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Best Poems Written by Reason A. Poteet

Below are the all-time best Reason A. Poteet poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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God's Strength, God's Word, God's Love

trijan refrain 

The heart half full means something’s wrong -
the Spirit’s oil runs low.
When emptied, broken, we are strong
refilled, and ready so -
God’s strength can fix a heart gone dull
our selfish contents He can cull.
       God’s strength restores
       God’s strength restores
each day to keep our mark on full. 

The heart half full means needs may go
unmet by God’s own grace.
We’re called to let our fellows know
that they can win this race.
God’s Word abounds with help each day,
it must be read to find the Way.
       God’s Word abounds
       God’s Word abounds
to fill the empty hearts who stray.

The heart half full calls us to prayer,
it’s time to take a break.
Engaged with work, no time to spare
another’s thirst to slake?
God’s love pours forth when we look up
and ask for wisdom in our cup. 
       God’s love pours forth
       God’s love pours forth
enough to share, our neighbors sup.

posted September 19, 2014

**I realize this is a combination of iambic verse in tetrameter, trimeter, and dimeter but that is the requirement for a trijan refrain, a variable line length. If it does not meet the rules of your contest, I will understand.

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Meet My Mr Moore

"The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind."  Khalil Gibran

Mr. Moore taught us English lit
but more important than that,
he taught us how to use our wit.

He willed us to go way beneath
the surface and there discover
treasures hidden under the heath.

He urged us all to cast our lines
way far out into our waters,
waters of thought, we could refine.

We found Truth was for Mr. Moore
like a shield or coat of armor.
These well-known words tacked to his door -

"Above all, To thine own self be true."
Then, does it really matter much
what others choose to say or do?

Virtue we came to realize
exists in the mind of the man -
his character without disguise.

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Steadfast Grit

Subtitled:  I'll Walk Again

Some tomorrow soon, I shall walk again,
though not as I walked in days past.
To reach that doorway - my foremost campaign
and thus I'll keep walking my last.
Therapy is pain; it's a stormy fight
taking great effort in this cast.
The doctor reports my future looks bright,
I'll walk again, my grit steadfast. 

The memory of the accident still clear.
Walking alone I had just passed
the corner turn that leads back from the pier.
dune buggies race the storm too fast
in sand too deep, too wet for certainty
lightning and collision contrast
In time, I'll grasp life as an amputee.
I'll walk alone, my grit steadfast.

New normal I tackle with amnesty,
I cannot cast blame nor lambast.
For such is pathetic activity
generating storms far more vast
than one which caused my disability.
My good broken leg is the mast
where my banner flies with tenacity.
I'll walk at peace, my grit steadfast.

Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

The Zulu Coconut Speaks


The words of the Zulu coconut,
a once coveted souvenir
from an indulgent visit
to festive Mardi Gras.
As our hero speaks
two mice nibble
unobserved
at his
coat. 

"Beads
were slung;
doubloons cast.
Grasping tourists
seized the trifling throws.
Floats advanced in the queue
krewes tossed their tokens wildly.
Prize gifts are meant to be given.
So I, Zulu, went from hand to hand."

Meanwhile a mischief of mice emerged
to attack Zulu's varnished coat.
As they quickly devour him,
his paint began its work
within their stomachs
to do the same.
Zulu's last
witnessed
speech:

"Far
better
to restock
the soil of earth.
Better to be spent
as nourishment to some.
Better still to end this life
by sprouting as a seed of hope.
Better than this: "paint may be toxic."

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Spider's Purse

a dizain

Admire her casting, lines of silky floss;
survey as artist drafts her masterpiece.
Enclosing space invisibly across,
then single-handedly, she will increase
the center parts to form unseen valise.
A purse of unsuspected, vicious taint -
its straps in hand, she naps - a wily feint.
Artistic beauty flows, but will soon ebb,
when tender insects clutter her restraint.
Artiste awakes to wealth within her web.

Nov. 17, 2010

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purple gold

purple gold
payday on Friday
migrants’ plainsong

a wealth of clusters
ripe from the sun's strength
purple gold

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Come

 dramatic monologue 

come
come quickly 
come, spotless Bridegroom

come, Lord
come fill our thirst 
come, gift your bride with peace

come and conclude your covenant
come, declare your earthly kingdom
come, show your power over death

even so,
Lord Jesus, come

written by Reason A. Poteet
3 Sep 2014
using anaphora, a poetic device

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Springtime With Gramps

The death of winter carries varied sights.
In April, when dandelions roar, “It’s Spring!”
green yards transform by magic overnight.
Gramps had sprayed his lawn, but in ours weeds bring
an old game for kids as they dance and swing.

Small windmills in disguise, children spread seeds
giving Grandpa a cause for some dismay.
He is no grouch,  fence conversation leads
to friendly talk of butterflies at play -
riddles about what nature does in May.

The kids amazed, watch squirrels building nests,
questions evolve about the birds and bees.
Gramps calls them varmints - Mother's Nature’s pests.
“Ask your folks”, he replies with cough and wheeze.
In naptime dreams, he aims a gun at trees.

Gramps takes a walk, golf umbrella hovers
for spring rains do not announce their coming.
A neighbor lady hobbles to cover.
Listen, his cane on her sidewalk - drumming,
sweet songs of spring love, two voices humming.


written May 7, 2014, edited on May 25, 2014

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A Settled Sweetness

 two septets with rhyme  

At long last, my friend, she bears no shame.
She spent a year seeking a soul-mate.
His eyes obliged her life to claim,
yet he could not, he would not propose.

Their calm ship was headed aground
for months she kept it together -
an ocean of hope, her playground.


Fisherman's widow!  At long last
she reeled in and quit her searching.
She found her love had been miscast.

Two smiling faces fade from sight, 
they travel on two different waves.
Feeling free, both alone tonight,
the settled sweetness of farewell.

inspired by a quote from Andrea del Sarto byRobert Browning, 
"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,"

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Lucky Leprechaun

There once was an old elf from Sweden
who envisioned Ireland as Eden.
He made the trip west
and in a gold chest
found shoemakers’ tools to succeed in.

written March 29, 2017