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Dance Of the Social Vampires by Bdosa, Vee
Autumn Dream by Bdosa, Vee
Giant Animals - The Elephant by Haight, Sandra
A White Mississippian Remembers the Summer of '64 by Canerdy, Janice
I Am A Lioness by W-F, Theresa M. Hummingbird
The Poet's Invitation by Manassian, Eileen
Rog the Funambulist by Deane, Gregory
Press the Button by Manassian, Eileen
Misconceptions - for Hexsonnetta contest by Lindsay, Bill
Nothing Sweet About Goodbyes by Nance, Casarah

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The Best Iambic Pentameter Poems

Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Ancient Warrior

I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow,
You carried burdens then; you see them now.
You’ve heard the cries your people who in pain,
Have shed their tears two hundred years like rain. 

Your sad brown eyes, reflecting now the sky
I see the wings of eagles flying by
Beside you stands an Appaloosa mare
Her spirit one with you now over there.

You hear the drums, they bid you to come near,
Your spirit drawn the beats they ring so clear.
Song like prayers are chanted through the night,
Calling you come, and help them end their plight.  

You’ve heard sad cries and now stand at their side,
You join the prayers with both arms open wide,
United spirits sing until the dawn,
When in the fire’s flames a golden fawn.

Remembering a smile crosses your face,
When tribes were one with Mother Nature’s grace.
The lakes and streams flowing with waters clear,
Flow sadly now, the planet lives in fear.

The weightless feathers that adorn your head
Your tribes grey future weighed you down instead.
Now breathing deep you smell the winds of change
While here on earth your people rearrange.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.21.2014
Giorgio A.V. Contest 
Iambic Pentameter 
1st place

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans

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Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

The Old House

Seven generations walked through your door,
Which stood so strong and always welcomed in.
You said goodbye when boys headed to war,
Two soldiers lost to battles they can’t win.

Your kitchen always busy as a bee,
With canning, baking apple crumble cake.
Stone hearth, a place for warmth and drink some tea,
The table decked with riches to partake.

The living room a place to sit and chat,
With pictures hanging for one hundred years.
A chair still there where ancestors once sat,
This room for laughter and at times for tears.

Your nursery where many babies grew,
With bassinet where ev’ry child did lie.
The paint would change at times from pink to blue,
A place where time would always quickly fly.

The floors within have felt each child’s first walk,
Their worn out wood drowned many times with stain.
You watched the aging people gently rock,
You’ve heard and felt the tapping of a cane.

I stand and listen in your sacred halls
And feel that you’re a part of everyone.
Each breath we took embedded in your walls,
Of fathers, mothers, daughters and of sons.

Old house of stone your warmth embraces me,
Your children now all scattered far and wide.
You still stand proud for all the world to see,
The thoughts of you, sweet memories inside.

The house my children grew up in.

Iambic Pentameter  
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.02.2014
Giorgio’s Contest: Iambic Verse III
2nd
Best of 2014  1st place

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

To the Scoffers of Sensual Writes

To those who think that poetry must be
of lofty things, not sensuality
To those who write of stars and sun and moon
and who to romance will not ever swoon

To those who write of angst and misery
of all that has gone wrong in history
To those who think I write frivolity
and read not what I write: an oddity!

I write to you, and all my thought's I'll bare
and see if you can argue if you dare
If you’ve forgotten passion's blazing fire
Or how consumed your heart was with desire

If you’ve forgotten romance in the night
Or making love in early morning light
If you’re denied the thrill of ecstasy
And can’t bear witness to its urgency

If you have come of age when health concerns
are all of life that now your mind discerns
I tell you dear, the fault is yours not mine
Devoid of love life meets not plan divine

The gift of love is granted from on high
You can’t deny that even if you try
the pleasure’s woven in anatomy
He formed and blessed our sensuality

To reproduce was in his own design
But also to enjoy the act sublime
There is a little bud that’s meant to thrill
It’s only use is pleasure to fulfill

So tell me, what is life if not for this
To show commitment with the sweetest kiss
In right communion to be drenched in love
And in its throes to glide to heights above

My fellow poet, write of lofty things
And all the finer thoughts that wisdom brings
I pity you for love and passion’s reign
Has banished you from glory with disdain

All nature and all life with love is mixed
And so my mind with passion is transfixed
It’s love that makes this world go round and round
Without it, best be buried underground.

