Best Allied Poems
~ for my fellow poets ~
as slaves to the pen
or our keyboard, more apt
this molding of words
in a word, holds us rapt
fine fancies or fears
take us places unknown
our muse and our craft
better focused alone
the voice of our id -
the bounce of our rhyme
thus, charming or edgy
depending the time
midst romantic puddles
and whimsical trees
we splash our ideas
casting love to the breeze
a danger or hope or
a scorched trist-or-two
occur mind-to-matter
with the lines we imbue
the light AND the dark,
they both hold allure
our child's heart within -
just a tad bit impure
for tho we adore all the
things blithe and bright
we also know beauty
blooms deep in the night
if somber or joyous
thru passage or pain
it’s creatively ordered
thru rhyme and refrain
it's not that we're allied
- that we always agree
it's how we can sculpt
all the wonders we see
so although we may be
as different as spices
we’re thrall to our verses
whatever that price is
for it's a rare language
that few can command
but we speak it together
with a pen in our hand
so you may be a person
whom I've never met
but the gift of your writing
I'll never ...
forget.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "What Do We Have In Common" Poetry Contest, Kim Rodrigues, Sponsor.
~ Poem of the Day ~ featured on Poetry Soup.com on May 11, 2018 - many thanks to those in charge for the honor.
Medicine Hat Appaloosa
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remember free will too has been gifted,
with freedom allied to fate's fickle choice.
Tendered words uttered still..now uplifted,
God provides each one a life and a voice.
Ere life ebbs and scrimshaw scrolled hands beckon,
find strength in Medicine Hat horse's paint.
Flesh prized and spirit bold, yet to reckon,
respectful head bowed, pray it isn't too late.
Of sarcasm's sharp sword, one can ill afford,
cursed hubris' price which is never repaid.
The cost of soul's vows torn in broken chord,
word's sting or solemn praised tapestry made.
To cheat one's own heart with standard-less staff,
turned now to stone, to write lone epitaph.
Poet's note: The Medicine Hat Appaloosa is the poem.
Quoth TheRaven - 7 July 2019
N ever again will the Tribes of Israel be the sacrificial lamb of man.
A nnealed in furnaces not in Olam HaEmet by the Almighty "the World of Truth."
Z ealots rose from the ashes of the ovens and now defend like Sicarii of old.
I srael blooms and grows in the desert, returned by Allied Forces to the cauldron.
H ome to the Holy Land, sent, shipped, caste surrounded by Arab foe, isolated.
O vens melted their hearts, striped their forms for their souls held no intrinsic value.
L ampshades and shoes made from their skin, jewelry from the gold in their teeth.
O rders given by The Third Reich obeyed without conscious. The herd was culled.
C hrist-killer the Christian mind said, devil worshiper, their deaths were acceptable.
A nti-Semitism always has been and always will be a threat to Jews everywhere.
U nited, Jews must form a majority in Israel, so Jews everywhere feel safe.
S anctuary will never again being denied, Israel will be safe haven from persecution.
T o a future where all men have worth regardless of race, creed or religion, pray.
*Thanks to Arild Andresen Ertsland for his inspiring
From the Ashes
Marquees are bright with neon lights, where crowds line up for movie night
Holding hands, we're in 'The Strand'. The velvet carpet guides us in
Popcorn smokes, .. we're drinking cokes,... and cracking jokes with Bing and Hope
Lamour's along with more sarongs,... , her luscious lips, and cigarettes,
She fills ashtrays with smoking tips, and tosses guys like poker chips
'Movietone' intrudes with news, and soon we're in somber mood
Third-Reich goosesteps march again, ... an evil presence in the wind...
Cary Grant , (a news reporter), loves his girl, and his typewriter
"His Girl Friday", plot is witty, sometimes crazy. But Cary loves this ditzy lady....
William Powell and Mryna Loy..., Asta barks, and finds a toy, ...a ploy? a clue?,....
