Loss Adventure Poems

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Details | Narrative |
I looked up at a silver moon 
Peering through a cloud of misty gloom 
As we sailed across the Atlantic Sea 
That fateful night in June 
 
And as I stood upon the bow 
A furrow crossed my troubled brow 
When I saw a dying star fall from the sky 
As the wind out of the north 
Began to cry 
 
'Twas then with fearful heart 
I came at last to realize 
That we were sailing 
On a wave of ill-tidings 
Known as 'The Devil's Tide' 
 
For no omen of the sea 
Brought more fear than thee 
A fallen star -  a silver moon 
Together in the month of June 
If legend true would surely bring us doom 
 
So with no trace of land in sight 
We sailed onward through the night
I -  the Captain 'Louie Lou' 
With my faithful crew 
Aboard the 3 mast schooner 'Angel - of the Blue' 
On canvas wings we flew 
Upon the wailing wind that blew 
 
Then suddenly a hush of malaise 
Crushed the summer night
Filling all the crew with dreadful fright 
As all the stars in heaven lost their light 
And the silver moon dipped completely out of sight 
Leaving us to drift without guidance 
To our unknown plight 
 
An eerie sound began to roll out of the west 
Growing louder and louder as we held our breath 
Until it was upon us and the ship began rise 
As we looked in horror into the Devil's eye 
As the Angel of the Blue began to fly 
Up the Devil's breast she climbed 20 fathoms high 
 
One by one the Angel's wings were torn away 
As she fought to save us from the Devil's rage 
Screams of horror falling from her timber sides 
As the crew fell into the Devil's tide 
 
And I -  tethered to the helm -  watched them die 
As we climbed even higher into the Devil's eye 
And as the Angel's body creaked and cracked
We finally scaled the crest and rode upon the Devil's back
Just before I fainted and my world went black 
 
I woke up in the morning high on a mountain side 
Never knowing just how I had survived 
knowing only that my Angel and my crew had died 
 
~~~ 
 
Many years have come and gone since then 
And I am forever haunted by each and every one of them 
My faithful crew and my mighty 'Angel of the Blue' 
 
I see their faces in my dreams 
As I awaken to their screams 
Wishing, too -  that I had died 
But someone had to live 
To tell the tale of the 'Devil's Tide'.

~~~~~~~~

Author:  Elaine George
Entry for contest:  Legends
Awarded:  First Place




Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2007




Details | Free verse |
When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps

Copyright © Winter Wallace | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme |
His heart is with the winds
that set his spirit free,
enduring breeze that sets the sails
and guides him out to sea.

Sea rover fair with eyes as blue
as ocean’s deepest depth,
he hails the morning mist
and keenly sets about his quest.

The sea songs call his name again,
and he cannot resist
the feel of sea spray on his face
gentle as a fair maiden’s kiss.

For wanderlust has this young lad,
no port to claim his own,
he stands upon a galleon’s bow
forever meant to roam.

Oh noble buccaneer,
with a poet’s heart to feed,
he leaves behind fair lassie
with eyes of Erin green.

For pieces of eight
and gold doubloons to spare,
he sails into the early fog,
hungry for adventure is our gallant corsair.

So she waits upon the rocks
of far and distant shore,
with faithful heart and purity
sure he’ll sail to her once more.

She keeps a lantern in the window,
it’s flame burning bright,
a lighthouse in the darkness
to guide him on foggy night.

He fancies himself a pirate
sailing under blackened flag,
the skull and cross bones waves above,
a sailor’s nightmare, a soiled rag.

But our mariner sails the briny deep
with dreams of tales to forever pass,
and perhaps a shiny nugget
to bring home to his fair lass.

But oh, the days are salty
with ne’er a puff of breeze to slake
the raging thirst befallen those
with sweet water naught to take.

In the ensuing days ~

the crew went mad,
the captain slain,
and the scuppers ran with blood.
Our handsome sea farer lay face down
in the awful flood.

