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Best Poems Written by Greg Barden

Below are the all-time best Greg Barden poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Greg Barden Poem

tell the night to hold me -

I made for you, a castle
but I built it in the sand
I steadfastly tried
to constrain the tide
but the bastions didn't stand

I planned for you, an Eden
with needs to see us through
but the ripened fruits
had corrupted roots
and I fed them all to you

tell the night to hold me
I no longer have your arms
I'll brood and swoon
cradled by the moon
still pining for your charms

tell the night to hold me
June no longer follows May
'til the moonbeams, blue
drift me back to you
I'll forget about you ... every day.

I dreamed for you, a family
with two parts that acted one
yet my truth's demise
only bred goodbyes
lucid of the tales I'd spun

I wished for you a future
ripe with jubilance and mirth
still left recanted
and took for granted
the measure of its worth

tell the night to hold me
I no longer swim your eyes
instead I stare
into vacant air
and count the countless why's

tell the night to hold me
'til Apollo's old and gray
for until the stars
are not mine, but OURS
I'll forget about you ... every day.

I desired for you a partner
who would stand beside you, true
though that came to be
that man wasn't ME
and it broke my heart in two

I promised you'd be happy
and in ways, that's come to be
wed a man who's good -
loves you as he should
I just wish it had been me

tell the night to hold me
it no longer heeds my will
as I feared the most
I've become a ghost
and I haven't tears to spill

tell the night to hold me
for I've no more left to say
please remand what's just
as I turn to dust
and forget about you ...

every day ...

'til I'm swept with wind, away

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Best Poem Ever" Premiere Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "N/A The Day Away" Poetry Contest, Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Choice (2), Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Poem of the Day" Poetry Contest, Richard Lamoureux, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Last Letter To My Beloved" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Piece De Resistance" Poetry Contest, The Name Forsakes Me, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Lost Love 2017 Poetry Contest", John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Screwed XX" Poetry Contest, Rob Carmack, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Your Best Poem" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.

~ Poem Of The Day ~ on Poetry Soup, featured and awarded on July 7, 2017 - thank you kindly, Admins!

~ Number 15 Top Poem ~ on Poetry Soup's Top 100 All-Time Best Poems List

Details | Greg Barden Poem

borne upon the air at dusk, dancing ... I have whispered you in a million voices
still, you descry not my utterance? Listen, yet, for all is precious ...
in the tremble of the plum blossoms - is the tender truth not there?
in the aching sigh of spring-tide, longing for the touch of LIFE

does my intent not appear ... clearly?
in the hollow goodbye of the passing, placed into cold soil
or scattered, spinning, on the breeze ... in the belly laugh of a child,
finding untarnished joy for the first time ... in the bloom of creation

come to realization on the tip of a slender branch .. hearken yet, close! There!
feel it ... HEAR it! Within the keen and cold desperation of winter wind ...
inside the scratchings of fear, black as coal ...
deep, deep within the horror of oblivion, and the knowledge

that the ONLY thing that endears life to itself, is the LOSS of it ...
here - here in the breath of silence ... brushed aside, oh so gently,
like the strands of hair from a baby's forehead in the midst of fever ...
like a lover painted in moonbeams - lost in moments,

drowning in the hope that intimacy means something more ...
like the glint in the eye of a pet, whose owner's caress is everything ...
like the rusty tears of a madman, doomed,
shed for the sake of life sacrificed in reclamation ...

like the warm pulse of lifeblood, coursing ...
like the wash of phosphorescence on a beach,
where countless souls were given - sacrificed needlessly
for the aims of self-important fools, half a world away ...

like the frost on a window, left by the breath of a dying promise ...
like the shudder of skin, touched by attentive fingertips in passion ...
like the cold kiss of a friend, lost, set free by the failing of a respirator
a final farewell to an existence of pain ...

like the face of a dear one, cradled in your palms in the wish for forgiveness ...
I have spoken to you in earnest - across the addled ages,
you have felt my breath warm on your cheek, yet you walk on, careless
you buzz about your life in apathy and indifference,

searching for integral meaning, when that meaning was yours all the time ...
the preciousness of this existence, is ONLY of such value for two reasons:
it is BRIEF ... and you are mortal ...
life is the only true gift you are EVER given

and death the unshakable assumption of its worth
death is ultimate, inescapable ...
but in all its dark disguises, it is the one TRUE element that we require
the one true measure of importance,

and the salvation of all that is good and estimable,
for LIFE is worthless without it ...
its precious spark, doused with but a breath of limitless value.
I have whispered that to you in a million voices ...

have you not heard me?

