My Grandfather
He was an amazing man
So much he overcame
He spoke his words with stutter
He struggled with dementia
I felt terrible for him
He spent his final years in peace
Today we got a call
His heart was beating slow
We rushed to say our goodbyes
I saw him lying on his bed
He looked well
Then he started to speak
I....Love......You
He said clear as day
We all then smiled
A miracle it was today
Although maybe his last
Since he looked well
We then asked a few questions
To see what he remembered
We almost forgot he was dying
And time seemed wasted
He didn't remember much
Not even what state he was in
But some things he couldn't forget
When was our wedding?
My grandmother asked
He struggled to breathe
But he spoke
A...Ap...April...
Fi....Fif.......Fift.........Fiftee....
He spoke with tears on his face
His heart stopped beating
And those were his last words
Interesting way to get around the theme restrictions. I like the narrative here, but I think it could be stronger, like by removing line 6 and 11 and possibly rewording it so the context stays in the poem.
A fortnight and day
A performance to enjoy
Dancing to music.
What I father from this is that there is a 15-day music festival or some other fifteen day celebration that is a break from the humdrum of day-to-day life.
Focus now, for the seeds of knowledge I have to sow
i saw nothing in these lands, young child, that should ever be
forgotten, I was quite appalled, you know,
to see the way we, humanity, failed to grow,
enamored with such frivolous things.
ever should I look back on the world I saw there'd be
nothing that we could possibly bring.Lost cities, left plundered.
old churches, to rot.
noting that the places I found,
gave nothing, for that was all that they brought.
Yesterday I stopped to think of those days, for
every forgotten city that I rummaged for knowledge
added to my desire to return, for only by
retracing my steps, weary, wiser, and with feeling a bit privileged,
should I know these years were days well spent.
Interesting take on the theme and the restrictions.
Quarter past three
Walking alone
With nothing much to go home toFighting back tears
Turning away
From what I have got to go home to
Parents are great
When they are not
All that you have to go home to
Under a bridge
Hiding from rain
Is now all the home I come home to
Quarter past three
Passing the husk
That was once the home I came home to.
I think the first two lines in each stanza are too forced and strained in keeping with the visual symmetry/syllable count amongst the lines.
"Febuary Fifteen"In the morning, where are you awake?
Sore is the heart, or beating with haste.
Comprehend the meaning of what yesterday was,
Or suffocate in your hate.
Know not of love, but of compassion,
Know not of success, but of rejection.
Fill your mind with previous day's memory,
Or be poisoned by yesterday's intoxication.
Quote your words, meant for another,
Give, but receive only what was given.
Don't expect the boldest of decisions,
or disappointment in the highest of expectations.
T'was not war, nor battle,
but deserving of purple hearts.
More have fallen into the meaning of the day,
than those who arisen, for the purpose of it's stay.
Fear not because love comes with time,
and be patient for the years to come.
Just a day has passed since your happiness or depression,
but when you wake up on this day,
wake to the songs of your ambition.
No day means more than the other,
They are just labels we put for presently fated.
In the days you live, don't frown upon your absent partner,
Just smile upon your future love of each other.
While this poem does convey heartbreak, without the title there is no indication that this is the day after Valentine's or how fifteen fits in this poem.
Is it but a dream
That this round have a theme?
Because I am lost
Amidst the lack of posts
Like a.........
Frost.
Dying in the frigid staleness.
Lying in wait for the cold to abate.
Someone else needs to try
Because it's my time to say goodbye.
I like the way this poem reads, except for the last line, because it's unnecessary and doesn't actually add anything to it.
Thou must now be seen,
a question, a theme, a tale?
What doth Gantic mean?.
I don't know. What does the first line here mean and how does it add to the rest of the haiku? I can't figure that out.
The fascade of this
Undiscovered, new season
Seeks the golden light.
Facade is misspelled here. Undiscovered and new seems redundant and there shouldn't be redundancy in such a short form.
Title - A Warm Fuzzy FeelingI was about to go to Bed,
With my tummy completely fed.
Out of the window I peered,
And saw the snow being cleared.
I also saw a dog sleeping on the cold lane,
And seeing it suffer was like a great bane.
Hardly did I recognize a puppy sleeping next to it,
And I wondered how the cold night could be borne by it...
The suffering of the dogs melted my heart,
And my mind reminded me of my secret 'art'.
