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Best Poems Written by Jim Yerman

Below are the all-time best Jim Yerman poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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When the Streets Are Wet

There is one kind of beauty in a morning walk illuminated by the moon..and yet…there is a different kind of beauty walking after a rain…when all the streets are wet.

The streets take on a glow…one you never see at noon…the shadows seem to shimmer in light reflected from the moon.

There is a freshness in the air…a coolness in the breeze…as it carries with it raindrops it has shaken from the trees.

Still enough raindrops remain upon the trees…those unable to take flight…giving the trees a feeling of Christmas…as they sparkle in the night.

Age seems to fade away…as you breathe the misty air into your lungs…as you splash around in puddles…like you did when you were young.

If you listen to the crickets…the owls…the nightingales…you find it difficult to decide…if you are hearing more sounds than usual…or if they’re just amplified.

You stop a moment…look up…and give thanks…grateful you’ve been allowed…to watch the moon, the stars….the planets…playing hide and seek among the clouds.

And you pause as you’re walk is ending…trying to remember everything because you don’t want to forget…
the sights
the sounds
from your morning walk…
when all the streets are wet.

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That's What Hippies Do

They grew up in the ’60’s…and as their lives unfurled
They discovered they were righteous…laid back…two groovy kind of girls.

They had long hair…down to their shoulders…some people thought them wild
They were hippies…free spirits…unconventional…each one a flower child.

They wore their clothing tie-dyed in colors bold and bright
When they made the scene…they were a gas, a blast…so out of sight!

They would have gone to Woodstock but their parents didn’t approve
They believed in peace and love and they were always on the move…

But time has a way of moving too… and though they’re not sure how
Those two hippies of the ‘60s…are in their 60’s now.

Yet, through the years…through jobs and family
though their lives have rearranged….
they stayed as cool as they were back then
and their values haven’t changed….

They were sculpted by their past and no matter how old they grow
There is a universal truth…that they…as hippies…know….

Although there are certain parts of life over which they have no control….
They remain free spirits in their hearts and hippies in her soul.

They oppose violence…
They oppose hate and war…
Their symbol is the dove
They strive for a world of peace
They pursue a world of love.

So here’s to all the old hippies out there….
and any younger hippies too…
Let’s keep trying to make the world a better place…
because that’s what hippies do.

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And Then He Cried

His love was ever present but quiet…still in it they found relief…so it only stands to reason he’d be quiet in his grief.

There are no rules for dealing with death…which is why, after his wife died,…despite his heart being broken…despite his sorrow…despite all this…he never cried.

His children and friends would visit…wanting to help…and in so many ways they tried…but in spite of their friendship and love…in spite of the sorrow hiding in his heart…in spite of all this…he never cried.

In his mind it was quite simple…there was one hope he kept leaning on…for in spite of what he knew to be true…he could’t accept that she was gone.

After 40 years together he kept hoping…dreaming she would walk through their front door…and greet him with a smile as she’d done a million times before.

Hoping what had happened couldn’t possibly be true…that it must be a mistake…a big misunderstanding…a dream from which he will awake.

In his own time he did come to realize his life would never return to the same track…that his wife is gone forever…that she’ll never be coming back.

On that day…
the day he understood she would no longer be there to hold his hand…
to whisper in his ear…
to look at him wide-eyed…
that is the day he grabbed his heart…
fell to his knees…
that is the day…
he cried.

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A Letter From Earth

As the day to celebrate me approaches…
When I see how you mistreat each other and me…
it makes me wonder why
and the moment I saw the hate, the wars…the pollution…I began to cry.

I hope you find a way to halt your hatred and neglect…
if you want to wash away my tears…
because I am more delicate than you might think…
more fragile than I appear.

I’m afraid if you can’t find a way to treat me better 
and to each other extend the hands of peace…
then I will continue to wallow in my sadness 
and my tears will never cease.

And the Universe will witness the end of me…
and watch me exhale my last breath…
and wonder how an entire planet
could have cried herself to death.

Sincerely,

The Earth

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We Are Vegetarians

Sometimes I think the way we view the world is a little antiquarian
for instance we have words to label everyone…from Capricorn to Sagittarian…

Take Deborah and I…we don’t eat meat…we are proudly vegetarian
though occasionally we will eat fish…which makes us pescatarian.

and since we’ve been known to eat a burger…we are most assuredly hypocritarian.
however we do not care what you eat…because we’re not authoritarian.

And though we believe in eating food that is predominantly agrarian
we know it doesn’t matter what you eat…if you are humanitarian.

It doesn’t matter if you are straight or gay…black, white or Hungarian.
If you’re Democrat, Republican, Independent or Libertarian.