Eileen Manassian



Copyright © Eileen Manassian


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

The Elves Snow Party


Away up north where it’s snowing they say
the elves are preparing for Christmas day.
Big elves little elves, busier than bees
All building toys, for under Christmas trees.

Some work with hammers others building bikes,
some riding through the room on brand new trikes.
Tiny elf voices ringing loud and clear,
everyone’s full of love and Christmas cheer.

Suddenly the chatter stops; all are still,
Santa walked in the room with book and quill.
Looking down at his book, Santa Clause stared,
then lifted his eyebrows as he declared,

Today I looked inside my books
and I found that we are ahead,
and thought because you worked so hard 
we shall all go outside instead.
Misses Claus made lots of sweet treats
so let’s all eat and be hearty,
for today here at the North Pole
all elves shall have a snow party.

Quick as a wink the elves they disappeared,
Santa just smiled as he tugged at his beard.
Laughing he watched his little friends scatter
and soon the mountains echoed with laughter.

Snowballs were flying, snowmen taking form,
and hot chocolate kept little elves warm.
They were sledding, skiing, skating all day,
see, elves aren’t simply, all work and no play.



Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.29.2014
Contest: Children’s Christmas or Holiday Tale
1st place

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Broken Wings

As the sun arose in the eastern skies 
a fairy princess sits rubbing her eyes.
Yawning she glimpses her magical isle 
and her tiny lips, curl into a smile.

Standing she stretches in her treetop bed,
anxious anticipates what lies ahead.
She flutters her wings to get them ready,
raising one knee, she jumps slow and steady.

Hovering like, a hummingbird she glides
then races off with both arms at her sides.
With lots to see her day has just begun,
she never stops until the setting sun.

Racing through the forest over fields of wheat
smelling the flowers, is her daily treat.
Talks to the butterflies this sunny morn,
tests the fresh honey and tastes some sweet corn.

Spotting a pond sparkling like a mirror 
zooms back and forth each time getting nearer,
watching her reflection, no time to think
crashed in a deer who had just stopped to drink.

Later discovers she’s broken her wings,
Lies in bed knowing what carelessness brings.
Six months of bed rest was taking their toll,
this fairy princess was losing her soul.

Finally the day came to test her wings
her will is determined her heart now sings,
shouts out with joy as she reaches the sky,
nothing feels greater, than when you can fly.

Iambic Pentameter 
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
01.14.2015
Contest: Sketch a Fictitious Character II

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans

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Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Forgotten Soul

Forgotten Soul I turn my head, and there she is once more In her disheveled, worn and tattered dress, One pew behind me near the exit door She sits head bowed…an image of distress. Two weeks now on a Sunday she is there… The same pew in the church, the same old clothes. She shows forlornness that makes me aware Her life is sadly filled with countless woes. This time she lifts her head and looks at me, As tears swell in her eyes and down her cheek. My heart is broken by the hurt I see Within her wanting eyes so dark and meek. I gaze into her face and see her fears Yet, slightest twinkle in her sullen eyes… With tiny smile, she wipes her falling tears Away, but still I hear the painful cries That echo from her heart so silently Of weakened body, anguished mind and soul… I wonder what in life could possibly Have caused her to now suffer such a toll. And I surmise that homeless she must be, But still some faith has brought her to this spot Where healing strength from God might possibly Renew her spirit when her life cannot. The mass soon ends, and I arise and turn, So now in front of her I sadly stand… She grasps my hand and says, “God Bless, you earn His blessings for a heart that understands." © Sandra M. Haight 2014 All Rights Reserved ~1st Place~ Contest: Structured Forms – Iambic Verse Sketch a Fictitious Character Sponsor: Giorgio A.V. Judged 12/16/2014

Copyright © Sandra Haight


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

My Heart and Soul Cry Justice

Love Justice made me wrest you from her bed
It’s right for you to lie with me instead
For you were mine before she came to be
A prowling threat to our felicity

My broken heart cries…JUSTICE!

