"vicki" poems
A Year ago, in the same date
As A Stranger I entered this beautiful Garden Hp
A Beautiful flower (Elsa) drags me with her pure heart
Wise words (from wolf, Sir Poet,Jack, etc.) kept me to know the life’s secret
Sweet buds (Smiriti, Aarvie,) enjoys me with their great writes
Love Birds (Brandon &jane;) echoes me their beautiful rhythms
My Beautiful Bros (ryn, Joe, pradip,spt, Mufiq) supports me and admires with their strong writes
My Sweet sisters (Donna, pax, nimah, Vicki) fills my heart with their pure poems
All my new friends (Eddie, patty, gray l, tropica, wepping willow, Mysterious , Jimmy, its gona make sense, packin heat ,Poetry journal,Dark n beautiful, Wilson, Rose, James, Margaux, Asim, etc) gave me beautiful space and spirits..
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
When the sun goes down
we need a light
so we burn our bridges down
And holding each other tight in fright
We know we cannot go back
because all our bridges are down
. . . . the sun has gone down
but a full moon of love is rising
we will see our way forward
I won't look back if you won't
there is no turning back
are you with me ?
The bridge burning away to yesterday
too hot to hang onto . . . ouch !
Let it go for today
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 5:39 PM UTC
After the rain, I see the daisies,
In their clean, white dresses,
Fresh and perfect.
Washed and bright,
Their faces lifted to the skies,
And open to the sun.
Is it their youth that makes them so fearless,
Despite their diminutive size?
A naivety of spirit or
Lack of worldly knowledge?
Or do their fleeting, precarious lives
Lead them to so embrace the now?
No, their beauty springs from a truth far older,
For they are neither flashy nor flamboyant.
A daisy knows no subterfuge,
Has no jealousies, no conceit.
Its wisdom lies deeper,
And it bends with the wind.
To value the time that we have,
To see beauty in the smallest places,
And to love without fear,
Is a talent easily lost,
And the line between happy and sad is drawn
With a thin pencil and a light touch.
In miniature perfection,
A daisy lives fully,
Its face in the sunlight.
It lives, and that is enough.
Vicki Watson © 2014
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 5:40 AM UTC
Reading the works by Sally, Vicki, Catherine(SoulSurvivor), Ryn, Deborah, Elizabeth, and Pamela Rae, is akin to drinking champagne from a crystal flute. Me, cheap beer from a Mason Jar.
copyright:(revised) June 03, 2015
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
Thoughts of you
swirl in my mind,
and remain stagnant in my heart.
Oh, how they haunt me so.
There are so many words
left unsaid by me;
words that may
never reach your ears.
These words would bring
to me much needed solace.
Simply said, they would dissipate
the shadow that
follows me everywhere;
this same dark shadow that makes me
question every step I have made,
and every step I am about to make.
My words left unsaid
will remain as such,
as time is needed
to heal the loss I now feel,
before I can face you and say,
word by word, what I feel -
what I will always feel.
“I love you, I miss you,
and I need you.
I want you in my life.
I am sorry for my indiscretions.”
When these words
have finally been said,
I hope, we both find comfort
in knowing that as your friend,
I will always be there,
wishing you well and
hoping that life fulfills you.
Vicki A. Zinn
2008
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 6:11 PM UTC
for vicki who loves this poem for the best reason ever: just does...
<•>
read a thousand love stories,
pause, rest awhile,
read ten thousand more,
and then deny equality.
If you ask for no more than you can give,
you ask for not enough
love is imbalance not an equation,
with a single solution
love has both constants and variable factors
so you write of tribulations and tributes
so you write of lamentations and liftings
you think you are on the same page
perhaps
but do we not all read at different paces?
one of you is solid, one is dotted and dashed
one of you is straight, one is bent, forever curving
when you think you are
in balance
in the same place
in syncopation
perhaps you are for a moment
a calculus of one point on a trajectory
and you say I can only ask for what I give
and am given
and no more,
you have miscalculated
this flux
flummoxed
when the old terrain is flayed flat
but thru the windshield you see the
plateau ends, the geography unknown,
when you see unknown
when you seek the unknown
when you give from places you did not know
you had to give from
when you kiss a hand
for twenty minutes more than than the one minute you intended
when you give more than is asked
when you ask for more than you can you think you can give
the imbalance that is the only concert
the imbalance that is the the only constant
how do I know this?
what are my credentials?
you are not a teenage girl,
what matters of what you know, recall of these matters?