All the light of my home were put out,
And I could not contain myself from sneaking out.
I slipped into my snow-filled backyard
And was away from the fence by a few yards.
I used all my might in jumping over it,
And I succeeded in doing it!
As I went closer to the dog,
I saw that it had slept on a bog.
As I drew near, the Image became clear -
The dog had a litter of four puppies!
All my thoughts of comforting the dogs started shattering,
But, If, I left the puppies there, they would start wailing.
Then out of nowhere, an idea struck my mind,
An idea which would make others describe me as 'very kind'.
I woke the dogs and guided them to my fence,
To a spot, next to which was parked a Benz.
I helped the mother dog above the fence, followed by her wards.
And lo! All the dogs were in my snow-filled backyard.
In the backyard, I found a quiet place below a stack of logs
I decided that it would be the housing place of the silent dogs.
I guided them to go under the logs and found the place to be free of bugs!
I sneaked into my room again and emerged with my cozy bed-sheet .
The eyes of the dogs were filled with gratitude,
Enough to soften any person's attitude.
For the night, I knew that the dogs would lie dormant.
But, in the morning, I would have to explain everything to my parent.
The fuzzy dogs could not explain their 'warm feeling', physically or verbally,
Which left me a set of mixed feelings, totally!
I left the dogs to their sleep and went back to bed,
Recollecting the taste of the Dessert that I had been fed.
Now, back at the bed I was,
I realized that I had given away my bed-sheet,
Without which I would be at a loss.
And this, gave me a chance to be the Boss!
I went near the wardrobe, thinking of everything that I had to explain,
I swiftly opened it, and took out my brother's new bed-sheet, hoping he would not complain...
There were small synthetic fibres emerging from all over it
And that was the only reason that made me to hate it.
I had no option but sleep under it, certain that it would be uncomfortable.
But, it gave me some warmth. The thought that I had helped the dogs made me happy.
I then remembered the inexpressible happiness which I had seen in the dogs' eyes,
And that, gave me a good feeling - A Warm Fuzzy Feeling!
This poem gets better after the first few stanzas. Some of the rhymes here seem awkward and forced, like the use of 'bane' and 'bog' in particular.
"A flower blooms in winter
the image of it's perfection forgotten
a butterfly touches the flower as it dies
Slowly feeling its innocence fade
and what was left were the cold winds of entropyThe butterfly was a creation of it's truth
born to evolve into something greater
but took the life of something not akin
it's sin grew in manifestation, within shall he burn
all that was left were wings burnt by flames
ashes of the self draw into non existence
life is left with all honesty
inside one had morphed into hell
and lifted
Deformation"
I'm not sure why the poem switches to telling the reader that the butterfly is a metaphor. Most of the poem is simile and it's too heavy on the simile. Also, "its" is misspelled as "it's"
Collecting herself from missed opportunity,
They march forward, men of impunity,
Passed her broken breath so quick.Senses heightened, each can feel the other.
Regret for her choice to hover
Amongst the area after the sound.
The moment arrives, their backs turned!
She darts, excitement for what was yearned,
As she escapes those which were so sick.
The fox arrives to the mews of her young,
Crying for the soft attention of the mother's tongue
Before she snuggles in, safe and sound.
Second line of the second stanza doesn't read right to me no matter how many times I go over it. The way this sentence is cut up is at odds with the sentences, because it's a sentence fragment. The wording is odd and seems to be made to fit the the rhyme and syllable count. But I like the way criticism of fox hunting is presented here.
How fast does time go,
I've turned into something I wasn't yesterday
Yet I the same.
Why do I feel happy,
Why do I feel like I've changed?
Yes I the same.
Who gave me this Knighthood?
Who gave me this date?
Why am I the same?
What was done to me,
To make me happy,
Yet the same.
Will tomorrow be different,
will yesterday be different,
Or will it be the same.
There is a repetition here, every three lines, but it feels like the two lines preceding the third are just filler. The first and third and fifth and then the second and fourth feel like they're rewording the same idea, without adding much new information, so it reads like it could have been a lot shorter poem.
The winners? Well, congratulations be to @Saphire24 for "A fortnight and a day" and @pangtongshu for "Collecting herself from missed opportunity". Let me know if for be not receiving of the quest or merit if should you not have one. Mostly because I hate this keyboard and it is tripping me up with words I shouldn't be misspelling because the keys just aren't sensitive enough.
