Best Affray Poems
I was a Soldier
I was a soldier many years ago,
How time flies, where did it go.
To many places I was deployed,
Never too long before I was sent,
To fix things electrical was my bent.
I saw no action, that's how it was to be.
No matter where I was,no medals for me
I signed up to serve, wherever I was sent.
Invalided out, from FARELF I came,
No hero's welcome, just a whole lot of pain.
Didn't want Civvy life, thought it was a drag.
I guess it had the edge on a body bag.
I see guys coming home, leaving limbs behind,
A struggle to get help for their case do they find.
I see a disgrace on this government today,
They sent our best to fight in lands far away.
Our young fought and died in some foreign affray,
When you see them homeless,out on the street,
Let your heart go out to them as you hear them cry.
Because there but for fortune, go you or go I.
© Dave Timperley May 2016
Ronald was a tough old ram, the biggest of his breed
Daniel was a clipperman, renowned of shearing deed
Many sheep were sheared that day and woolless they had fled
Before those two met in affray and battled in the shed!
Ronald, he had seen old Wallace wrestled to the floor,
Mugged of his dignity and fleece, and knew that it was war
And seeing that his turn was nigh, his hooves he dug in deep
He'd fight and though perhaps he'd die, at least he'd die a sheep.
Daniel had no time to waste, he'd quotas set to keep
And unprepared, he reached in haste to take the waiting sheep
But Ronald steeled himself as Daniel took him by the horn
And, rearing, pulled himself away before he could be shorn.
Off-balance, Daniel stumbled, to Ronald's great delight
Onto his knees he tumbled as the shears flew out of sight
And Ronald now unhanded felt his victory increase
Protecting his sheep dignity and, likewise, his sheep fleece.
But Daniel was not beaten yet, he knew that he'd faced worse
His mind was still determined set, he rose up with a curse
But still he was unsteady and Ronald was a ram
His head was lowered ready and he charged the clipperman
Ronald's head met Daniel's side and toppled him again
This time headfirst and to collide his head against the grain.
Leaving, stunned, the clipperman upon the wooden floor
In final victory, the ram strolled out the open door.
But, alas, 'tis not the way that sheep triumph at last
And Daniel would not see the day that any sheep got past
Despite Ram Ronald's victor's pride, the shearer would not yield
So followed a less dignified pursuit around the field.
Ronald, he was fast and he had four legs matched to two
So Daniel was outclassed, if that was all that he could do,
But he also had a sheepdog and so Ronald was defeated
He would have had the victory, if Daniel hadn't cheated.
Through the streets of Whitechapel
A monster roamed them all
He left behind a history
Many to enthral
But who knew the romance
The lover behind this affray
He may wield a knife but in fact
Was Jack gay?
A romantic, emasculated by a wife
A sexual experience
Affected him for life
Read about the romance
The lover, murderer too
It's all in my new book
A paranormal tale for you
If you want a good yarn
My book is just a gripper
It's out in November and it’s called Rise of the Ripper
Perilous Times
Written: by Miracle Man
September 25, 2020
Lord, Hear our prayers as we intercede,
on behalf of our troubled world today.
Disobedient people good thoughts impede,
and each day brings some new affray.
Today we are living in those perilous times,*
that you said the last days would bring.
The media reports daily on riots and crimes,
change our hearts before death bell’s ring.
*2 Timothy 3:1-4
1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.
2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,
3 Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,
4 Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;
Written: November 12, 2023, For Unseekeing Seeker Contest
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Love is a rule binding us all, broad yet near,
Saffron sun sparks souls and spells fear.
Anger, stern iron law, and lethal sword to slay,
Charm shine, truth is a virtue, clean for aye!
We dwell in an ambivalent demesne of mind,
As feelings and amorphous concepts collide.
Follow me in this odyssey of introspection,
Delving into a quest for our soul's correction.
On this planet, hate spreads as a blaze,
Swallowed in the raging blast of a maze.
Consciousness draws us to raw heights,
Where dignity and empathy reign sleight.
Our abode is the vast canvas of the brain,
Disguised skepticism and ideologies strain.
This is where we face our darkest fears,
And delve into the roots of rage and tears.
Apathy is a cancer that eats at the soul,
A fatal illness that harms beyond control.
The way to growth requires looking inward,
Tear rage webs apart. Hello is a flimsy word.
I hear the quiet ticking of the clock in the hall,
That clock has put me to sleep. A crimson ball.
Being fed lies and fake facts, my soul is aware,
You ought to not have lied to me or compared.
Upon venting the wrath to a dear friend,
Anger melted, and the load did transcend.