It’s meant for me to ravish you tonight
To give you pain as well as sheer delight
I love you still and yet your heart must pay
For shameless way you gave my love away

My wounded pride cries...JUSTICE

And here you are inside my bed of love
I’ve bound you up, no more a gentle dove
I take revenge on body and your soul
Enslaved, you yield to dominatrix role

My passion mad cries…JUSTICE

I take from you: I take, I take, I take
Each pleasure filled, I writhe and make you quake
I kiss, caress, and taste in wanton might
Your eyes ablaze, your fervor I ignite

My vengeful soul cries…JUSTICE

And all the while I hear you gasp MY name
In ecstasy my spoils of war I claim
You beg forgiveness as you helpless lie
I satiate my needs; fulfilled I sigh

My hungry need cries…JUSTICE

This tryst was meant to teach you lover's pain
You bear the marks of love that is insane
I slash your bonds and fall in your embrace
For I have seen the wonder in your face

Relieved am I, for I have tasted JUSTICE!

For Justin Bordner’s Love Justice Contest
January 18, 2015

Copyright © Eileen Manassian


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Around the Corner

As I walk downtown I see an alley 
Where a black cat sat staring up at me,
The sound of her purring was so soothing 
Lulled and hypnotized me how could that be.

With its green eyes lightning up the darkness 
I saw a sign was hanging that said Tea,
It seemed to be just around the corner
In an alley that led down to the sea.

I walk and the black cat seems to follow 
Awareness of her presence filled the air,
In a flash we turned around the corner 
Where stood an old stone building with one stair.

I looked to find the feline now missing,
Then climbed the step and gently pushed the door,
Cobwebs hung from rafters on the ceiling,
The wind made dust balls race across the floor.

I noticed tea of all sorts lined each wall,
The smells of herbs and spices filled my nose.
Sitting in a corner sat a woman,
Glaring at me sniffing a thorny rose.

Her eyes an emerald green that sparkled 
Her hair a shiny black darker then night,
By her stood a broom with crooked handle 
My senses told me something was not right.

I turned and ran while saying I’m sorry,
It seems I’m lost forgive me and good day,
Hearing horrid screeches I am shaking
Running around the corner in late May.

Soaked with sweat I run out to the main street 
People wonder why I’m carrying on,
As I shout loud, don’t go down this alley
I turn and notice that it now is gone.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.17.2014
For Francine Roberts Contest 
Around the Corner 
2nd

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Put on Your Warrior Spirit

Don't let him sway you with his sultry rhymes
Don't let him woo and steal your heart away
Don't let him touch your soul with soulful lines
You know, my dear, he only wants to play

Don't let him tell you that you are divine
Don't let him make you think that you're unique
Don't let him say your eyes are pools sublime
You know, my dear, he wants to make you weak

He wants to break defenses and come in
To taste the hidden pleasures of your heart
He wants to take, to conquer, and to win
And leave the walls of love broken apart

There is no greater pain than wounded pride
When truth reveals betrayal's sharpened knife
Revenge will be the thorn there in your side
For he has taken love, and dreams and life

So do not let him win in lover's game
Pick up your sword and gird yourself to fight
If you succumb, you will not be the same
I urge you then to vanquish with your might

Then still your heart and let it dormant lie
Let not your eyes take in the beauty there
He will not stop; he will most surely try
To ravish you and leave you naked, bare

So fight, dear one; your heart is on the line
Don't let your guard now slip; be strong and brave
Heed what I say and know you're spirit's fine
To win this fight, your soul and heart to save

