Best Allen Poems
Dare We Bring Poe, Raven From Darken Grave
Renewed Poets Tribute Series
Second poet, Edgar Allen Poe
Hating blade yet they are so quick to cut
in glee at dark spilled blood, yet lack the guts
walking forth with halo's, prayers said in haste
may find dark verse is neither bad, nor waste.
Remove harden anger, pie from black eyes
Life may be wishing but truth never dies
Art's true power, is in poets that are free
as birds in a magnificent bright tree.
When verse sings reality in dark tune
no cloud hides the sweetness of golden moon
when inked words are strong, so bold and so dark
poet shows Life, even if sad and stark!
We live, we boldly write, we do not cave
Dare we bring Poe, Raven from darken grave!
Robert J. Lindley, 7-30-2019
Sonnet, ( A Poet Must Write What Soul Sends, Heart Sings )
(2.)
Annabel, Do You Gaze, From Time's Ancient Skies
Annabel, you inspired words that gifted us all
Such as never before seen, on this earthen ball.
With pain and insight, Master Poe over you wept
Deepest in his broken heart, your love was there kept.
Annabel, you inspired words that gifted us all
With that blessing many have answered its great call.
As Master Poe, we came to see and understand
Life is not all rosy, sweet music from a band.
Annabel, your image now burns in poet's brains
Master Poe's love for you, tempers this world's dark stains.
Yes, our ink now wets new pages, hopes for tomorrows
As we read saddest words of Master Poe's sorrows.
Annabel, for a goddess your were in disguise.
Are you now looking at us, from Time's ancient skies?
Robert J. Lindley, 7-28-2019
Sonnet, (Twelves), (Tribute to Poe's Annabel Lee)
Syllables Per Line: 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12
Total # Syllables: 168
Note: Second poem added. 11-30-2019, previously I had forgot to add it
when first presenting this tribute to Poe...
******************
1. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Edgar-Allan-Poe
2. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edgar-allan-poe
Now 1738 there was born a man...
'name of Ethan Allen; his craw full'a sand,
Faced up to the guvenor of N Y, State..)
The green mountain boys would be part of his fate,
He took fort Ticonderoga as the hour grew late
This man of destiny; standing up to the plate,
As demands of imperial power hit nerves rubbed raw
Self-determination the watchword by tower and shore,
This flame a'burning makes its seat in their hearts
People "taxed over wars" wishing now to part,
The rest is history "how they made their stand..
Forced into conflict that led to freedom unplanned..!
A maverick Man
Tweaked by abbreviation and footnote
Copyright Joe Maverick 2012
In support of Cyndi MacMillans "Mavericks contest"
Elvin Allen
1889 – 1905
They were like iron trees!
Hundreds of them!
Poking and piercing their way into the sun-lit sky,
Like moist fingers
Testing the wind direction to the east.
I was born into this Quaker town on Bright Street.
If you take a left from Broadway ,
You will see it
Our little white house with the dormer gables
And the shaded front porch
Where dad and mom sat on hot summer afternoons
Reading the Bible
And knitting my sister’s soft sweaters for winter time.
And we all sipped cold lemonade,
In glasses that twinkled in the sun.
I loved baseball.
And I loved hiking in the hills there
To the east.
Where I hunted squirrels and jackrabbits
With my taut leather sling.
And I kissed Belva there.
Then on the day I died,
I decided to climb one of them,
One of those iron fingers,
One of those hundreds of oil derricks
That sucked black crude from the hollow ground,
There in the eastern hills.
I almost made it to the top that day,
Inching slowly slowly slowly
Up the side wooden ladder,
But I lost my footing nevertheless
And fell to my death at age 16.
And now here I rest
Waiting by this old rotting oak tree,
Here in Clark Cemetery,
Waiting for my bodily resurrection,
And thirsting, forever thirsting
For one more twinkling glass
Of mom’s cold lemonade.
Dear Sons,
Listen. Your mother and I love you. I helped plant you both through seeds of love. Your mother carried you, nurtured you inside of her body. But, You were made in His image. Beautiful and ingenious- you were shaped in it. So if adults in your lives fail to remind you with our words, God put his spirit inside your spinal cord. It can never bow down to Bel...that systemic racist entity that entices you to fail.
See through that telltale-
Walk upright in his sight. His spirit flows from your marrow to every vein. Even at this tender age, you’ve been adequately trained. A wise man once told me: “Making your mark on the world is hard. If it were easy, everybody would do it. But it's not. It takes patience, it takes commitment, and it comes with plenty of failure along the way.”
Taste the bitterness of defeat. Suck the painful, venomous hatred away from the wound when you witness Mr. Floyd’s June 4th funeral. You were probably reminded that “Some are teethed on a silver spoon, With the stars strung for a rattle.” Nevertheless, we are not black raccoons. We are royalty. We will recycle that bitterness and use it as the brine to fuel our own vessels of progress. We will not shy away from the fight.
