another week passed
the sun peeks throughs
the window
thirty years since
my last run
with a creek
by my side
almost thirty-three years
since my father died
and my mother died
ten years later
would they recognize
me now
grandparents in a diner
ask where has time gone
over coffee
children play and laugh
the sun glistens
off a mirror in my loft
revealing wrinkles on my face
and all the cells in my body
are not the same as five years ago
a crimson leaf falls
and the morning calls for verse
I pick up yesterday’s poem
from the floor and read it again
before I go for a drive
seasons slip by
with a whisper
my car in back
has frost on the window
I miss you both
Your guidance being my oath
It seems like yesterday
You both went yonder far
Beyond my eyes
Up in Heaven having a look down
Your words through your wisdom
Wise and true
You would say today, Grandson you are doing what we advised and that’s pursue
You would be proud
Sometimes when I get into a struggle, I feel your whispers in what I should do
I feel your friendly breezes from outside
Your warmth on the inside
Your disciple being harsh and firm
Life’s preparation I needed to learn
Hard knocks from your experiences
Grandma and Grandpa truly knew
It was life to go through and making break throughs
My tears often fall in reflection
But never forget your lesson
You taught me how too preserver
Overcoming all the fear
I see greatness in the skies
I know you both are observing in watchful eyes
Inspiration you gave me
Being my very best
Always being in my corner
Tomorrows that became
Appreciative in take aim
Remembering you both now and forever
Thank you in the natural and the spirit
Love you both
Heart to Heart
Your Grandson to cherish
Until into the atmosphere
Your Grandson
We are the wraiths
Floating above
Embracing the ghosts
Of our chemical love
Weare the ones
you're not sure you see
Hiding in shadows
Barely perceived
We search out the alleys
The cut throughs, the lanes
Old rusting bridges
That echo our names
Waiting for runners
When did they leave
Bring us the air
That only we breathe
Empty glass vials
And sharp metal pins
Empty and deadly
Yet smiling within
Such obvious secrets
Betrayed in our eyes
Our scars and our tracks
Our mouths full of lies
But we'll smile in your judgment
Because we are the grey
In your black and white world
Of lightness and day
Grown apart
we became after
a long while,
Remember those days?
Daily talks upon hours,
endless laughter,
countless stories,
shared struggles,
emotional break-
throughs,
as we both sit next
to each other in
silence.
I always remember
my best buddy,
the one who saw
me when others
left without looking
twice and held my
hand with genuine
love.
A rare gem, one of its kind
The time continues to
pass us on,
memories sealed
in a photograph of
black and white,
your smile for-
ever imprinted
on my mind,
as the years tick
one two three,
in a blink of an eye,
you’re gone…
*Image of Childhood Memories by WordPress.
On the Good Ship Bubble-Pop
Bubbles, see-throughs, delicate floats,
of voyaged sailless boats,
her captain gauge the air around,
blue cast where none e'er drown,
farther distance -- misspoke, rising,
shapeless bows devising,
now turned admiral, sees her fleet,
eyes rounded sterns complete,
some sway starboard, others go port,
she ventures drafts to sort,
she waits till all had left her view,
ere scuttling added crew,
lifts her makeshift pier container,
blows whistle, no-brainer,
toneless wizardry expresses,
anew fleet progresses,
dreams to be, part of the magic,
fit in spheres? a tough trick!
2021 September 23
*1st Place*
rhyme me rhyme me a poem
~~Eve Roper: Judged 2021 October 05
*RZ checked
Picture #2
Boots up to her knees
Her blue jeans mini skirt covering just a bit
Her black leather jacket hugging tight
She watches the city streets waiting for the next client
An empty liquor bottle sits close to her
Her only therapy of dealing with her demanding job
Her only strength of facing all kinds of drive throughs
Her only comfort on the nights the streets are dry
Her mind far away
To a place she wishes she could fly too
Of a life she dreams she was
To look at you… by Steve Hudson
Woman come alive at my touch
Respond to the caress of my hand,
Be yourself and more,
A mystery shrouded in wonder you are,
Surrounded in deep love and beauty,
I pursue you in fearless abandonment
Giving you my all
Captured by your eyes, your hair,
The curve of your body in sensual pose,
You were designed to draw me in,
Into the place of togetherness
To live as one in physical, in spirit and emotion,
Let it not be at my hand, the downcast of
Your disposition,
Let it not be at my hand the ordinary way of living
Nor the routine of every day boredom
But adventure and passion at every turn,
Embracing this union in daylight,
The way we embrace each other in the throughs of ecstasy at night,
Noble creature, delicate and bold
Take this hand today,
The way you took it yesterday,
And let us walk in sacred unity for the Glory of tomorrow.
I have my Hubby’s steadfast belief in me.
He loves how my poems are light and airy.
He’ll give me an idea once in a while…
Then he escapes to come back, later to read my new child.
He calls these run-throughs a squirrel run.
For they can take off in directions, yes, any one.
Crazy thoughts become crazier still…
And story time leads to god knows, where they will.
My thinking is kind of like chasing around a tree.
You never know where the end will be.
But somewhere I eventually become truly still.
And that is where my Hubby adds into the trill.
Then the squirrel run begins again…
Light and fluffy and full to the brim.
Each day a new adventure... waits around the bend.
Live it. Love it. Write it... You'll be happier in the end.
Contest: Emotion: Squirrelly and fun CSEastman
"Fox Hired To Guard
The Chickens"
"Shepard Elected To Protect
Wolves In Sheeps Clothing"
"Man Throughs Baby
Out With Bath Water"
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.