Eileen

Copyright © Eileen Manassian


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Paid Performance

A beat of drums, a song of solitude.
A deep and timid red, so softly hued.
Majestic beauty, truth is deep like night.
I come to play, if playing Queen is right.
A love is tempting, lust is just a game.
I steal a kiss as fears do turn from shame.
A sigh, a tie, I twist in pleasures sting.
I close my eyes, it's worth remembering.
A song of sex, a dance, I need to hear.
The sound of rushing, breathing, near my ear.
I tie a rope around a willing wrist.
A tie so red it makes the roses twist.
A puppet, pawn, my game is chess, I win.
A check, my mate, be ready to begin.
I feast on pain and pleasure, giving more.
Enjoy the time behind the dark red door.


08-05-2014
Casarah Nance

Copyright © Casarah Nance


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Why So Afraid

Oh, why must you of love be so afraid?
To hide behind the wall of broken dream
For once your love was callously betrayed
And now you will not bathe in passion’s stream

I wait for time with truth to curse that lie
That faithfulness illusive must remain
You think, unloved, that LOVE to you must die
And so you close your heart and nurse the pain

Lie silent, love, and let me soothe your soul
You’re battle weary, made to feel like steel
Succumb to me and give to me control
My soothing touch is able hurt to heal

Unchanging is my love, a fervent fire
Condition it knows not, nor treachery
To bless you with contentment, its desire
If you but test, you’ll know its constancy

My love for you lies dormant for a time
I wait awakening of you to me
I fear you will not feel its heat: a crime
There is so much my love was meant to be

My love for you is pillow for your head
My love for you is food for famished frame
My love for you is peace on restful bed
My love for you is lust devoid of shame

Give in to me; give in to this my plea
Let down your guard and let me taste of you
My lips have longed to kiss what eyes can see
This love that fills my heart is love that’s true

Eileen Manassian






Copyright © Eileen Manassian


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Love Gently Rocked

We sit, relaxed, at closing of the day,
you turn, a record on to softly play,
then place, fresh logs making our fire enhance,
and gently bow asking me for this dance.

The song, we’ve loved since we were very young,
so often danced with, and so often sung.
You sing, so sweetly in my longing ear,
and with, strong arms drawing me oh so near.

I place, my head upon your shoulder,
you spin, us around our humble room,
we laugh, just as when we were younger,
you stop, to kiss me; then we resume.

Such special times like this I feel my heart,
could never last if we should ever part.
Then shed, a tear by thoughts of losing you,
cause you’re, my one and only love so true.

Music stops; we stay together,
in loves embrace, we melt as one.
With fireplace, still gently burning,
our fire has only, just begun.



Per line:
Verses one two and four have ten syllables 
verse three has nine syllables 
Verse five has eight syllables 

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
12.12.2014
Contest: Rock me Rhythm Poems
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

The Woodcarvers Reward

He walked along the beach a man forlorn
Forgotten were his dreams, his heart was torn
The gentle waves spoke of the years gone by
And drew salt water down from saddened eye  

He saw some driftwood lying on the shore
It sparked his interest and he longed for more
He touched it gently, to his great delight
Sandalwood he’d found:  passion to ignite

The need to carve once more came to his mind
A joy he’d lost and could no longer find
He took it home, that battered piece of wood
With hopes to turn it into something good

A mane of hair took shape beneath his hands
Flowing waves of curly wooden strands
Round shoulders of the woman of his dreams
And breasts and waist of beauty carved supreme

Gracefully her form began to take on shape
When he was done he stood there mouth agape
She was a goddess made of his desire
A love for her consumed him like a fire

At night he wished upon a falling star
She’d come to life and chase his sorrows far
He looked at her before he fell asleep
And smiled for he’d forgotten how to weep

He felt a stirring there beside his bed
A presence seemed to hover near his head
He looked upon his statue now in flesh
Her body like a breeze was young and fresh

She pressed her lips so gently over his
“I need to tell you, love, listen to this
I was discarded, battered, wounded sore
I chose to be a part of life no more

You saw in me my hidden beauty fine
Your wish has reached the heart of the Divine
I stand before you, answer to your prayer
Sent to give you love and tend’rest care.”

