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Best Poems Written by Sandra Hudson

Below are the all-time best Sandra Hudson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Mark Twain's Retort of Sort

At odds about the undertakers fees, Mark Twain jeered:
	“There is a system of extortion going on here!” 
	What horrific prices to pay for just a box and hole
	When it's not the body we care about, but the soul! 

This clerihew is derrived from reading Mark Twains views on burying the dead. His only quotation is the second line.  ( Mark Twain and the Carson City Undertaker) - February 1864

Sandra Hudson, 1/18/2012

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You Wished

Expensive boy toys you kept buying
          All the while to me you were lying
          Though you felt like confection
          Till I found your protection
          And ended your ideas of trying  

         
           Sandra Hudson      1/27/2012
           
           : Sidney ~ LeeAnn
           Valentine Limerick contest

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Not My Decision

Charred
   Charred
   Remains
   URN Confined
   Purposefully stored
   Thrown sometimes in mindful places
   Like parks, lakes and seashores and even green golf courses
   Returning loved ones to rest where they were happiest and most content, forevermore.





Sandra Hudson  1/20/2012
Last line of 21 syllables seems to exceed the allowed space so last word is underneath.

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Tree and Leaves

Tree: Reverse the fall
         So barren your wood branches
           Pointing at nothing

         Leaves: return to thrive
          Spring backward in time and fly
            Back from whence you came

          Tree and Leaves are one
            Complimenting the other
              Swaying to Life's song

           

           Sandra Hudson  1/20/2012
           Haiku Hodgepodge ..Trio.. Contest  
           Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.

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2 Contemporary 4traditional Churches

I entered Church “Ignited” once
	Music caused my bones to dance
	Although repeating choruses
	Reminded me of old chants

	Same music just went on and on
	Beat was driven deep, through air
	All Shouting, falling out was shown
	Applause was the crowds prayer

	Suddenly, the Crowd began to..
	Run around the pews and scream 
	Forming large circles,two by two
	Begging help to form the ring

	Preacher slaps a womans forehead
	Causing her to fall, and land 
	I retreated toward the door
	Having seen all I could stand


	Sandra Hudson 1/20/2012
	Joe Maverick's Contemporary Contest

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If Only

Having toned and centered all will to this: 
	MY DEBUT!.
	Peeling off the filth, grime and thinly veiled sins of writing:
	I reach.
	Exposing a new viral skin, a candied armor:
	poteat and swirled. 
	Old ways, crumple to the earth like wet dust,
	pooling dry.

	And I:
	emerge as a cataclysmic beam of energy,
	plugged in,
	magnetized, inhaleing the vigor, through my mind,
	until a quazar of light implodes, sending bursts of thought,
	into the Cartesian coordinates,
	hanging tidspits, of poetic data
	here and there.

	My body quivers, 
	unseen, yet deep to bone.
	I envision space, with dark pulsating ideologies.

	Knarling them like twine,
	I collect the alphabeted  fog.
	To form an adjective, 
	so connected to the attempt,
	I must open my mind
	and reach inside with care.

	To touch that, which is forbidden,
	and bring out into this world,
	where it does not belong, so it will grace a page.

	And then I sigh,
	
	Does my heart control effort?
	I turn and leave,
	exhausted from, 
	continuing to look at the blank.

Details | Sandra Hudson Poem

Baby Feet

Baby feet smell like powders, lotions, and sweet, sweet, newness
	They grow so fast, we harness the growth with shoes, to slow them
	Yet they dance free of restraints, in the soft grassy backyards of spring 
	    
	Sandra Hudson  1/27/2012
	On your feet contest
	by: nette oncloud

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Poetry Soup Is,

y
                                                    r
                                                  t  p
                                                  e u
                                                o      o 
                                               p         s
                                  Laughter, fellowship, humor
                                  loveliness, friendships, likes....
                                   beauty,theories,themes,art    /
                                     theirs, ours, opinions, I …./
                                        think, believe, feel
                                           learn, educate,
                              a wonderful outlet for young and old  

                              As concrete as this is, poetry soup is 
                              the blending of talent so incredible...
                                                      We believe it to be.....
                                                                          soul food......   

                For Carol Brown's “What I love most about Poetry Soup” Contest
                Sandra Hudson  1/20/2012

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Reflections of You, Down and Dirty

Illegible thoughts penned through blind fingers find an audience of one pathetic.
Lying upon a pointed side, drunk with sorrows' wine, I emit no care or ability to.
Last nights mascara’s tears run into a smeared lipstick frown, and upturned empty bottle.
Broken spirit lies awaiting the shadow of death to steal it's mind and soul.
But greater torture still, would be the endless nausea that plagues the cheapened recipient.
To blend within societies lesser fortunate would be lovely, alas I cannot cast my vote.
For I became diseased decades long ago when new was eye fetching.
Draped in natures gown of mud, spit and dead leaves I wallow to the tune of misery.
Only lifting my eyes to greet the wind that beckons me to see it.   
Low, ground level views are poetic in my minds eye, watching the bugs work.
Hurry bugs, not much left of me today, but watch out for my tongue, for it knows you well.