Onward mere mortal man
Your stoic heart abides
Armor clad you make a stand
To brave the swelling tides
Quiet of conscience bred
You fight the torrid breeze
Over feudal lands you bled
And the tempest tossed seas
No obstacle prevails
Your courage has no bounds
To the mast you lash your sails
And dock on foreign grounds
Honor you long defend
What mighty soul you hoard
When at last you greet the end
To relinquish shield and sword
Categories:
armor clad, war,
Form: Rhyme
She came out of a shadow on the bedroom wall.
Phem men-ing
pheel ings,
phore-tellings,
wings under her pearlescent feet
raven hair swirling about her face.
You cannot see her face,
but there is a face within her face,
and you can see, it emerges and disappears,
eyes cannot catch sight of it, but
you recognize a similitude of yourself.
Aghast you deny any mote of angelic divinity,
and yet
you are within her,
and she is showing you yourself,
as you cross a bridge
between the two lobes of your brain.
You are dragging a pair of heavy,
clumsy wings behind your body,
they are armor clad in a base metal.
The angel fills you with wild innocent desires.
Her seeking love writhes like a serpent
around your body.
Lips part within her nakedness
She speaks:
"Stand upright upon that arching span,
let those heavy wings fall into the abyss below.
Let go of any thought
of both you and I.
Fall.
I will fall with you,
all the way
all the way
all the way
until we reach that empyrean sky,
above all those
who assume they are one bit lower,
or one jot higher
than any kind of holiness.
Categories:
armor clad, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Like surreal paintings, today's tattoos
are phantasmagorical works of art.
And unlike traditional blacks and blues,
infuse color and shading from the start.
It's worth a little clenching and wincing,
to attain light and shadow interplay.
They're so realistic and convincing;
tats are on another level today.
No longer fading away like a bruise,
indelible inks, ink modern pieces.
And talented artists engage their muse
to create splendorous masterpieces.
Body adornment is an ancient fad;
human canvases seek to be unique.
Exhibiting inks as if armor-clad;
their skin hosts the artist's latest technique.
Categories:
armor clad, art, beautiful, color, how
Form: Quatrain
I will always wonder what sort of love we had.
I was naive and blindly infatuated.
You were seventeen years older than I, and sad.
From the beginning our shaky love was fated.
We had met and I fell, but patiently waited,
a fact for which both of our families were glad.
Even though we spoke with words insinuated,
I will always wonder what sort of love we had.
I wonder if we were a curious dyad.
Was this acerbic love become hate belated?
Only God will decide if this is good or bad.
I was naive and blindly infatuated.
Love faded rapidly after we had dated.
I wondered if I should remain calm or be mad,
I questioned guilty feelings that were created.
You were seventeen years older than I, and sad.
You were time-worn, emotionally armor-clad.
I understand now you would never be sated.
You bore the spirit of an unsettled nomad,
from the beginning our shaky love was fated.
Achingly romantic dreams I had created,
a basis for lifetime togetherness’ launchpad.
Alas, I have become confused and frustrated.
Tomorrow, in a renewed search for Galahad,
I will always wonder.
Categories:
armor clad, confusion, emotions, feelings, mystery,
Form: Rondeau Redouble
O Camelot! O Camelot!
The winds have changed, the land got hot!
Though dromedaries are quite neat,
A bactrian's hard to unseat,
And so the knights still joust a lot.
At banquet feasts, the men are found,
And like the table, they are round.
The reason they are heavy-set:
Girls now see knighthood as a threat;
Who lives life chaste and honor-bound?
Sir Galahad, a handsy lad;
His boasting made the maidens mad.
Now saddled with the cursed #metoo,
Chivalrous days of riding through,
He gardens, in his armor clad.
And then there is Sir Lancelot
Sad, as he aged, he weirder got.
Exchanging quests for lowly toils,
He traveled far just lancing boils,
Relieving pustulence and rot.
And Arthur lost what he held dear:
His lovely bride, his Guinevere
The evil witch, Morgana Fay
Transitioned her without her say,
And as a knight she does appear.
O Camelot! I just cannot
Believe the damage time has wrought.
And now the lady of the lake:
A charlatan, a fraud, a fake!
Ran off with Merlin, on his yacht.
