Best Age Of Man Poems


The River

The river.


In waves it flows and rages full;
In moonlight it slows and trickles still.
In sunshine it roars a tumultuous call.
The river flows throughout the seasons and throughout the hills.


Down in the valley, the water still runs;
At first just a drip, then a tidal wave.  Its source is unknown.
It echoes throughout the mountains as if fired from a gun;
Its voice tells the same story as it did long ago.


Its people swim freely, never knowing they are entrapped;
Beneath its surface, a civilization is formed.
It gives birth to life and also takes it back;
The river is still flowing…the sunshine is still warm.


The river was eternal, long before the age of man;
Who are we to change nature and build a dam?
Let the beaver’s beaver away and do as they must to be nourished.
Allow nature to do what is necessary and this world will flourish.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
© Aa Harvey  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Pondering Late Autumn and the Coming Chill

The golden leaves have made their show
that always comes this time of year,
but now as limbs are looking bare,
an umber blanket covers ground.

I’ve seen the harvest moon on high
as farmers reap what they have sown
when spring was warm and rains were soft,
and life was young and full of hope.

I’ve felt the greet of crisp fall morn
as dog days finally disappeared,
and seen the flair of Aster’s bloom
that softly bath in autumn sun.

But now this late November chill
as winds are blowing from the north;
the skies have turned a shade of grey
that beckons bears to hibernate.

This changing season causes me 
to pause and ponder life itself;
‘tis said it’s but a metaphor 
for time of year and age of man.

Like golden leaves, these golden years
leave barren limbs and umber grounds;
the greying hair is like the skies
of late November’s dulling hue.

And as I ponder season’s change
my thoughts have turned inside myself
to moments past and current paths,
and mulling what my future holds.

I’m wondering if I will see
the coming of another spring, 
or will my being hibernate
eternally within its tomb.


October 16, 2020
Blank verse written in iambic tetrameter

Us

Us, a term meaning together whether family or friends or total strangers.
Us, you see’ we are on the only thing that provides life, earth and all it’s dangers.
Us within an earthly circle mere thousands of miles round, and that is it.
Us, put here by God to believe in His way of “Love” and to have faith in His Holy Spirit.

Us, who have to figure a way to survive if overpopulation doesn’t do humanity in, plaques, will.
Us, who face annihilation by ravishing God’s earth while earthquakes are more frequent still.
Us, looking as predicted for the heavenly signs abound all around.
Us, who heed our Father’s will, to love Jesus is very profound.

Us, make no bones this earth concerns man more so then most know it’s all we have.
Us, all on earth who hasn’t heeded God’s laws and disobeys the “Word”. We fail to behave.
Us, who are blessed made in God’s image disobeying our Spiritual souls, continue to kill.
Us, when we should know a penalty will befall all killing everything from God’s animals to birds, killing everything on earth at will.

Us, should get that the path to God the Father is very slim.
Us, should know the prospect of not listening is our future getting to God’s Spiritual Kingdom is very dim.
Us, who do follow the “Word” say this to all my brothers’, friends and enemies alike, we have love for all and we are very vigil.
Us, together will face this great tribulation soon a time of the age of man, God promises that Jesus will return and He will not be civil.

Us, all on this planet will see a new Spiritual world with our loving God. A world changed in a blink of an eye.
Us, who will obey the Father and have love for all His creations, will be on a Spiritual high.
Us, who will no longer see things in adversity but with love,
Us, who will be blessed from our Father on high, a gift from up above.


Anwnn

Coming from the misty lake Lough Leane
Came a beautiful maiden of the name of Niamh
Upon a mare, for she is not from the world of man
A seraphic princess from Anwnn
Upon the shores she claimed around his kin
"I have came for Oisin son of Finn"
"Maiden you come to me so alluringly 
I am he, if we marry for all eternity!"

And so he rode upon her horse to the secrets of Anwnn
For he and she, they'd be happy for all eternity 

Come with me to Anwnn
I am she, your queen Niamh
I have come for you Oisin, son of Finn
Don't leave me or you'll see 
The age of man
The age of man
The age of man

The History of Fear

The History of Fear

To cite the galleries of Fear
This emotion driven here
And eons past how it began
Beginning with the age of man

To search for food without delay
Or searched for food by other prey
Fear to survive by with every day
The threat of Fear moved on in years

The Fear of God instilled by law
regarding Him with so much awe
The Inquisition, genocide
The Fear of credos other than

A peaceful atmosphere incurred
But portions of our life has stirred
Where Fear has donned a different suit
Millenials cannot compute

More mental pain, depressive straits
established egos met their fate
The Fear of coexisting with
That White is right and other myths

For  Fearless is the antonym
A new world order must exist
To love yourself without a care
Eliminate the dread of Fear

Fear Contest
Sponsored by Debbie Guzzi
August 28, 2017

Sands of Time

Sands of Time

these grains of sand passing by I find
are like the memories of lives gone past
and as these sands of time flow through my mind
I wonder when I will find the key at last

living in caves searching the heavens
fishing in streams and hunting my meals
and each morning as the sun star leavens
my mind turns like stone age wheels

a million years have come and gone
I suppose a million more will pass on by
the age of man has hardly dawn
I look up and wonder why

why am I here just what is my purpose
sometimes I feel this is such a cruel game
in this ring of a crazy circus
am I a fool should I feel some shame

some say just keeping faith is all you need 
I  think that's a hopeful guess
you cannot know from where came the seed
it is impossible to say truly yes

many before me and yet more will come
to trudge through the desert of life
the sands of time shifting beat like a drum
and we dance on to music from the fife

I can only hope that when I have gone
no one will shake their heads and say
he followed in line just like a pawn
retracing steps of another day

once again I look to the sky
ever searching for inspiration devine
feeling tears fall from my eye
tears of all mankind not just mine  
 
Gomer LePoet...


