Tritina (three tercets with one final line).
I will return as you taught me to read a god gifted total benign, even after nine
I will return as you taught me to see the specific Night of Knight M Shyamalan
I will return as you taught me to listen to the nitty gritty a lot, and the system
told the family sift an autistic family food, Trying dough for far too long in frame
They are class of mishaps, birds of the same feather and you are a linear secular
practice along one way, the other one is pedagogy of monolithic behavioral norm
I told time as I wrote once a power point key. Did commit a tavern charm
Time elapses and time begins, and time stamps the truest may, say so and so.
Time has her graceful heed to vilify the cover page elsewhere, to May to mow.
They blew the divine up, with the silentmost Neon light, landed, to reach for the show!
Tranquil, calm, kind
A storm beneath it all
Joyful, happy, fake
Alone in my wake
Mind is dark
Life seems stark
A box too small
Thoughts that crawl
Feeling so low
As the roof collapses
And time elapses
Skin too tight
How to make it right
You have the key
Depression tormented me
Trapped, scared, alone
Atone
Knick-knacks, bottle caps, pop tabs, and acid
The reflux of my mind of many memories redacted
Connections don't elucidate the fuzzy things that happen
Only emphasize the vacuity of brains fried and flattened
I wouldn't deign to age another decade with this habit
But self-control's a feeble virtue in youthful years uncounted
Demote me to a lesser life where everything is vapid
My rancor for the world only grows as time elapses
I press on indulgently into the sugared gasses
The romance of it influence next generations addicts
For boys discover empathy and girls affirm their status
They haughtily plod to the tracks as the sully train passes
I notice a face with myriad bent distress.
With eyes that include a trace of sadness,
A dreary routine without a success story,
A vivid photo of the topic dyed with clarity.
His elements are unemotional and calm,
Seeing elapses on the aegis of life qualm.
Love has been his mate and accomplice.
He deemed it right by the slow compass.
A wiped-out execrable ruffled face is rough.
Neediness mutiny yet glad for his estate bluff,
The abysmal face conceals a delicate heart.
His soul is more aware than it seems at first.
Written: June 19, 2022
The Pastel Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Craig cornish
A poem, lovely as a compost pile,
One lingers, sifts the elements awhile.
At first unclear, not all is evident;
Sharp images emerge as time is spent.
Though pieces, separate, may cause chagrin,
When taken as a whole, beauty's within.
To mull, to stew, to tease suggestions out
Though time elapses, ere they take shape, sprout.
For oft, a new direction is deduced,
Organic thoughts are grown, notions produced.
A poem such as this is never spurned,
But contemplated often, gently turned.
————-
FIRST PLACE WINNER
For the "A poem lovely as a" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Written 03/03/2022
Rows of sprouted thoughts have withered
dying of thirst, drying up in a field of grief,
and I, their neglectful sower, helplessly sit
as time elapses, watching them expire.
November 1, 2021
Liberum Divisa 8 Contest
sponsor:: Gregory R. Barden
Excerpt from 'The Bereft Poet' 1/24/21
The pain is so real
I've gather so much guts to make a deal
Please the masses and measure how time elapses
How can I come to love so much, that even in dispair and the lack of love
I can shine and my curls so defined by your mere presence
How can I come to deceive such wonderful presents
While in my lifetime I keep wasting the wishes
Just like if it were some dirt to rinse of the dishes
How could I forget, when my heart felt alive
My soul so bright, the night so dark and the shadows keep creeping, following me in my narrow path
Are we to be forlorn because we are the same
Are we to hide from ourselves and everyone else
Many of us are afraid, we’re only to blame
For my love, you shall not be forgotten
In rue of light of all Summer nights and days
Perhaps one day hence, our love not forbidden
And we’ll dance in a meadow of daisies
Like those like us except for this one way
Come Monsoon, their love, certainly, will fade away
But ours, my dear, set in a Summer Stone
Will hold through rain and drought, and constant pain
Whence Summer elapses, promise to forget
For in the next life, we shall try again
Might we succeed, bask in the glory and reign
21 May 2021
Oh my brother, permit me please
Release the grip, ease my larynx
I die gasping for breath.
