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Best Poems Written by Kp Nunez

Below are the all-time best Kp Nunez poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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To Take Each Day As It Comes

To take each day as it comes
To gratefully praise The One
Joyfully face the new dawn’s grace,
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To guard my thought as it roams
On anything or anyone
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To be careful with my words
To use the value of my hands
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To do everything I can
And bring a smile to not just one
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To celebrate other’s gain
Not consciously cause another's pain
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
Not all the time comes the sun
For sorrow comes to everyone
And that I must understand.

To take each day as it comes
And know that I’m but a man
I will be glad, life’s not that bad
And do my part in God’s plan.



*A resolution during a time of disappointment.

Kim Patrice Nunez
04 August 2015
image credit: Edwin Hofert

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015



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Do Not Grieve Your Muse

              (For My Younger Self)



You have forgotten your muse.
You neglected her, in the hustle and bustle
of city life, in trying to carve a niche,
driving yourself too hard -
thinking it could make you rich.

She grieves.
Don’t you see her? She grieves.
How she longs to reunite with you
but you are far too busy, with everything new.
Too unmindful, too steeped in the practical
your change was so radical;
Too pragmatic, everything has become automatic.  
You have lost touch with your muse, 
no matter how she pleads you have become obtuse.
When will you reach into the softer, 
more introspective part of yourself?  
Please do not say, never.

Remember how you would write through the night
and people around you would wonder why…
Those moments were priceless, 
the times you communed with words so ageless
as you poured onto paper all your emotions -
In the night, you would write of happiness and pain,
of a young love, and of your simple dreams.

Go back to those simple dreams.
Do not allow yourself to be lost 
in the conundrum that is Life.
Step back, take stock, be still.
Find time for meditation, there is no condemnation
for those who acknowledge the need for salvation.
And as you find that inner peace, 
write once more.
Write, and write some more.  
Set free all those words that have long been kept
within your heart…the happy words, the sad words,
words both simple and intricate
that a reader will enjoy as he masticates
the meaning, the lesson, the joy and young wisdom.

Let your words dance…let your words s o a r !






31 October 2015
Poem of the Day 01 November 2015
Awarded 1st Place  -  What Would You Say Contest


Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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My Solace, A Poet's Thoughts on Poetry

The wonder of nature you describe with the color of feelings that even the blind sees the beauty, for you anoint with your sight. From my forgotten core, words you inspire gush forth in indignant prose like the lion who protects her young, who roars in warning lest she devour. You lend me insight from your wisdom and give me laughter with your wit, you pump the pulse in my veins when passion and sensuality is lit. You kindle the fire in this heart when love is found and collect the ash from the burnt cinder that haunts, when love is lost. You hold my breath in exhilaration when I soar to triumphant heights, the balm that soothes my pain when I’m down, your song remains the solace I have found when life is hard, and the one profound expression of the myriad emotions that defy words of common use. O Poetry, you bring tears to my eyes, when in your lines I feel God cries as I endure and withstand the ugliness, the haughtiness, of someone’s pride. Yet with the turn of page and time, you coax from my lips such radiant smile for with each stage in this life of mine, a poem is birthed, flutters, and flies.
24 May 2015 Poem of the Week - 31 May to 06 June 2015 Awarded 1st Place for both A Poets's Worth Contest and My Favorite Poem Contest

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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CARMEN

Can a child ever forget, how deep a mother’s love abides

All those days since birth, till now I’m grown she guides

Remembering her smile, so tender, so warm as her embrace

More than soothes away my pain, my fear of failure and disgrace

Even in my dreams she comforts, her voice, her scent would stay

Never will her being mother stop, till when I’m old and gray.





26 March 2015
Contest : Acrostic on Mother's Day - 1st Place
Sponsor : TAMMY REAMS

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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A Mother's Envy and Pride

Lapis lazuli mines with wide blue eyes
bringing to mind precious stones and
caramel scones; innocent and wise -
Wondering, yet without surprise.

Staring down the universe, a challenge
in your look though you are young;
The earth made only nine revolutions 
since you came out to see the sun.

Unguarded and arched, your brows 
betray high wire tension; enough 
to light up a hundred moons and warm
plump cheeks to cherry bubble gum.

Be not impatient to grow; you smell
of open grasshopper meadows
and firefly lighted lakeshore walks.
You’re a mother’s envy and pride.

Red lips! Your passion for life exists.
Scarlet, lipstick would be a surfeit -
Today as then till many summer’s been,
your spirit will always be free as the mist.



After:  Portrait of Carol Nye  Rhoades (Robinson) (1915)


For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting No. 2
Kim Patrice Nunez
08 January 2016

Poem of the Week:  January 10-16, 2016

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2016



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To Forgive Or Not To Forgive

To forgive or not to forgive, that is the question.
When you are offended, whether real or imagined
by a loved one, a friend, or by someone esteemed,
do you confront the other, or resolve to be patient?

If by some stroke of luck, the offender apologized
but turns around, talking glib gobbledygook,
do you keep silent and still, looking cool as ice,
or do you tell it to his face, that he’s more than a crook?

At such time as this, or any time for that matter,
it is best to forgive whether he asks for it or not.
Do not poison your heart with cyanide blather;
bitterness can bother like a bat’s up your butt!

Forgiveness frees the offended from the devil’s deceit;
and makes you smile at the debtor, as his debt, you forfeit.



*First line draws on Hamlet's soliloquy, Act III, Scene 1; W. Shakespeare

A modern sonnet.  
06 October 2015
Poem of the Week - October 11 to 17, 2015

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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Mesmerized

I paint your beauty in my heart and mind  
in swirling strokes of wind squalls and light;
the youthful lift of limbs of early spring,   
with summer’s joyful red, with fall's surprise.
I paint you in wonder of winter’s white
through snow storm's chill and my loving eyes.