I spoke with trust, unburdened by my soul,
And I gazed as my grief started to console
In this case, it is a correction that leads the way,
As we release our mutual animosity and affray.
For the sake of our deepest inner rectification,
We uncover the splendor of our actual reflection.
‘I thoroughly believe the time is near,
even in 2012 this year,
the need is quite clear,
stubborn concepts will resist for sure,
to no avail, love’s precept children are dear…
as grapes of wrath and crafts,
write their very own epitaphs’
precept will play spiritual taps,
as precept runs circled laps
around men of olds’ illusionary gaps….
(c Jude 1:3-4 KJV)
when a precept son is on a roll,
wrath of conquests will take its toll,
love will stir concepts of earthen mold,
works found wonting surely will fold,
by hands of some concept on a grassy knoll…
concepts within concepts will fold,
by illusionary hands of illusionary gold,
one Spirit holds even the hands of grassy knoll,
thinking to do their own, they are bold,
one twinkle of a star, the soul is sold…
wallow away as doth children do play
listen to what concepts of children say..
always at play, void of precept in every way
conceited scripts concepts of a play
wallow away, conniptions’ affray'
Selah
There were two dinos who loved the hop
When they got started, they could not stop.
They bounced - flailed about,
Until both passed out,
and detained for affray by a cop.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
One day again I may
become serious about writing poetry
with words to cushion the effect of trauma
those of a life, a sentiment for our historic past
and its people I hold most dear.
But alas not the arteries that lead the children,
those without a childhood, yet armed with a hand
held brain, fingers of suspicion and agenda,
to inject an input and get out
whatever trends the current manipulation.
While this day the power to annihilate a way of life
and the oldies; those a burden upon the state
theirs a different point of view,
an extension of the industrial revolution
long since gone, declaring.
‘My kids will never have to do this’
relegating a way of life to a third world phenomena.
Education the crown of reason
different directions the attitude to life,
laws to create and answers to establish
to the questions manufactured those unanswered,
when common sense lost
in the affray of democracy, and profit becoming God!
© Harry J Horsman 2014
A soldier has come home today,
He has been fighting in lands far away.
A soldier has come home today,
There were no cheers, not a single hooray.
A soldier has come home today,
In a coffin to his loved ones dismay.
A soldier has come home today,
He was mortally wounded, death led the way.
A soldier has come home today,
Back to his homeland to stay.
A soldier has come home today,
He no longer has to kill or slay.
A soldier has come home today,
For protecting our freedom the enemy took his life away.
A soldier has come home today,
Every nation needs brave men to keep the enemy at bay.
A soldier has come home today,
They risks life’s most precious gift in violent affray.
A soldier has come home today,
If die they must, let us pray they go heavens way.
A soldier has come home today,
We honour you and quietly pray.
Our soldier has come home today In this world every mother asks,
“Why does it have to end this way?”
Son of Trembling
The Sun will stop to shine
Where trapped they do recline
Where they drink and dine
Yet, search, pine and repine.
Would Humane inside him stir
To forsake malicious flair
Has he conscience ever known
To He has he ever knelt down?
Where’s his mind or his heart?
Does he have the thinking part
To heed voice of he who cry
Or pain of victims who fly??
Has he known peace or sate
From when War was his mate?
To see another in pangs of strife
Does it grant mirth to his life??
Barking Gun; ditty to his ear
Ammo. a burden worthy to bear.
Petals Of (red) Blood, his flower
For, those who cringe or cower.
Monster trembling with rage
With a trigger-crazy entourage.
He may kill, blood may spill
One day he’ll pay the Bill!
Stop, think- Trembler go Home
Prodigal Son, you’ll be welcome.
Hand of Friendship not treason
Shake while still in season....
You deserve Peace and Love,
Forgiveness from He Above
They deserve Peace and Mirth,
They don’t deserve Dearth.
Return to senses and to the fold
Get out of the Dark and the cold
Get out of the gruesome Grove
Get into the Light of Peace!
You need Him; He needs you
Divided you fall, it’s quite true.
Let mad aggression cease
Before both of you decrease!
There’s no winner with a Sabre
Or Victor with face of a cadaver
Winner of all averts an Affray
Suppressing ire on a Bad Day!
Country has trees yielding table
Sit, talk live or via the cable.
Carpenters exist to curve a chair
Sit, talk, Rebel would you dare!
• We are Poets, not Politicians. However, bear with me, oh dear Scribes, to condemn mournful events unfolding from my maternal homeland of Mozambique!
• I write with a heavy heart, despite an extended hand to dialogue in the face of the sword of Damocles menacingly hanging. Hostility and intransigence is being allowed to carry the day.
• Would I, Prometheus, (be) Unbound!
