Remarked Poems | Examples

What is the truth in your name

I am called Annie A Lander.  
Perhaps my mother believed  
This name would be fitting for me,  
But my father disagreed; he felt  
I should bear the name of a goddess,  
Such as Sarasvati, who embodies many souls.  

I share my thoughts and ideas like wildflowers,  
Dispersing my seeds with the breeze from the west,  
Due to the Goddess Annie,  
While the rivers gather my tears, so near to the ocean.  

My father recognized the longing  
And the pain and fear reflected in my eyes.  
He remarked to my mother,  
"What significance does a name hold, Esther May?"  

With tears welling in her eyes,  
She embraced my fragile body tightly.  
What significance a name carries is strength and power.

The Christmas Room

It lay
 halfway down the hall,
 once the spare bedroom styled
where out of state family once sprawled,
 for a while.

Grown now,
 two states away
 with families of their own
all too busy for a visit these days
 back home.

My niece once remarked
 that the room is pervaded
 by remnants of Christmas collectibles parked
in dusted positions faded
 for my heart's memorialized condition sparked.

Herein displayed
 the many gifts they gave
 so many Santa and Angel figurines
Baby Jesus on parade
 in happier masquerades once seen.

As the season approaches
 with every possibility of time recalled
 the past encroaches
in the hopes and dreams, we still applaud
 the sanctuary of the Christmas Room.

Himari

I had not seen her since she was a baby
her mother wanted to name her Naomi
in Japanese this meant straight, direct and beautiful
her father was holding out for Himari, after her mother
Himari means sunflower

Himari had been a marvelous little girl
a curious risk taker who loved life
she had an enthusiastic need to learn new things
at twenty-eight she showed continuing intelligence
we met, and she was polite, pleasant, and brilliant

I told her stories about her parents, and she was grateful.
She rarely met people who knew them before they knew her.
I remarked on her glorious eyes and her marvelous listening skills.
She was the best lunch partner I had ever known.
I knew I would never forget her and I never have.

seeing the pink unicorn

a pink unicorn wandered past our house the other day
she had a fabulous tail and mane; I remarked on them
my husband looked out but saw nothing
I knew he wouldn’t
he does not believe in unicorns
my neighbor Princess Ann called me a few minutes later
What a gorgeous color she was! Princess Ann said.
She writes children’s books
seeing a unicorn is a daily event in her world too

epigenic?

Epigenetics?

I don't understand, but I wonder how come
I dream and remember things that happened
before I was born
perhaps caused when I am in my pram lay
absorbed without knowing what
the adults were talking about
my great-grandfather was a famed baker 
who specialized in cakes and puddings 
he had his own business, which his son my
grandfather squandered
I was drawn to the catering business
I no longer dream of my sister or my brother
they died young and have disappeared into
mythology
My mother I remember with fondness and
sadness, a hard-working woman with fierce
political opinions.
In later years, she succumbed to drinking and
took little interest in things around her
Of my father, I remember nothing
like looking into a blank wall, as my mother
once remarked I looked like my father
and she bore a secret smile.
One ominous thing is alcohol has played
and cast dark shadows through several 
generations 
I have myself suffered from this soul-eating
illness, I overcome by living far away and
in my writing 
The addiction tendency is genetic 
"Neglect is the biggest disease."

Summer Flowers

“flowers and friends both bring color to my world.”     ~~ The Poet ~~

There was spring in the air. He saw Summer in her smile.
He watched her pass by, sometimes she would linger a while.
Gazing at the flowers in his garden, her pretty face so fair.
He saw Summer in her smile. There was spring in the air.

One day as she passed, he was attending his flowers outside.
She remarked, “your garden is wonderful it must give you pride”
Looking into her beautiful eyes, so glad he was talking to her at last.
He was attending his flowers outside, one day when she passed.

“That’s true my garden is the pride of the street, I just have a knack”
He told of some special blooms growing in a glass house out back.
“I’d love to see them, maybe you could show me next time we meet”
I just have a knack, that’s true my garden is the pride of the street.

Seeing what grows in his glass house, she was delighted and in awe.
She was in raptures and couldn’t believe just what she saw.
He had taken some Summer rain and created a rainbow rose.
In his glass house, she was delighted and in awe, seeing what grows.

The Old Soldier

The picture stared down at the old man

Good times, friends for life

The decomposing body was in its second year now

The dust and webs had cloaked him like a blanket

Giving him comfort that life denied him

Time ago, they would have classed him as a hero, time ago

The black van took him away

Eventually releasing the body for burning

The prayers were brief

His final epitaph came when the council cleared the house

The picture was the last to go in the skip

Glancing at it, the worker remarked to his colleague

Old soldier.

The Butler’s Solution

There were once some giraffes asked to tea
They politely accepted with glee.
The butler remarked, ”Aren’t YOU tall!”
For you, our chairs are too small.
So they drank tea from outside — quite hap’ly

HIS TALE

He pressed onward
Unsure of his destination,
Smiling as the storm intensified—
Tearing at the sails, loosening the rudder.
His smile was not born of humor
But from recognizing his own strength
In the face of adversity.
"It's a beautiful chaos," he remarked
When questioned about his calm.
For he understood
That to unburden oneself
Is to find relief.

A so called poet

A so called poet on my poem remarked, he saw in my writing no linguistic art

He said that the language I used was over simple, this was the comment of dear Mr. nimble 

From Mr. nimble I need no advice, with my humble knowledge I shall suffice

Among people I’m just another man, not William Shakespeare nor Walt Whiteman

Poetry is not the use of some fancy word, but rather on making your story being heard

Poetry is about a feeling well expressed and evoking people’s emotions when well addressed

Poetry is that sweet vibrant feeling, that gives people pleasure and some sort of healing

To our so called poet I do suggest, in some dark shady room he should rest

Poetry can’t be described in just a few words, poetry is simply sublime

Saleh Ben Saleh

Christmas Alone

Wonder as the sentiment of a conjuring
Subtlety akin to morning
Glories, fall as snow remarked
In solemn note, a veil to reckon
Alighted through the spirit so chilling
The familiar light as a darkened compact
But as christening the bounty of hall
Would wait appealing to the homily
As done the dancing of the mood

Q-Tips

In charge of the museum store,
She was an ex-New Yorker.
Her hair was white, her glasses black
(Like me!) and yes, a talker.

She spoke of moving to the Cape
And though she missed the city,
She’d learned to love her lifestyle now,
Less hassled and less gritty.

In passing, she remarked about
Her other “Q-Tip” pals.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
She answered, “Older white-haired gals.

I guess we look like Q-Tips,
With our heads of snowy white.”
I laughed ‘cause I’m a Q-Tip, too
And somehow, that’s all right.

autumn bicker

a farmer under a tree

remarked when stung by a bee

seems each september

rain or fair weather

we seldom seem to agree.

Our Cousin Sherrill

Just a simple dress with a matching bonnet
Yet there was nothing plain about the child
Sherrill had gorgeous fat curls and sky-blue eyes
Everyone remarked on them even her grandmother

You have eyes like that too, grandma
Not like those eyes! Their grandmother replied.
No one has eyes like those eyes.
Sherrill was a beautiful child, prettier than most.

She was our cousin, and we loved her.
We still do.
Sherrill is sixty years older now, but still gorgeous.
And her eyes look like grandma’s used to look.

The Zen of Then and Now

I once remarked:
                        “if I knew then what I know now”

A mentor replied:
                        “You know now what you know now, what has changed?”


                        John G. Lawless
                        ©12/29/2022

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