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Choice (3), Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the the "Favorite Free Verse" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "How Precious Life Is" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.

Details | Greg Barden Poem

no poet am I -

a poet, you say? pardon no, not am I
there's only ONE poet - He writes on the
sky
of sunsets and stars, of space without end
with a dazzling bright ink and ethereal pen

of rainbows and sun dogs, anvils and rains
mists from the moors, breeze-tickled plains
of haze-shrouded hills and cloud-crusted
peaks
of sunrise horizons with blush on their
cheeks

of green flash, auroras, of comets and
moons
the fair constellations that rollick and swoon
of bright, stabbing bolts that pierce the
dark skies
and spiraling storms with the sun in their
eyes

you see …

all that He authors is authentic and true
light years beyond what MY words can
construe
but every-so-often, He blesses this fool
and imparts me the mercy to make me His
tool

yes, I'd love to take credit, but I must keep
in sight
I’m a pen out of many, with which He may
write
so I may seem a bard with these verses I've
spun
but regarding TRUE poets, there's really …
just ...

ONE.

~ 8th Place ~ in the "Poetry Marathon Mile 21" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Best Poem In The Last Year" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Sponsor.

~ 3rd Place ~ in the "What Inspires You To Write Poetry" Poetry Contest, Julie Rodeheaver, Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Any Poem That Got NA'd June - July 2017 Poetry Contest", Janice Canerdy, Sponsor.

~ 4th Place ~ in the "Creative Collective Anthology Series" Poetry Contest, Geraldine Taylor, Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Best Rhyming Poem 3 Poetry Contest", John Hamilton, Sponsor.

* Recently featured in "The Creative Collective Anthology Series 2", published by Geraldine Taylor, available for purchase. *

Details | Greg Barden Poem

Life, To Me

Colors daubed for seasons' scenes
          I sift through life for what it means
               In spite of chaos, shades and flings
     It comes down to the simple things

The mountain tops, the dark abyss'
          Have ground my egos down to this
               Of all the chance and spheres I'm of
     Life's worth and essence is ... but LOVE

Indeed, I've lived big moments, too
          The raptures and sweet rendezvous
               Moving mountains - burning skies
     Bright lilting lashes, soft lullabies

Shedding poisons like second skin
          Too few dreams to wear them in
               I dared the devil, danced with death
     Swore for mercy's whisp'ring breath

So just when ends seemed all to be
          This extra chance was proffered me
               Don't take for granted or yet waste
     That vigor gained from rigors faced

Don't tend concerns to end or start
          It's what's between that fills a heart
               True meaning - love's enduring kiss
     A life's no less or more ... than THIS.





~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Strand Select, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 7th Place ~  in the "Favourite Poem From May, 2019" Poetry Contest, Julia Ward, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~  in the "The Meaning of Life" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.

Details | Greg Barden Poem

Joined By Words

~ for my fellow poets ~


as slaves to the pen
or our keyboard, more apt
this molding of words
in a word, holds us rapt

fine fancies or fears
take us places unknown
our muse and our craft
better focused alone

the voice of our id -
the bounce of our rhyme
thus, charming or edgy
depending the time

midst romantic puddles
and whimsical trees
we splash our ideas
casting love to the breeze

a danger or hope or
a scorched trist-or-two
occur mind-to-matter
with the lines we imbue

the light AND the dark,
they both hold allure
our child's heart within -
just a tad bit impure

for tho we adore all the
things blithe and bright
we also know beauty
blooms deep in the night

if somber or joyous
thru passage or pain
it’s creatively ordered
thru rhyme and refrain

it's not that we're allied
- that we always agree
it's how we can sculpt
all the wonders we see

so although we may be
as different as spices
we’re thrall to our verses
whatever that price is

for it's a rare language
that few can command
but we speak it together
with a pen in our hand

so you may be a person
whom I've never met
but the gift of your writing
I'll never ...

forget.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "What Do We Have In Common" Poetry Contest, Kim Rodrigues, Sponsor.

