Poetry competition CLOSED 17th August 2023 5:00am
Happiness?
Anonymous
She Is The Theory Of Everything
in her eyes
you'll see the resolution
of a billion stars
in breathless awe
submerging brilliance
of soul
simply gazing
into another universe
astrological heaven
Her star sign is beauty
Always in conjunction
With love
beware of her gravity
it will pull you
into her core
of fiery emotions
where creation lays
in burning passion
a new existence
Of physics
where theory gives way
to beautiful reality
defining realativity
love equals emotions
times passion squared
you'll see the resolution
of a billion stars
in breathless awe
submerging brilliance
of soul
simply gazing
into another universe
astrological heaven
Her star sign is beauty
Always in conjunction
With love
beware of her gravity
it will pull you
into her core
of fiery emotions
where creation lays
in burning passion
a new existence
Of physics
where theory gives way
to beautiful reality
defining realativity
love equals emotions
times passion squared
Anonymous
A Child’s Song
- A Child’s Song -
A Song about Innocence
Playing on the porch, not a care in the world,
A child knows so little of the pains we endure.
Yet their hearts are open, and they understand!
It’s sad those years don’t last; they run like sand.
Sand in the glass, and time flying by too quick…
I want to slow it down, and make the sand stick.
I’ve lost too much, and I’ve cried far too long,
Yet once I was a child, and I sang a child’s song.
Rainbows and day glows, and nursery tales,
Fighting with pirates on a ship that always sails.
These are the times that we don’t want to lose,
Because once they are gone, we cannot choose.
Dancing in the grass, seeing castles in the clouds,
A child doesn’t care about all the bustling crowds.
Yet their minds are open, and they learn in time…
It’s sad we can’t keep them innocent with a rhyme.
Rhymes in the wind, and the wind blowing fierce…
I wish the wind could take us back to simpler years.
I’ve become so lost, as the wind blew me along,
But within my heart, I’m still singing a child’s song.
Rainbows and cartoon shows; places to see,
Exploring the world, and sharing good company.
These are the times that we don’t want to pass,
Because they are precious, we want them to last.
Wishing on a star, seeing all the universe above,
A child flies there with a spirit as pure as a dove.
Yet their imagination is open, and they fill it all up!
It’s sad if we forget tasting our first ice cream cup.
Memories fade so fast, and new memories arise…
I want to hold on to them all; savor each surprise.
I’ve learned so much; I know right from wrong,
Though I can still go back and sing a child’s song.
Rainbows and hair bows, and rock and roll,
Hanging out ‘till midnight, dancing out of control.
These are the times that we don’t want to end,
Because hearts break so easy: so hard to mend.
A Song about Innocence
Playing on the porch, not a care in the world,
A child knows so little of the pains we endure.
Yet their hearts are open, and they understand!
It’s sad those years don’t last; they run like sand.
Sand in the glass, and time flying by too quick…
I want to slow it down, and make the sand stick.
I’ve lost too much, and I’ve cried far too long,
Yet once I was a child, and I sang a child’s song.
Rainbows and day glows, and nursery tales,
Fighting with pirates on a ship that always sails.
These are the times that we don’t want to lose,
Because once they are gone, we cannot choose.
Dancing in the grass, seeing castles in the clouds,
A child doesn’t care about all the bustling crowds.
Yet their minds are open, and they learn in time…
It’s sad we can’t keep them innocent with a rhyme.
Rhymes in the wind, and the wind blowing fierce…
I wish the wind could take us back to simpler years.
I’ve become so lost, as the wind blew me along,
But within my heart, I’m still singing a child’s song.
Rainbows and cartoon shows; places to see,
Exploring the world, and sharing good company.
These are the times that we don’t want to pass,
Because they are precious, we want them to last.
Wishing on a star, seeing all the universe above,
A child flies there with a spirit as pure as a dove.
Yet their imagination is open, and they fill it all up!
It’s sad if we forget tasting our first ice cream cup.
Memories fade so fast, and new memories arise…
I want to hold on to them all; savor each surprise.
I’ve learned so much; I know right from wrong,
Though I can still go back and sing a child’s song.