She kissed his lips, and veiled him in her hair
His tears she wiped, this answer to his prayer
With him she lay, her breast his pillow sweet
The richest fare of sandalwood, his treat

What else transpires is curtained from our sight
Burning sandalwood…..scents the glowing night

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Old Wounds

Composed, my dreams embrace, then fade
with memories, quite undefined
returning nights, upon the shade
when clocks are wound, and sun reclines

When weariness is not enough
to lie alone, to sleep again,
the darkest ghosts, upon the cliffs
return as if I've begged them in

Appearing with unspoken words
to pull the quilt from tender bones
to race the heart, and pace the halls
and magnify what 's come and gone

For in the dark, a voice is clear
It calls to me, and I can hear
where loneliness has been my friend
and clearer than I could recall

I've pulled apart a scab disturbed
as if it were an angry wound
and somewhere in the distant world
a part of me has never healed

By light of day, you are gone
I'm still alive, again alone
Yet hovering within the mist
with sunlight slipping down the trees
I'll brush my hair, ignoring ghosts
to welcome sleep, becoming lost



____________________________________________________

Copyright © Carrie Richards


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

A Poem of Ruth

The tears well up, and scarce could she not moan
When father, brother, husband, all have died.
She now has no possessions, neither home,
But travels to a distant, unknown land:
Once so secure, yet now compelled to roam;
Once rich in love, she treads through foreign sands.
Her weary feet move forward but by faith;
For all left to her name is mere belief:
Mind, heart so far away she seems a wraith-
Love, happiness- all taken by a thief.

When, sometime since, her heart had broke in two,
The path of life, once single, parted way;
Forsake she could, but this she would not do-
All else was gone- with mother she would stay:
"Intreat me not to leave thee," was her plea,
"For whither thou wilt go, there will I; pray
Forbid me not to follow after thee,
For where thou lodgest I would also stay:
"Thy people shall be mine, thy God my God;
And where thou liest, I will gladly lie
Beside thee, overhead the selfsame sod;
That even then thou mightest be closeby.

"And so they twain walk on, hand clasped in hand;
Both hold the only thing they yet possess:
The younger but a stranger in the land,
An enemy, a widow in distress.

She rose before the sun to find a place
Where she might gather barley ears and wheat;
A field where she might find some needed grace
To gather for their winter store of meat:
Then Boaz comes from Bethlehem, and see,
He tarries with the reapers of the wheat:
He comes to Ruth and says, "Hear'st not thou me?
Remain until the harvest is complete:
"Go not from hence, but in my fields abide,
And let thine eyes be on the field they reap;
Behold, these maidens thou may'st work beside,
And near the reapers thou may'st ever keep."
Then to her face she fell, and wond'ringly
Asked why to her, a stranger, was so kind;
And he replied that she unfailingly
Had cleaved unto her mother with one mind,
And left her father, mother, and the soil
Of her nativity, and kissed the dust
Of some strange land wherein she meant to toil;
Forsaking gods of Moab God to trust:
"The Lord," said he, "reward thee for thy deeds,
 And recompense thy labour and thy love:
The God of Israel answer all thy needs,
And make his wings a shelter from above."
 Then said the maid, "My lord, please let me find
Some grace and favour in thy blessed sight,
For that thou hast been friendly, spoken kind,
And I am but a stranger in the night."
Then Boaz said, "At mealtime here abide;
Rest in the shade, come, sit with us and dine:
So down she sat, a reaper on each side;
She ate her wheat and dipped her bread in wine.
Then Ruth arose, and to her work she leaves:
The master thus commands his servant men,
"Let this young maid glean e'en among the sheaves;
Rebuke her not, for she shall come again;
And let some handfuls fall onto the ground,
There let them lie for my sake and for hers
That she may glean and plenty may be found;
For reasons she has need of it are pure."
And as she worked, Ruth knew not what a sight
Of beauty and of diligence she made,
As in the golden field in sunset's light
She bowed her head and knelt as if she prayed.

