Fear not the fierce wind, o gentle heart
Though it may rattle the eaves
And give no ear to its whispers with nothing to impart
But shallow promises that hang, like dried, parched leaves
Listen to its mournful wails on the way to some distant shore
Leaving in its trail, the harsh rawness of a chill
And envy not; give pity instead and be sure to keep no scores
For the warmth of a gentle heart is by far, richer still
For who can fathom the baleful howls invading valleys below;
Billowing across the fragile earth and her boundless seas?
Is it in anguish that it protests; who can really know?
Or is it a mere expression of a mighty power that seethes?
Yet, judge not, o gentle heart, but like a blade of grass amidst a storm
Lay calmly into the wind; rely not upon your strength to stay strong
Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2012
Dearest, why cry in vain to the black night
fight its gentle intent to hold and rest.
Why fear the loss of light thus malcontent?
When ego is so false upon the loom.
Dearest, what makes you think elation found
from harsh light will so frame your hearts delight?
Reality thus formed will not slay fright.
When ego goes so false upon the loom.
Dearest, husks of the Universal eye
soft grays will velveteen the fading light.
Walk on courageous in the Mother's night,
accept the silken comfort of the blur.
All that is soft and gentle comes from Her.
Dearest Heart, loose yourself upon the loom.
*Dedicated to my friend Robin Gass
and all those who fear dispersal in the dark.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009
Intensive spring, her season of flower,
Full vigorous essence, beauty's wonder,
Horizon of womanhood - her power
Intimidated me, mind asunder.
Her lips so soft but pressing pleasant there,
No way could I repay her art's measure,
Such opened passion - more than I could bear,
No full reply had I to this treasure.
She sensed my frailty in the interplay,
All then was lost, the moment cast aside,
Time could not hold the pace, she fell away,
So go then, little boy, you run and hide.
Now decades later, I can only sigh,
Best day of my life, ready not was I.
December 9, 2016
For Sara Kendrick's contest - 'Three Choices Plus Two Which Equals Five Or I Haven't Got a Clue' (Pandora's Box version).
Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016
There was a warning came one day
It said disaster’s on its way
An old volcano in the distance
It could erupt in any instance
The molten ash came pouring out
As neighbouring village was in doubt
Folk were running to and fro
It seems they had nowhere to go.
Buildings were cracking one by one
Blocking out the golden sun
This thing did turn our day to night
As everyone was filled with fright
As the Earth did turn to lava
Many prayed to the holy father.
Vera Duggan 16 August 2014.
Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2014
Sad boy, could anyone mend what's broken,
And dry your salty tears, but with a hand?
Is there anything we haven't spoken,
Is there anything we don't understand?
We have taken the rope, but not the pain,
I hope you know that we wish that we could.
We'll be here for you, through sunshine, and rain;
And if we knew how to help you, we would.
I know that you're angry with all involved,
And especially those close to your heart.
But surely, some day, all will be solved,
And you will thank them for playing their part.
So please read this poem, with thought and care,
Remember that we will always be there.
