Best Figure Poems

leaves whirl and cling to stout bough and branches -
sigh with tempered lows and highs

verdant spring is vast
a cornucopian nest -
sound of leaves flapping

the weeps, oaks and maples enthrall
father figure - sturdy and tall
rest for the wild ones and the mind
the shelter of shapes -...

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Figure skating is rhythm, dance, art, and poetry, presented as a visual masterpiece.

Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~ 
Contest: Give Me Your Best One-Liner 
Sponsor: Silent One 
Judged: 07/17/2016 

~1st Place~ 
Contest: One-Liner 4 
Sponsor: Silent One 
Judged: 12/10/2015
...

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Time has come 
For me to put paper to pen,
Or is it pen to paper?
If I put paper to pen
Is it on top or down below?
If I put pen to paper
Which direction does it go?

I opt for the one 
Where I sit down to write,
Not...

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Enchanted sequins move with laser precision
Sensationally choreographed pyrometrics dance
Mystifying wingless flight of earthbound spirits
Steadily intensifying blurred colors streak by
Blades defy gravity suspended on breaths


By Robb A. Kopp...

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The years have drug on
since you died.
I wish I could still remember
the sounds of your voice,
the memories of that died years ago.
You're "fill in" came into my life
seven years before your abrupt exit.
I'm thankful he's stayed.
I still ask myself why though...
Why you couldn't find the...

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He sits there patiently waiting
always apologizing 
but never showing 
the true feelings he is hiding
he acts like he is one with us 
but he couldn't be further away
every day we say hello how are you
but never giving a true answer
we grow into a routine
school work...

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Every morning is the same,
Standing staring at my frame,
Looks no different from last night,
Flab is still winning the fight,

Scales hate me, sure they lie,
I only ate a small stir-fry,
Willpower waning every day,
Diet falls into disarray,

The healthier I make my meals,
The emptier my tummy feels,
Salad and...

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Her figure of speech like an hour glass                                     ...

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1...

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He glides 
his skates swishing 
in a flurry of ice, 
caressing with slow movements; mere 
foreplay. 

Silence 
compels the crowd 
disguises excitement
Great expectations fill the air.
All watch. 

He stops 
at center ring. 
Ice gladiator all set 
to make a kill gently, with grace. 
Grandly. 

Then...

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One day
Good day

Young girl
Sweet girl

Who dream
Not scream

To be 
And see

Herself
Not shelf

Fulfilled
Not chilled

Tumble
Not fall

Jump high
Aim high

Gyrate
And skate

To learn
Not spurn

Toe loop
Not hoop

Flip jump
Loop jump

To flip
And skip

Upright
Spin right

Then edge
Not wedge

Half turn
Not burn

Biellmann
Spin wan

Lutz jump
Not hump

Lay back
Not sack

Spiral
Tidal

Axel
So well

Twizzle
Dazzle

Camel
Not swell

Salchow
And show

Quick toes
Strong toes

Brave heart
One heart

Skating
Swirling

With pride
Not hide

A dream 
That...

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Abstraction is an old story with the philosophers, but it has been like a new toy in the hands of the artists of our day. Why can't we have any one quality of poetry we choose by itself? We can have in thought. Then it...

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Only the cold crunching
of the fresh snow bunching,
and the tired leather boots
as I take that first step

Can be heard right here
by no other frozen ear,
for away I rushed off
to find silence instead

And all that is harsh
exists not on this marsh,
where the only prying eyes
belong to...

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His ramrod back, his brill-creamed hair 
and waxed moustache gave him a certain air, 
a certain dash, and a military bearing. 
His speech was clipped. He walked his stick 
with sergeant major's flick.
His corduroys  were always neatly creased 
and Liberty cravat was tucked and...

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Are cucumbers cool
As a general rule?
How fresh is a daisy?
Are loons always crazy?

How snug is a bug
When he’s not in a rug?
How gentle are lambs
If not happy as clams?

How clever’s a fox
That’s as dumb as an ox?
How fit is a fiddle
Not clean as a whistle?

Are...

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