Long Giorgio Poems
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Words lovely flow in a pellucid stream
Holding both her hands, their eyes meet with gleam
Oath is so clear to love her forever
Star glides down her heart, is she a dreamer?
He gives her roses with whitest petals
Witnesses muster transparent portals
Blessings they bestow...he takes their full trust
With all their wishes that his love will last.
She’s a crystal who’ll be handled with care
Crystals mustn’t fall from eyes in despair
They’ve heard all his sincere words so clearly
They hand her over to him willingly.
When words are crystals they remain in heart,
Kept far behind her eyes when she isn’t hurt.
©2012Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
March 17, 2014 1.10 pm
Second Place
Contest: Any Poem Goes #14
Judged: 3/29/14
Sponsor: My greatest poet/sis PD
First Place
Contest: Impress Me with Small Poem written on Feb/March 2014
Judged: 3/22/14
Sponsor: Poet Giorgio V.
Third Place
Contest: Metaphor: Crystal
Judged: 3/18/2014
Sponsor: Poet Nette Onclaud
REMINDER: IF YOU WANT TO COPY THIS POEM OR ANY OF MY POEMS PLEASE ASK PERMISSION FROM ME. YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO JUST CORRECT MY POEM WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND TOTALLY CHANGE IT FORM PLEAASEEEEE....
I’ve watched the path of Christian Leeds,
whose feet rejected trails of woe
where loving heart now prays to go.
His eyes look ‘round to meet the need.
This Christian offers help, routine
and censure-free. One who was born
in places known for clever scorn
of those who claim - God can be seen.
Leeds fires a stroke of genius, clear -
with bags stocked well with food and clothes
and toys to boot for young kiddoes.
I’ve heard them ask, “Is Jesus, here?"
On faces knowing emptiness,
the food replaces hunger's stare;
toys and clothes fit a heart that's bare
with help and hope and happiness.
written for Debbie Guzzi's contest, Jesus and Mary for Easter
entered in Giorgio Venuto's contest, Become a Fictitious Character...
Christian Leeds, fictitious character from the book of James (Bible) Chapter 2.
Reason A. Poteet
This place, less stable than an earthquake
Leaders laugh at struggles, sipping dark red Sicilian
"Where's our newest martyr going?"
Because dead kids don't talk back
But little do they know, he's slipping out
Dug a hole in his cell like he's in Alcatraz
He writes me thoughtful letters, sealed with kisses
Blood of a warlord, said his grandfather's name is known
He thinks I don't remember poor sweet Giorgio
But that's fine, I suppose, he's only looking out for me
I'll sit beside him on the leather throne one day
But dead kids can't tell stories, can they?
So, he's been staying extra hidden
That way when the guards look over their shoulders
They see nothing more than a cloud of movement
Blocks their vision better than tear gas
God, his grandkid's a genius of a young man
They used to sing about half-hanged Giorgio
Now his family, they're dancing in the limelight
Cherishing those exotic genes, perfect for heroes
Condemned to fates worse than eternal torture
Now, as we escape into the starry sky
And I lean in to kiss him
Giorgio, you've got quite the grandson
Massimo, the love of my horrid life
"She's eight weeks old and weaned," the farmer said,
then placed the trembling Pup within Meg’s arms.
"It’s time to go and find a home away
from home where she can romp and learn and grow."
Her friskiness, bright eyes, and timid bark
quick warmed Meg’s heart; Pup found herself a home.
That night Pup looked for mother as she whined
and chewed the edges of her cardboard box.
The ticking clock Meg put beneath the rags
replaced the sound of mother's beating heart.
A little more secure, Pup fell asleep…
Meg wondered if the mother missed her pup…
Two weeks have passed, and all is going well.
Pup's found a niche within the household walls
and learned the rules; no jumping on the couch
or bed. The hours she spent in wooded yard,
with kitty and the spaniel from next door,
have opened up her sheltered puppy-world.
How well Pup has adjusted in a life
away from mother's warmth and primal love.
She found herself a home away from home.
Meg thought this while she stroked Pup’s silky fur
and waited by the phone for her dear call—
Her child at school three hundred miles away,
who just began her freshman year today.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Structured Forms - Iambic Verse
Sketch a Fictitious Character II
Sponsor: Giorgio A.V.
Judged: 01/17/2015
I want to go and travel around the world
By air, by sea or by walk, I want too...
