Best 15Th Poems
JUNTEENTH ANTHEM
Justice without prejudice we pray,
Unsung heroes paved the way.
No cross, no crown, cries sing from the ground,
We can still hear them singing now today.
Every trail of blood that made our history,
Today bookmarks the end of their misery,
No pain, no pride, our scars can’t hide,
Our song a forever symphony.
Juvenescence shines like the sun’s slow climb
and I see a bird not yet flown its cage,
I hear the footsteps in the march of time -
a journey of self, a coming of age!
Thus you Peter Pan on wings of an elf,
who seeks to fly between far and never,
must now say goodbye to your childish self
and dreams of eternal youth forever.
So fly dear boy, fly and never look back
and richly love the heart and feel the soul -
save close your nobilities lest you lack
for all that you do bears a living toll.
And turn your mind from temptation unsought
with all care and profundity of thought.
Written: March 2015
Fifteen years have passed
Since that fatal day
When terrorists killed 343
This is what it means to me
The people going about there day
Passengers flying on there way
Evil men take over the plane
Fly into the building thats insane
The losing of all those innocent
No way they can repent
I know it was done for their cause
But all its done is create wars
From this major catastrophe
Many people just don't see
people have suffered from nightmares and the loss of life
Terrorist should be locked up for causing all this strife
My heart goes out too those that lost
Family and their friends
And wish that this event could be labeled the means towards the end
They will not be forgotten
As it changed the world that day
Everyone feeling rotten
Hands in my head I pray
I am not a religious man
One thing I must just say
Look Mr terrorist take it
And please go away
The world does not need this trouble
It's been going on too long
To many people hurt in the rubble
Forget your radicalisation and move along
Rest in peace everyone
Affected by the act
Let's hope the leaders of the world
Can sit and make a pact
1
O, e’er she cometh and calleth me from the barren wolds whereupon lieth the first palpitation of the laconic exchange of bashful glances;
O, whensoe’er thy dulcet voice wafteth o’er the hummock, and thy throat trilleth for none but me, mine eccentric euphoria is celebrated by nature;
O, in the untrodden tryst wouldst thou palliate the passion of mine? I pray you, do love me, fair damsel, only because I really love thee.
2
Prithee, my ladie, my beautie, tell me wouldst thou fain love me? Knowest thou I am fain to gain thee, and hope I thou art so. Once hither thou camest and didst canoodle me, wert thou fearless and didst enrapture me. Thou , undaunted, snuggle’dst, kiss’dst , embrace’dst a swain. E’er thou wast fain to have me lain on the lovers’ crimson bed. And when dost thou bestow upon me the ancient ecstasy, and sleek is the cheek of my kingly belle, feel I relieved i’th’ glaring tryst, my sweet love !
Joan, the girl, met messengers from heaven.
One time, two others with her saw them, too.
Archangel Michael, Gabriel, and hosts
Noticing while discerning she obeyed.
Over and over she attended mass.
Forgetting not their guiding instructions.
Armored with her banner and faith she led.
Royal armies soon saved beloved France.
Chauchon and half-truths bought the maiden death.
Joan of Arc, forgiving and faithful, was burned without complaint.
England's revenge, a martyr's glories, now, an innocent saint.
© February 24, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: MAVERICKS
Sponsor Cyndi MacMillan
Form: Acrostic with a Couplet refrain.
Chocolaty sweets for my sweety,
Fragrant beauties for my beauty,
Why the long face, hello?
Little mud with thatched hut
Many were in this hut from my forefathers
All are passed away
I saw there was an old banyan tree on the corner of home yard
A tamarind tree was there on the east side of pond
Was there afraid of ghost at moonless night
Was there dome of straws on the entrance side of the yard
Cocks, hens, ducks, cows, goats full of domestic animals were
Were there paddy granary, fishes in pond
Were there Syed Masjid and Kali Temple in my village
Abbas Maulabi and Dev Prasad Brahmin taught religion there
But now no hut there is without concrete building;
Picture of Socrates, Plato, Aristotle
Picture of Einstein, Hawking, Sri Tagore, Whitman
Tomb picture of Ghazali, Shams Tabrizi, Rumi, Lalon Shaiji
Saintly picture of Mother Teresa telling me consciously-
'No one is permanent o dear child! '
Now, I find all these are in this painting scenery of artist
and in the true poetic expressions
As memory rider an artist and poet can awake the gone past
Ephemeral all are on this earth inn
Though slight glittering happiness in the artist canvas
and poetic imagery words;
After a while these all will be disappeared
I, s/he and you are not eternal
Eternity is not the property of the creations
Happiness and sorrow, life and death, time and tide...
Healthy and wealthy, sickness and poverty....
Disasters and epidemic either natural or artificial
Frolicsome and lock down city
nothing is permanent
Universal truth that-
Eternity is not applicable to my thinking
where time is always changeable link
and unseen separation being
This dark night will go far after some hours
The sun must shine the world offering nature
09.04.2020 (Chattogram City)
‘A Thorn, Is A Thorn’ 15th Senryu
A Rose, Compliments
The Blossom-Dew … Then Thanks It
But The Thorn-Bush Bit
I
July will forever be "America's birthday"
I try to recall why each month or holiday
Is special, but did forget, for days now
Nelson Mandela had been born 18th July
I did work in his government, but sadly
For me Madiba would not run again
Setting an example beyond the continent
That access to office is not license to reign
II
So from beleaguered South Africans
Happy Birthday Nelson Mandela, mensch,
Loadshedding is daily now, in South Africa
Immigration from poorer African nations,
Disguised often with student, retirement,
And business visas, especially from Nigeria -
Is exposed this week ... As in the USA
We feel overwhelmed, as with inflation
And the shabby state of our democracy ...
You remind us of your faults, of all humans:
We fail to be a savior anywhere, but The One
The 15th Law of Power
Forbids mercy during an attack
For the enemy who's life is spared
Is the one who lives to fire back
So if you've aspirations
To take the crown off of my head
You had better keep that trigger squeezed
Until you're damn sure that I'm dead
If you are not strong enough
To go in for the kill
You can make a bet on your last dime
That when I rise again, I will
your . is on
and i did
say that
one day
sometime
i would
gladly drink
from your chalice lips
not a sip
but sup
on your time
of the month
Form:
21YEARS OF YOUR MAY 15TH
Funmi DAVID,
great days doesn't come so VIVID,
from the CRADDLE
like a crawling DISABLE
till when you're grown & ABLE,
the moonlight CANDLE
drip a pinch of GREATNESS
in your starry EYES
as you rolled over the YEARS
into May 15th with much CHEERS.
This new day is your BIRTHDAY,
permittedly licensed to make HAY.
Your heart paddles in halcyon OCEANS;
let it celebrate in joy and PEACE,
parachuting you upward to colorful SPARKS
and glowing like 1,000 STARS
even though no waxy MESS
to be sniffed by birthday GUESTS,
let's heartily celebrate your 21ST,
anticipating what befalls NEXT
like a student seated for a TEST.
I wish you nothing but the BEST.
VickWizzy.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © May 15th, 2020.
My mind is lost, but I am happy
The mirror sees differently, but I ignore
My favourite colours are mystery, isolation, and quiet
My favourite rhythms are softness, softly, and softer
However, my straight walk is melancholy concrete hard
My yearn is in the Winter Snowstorm of a Pink and Green Anniversary
The tears are invisible, and the ocean crashes through my façade in multiple units of salty measures
Yet and still I present my head in this unique period of battered aging
My mind is found, but the 'x' is still the CAPITAL
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