It came to pass that in his fields she stayed
Until the end of barley harvest came,
When mother told the lovely little maid
To seek for his provision and his name.
She washed and dripped an oil filled with sweet
Perfumes of wild roses on her face:
She had not much; her beauty was complete
With but her finest clothes to seek his grace.
Her braided hair shone brighter than the gem
That never graced her soft and shapely form;
Her eyes, they sparkled brighter than the hem
Of gold and pearls that she had never worn:
Thus Ruth went down unto the threshing floor
Where Boaz winnowed barley till the night,
And peeked at him so shyly 'round the door;
She never let him leave her searching sight.
His workday done, the master ate and drank;
With happiness his heart was full when fed:
Then by a heap of wheat he went and sank
Into the furry robes that made his bed;
And Ruth, a while watching till he sleep
Kept vigil from a stone used as a seat,
Till when his eyes had closed and sleep was deep
She lifted up the cover from his feet
And softly laid her down and dreamed of brides
Until the watchman struck a dozen beats,
And being startled, Boaz woke and spied
A woman sleeping at his very feet:
"Who art thou?" queried he in sleepy voice;
"Thine handmaid, Ruth," was her unsure reply;
Then blessed he her for wise and kindly choice,
For passing poor and rich young fellows by.
"And now, my daughter, gladly shall I do
According to thy wishes, for all here
Consider thee as virtuous and true;
Howbeit, there is one to thee more near,
A kinsman who must duly have his say:
If he decline, then rest assured I will
Perform the part of kinsman." So she lay
Down at his feet, and both were quiet, still.

In grey of early morning she arose,
Before a face could be discernéd there;
To keep from what some people might suppose
And who might stand along the road to stare:
Then Boaz said, "Bring here the vail thou hast
Upon thy head and hold it in thy hand:
Six times the barley measure filled and passed
From heap to vail as much as she could stand.
Then Boaz went up to the city gate
To find the nearer kinsman, whom he sought,
To see if he would purchase the estate
Of Ruth, and she herself, but he could not;
So Boaz purchased all the widows' land;
The houses, barns, and fields, though overgrown;
And bought what pleased him most, Ruth's comely hand
To cherish and to make his very own:
Then Boaz went to find the handmaid, Ruth
And lift her from a servant to a wife;
To love her in all tenderness and truth
In every day God blessed them both with life.



[By Isaiah Zerbst. Published 9/7/14. Parts of poem have been removed due to soup's limitations.]




Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Island of Sylt

I smile and feel the wind massage my face
Then close my eyes to smell the fresh sea air
The seagull’s wings catch wind then float with grace
A day on Sylt can wash away all care.

I love to see the changing of your tide
Then feel your mud squeeze gently through each toe
You steal my breath your rippled surface wide
Now baring gifts of sea shells as you go.

When you return your rushing waters swirl 
And take back all your precious jewels too
I watch in wonder as your wavings curl
And I’m in awe just at the sight of you

Now lying on your sand I watch each cloud
They tell me stories changing forms for me
Today the Greek Gods sat there very proud
As if they wanted all the world to see

The sun has bent down low to take a drink
Now thirsty from his journey through the sky 
He dips his head in waters turning pink
Then quickly disappearing shuts his eye 

Oh, isle of Sylt your sandy beaches fair
Invite me to return and taste your shore
The salty waters where I’ll sit and stare
Oh, isle of Sylt I’m knocking at your door 

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
09.22.2014
Contest: Iambic Verse II
Giorgio A.V.
3rd

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Sonnet Chiweenie Boo

Your dad, a Dachshund once stuck in Chihuahua.
The best of both in you, with that expectant
Confusing carpets for the lawn enigma.
I know….the raining….getting wet….you can’t.

