Outreached Poems | Examples

Sweet with All Wood-Scents

Looking out the window of the train
I noticed a beautiful woman waving.
Everything in me wanted me to get up and wave
at her: but in my mind I said
to myself why, the distance and the odds of her
wishing to meet me would dwindle my chance.
I then jumped up from my set and ran to the caboose
and tossed my phone number and name to her
begging her to call me.
We had arrived in Ryes Town and I went to my
hotel room. My phone rang and it was her! The beautiful
woman that I noticed waving at the train as we passed by.
I was to sing in the Ampitheather that night. I had been having
trouble stay on key: I had noticed
myself going off tune quite often. My "Circle of merry friends"
didn't want me to meet the beautiful lady. We had planned to go boating
and have lunches in the summery heat: but I found
meet this woman more exciting and prayed I
was right because not only was she beautiful she was smart.
and any chance for me to be happy. Knowing someone would
rather me sad and blue. I found myself beliving if
she would ally to me I could
be married
if she outreached to someone I call freind 
I would be doomed!

Peat and Bogg!
Cherry Sweet!

In Bloom

The sparrows praised the morning sun,
He hugged the forest in his warm- outreached arms
The sun cascaded and grazed his fingers through every crisp leaf,
Over every sleepy tenant- illuminating their curiosity for each other

And the breeze laughed- happy to be alive
She laughed as she ruffed every tree,
All now fully dressed
She cackled down from the clouds and into every burrow

The family of trees just stood by watching the neighborhood awaken
Cousins rubbing elbows- Fathers shading their sproutlings
Creaking in quiet protest to the construction worker woodpeckers
Just happy at the turn of the weather

And the early blooming lilies gossiped to themselves
About the underdressed daisies
And the breeze disturbing their groomed leaves
And how the sun was too hot so early

The sky watching them all rejoicing,
For she wasn't alone anymore,
Left with bleeding ears from the squirrels complaints of the cold
Landlord to to all she welcomed them back to her care
In bloom was it all, and all was in bloom


March 1, 2023
In bloom poetry contest
Joseph May

The Forgiving Charter

The blaze surrounds me
as if I jumped into an ocean of plasma.
Though Jesus came to me with the
The Forgiving Charter.

A ship filled with damaged souls
all within his grasp of love.
He steers this vessel
surrounded by admiring angels and doves.

An outreached hand into the heat,
showing scars beneath his palm.
I accept him and welcome the hope;
The melting stops, the hollers no longing alarm.

Together we sail into the light...
God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit and me.

The Holly Tree

Like a baseball in a glove,
I took my place in the holly tree.
From here, they must come and listen,
It's a grand slam... I shall speak cordially.

I brought enough food
to stay for weeks
until my simple message is heard,
digested from I, who's mild and meek.

And so they came,
authorities, family and friends
to see a spectacle in a tree;
Time moved slowly as did more attend.

I spoke my words,
peacefully;
"They are out to get me,
with numerology!".

Though deaf ears listened
 with arms outreached,
"Please come down, 
we are hear to help", spoked amicably. 

So to the ground 
I made my way...
I was running the bases, 
but it was not my play.

And this is where my journey began...
Hospitals, jail and doctor's rooms!
My message was never heard,
as it was left up in the holly tree tomb.

Tuesday, October 19, 2021

Spinning Friends

She's in the booth ahead of me,
On the Ferris Wheel;
Facing me, she smiles,
As we spin like a movie reel.

I don't know her name,
Or that any of the night's stars,
That circle around us and the earth,
Like racehorses turning against the bars.

I just want to spin with her,
Arms outreached in the field.
Stirring up the tumbleweeds,
And finding that true love is real.

And with all these thoughts, the ride comes to an end,
With kindness she approaches, "Would you like to be friends?"

18-September-2021

Hysterical Blindness

The blind clown came to entertain,
But he had problems getting to his act.
He kicked away the juggling balls,
And left the bubbles jar intact.

With arms outreached,
He couldn't find his riding horse.
He stumbled and tripped and fell alot,
As his oversized shoes went off course.

He then tried to balance a plate,
On what he thought was a stick.
But it was a magical wand,
That turned his balloons into bricks.

Turns out that the crowd laughed a plenty,
As his bufoonery was a many.

12-September-2021

You Should Have Walked In My Shoes

You should have walked in my shoes

You would have felt joy
You would have felt sorrow
You might have been bored; now and then
You should have walked in my shoes

Neck hair risen, toes curled
Knees bent; hands outreached
Cold and tired; warm and awake
You should have walked in my shoes

You should have seen what I have seen
You should have felt what I have felt
You should have known what I know
You should have walked in my shoes

I have many shoes
Shoes stored away
Spring, summer, autumn and winter shoes
You should have walked in my sandals

Lone Tree

on the edge
of sloped hills
i stand alone
limbs outreached
longing for warmth
as i shiver
within this cold
december breath

i am bare
colorless
and numb
snapping within
from the weight
that hangs
like icicles
from branches
of soulless life
grounded
beside me

my shadow
is falling
more shallow
in these darker days
surrounding me
where i struggle
to flourish 

my boughs
almost kissing
the soil
of twisted roots
already deadened 

the raven
has landed again
to test the weight
of my faithful branches
only to see
if i will surrender
and succumb 
to the valley below
as a lifeless figure
like those before me

i stand my ground
colorless, naked
and alone...