Lincoln, the Abe, sighed and signed
To restrict not, but to foster brotherhood
Time elapses, but your ingrained grudge not erased
Give me space, enough to breath;
Give me air,
To live, believe and relieve my burden; Of history.
It’s a race to merge our color
Oh my brother, run
Run against Time..
And
Permit me please.
There's a hole in my soul, so wide and so vast,
it gives me no future and leaves me no past.
Remorse and regrets, for the choices I've made,
now hammer my brain, in a living cascade,
of roads left un-taken and paths unexplored,
of things that I've longed for, of those gone ignored.
Dreams of the dreams, and of what might have been,
the costs for time wasted, the wages of sin.
Procrastination, it taking those turns,
the places I've passed by, where bridges were burned.
The loss of those moments that can't be replaced,
a world of 'what if's?, ' is what I now face.
Oh my mind is so fraught, my will vastly frozen,
with thoughts of those choices, that I've never chosen.
With time that elapses, so quickly somehow,
to bring me this day, the here and the now.
I'm drinking the bottom, the grounds in the brew,
with a mind full of memories, the things I can't do.
I would wish to return to that moment in time,
where all possibilities, were possibly mine.
Where I was a writer of meaningful verse,
where I found acceptance and knew my life's worth.
As life is cut short by times' ruthless hand,
I've broken the HOURGLASS…lost all the sand...
Letting go was never possible
Holding on was too cynical a dream
Life feels mystic and miserable
Somewhere in between, to struggle for more
holding onto a strained thread of perseverance
As, perhaps, sometimes love is not enough.
Time elapses along with its own course
Teaches the mind a lot of perplexing moods
Like drizzling rain, murmuring wind, or the sounds of silence
In humility and submission for forgiveness
In a monologue of hope and faith
Yet, knowing the truth of the innermost soul
That perhaps, sometimes love is not enough.
I will say my prayer today for a defeat,
For hoping for a blooming flower with its own virtue
Proving the ticking clock wrong and conspiring with a selfish motive
Hoping my belief will not be a hot topic of group distortion for an utter denial
And, knowing , sometimes love is not enough to fill up the blanks.
And I love her, as I love me, failing both perhaps.
As, perhaps, sometimes love is not enough.
Courtesy: A calendar registering today's date ( 9-11-2019)
--- Matamoros, 2:00p.m., December 6, 2014
I sit at this table
(as I have done many times)
wielding a ball-point pen,
with insufficiencies of
thoughts and words --
out of place.
All the while
the two dogs --
Guero and Princesa --
shower their affections,
licking and nuzzling,
in return for caresses,
pats, and gifts of food.
They respond in kind
to attention and gentle treatment.
A nearby train
sounds its horn,
blocks a street,
further clogging traffic
in this unhealthy border city.
The day goes on, time elapses slowly.
It is very warm.
I exchange minimal phrases
with the occupants
of this house.
The owner has just
returned from visiting
his dying elder brother
at the Social Security Hospital.
We leave to visit
an acquaintance in the countryside.
A random fragment
from a life.
Time elapses,
Time begins.
May Time adds
some essence, some colors
To the life of the great warrior of nature
Who hopes, fights, torn apart
Still, never lose heart.
Time elapses.
Time begins.
For reasons, we pour words,on
Pages, white as floating clouds
Only to understand the kindness
Of the words of the highest one
In the darkness, in sorrow, in our despair.
within the parting of titian stained skies
a wisp of crimson elapses from sight
as a gossamery wind amplifies
lullabies falling limpid in hushed night
beneath the willow, i watch as it weeps
then cradle myself in its fragile limbs
'tis there that most forgotten memories seep
as the salty spray of loneliness brims
you reach out...a shadow in lambent light
i feel death's touch upon you through night's air
with wings wide open you take off in flight
unable to free me of this nightmare
this willow tree, though once my childhood crutch
tucks me in its folds, like a mother's touch
December 27, 2019
Best Sonnet of 2019 Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
N-ew
O-pen
R-ay
I-s
C-learly
A-bating
A-nother
N-ight
N-egating
E-vening
S-torm
A-s
R-ainy
T-ime
E-lapsesl
Topic: Birthday of Norica Anne Sarte (October 21)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Sub Categories
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