...an earring gold. The mystery is clearly solved.-- A crimson sun, is rising cold!
Movietone in black and white,... graphic scenes, where soldiers die
Another night, suspense on chart. 'Correspondent' , Joel McCrea.
Saves Lorraine, and claims the Day. BUY WAR BONDs !! They'll pave the way
Bogart, Bergman bring to light, a valiant flght , within their grasp
Airline ticket, in her hand, they must part, and do what's right, no questions asked
----
It's movie night, but you aren't here, a troopship took you far from here
Allied troops are moving tanks. I wait for you..God give me strength
I'm in the Strand, within the dark, there's no one here to hold my hand
I'm all alone...........I heard the news....................You left it all in Anzio
_____________________________________
For Contest Chopped III Sponsored by Craig Cornish
11/23/14
Krummes Holz gibt auch gerades Feuer
Crooked logs make straight fires [Work with what you have.]
Downcast eyes scan; the larger fear’s in deeds.
Germany thrives on the allied dollar
having culled the herd; they bank euro collared.
I, remnant of the tribe of David, take heed.
Full, again, of pride, the German strides
bold as brass across the pristine Alpine
scene, offering migrant shelter in line
with its own future needs as need coincides.
Who will be the tinder, the next confined
and the fly to the spider’s gruesome tale.
Prominence ignites dominance, the grail
binds with the golden eagle enshrined; it blinds,
yet, how few the choices, the wretched wail;
the tempted homeless yearn within the gale.
Published by Page & Spine 2016
Lili Marlene
In times of war, love can subdue cynical adversaries
(Men separated from their vocation, now filled with hatred)
And quell the beast inside their misdirected hearts,
And free their consciences, to allow sorrows’ comfort.
A noisy silence pervades the barracks’ atmosphere,
Where soldiers stir, stuffing duffel bags and miscellaneous,
While others reminisce, writing letters; maybe their last.
And await further orders for Western and Eastern Fronts, or Africa.
From Belgrade, a woman’s voice over the airwaves is transmitted,
Allowing a moment of silence and reflection for those listening
Alone; spiritually uplifted in memories of better times,
Who seek a reason to justify this madness of sacrifice.
“My Dearest Marlene,” the pen begins when all hell breaks out.
By bomb flashes bright bloody hands write, then the pen stops;
“Until we meet again underneath the corner light,
Like we used to do, my Lili Marlene.”
***
Note:
'Lili Marlene' is a German love poem set to music by Norbert Schultze (1911-2002) in 1938 based on the poem 'The Song of a Young Soldier On Watch. written by Hans Leip (1893-1963) in 1915 during World War I. The song was first recorded by Lala Andersen (1905-1972) in 1939 under the title 'The Girl Under the Lamps”' which became popular during World War II (1939-1945) among the Axis and Allied troops. The song was first broadcasted by the German Radio Belgrade station throughout Europe and North Africa, following the Nazi occupation of Belgrade in 1941.
Marlene Dietrich (1901–1992) was the daughter of a Prussian officer. She refused to work in Nazi Germany, and was branded a traitor by Nazi supporters when she became an American citizen in 1937. She made over 500 performances entertaining Allied troops from 1943 to 1946. Marlene Dietrich recorded the song in 1944 under the Decca Records (US) and Brunswick Records (UK), which was later released in 1945.
Four-score years ago, the youth of Allied Armies stormed Normandy's shore;
Men in the December of their years returned today recalling the gore of war.
They wept at comrades graves who freely gave their all on that crimson strand;
Heros reaped by the Scythe of Death to ensure that freedom would yet stand.
Old men wept as the dulcet notes of Taps was played,
And rendered smart salutes as Old Glory was displayed!
Many of the veterans leaned on canes to guide their stride;
Others in wheel-chairs were helped by guides to ease their ride.
Gnarled hands that once held the fearsome weapons of war,
Beckon for peace that we shall know war nevermore!
