Best Amazons Poems
I smile to myself that a robot just told me off
Do you have an Alexa?
Or an Amazon?
These are virtual companions
That can
Wake you up
Tell you the weather
Play music
Or white noise
Tell you jokes
Keep you company
You can ask questions
And she will answer most of them
We have Alexa’s and Amazons
all over the house
an Alexa just said
Alarm was not set to me
In an I- know-more-than-you will-ever-know-voice
A few minutes ago
Making me smile
Told off by a snotty robot
More than a robot
A true friend
Lazy Summer Day
Forget the beads of sweat running down your face
The thousands of pests that occasionally invade your space,
The salty stinging sensation in your eyes
Just enjoy this weather and the weathermans lies.
Its only the sun we crave when we go abroad
Close your eyes, relax and totally absorb
Now i'm no sun slave, although this poem may deceive
I shall always use sun block...or i'll burn...and eventually peel!
As i try to relax and survey for my pollinators to save the worlds bees, the ozone layer and Amazons trees,
Amidst the peace a bee tentatively circles the lavender
But whats that noise, the bee is distracted.....
Its Geoff next door with his orbital sander!
The nearby sound of a remote control car
Not a child in sight but two men in their fifties is quite bizarre,
A nosey neighbour is out and pretends to polish car lights
Investigating the noise and this curious site!
Our first decent summer in over 3 years
The ice cream arrives selling its wares,
'If you go down to the woods today' or 'Match of the day' calls
As the rush gathers pace for 99s and screwballs!
Lets have a coke and a smile and enjoy the large current bun,
Have a read, do a puzzle
For soon we"ll be grumbling,
With the arrival of Autumn!
Copyright
S Rose
Niagara, the Antiope* of Canada,
Amazonian*, but not breast less,
Snowy bosom like virginal gems,
Swelling lips moderately full,
Savoury odor felt all around,
Crystalline throat striking the eyes.
Meandering, churning, darting, dashing,
Transformed from blonde to brunette.
Here alluring, benign, attenuated,
There corpulent, colossal, capering,
Practicing calisthenics all the time.
Raquel Welch* in ‘One Million Years B.C.’*
Wily Cleopatra, the Scythian of Ordzhonikidze*,
Carnal Marilyn, matured Helen of Troy,
Venus in Aries*, Mars in Pisces*.
Broad bellied, middle-aged, deep,
Now bulging belle of Detroit*,
Encircling the wooing Windsor*,
Yet the Blithe spirit of *Pelee Island.
===========================
*Antiope is a figure from Greek mythology. She was the only Amazon
known to have married. Daughter of Ares and sister to
Melanippe and Hippolyte.
*The Amazons (Greek: ?µa???e?, Amazónes, singular ?µa???, Amazon)
are a nation of all-female warriors in Classical and Greek mythology. ...
These warrior women is said to have one or no breasts
*Scythian noblewoman, 4th century BC The women's tombs found
near Ordzhonikidze yielded several examples of war-gear for women
warriors.
Name of the actress-" One Million years B.C." name of the Hollywood movie
*Venus in Aries and Mars in Pisces (It is astrological interpretations
for beauty and Strength respectively)
*Pelee Island where three oceans meet in ONT-Canada
=================================================
Seventh Place win in:
Contest: Free Your Mind sponsored by Chris Aechtner
Invisible figures moving in the mists of time,
Hidden female phantoms, masters of the wilderness
Wild, blending in as chameleons, they are the unseen.
Legend's cryptic tribe.
Maidens veiled beneath mysteries coverlet’s of beauty,
Vanishing, as if a vapors mystic dream, created by ancient
Historic mythology.
But nay the Amazons, were fierce fighting warriors,
Battle hardened women, whom lived by the basic instincts.
Of survival and honor.
Unbridled by the whims of society, no chains bondage,
Could restrain their desire to be free from mans law.
Liberation's winds moistened their lips, and inflated
The lungs of these warrior women.
Nomads raised on the theology, that man are inferior creatures,
To be used as beasts of burden, or at leisure’s pleasure,
Nothing more.
Skilled in the art of war, renowned for courage’s
Unyielding voracity, armored maidens of legend,
And for raw endurance’s strength of will.
Blow the golden horn of victory's challenge,
As the ancient archer thus thread's her bow,
In anticipation of the battle to begin.
Drawn swords at the ready, do you not
Hear their ancestral cry to arms, take
No prisoners alive.
Shield maidens whom answer to know man,
But only the Gods themselves,
Behold they are the Amazons.
Shoulder to shoulder, and back to back,
Shields raised glistening in the sun.
The battle lines are drawn in history,
A fierce fighting force by all accounts
Renowned, to legacy's ancient passage,
For all women to be proud of generations
Forward to come, remember their battle hymn.
Freedom sisters, can you not taste it's
Flavor of liberation, carried on destiny's
Four winds, I'll raise my cup in tributes
Honor unto them, known as the Amazons.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
As parents we just love to hear
our baby say their first word
But in this technological age
I’ve just read something absurd
I love to hear babies babbling
But will this news story vex ‘ya’
The baby didn’t say mama or dada
Its very first word was ALEXA!