Command your limbs to go to battle. With your hands, strengthened to fend off oppression by the skills you obtain through education and vocation. Legs swift to run towards justice, arms embracing your brothers and sisters and eyes focused on that prize of living bountiful earthly lives in preparation for eternity.
Reject Icarus. Blind ambition leads to erroneous decisions based on selfish positions.
Embrace your meteoric rise to greatness. Sky up like The Phoenix, or even Pegasus. Go All the way up and feel blessed.
Sincerely,
Your loving father who is patiently awaiting your legacy!
With one mighty swing of your forty-two ounce bat,
out of the ballpark was where the baseball was at.
A great player blessed with athletic prowess,
you made the ball travel like a nonstop express.
You were Wampum, Pennsylvania's native son.
As far as sports was concerned, you could not be outdone.
One of the Major League's feared sluggers you would be.
Many opposing pitchers became filled with anxiety.
An outstanding career was something you could claim.
I still wonder why you are not in the Hall of Fame.
Yes, you were better than many who played the game.
May you rest in peace as they will remember you name.
Dick Allen
(1942-2020)
(A collaboration I wrote with a fellow writer/poet who has not shared his work
previously but gave me permission to share now. We will call him "Allen Poe")
Who is she
I wonder where she's from
On the outside looking in
She looks really young
I wonder
Where she goes for fun
And
If she knows her smile
Can outshine the sun
I wonder
When was the last time
She made a new friend
Strictly platonic
Someone to confide in
I wonder-If she knows
Everything will be alright
I wonder
What kind of plans she has for her life
I wonder
How will she achieve
I wonder
If she believes
I wonder
What she values
I wonder
If she's true blue
I wonder
When she’s feeling weak
Do she have someone to talk 2
I WONDER......
Tag name ~ "Allen Poe"
She is
a reason to wonder
peeking in her life
would make one ponder
She is
aged beyond her 32 years
still full of wonder
nightmares and fears
She is
on the surface
polished and well put together
a wonder she hasn't tarnished
with all she's weathered
She is
a beacon of light
for her children
their life
She is
sometimes guarded and blue
many wondered why
for so long she trusted none
had no one to turn to
She is
broken yet very strong
never to allow
circumstances or wrongs
to break her drive
a wonderful wonder she's alive
She is
open-minded and free
confused about life
her destiny
consumed with pain
yet envisions victory
She is
welcoming and optimistic
sweet and true
she believes
honesty is most critical
in all you do
She is
a friend to all
though all know not
what a friend should be or do
She is a wonder
a reason to wonder
a wonder to see
I wonder if you're wondering
If “She” is me...
Lay
Edgar Allen Poe
Shocked the world with darkened prose.
To form in minds the various frights
And keep them waking through the nights.
A small man, yet standing tall,
eyeglasses so large by far.
Here with us laughter was your call,
always fiddling with your cigar.
Semi straight face, twinkle of an eye,
you told it like it was.
When God called ypu up to the sky,
someone special he took from us.
I remember your T.V. show,
you had such unique talent.
Burns and Allen we came to know,
many famous moments spent.
Talking on and on whether wrong or right,
Gracy was a gal that glowed.
An end of a special goodnight,
that was the Burns and Allen show.
One more thing to put it right,
all should come to see.
Those famous words, "Gracey say goodnight,"
and that great, "Oh God," movie.
Diamonds in the rough
Let's do us both a favor
and choose to be free
let go all insecurities
and strive for simplicity
eyes wide shut
immune to
doubt and mistrust
our very own window seat
on a passionate bus
Allen Poe
Let's share this window seat
arms entwined
souls speak
take in breathless peace
trust and serenity
admire our blissful view
the many eclectic horizons
of me and you
if only we'd trust
we would be unbreakable
Diamonds in the rough
Lay
The man is funny as hell
But is Nazism something to laugh about?
I've run into iit
Believe me it wasn't pleasent
Remeber the T.S. Eliot line "Oh you who turn to windward
Gentile or Jew
consider Phlebas who was tall and handsome as you"
Well I have considered Phlebas
and realize the story
is going to end
No one is without fault in Jewish theology
Even the mightiest of kings
I'm not without fault
Just sent $10 to the Simon Wiesenthal foundation
Hope it does some good
After sixty-six years, what remains of first love
Is just your name really, but still it lingers,
Like the fragrance of a rose petal kept in a diary.
It may seem strange to some, but I do call it love
Though we were only 1st graders, wishing on a star.
At recess you were Dale Evans
And I was Roy Rogers, as I recall,
There was a commitment of sorts for sure,
Our fantasy roles of a future adulthood
Already including both individuality and marriage,
What we knew of heart freely given.
It was clear that others wanted what we had too.
I’m sure that was part of its appeal.
I remember clearly that at least one time
You and your mother came to my house and
I proudly showed you the playhouse that
Mom and I had constructed on our front porch
Out of old appliance cartons from Dad’s store,
Their wood ribbed cardboard panels perfect
For erecting sturdy fantasy structures
That resembled a real house,
Windows and doors carved easily where desired
Using a paring knife in the softer cardboard.