Categories:
armor clad, fantasy, silly,
Form: Quintilla
I don’t limit who reads my verse,
only who I answer
Each word thick-skinned and armor-clad
all questions zero-sum
(To Nelson Riddle & Frank Sinatra: March, 2021)
Categories:
armor clad, writing,
Form: Free verse
Me Mother tucked me in, when I was small,
And made the nighttime monsters run away,
And kissed my cheek, still, when I’d grown up tall,
And broke me down when I had gone astray.
She gave her love through music, art and books
And loved Truth, only, more than us, I think!
She taught us to be humble, by her looks
Of disapproval, when we left a chink
Of falsehood in the walls of Truth we built.
My memory counts but three lies that I told,
And these, I still stain with a smear of guilt.
But she forgave me, once she had grown old.
I made my way, because my mother had,
Because I went forth in Truth’s Armor clad.
9/16/2019
Categories:
armor clad, appreciation, memorial, memory, mother,
Form: Sonnet
Don’t take for granted the love of this woman,
the wonderful one who has stolen your heart
Cherish your every moment together,
miss her the hours that you are apart
Stand and protect her in armor clad fashion,
show her the sun when there’s rain in the sky
Walk hand in hand down the path of affection,
take to the clouds as the two of you fly
Stay by her side when her worries start growing,
give her a hug just to show that you care
Tend to her dreams so her world can be magic,
hold her so close in these days that you share
Whisper soft lyrics as melodies linger,
paint her the sunset you see in her eyes
Promise her all she could ever imagine,
pen her a poem of romantic sighs
Conquer her fears when her teardrops are falling,
caress her skin that is soft to the touch
Kiss her with passion between those so tender,
prove to her always you love her so much
Don’t waste a minute, the future is waiting,
now is the time, it’s not too late to start
Don’t take for granted the love of this woman,
the wonderful one who has stolen your heart
Categories:
armor clad, love,
Form: Rhyme
Lugubriosity pervades
Heartbroken expression 'pon maid
War ready her armor clad knight
The hem of silken quilt cascades
Grieved like the maid who weighted prayed
Doldrums linger 'til love's in sight
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Contest: Senses For A Sestet
Written: October 30, 2013
Author: Sara Kendrick
Categories:
armor clad, imagination,
Form: Rhyme
Shining armor clad 'pon a white horse
Eternally strong knight my love, my guide
Reign in, hold, steer my feeble course
Encircle with loving arms, shelter, hide
Now let it be known I'm your pride
Delighted in you, you're love constant source
Intriguing the very thought of you implied
Passionate moments spent no remorse
Incomparable joy, rapture when by your side
Touched, tasted of tranquility yearningly tied
Year: 2012
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Contest: Romance Me With English Quintain
Written: November 5 and 6, 2012
The first letter of each line read downward
spells another word plus the first letter of year.
Categories:
armor clad, love,
Form: Quintain (English)
The Camelot That Was Not
By Elton Camp
Arthur was a king both wise and good.
He always did exactly what he should.
Sat with his knights at a table round.
Because equality would then abound.
Manly, virtuous, kind, tall
These they were, one and all.
And Arthur always kept near
The beautiful queen Guinevere.
His knights were in shining armor clad.
The hearts of his subjects they made glad.
Not one of them would ever delay
When a fearsome dragon was to slay.
Right at Arthur’s side
Old Merlin did reside.
Another wizard as powerful as he
The whole world would never see.
And what is that castle so fair?
It must be Camelot over there.
Any enemy would have to fail
Those steep, high walls to scale.
But of this idealized man and place,
Sadly, British history holds no trace.
Geoffery of Monmouth is to blame
For making this most bogus claim.
Back when little history I knew,
I blindly assumed it to be true.
Prince Valiant confirmed it all
From the time when I was small.
The sad fact I had missed:
Arthur did not ever exist.
I regretted that I misunderstood.
Arthur never lived, but he should.
Categories:
armor clad, funnyhistory,
Form: Rhyme
Tsar
tall, thin
carpenter
builder of ships
modernized every aspect of Russia
Government, Army and a vast Navy
supremacy
maritime
conquered
ports
cruel
selfish
devious
killed would be heirs
including his only son Alexei
A giant steering his frigate to port
exuding strength
armor clad
steadfast
Tsar
At 165 feet tall, "Peter The Great" is the seventh tallest sculpture in the world. Placed
in Moscow, near the bank of the Moskwa river.
http://www.galenfrysinger.com/moscow_peter_the_great_statue.htm
Categories:
armor clad, art
Form: Tetractys