~ For D (you know who you are)
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2012
I turn to my girl highlighting Mayday is near
A day of spectacle that the whole village views
There's Jesters of folly and Knights without fear
Witnessing lances and jokes, always going askew
To view such we can venture along different ways
We can stroll by the river listening to many sounds
In awe as we walk amidst most wondrous displays
That on any given day beautiful vistas abound
Decisions, decisions, as we contemplate which way
It's such a special day wondering what to wear
Beauty personified will my Olive be on this day
Knights or Royal Princes, all they can do is stare
So tomorrow we've decided to be our chosen route
Two hearts in decision, declaring what's their suit
Mayday morn now greets as I turn next to me
She my guiding light as beautiful as the dawn
Excitement illuminates for into her eyes I see
Onto my back I lie, that feel she's now upon
Into this day we go heading along the river
Crystal clear translucent such serenity in it's flow
Under greened canopies cooled shaded deliver
Wafting leaved dress in delightful fanned throw
We sense the clearings near for scents we sense
Sporadic clusters in capture of welcoming eyes
Mayday games have started, distant heard suspense
Knights on horseback mounted, now in espy
Now we're in amidst encapsulated we now are
She's here to cheer, her Sir James, soon to spar
Balcony she now awaits, white steed he's now astride
Blinkered pairings gallop towards intended foe
To win this Mayday he, to fight for her his bride
Eliminate his enemy, witness his crimson flow
His lance in now connect, thrown metal disperses
Petals of beauty hurled of rainbows selected
Images of we, now thinking marital rehearses
To know on this day, her intended she's elected
Moments of their previous now in recent past
Knowing they're now free in kaleidoscopic stream
Spectrum of feelings now in view full cast
In colourful extremes, fight for your dreams
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2015
A vision through the haze of time and rhyme
a mirrored beauty, Helen sits and waits.
I see her through the window for it's late,
at dawn, I'll bring her death, for she's not mine.
As yet, the key's not turned in lock sublime,
and I will stand and wait as fear dictates.
The Master's carriage leaves at half past eight
then I approach the shrouded outer gate.
Through the door and to Helen's room, I run,
and grasp her tightly to my beating chest.
I tear the cloth from her and she's undone.
Helen prays for her Paris dispossessed,
as on the satin sheets my stanchion drums
out of fight and breath, she acquiesced.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
To quiver in darkness, lost love to blame.
To build a tighter web to bind your heart.
Troubled by reason, your soul to reclaim.
To hide with the shadows, broken apart.
To cover yourself from pain and sorrow,
And flee from life, safe in darkness found.
Inside the dark, will be no tomorrow.
This despair you cling to, a chosen ground.
A broken heart becomes your domain,
Will always keep you from love's encroach.
It brings you comfort this dark thirsty pain,
A cold poisonous drink love will not approach.
A slow death alone, as your tears begin.
You hope love will find you worthy again.
date written 10/14/15
For the contest Trashed 4 sponsor Broken Wings
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015
The Real Fear
The fear of darkness seems to threaten most
when I am lost and groping in the dark
of self. I blame unknowns—the devil, ghosts
or even God—for fright that comes with stark,
cold, empty blackness. Courage will depart—
just like a pearl dropped in a sea of ink,
its glow will die—while fear's black magic art
revives despair between each hurried blink
of eyes which stare at shadows that incite
imaginary monsters of my mind.
But oft these visions are the mirrored sight
of what I see within when eyes are blind—
For darkness lights and magnifies the whole
dim panorama of the troubled soul.
Sandra M. Haight
Premiere Contest: Your Worst Fear
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
Contest: Monsters and Marvels
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014
YOU LOOKED TOO DEEP
You looked too deep where no one's seen before
into the very deepest part of me
where hides my very breathing soul and more
I'd not allowed the world to even see.
You made your way right through my heart and mind
and opened doors I thought were locked up tight
through mazes quite complex that twist and wind
into what makes me tick, but out of sight.
The walls came tumbling down--you stripped me bare
between two heartbeats you came all the way
to see my greatest fear that trembled there
and then you let me know you wouldn't stay.
I sit and look out windows to no where
and think of all the nothing that is there.
© ron wilson arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2015
The moon is full and white, and chill, this night,
it cascades past my open window sill,
and all the color fades to dark from light,
a monochrome of gray which can't be stilled.
The armoire's oblong shadow strays across the floor.
I watch it from within my canopy bed.
A nightmare gallops through an open door,
a Pooka black as coal with eyes that bled.
Its jaw agape and gore froths from his maw,
as it slowly paws the cover from my bed,
a scream freezes in my throat, a bird-like caw,
he dips down for me to mount, and I am led.
Upon this demon spawn, I scour the moor
'til dawn descends to belay this foul glamour.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
I am deprived of my old sweet relief,
Turning the page but turn to the leaf.