Quivering Arrows

You too would hide behind the hood                                                       if you only knew the truth                                                        How heroes where made                                                                in the naughty little Ham                                                              So let us begin the tell of Robin                                                    The quivering arrow of Sherwood                                                 Like the bird his points mostly hit the dirt                                         or how many a time friar tuck had to duck                                     and that the merry in Lincoln green’s looked                                 more like an apple dumpling gang but England                              needed fame even if they couldn’t hit a thing                               Unlike a deer stagecoaches could be stopped                                 thus introducing the true shot the woman behind the man             Hidden by the curtain the arrows sing hitting their mark                   The lady of May plays distressed and seduction does the rest          So nervous Robin feels like the Don of Nottingham                            To steal from the rich and give to the poor the plan                        Poor Marion so gifted in an age of man                                        They would have been caught more than not                                    by the Sheriff and his men if not for her true aim                              as blazing arrows hit their saddles with butts aflame                        The shaky quivering arrow gives them the slip                                Unbeknownst and it’s funny maid Marion                                         should be on the throne
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

To Be Or Not To Be

The sands of time will cover all,
   Of mankinds birth in natures womb.
   From chaos to our final fall.

   As ancient lifeforms we did crawl,
   From primeval swamp, to volcanic gloom.
   The sands of time will cover all.

   This age of man now standing tall,
   Will rule the earth, then meet his doom.
   From chaos to our final fall.

   With mans idea of peace so small,
   Our warlike race we must assume,
   The sands of time will cover all.

   Unless somehow we do recall,
   Peace keeps us safe, war will consume.
   From chaos to our final fall.

   So let us stop, and heed the call.
   For soon this earth shall be a tomb.
   The sands of time will cover all,
   From chaos to our final fall.

Premium Member Technology Really

Nation's full of devastation,
Famine and drought.
In a world full of technology,
Yet we still can't work it out.
Have we come any further
From when we lived in a cave,
From the iron age of man,
To make chains to enslave.
When people are still living
In huts made of mud,
Has all of this technology
Really done any good.


15/8/2021

Premium Member The Passing of Man

Distant clouds seem settled upon city towers bringing odd blend to nature and man. Odd in the thought for though of nature, man separates himself in his every action. Concrete and steel raised to intrude and make forceful their existence, yet nature with ages wisdom smiles with knowing smile the age of man shall pass and all his doings with him.

Musical-Moonlight Sonata

A quiet...soft resolute theme plays
The low tunes of the piano ascends.
A sequence of sound radiates, 
The tones hum...words of passion,
Reverberating...serenading a quiet night.

Echoing...deep in his prodigious soul,
In dedication to a fellow muse,
A pupil...Countess Giulietta Guicciardi.
Thoughts of her...radiates his mind,
Like the moon’s soft glow upon the night.

Against a filigree...silvery accompaniment 
His fingers voice...a covert...love from within.
A bitter...sweet acceptance of fate...resounds,
In the sonata his...heart...sadly plays.
The movement ends in the reflective mood it began

Softly...fading into the solace of night
Echoing into time and age of man...
A sad...story that only fingers could tell
Of a miserable...lonely night in Vienna 
From the isolated...soul of a dejected composer.  




____________________________________________
Ludwig van Beethoven - Piano Sonata No.14, Op.27/2
"Sonata quasi una Fantasia" ("Moonlight Sonata")

Man: Matters After Nothing

They proclaim the age of man is ending
Then listen to vision of truth that I'm sending
MAN: Matters After Nothing
Whatever they've got someone else is bound to mess it
‘Cause Einstein came with theories to save the world
They used them to destroy it.
Everyone wants it but God is the only true Intelligence
Now they lose His relevance with their mind's absence
As the presence of an emotionless universe
Being the only fiction in this verse
Now the lost are cursed to the bliss of ignorance
Where they dance to the drum beat
With the incredible noise
Laced with impossible truths from a horrible voice
You make the choice
That is you the one of the seeing blind
Or the deaf listener
Whose chose not to see the hidden transmission from the
Far vision?
Or ...

Galactic Gothic

The Age of Man
Is but a brief, abbreviated span
Of seconds ticking in a moment’s course.
Infinity: the final source
Is like a charnel house, with cypress tree
And yew and myrtle, growing in the graves of Space,
Where decomposes Time’s own face.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.

Post Truth

This is the age of - Man, I really need  a break!
This is the age, dear brother, when all the news  is fake.
The taxman just took all my cash, the dentist my last tooth,
and Santa Claus they stole away as everything's post truth.
I need imaginary money to pay the imaginary rent.
my debt to  an imaginary landlord for a room I did invent.

Accept Your Fate

Accept your fate


What time is this?
What age of man?
My body feels so broken.
What day is it?
What place is this?
I’ve nothing left to try; I have done all I could.


Who knows what will become of my life?
When I am done in, will my words remain unspoken?
We all become our mother’s daughter,
Or we become our father’s son.


As beauty fades, we seek the shade;
The sunshine is no longer attractive.
In modern times, there is money to be made,
In anything; if we are not too distracted.


The hopes of youth are not often followed through;
Such dreams are fanciful.
If you became the same as you had wished for in youth;
Would you still be so grateful?


Such ambitions are usually far-fetched;
Only realistic aims are achieved.
The fountain of youth is wasted on you;
Accept your fate and leave the next generation to grieve.


Age is just a number and your number is up.
You have lived a long and interesting life, so embrace the end.
Time is continuous;
We are not.
On this you can depend.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
© Aa Harvey  Create an image from this poem.

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