It doesn’t matter…if you’re Catholic, Muslim or Sectarian
If you’re a doctor, or a lawyer…a dentist…a Veterinarian… 

It doesn’t matter the type of music you like…rap, pop or opera that’s Wagnerian
or how you like your donut cream…whipped…butter…or Bavarian.

I think it’s time to apologize and end this poem
for I have shamefully become aware…
I can’t remember where I was going with it…
and, I imagine you…no longer care.

But let me end with these two hopes…
that you are not a strict grammarian…
and that we all may someday live…
in a world…
egalitarian.

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Happy Thanks-Given

I had a friend with a unique way of looking at the world
(although I once thought she was misled)
because when the rest of us said ‘Happy Thanksgiving’
‘Happy Thanks-given’ is what she said.

It is a day we come together
and give thanks for all the ways we have been blessed
for our health
our happiness
our friends
our family
all the treasures we possess…

For years we’ve come together
we’ve flown
we’ve taken trains
we’ve driven…
to celebrate not only this Thanksgiving
but years of thanks already given…

So as you sit down for your feast this year
as you’ve done so may times before…
to give thanks for this years blessings
remember all the years you’re thankful for….

Remember all the thank yous
over the years you have amassed…
and how our thank yous of today and tomorrow
are linked to thank yous of the past. 

I guess my friend was right all along
so allow me….If I may
to wish you not only a Happy Thanksgiving
but a Happy Thanks-given day.

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An Old Cast Iron Pan

I imagine when you first see it…all you see an old cast-iron pan…you don’t see where it’s been…you only notice the outside…not the history within.

But every time we use it…we handle it affectionately…because when we pick up this old cast-iron pan…that…is exactly what we see.

Some of this pan’s history we know…the rest we must infer…it was Debrah’s grandmother’s…passed down to her mother…then passed on down to her.

Now take another look at it…imagine, if you can, three generations of meals…cooked inside this pan.

Think of all the breakfasts, lunches and dinners served up lovingly…think of what this old cast-iron pan has meant to our family.

I wonder if that’s what makes anything cooked in this pan taste so good…as we think about how long ago it was cast…as the flavors we are tasting today blend with all those flavors from the past.

I suppose that’s why we get a little sentimental…why we use this pan so reverentially…knowing its age and history is what makes it special…knowing it’s a lot like Deborah and me.

And hoping how the three of us…Deborah, me and this old cast-iron pan…with a little bit of care and a lot of love…will keep cooking as long as we can.

We only hope there is at least one item in your house filled with memories…filled with its own history…an item like our old cast-iron pan…that’s part of your family.

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Her Favorite Angel

Her mom died when she was young…and though she survived the ordeal
she still misses her when she remembers her…
some wounds will never heal.

She remembers how her mom loved pelicans…how they soared on the breeze like a kite…
How she loved all kinds of pelicans…
but her favorite ones were white.

And when she walks along the surf…when the sea is tranquil and calm…
if a white pelican soars overhead…
it reminds her of her mom.

When she hears the swoosh of the pelican's wings…and sees the smile on its beak…
she instinctively returns a smile
as a tear rolls down her cheek.

Then came the day for her to marry…her mom now years out of reach…
she decided to have the ceremony…
in the sand…
upon the beach.

Halfway through the service…about the time she took his hand
A flock of pelicans flew overhead…
then landed on the sand.

And she again remembered how her mom loved pelicans…
how they soar on the breeze like a kite…
And she had to stop and catch her breath…
because all these pelicans…
were white.

It was a beautiful moment…the end of a beautiful day
and when the ceremony was over…
all the pelicans flew away.

All the pelicans that is but one…who lingered there a while…
whose beak she swears to this day…
was formed into a smile…

She never thought of pelicans as angels…until her wedding night
but now her favorite angel…
is a pelican…
painted white.

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Family Portrait

I took this family portrait yesterday as we walked along the beach…
our entire family could not make it…
some were sleeping…
others out of reach…

But I noticed through the camera lens as in the sand I knelt
even the family members who were absent…
their presence could be felt.

I don’t know how it happens 
but when I take a picture of my family…
I swear
I see the people in the picture frame…
and the ones who are not there.

Which makes every family photo…
a reason to give thanks…
as my eyes look at the picture 
while my heart fills in the blanks…

So once again I smiled as I snapped this picture…
suddenly filled with but one thought
how my entire family is always with me…
whether they’re with me…
or they’re not.

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The Crumbs

Her wedding vows were simple, heartfelt and concise…
“If love is the bread of life,” she said, 
“I promise all my love with every slice.

A smile crossed his face and tears welled in his eyes.
He could not hide his happiness…
his contentment…
his surprise.

For he knew in their life together…
in their future…
whatever comes…
He would have been just as happy…
living off the crumbs.