I am who I am
a diversity of man and manner;
I am past prime and in decline
but this I know
for having failed ten thousand poem times
you must ask for more than one can give
but that's not fair!
silly one, still wretched confused,
even after one hundred thousand poem times
you must ask of
yourself
more than you can give
and ask no less
demand no less
a body in emotion is not a body in rest
when the imbalance is too great or insufficient
then you write a poem
look in the mirror that cannot lie
and move
on
or
move off
begin to ask
yourself
to whom may I give myself
more than is asked.
then you have finally asked
the correct solution to the
unsolvable equation
---
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
A Softer Way to Die
We live and study life
We pray that somehow
God changes his rules.
No one wants to die
No one wants to follow
Those complicated laws;
I mean no lie-ing - no steal-ing
no *** - before marriage no
Fornicate-ing, no kill-ing
No lust-greed or defil-ing the earth.
Amen.
All we can do now is try to find
" A softer way to die".
Pick your battles...
There are many ways to die.
I asked, God why?
When mom threw a
"Monkey wrench" in my world
Answering - "We all have to die"
I immediately winked at God...
Thinking to myself ( not I) .
Gave him a little nudge;
Sidebar God : I said to God
Adamantly "I do not want to die"
"Can you change the rules "?
I never heard back from him
On that subject..
I went to him again
God "Can you at least
Keep me with a mom-
I said "So that I won't be an
Orphan like Shirley Temple" ?
He did get back to me on that
And Mom is Alive and well
Plan A. ( living forever)
Still not executed.
Once again contemplating
Thoughts on how I want to die.
I could not think of a pleasant way
To die, none that seemed appealing.
Nor any options that would be fun.
hmmm, eat myself to death.
Playing chicken with the train,
Might prove thrilling.
As time grew nigh
My thoughts continued
....On a softer way to die.
Childhood gone, middle age gone'
Old age approaching fast and furious
Destroying me like a sudden
Approaching hurricane...
This storm knocked out my lights
Memory gone now..
Forgetting my life- my loved ones
Forgetting my friends,
Children,and foes alike
Forgetting my wrongs - my sins
and accomplishments all.
Everything's gone. So now
What do I do ?... How can
I rewrite my life,Take account..
Of that which I remember not.
The realities of my existence
Has been wiped out from
The Forest Fires burning
In my minds eye.
Have no recordings of
Who loved me or of who
I shall never forgive.
How will I know that I ever even lived.
Taking my dark blank pages into
The after life- My shadowy
Existence ends. I feel no pain
I Have no thoughts,
Have nothing to contemplate.
For I have asked to live forever
Or that I die a,softer way
Forgetting to eat
Forgetting to drink-
Forgetting to swallow
Forgetting to breath...
Forgetting this life-
I close my eyes and fade away.
painlessly
© Vicki Acquah
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC
Tomorrow the baseball Hall of Fame will announce the newest members selected to join her hallowed hall. Ken Griffey Jr. will surely be selected.
I wish Hello Poetry had a Hall Of Fame. There are so many poets and good friends worthy of.
In absence of, I wish to nominate the following poets for the first class when and if it is ever created. My criteria for selection to this Hello Poetry Hall of Fame are:
A feeling heart
loves poetry
is a friend to others in the community
A Triple Crown.