Are the parents just seeking notoriety ...
Or is this a poor reflection on today’s society
Poem inspired by this news story
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5803039/Mothers-shock-baby-sons-word-Alexa-Amazons-personal-assistant.html
6/5/18
By The River.
At the estuary of the Amazons the water is muddy and shallow and
there are no undercover bosses, pretending to be one of the people
who live in houses on stilts on the small islands where the river
meets the sea, blends and loses its power; for those who have sailed
the oceans no river is big. On the delta, of the great river, live people
who get their income from fishing they are poor yet free from prying
bosses those who buy the river and the sea for exploitation and make
people into low paid worker; destitution without pride.
Every group of houses on the islands have a shop that sells sweets,
cigarettes and Coca Cola, the fisherman smokes, children drink cola,
America´s cultural export reaches every corner of our cerulean orb,
Camel is a brand not an animal, Winston is a night riding cowboy.
This means nothing for the people here, who try to catch the Boto,
(pink river dolphin) which is rich in protein and tastes good.
I have been here, the touch of the rose petals under my feet...The drink of lotus wine, adorned in white lien and gold... Behind the veils , in the temples of Abydos ... The scenes replay.... Flicking like wish candles in the whirling winds.. Scents of Myrrh ascend, as the priestess chants, spells of love... Amazons rides the waves of sand....
I have been here, welding the sword on the battlefield of Mongols ... Under the thunderous hooves horses, salty blood flowed, in glory and valor of, Genghis Khan..
I have been here, crystalline Kama Sutra, frozen in time.. The of dance of creation.. The Tantric courtesan spreads her sensuous legs, in service to the Ruby Maharaja....
I have been here, young crippled boy, holding the banner of atonement.. As he limps in procession of saffron cloaked Buddhist monks...
I have been here, full circle.. Cleansing the lives ,the field ,the heart, in the truest core of being.. The Web ebbs and flows... Earth Bound again, the cycle of life continues...
may flowers are still beautiful
taking their resolute resolve
to shoot out
to sprout with
ever-new life
they come
home in beautiful colours
like weaver-birds
on the ancient trees
all the clan claps & sings
new songs -
the elders entoning
with tongues of new speeches
new speeches of old wisdom -
oh, come, behold their signets
her may flowers
seeking within these chambers
the merry maidens
of my niger
& her long-acclaimed drummers
whose red-caps were capped
upon old eagle-feathers
that made her clansmen
celebrate her appearance
like mbari dancers, our amazons
of years gone with the ancients
or the swahili dancers
from the east
& the matebele warriors
from the south -
for:
all the clan did clap & sing
new songs
of years a-gone with the ancients.
Destiny demands that we be the debtor
that we sacrafice for the skin of our future,
We left the cradle of the Caucasuses to explore,
to plant the dreams of our Creator,
venturing into the virgin chaos
where the tiger tears apart the trespasser
We made the way, we made love with our Cause,
following the highway of the emerald pasture
from the Euxine to the shimmer of the Yellow Sea
finding war and wealth in the weight of adventure
subduing savages with frightening ferocity
managing frontiers with a proud mercy,
leaving behind our blood's legacy
trading safety for salt, vanity for victory,
Trading safety for salt, vanity for victory
coming home to the Black Sea
introducing steel smelting and a taste for head hunting,
scalping Cimmerians with glee
assailing the Assyrians
extorting Egyptians
respected by Hellenes
dominating Asiatic Indians
cabletowing Celts
and pouncing on Persians,
Phoenicians filled their boats
with exotic Scythian goods,
We were collectors of civilised throats,
our empire needs no roads
Our empire needs no roads,
Saka, Sauromatae, Massagatae, Tocharians, Scythians
We are One, ancient craftsmen and warlords,
our women were the Amazons
Cauterized breast and soldier slayers
Tomyris taught Cyrus
that bloodbaths belong to the losers,
the Scythian wilderness of war jeered Darius,
Zopyrion was made carrion
Alexander wisely just carried on,
to the Romans we were Sarmatian and Hun
Scythes being ancestors to the Gothic Confederation,
a culture canvassing the breadth of all civilization
migrating ever westward into the echo of the sun,
Migrating ever westward into the echo of the sun
bringing our wagons, warcraft, and women
custom of the blood oath quietly open
the wine, and honest blood spun
the two of us swearing in between a lifelong stare
will you be there
when I'm scared,
will you care
when death is there,
will you wait for me
when the war barks near,
will you honor me
when the fire becomes just a whisper,
our oath is our soul keeping
J.A.B. 2020
my full hunter-starred father
with your priesthood
seated upon this deep-set
chambers of the niger
we doff our feathered caps
for the ecstasies of your drums -
oh, where did mother's raw zeal for
the sun-burnt dances come from?
we salute the legions of wild-life
taken home alive by the naked hands
for the voice of lions roared
from your inner-most courts
while we were called babes –
we still remember the ape-skins
that told of the valour of the chief huntress
the mother of the amazons
your history-sung daughters of your stead -
for the raw gold-crown upon your head
father of the amazons
we call out the drums to celebrate!
for you who stood spear-to-spear
with half-human and half-spirit kings
we call out the drums to celebrate!
for you who decked your off-springs
with diamonds and starry crowns
we call out the drums to celebrate!