I know I wanted to kiss you and think I told you,
But, I am also pretty certain that it didn’t happen.
I suspect you told your mother, for I believe it was
Your last visit, though I don’t regret wanting the kiss.
And then you just vanished from my life,
Your family moved away, to Freedom, Oklahoma,
Which was like going to the moon at our age.
I discovered this only recently from another friend
Who was also enamored of you. Know for sure that
We both hope you found freedom,
Even sixty-six years later, and still dream
That you, perhaps, think fondly of us as well.
May this poem compensate somehow for the kiss
That you and I both missed, as I honor too,
The young boy who first gave you his heart.
Brian Johnston
October 11, 2015
~Sonnet: Edgar Allen Poe
Today in history, great day you see
Not only we are celebrating MLK day,
But long ago, in a day like today;
Great poet Edgar A.Poe was born too
On a winter day to this world he came,
Both of his parents were actors,died young;
Born in Boston, great writer; poet b'came
Resided in England till few years sprung
Attended university back home 'gain,
For only a year he did it they claim;
Edgar's drinking, gambling, has seized his brain,
Back in Boston his first book, brought him fame.
His fame as great author, poet, spread wide,
In Baltimore,Edgar Allen Poe, died.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
October.28.2015
Author Notes:
The "MLK" stands for Dr. Martin Luther King's day.
Back Then...
~In your eyes love once showed~
Dilated visions of a ethical soul
~In your smile her heart did grow~
A steady tempo with a trusting flow
~In your touch passion poured~
Beyond liters of love is to feel adored
~In your arms she was home~
Feeling secure her love would never roam...
~Now... she's lost and can't find her way~
Pledged Allegiance to a heart shallow and decayed
~No longer home by your side~
Deprived from her solace in a matter of days
~Her voice not heard, pain builds inside~
Everything once given has now been taken away
~Resentment builds as love becomes a maze~
Scriptures of advice now in a haze
~Foundation crumbles on lies built~
Momentarily she stands afflicted with guilt
~She’s stricken with doubt, fear and question~
Reaching for tools to destroy yet yearning for repair
~She is in despair~
Collabo
Lay
&
"Allen Poe"
To day I am thinking
About those memorable moments
I spent during my childhood
Amid the natural surroundings of
A deep lake surrounded by a dense forest.
The forest was so tall, deep and green
With its fearing darkness some where and
It's alluring enchanting beauty every where
That it was difficult to resist visiting the forest
Almost every day.
The lake was so heavenly beautiful calm and quite
Like the quietness of the sound sleep
That I use to sit for hours watching the dancing
Fishes and water plants and mosses and the setting Sun
While dipping my feet in the friendly lake water.
Oh, the pleasure of those moments
Is still alive in my mind
Like the Daffodil’s of William Wordsworth
And it often flashes in my mind
Giving me the same pleasure and Joy
Which as a child & Youngman I had enjoyed
About forty years back.
In these forty years lot many things have changed
All around me, including the Lake of my Allen Forest
A thin Lake is still there, visible during rainy season
But without that clear water and the quietness of Sound
And the forest has no longer remained the same
As it use to be about Forty years back
When it use to fill me with the joy of it’s refreshing air
And the Music of birds, falling leaves and the sound of silence.
That old lake and that lush green forest has left a deep impression
On mind and heart giving me the blessings of solitude
And making itself immortal in the minds of those who
Had seen it in its prime beauty and greenness
I often remember the man Allen who had built his small dwelling
Surrounded by the forest near the Lake and made this forest more
Beautiful without disturbing the natural surroundings
To enjoy the Blessings of Nature in its fullness about hundred years back
I am thankful to God for giving my childhood an opportunity of
Living amid the blessings of beautiful Nature - the Allen forest, the Lake
The Patther College, and the Holy River Ganges, which still flows at a
Little distance now instead of touching the forest
As it uses to be about forty Years back.
Kanpur 5th Nov 09 Ravindra K Kapoor
Patther College is a Hindi Word means Sand Stone made building
They say my death is like a mystery, and the rest was like history. I will not die in vain because I will reign until my death. The truth will arise my words will come alive. My writings are my voice even when I'm six feet down. My poems keep me sane even when I'm in so much pain. My greatest works came to me in a dream. I dreamed that I was running in a golden field and I saw ravens filling up the clouds in an open field their eyes were dark and empty looking for someone to devour. People say that I am dark and tormented. I am just a misunderstood genius of my time. My friends and my foes want to overshadow my thoughts and my dreams. I will show them, they don't know what they are missing. I went into my favorite pub the cat's eye to have my last drink of absinthe like a sailor. My mind was in haze and I was so dazed to think I will be married within a week. Oh how I miss kissing you on the cheek my Eliza. If only I could turn back time see you one more time. You have bewitched me with your beautiful smile, and infectious laughter. Sooner or later dear I will haunt you in your dreams where I can see you again. I a true gentleman always keeps his promise and his word. My words will never die because I am Edgar Allen Poe the best writer of all time!