Time and space are the only reason I have not listed all poets here at Hello Poetry:
Vicki (My Queen, a love child of Whitman and Dickinson)
Christi Michaels MoonFlower
mark cleavenger
Musfiq us shaleheen
brandon cory nagley
The Masked Pimpernel
rebecca askew
Sjr1000
Pradip Chattopadhyay
elsa angelica
Eddie Starr Poetry
ryn
Weeping willow
KetomaRose
Steven Langhorst
Mike Essig
Willard Wells
Woody
Elizabeth Squires
SoulSurvivor
Pax
Grace
Dave Kavanagh
Sumina Thapaliya
FJ Davis
SE Reimer
Sally A Bayan
solEmn oaSis
Melissa S
Arcassin B
..... and to those I failed to mention I apologize. I am thinking of you, also, but time and space are the only limitations to my list of nominees.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
In my "Thought for the Day XLIII" (43), I spoke of poets that have been with me, and supported me for quite some time. Sally and Pradip have been with me since my first posting, "1894", nearly two years ago, and I have "adopted" Vicki, Catherine, Ryn, Deborah, Pamela Rae,and others along the way. There is Quinn, Phil, Pradip, Francie, Frankie J, Mike, John, Nat, SE Reimer, Sverre, "The 'Ole Storyteller!" and,"Larry, Moe, and Curly Joe!"
Unfortunately, I cannot list everyone, in fear of overlooking writers who, collectively, mean so much to me. Please forgive me for that.
I will continue to "do my best" for all of the poets/writers/contributors to the HP site. I do not write for monetary remuneration, but for relaxation and recreation, with the end result, hopefully, bringing a smile to my peers. I thank all of you for allowing me to attempt, and occasionally, reach that goal.
Sincerely
Richard Riddle- June 03, 2015
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
HelloPoetry Blessed us all , no matter where we live.
I am truly Blessed by each and everyone alike here.
There are so many here on this here site that I am thankful for.
Sally Bayan, Mike Hauser, Iamdaisie, Olivia Kent, Wendy Ronshausen,Brandon Nagley, Earl Jane, Rachel Sia Jane Lloyd, Lydia Monet,Neil Aranda, Mark Cleavenger, Ann Marie Johnson, Melanie Wilson-Herring, Mike Essig, **** Paz Its Gonna Make Sense.
PrttyBrd, Vicki Bashor, Kripi Mehra, Willyam Pax, Poetess Bhumi, Kelly Rose.
Elizabeth Burnettge, Toni Pugh, Paul Champman, David Lewis Paget.
Ryn, Sean Scibbles, Aurelia, Kim Johanna Baker,Yasaman Johari.
Lady RF,Crazy Diamond Kristy, Weeping Willow, Alyssa Underwood.
MydstopiA,adhi das, South by southwest, Petal, soulsurvivor.
reformdancerecover,Ashly Kocher, Mack, Travler, Randolph Wilson.
Plus many more whom are very special indeed whom did not make this poem love you all in Christ.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
i
This is for thou both miss Vicki, and miss Beth Stclair, true poet's
Miss Beth StClair, thy sonnet style, brings back the old smile I see;
Miss Vicki, writing of love so quickly, so beautifully inspiring
Miss beth, thy word's got me flying I'll buyeth thy book real soon.
ii
Miss Vicki, thou art an old soul made of gold, a home amongst homes, as thou liveth in mine state, miss beth, I'd seeith thee if I go to England, amongst the Beatle street's we'll speaketh of ourn living's, and reciteth sonnet's of Shakespearian knowledge.
iii
Miss Vicki, thy jargon is wrapped like a bouquet, glazed with honey, thine words art displayed, people in this world like Thee I do prayeth, that thine life wilt be joyful, and harmonious in thy tommorrow, beth, I feeleth thine wild's, as the sixties thou hadst.
iv
Beth StClair, if it was back in the day, we'd be wonderful friend's, thou wouldst hath watched me on a stage, singing poetic thunder, miss Vicki, when thou feeleth down and under, continue to write thy creator in thy works, and I promise thou both, thou both hath
A friend in me......
