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Marti Sutherland Poem
I no longer recall my yesterdays
or the ho-hum, mundane things I once did
The years I spent suspended in life's haze
Shielding the wounded heart, I shyly hid
Until perchance the day I found someone
Whose tender heart reflected shades of blue
He wore a dark mask, but it came undone
When I searched his sad eyes, twas then I knew
Our days were filled with laughter and great joy
Long nights consumed with passionate desire
No reasons to hide in disguise as coy
In the throes of love we gladly conspire
No trace of deep loneliness we once knew
No memories of the days ~ before you
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2017
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Marti Sutherland Poem
Wish I was a snake slithering in the grass
or a big black spider on a pane of glass
Or a cobweb on the ceiling or a bug on the wall
a scarecrow in a field, ten feet tall
Wish I was a bee buzzing among the flowers
or a puppy in a puddle after a shower
I wish I was a rainbow up in the sky
or a bird, then away I would fly
But I'm just a little girl who wants to be
anything else. I just don't want to be me
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2016
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Marti Sutherland Poem
E yeing the majesty and magnificence in the great gifts of God's
C reations affects me in the most reflective way. The moon and
S tars provide light in my darkest nights, and the beauty of snow-
T opped mountain peaks makes me gasp in wonder. A golden sunrise
A cross green valleys is as resplendent a vision as the moments before
S unset, when its magenta drowning symbolizes another day is done.
Y ielding to time, I pause in awe of His splendors; totally entranced.
6/28/16
Ecstasy Acrostic
John Hamilton
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2016
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Marti Sutherland Poem
Lurking in the darkest shadows,
she looks for one of us to hound,
trying to catch a little glimpse
as she staggers along and limps
Spittle and drool keeps dripping
from yellow teeth and snarling lips.
She whines and hunches her back
picking out one of us to attack.
Alone because she's made enemies
of those who once pitied her, but
she never let us howl our intentions
and blocked any effort of intervention.
With watchful eyes she tries to be sly
and has an ego that's rude and annoying.
She's always waiting for the chance
to trounce, then do her trophy dance.
She takes swipes and nips at our butts
when she thinks she has the upper hand,
but her whining doesn't matter to us.
Our pack calls her 'the ornery old cuss.'
Let her coo and take those falsetto bows,
and let her think she's a ruling queen,
but we all know she's just a looney hyena
while we laugh at her haughty demeanor.
^. .^
1/31/17
Poetry in an animal's view
contest by Jamie
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2017
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Marti Sutherland Poem
In sheep's clothing they infiltrate, call you mate, lie in wait;
these sly wolves who seek to harm and disarm with charm.
It's a clever deed, founded in greed and meant to mislead.
Their nakedness would reveal the heart of steel they conceal.
Search behind the glint in their eyes to see their lies and alibis
Strip vile ones naked of that pseudo smile, glimpse their guile
Lay bare the amiable mask they wear. They will dare to ensnare.
Don't be naive and believe words spewed by those who decieve.
It's not uncouth to play the sleuth and expose the naked truth
of those who stalk and walk about while praising with sweet talk.
Don't be a fool thinking they're cool. It's a heap of wolfen stool.
Be shrewed! Denude the lewd ones so you don't get screwed.
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November 11, 2016
Naked Contest
Anthony Slausen
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2016
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Marti Sutherland Poem
WHO SOURED THE SOUP?
blog trolls
blowholes
bloggers
cloggers
daft clown
sad frown
a nerd
absurd
intense
pretense
Miss Putz
she's nuts
old goose
obtuse
one jerk
does lurk
sick dude
so rude
soup pun
such fun
March 20, 2017
Jan's Footles Contest
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2017
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Marti Sutherland Poem
Faces of older ones may be wrinkled, I confess,
but with many years of life they've been blessed.
Each smile and helping hand they have offered
is returned to them by memories in their coffers.
My heart is saddened by those who speak ill
of grannies and gramps with words of ill-will.
Do not mock fragile hands that cared for you
because their gray hair is now tinged with blue.
Though their eyesight grows weary and weak
gentle words of love they continue to speak.
Kindness still lives inside hearts beating slowly
But do not treat them as though they are lowly.
Place a sweet kiss upon an elder's upturned cheek
hold a veined hand instead of giving a rude critique
Spend a little more time with those who need care
and remember one day you'll be sitting in that chair.
Show respect for those who have reached old age
have patience with them instead of venting in rage
One day you will wear those wrinkles on your face
and you will welcome the arms of a loving embrace
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2016
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Marti Sutherland Poem
My vision cleared the moment he took my hand,
and this drab world became a colorful wonderland.
Summer grasses became a soft carpet of green.
Eyes full of love painted a canvas of hues, serene.
My heart turned the sky blue and clouds into crowns.
Robins were singing, bells ringing in harmonic sound.
The warmth of his touch rivaled the heat of the sun,
a golden circle to symbolize our love had begun.
Trees blossomed in brilliantly colored flowers.
Love has such extraordinary mystical powers.
I felt so light and happy, I might have been floating.
Forgive me if my new-found love has me gloating.
If holding his hand in mine made me feel like this,
I wonder what emotions I'll feel with our first kiss.
6/8/16
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2016
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Marti Sutherland Poem
Lured from home at a very young age.
On a journey, I listened to my own voice.
Loosened the strings of my adventurous spirit,
a kite set free on the winds of my choice.
Dived beneath coral reefs, tethered to lines
through which I breathed life-giving air.
Jumped from planes, depending on cords
to open chutes, and my life was spared.
Traveled through fierce enemy lines
where I often questioned war's worth,
but never felt the pull of love's ropes
stronger than the ones from giving birth.
My child and I were attached by a cord,
one that nothing and no one will sever.
Embraced and tied in a permanent knot,
that will tug at my heartstrings forever.
6/29/16
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2016
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Marti Sutherland Poem
With flaming lips and fingertips
casting words of cockeyed quips
behind a face powdered in white
preys a jackyll with teeth that bite
rouge on cheeks, evil guile at play
opened bottles of rich pouilly fume'
fruit of the vine, wine more devine
than one who waits for you, supine
Painted brows and charcoaled eyes
don't be fooled by a gender disguise
a fool you are if you fall for this villain
party girl who seems more than willin'
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2016
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