Long Feel for Poems
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(Hopefully these words are in beat with the lyrics from “The Hills are Alive” from “The Sound of Music”)
I write what I feel with poetic magic
while picturing things that I wish to see.
By letting thoughts flow with poetic magic,
there is not a place that I cannot be.
I take up my pen and I think of myself
in flight over clouds with some birds.
I soar through the sky as I fly and I fly
with the rhyme of my words.
I paint with my pen how the heaven’s hues
are first blue, then they’re pink!
I dip and I glide, and then into twilight I sink.
I write what I feel, for I am a poet.
I picture a thing as I hold my pen.
What flights I might take with poetic magic
as I write again!
For A Strand (1054) Poetry Contest
Dec. 2, 2021
Dear Elizabeth,
From the deep ocean floor of my soul
I cannot convey
How much appreciation, thanks and gratitude
I feel for you, for being
So decent and kind
As to fill me daily and completely
With thoughts and words from your lovely mind
Concerning the uniqueness and simplicity of my own.
While I am a mere seedling of words to live by,
You are a fully grown Sequoia, complete
With roots, trunk, limbs and leaves filled with
Immeasurable molecules of thought and inspiration.
You are also one of the very few, who
Take the time to read
Above, below and between the lines
And rarely, if ever criticize
Even when criticism is overdue.
Simply put, I think the world of you.
And although we’ve never met
I’m willing to bet
If we ever came eye to eye
I’d see your soul and you’d see mine
From down below and farther still
Into the ever expanding, blue-black sky.
I don’t even know why.
Other than there’s a purity in your heart
That shines like gold
In the early morning sun.
Keep shining.
It’s transforming and uplifting
And gives to myself and others
The light we need
To keep going
And flowing, like rivers to the stars.
And should we meet up there, somewhere, some when
I’ll know you well my friend
And pray you don’t forget me from afar. Ever
So dearly and sincerely,
A grateful, faithful, fellow Poet
WE SEE WHAT WE WANT TO SEE
Moon at noon allures me though barely visible.
Being shy, humbly shows face, if possible.
Moon rising at noon as salient, looking white.
Pale placid passive face, gloomy morose, not bright.
Under dazzling blazing Sun, Moon dull cool and calm
Day sky unbiased with both Sun - Moon to welcome.
Opal-faced opaque hazy crazy sad Moon
looking blunt misty wearisome flat bland at noon.
Subtle in sheen, crescent, half disc, full or gibbous
on monotonous journey as non-luminous.
I feel for Maroon Moon at noon, while all ignore.
Its abashed presence under Sun not to deplore.
I admire shiny Full Moon reflecting Sunlight.
But also search for Day Noon at No Moon night.
03/20/19
Edited on 06/05/21
Third Place
'We see, What We want to see' Contest by Daniel Turner
First Place
A Brian Strand Rhymed
Contest by Brian Strand
At fifteen I was filled with passionate dreams
God breathed possibilities through my ambitions
I learned to feel with my heart, visions of a caress
Whispering through me when I first met him, my fantasy
At twenty-three I was older and wiser, longing for a touch
Imagining he was with me, embracing my heart’s hopes
Touching me with reassurance, acceptance and compassion
Everything that would awaken in me a feeling of pure intimacy
At thirty-five I found myself dreaming of his generous spirit
Wondering across familiar reveries with a sense of urgency
Yearning for his hands stirring, awakening pleading from within
The mystery of his vigorous skills for pleasuring me warmed me
At forty-two I shared moments with him, nestled within his embrace
Reflecting on all the love we had seen arise between our secret expressions
Slowly, we discovered the opportunity to spread inspiration in our path
Amid the ones who saw our hearts and all that graced our circumstance
At fifty-five I came to him once again, after spending those years apart
We found a tenderness that could not be found in anyone else on earth
Together, we spend time learning and growing wiser with a sweet embrace
Knowing that love this strong and good comes around only once in this place
At times I worry about losing him again – amid the struggles to keep up
But there is a faith inside of me today that reminds me he has given me his love
Honesty, his passion, his tender caress – all that was lacking in my hopes
He is the one I long to share my life with and know will be in my heavenly home
God knows my heart and how I searched for him when I wasn’t in his grasp
God knows my spirit and how it reached out for this peace that I feel with him
God knows my hopes and dreams and how deeply I feel for this man that was
The one who got away and the one who returned on that joyful, inspiring day
The One that got Away Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
July 3, 2020
My eyes open to the feeling of the warm sunshine glow
The bed feels so good that getting up will be slow
Peering through my bedroom window and seeing there isn’t any snow
The news report was again a no show
I go into the shower, watching the drain take away the soapy water flow
Dry myself off with a rag towel combo
Get dressed and put on my hand made boots from the people of Navajo
I hop into my car, turn on the audio and begin to drive with gusto
To where, I don’t know
Zipping, passing a few vehicles in a row
Telling myself, hope none of my tires blow
I see up ahead a stop n go
Thinking of a hot cup of coffee or espresso
Definitely feeling hungry for a gyro
A pick up truck passes me by with loud music playing the classic Lionel Richie song, “Hello”
Triggering a memory from a long time ago
Snapping back into reality, looking at my rear view mirror, it is too late, I’ve passed it like a tornado
I quickly feel for my wallet, I forgot it! at home is my dough
Get back home soon without getting pulled over for no driver’s license to operate my pinto
Home is destination incognito
The Worst Grief
I believe the worst grief you can feel,
Is the grief you feel for people that hurt you.
You paint pictures of all people in your mind.
But pain dealt to you doesn’t give you time to paint into that picture.
Pain taints your oils, your pigments and acrylics.
And the portrait is distorted,
Burned and burdened with blood spilled out of your own fingers.
But in the rearview you can’t see those smaller smears.
You see the face of the person you cared about one day and an age ago.
The poison only shows back up when you back up —
Take a closer look into that painting.
Its an optical illusion,
Occlusion clouding conscious thought.
That one last “I should text him.” Or that one last “he’s better now, surely.”
You built up walls to keep them out.
So why do we keep opening the gate when they come back?
SHENIKA SIMS
going in circles in my mind
jumping over puddles
doing carwheels in multiples of three
thinking of you can't you see
my artwork has more positive themes
my heart medicinally skips beats so it seems
cannot wait to pack suitcases
go so many outfits, bathing suits, and...shoot....clothes to look through
i cannot believe this kind of love i feel for you
i feel like a trampoline with lipstick because i wanna jump your bones
see, you got me saying silly (edit) like that
i am thinking quite unladylike thoughts right now as a matter of fact
however you have been respectful and for the first time in a long time i feel like a lady
renewed, revitalized, and reborn....going in circles in my mind
MARTY KING
going in circles in my mind
got sam cook requesting cupid to draw back that bow
well miss cupid shot straight for my brain and woke me up
the first lovely vision i saw when i did....well....was you
while thinking of you, i find myself feebly attempting to skip rocks in a lake
i find myself jumping up and all up in the spirit making the earth shake and quake
i look at the clouds and see forms of arrows through hearts and people kissing
it took me about twenty some odd years to realize that it is you that i've been missing
while others were steadily moving, here in this dusty corner i sat
i cannot believe that i chose to do ridiculously senseless stuff like that
oh yeah, i am thinking thoughts like a dude, but i choose to sincerely respect you
furthermore, you have been so accepting of Me as My Self, and i have never experienced that as a man
renovated, recognized, and reborn....going in circles in my mind
It was not yet night, it was dark
I was not thinking, I have a thought
I can hear the beating of my heart
The end can finally begin, I cannot
I can read the words in my mind
But to the silence about I cannot say
This dark, a given darkness to shine
Did my eyes flicker? Yet they turn, they sway
I started to feel for things... I touch
There wasn’t yet to be, I... cannot yet see
It was frighteningly beautiful as such
Yet to see not... I am blind, I can only be
An illusion, an imagination, a delusion
I can neither feel or see, either touch nor hear
A distinction, a resolution, an obligation
I can neither heal nor be... either parch or fear
It has fallen into night, it was dark
I can yet see what I see not, I cannot
I can hear only the thumping of my heart
I begin to think... the end was my thought
As I was walking in the silence of the morning..
thinking of a friend who died…shedding a few tears…
I started thinking how my relationship with silence has changed over the years.
I have stood mesmerized…in a field…surrounded by the silent falling snow….
I’ve watched the clouds silently change shape as across the river of sky they flow.
I’ve laid on the ground contemplating the possibility…the existence of a higher power
in the silence of an evening as I watched a meteor shower.
I’ve often found silence to be my friend…but sometime she can be an enemy
like this morning thinking of my friend’s death…the ultimate tragedy.
For there is a sadness that returns in silence…as you repeat the moment when…
you know you will never see or hear or touch that person ever again.
That your friend is gone forever…and you know for your remaining years
in the silence of your loneliness…you’ll cry your deepest tears.
In time, however, although you know your heart will always be a little broken
you feel it begin to mend in the silence of all your words unspoken.
And once you feel the moment your heart begins to mend…
the beauty and the magic of silence again becomes your friend.
As you gaze outside your silence…your smile returns because you know
It’s in the silence of the evening when a tree begins to grow.
It’s in the silence of the morning when a flower begins to bloom.
and how the miracle of birth begins in the silence of a mother’s womb.
Suddenly you re-discover the beauty in silence…in her complexity…
and you find a little meaning in her tranquility…
Like how you know…though your friend is gone…
the love you feel for her or him…from you…will never part
It will always be there waiting for you to visit
from the depths within your soul…and silence of your heart
POOP - TALE : for contest
No embarrassment , everyone poops
So relaxed is the feel after all 's out
No gold and riches can ever buy such feel
I am sure all will agree silently though!
We get that feel for free as nature calls
In body, poop factory is so well- fitted
Based on our lifestyle it is regulated
Frequency n' timing our habits decide
As far as we breathe , we have to poop
No matter where you are, who you are...
How many times daily varies with species and diet...
Bamboos and honey diet makes Panda bears poop,
more than a forty times in a single day !
In other species range follows bell shaped curve
A balanced input-output cycle continues..
Doctors diagnose ailments examining poop,
Sausage shape is ideal poop the doc opines..
Mothers of kids worry if they cry while they poop
Too much delay makes happy a trader in laxatives!
Night soil in fields have made a fertile land
Poop of cattle folk is a manure too good
Everyone poops and is so useful too...
Deadlines and work pressure,meetings with boss
Petty tussles with friends or your own spouse.
Ask for a break saying you need to poop
Instantly you are permitted and you may slide out
Enjoy this break behind washroom doors !!
No more shy business, everyone poops!
Engrossed in reading a suspense thriller,
Or watching the climax of a movie horror
As soon as poop siren raises alarm, you got to go!
Ultimate rule is please don't control
Happily you poop poop poop and flush out !
FOR CONTEST- EVERYONE POOPS
Sponsored by:Roy Jerden
Submitted by: Anulaxmi Nayak
Date: 9th August 2015
glossary:
Bell shaped curve: the normal distribution curve
which has values of all ranges and takes a bell-shape.