I paint you beyond the blue pain of the past
with the gray of fear the future hides.
Jealous of luring space and power of time, 
yet, with all the hope, the joy, the ache
as seen in the strength of my trembling hand;
I’ll paint you again my child, mesmerized.


After:  L'Enfant au Tablier Rouge, 1886 by Berthe Morisot


For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting 8
Kim Patrice Nunez
17 January 2016

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2016

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The Lady Of The House

It’s siesta, yet one can hear from the second floor of the house the animated sharing of juicy news some visitors have brought to the gracious host, the lovely widow of a wealthy sugar planter.  The sound of laughter is carried over the charming veranda bordered by lacy cast-iron grillwork, with its delicate oak leaf and acorn design and colorful, overhanging ornamental plants and flowers.  

Three Creole society matrons in their typical 1840s long dress fashion despite the sultry heat are being served their tea and fanned by the owner’s black slaves. They are talking about the strange happenings at what used to be Dr. Louis and Mdme. Delphine Lalaurie’s grand house at 1140 Royal Street, a few houses away from the where they are having an afternoon gossip. Apparently, the last tenant abandoned the Lalaurie house not only because of some ghost sightings and agonized sounds that were heard from within.  His furniture business inventory was also being mysteriously destroyed at night. 

The lady of the house remembers how Mdme. Delphine Lalaurie used to be a respected member of New Orleans society.  After the fire in 1834 and the subsequent discovery by firemen of seven emaciated slaves at the attic with obvious traces of abuse and torture, the couple and their four grown-up children had to flee in the middle of the night, or be lynched by the angry townsfolk.  

Were all the stories true?  Six years later, no human bones were discovered at the backyard, nor actual records or reports thereof, negating further accusations of slave murders, including that of a young girl who allegedly fell from the rooftop trying to escape her lady’s wrath.  If Mdme. Lalaurie was the inhuman monster the press accused her of that time, then all of her contemporaries were also guilty, including all plantation owners, for the practice of slavery was fundamentally immoral and depraved.  The lady of the house tells herself it is best to keep silent and let one person take all the condemnation.  This removes the attention of the press and the restless community away from her social circle and her own guilt. 


privileged mindset 
and undue exploitation -
cancer cell takes root




Inspired by A House in New Orleans Contest 
27 January 2016


Note:  The Lady of the House is a fictitious character, but relies heavily on historical background from:

1.	Mad Madam Lalaurie: New Orlean’s Famous Murderess Revealed  by Victoria Costner Love and Lorelei Shannon
2.	Old New Orleans, a History of Vieux Carre, Its Ancient and Historical Buildings by Stanley Clisby Arthur
3.	Mdme. Delphine Lalaurie, Wikipedia

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2016

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The Crosses In Your Eyes

You never really knew the beauty of your soul.
Of how it is possible to be both old and young
within the same body that tells about the years past,
but can put to shame so many of today’s indolent youth.

How were you able to retain such innocence,
for only a child can categorically say such abhorrence
of one type of food even with the knowledge that it is good?
Yet words of deep understanding pour forth from the same mouth.

When the gift to listen was showered upon the earth
you must have paid attention, for you have it in abundance
“To hear is normal, to listen, a gift, to understand...a miracle”*
One who would care to keep these words would understand. You do.

You are sensitive. Who would have thought it so?
You have that amazing capacity to command words to your bidding
and just the right touch of irreverence to twist them when it suits you.
Still and all, you feel the wound deeply and I’d hate to be the cause of it.

I tried to look into your heart through your words.
Words which were already read by many before I entered the scene
yet they did not see the sadness, the dark that lurked in the corner of your light -
They were too mesmerized by the laughter, to see the crosses in your eyes.






*John W. Wulf, author of the book The Lady Who Loves the Whisper  
___________________________________________________________
1. The Poetry Soup Poem of the Week - 02 August to 08 August, 2015
2. The Crosses In Your Eyes Contest - 3rd Place , 29 July 2015
    Sponsor: Justin Bordner - 
  
Kim Patrice Nunez
27 July 2015

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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WAVE INTO YOU

I was the one with the color-blue eyes, 
you were the wind on the sea. 
Of all the oceans tossed by your kiss 
why did it have to be me? 

                                                Pardon this wind for causing the wave. 
                                                One as free-spirited as I 
                                                was myself surprised, your gravity called, 
                                                your lips I could not deny. 

A soaring breeze calms not a sea 
and I would be remiss, 
to think my journey to your heart 
began with but a kiss. 

                                                Why would you wonder, oh King of the deep 
                                                did you not feel the spark, the magic? 
                                                You wound my heart, with thoughts that start 
                                                to doubt my intent, it’s tragic. 

Indeed I felt it, burning deep, 
your spark inflamed desire. 
Enraptured now, I long for more, 
my heart a raging fire. 

                                                 Arise, my King, from current doubt 
                                                 and begin to breathe anew. 
                                                 Haven't I hovered long enough 
                                                 for you to get a clue? 

Bend, oh Queen, yield your will 
and we will rise above, 
the ebb and tide of mortal bane 
swept away in love. 

                                                  Into your ocean I'll sail my vessel 
                                                  on a course set sound as stone. 
                                                  Prepare yourself oh majesty 
                                                  for I will share your throne.





A Collaborative Write by KIM PATRICE NUNEZ and JOHN WULF
16 April 2015
Poem of the Day - 18 April 2015

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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