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Best Poems Written by Mark Anthony Bartolo

Below are the all-time best Mark Anthony Bartolo poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Moonlight Road

Singing on the moonlight road
Lies a virtuous heartfelt star.
An emblem that bodes no code
Of masks that may go too far

Strumming on the moonlight road
Lies a spirit of such tender,
Accepting one as a church mode
Rather than a soul of blunder.

Walking on the moonlight road
Lies a friend of no mind game
Showing up here with an ode
A toast to you bearing a Name.

The Name I’m referring to
Is not a name of some brand
Nor a name of the good few
Yet a name of a helping hand so grand!
 
The Name I’m referring to
Is a veteran of hope
Veteran of an ardent hue,
Yet no veteran of a slope

Therefore, a wise friend is here
To leave you a short message
A message with no damage
That we appreciate your care

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A Note To the Greedy

Leaves safeguard my skin
From sun rays burning my chin.
Their death’s a hick’s sin

Green trees kiss the wild
While berries nourish the young.
‘No trees!’ means ‘No child!’

The damp air we breathe
Helps the soul to sit and read.
Dear leaves, pay some heed

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Ariana Grande

Nickelodeon’s Ariana Grande
Sings like the delicate blossoms in May
Yet the singing bird is often heard
As the dancing diva to kiss the herd

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I'Ve Met

I met this odd bald guy. His name's Frank
He has told jokes bout babies that sank 
By the quick count of three
My bleeding ears had fleed
From his quips like skunks I call them junk

I've met this girl of gold called Chelsea
Comes all the way from the windy sea
With her silly diction
As a gag depiction
Her words call for stand up comedy

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Thank You Coronavirus

Thank you, coronavirus, I can’t sleep
Thank you, coronavirus, I can’t dream
Your smiles are memories I cannot sweep
Your global tours helped boost your self-esteem

Day by day my heart listens to the blues
As I can kiss, embrace and glance no more
Facebook speaks like we have a life we’ll lose
The faces of pure art unveils no more

 The people I love I must refrain from
The people I think of. I can’t sense them
Look at what our rich nature has become.
Something must be done. There must be some gem

My gem will be those lullabies of joy
My gem will be those sweet songs they’ll enjoy

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The Error

Dear people I’ve met once in a blue moon
My urgent message is short and simple
My ailment will come to an end quite soon
Which was impossible to rekindle

My flaws are tough for one brain to handle
I’ve never looked up to my own virtues
So I’m sure I must blow out the candle
And then I must break my parents’ curfew	

Despite this, I’ve never meant to harm you
It’s just that I was born to be different
Never mind if I’m not your real nephew
You’re still in my heart. My flesh must be burnt

In conclusion, my mind will rest in peace
And my dark remains in this world shall cease

Details | Mark Anthony Bartolo Poem

I'Ve Always Craved For the Flickering Heart

I’ve always craved for the flickering heart
The type that shivers, shimmers but shambles.
No blazing heart could have sustained that part

I wonder why the light heart breaks apart
As if it has always sprained its ankle.
I’ve always craved for the flickering heart

I wonder why the light heart must restart
From where oblivion makes its mouth mumble.
No blazing heart could have sustained that part

This golden heart always seem to outsmart
The blind, dim and the wicked that grumbles
I’ve always craved for the flickering heart

This raging heart would always top the chart  
As it darts out and suddenly tumbles. 
No blazing heart could have sustained that part

The glimmering heart is what I call art,
Therefore, it’s rays of light would not crumble.
I’ve always craved for the flickering heart
No blazing heart could have sustained that part

Details | Mark Anthony Bartolo Poem

Man In the Marching Band

Here’s the man in the marching band
Fiddlin with sticks on his petty hands
Marching, marching round the street
In the middle of the glazing blazing heat.

Here’s the man in the marching band
Here’s the man. He’s in command
With a little syncopation & intonation
Here’s the man in the marching band

Here’s the man in the marching band
Here’s the man when he’s on demand
Walking in the steps of a child’s handstand
Dancing to the beat of a broken watchband

Sticks and stones might break his drums
No beat, no soul, no rhythm, no goal
Maybe one day, he’ll break his bum
Thanks to countless talented taps he stole

Here’s the man in the Marching Band
Confidence looking so high and grand
Here’s the man in the marching band
Next time he plays, the drums will be canned!

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Kirstie

Kicking them around in this game
Is not something she would do.
Running away from something new
Scans a false image of her frame.
Traces of heed fit her instead.
I prefer going to what she said.
Enough imagery of the clone.

Details | Mark Anthony Bartolo Poem

By Hook Or By Crook

I am that lone wolf
Coming by with that look
My inner mind in a shelf
That horrid stare I took
I must save myself
By hook or by crook

I am that one alien
With an eye for detail
Lost in the Mediterranean
Alive in the form of a male
Boiling the ocean
I would never fail
By hook or by crook

I am that lonely eagle
Waiting for my target
Is it to love or is it to kill?
Some birds accept while some regret
Better keep my wings still
This I would never forget
By hook or by crook

By hook or by crook
I will starve to death
I will leave planet Earth
I will fly from the cove
To the heav’ns above
By hook or by crook