©Brandon nagley
©Miss Vicki/miss Beth StClair dedication for both of you (:::::
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 4:02 PM UTC
I want to thank Vicki, Poetry Journal, Paul Butter, Adhi das, Mia, FJ Davis .
Anu, Sukeeti, Paul Gaffney,NvrMd, Pradip, It gonna make sense, Marian.
Timothy,Jasmine,Georgia,Janiloms,Iluvia,Nameless wonder,Firefly, Bianca.Mike Hauser , Mohamed ,Falen Acon,MydystopiA, Vanessa Gatley, and Nicole.
Plus so many more whom poems are so beautiful, they touch us all.
I just want to let you all know on here that you are truly appreciated.
For all of your beautiful words , feelings that went into your poems.
I just wanted to say thank you to each and everyone of you all here.
God bless each of you today and every single day that you live here.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
The broken glass lies on the floor
in front of me.
It has shattered into many pieces,
just as my spirit has done so
many times before.
I have struggled for a long time
to find my place in this world,
but, one thing I have never questioned,
is my identity.
Beneath the surface,
God has bestowed upon me the
greatest beauty of all – my heart.
Not in its physical form,
but, in its spiritual one,
is what defines my identity.
Simply known as character,
it is how one is seen
leading their life,
each and every day.
With pride, my identity
can shine onto others,
as an example of how
a heart can be so loving,
so caring, so understanding,
so compassionate, so kind.
All of these traits are
what comprise my identity.
Forever, I will personify these traits,
like one who proudly wears
a badge of courage;
a badge to show that
I have weathered the
toughest of battles,
and have come out
stronger than ever .
Along the way,
with each challenge presented,
not once has my identity faltered.
As I pick up the pieces
of the broken glass,
I place them all together
on the surface in front of me.
The cracked glass outline
reminds me of my many failures;
however, I look past the
fissures that are apparent on the surface,
and see my identity staring back at me.
It is complete, and reflective,
not fragmented and dull.
Even though certain facets
of my life remain unclear to me now,
my identity is something
that I am most certain of.
With pride, I carry it with
me every day; with honor,
I display it courageously.
Vicki A. Zinn
March 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
I have shut myself inside this box.
Sealed it well, from the inside,
And filled the cracks.
I fashioned it myself,
Based it on a model I devised long ago.
I remembered the dimensions intimately.
And inside I am safe.
Inside, I can hardly be seen.
The art of invisibility is slowly and carefully learnt.
Copyright Vicki Watson 2013
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
This house was washed away weeks ago.
Freak storm or tidal wave or something;
One of those natural disasters.
I was sleeping, so I didn’t notice.
Look out of the window and you’ll see I’m right.
We’re mid-Atlantic now perhaps,
Not beyond help, yet too far to be seen,
The visible invisible.
I’ve gotten to love these waves,
The lap, lapping sway and the cabin headache,
The bluster of wind and spume, flung against cold glass
Like snow from a gun.
It floats, obviously, this house,
And the watermark is lower than the letterbox,
So everything’s fine, just fine,
And there’s not the slightest chance of drowning.
‘Solid construction, energy efficient, built to last’ –
Those builders knew their stuff inside out,
And I have enough supplies to last until tomorrow,
Which is all that matters, isn’t it?
Do you fancy a cuppa? I’ll put the kettle on.
I’ve thought of everything, you see.
It’s just as well I turned the house inside out
Before the weather changed.
Vicki Watson © 2014
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
The Melody Of Love
Love plays different melodies..
Music to which lovers respond..
Instrumental, is the harp,
the flute, and the drum.
Listen with your ears, for
your heart may skip a beat
.
Listen with your eyes,eyes will
always see.
Hear with your whole being,
the melody of love.
The Drum will beat out
warnings..
As the harp beckons
to you,.."come"!!
The flute will calm a
distressed soul...
But only the melody of unity
can strike that blessed chord.
Unity and passion can
fulfill the empty soul.
While the melody of love
unheard, is sad.
Opened ears will make songs glad....
