake."
Family Ties
By Franklin Price
5/10/2015
Family ties are always there
Throughout our lives for whom we care
Expanding as our journeys change
These family ties will rearrange
As a baby mom and dad
Initially were all we had
Maybe siblings to make a fuss
To feed and change our pants for us
Soon came friends not in the house
With some good fortune loving spouse
New family to call our own
And family ties have further grown
Our chosen one new family
The old one still exists to see
A balance make between the two
Both are dear the old and new
If fortune smiles with loving face
And life goes with predicted pace
A child or more are added in
And family ties expand again
As time goes by and we grow old
To grandchildren our tales are told
Knots tightened then for future kin
Where we leave off they will begin
Tie knots square and make them strong
Make children feel that they belong
And when we've left this world behind
There will be family ties that bind
Family Ties – take 2
By Franklin Price
5/10/2015
Family ties are always there
throughout our lives for whom we care.
Expanding as our journeys change,
family ties will rearrange
As a child our moms and dads
initially were all we had.
Older siblings made a fuss
and even changed our pants for us.
Soon came friends not in the house,
with some good fortune, a loving spouse,
new family to call our own
and family ties had further grown.
Chosen ones new family.
The old ones still there to see.
A balance made between the two,
both were dear the old and new.
If fortune smiled with loving face
and life went with predicted pace,
a child or more were added in
and family ties grew once again.
Grandchildren arrived as we grew old.
They're bored with us as tales are told.
Yet will tell the tales to future kin,
our tales passed on, theirs will begin
Tie knots square and make them strong,
Make children feel that they belong
And when we've left this world behind
There will be family ties that bind