The sky is cracked tonight. The moon slips through and the clouds dance across her slender back. I’m hunkered down here for the night in an arroyo filled with pain and I wait for her.
Knowing she will never come. My fingers lift the sand and I let it pass between them thinking about time, time that runs out. We are all just passing through this place. But I keep waiting for the sun to cry and the crow to fly. My passion has no anger. I lost it a long time ago on an island filled with Amazons.
I see myself walking and turn around and face my shadow to see if it knows me. It’s always there even at night. It just doesn’t show itself. Scared of the dark it trembles at the light.
I crawl up the canyon wall, rocks and dirt crumbling and falling to the floor on this lonely place I have brought upon myself. Sometimes I wish that I could bend but I’m the other kind.
Someone told me once that if you’re in a hole stop digging.
I’m not digging I’m climbing towards a light that doesn’t exist. Even a dog has it day.
Tomorrow perhaps I will have mine.
oh, ever-young face in dazzling smiles
ah, golden mother of potent nigers
thine lads are swimming in new rivers
yea, mother of the dark amazons
thine maidens are dancing by the forests
there the lions lie down calm & toothless
beside the indulgence of forceful goats
the leopards are full-fury of pensive looks
their snail-moves & failing temperaments
ah, golden mother of potent nigers
sweep, not, mother - niger’s not at ease?
Remember me my
friends,
when the trees bask
with delights
when the waves whack
the rock
when the fair
weather whispers.
Then know am close
and I need a touch
Remember me my foe
The stainless
pathway of our duel
the ravaging rift of
our skin
the cries of each
blooded strikes
when the deep
ancient scars nipped
Then know this my
foe
That am close by
and I need to strike
Remember me now
When the corona
strikes the amazons
As the Halloween
nights of lust
Where all spasms
are expelled
Like a vintage
tornado rocket
With a wild cry of
exoticism
Shrilled with a
chilly blast
Then know this now
That am the next
bang
Remember me always
When the birds bask
on trees,
the wagtail screw
for hideout,
like when whirlpool
whirls
as the wader wades
the mud
like a dancing night
ecstasy
then know am close
and I need a mate
Remember me often
times
When the waves rip
its lungs
When the breeze
whispers eastwards
When the cockerel
clown its crown
as she announces the
morning post,
Remember me always
Oh my memories
Oh my victories
Oh my footed armies
of duels
My believes untapped
My hopes unleashed
My lust exorcised
My greed farced
My shame eclipsed
among the stars
And my humility
nailed to oblivion.
Remember me again.
My love that floats
the bud
My hate that holds
the hades
My dreams that
torment me
My grief that frill
my final abode
My pains that sprout
my exits
My cries that echoes
to abyss
Remember me for ever
My hands that grief
with sadness
Unleashed your paw,
frittered me with
your pegs,
defiled my
defenseless dune,
snatch my unborn
from the cradle
erase the face of my
returns
close the torches of
my paths.
That my breathless
veins
rise no more
But remember
My flights now
My battles
My pains
My fears
Remember my
goodbyes,
then I live again.
Written by Benny
Isibor
ah! ’tis blue azure greet’ng the dark maidens
dancers of the ancient drums of my warriors
yea! the ever-ready danc’ng mbari maidens
o, dancers amid the smooth-throat’d hunters –
’tis like an ever-flow’ng rhythmic drumm’ng
of my ageless clan where the rever’d eaglets
made the classic olympia in wing-drumm’ng
amid the love-rov’ng griots, pages and priests!
and your mother – the mother of the amazons
waits, waist-bent, amid the ev’r-wait’ng gray-hairs –
and your hunters naked, ready-pois’d with guns
and panthers snarled under the scorch’ng sun-rays;
o, the gladiators and amazons came along my banks
ah, bring’ng this eternal dance-step to niger’s banks!
1
It's sad, the fad, to genderize Our Maker:
Amazons aside, History made men Movers, Shakers
But is it dad's fault, the sin of God?
2.
I will trust the Jesus account; He showed "Abba"
The Father whom He enjoyed communion with!
But before Jesus, Jews whispered YHWH
3.
Don't take it for granted; Matthew 6: Jesus's prayer
"Our Father in Heaven," not Mine alone, the Saviour
Wants equality and "siblings." Please read John 15
NOTE: Before Jesus walked this Earth and taught, Judaism taught God's name was so sacred, one could use only THE TETRAGRAMMATON or the 4 letters YHWH, to designate Him. Jesus called God not majestic judge Jehovah, but ABBA, or "daddy" in Hebrew and left us The Lord's prayer, beginning "Our Father."