As coldness chills the room, a sheet for you.
The perfect tucking of in, but you moved!
I ponder, just how crazy is my Boo?
The sheet’s thread count too low to be approved?

Your dance in circles, spinning on the floor.
Rewards and treasures known upon the racks.
Induced by meals and that one pantry door.   
In such a fury, choking on the snacks.

I know what God’s book says, I’ve searched it whole.
But still, I hope you have a little soul.

11.14.14

Copyright © rob carmack


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Sunbonnet


She shuffled by our house, so slow and bent,
No second thought of where the lady went.
On her return, no one around to see.
A shaded path, she blended with the trees.

We children always giggled, as she passed.
A group emboldens others to harrass.
Our high pitched jeering from a hidden niche,
The frail, sunbonnet lady, we yelled "witch".

One day a fever kept me home from class.
I saw her weary shuffle down the path.
My over-active need to know convened.
I followed with excitement and unseen.

A house engulfed by weeds grown thick and tall,
As vines of every species claimed the walls.
Around the side, a window to peek in; 
A man in bed with twisted, throbbing limbs.
.
The lady rubbed a salve to ease his pain.
And hummed a long forgotten song's refrain.

I blurted all I'd seen to mom and dad.
He stood in shocked alert and mom grew sad.

How soon the path was plowed into a drive,
A grocer truck and red-light cops arrived.
I last recall a fancy bike, brand new.
Events seem blurred, with growing up to do.
.


Gene Bourne.
07-17-14




.

Copyright © Gene Bourne


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

The Hunter's Children Cry

He walked amid the woodlands muted morn.
The scents of earth were wafting on the breeze.
For dawn had moistened yet another day.
And silence dripped beneath the autumn trees.

A rustle in dry leaves, he caught a glimpse.
His gun caressed the warmth of flannel sleeves.
The silent hunter, stalking, tiptoed near.
A golden-red meandered through the leaves.

The sun began to rise above the knoll.
It shone upon dark eyes; the gun rose high.
The pheasant flickered leaves; then, heard a crunch.
He recognized the scent; the man walked nigh.

Red feathers, brightly accented with gold,
Were ruffled as he took his fighting pose.
The cockerel next to man had no defense.
So, high above the trees the pheasant rose!

His hungry children waited back at home.
He rushed along the trail up to the crest.
The pheasant lost from view; his stomach growled.
The hunter and his gun had done their best.

At noon, the hunter rested on a log.
The water in his canteen, nearly dry,
No morsel did he eat as day grew long.
The stealthy man could hear his children’s cry.

December 1, 2014

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Structured forms - Iambic verse - Sketch a fictitious character - (Top Gun Poetry) - Poetry Contest
Sponsor	Giorgio A. V.

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Serenading the Senses- Adult Content

On whispered breeze I hear your plea to feed
Upon my form you wish to feast and dine
I smile as I inhale desire’s need
And know tonight you’ll taste of lover’s wine

I stand before you now as I undress
My fingers tease the buttons on my blouse
Your eyes must touch before your hands caress
Your lips now part from sight that does arouse

I walk to you with swaying steps so bold
My hair unleashed, it tumbles round your face
Down on your knees, your tongue seeks navel gold
And fingers reach above the curves to trace

My hands go round your neck and pull you in
I taste the lobe of ear and gently blow
the words of want and need desire to win
and whisper pleasured treats you soon will know

I feel you tremble neath my roving hands
You breath comes quick and knowing I lean in
to tie your hands to chair with silken bands
I take command of mouth and trace your chin

I tip your head and then devour your neck
Leave marks of ownership just where I please
You rage against the chords as my lips trek
the journey down below to taste and tease

You call my name in throes of ecstasy
I feel your panting breath against my hair
This night is one of wanton revelry
To satiate your needs is my affair

Before the end of this our passion race
I ride the waves of your euphoric greed
You move to rhythm that I set to pace
Until sweet time when pent up love is freed

And now unleashed, you fall into my arms
Upon my silken breast you lay your head
I lull to sleep with all my sweetest charms
As moonbeams blanket us upon our bed

Jade ;) Celeste

Copyright © Eileen Manassian


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

A Thousand Years From Now

For he who leans upon the ancient tree
In future’s shade, a thousand years from now
Will you engage a wrinkle in your brow
And ponder ore’ the death of fallen leaves?