Upon the plain above Omaha Beach lie 9000 buddies they mourn,
Who await Gabriel's clarion bugle call on that Triumphant Morn!
The glistening sand that once was stained by a hero's blood,
Is now cleansed by the ebb and flow of decades of tidal flood.
The beach that once resounded with the cannon's roar,
Now trembles with the booming surf rushing to the shore!
The hardships these gallant men suffered, we shall never know;
So much, so very much, to this Great Generation we owe!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
The longing for beloved, like a moth longing for flame,
extinguishing it's own fire, admiring it's own pain,
with the bejeweled beauty of stars and moonlight
I find you engulfed in the scent of my unforgiving plight.
The damage your absence did has never been aided,
the scars I have been carrying have never faded.
Your body might be aligned with roses and dust
but I'm still holding onto the blade of proses and lust.
The deeper it cut, the better it turn me into pieces,
for a poor, vulnerable, tortured soul, only left in traces.
Since centuries, conspiracies against you have allied with dove,
agony, misery, calvary, woe, curse, they say, but I opt for love.
At
Dunkirk,
where thousands
of stranded men
lined a bloody beach,
hope was draining with each
air strike delivered by the
unrelenting Germans’ aircraft.
Cold, starved, and injured men watched from shore -
their few rescue ships being bombed and sunk.
How must they have felt knowing their homeland
was so close – and yet so far away?
Horrific days passed when at last
brave civilians came with boats,
so it was that ten times
the number of those
not expected
to live were
instead -
SAVED.
Aug. 16, 2017: Double Etheree written for
JPContest 6: WAR AND HEROISM Contest
From Wikipedia:
The Dunkirk evacuation, code-named Operation Dynamo and also known as the Miracle of Dunkirk, was the evacuation of Allied soldiers during World War II from the beaches and harbour of Dunkirk, in the north of France, between 26 May and 4 June 1940.
The operation commenced after large numbers of British, French, and Belgian troops were cut off and surrounded by German troops during the Battle of France. In a speech to the House of Commons, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill called this "a colossal military disaster", saying "the whole root and core and brain of the British Army" had been stranded at Dunkirk and seemed about to perish or be captured.
On the first day only 7,669 men were evacuated, but by the end of the eighth day, 338,226 soldiers had been rescued by a hastily assembled fleet of over 800 boats. Many troops were able to embark from the harbour's protective mole onto 39 destroyers of the British Royal Navy, 4 Royal Canadian Navy destroyers,] and civilian merchant ships, while others had to wade out from the beaches, waiting for hours in shoulder-deep water. Some were ferried to the larger ships by what came to be known as the little ships of Dunkirk, a flotilla of hundreds of merchant marine boats, fishing boats, pleasure craft, yachts, and lifeboats called into service from Britain. In his We shall fight on the beaches speech on 4 June, Churchill hailed their rescue as a "miracle of deliverance".
Joan of Arc
HE speaks, and messengers appear
To innocence of one so young in year
The calling understood, she will not flee
Till France is free of English tyranny
The struggle long, a hundred years or more
An army tired, sapped of strength by war
She steps into the fray, new hope, inspire
Her words believed, the lighting of the fire
Hoorah, the trepid siege of Orleans broken
Triumphant Gaules their spirit now awoken
Battle proved, proud see her banner fly
On to the capital, her new war cry
Though the king be doubtful to her power
Sanctioned he, and blessed her of the hour
There, before the gates and walls so tall
Defending well, Paris refused to fall
Defeated, wounded, weary, drawn, down
Undone, alone, rejected by the crown
Falls into allied hands when out at large
Imprisoned to be tried, on falsehood charge
Religious order sent to set out court
To seek and force the answer that was sort
She, unwavering in her self belief
Her story standing gave them no relief
A minister dispatched to find (his) truth
Then shout her heresy from every roof
A thousand times the question fills her ear
A thousand times she answers without fear
Time was never going to be her friend
None came in aid or cared her to defend
Sent forth to burn in blazing execution
Inglorious was her perfect persecution
True to HIM her love would not betray
For HIM, at the stake, her life she lay
The passing years, gave her soul release
St Joan, now rests in reverence and peace.