I like and love to meet other persons
Try and try anything and everything fun
My life and means isn't enough to travel around
Yet anyhow, I am glad somehow, I found
A whole new world not only of different places
But of a world full of various "must see faces"
Of which, I learned peculiar values
Of which, I bravely pursue to be in
Of which, some I immersed and loved
Of which, for a lifetime I will never forget
Some hugged and tried to keep me
Some hold yet at the end leave me
Some challenged and cursed me
Yet, I rejoiced for most pushed, better me
Some limits the world for the places
But for me it is not, it is not!
For the world, before our eyes...
Before our eyes is a limitless world
By
olive_eloi
1:07 pm
02/24/2014
motif: philosophical
CONTEST: IMPRESS ME WITH SMALL POEM V (YAY!)
SPONSOR: GIORGIO A.V.
1ST PLACE (TO GOD THE GREATEST GLORY.. )
I can hear you,
I know you're there,
You can hear me too,
In this home we share.
Are you someone I knew,
Someone from the past,
Can it really be true,
When had I seen you last.
Or did you live here,
A long time ago,
You, I do not fear,
This I hope you know.
Did you just pass away,
Like most people do,
Why do you stay,
Was life taken from you.
Was your life so tragic,
That your spirit will remain,
Just like a trick of magic,
Your form you can regain.
You might watch me at night,
But I never have seen you,
Will I recognize the sight,
As a face that I once knew.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
Giorgio V.'s contest - "Impress Me", themes- spiritual / gothic?
A picture that whets the appetite
Lightly browned toast standing upright
Hemmed in on each side by jarred jam
Glasses filled with honey thus far
Upon a wooden table sits
A treat fit for nobility
Alive with beauty sits the meal
Upon the table fair
The lightly browned toast bids welcome
As does the jam light as air
Mother could make poverty seem
Like grand six course dinners
Homemade bread, jams, and jellies
No chance of getting thinner
Sundays' meals were always special
There might be fresh peach jam
On buttered toast with honey
But never any lamb
Sponsor: Giorgio A.V.
Contest: Ekphrasis Contest 101
Written in April 2015
Finis'
here in our country,
people suffer in cancer.
it's industrial prism.
no one can't get away.
one has hired just last year,
then see what it'll turn.
after three trimesters,
a new life will appear.
this pandemic illness.
of somebody's flesh.
cling to one another's,
set an immoral quest.
this world has carried over,
with the hand of a beasts.
and he who obeys him,
will taste the sweetness of defeat.
single or married women,
can be fell on this trap.
inside the cave of a lion,
all its wanted is lust.
people using people,
rulers must play their role.
to stop filling the bowl of trash.
Aiyah_025
philosophical
Entry poem for :Giorgio V.'s Impress me with a small poem V (Yay)
** 2nd Place Winner**
This empty space waits, along a dim marsh
where paramour hides from tints of red dew,
and crackling boughs grip like a whiplash
on venial sins of passion, long the slew.
Her pace quickens to reach Eden's boulder
weighing low, chained by raked emotion
knowing not why ecstacy grips a dare;
as ravens swoop in twilight procession.
The illlicit hours reel a tempting game
venial sins genuflect without relief,
that holy stars warp in foiled cellophane
while gangrene clouds dodge like a hidden thief.
Her secret man appears, bearing moon’s core
to flame clandestine hours into moans' thrill
there, shadows quench for more of rain's downpour
as pleasure and pain mix a tyrst, fulfilled.
Gothic or Romantic Old/ New, Giorgio V.'s Contest
* Gothic Romanticism
by nette onclaud
Rampage rumbling water roars dig the shores
Heavy hard they grapple trees and humans
Tumbling turner tides glide no one adore
Frightened humans, they run! Run and run fast!
As they desire to survive ever more
From angry nimbus clouds darkening span
To merry-go-round waves muddy wet skirt
Gnawing so hungry to launch damage pert
Beeping screams a reigning train of terror
Rattling man's safety in viral bellow
The ground shut bullet rush without error
All will see an avalanche fresh fresco
the scathe and cries a full furor mirror
Waiting for hope - the sun's chrome of yellow
Abrupt sea assault bridge to sudden death
Taking all weak and anyone with breath
© O. E. Guillermo
9:48pm
September 28, 2009
*** FROM A DOCUMENTARY I watch about killer tsunami
Sponsor Giorgio A. V.
Contest Name Top Gun Poetry - Structured forms - Iambic verse II
placed 2nd