H O M E
2023 Poetry Contest
The Poetry Community
S H O P
Realistic Printing & Publishing
NAME WITH NO FAME
"Le nom sans renommée"
Neither my name …. prefix to fame
Nor do my last name…. sparks into flame
All do what I crown, owe to myself
Is this you should own, to be yourself!
Much have appeared to the world
None have appreciated into word
Folks try to hide an era of reality
And jokes ride over the mentality!
What a shame to remain in big bliss?
By those who starve until night…. miss
Could have bit dig out some gold…. money
For have got the joy of being bold honey!
Might not have won any great game
Or taste the best victory in thou name
All do what I have, collected from pray
For that's how I, cling to make my day!
Nor do my last name sparks to flame
Could've been in vain, if not shared the pain
And must hold the torch until the last rain!!
By Priyanka Raj
Twitter : @mahipriyankaraj @Realistic Poetry #BluesPoetry #SocialBlues
From a land is called Africa.
Land of old, gold, and dreams.
Dreams of nice future.
And of course that what we all want indeed .
With a straight direct look.
I search for a chance to catch me, and hook.
As I'm always right, for goodness I never broke.
Waiting is a lesson I'm getting.
And the land of fact I'm not gonna cutting.
In waiting there's a patience.
Leads you to more creation.
Makes you also try to learn from different nations.
In waiting there's a hope ,and fear.
Glory to hope , and the fear you should defeat.
Even if your dream doesn't come true.
Glad to had a life full of passion is pure.
In trying there's no lose.
Here or there what you pray for is yours.
You will gain it no doubt.
But you don't know the place of the meeting here or in the heaven's cloud.
Rest your heart he heard, and accepted.
Leave the date to who owns the certain time. One day everything will be detected.
What she sees we cannot know.
Every face is a dialect we interpret
With guesses, insight and a little bit of need.
We can't even visualize the scale:
If she sees a man I would call fat
Does she agree with that?
If she sees tears
Are they of sorrow or of joy?
Perhaps she sees something that annoys.
We will often fail
To read the faces that pass us by.
There is hope for us at least
As long as we strive to try.
and fraudulent smile
inner darkness personified
a square inch stretched taut
throughout the course of a mile
skin deceptively smooth
she is Methuselah
tucked between the Playbook pages
a history of underhanded maneuvers
The goal reflected in our eyes,
An echo of the fire burning deep inside.
No obstacle will serve to block the path,
At best, it can only hope to sidetrack.
Too precious is the reward we'll find,
Once we cross that blessed finish line.
quiet confidence exudes
radiance within silence
grace blooms every pore
sight casting similar etudes
finding an alliance
Father provides an encore