Long Cyndi Poems
Long Cyndi Poems. Below are the most popular long Cyndi by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cyndi poems by poem length and keyword.
expectations blurred the page
of motherhood. I thought it through,
each point of view. My plans were laid
a shade of pink, a hue so new
would come upon the heels of two
who sketched my world with shades of blue
I'd framed her world for my display
a trophy of my fantasy
chiseled clear, I saw it all,
beyond the stage of snakes and snails
growing boys, trucks and toys
tossed across my pregnant form
doing mindless daily chores, I crafted dreams
rehearsed the themes, disarming tales of nursery rhymes
I'd plan her life to suit my theme
but, who was I to redesign
a perfect child, I thought I owned?
sowing selfish schemes, she'd be
cloned to be a form of me - I'd live my dream
through her, all mine, to hone, redo
a mother's fragile paper doll
I did lose sight of destiny
compared, alike, - we shared a trace
resemblance of hair and face
presumptions swept between the lines
she was not meant to be defined
this child of God withheld her dreams
of ways to make the stars align
this aquamarine was never mine
what stirred her heart - vast worlds apart
she felt the sun within her soul
and thus, I've learned
I must let go
she must be free, not who I own
I've closed a chapter to that book
one looks in awe, as she became
a person who can touch the soul
beyond my dreams, she brings to all
a million lights, they've never seen before
emerging stars are bright with gold
hers comes alive. old dreams are cold
no two alike, as it should be
each one a star with different poles
I've owned the fear of letting go
____________________________________________________
4/20/16
Contest: OWN IT!
Sponsor: Cyndi McMillan
I know I love my mirror
A ***** choice
Beside the pool
The tormenting tool
Controlling from the unconscious
The omnipresent Narcissus
Repeated lakes
Repeated snakes
The lake-love in breath
Moments of repeated death
Macbeth in the corridor quest
Right left above and underneath
I hate the shadow
In the tank and meadow
In the ankle heel and toes
The pool with today and tomorrow
In dream the same stream
The child in the wild in the blood
The fascinating reflection in the lake
Mingled in a blue and pink sea gull take
The single aim and game
Always closing in on the heels
Placing the soul on the wheels
An illusory feel
A flame dance in dopamine
Rhymes after rhymes
Embracing the dewy you
A tormenting milieu
Oh ****
I disown it
Come tomorrow
I'll shut the gate at the bone marrow
___________________________
For the Poetry Contest : OWN IT!
Sponsored by: Cyndi MacMillan
In opposition they criticize all that is wrong
and all that is good, according to their agenda.
They put clogs in wheels, aided by defiant unions
and often bringing the country to a standstill
with senseless strikes and organized protests.
Mud is thrown at government and individuals;
much of it sticks; the end justifies the means.
During the run-up to elections they use the media
to their advantage; the message drummed over
and over during house visits and heated mass rallies
rousing the rabble with heartfelt oratory.
They promise transparency and accountability;
fair sharing of wealth, help to the homeless and
to the needy; curbing favours to friends of friends
by resorting to the ideal concept of meritocracy;
lowering taxes and bills and introducing new social
benefits that would put all on an equal footing.
Most of all they harp on the eradication of corruption.
They hold roadmaps to solve all the country’s woes.
They promise heaven on earth; they promise Utopia.
Glittering manifesto is presented with much fanfare.
The gullible, switchers and uneducated are brainwashed.
As expected, election produces the desired results and
the party in opposition gets in power...on promises!
Promises that cannot be kept. The devil wants his due.
He grins, pointing to the small writing on the manifesto...
The majority had failed to notice it. It reads...SUCKERS.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Contest: I Can’t Breathe
Sponsor: Cyndi MacMillan
Placing: 1st
A is for alertness so you know what's going on.
B is for the brain freeze you get before the dawn.
C is cardiopathy so you can keep the beat.
D is for dampness when your trying to beat the heat.
E is for the exema you try to wash away.
F is when you fail at it and it causes you dismay.
G is always good enough to get you through the day.
H is for happiness when it finally comes your way.
I is for intelligence that you accrued with interest.
J is jubilation if and when you do your best.
K is certainly kindness towards your fellow man.
L is for the living and doing what you can.
M is for the mood your in that seems to ebb and flow.
N is for your neighbor, I wonder if you know.
O is for the one and only that everyone should have.
P is for the peaceful people who soothe us like a salve.
Q is the quick temper that rips apart your soul.
R is the relentlessness that keeps you in the hole.
S is sleeping soundly like a little baby.
T is for trusting, and I don't mean maybe.
U is usually the ultimate goal that we are striving for.
V is for victory, well you know, when we all finally score.
W is wishing for things that we don't get.
X is for xanadu, a land we've not known yet.
Y is for the yesterdays you hope are still to come.
Z is when you zip your lip and everything is mum.
Well what more can a person say to help you understand?
The stage is set, take three steps and come and join the band.
For Cyndi Macmillan's ABC Couplet Contest
Let me set something straight -
Right here, right now!
Let me put India in the right perspective,
Let me banish some myths,
Some gross misconceptions,
And take you beyond elephants,
Sacred cows, snake charmers and yoga,
Beyond Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Taj Mahal,
To a civilization rooted for
over 5,000 years in the past
To a land rich - majestically rich -
In many cultures, customs and traditions,
In a bewildering variety of races,
Religions, languages and folk arts,
In a vibrant tradition of dance and music,
In religious festivals and traditional events,
In saints, sadhus, gurus and sages,
In gods, goddesses, munis and mahatmas,
In temples, palaces, shrines and monasteries;
I'll baby-steps you through a land
Of Vedas and Upanishads,
Of epic stories and incredible mythologies,
Of Ramayana, Mahabharata and Bhagavad Gita,
Through one of world's great spiritual sanctuaries,
Where religion is a way of life;
An overwhelming, complex land -
Its charm, its vitality and yes, its confusion,
Atonce alarming and enticing.