Rainbows and hair bows, and rock and roll,
Hanging out ‘till midnight, dancing out of control.
These are the times that we don’t want to end,
Because hearts break so easy: so hard to mend.
Anonymous
All That Matters
I've never gone streaking
at night in the rain,
I've never made love
at the back of the plane.
I've never met Elvis,
the Queen or the Pope,
I've not been to Holland
and smoked loads of dope.
I've not gone in search of
the source of the Nile.
I've failed in the running
of a four-minute mile.
I've had nothing published –
I'm a terrible poet!
(and this poem as proof
will certainly show it!)
I've not raced a bike
in the Tour de France,
I've never asked Sylvia Plath
for a dance,
I've not been to parties
with Hares and Mad Hatters,
but I have my Dormouse🐭
and that's all that matters ♥️
♐♈
at night in the rain,
I've never made love
at the back of the plane.
I've never met Elvis,
the Queen or the Pope,
I've not been to Holland
and smoked loads of dope.
I've not gone in search of
the source of the Nile.
I've failed in the running
of a four-minute mile.
I've had nothing published –
I'm a terrible poet!
(and this poem as proof
will certainly show it!)
I've not raced a bike
in the Tour de France,
I've never asked Sylvia Plath
for a dance,
I've not been to parties
with Hares and Mad Hatters,
but I have my Dormouse🐭
and that's all that matters ♥️
♐♈
Anonymous
ARTIFACTS
all that money gone
for 286 ibm compatible
with four megabytes
of random access memory
rolodex
polaroid square shooter
freakin' eight track
boom box
olympus OM1
rolodex
ford goddamn fiesta,
escort, ranger
smith corona with
self correcting ribbon
black & white analog TV
a thousand rolls of kodachrome
cassette tapes
beeper
answering machines
and dream on dream on dream
and then this woman
and that one
and houses
and goddamn apartments
and this job
and that
and bosses
all egos and attitudes
and the whole thing
an endless goddamned
treadmill marathon
and failure like some dark angel
on your heels
but then you're old
and, thank the gods,
still here,
digging the garden,
pruning the apple tree
in the early wet shoe
morning,
the sun bright enough
to blind you
and you're seeing
lover
sky
tree
everything
maybe for the first time
in your puny little life
and, jesus
if it ain't all just good
for 286 ibm compatible
with four megabytes
of random access memory
rolodex
polaroid square shooter
freakin' eight track
boom box
olympus OM1
rolodex
ford goddamn fiesta,
escort, ranger
smith corona with
self correcting ribbon
black & white analog TV
a thousand rolls of kodachrome
cassette tapes
beeper
answering machines
and dream on dream on dream
and then this woman
and that one
and houses
and goddamn apartments
and this job
and that
and bosses
all egos and attitudes
and the whole thing
an endless goddamned
treadmill marathon
and failure like some dark angel
on your heels
but then you're old
and, thank the gods,
still here,
digging the garden,
pruning the apple tree
in the early wet shoe
morning,
the sun bright enough
to blind you
and you're seeing
lover
sky
tree
everything
maybe for the first time
in your puny little life
and, jesus
if it ain't all just good
Anonymous
no need for drama
Happiness?
I'll tell you what it is.
It's an afternoon Sunday
and a nice slice of cake,
shared with someone you love.
Oh, yes.
♐♈
.
I'll tell you what it is.
It's an afternoon Sunday
and a nice slice of cake,
shared with someone you love.
Oh, yes.
♐♈
.
Anonymous
a precious dry rose
A
garden
of redroses
was smiling
in front of me,
but I loved only
the red rose that
died and was
hidden in
my
diary.
Neither
it
was
scented
nor
it
was
to
be
valued.
But for me it was priceless
as it was somehow alive as
a memory in the dilapidated pages..
n I am very happy about..!
garden
of redroses
was smiling
in front of me,
but I loved only
the red rose that
died and was
hidden in
my
diary.
Neither
it
was
scented
nor
it
was
to
be
valued.
But for me it was priceless
as it was somehow alive as
a memory in the dilapidated pages..
n I am very happy about..!