When we move our feet together,
our hearts will dance in unison
If we hear love’s melody
with unguarded hearts -
To the love we shall sub-come.
We contemplate the music
of loves sweet refrain.
Together we make music
of melodious adoration,
As our creator's love
has no limitations.
You whistle the same
bars and measures.
As I lay and calmly hum.
We be tuned as one-
We become
as a symphony,
to which our
heartstrings strum.
Copyright © 2015 Vicki Acquah
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
Sparks jettisoning into the crisp blackness,
A vivid orange against the backdrop of ebony silence,
Fairies of fire, winging their way home
On an unexpected breeze.
The bonfire a crackle, at once dangerous and comforting,
A furnace ablaze with light, livid and burning with raw energy,
Luring its annual admirers ever closer,
As moths to a flame.
The people, hatted and be-scarved, huddle, cluster,
Sparklers whirling before them, glitzy with extravagance,
Their wispy signatures hanging in the air, short-lived
And fading, fading into nothing.
And only now the fantasia of fireworks commences,
The artist experimenting with line, with colour, his audience captive,
And then at once, a dazzling fountain of jewelled light: ruby, jade, opal, sapphire,
A painting of shimmering castles in the sky.
And a middle-aged man with his son, glove to mitten; in his arms, a daughter,
Her bright gaze betraying the hands over her ears,
A snapshot of dizzy delight, breathless and enchanting,
A simple picture of rare beauty.
Later, with the remnants and debris of the evening lying discarded,
Dying, the brave bonfire, now petered out, sizzles and smoulders,
A scarlet and amber glow lingering on,
Still warm with the memories of youth.
Copyright Vicki Watson 2012
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 6:03 PM UTC
As I sit here with my toes
buried in the sand,
I stare out at the vast ocean
that lies before me.
The reflection I see is
one of the person I now am.
The reflection that gazes back at me
is one whose eyes are filled
with emptiness and sorrow.
A reflection lacking
any sign of joy or happiness,
for the once present smile
has been erased like
chalk on a chalkboard,
replaced with a frown, instead.
This reflection seems as dark
as the water in the distance.
But, with the approaching sunset,
the rays of the sun
shine a different light,
making the water appear golden,
sparkling as if given a new life.
In this, I see a new reflection,
a second chance,
a real purpose and
meaning in this world.
It reminds me of how
precious life truly is -
to never take life for granted,
to never give up hope.
As the water before
me grows quieter,
with the setting of the sun,
my fears also diminish.
I recognize that the reflection,
now staring back at me,
is the person that
I need to become.
This reflection is my future
as it is meant,
and destined, to be.
Vicki A. Zinn
2009
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
You have fallen once again.
Little do you know, nor realize,
that when you reach out your hands
to find support to lift yourself back up,
it is actually my hands
pulling you to your feet.
I exist mainly in your thoughts.
Someone who has touched your life,
with my kind words and gestures.
I have laughed with you;
I have cried with you.
I am the one whom you have shared
your life with - your thoughts,
your hopes, your dreams, your desires.
I have been there with you,
through your most joyful times,
as well as, your darkest.
Most refer to me as a true friend.
Those who really know, call me an Earth Angel -
a guardian sent from Heaven,
with a soul as gentle as the breeze,
which dances through your hair.
One who places you in high regard,
and cherishes you deeply.
An Angel who thinks of you often,
cares for you, worries about you.
One who will never forget you.
Forever know this Angel is
closely watching over you.
My eternal presence surrounds you,
always waiting for the time
I am needed the most.
Trust that I will never
fail you, as my place is by your side.
Find solace in my words and actions,
as they guide you on whatever
path you choose to follow.
I am there with you, always….
Vicki A. Zinn
2012
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Disgusted, and saddened
Vicki’s poetry (and kindness) is an absolute inspiration
She was one of the first (along with Mary, Pradip and WK) to take the time to read and comment on my mediocre work...a jolt every aspiring poet needs
If you are listening Vicki...God bless you
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
Make love to me with
your poem ,your poetry.