I spill out myself to sanction some space
To which I can return, try to compensate.
Contemplate and complicate my own design
I find this a fate to which I cannot resign.
Soaking in the petrichor of each night,
Of every solemnly forsaken fight.
Each decision and each disappointment
So boldly displayed in my temperament.
I need this safety net below me always to move
Even one step forward toward what I pursue,
Simple answers and the life good enough
Hoping life itself does not call my bluff.
Copyright © Samuel Lee | Year Posted 2015
THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN
February 13, 1945
Pathfinders lit the night to show the way
for bombardiers too hungry for the word;
as Dresden's dark was made as light as day,
all hearts were stopped before the blasts were heard;
and as the din was heard by all their ears
the sound it made was not reality
but far removed from all the hopes and fears
and what they thought would never come to be.
They loved the Fuhrer--sin enough for all
to die the fiery death of sweet revenge
brought on by those who had enough of gall
to drop their loads in wartimes heated binge!
And when the fire consumed all that it could
the winter of their lives was understood.
Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2012
Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art much more shrivelled and much more cold
Rough winds shake the withered leaves of today.
And your stomach hath too many a fold.
Sometimes too hot your sister shines,
And often is your grey complexion dimmed;
And you always smell like my uncle’s swine
Except your upper lip is less well trimmed.
Thy eternal summer did long since fade
And lost possession of that fair thou ow'st;
And Satan brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives death to eyes.
Copyright © Jeremy Lin | Year Posted 2012
Like Frankenstein, I, too, am loathed to death;
I walk this earth devoid of friend and hearth,—
devoid of joy from the time of my birth
and from the first draw of my infant's breath.
An outcast and a pariah among
the friended, I exist without the mirth
and glee of those born of happier worth,
esteem and prize,—O would that I belong!
Still, I am loved of my dear family
and most loved friends, my books, and by my God
and e'en by my most oft-read poetry.
These things I cherish, honor, and must laud
with gratitude and thanks religiously
and be content as worms in a blesséd sod.
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2014
whispers carry through the silent air
and linger for moments after which spoken
I take the time to let them echo inside my ear
before they fade and their presence is broken
shallow breaths in a rhythmic type of tune
wishing for the moment to last forever
afraid that goodbye will be said too soon
breaking the bond that ties us together
locked in a gaze only to be suddenly taken
away from what was cherished between
distance widens I pray to be mistaken
from what is now being forcefully seen
fear running wild I struggle to meet your eyes
as the last whisper I hear is one of goodbye
Copyright © nicole marrier | Year Posted 2012
The hunter hunted; the past comes stalking,
breath now visible, I quicken my pace,
dusk has fallen, nature is now talking,
autumn's chill causes my heart to race.
My eyes scan dense forest from left to right,
I stop, gain my footing in the thicket,
only branch and crimson leaves in my sight,
owls call out, and prey upon the cricket.
Voices seem to speak from the babbling brook,
cold stones, worn smooth, waters of countless days,
eyes are everywhere, yet nowhere I look,
something is near, I cannot get away.
Struggling, my arrow kept at the ready,
my once stealthy hand, is now unsteady.
This was my original entry for Debbie Guzzi's contest - "A Crown of Sonnets"
(This is also the first sonnet that I had ever written.)
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
I wonder what your thinking, in your country far away
And what on earth possesses you to threaten mine today
You allow your people to starve, munitions they are first
While daily people starve to death and many die of thirst
Your father and grandfather should have taught you how to care
Instead they shared their legacy of treating people unfair
Many live in work camps with three generations or more
Simply because they disagreed, so now all must chore
You live in style above the rest, have people who adore
But deep down, I believe that each person longs for more
You teach hatred and despise my country each and every day
For freedom and free choice would take yours away
Your people follow in fear, like robots in a line
I wonder how long they will conform or will it be your time
More and more try to escape, or die instead of live
In a country such as yours that takes much more than it gives
Each building,statue, memorial you have to tell a tale
Of twisted truths and travesties instead they often fail
For freedom is what's needed in the country you call home
Grow food instead of opium,and leave the people alone
You have the power in your hands to change what was past
Hurry please before it's too late you must do it fast
Do not start a war in which more people will die
Because your father and grandfather started it with a lie.
Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013
He has an aura, a look of concern
Written all over his face to discern
There’s fear in his eyes, almost into tears
He has a face of age, having more years
The lips tremble with terror within them
The skin, wrinkled, holds stories of wisdom
But pain is in the heart of this hurt face
Wherever he goes, while he’s anyplace
There is a singing deep inside his head
He does not cower, this he does not dread
The music enlightens him bringing joy
Having something for once to go enjoy
No matter the scowl placed on his being
He will still have a life of love, singing
Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013
Oh mother, dear mother, come make my bed,
for the sun grows tired and has lost its shine;
come bless the place where I will lay my head,
surround it with angels, all that’s divine.
Oh mother, dear mother, come bar the door,
count the slow clock's chime as shadows descend.
Eve's breeze is now listless, birds sings no more,
all the land lays in silence , till night ends.
Oh mother, dear mother, sing me to sleep,
drown the foul voice of fears infestation;
let us join strength, to one another keep,
safe here in your care, and consolation.
Dear father, please protect us through the night,
save us from all harm, till dawn brings us light
Copyright © T.Nicole Williams | Year Posted 2014
Behind your closet door,
a monster, you decide,
has moved the toys aside
to snooze upon the floor.
So near you'll hear him snore
you fear, from there inside.
So I, this very night,
when certain you have been
kissed on your cherry chin
and loved with all my might,
in just the gentle light
the moon and stars let in,
will hold you safe and tight
until your dreams begin...
Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015
Barely enough time before I walk to my fate,
to confess all my wrongs before it is too late.
The hall is cold – narrow- to the end of the line,
short steps echo as my elapsed thoughts entwine.
I feel blank walls - constant tears forgotten,
sweat from fear - stained and forever rotten.
Smell of death cuts me in to - like my knife,
that stabbed a young man - took away his life.
Oh God forgive me for what I have done,
effaced without consent from wife or son.
didn’t know him in the dark, he was just there,
he fought bravely for his years but didn’t care.
I walk to my death – stare through its vile eye,
took a young life, now I must clearly die…
Copyright © 2015 by Caryl S Muzzey
Copyright © Caryl Muzzey | Year Posted 2015
Alarm as mind is hurled in icy cage
deaf to what between them nurses said,
orchestra of terror took the stage
and heartbeat had took refuge in my head
'Just keep you're breathing steady, won't be long,
you're doing well', consultant's last remark,
metallic taste was forming on my tongue,
a whistling in my ears heralded dark.
wide eyed, frozen, hands on rails tightly cling
helpless, supine, outside my comfort zone,
nerves tighter than overtuned guitar strings,
surrounded, yet never felt so alone.
It still walks with me now, I shan't forget
The day that fear and I finally met.
For contest 'Dancing with description', sponsor- Casarah Nance
28th October 2015
Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2015
Who pays this roaring mass?
Which pretends it has nothing to do with me?
Yet keeps pulling its antenna,
To watch what I do?
Who pays these seat feelers?
To gawk at me
Even when I am yawning?
Who pays this swam
To creep into my bolts
And unlock the secrets
Of My private business
Who pays us?
For I have been possessed by their intrigue
I find myself doing what they do
Yet I am not paid at all
I am going on strike
This boss has to pay me
Because I am becoming a workaholic
yet earning Revenge
Copyright © Rodgers Roger | Year Posted 2013
The day begins with promises,
from the east as the sun rises,
it has hope that to all it carries,
lighting our way from bitterness,
that we wish to leave with yesterday.