december 22, 2019
I am a tree poetry contest
Sponsored by Delilah Ventura

Balanced

My imaginary friend isn’t doing so well
Or, do I refer to myself.  It’s tricky as Hell
Here I am, Pacing, retracing and contemplating
Alternating amongst the wreckage, my heart is racing
Now I’m face down, comatose, waiting
For the glory, the mercy, an ounce of sympathy
An outreached hand to lure me in gently
The rising of the tide has me clinging to sweet breath
Hope keeps me afloat as I brush with raw death
The sea becomes calm and a settling still
A euphoric moment, when my lungs are filled
But I’m yanked from the serenity of a peaceful demise
My surroundings shift, most disturbing, in size
The sea, now a tool, to wash down my pill
I’m perfectly balanced.  Despite how I feel

A Strong Wind Blows

A strong wind blew
On the water blue
The storm had brewed
They weren't buckaroos
The sail broke in half
It was tied with a scarf
Hoping it would hold
All were feeling cold
Praying to get ashore
It seemed such a chore
This was never done
Their bodies were sore
With big boo-boos
They wanted to reach
           the beach
That was outreached

Silhouettes

I saw you face your lover; you both made
a pattern quite distinctive in the dark.
Silhouettes on the window shade displayed
two hands that met two others; formed an arc.

The hands, from arms outreached, delivering
their upturned palms that now together pressed,
could not release nor stop their quivering,
anticipation physically expressed.

Then two who stood behind a window posed,
at last fell trembling into love’s abyss.
Love’s essence on the shade was then transposed
as bodies touched and mouths met in a kiss.

Your shadow with your lover's intertwined.
A valentine pulsed on the window’s blind.


Sept. 11, 2017 for the Silhouette Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish

Ematiated Talent

You are just a girl..oh wait.... A mother!!!
with ceasing dreams
ematiated talent
fading destiny
repeated history
yet you never learn.....
You are just a girl...oh wait.....a mother!!!
almost forgotten responsibilities
of growing up with undefeated needs
binded in chains of uncertanities
lost in the ground where you would flash insecurities
You were just a girl
planted fatal seeds
shattered dreams 
played wrecklessly
you are fumbling with no direction
outreached the stage of progress due to age
you are still in the foundation phase
why  woman won’t you learn? why can’t you adapt?
You are just immarture but yet and adult
selfish and selfless
with hands and fingers you can not utilise on
consecutive erros you don’t acknowledge
wasted time you can never replace 
 I feel sorry for you mate ,
but thers still hope in regrets,
to fix the mistakes

Last Glance

LAST GLANCE

Time slips its bond to fall on outreached hands,
Gingerly seeping through fingers,
Grasping one last glance at the Grace that was;
When you last spoke,
Last touched,
Last felt the sun upon your face,
And smiled at the warmth of it. 

Memories fade yet linger - waiting for no reason,
But to be for the moment, then replaced,
By din of present life once more,
Touching one last glance of the Grace that was;
Your Presence,
When you last laughed,
Last Loved,
Last felt the wind in your hair and
Lingered in the Brace of it.

J.R. Twaddell © Reprised 2011

The Poor Man's Fortune

There's something from the Chinese
that's called the poor man's fortune.
when back in the beginning
was thought of as misfortune.

My story starts with Sally Trac
A waitress in a chain.
One courteous and generous
that no one would call vain.

Each day would be a badgering
where Sally'd pester me.
and I'd return the pestilence
Our humor running free.

I'd order up a coffee milked.
A coffee Sally'd make.
The moment came up often
as the days turned into wake.

In sipping it I'd soon relax;
when tapped upon the shoulder.
And turn around where Sally'd be
Her smile come close as bolder.

An outreached hand to beckon me
presented me with cookies.
Them broken and no fortunes,
as if to come from bookies.

Without their guidance I was lost
unless you count their portions.
For Sally giving cookies free
would be the poor man's fortune.

Prejudice

It clouds the vision of its proponents
Causing them to see things that are not.
It mixes their minds into components
To which rational people give no thought.

It dismisses those whose eyes are angled
Or whose skin is anything but white.
It is quick to see the homeless as mangled
And to surmise they cannot be half-right.

It believes its views are singularly correct
And all other positions implacably wrong.
It lumps non-conformists into a sect
And treats them as a misguided throng.

It forecloses on every outreached move
Designed to help it achieve perspective.
It knows what it knows—nothing to prove,
Unaware its thinking is grossly defective.

It owns uniquely the truth of every issue,
Taking care to avoid having facts intervene.
Its arguments are made of gossamer tissue,
And in time they are sluiced from the scene.

• Short Outreached Poems
• Famous Outreached Poems
• Best Outreached Poems
• Read Outreached Poems
• Long Outreached Poems
• Outreached Quotes