Is it possible to envision a world without warfare?
"Nothing to kill or die for."* No dangers to ensnare.
Imagine living in harmony, where no one does wrong.
There'd no longer be the need to sing Lennon's song.
Imagine a peaceful planet, whirling about in space.
Can you see yourself as part of a new human race?
Sharing everything without need for avarice or greed.
No countries or rulers, for mankind shares one creed.
Can you imagine no hunger, nor plagues bringing death?
Living among each other on Earth and taking a breath
without toxins polluting the air, and no need to pop a pill.
"I wonder if you can,"* see a world sans weapons that kill.
It's 'a brotherhood of man'* coalesced in complete unity,
Earth, an allied planet, lands filled with golden opportunity.
All totally cognizant that coexistence is worth striving for.
'Imagine,' known as a foreshadowing of what was in store.
Perhaps that Utopian way of life exists only in a dream,
But what if Lennon's lyrics did not seem to be extreme?
Would his visions of tomorrow still be called 'hyperbole?'
Til then, mortality of all earthborn remains a sad reality.
May 31, 2022
Unity Consciousness Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
*Lyrics from 'Imagine' by John Lennon
Some came by air
Some came by sea
They fought and died
So we could be free
The 6th of June 1944
Normandy a place in France
Operation Overlord or Neptune
Thousands took their last stance
Parachutists and gliders and
boats of all size
Thousands of soldiers met their demise
156,115 allied soldiers took part this way
75 years ago on D DAY
The beaches to name a few were called
Omaha, Utah, Juno and Sword
The largest allied beach invasion to date
So many died because of fate
10,500 allied casualties in one day
Fought for our freedom all I can say
Respect, hats of sir where it's due
I and others will remember you
REMEMBER RESPECT
A lane alone
A look alike
A lift aloft
A love alive
A luau aloha
A load allied
A laugh aloof
A lode allude
A lore allure
A loan align
A lodge allege
A lobo alibi
A law allow
A loss alas
A lane alone
February 12, 1995
Submitted to contest: Choose A Topic – D, Heartbreak and Loss
Sponsor: Russell Sivey
Against the sea or ocean tide,
with poetry and pen allied,
I found the water muse inspires
every word the hand requires.
How winsome is her rustic art
that from recesses of the heart,
bring well-established syllables
and the flow of countless ripples?
By gaping river's open mouth,
she'll end the wordlessness of drought
and as the poets' voice is heard,
she'll sail on his dramatic word
then drift into those wordless streams
on metered verse and rhyming schemes
until each one who ever wrote
has cast their work of art afloat!
In the voyage of life when we set sail
Let patience allied with perseverance
Be the bacon light for us to avail
In the warm summer of exuberance
As in the wild, wobbling winter of gloom
When wilful wintry winds whirl us to doom;
When whooping waves waft the frame of our boat
Let's not give way to shadows of despair,
But hold on steadfast and keep on afloat;
When stormy gusts try our sails to lay bare
Let's brace ourselves with power of the will
And determination as a firm shield.
Let's not try to touch the sky at a stretch
As we may never meet the horizon,
Let's not try heaven to reach at a breath
As we may tumble in the ocean,
Let's move on step by step as the clock's chime,
Sail on steadily, a knot at a time.
Patience is a gift bestowed by the Lord
A balm that soothes the soreness of stress
A precious jewel seemly to afford,
And perseverance the key to success
The spirit that drives man to sail ahead,
The essence of efforts that are sacred.
When setting sail on an unknown voyage
It's fitting to have faith in the dIvine,
Who escorts our steps at every life's stage
Ever guides our path across space and time
With patience to earn the Lord's sublime grace
And with perseverance to win the race.