Flow slowly-do not rush it.
not so fast.
Let your words last.
Stroke me slowly
Put your back into it.
Caress my totality
Draw me into your world
let me succumb -to your glib tongue
I hear your commands
As you slowly express
how capable you are
Expanding my mind
taking me places I've never been
Firmly holding me in the grips
of your suspense.
I was tense
Waiting for the end - you letting me
down gently as your poem ended
I bask in the after math-of a poetry bath
Thinking of the ecstasy of
where your poetry took me.
I let down my hair-because
you swoon creativity
I get off on your enunciation
and affections- inflections
Word erections-sensitivity
and vulnerability
Allowing me to feel every word-
as you speak slowly
you enter me with your "diction".
Slow and easy you speak to me
Stroking me with your poetry...
You took me to peaks
of ecstasy-with your
sweet glib tongue
and that's why I -
let you make ...
Make sweet Poetry to me..
.© Vicki Acquah
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
I miss Vicki
Poetess sublime
Nature is her nurse
She wrote her essence every time
I don’t know why she left
Like Aretha, made me cry
Whatever drove her off
I just want to say good-bye
Her comments-wise, encouraging
With love she shared her best
You’re sorely missed, Dear Vicki
Farewell Dear Poetess
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC
It is believed that someone
enters your life
for a reason, a season,
or a lifetime.
You came into mine
for a reason -
a reason to show me
that life does move on,
even after all of the pain,
and disappointment,
has now brought me
to my lowest point.
Your presence lifted my spirit;
it gave me a reason
to believe in myself,
to believe in you,
to believe in us.
You gave me a reason
to smile again;
a reason to hope
that, finally, the void
I was feeling was now filled.
All of this you
brought to me
in such a very short
period of time.
Now that you're gone,
I want to thank you
for the biggest reason of all;
you helped to relight
a fire, from mere ashes,
that had burnt
out some time ago.
For this reason alone,
I will always be grateful.
Vicki A. Zinn
2008
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 7:04 PM UTC
I made kodiak cakes this morning
On this beautiful Sunday morning
After I listened to the Gregorian chant of
The Benedictine Monks
Of Santo Domingo de Silos in Spain
Please enjoy some of my kodiak cakes Vicki
They are wholesome just like you
Yummm let's eat them together
Also there are some sliced apples
With a bit of Laura Scudders peanut butter too
These Kodiak cakes warm my heart
Just as your poems do
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
I have been told that I am
An Earth Angel sent by God
To shelter those that needed
The most protection.
But, what happens when this
Earth Angel has herself fallen?
Who will be there to bandage
Her delicate wing that has
Now been broken?
The question is why this
So lovely Earth Angel has fallen?
Has she carried one too many
Burdens on her shoulders?
Has she lost sight of her own
Purpose, along the way,
That it has made her blind to
The true perils that lie
Right in front of her?
I am crying out for help
As my once and so powerful
Wing has broken under all of the
Stress of this powerful weight.
Why has this happened to me?
Did I lose faith that the people
I was sent to safe guard actually
Cared about my purpose anymore?
Or, did I just stop believing that I, myself,
Could help them anymore?
I have walked so many years of my
Own life being this angel, while forgetting
That sometimes I also need an Earth Angel
To help me find my way sometimes.
I am sure that is hard to believe that
Earth Angels can be so fragile?
Remember, these Angels are humans
With emotions and are not infallible.
Choose your words and actions wisely,
Because your perils become theirs.
Can you imagine having the continuous
Strength to be one of these Angels?
I bet not. But, understand that this
Is what I feel my destiny has always been.
So, now, I need some time to heal my
Own broken wing.
I certainly cannot fly with just one.
I pray that God will miraculously heal
My own broken wing so that I may soon
Get back to what I am needed to do –
To provide support and encouragement
To you so that you will make it past
Whatever encumbers you mind, your heart,
And, most importantly, your soul.
Vicki A Zinn
August 3rd, 2015
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC