Best Ancient Poems
I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow,
You carried burdens then; you see them now.
You’ve heard the cries your people who in pain,
Have shed their tears two hundred years like rain.
Your sad brown eyes, reflecting now the sky
I see the wings of eagles flying by
Beside you stands an Appaloosa mare
Her spirit one with you now over there.
You hear the drums, they bid you to come near,
Your spirit drawn the beats they ring so clear.
Song like prayers are chanted through the night,
Calling you come, and help them end their plight.
You’ve heard sad cries and now stand at their side,
You join the prayers with both arms open wide,
United spirits sing until the dawn,
When in the fire’s flames a golden fawn.
Remembering a smile crosses your face,
When tribes were one with Mother Nature’s grace.
The lakes and streams flowing with waters clear,
Flow sadly now, the planet lives in fear.
The weightless feathers that adorn your head
Your tribes grey future weighed you down instead.
Now breathing deep you smell the winds of change
While here on earth your people rearrange.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.21.2014
Giorgio A.V. Contest
Iambic Pentameter
1st place
Charcoal black tip of arrowhead,
among these ancient, stones - stained red
Heartbeats share rhythms of ghostly drums..
Winds carry haunting, chanting hums
I feel your blood, flow here with mine,
outlasting, even decaying time
I've been told the stories, told to you,
I know we're just spirits, passing through
When thunder, shakes awake the night,
I vision warriors by firelight
Their voices echo, around mountain's soul,
while moon and stars watch us below
Respect the sky, and mother earth,
borrow the beauty, from time of birth
Then give in death peacefully
yourself, to rest eternally
Among these ancient, stones - stained red,
my mirror reflects traces, of those long...........
remembered.......
©Donna Jones
11-8-2013
Take me to the place where the aromatic fragrance
threatens to envelop our obelisks glorifying death;
to the place where the seraphim of old long to steal your breath
only to resurrect you again,
because they adore your shell-shocked epiphany.
The twinkle of wisteria eyes that say star-struck goodbyes to winters long overdue.
Take me to some place new, yet still lingers with the scent of timeless truths.
Can you whisper epigrams in my ears yet still retain your sunflower youth?
And can such a place even exist ...
where I am me and you are you.
Is this dream of ours only a selfish wish?
Where our heart's desires
will never transpire,
but only take cues from Lazarus,
coming into our own like lilac lust.
I am told there is a beautiful gate
that leads to this tomb of ancient bloom.
Will you let me nourish this timid trust
and receive this skeleton key that dreams of wearing skin -
and if not now, of this would-be genesis ... when?
Please don't tease with someday soon,
but let these tumblers unhinge like zealous zephyr.
I know it will be all that you asked.
I know it will be, for my soul spoke so earnestly: give it a chance.
So won't you carve upon this granite heart
that longs for the easy rain of your embrace.
Etch upon these alabaster walls with love's italic hand,
the seven lettered splendor known unabashedly as FREEDOM.
Let it be the only thing
the angels care to dream,
when imagining eternity.
Let none atone
the only thing
set in stone.
Written February 15th, 2016.
Entered in the contest A Tomb of Ancient Bloom hosted by Justin Bordner.
Chosen Poem of the Day on February 17th, 2016
Placed First
I can still recall the look upon His face
Each thought still makes me go to that enchanting place
The vernal air was floral sweet and honey breezed
We roamed along Venice's zigzagged lanes and cobbled streets
On our secret rendezvous,We hugged affectionately under pastel gothic galleries
Greeted by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed roast coffee beans
Strolling along the pigeon-filled piazza San Marco
We wandered hand in hand,in the serenissima ancient floating land
Street musicians played their flutes.as We sat on a roof-top wooden terrace
We glanced at merchants sell hand-blown murano glass
by the picturesque Doge's palace
We ate a snack , then walked away towards the old opera house
which now has risen from its ashes.
We sauntered forward through little alleys
from where He bought me ,a gold painted venetian mask
To my surprise ,He had another gift,a wrapped up scarlet sheer laced basque
I peered at him through my dark lashes,He raised his left brow and flashed a smile
Expressed his charm in playful ways,in a flirtatious endearing style.
Boarded at last on a black gondola,cruised the lagoon and the canals
A few light kisses,a few soft brushes,waiting the bell's toll whilst in his arms
There we lay in waiting beneath the bridge of sighs
We sealed our kiss and promised lips,to the harmonic sound of chimes
He leaned on me,I welcomed Him,our spirits been entwined
Above,the sky has changed its colour,I watched the sun set in his eyes
All I am,I gave to him,my enduring heart- His sacred shrine
All that He is He gave to me in once upon a time
Not for the contest,but thanks for the 'Lovemaking in an ancient place contest,inspiration'.