The boat rocked listless in gentle swells,
the sails lay flat against the main.
The bounteous treasure long forgotten,
glittering heap of ill gotten gains.

As weeks and months and years passed by,
and winters turned to springs,
our once fair lassie, wiser now,
no longer dreams such things

as bonnie lads that set sail home
and take a faithful wife,
as he learned there’s naught to gain
from such a roguish way of life.

Her pretty face is creased now,
lined from worry and age,
her shiny locks tinted
with silver and gray,

She walks along the shoreline
on a bright summer’s day,
shiny rocks and seashells
she gathers from the bay.

The pretty tinkling of glass
on the rocks draws her near
as a bottle lies bobbing
in the shallows so clear.

The cork it is swollen
and waterlogged there,
but what lies inside
she can hardly bear.

A ruby as red as the blood of life,
and a note that simply read . . .

“Lassie, may I take you for my wife.”

Copyright © Jill Martin | Year Posted 2006




Details | Lyric |
Another song written in middle school - edited of course. ;)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Verse 1] I'm trapped within these walls Never to leave at all I am the prisoner inside my own home My spirit is broken I do not believe I'm locked in this chamber which I cannot leave [Chorus] The needles that break the skin The anger that runs within I’m giving it all away Just to stay alive The needles that pierce my veins It will never be the same We’re on pins and needles now It’s how we survive [Verse 2] They say he’ll find me soon Got to get out of this room The blood will spill and he’ll take what he wants to I’ll never let him through GET OUT OF MY DREAM He whispers in darkness, “I’m not who I seem…” [Chorus] [Verse 3] The four walls around me They start to close in I know I’m too late now I know I can’t win So just tell me I’m crazy It’s all in my head You’re not the killer And I am not dead [Chorus] [Breakthrough] Don’t tell me it’s impossible To start it all over again Infection sinks through your pale skin You’ll curse the day that I’m dead [Chorus]

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011

Details | Haiku |
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

As he slept in tranquil dream, 
Suddenly he flew, it seemed. 
Thrown and landing on the floor, 
Shaking walls and splintered doors. 

Just as quick, the room grew still. 
Distant tremors he could feel. 
Out the door, and up the rock, 
There he stood in sleepy shock. 

How could oceans disappear. 
Then a hissing he could hear 
And a trembling, heavy roar 
Headed for an empty shore. 

Sunrise turned a greenish hue, 
As he climbed, a better view. 
Seeming far too large, he saw 
What must be a water wall. 

Thought of ancient stories told 
Of a wrath that could unfold; 
Sucking oceans with a breath, 
Spewing endless waves of death. 

Instinct quickly cleared his mind. 
Panic now, he clawed and climbed. 
Up, despite the screams he hears, 
As a village disappears. 

Once an evil came to call, 
Scooped them up and took them all. 
Now he's old, his stories wane, 
Of the morning Satan came.


Gene Bourne 
08-18-14


.

.

 

Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |
The sea is unkempt
Unwary sailors regret
Thar mate has been swept

Copyright © Joe Inca | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse |
How can one express the baffling depths of obscurity? How can one behold to open the shafts of the mind? I have never been able to solve the mystery— Of myself. . . I wish at times that my life was no more That I could live as another and finally see things right But I am always stuck in this darkness And I cannot see this mind in light There are beasts. . .demons prowling through the wasteland Searching for any remaining life And if they are ever found— They are doomed and consumed Fear is their downfall and they never fail to smell it Their ashes remain, dancing with the imaginary breeze It is silent here—there are no answers I wish there were answers. . . But maybe there was never a reason No answers. . . Talons extend and clench around my heart They will never seek me out—they left me here It is like they knew…I had no reason—that was the answer I feel the pulse of my dangling life Alone in the dark, whimpering like a child I have scared myself, becoming this dragon-daggered youth No balm in Gilead! No eyes to see All I know will never be free I don’t need anyone! You are a disgrace—scum of the waste! You have everything, you ungrateful little nothing You are a joke. . . So swallow it all up like the pushover you are Stand your lowest and trudge right through No questions. No answers. Just . You. Or just lie back down into the mush of disease It has already infected you to the core Accept who you are, you ugly pestilence! I hate you Who are you to be glorified? Dream snatcher. . .murderer of all things bright Saturated in what you call light I see right through—even as the reflections shatter All of the dead kept you alive—they all matter… But alive you are the worst there is False savior—edited attention whore I never want to see your face again See, that’s why I hide. . . Desperation. . .desperation. . . I sob and cry kneeling in defeat For once I am right. . .I am right

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
The greatest holiday gift I ever received  
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears

I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin

For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so

Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading

We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy

We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores

On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through

A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee

My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve

This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for

We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me





Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Dalzel-Job

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
Sandy grains
wash over and over
a discarded glass
bottle
leaving what is left
smooth as silk
to my fingertips
touch
like a childhood 
memory
thought over and over
once more
and as I look
out into the unyielding 
sea
I recall your promise
words
I recall, over and over
again
like the waves splashing my
tan feet upon the sands
for you are overdue
love
to return to me
as I kiss my love note
to you
and toss the bottle once
more
into the dark blue abyss
below
my coke bottle
promise
forever and only
yours 
I do stay
 honest

Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
So much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to shout.
It was like being trapped behind bars without a way
to get out.
My mind going wild with all these questions of why.
The only way to escape was to fall asleep or to cry.
What did I do so bad that made me have to pay?
My friends, my dreams, and my life was swepped away.
I know I can do it! I try and I try.
Nothing seems to get better. I sometimes wish
I would Die.
Starved for attention. I wanna talk to the world.
I just miss being loved. Miss the warmth of a girl.
Snickers and stairs is what my life has become.
I'm treated like I'm a kid, like I'm sick, or I'm dumb.
One day to the next. Life becomes work just to be alive.
I thank god for my blessings. I thank god I survived.
I finally see some improvement. More hope tickles
my brain.
It was worth all the time, all the tears, all the pain.
I awake with a smile and new hope to move on.
I did it! I did it! All those hard times are gone!

Copyright © Travis Flasnick | Year Posted 2009

Details | Ballad |
I'm sitting here again,
Just waiting for a call
So I can put on my suit
And help someone get up from their fall.
It's not an easy job,
This whole Superwoman thing.
Flying through the sky,
Moving at lightening speed.

As I sit here waiting,
I'm contemplating
Whether or not I should do something,
Because this is getting boring.
The music is on its sixth rotation.
I had every word memorized after the second,
But I know as soon as I start something,
Of course, I'll hear the ring.
It never fails.

When it finally does ring,
I put the "S" on my chest.
I'm there in two seconds
Helping clean someone's mess.

Broken lives and tattered dreams,
This is my reality.
Broken hearts. So many tears
I've wiped from eyes for all these years.
The children are the hardest to behold.
How do I save them from shattered homes?
The "S" on my chest is only a sign.
I'm not God. I can't go back in time.
I can't change the lives given to them.
I'm just here to help their little hearts mend.

When my job is done,
I head back home,
Take the "S" off my chest,
And lay down to rest.
Until the next time I get a call
And put my "S" back on to save someone from their fall.

Copyright © Stephanie Whitley | Year Posted 2008

Details | Ode |
This new born day I celebrate your souls release from guilt n’ captivity since that day you 
felt a carnal touch of sin within as your hands played poetically upon the curves of your dead 
lover’s silken skin…
I know now  you made your way to the top of the rocks to plant a tree to guard this sacred 
place where I fell from thee n’ you repeated the poetic chant of love’s abandoning to follow 
me into our karmic destiny…

On that fateful day your soul bled away at the top of this crest by a solitary juvenile tree, 
your body of words fell to the rocks at the base of this cliff, embroidered into the blood of 
me…
The one who would hold a feather to her face on this crest by the sea n’ remember finally 
the days gone by of you n’ me, our deaths from love’s abandoning when you my love were 
lost to this world n’ me for ten centuries…

I now await destiny as we will love forever more with immortal hearts…

Copyright © Lilt Of Orpheus | Year Posted 2009

Details | Ballad |
In London, away in a terrace
Half-hidden with elm trees and grime,
Lived young Violet, in her parents' house,
Left alone for near all of the time,

As her mother had no patience to teach her
And her father was working all day,
Violet read to herself through her childhood
Forgetting her seclusion in play,

Any friends she made as a young woman
Would laugh at her stitches and cloth,
For they knew that Violet was quite useless
And so showed their neat needlework off,

Poor Violet kept trying her best, but
Each time everyone ran her down,
She retreated back into her mind's warmth
Far away from that cold-blooded town,

Then one night, as the raindrops were piercing
Through the rueful, restricting twilight,
Violet threw on her Sunday attire and
Did at once in the darkness delight,

So she ran through the alleys and gardens,
Dancing down the pitch-black London streets,
Her beautiful dress flew about her
As she skipped past the other deceits,

Violet's stories swam round in her memory
As she flew through the night and the stars,
And she bathed thoroughly and with relish
Until Violet was cleansed of her scars,

Now her heart was open and happy,
So she laughed and fluttered her tail,
Carelessly gliding free through the water
And onwards to the ocean did sail.

As the weary sun rose on the next day
Her friends could be seen on the pier,
Dabbing at their dry eyes with their hankies,
Voices straining trying to sound sincere,

"It has hurt us so indescribably,
That because of her poorly-sewn hems,
Violet felt she was inferior to us
And has drowned herself in the Thames."

Violet's parents had not yet noticed
The absence of their only daughter,
And they would understand even less
How she came to be dead underwater,

But Violet was now free to prosper,
To swim and to dance and to glide,
And with angels and mermaids to play with,
She would always in her dreams reside.

Copyright © Sarah Jones | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
I had dreams, sometimes
About him
always about glass streams
I used to love his company
Or the promise of it,
In my dreams.
Then my eyelids spread apart
And they stroked blissful clouds
As he made me mumble and
Sigh through my words
And blow bubbles of nonsense into the dense air
While lying in his arms
On his chest
In his mother’s bed
Cradling my heart
Caressing my 
body
With his hand between my thighs
Rubbing, exploring, sinfully
Touching me
And the throat filling silence
And the sound of his mouth
And the expulsion of breath
And the symphony in his chest
And my love echoing through my body
With his hand between my thighs
And the electricity in my fingernails
And my limp, clenched, guilty, pleasure bond body
Anticipating
The exploration of his hand
Between my thighs
Before then
Before we were there, or I was there, or he was there
Holding me
Closer, 
His hand rhythmically
Slithering up my thigh
Allowing me to taste the darkened fruit of paradise
On his mother’s bed
(and my wonder if I was dreaming)
no
before then
I can only remember Innocence.

Copyright © Megan Edmonds | Year Posted 2006

Details | I do not know? |
She’s a little girl abused in so many ways.
She knows for everything theirs a price she pays.
She doesn’t go where other children play.
So much lost.
So much at cost.
She’s berried with in her pleas.
Clothing tore to all degrees.
She runs to the church knowing everything he sees.
Maybe he can set her free.
Little girl on bended knees.

She can’t wash his smell away.
No matter how much she bathes.
Do you really have to love daddy this way.
Day by day she prays.
So many memories will prey.
She wishes they would just fade away.
In the bushes she hides.
Daddy is dead inside.
To god she will confide.

“God who will believe me?
Who will see?
Mom always said it was just me.
Now she has to see.”
Little girl on bended knees.

Her life is so hard in part.
Yet not compared to what she sacrifices in her heart.
He slices it up and rips it apart.
She wants to point blame
But lowers her head in shame.
God taking over this little soles hope 
And his heart is breaking.
There is so much she is staking.

She raises her bloody hands high.
Deep down she wishes she could die.
But she made daddy finally say goodbye.
Six years old murdering daddy to finally be free.
Little girl on bended knees.

Copyright © Jeanette Huston | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse |
FAREWELL MY FRIEND

Within the heart of this gentle man, rocked the storm
Of the open highway, a blazing passion that burnt and
Singed at his inner soul spirit.
Spiritual kindred of the Harley idealism, born to be free,
Living with the wind beneath his wings of cycle chrome,
An eagle silhouette beneath the horizons lost venues,
Of the routes less traveled by.
Oh God bless this lost road warrior, for he tried
His best to live by the rules of honor, bravery,
And courage.
Beneath those wrinkles of age, a sparkle lit within
Those eyes that remained timeless, but only a biker
Can truly understand such passion that drove such
A gentlemen such as this friend of mine, known
Simply as Tattoo.
Oh the open highway is a harsh mistress, clashing
Hard with the review mirror of reality, betrayed by
The warmth of sorrows distrusting female, it was
All that remained left unto he whom loved her
Best, but the lure of drugs took him away,
Leaving us to wonder why?
It is said that God protects the meek and mild,
If this is true, may he stand at the right side of
The good and just. Beyond these troubling shores,
That seemed to bare down upon him so.
Let the divine winds of grace always remain
At his back, as the breezes of freedom blow
Through his graying hair, riding onto the last roads
Eternal highway on his majestic Harley, we bid
Tattoo a toast in destiny’s honor and fellowship.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |
(This is a fictional poem)

I soar through the air as I shoot webs from my hands.
When people see me, they say there goes Spider-man.
A few years ago I was bitten by a radioactive spider.
After my uncle was murdered, I became a crimefighter.

My spider sense tingles and I can sense danger.
When I brought in my uncle's killer, I was full of anger.
I have spider strength and I can climb walls.
When I battle villains, I defeat them all.

I fight the Green Goblin, Doc Ock and other villains too.
It's what we superheroes have sworn to do.
Because of my contribution, the police just arrested the Kingpin.
Villains constantly try to defeat me but they never win.

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
I’m tilling to forget that night 
of fire and betrayal.
Turning the soil over, over and over,
over days months eons.

Waiting to be fed when belly
aches with hunger and thirst.
Did you have to poke out my eyes?
Make me remember silk?

I am a thousand fists shaken
in night sky. I am broken
on gravelly field, a puzzle, 
my boiling blood walked off

left me skin stretched under hot sun
bleached bones poke out.
The others walked off in disgust
when you left us without.

Once our riverside hideout
let us launch our toy ships,
rode bubbles, slid over rock
churning fast and away...

The baby down pasted nest no
longer holds us inside,
too noisy, cramped in quiet spots	
by sea, beg drown sorrow.

I’m tilling to forget, turn soil
over and over, hope to eat,
hope the fire that escaped our soil
hope it was just a dream.

Hope you didn't steal our resources,
steal all our heritage.
We have no future echoes loud
down the halls of lost time.

We did the tilling that launched you
into a tomorrow. 
There you are, sailing free, happy.
We remain. Left behind.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
Analysis read—and wronged—and pulled
Lulled into our idealistic mess
Words no longer ours but hung distress
Farced in carnality—they are ruled

Soundness remains what we will believe 
And all else is but tethered nonsense
Clinched tightly in unfriendly absence
Overcome in overwrought relief

The judges judge on behalf of tongue
When ears and eyes close achingly tight
And perhaps in woe we find them right
For witches sought and bound must be hung!

Lower than the softened dirt that cures
Where worms in halves blindly come to eat
The higher crush with tormented feat
And the suns scorch what is left of hers

Answers never tried—and cured to hide
They look to superior sources
The rotten are the strongest forces
Ripened and toughened with bequeathed pride

-Iambic Tetrameter
Contest: Metrical verse
Sponsor: Giorgio Veneto
Laura Breidenthal

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Acrostic |
P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
!!

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Happiness in a Wrong way – Zamreen Zarook

In the notion of seeking happiness,
I thought of stepping in to nonsense,
I dream I could find success,
But I had only little access.

Every attempt that I lend,
It was an utter failure at the end,
My life was full of difficult bend,
But God is always there as a good friend.

My deeds travel in various ways,
Some times in subways,
Or in times it goes in highways,
But I had the belief, God is there always.

North and south families surrounded,
East and west friends are rounded,
Every time fear on death soughed,
I am trapped, and my merits are loaded.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013

Details | Bio |
Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war

A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying

Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
forever more,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
families mourn

A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
minimal risk,
long life, his number one ambition

As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed

The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late

Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right

Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right

Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight

Copyright © Mac McGovern | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ode |
If only dreams had wings,
I would be where I had wanted to be.
If only shadows don't stray so far off;
My destiny assured would bring me peace of minds

If only dreams had wings,
I'd have met my man from Tokyo by now 
If the roses still blooms, tended less;
Less worries that I will for so long plough

If only dreams had wings,
Low grounds will my feet fear
If money had meant no value at all;
Off every luxury should  my feet wear
 
If only dreams had wings,
There will be those bright lights;
Very eager to blind me into void's air-tights
If dreams had wings,
I would definitely be flying by now
And right now

Copyright © Dorcas Onuh | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Watch those buckaroos lose their insides when saddled to a wild one untied it’s fer a sight when they ride . Yiddy –up was the wail when a bull of a devil left his trail some kinda fight on the road to hell.
No wonder I headed for Whiskey Row with some forty drinks down below sure is thunder in your hole will rock your soul as you face the mighty cold.
Strums my guitar and softly singing as the cowboys are around the camp fire ringing as the fire is blazinin another day is hazing. Got the notion for prayin as another cowboy was payin and he was sayin
Lord ya know the deeds I’ve done and in the shadows I have hung I just wanted  to be thankful for meeting me on this fateful day and in  thy range I will forever stay.
Vanita Allgood	

Copyright © Vanita Allgood | Year Posted 2012

Details | Senryu |
they walked along
weathered, carrying their guns;
like the four horsemen…

down to the O.K.
guns blazing, bullets flying;
smoke clears, the strong stand…

Copyright © Tirzah Conway | Year Posted 2011

Details | Haiku |
empty cave
save for three corn husk dolls
tide takes one

4-7-13

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
It was a cold and rainy night.
The stars were shining bright.
It seemed as if the world was at a pause and not a person was in sight.
I sat quietly in my car, 
the sound of music I heard blasting from a far.
I opened my door,
stepped out slowly and looked around.
Now suddenly the music stopped,
not a word is heard, not even a sound.
I turned my head, looked over my shoulder,
I saw a woman running.
She was wearing a white gown.
I couldn't help but wonder why this woman running
flaunted such a frown.
I followed her footsteps,
I listened for the sound.
Running through the darkness,
one question came to mind,
Who would leave this woman?
Who would be so heartless?
How can someone leave her when she is so obviously distraught?
Abruptly a sound was heard.
I came to a stop.
I listened closely.
It was a gunshot.
Now fearful I stood.
I began to run as fast as I could.
I ran so fast, I could hear my heart beating.
I came upon my car and noticed a woman bleeding.
She was gasping for air.
Someone had shot her and left her to die there.
It was as if they didn't even care.
She reached for my hand,
whispered softly to me
"never trust a man"
At that moment her hand dropped.
I knew her heart had stopped.
I looked at her white gown now dripping red.
I I cried to myself and pondered what she had said.
This could be me.
I could be lying here dead.
I will remember her words always.
They will haunt me for the rest of my days.
This moment I will never forget.
No man should ever be such a threat.

This was the day my life would change.
From this day on I would never be the same.
The lesson I learned here,
never have such fear.
Fear that will keep me from being free.
I learned that I can be happy just being me.

Copyright © Deeana Valencia | Year Posted 2012