The promise to shine away the pain,
bring smiles and joy to its prey
that it feeds from everyday.
Then the wind changes its direction,
twisting smiles into smirks,
clouds try to get each other’s attention,
light shines from the grey sky,
threatening to take life by a flash.
Then the blue hides under grey,
then small drops of tears of the sky.
That is how love passes by.
The loving OW-JAY
Copyright © odwa mdeyide | Year Posted 2015
I gave up on you years ago
Felt love in my life had to go
Felt free and strong without care
Never needing wanting another there
Life has changed so much since then
Looking inside I take to pen
Wonder have I grown up yet
To include something more than a pet
Another February comes to be
Alone again hello, just me
Valentine's day it comes and goes
Will I again receive a rosé?
Will this be the year I'm ready to see
If someone can share their life with me?
Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013
For you're the one who makes me spring and grow
In a beautiful vernal equinox
When winter came, said thee "I have to go"
In almost nirvana, thee became flux
As seasons changed, I waited in pure vain
Retrouvaille someday, in cockaigne of ours
Overmorrow, season of growth again
O God, asking to reconnect lost stars
Growth and beauty have passed in a half week
I'm now a shade darker, color no more
Yes, the days have made me totally meek
Bring me back to the days with her afore
Regain, rebirth, relive me for I cry
Ne'er feuillemort, but when green was I.
COMPOSED OF: 3 QUATRAINS AND A RHYMING COUPLET
FORM: SHAKESPEAREAN SONNET (also known as ELIZABETHAN SONNET)
NUMBER OF LINES: 14
SYLLABLES COUNT: 10
PATTERN: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
Copyright © Hansteven Selfa | Year Posted 2015
Remembering the holocaust, deep in the soonest dream
Of a beloved is buried all my hope for you begun,
So I need not wait with oil and cloves to teem
Over the mind of history, or a silver gun –
Or gas chamber with the power on
When thousands surged and left their clothes behind
Bereft of rings and ornament which shone
As the glister of a tear, shedding was too kind -
Not so bitter then, and as a lowered head
Bids goodbye, to a grim life, like the slowing eye
A candle gleam of light will haunt those dead
Who all past passing, can multitudes descry
In one poet living with expectation, thinking thrill was death
Which came, in the last sentence before your final breath.
(on the anniversary of the death of Sylvia Plath, February 11, 1963)
Copyright © Rosemarie Rowley | Year Posted 2016
You My Son Shall Venture Forth Without Fear
You my son shall wander into vast halls,
sit by craggy rocks upon mountain peak.
Hear the wisdom in Nature's sweetest calls,
wade in deeper where rushing waters speak.
Listen to night owls as they softly hoot,
see the slow sinking moon sparkle anew.
Walk soundly, learning to ride, rope and shoot,
sail daringly upon great oceans blue.
You my son shall venture forth without fear,
face the darkest storm and its mighty blast.
Hold out against great pain without a tear,
catch fish on each and every thoughtful cast.
Yes, you my son, shall do better than I.
This my last prayer asks before I die.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-13-2016
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 15 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 107
NOTE- Written 7 years ago(Justin was then two years old)- edited today(shortened) to be a sonnet.
Cut out 14 verses and altered the rhyme scheme to match.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016
When spring dies shall the valley shines,
And by the light of night quivering heart away,
Yet through beauty morning confines,
Till that ripe in please, so a master archway
Where the dreamers like twin births’ filling with kisses, and lies;
Thou as Earth art fair and young and open to please,
To sing within another hour and close from the auguries
And teach everyone else just as a command of love, cease
No more from the last tear from November. I met afternoon
Where all creatures are in such display and all these plays
Too late then with thou shower thy from I am the lonely gossoon
Behind the rocks dreaming or laughing, so cold from their foreplays;
Shall I late to see through for what I become and I wish?
To hide from the moral shine what I could not abolish?
Copyright © George Zamalea | Year Posted 2012