~ Poem of the Day ~  featured on Poetry Soup.com on May 11, 2018 - many thanks to those in charge for the honor.

Details | Greg Barden Poem

falling like leaves -

oh, how a fair breeze of Autumn can stir
my heart with reprieves - the redolent
leaves
remembrance of romance with you in a blur
soft eyes in a camber of absinthe and
amber
wheaty hair spilling like corn silk, to
shoulders
framing two spicy bow lips as they
smoldered
- falling like leaves ... for you

oh, how this time lifts me back to a dream
our ivy-clad schools, such unripened fools
a world as our oyster, and raw, it would
seem
escaped to the woods - discarding our
goods
we swam on a blanket of bright, leafy death
straining in passions to fever our breath
- falling like leaves ... for you

oh, how the chill always kindled our flame
pining each week for the rose of your cheek
weekends, adoring the ways that you came
our fleshy memoirs 'neath branches and
stars
each mutual climax, far sweeter than last
the moments exhausted, like us, far too fast
- falling like leaves ... for you

oh, Autumn still sings in my sinews today
the libertine flood yet coursing my blood
you waken my core in the most vexing way
when October flies I ache for your sighs
tho' bones are now brittle, the mem'ries
remain
chaotic obsessions and prurient pains
someday I'll lose them, like tears in the
rain
- falling like leaves for you ...

still falling ... in Deja vu.

~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Strand Choice B, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Your Choice Seasons-Festivals Verse, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Choice (6), Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 4" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Into The Woods" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Best Rhyming Poem July Thru September" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~ in the "Autumn Romance" Poetry Contest, Julie Rodeheaver, Judge & Sponsor.

( This is a form I created called "QARINAGE" - it has a very unusual-but-specific rhyme scheme and rhythm with a repeating refrain that is also the title. This is a re-working of an older piece )

Details | Greg Barden Poem

a crow command -

I be a common salty once
          no captain's bars, did bear
               yet blessed was I to venture
     where few a skipper dared

from crow's nest high aloft I saw
          those bright coast beacons wink
               thru biting spray's December gale
     what shoals and reefs would sink

for countless days I rocked atop
          that oaken spar’s good length
               as wake and skies conveyed my eyes
     Lord Neptune's sullen strength

busy dogs, the mates and jacks
          bent hard while tasked below
               as toward the sky, a glass to eye
     my post waved to-and-fro

first was I to e'er spot land
          my voice, the first to yell
               first to sight the skull and bone
     and raise loud warning bell

"Thar she blows!" was oft' my cry
          if spied foamed breach, had I
               and "Friend or foe?!?" the question barked
     when strange sails split the sky

but moments to becalm my soul
          as swells tick-tocked the time
               were star-filled nights, a bullion moon
     and the phosphorescent brine

the darkest times were battlements
          when the ship groaned in its might
               but never dark, those eventides -
     sea and vault - awash with light!

quite rare it was to find this tar
          midst the deck or down below
               and rarer still would I abdicate
     my realm there, high the crow

well, I'm adrift on shore now
          with old brittle bones and gray
               yet in my lubber's mind I still
     climb masts to watch and sway

I bounce wee kin on knobby knees
          and spin those swabbie tales -
               of Elmo's Fire and scorching skies
     wild battles, storms, and whales

and when the angels task me
          to one new and heav'nly crow
               I'll bend gaze to a looking glass
     and give a hearty "Tally-ho!"






~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Verse A Favoured Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 5th Place ~ in the "2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 5" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Favorite Rhyming Poem Ever" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 8th Place ~ in the "Create A Character" Poetry Contest, Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Best Rhyming Poem This Year" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.