Anonymous
Happiness
Teach me to see
and only see
How love exists
Everywhere
Open my mouth,
wade in my pulse
And teach me to sing
Everything
Teach me to dive,
into her eyes
And keep on swimming
To the core of her light
Repeat the human song,
Sing “There’s a whale in me”
Teach me to be
A juniper tree
To live and die
Peacefully
and only see
How love exists
Everywhere
Open my mouth,
wade in my pulse
And teach me to sing
Everything
Teach me to dive,
into her eyes
And keep on swimming
To the core of her light
Repeat the human song,
Sing “There’s a whale in me”
Teach me to be
A juniper tree
To live and die
Peacefully
Anonymous
Happiness
I have heard it said ‘happiness is only real when it’s shared’
What a wonderful mantra for my life
Never again to worry about the objects I have accumulated
Not to fret about getting the borrowed book back
To become excited about the experiences we will have together
To not be concerned about my precious independence anymore
Or mentally calculate if I can afford a potential separation
For the memories I will make are indeed priceless
The laughter together and even the tears
The grief we will share together, a prop for our souls
Happiness was always there lurking in plain sight
But I was too complicated before to truly recognize it
I offer you to share in my life, my happiness, my future
And in return we will banish those lonely moments
For those independent, strong traits are indeed meaningless
compared to me sharing my happiness and you sharing yours
My true authentic self has just discovered joy
Spread the word!
What a wonderful mantra for my life
Never again to worry about the objects I have accumulated
Not to fret about getting the borrowed book back
To become excited about the experiences we will have together
To not be concerned about my precious independence anymore
Or mentally calculate if I can afford a potential separation
For the memories I will make are indeed priceless
The laughter together and even the tears
The grief we will share together, a prop for our souls
Happiness was always there lurking in plain sight
But I was too complicated before to truly recognize it
I offer you to share in my life, my happiness, my future
And in return we will banish those lonely moments
For those independent, strong traits are indeed meaningless
compared to me sharing my happiness and you sharing yours
My true authentic self has just discovered joy
Spread the word!
Anonymous
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come
I remember the bounce
of a bus ride into Liverpool
and a rolling ferry that made me so sick
I had to sit on his knee.
My small fingers ploughed the fields
on his potato sack face
as he kept a weather eye on the Mersey
and swamped me with his huge farm-hand hands.
I love you grandad I said, touching his cheek
beneath a gaze that drifts towards an ocean.
and there it was,
a smile that fitted perfectly into
every furrow on his face.
of a bus ride into Liverpool
and a rolling ferry that made me so sick
I had to sit on his knee.
My small fingers ploughed the fields
on his potato sack face
as he kept a weather eye on the Mersey
and swamped me with his huge farm-hand hands.
I love you grandad I said, touching his cheek
beneath a gaze that drifts towards an ocean.
and there it was,
a smile that fitted perfectly into
every furrow on his face.
Anonymous
Happiness
Happiness is a smile
On the face of a child
So brilliantly lighted
With delight
At the sight
Of her mother's love
Happiness is a look
In a lover's eyes
Looking at her beloved
Mouthing the words
I love you
From across the room
Happiness is the touch
Of a mother's hand
On the forehead
Of a beloved child
It's happiness...
Of life love and sacrifices.
On the face of a child
So brilliantly lighted
With delight
At the sight
Of her mother's love
Happiness is a look
In a lover's eyes
Looking at her beloved
Mouthing the words
I love you
From across the room
Happiness is the touch
Of a mother's hand
On the forehead
Of a beloved child
It's happiness...
Of life love and sacrifices.
Anonymous
In Love with His Illusion
There he goes again
Building a picturesque world
Creating the perfect reverie to escape to where he fully dives in
It’s more than a fantasy
It’s more than just a dream
It’s a flawless delusion he composes with heart and mind and pen
Without hesitation
His new infatuation
Gives him the inspiration to make a realm of love and nothing more
But the immense intense elation
Coupled with his imagination
Invokes a hollow fire that burns deep within like it never has before
…again…
How long will this happiness last?
Will his resolve be steadfast?
The pedestal he’s constructed is made of smoke and mirrors and sin
He’s in love with his illusion
There’s no foreseeable resolution
That is until their next eclipse, when it comes around, they’ll meet again