Are we so not alike in fairness gained
Or time might choose to forge us enemy?
Would cloak, or hair, or skin, a different blend
Invite those eyes to shun away from me?

If first, those born, have greater weight to bear
Or yours, one day, the lift more heavy lot
Each step by step, we travel blind and torn
Do crossroads come the same or some are not?

Will one day find you leaning by a tree
And find a stone beneath the powdered dust
And wonder if it once belonged to me
To think it bone, or questions turned to rust?

___________________________________________
Iambic Pentameter........By Carrie Richards

Copyright © Carrie Richards


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Remember Me

words i use to fill a space 
to stir a feeling 
influence and excite 
like movements energy 
distance's footsteps make 
proven emotion stains memories past 
weakness enveloped as of night 
no voice nor sound
fluidizing  lines of power 
sheltered from familiars sight 
breaking free sparks 
arc of might  
expectations shimmer 
i will win this fight 
new hope soars surpassing 
feathered speckled clouds 
I breath I live I feel 
the words I write

Copyright © simon watkiss


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

FRIENDSHIP - A GIFT

FRIENDSHIP - A GIFT Material gifts displayed in all shops, I saw as I passed beside the windows shining gold, silver and costly fur robes. All of these, our money can surely buy. Pity, I have no means to buy such things: none of silver, gold nor costly fur robes; yet, now, I am giving a gift to you within your heart to forever uphold. Something that thieves could never ever steal or something that even rust can't decay but be valued more than the gifts I saw from all those fancy window-shops, today. . . Something that could live through the passing years Something that encompasses love and truth. This is the gift I'm giving you this day-- my lifelong enduring friendship for you.. _________________________________________________ POEM OF THE DAY: November 30, 2015 Sponsor Kelly Deschler Contest Name Women Only #2 ~~5th Place~~ ©O. E. Guillermo 2:53 pm, November 28, 2014

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

I Love You Still

The love I have is burning in me still
it breathes, it moves, and gives me still a thrill
to death defiant yet to life it speaks
your face, your lips, your touch it ever seeks

there is no time when thoughts of you are far
nor is there sky which glows without your star 
There is no rush which comes not with your face
Your trail of hungry kisses still I trace

the passion in my soul still flames for you
my tingling tremors wet like morning dew
I still can feel your lips my lips engage
Your thoughts awaken still desire's rage

Still ever still my heart is in your grasp
my soul must cling to yours in lover's clasp
to live without your love is not a choice
I must live on for hope to hear your voice

This New Year comes and with it comes a tear
For you will not remember I am dear
And so its days without you I must fill
How deep the sorrow, for I love you…STILL

Eileen

One of my favorite songs of all time is Lionel Richie’s song STILL. 

Enjoy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XyHHiyQjeg

Copyright © Eileen Manassian


Details | Iambic Pentameter Poem | |

Red Roses Fade To Black

Red velvet petals, only I, seduce,
With hidden danger under the disguise,
My fingers feeling shyly, I reduce,
Thorns sharpen, ready, waiting the unwise.

Before me, bleeding poison, I assume,
This flower withered, shriveled the entire,
A dark extracted substance, the perfume,
No beauty, only sorrow, I admire.

Withdrawn I wept lamenting the depart,
A rosebud, crimson, youthful, I erased,
A lifeless flower, never I impart,
nor taken with affection, I embraced.







Written by Kelly Deschler  October 23rd, 2014




Copyright © Kelly Deschler