Details | Greg Barden Poem

Dancing With Mom

When I was just a wee one
          my mom taught me to dance
               to start, I balanced on her toes
     but then steps more advanced

She showed me how to Fox Trot
          (I could cut a decent rug)
               also, waltzing and the Samba
     but we'd mostly ... jitterbug

Oh, that was my mom's favorite
          that she always danced with Dad
               I'd seen them do it here-or-there
     (to perfection, I might add)

They had some mesmerizing moves
          and a chemistry quite rare
               a flow and rhythm, wondrous -
     like they truly danced on air!

My dad worked many hours then
          so to catch them was a treat
               swinging tight to big band Jazz
     with their twirling arms and feet

To watch them, smooth as butter
          made my efforts seem quite weak                       
               so when I could, I'd bother mom
     for some shine to my technique

I wasn't half as good as Dad
          still, 'twas special for us both
               so every chance, we'd jitterbug
     throughout my years of growth

When on my own, I'd often go
          and stay with them a while
               making time to dance with Mom
     cuz it always made her smile

Oh, some might find it trivial
          but it bloomed in her with joy
               as it danced us back to mem'ries
     when she'd taught me as a boy

When MY wee ones came along
          I taught THEM how to dance
               so they can jitterbug now, too
     and shake and twirl and prance!

Well, Mom's now in her nineties
          and her bones aren't very strong
               but the other night we danced again
     (tho' she didn't last for long)

We gently placed the self-same steps
          even turned a couple spins
               but it wasn't long before we quit
     for the strength had left her limbs

Some teary sparkles lit her eyes
          and a smile adorned her face
               for tho' a bounce had left her step
     she'd danced her best with grace

We mightn't get the chance again
          this world made the way it is
               and Dad awaits hereafter, now
     for that last sweet dance is his

But someday when I'm slowing
          and my seas of life grow calm
               I'll look ahead with joy, once more ...
     for the chance ... to dance ...

With Mom.   <3







~ 1st Place ~  in the "Mother" Poetry Contest, Constance La France, Judge & Sponsor.

Details | Greg Barden Poem

Nana's Hands

Through the years they worked their spells
From drawers and cupboards, taking things
That through them, thus, were given wings
And changed to sweetness meant for kings
With warm and wafting scrumptious smells
My Nana's hands ...

Countless times we'd strolled to town
To shop for what she'd need that eve
(First taking stock before we'd leave)
A shopping list tucked up her sleeve
My wee lad's fingers, safe and sound
In Nana's hands ...

The way back home was twice as long
Our arms filled plump with paper sacks
The makings and some special snacks
Oh, how the groceries bent our backs
Yet even then, I held on tight ...
To Nana's hands ...

Still it was always worth the chores
To watch her mix and bake and cook
While dancing to-and-from her nook
And glancing, sometimes, in a book
Oh, how I marveled and adored ...
My Nana's hands ...

But sometimes they were hard to hold
Curled with arthritis, wracked with pain
She oft' times had to stretch and strain
Though NEVER did she ONCE complain
Through rheumatism's stranglehold ...
On Nana's hands ...

See ...

Those bent old hands in disrepair
Worked twice as hard so we could eat
Thus each night's meal and every treat
Was that much more divine and sweet
All from the love and tender care ...
Of Nana's hands ...

And still, my fingers long to share ...
My Nana's
Gentle ...
Hands.

- by Gregory R Barden

~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Cornucopia Cooking" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.

Details | Greg Barden Poem

summer rain -

I wade into the surf and stand alone

                    enfolding in my arms, the dust of You

                              I hear the raving wind lament and moan

          as if the summer storm is mourning, too ...



how sweet, the tender moments on these sands

                    'midst moonbeams or the sun, love unrehearsed

                              how oft' we spoke of these dear mortal plans

          I never dreamed that you would be the first ... 



I breathe your wispy ashes as they're thrown

                    and whisper your name softly while I do

                              I lost you once, and now I've lost again

          as all my tears are lost ... in summer rain.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "N/A Re-Run" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.

(N/A'd on February 13, 2019, "2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 17" Poetry Contest)

          ~

~ 1st Place ~  in the "Funeral, Eulogy, Or Memorial Service" Poetry Contest, Team Poetry Soup, Judge & Sponsor.

(I call this form "Dodici Rima" or Broken Rhyme of twelve lines)