And that's the way India is:
Elusive, confusing, contradictory,
mysterious and exasperating!
Beyond easy description or analysis,
A phenomenal diversity of dress
and manners making one aware
of a different world -
A veritable fairyland!
No other country offers quite such
A spectacle of teeming masses that
continue to enrich the heritage of mankind,
Nowhere do the past and present
coexist in more colorful promiscuity -
An incomparable country,
Easy to love, hard to forget!
"There's only one India!" raved Mark Twain,
"A wonderland of fabulous wealth
and fabulous poverty, of splendor and rags ..."
"The cradle of the human race,
The birthplace of human speech,
The mother of history,
The grandmother of legend and
The great grandmother of tradition."
This, indeed, is my country
Where I was born -
An Indian at heart,
An American in spirit!
Namaste!
Khuda Hafiz, Jai Ramji Ki,
OM Radhe Shyam, Sat Sri Akal,
Jai Hind!!
~Love letters to the sub continent
contest by cyndi MacMillan
Here’s to Margaret - the Linton lassie.
She hails from the lovely land down under.
She’s a sweetie, and I bet she’s classy,
since she pens her poems like a wonder.
I met awesome poets when I came here,
but none like Marge, for she is much like me.
She’s both a poetess and sonneteer
who writes in forms of classic poetry.
One day dear Margaret just disappeared.
I sent her notes, but she did not reply.
And then some time ago she reappeared
just to leave again! I’m not sure why.
Marge says she’s coming back, so I’ll not fret.
More sonneteers I‘ve happily since met!
For Cyndi MacMillan's "Missing Soupers - We Love You"
Dad said this about the penny
Have one in your pocket to touch
You will never, ever be broke
Times, I have existed on the penny
Have one in your pocket to touch
I have many in various vessels
Times, I have existed on the penny
One day, I paid for my bus fare
I have many in various vessels
The church seems to like my pennies
One day, I paid for my bus fare
Pennies remind me of what Dad said
The church seems to like my pennies
You will never, ever be broke
Pennies remind me of what Dad said
Dad said that about the penny
________________________
September 5, 2012
Poetry/Pantoum/Penny Memories
Copyright Protected, ID 09-418-532-05
All Rights Reserved, 2012, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Penny Pantoum
Sponsors, Rhonda and Cyndi, HM. Judged 09/24/2012
Cherry blossoms stargaze as spring air comes;
East and west cross at Bells of Ireland: warm and calm;
Welling slowly to cede: tender sage thoughts,
Upon two hearts link, after hundreds of sought and fought.
Cathedral posts accent with ribbons of violets.
Congregate white orchids grin alongside the aisles,
Roseband sings tunes: forget-me-not to highest.
Wearing her lavender gown,Heather walks with smiles;
Clasp in her hands,tulip bouquet, guests she stun
Her Lilac in tuxedo waits: eyes locked tight in knot
Gentleness bestow from heavens, ever won
Their iris fuse glued; love radiating allot
Matching band's inscription: embroidered golden rings
Baby's breath, a grand wish soon very soon, will spring.
NOTE: All bold words are different flowers.. :) I always love flowers. I am always fascinated of their beauty and charm but more than these I am inspired by them: philosophically and emotionally as well ... :D
(c) Olive Eloisa
11:45pm
June 24, 2014
Sponsor Cyndi MacMillan
Contest Name GARDEN PARTY: VERB-alized NOUN-sense with FLORAL ACCENTS
placed 2nd place.. :) to God be the greatest glory :)
A summer kiss on winter night
precious gift enough to ignite
my teenage mind with burning flame
a neighbouring dame with sweet name
a cage-free bird on its first flight.
Many years ago but still bright
in my mind like day's first sunlight
and how I enjoyed when it came
a summer kiss.
Like molten wax of candle light
lips melted as she held me tight
passion's fire was hard to be tamed
a surprise gift from that sweet dame
taste of manhood on winter night
a summer kiss.
© kashinath karmakar (19th December 2011)
===============000=================
Placement:7th (Dec.2011)
Contest:Gifts Given,Gifts Received a Rondeau
Sponsor:Cyndi Macmillan
She's a mom from a poor family.
Everyday striving in a sidewalks.
No shelter,no roof to shed.
Her life is devastated.
No food ,she scavenges day by day.
She got pregnant,a man didn't stay.
Until one morning has came.
She'd delivered her son in a banquette.
She feeds baby on her breast,
So poor, she can't afford an expensive milk.
To feed a baby she all adore.
She is frustrated to give him ,
A better life, the safest home.
Until one coldest night.
The wind blows so strong.
Her baby suffered for an extreme cold.
She was baffled and nowhere else to run.
Taking her baby,found a tree to hide.
And was amazed by what she found,
the li'l life she fed on her breast,
no longer breathed, a cold cadaver.
The life she used to cradle, had left,
and gone in the midst of the night.
Tears fell down on her cheek,
and she mourned for a baby ,
She had given love and breath.
Based on the painting :"Mother and Child" from Stephanie Deshpande
Contemporary Figurative Art for the Contemporary Free Rhyme Contest of
Cyndi MacMillan