Poetry and Creative Writing for All

The Top 5 Poems of the Month

May 2007

	Angelita Redfern is now a Featured Poet! Read her biography and more of her poems

Vanity

Life caress the beauty of its own,
Bound to be discreet with perfection,
And how can be avoided by distortion,
A mind that conceals only self preservation.

Guarding oneself, protecting, admiring,
And admiring the creation of oneself, daring,
Not, to waste time and fell behind, moving,
A world that put oneself into a pedestal, living

Into the highest of all, with deception,
That ones heartbeat with most appreciation
Everyone loves and adores, & with great action,
Oneself fulfil great satisfaction.

Its been so hard, oneself is in vain,
The way of life so perfect with pain,
Pain in heart to reveal the truth, & its insane
Pretending to be better in the eyes of all humane.

Looking into oneself, today, tomorrow, and days to come,
Is bearable by those in limelight, though time,
Is short and indeed become,
The famous people and adores by all.

Now.... oneself retire and vain banished,
Pretensions, imitations, deceptions, all banished,
Banished indeed, though shall increase ,
Clean concience, without vain, with good human life, at least!

Angelita Redfern

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Here are the other four winning poems for this month.

Resigned to Freedom

I resign. I resign.
Farewell job no longer mine.

Sad, it started out so well,
Heaven ended up as Hell.
Hopes and dreams that turned to dust,
Want to stay, but leave I must.
Indignation, hurt and rage.
Stop. Breathe deeply. Turn the page.
Focus on the positive,
Don’t look back. Get out there. Live!
Little voice of Common Sense
Whispers: ‘It’s Experience.’
Hello Freedom – Factor Wow,
Open door to here and now.
Leave without a backward glance,
Seek adventure, take a chance.
Save the good, reject the bad,
Don’t mourn what you’ve never had.
Healing time diffuses stress,
Penury is Happiness.
Walk away with head held high,
Now’s the time to say Goodbye.

Farewell job, no longer mine.
I resign.
Yes, I resign.

Norma Fraser Reid

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Around the Lake

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Memories of Grandpa

My grandpa taught me how to skip,
When I was very small,
He took my hand to lead me,
As we galloped down the hall,
The shoppers looked amused at us,
But grandpa didn’t care,
His dark eyes twinkled happily,
Framed by his silver hair.

My grandpa taught me how to live,
To savour each new day,
"The future is not ours to know,
The past has gone away.
We have right now, this moment,
So live it like your last,
‘Cause all those fleeting moments,
Will soon make up your past."

My Grandpa taught me how to die,
With grace and dignity,
To face the final curtain call,
Without timidity.
His gnarled hands held me tenderly,
He smiled and gave a nod.
He said, "Please don’t wait up for me,
I have a date with God."

I often think of grandpa
And the sparkle in his eye,
How his life was so worth living,
That it didn’t hurt to die.
Sometimes I gaze at heaven,
On a brisk and bright-lit night,
I can see my Grandpa winking,
In each twinkling, starry light.

Timothy James

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One Office, one Morning

Hot medicine filled, the coffee cup
Slightly shaking, invisible,
From having been set down.
Red-shined fingertips
Now making their way
Across black table top, not marble,
For now, perfect. Refracting
Blue sky above, blue below.

Across the room a scold shouts
Choked like a sneeze
Muted into curses.
Caffeine atoms cling to nylon
Spreading like sweat
As the tension chimes, is blended
With chatter, dissipates.

Clocks work, for now.
Though those looking in later
Would wish they could stretch time and window,
Push their fingers against straining hands
Flickering like raging butterflies
A second’s flight away.

Imagine then, that split-frame half-life.
Coats frozen lifted from wet shoulders,
Smiled greetings deforming faces about to pass on,
Illusionist’s feet inches from just-cleaned carpet fibres
Hovering between flight and floor.

Voices, thoughts, so loud, so bright,
Orchestra unconducted in its greatest work.
A drum spilling with sedimentary grafts of love, hopes, gossip, art, names, friends,
words, syllables, letters, sounds, stops, undulating, bang – a scream.

It is deafening.

Lauren Turner

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To submit a poem to the Online Poetry Competition, email inbox@forwardpress.co.uk (Enter Top 5 Poems of the Month in the subject line, including your name and postal address)

Or post your poems to Top 5 Poems of the Month, Forward Press Ltd, Remus House, Coltsfoot Drive, Peterborough PE2 9JX (Write your name and address on each piece of work you send)