Bobby still remembers his High School Sophomore year
Rarely do his other memories still ring so clear
But he also recalls letters to Christine (his girl at the time)
They are so vivid he can quote every line
Sometimes they skipped their classes just to talk for a while,
He adored that girl to madness,
her brilliance and style
That year was precious,that year was a bit wild
He's not living with any regrets,
That year and that girl left impressions he'll never forget
By: J.N.R Dutton
I thought
I was shouting into the void
holding my brush
dropping my colours into the canvas
listening to voices
memories
traces of longing
moments in time.
No magic wand
to wind words
and speak my feel and thought
Spellbinding are my brushstrokes
they are my language and song.
Forget me not
See me
an Artist
call me.
Step into my world
need not know how I translate my word
Just see, till you lose your senses
Ascend and leave behind all the fences
Touch what makes your spine clutch
Feel, till no ground under your feet.
Then respond
reach for that bond
and learn
“Being seen matters”
Offering the gifts of the heart matters
Oozing audacity and joy
truly matters.
My fear might not disappear
but I am here
on a journey of no compeer
unlearning
understanding
embracing all that makes no sense
“Not knowing what to do next to grow”
Forget me not.
Besma
July 13th, 2026
Inspired by Zoe Davey's painting "Forget Me Not"
Ekphrasis Form poetry contest sponsored by Silent One.
out of a shallow dip
catch-water field
of landscape polished rock
a shock of pregnant junipers
in pine pitch laden sunlight
olive-green fires arise
and my eyes bedazzle
gossamer
floating specks
of bees
new hatched
butterflies
golden jump
and spiral
as if tethered
to child’s witching wand
random rode
the windless air
Who feel, as stepped back from
Do not fit in
Tense, uneasy, while of self
Are too aware
To these, its impressions
Life's, its liver's
As a show, as its actor
Left with such are.
VISUAL IMPRESSIONS-:-
stimulated
creative
poignant
distinguished
devotion
in a NEW INTERPRETATION
ablaze
perspectives
deploy
inherent
energy
with ELOQUENT USE OF LIGHT
concentrated
luminous
powered
sourced
choice
You pull me in leaving behind sunken footprints
impressions that will disappear as the next round of waves rush in
TOPOGRAPHICAL IMPRESSIONS
accessible
panoramics
emanating
with
attractive
simplicity
complete
focused
interest
in
affectionate
familiar
memories
&tendencies
a plurality
pictured
ironically
dearly-cherished
manifestly
transformed
into
future
tangible
universality
COHERENT IMPRESSIONS-:-
preferred
echoed
elemental
eloquent
feelings
with AMBIGUITY
gratifying
vanished
urbanisation
preserving
faience
in ORNAMENTAL MONOTONY
arresting
imaginations
anonymous
acquaintance
unity
ORGANIC IMPRESSIONS-:-
ultimate
perceptive
longings
idealise
identity
into PIVOTAL FIGURES
stubbornly
fanciful
excesses
theatrically
sentimental
with ALLEGORIC EMPHASIS
strictly
defined
exampled
praised
inspiration
Autumn gathers art supplies she chooses colors carefully
Yellow, gold, red, and brown then black and white for trunks of trees
She starts to draw a meadow to sketch a perfect scene
and when she lifts her brush to paint, she sighs ...
"Oh My!"
I have no green.
IMPRESSIONS OF DEPTH-:-
style
qualitatively
refined
adorned
precisely
with DIFFERENT HUES
abstractedly
flowered
personified
surrounded
encircled
then SLIGHTLY SHIFTED
fostered
conceived
evoked
repeats
unrestrained
Just as important as how you do a job – is how you leave it.
They label me "weird," they whisper "psycho,
They run and hide, a fearful, hushed acclaim.
Then drawn by something they can't quite define,
They creep back slowly, in a hesitant line.
They sit with me, a cautious, gentle start,
And piece by piece, I take their world apart.
The mask dissolves, the image starts to fade,
The monster they imagined, no longer displayed.
They see the truth, the heart that beats within,
The empathy, the battles I did win.
The kindness offered, understanding deep,
The secrets that I faithfully will keep.
And gratitude blooms where judgment once had grown,
They see I'm different, standing here alone.
Not like the others, lost in common throng,
My spirit whispers a uniquely different song.
Then words of sorrow, apologies sincere,
For hasty judgments born of doubt and fear.
They see the value of a soul so rare,
And find redemption in the moment shared.
AN OPEN FORM VERSE
absorbed
by colour
unrestrained
&
sensual
engaged
in
measured
contrasts
of
aesthetic
style
proportionate
impressiond
adorning
existence
in
imprecise
perceptions
Superficial impressions, like the sunset ripple
Museums, beaches, cafes by the score
The phrasebook conversations with the service people
Cliches in their predictable galore
You’re saved from depth and filled with little pleasures
The charms of tourism, early breakfasts, late night bed
You travel light or loaded, spot some treasures
And file them in the archive, to forget.
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