JM
06th Nov’ 2013
FEBRUARY ON WILDMOOR HEATH
Across the Heath the chill'ed land is sleeping
The cyclic pattern of seasonal life bespeaking
Bushes hunched, bare trees holding themselves still
Not restrained by death but life's farseeing will
The grasses, sedge and reeds withered dried and flaxen
Restrained soft shades of colours' rarefaction
Only holly and pine maintain pigmentation verdant
Not yet time to select a spectrum more divergent
With wisdom each life employs a cautious strategy
Not now to dare the relentless advance of entropy
They bide their time, for the moment they can delay
The ineluctable annual vernal affray
In a score of days and nights life will be stirring
The survival drive restored and action spurring
Mother Nature will awaken stretch and yawn
But for now deepest sleep is just before the dawn
Housemothers twain, swaddled in sorrel fur
And bustled skirts, walking ‘tween the parklands.
Brilliant cobalt sky, above cawing birds,
Who demand substance, with their harangue?
So the fostering queens proffer their alms.
The badelynge of ducks, on polished ice,
Lambently advance with feral affray.
As morsels of cardinal fare, entice.
The attending dames in their tender, urbane way,
Have rescued these birds from another wintry day.
I bare my authentic heart with each word I say,
Then go numb as you twist them every which way ~ ~ ~
Now the entire world weighs heavy today
And I’m too pierced to find words to pray.
My effort was for kindness to sweetly sway
Over your unfounded anger set on slay.
Now dysfunction’s heartache is on display
And I cannot locate a single, warming sunray.
I am holding tattered emotional dismay.
You must know love seeks no swordplay,
But ever constructs an endless thruway.
Blind ears tossed our blessings to mislay.
Broken and dazed by our rough affray,
I can grab no answer in this inane decay ~ ~ ~
So in silent tears, I put all on God’s stairway.
Sadly, I believe only He can create leeway.
... CayCay Jennings
February 9, 2018
With underlying arms well akimbo
Seductively they glance at each other
Smiles seasonally defined
Amidst celebration in the bed of rose
Gently they pulled their panties
Preaching to one another amidst copulation
The Bible too far from bed
Humbly replaced rubber cum metal
None was Godly alarmed
The Reason for the season ruefully undermined
Where then lies the climax
As ejaculation overtakes redemption
Who will save the saving Jesus
Lonely outstretched on the cross
Works already ongoing on the second grave
Christ Himself has run drought of blood
Where lies a candid remorse
For the pints already outpoured
Salvation has grown archaic
Wooing versus soul winning epitomize affray of the moment
How can the immoral game be refereed
The spinster is much in need of it
Gently lovely lowly she plays her wing
Who can suspend the salacious match
Time is here at hand
When Christ Himself shall arise with whistle
Showing the end of the match
And making selection for next league
Being the reason for the season
© Izunna I. Okafor 2017
Christmas is creeping in.
I’ve seen my first quality street tin.
The John Lewis advert is out
And the motorised reindeers about.
Shop windows glitter and glow,
Ladbrookes give odds on the snow,
The eyes of the new generation
Are fixed on the latest PlayStation
Mariah Carey is on every show
That pumps out from the radio.
Signs on the roundabouts point
To the nearest Christmas tree joint.
Loft ladders are let down once more
To retrieve the decs from their store
Dads swear in temper and stress
“How could the lights get in this mess ? “
Will there be any turkeys left
Or will the table look bereft ?
Must dig out the walnut cracker
And get my nails booked for a lacquer .
Christmas films on every channel
Full of righteous, festive, flannel
In which life’s drama and life’s dread
Is all made right with gingerbread.
Cinnamon taints everything
Oh Hark - the herald angels sing
But there’s little Christmas love or grace
When you cannot find a parking space.
Supermarkets fill their shelves
With stollen cakes and chocolate elves,
And blokes buy beer to stow away
That’s mostly drunk by Christmas Day.
While some begin to deck the halls
And others feast on cheese footballs
Some just sit and contemplate
How did we all get in this state ?
The days just disappear
As the Yuletide feast gets near.
The shopping list keeps growing
And there’s endless to and froing
Time to pour that glass of Sherry
Time to consult Mary Berry
To make the perfect Christmas pud
The way that only Mary could.
The pogues ring out on Christmas Eve
Shoppers bustle, wind and weave
Through busy crowds they dodge and shift
To find that perfect Christmas gift.
Carollers by the corn exchange
Suddenly come into range
Familiar carols tug the heart
With words that speak of a new start
Will Noddy Holder save the day ?
Will we escape this Yule affray ?
But don’t give up, if all else fails
You’ve got the January sales.
© Mike Miller