Pinkie Cat was more than a teensy tiny bit fine
She was the ultimate pink-a-lated pretty feline.
She upgraded and uplifted our old folk congo line
Dancing her two-step self, with a glitzy shine.
Pinkie Cat was the ritziest cat we’d ever seen.
She danced her tail off and threw off a sheen.
We toms watched, thinking she was pretty keen.
She gave me a batted eye look, she is a queen.
Saffron petals, plucked rhythmically
Until a single petal remains attached
Not the answer I desire, so I move on
Find the next flower in the garden
Loves me yes, loves me not
Over and over until the last one stands tall
Whimsically revealing, he loves me so
Elated, I skip through the golden field
Rejoicing in my youthful fantasy
Sunflower Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury
05/20/2021
Consoling is echo of love, forever I have heard and known
Oh, how foolish was my youth, searching destiny all alone
Meeting you was utopian debut, and as I did, you felt it too
Indelibly in memories etched, there is no life without you
Never will I do that again, being on road has not been fun
Glad I trudged when I was young, now that trek is all done
Back I am in your hold, as melodies bold, tenderly unfold
Acceding to euphoric feelings two amorous hearts behold
Conjuring images, once dormant, latent clues tugging anew
Kindling now, bright and true, as clandestine passions woo
Home again, I feel charmed, hypnotized in seductive glance
Obsequious in your loving arms, adoring eyes of romance
Mesmerized in soul’s liaison, as bells of joy toll on and on
Elated now, I end my odyssey greeting you in newer dawn
February 28, 2021
Placed 1st: Coming back home poetry contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
i'm doing what
the French
did once
have a wife
and have
a lover
but she's not
a mistress
to me
she's simply
a mystery
to me
she's out
loudly in
spiring
springing
words
on me
in mistrans
lated
poetry
and non
blinking
photography
i'm happy
as she
exactly
makes my
day as i
make
my bed and
that being
said she
greets me
every
night
in my thoughts
i'm holding
tight but
not to ever
let her go
where
her
dreams
will carry
her but
still buried
in my soul she
shall go
to live
her
life and i
will think
of what life
would be
without
her
W-ords
A-re
L-ovingly
T-old
E-xpressing
R-eal
D-evotion
E-ven
L-ife
A-nd
M-ind
A-re
R-ighfully
E-lated
Topic: Poet (Walter de la Mare)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Jersey Shore was where my family picnicked every year
Under the weeping willow with a spraying fountain near
Nineteen ninety-eight we saw a bald eagle fly west
Eagles always soar that time of year to their nest
Though it was a chilly June we swam in the reverie
Encompassed in frigid waters, we still enjoyed our family
Elated we ate sandwiches and drank fresh lemonade
Needing each other with laughter as in the sun we laid
This tradition became a yearly custom in early afternoon
Holding on the memories of the Jersey Shore in June
Juneteenth Contest
Edward Ibeh
July 7, 2018
Favourite flames play in my mind,
Igniting a precious find,
Rages through the very being,
Elated, I find me freeing;
In Your Presence, I am refreshed,
Good waves wash over me afresh,
Never have I felt so cosy,
Instantly, I'm pink and rosy,
To these comforting thoughts I cling,
Imagination - What joy you bring!
Near You is where I want to be,
Great God, You're my eternity.
Musing over these fiery thoughts,
Eternal blessing have I got.
12/15/16
(I've often imagined myself to be God's favourite child and that fire of imagination makes me feel blessed)
SOUP RAP
You can pass me the biscuits, get a chicken from the coup
An give me a bowl of poetry soup
Since I schmoozed wid da muse an I started to write
It’s sure given me a real big appetite
Cos until last year I ain't never writ a poem
From my brain to my fingers didn't know which way I’m goin
But I now got da buzz, verses poppin hip hoppin
I'll keep on 'til they tell me it's time to be stoppin
We got poems that are sad we got poems that are glad
We got poems that say 'why you treatin me so bad!'
We got poems that are tough we got poems that are gentle
Poems so sentimental that they drive me nearly mental
Poems written in a purple haze alcoholic
Poems written in a field - pastoral and bucolic
See I'm learnin to be lit'rate usin good words not obscene
Words like pastoral an' bucolic whatever they mean
So gimme dat soup from the big tureen
Diip my pen in the saurus if you know what I mean
When the words are plated I’ll be re-stim-u-lated
And my verses contemplated be appre-ci-ated
So put your hands in the air all you poetry soupers
Get it on, solid gone, you da troupers souper douper
Your skin glows like a golden apple
blossoms lated as the rose
in the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your piano voice
and leaps like a cat at the whisper of your
name,Vee.
The evening ascends in on a great owl.
I am calmed by your vesture that
I may dry your tears of anger.
As my feet falls from my bed,
it reminds me of your town.
In the hushed,
I listen for the last buzzing
of the bees.
My heated eyes leaps to your swag.
I waited in the crystal moonlight
for your secret pen,
so that we may write as one,
face to face,
in search of the glorious red
and spiritual class of love
It is just complicated
no matter how I try it is
difficult I guess it
is not meant to be
Took me time to
realise needs no
answer nor understanding
yet I still tried
Sometimes wondered
other days lated just
for me to get an answer
hey,it is just be
Longed for long time
answer but ended up
confusing myself I
guess I tried too hard
Impatiently waiting for
the un-know but tried
as if I understand yet
more I tried at least
I tried
I tried for moments,
times but tried I did
nothing but tried
at least I tried.
Loveliness Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Lady of my life carrying so much wonder with an
Opal birthstone, a gem to match her smile, she's
Vivacious by nature and brown eyes sparkling...
Ella Rose, my spring fountain sprays while
Latticed hands held crossing the street with
Induced electricity sparking my fire
Naughty while working on her homework and
Elated when her daddy comes home
Sassy days indeed, still perfect in my eyes but...
Shhh...my lovely lady sleeps like an angel
Date Written: February 12, 2016
Home Sweet Home Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Haven of safety free from shadows
Orchids freshly picked in the kitchen
Mamma baking Dutch apple pie
Eating home cooked meals every night
Serenity of memories by the fireplace
Wagging his tail, sweet lil' Mugsy
Entertaining family every Sunday
Entering I feel a dependable refuge
Together our house becomes a home
Habitual prayers at the dinner table
Origins of roots through generations
My home is a harborage glued with love
Elated security built from scratch
Date Written: January 31, 2016
In Deutschland they're called Schmetterling
Mariposa down in Spain,
And although they're called, by different names
They're really quiet the same
Borboleta sounds like fun to say
and Farfalla twist my tongue
But when they're seen in France
They're simply Papillon
But in the Scottish hills
Where they migrate with desire
They call them Dalán-dé
When trans-lated mean "Gods Fire"
No matter what you call them
When their beauty meets my eye
I have to take a moment
To enjoy the Butterfly
As the depression sets in
I don't know where to began
loss of a child
to the wild flower
I hope she grows within
Abuse of another
but... they still chose each other
Sadden I wish she could see
what I escaped
Before I would have been be-lated
And this I'm stating
Abused I was
Addicted I was
Depressed I was
Heart broken I was
Taken I was
And still stand
with no other hand
within mine
The sea I throw all the hatred
I have within my harden heart
Trying to make a new start
My glass up to the ending
of a sad story
and to a "Happy Ever After This"
A look into my none published book "Get It Together"