This post is inspired by Ancient Venice and the tale of 'The Bridge Of Sighs'
The tale goes-If you kiss your loved one with the bell's toll of St,Mark's Basilica,
at sunset,beneath the bridge of sighs,the couple seals their love forever.
There is another tale to it,a sad one,but preferred to share the happy one : )
my chief ...
thoughts go back to that again -
the day you found me on the plain
so bleeding from a musket wound
and dying, slow, with fear and pain
my own kind left me there to die
to not waste cares for such as I
an orphan white boy, still a child
with troubled heart, I won't deny
yet, you did lend me mercy then
with no concern of who I'd been
and raised me like your very own
to learn the ways of Tlingit men
my course has not been easy life
more basic, yes, but hardship rife
and still, my gut and heart are full
midst joys of family, food and wife
and now I watch this poignant fire
of sparking cinders, drifting higher
while tribe and I conduct you home
all dancing ‘round this funeral pyre
each flaming ember turns the thief
and steals you off, my father, chief
o sad, to but command the flames
and scorch away my crushing grief
and yet, as each one climbs on high
those precious mem’ries, you and I
are borne the heavens, ever-bright
and placed as stars …
upon the sky.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Tribute To Native Culture" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.
I am very pleased to present a fourth collaboration, this time in rhyme
with my dear friend Lawrence Sharp, a truly exceptional poet.
.
Thank you, Lawrence, for your great inspiration
and ongoing fellowship.
Ancient Hero, Firm And Honorable Til Death
Twas not roses painted bright red upon his shield
he that with great courage refused to ever yield;
with beating heart and full faith in his saving God
slayed monstrous beasts, going where only heroes trod
with no complaint of hardest sacrifices made,
he gave back no ground and bright red-blood wet his blade.
Family crest of roses and red bird of prey.
Its motto, 'True to our beloved God we stay'.
Decades flown by, great battles fought under red sun
bravery gave strength to finish what was begun;
strongest spirit with true soul to match and hold true
to the solemn vows and painful costs surely due
his right arm, servant of Light, Truth and Divine God,
with love of family and his faith, his firm rod.
Family crest of roses and red bird of prey.
Its motto, 'True to our beloved God we stay.'
War's end, dusk of last decade under cloud's cover
would be pride and pain greatest to lifelong lover;
fiercest and most wicked was the very last foe,
The Serpent King blithely cast gods and angels low;
most prized the triumph or most abject the defeat,
in driving rain the greatest challenge he would meet.
Family crest of roses and red bird of prey.
Its motto, 'True to our beloved God we stay'.
Unclean was the battle and untold was its cost,
lives of men and monsters were sacrificed, not lost;
The Ancient Hero stood and faced The Serpent King,
final bloody battle he knew would bring death's sting;
perished with his bane, war's demons and gods destroyed,
mightiest foe with him he took into the void.
Family crest of roses and red bird of prey.
Its motto, 'True to our beloved God we stay'.
A collaboration with Lawrence Sharp
9th November 2018
No script
belonging one’s civilization
no history
anyone can recall,
only the enduring solid stone blocks
someone created to form this ancient wall.
A relic unknowingly
left to the woodland undergrowth
and those
that measure nature’s time.
© Harry J Horsman 2020
Professor Hapgood’s studies on ancient maps were fixed
Einstein said his theories should be added to history’s mix
Perhaps it proved too big a leap for other minds to take
But his ancient culture findings, Hapgood would not forsake
6000 BC, before Egypt’s pyramids were built
Millennia before Pompeii’s lava had been spilled
Or small fishing boats hugged the Mediterranean Coast
And Columbus’s “daring” voyage was not even close
Ancient seafarers drew with astounding accuracy
Maps of the world they once knew, the fishermen’s legacy
Antarctica sans ice and closer to the equator
The Mid-Atlantic Ridge once an above-sea sky scraper
Siberia touching Alaska with no Bering Strait
(Palin could have seen Russia without snow from her back gate)
Cuba, England, Sweden, too, on these maps appear clearly
But Sweden’s fully glacial; England’s blanket an ice sheet
If we believe Hapgood, a civilization once thrived
Thousands of years before language; maps keep memories alive
Technology to chart the seas was lost in ancient times
With latitude and longitude measurements quite refined
Sea kings’ cities may have succumbed during the last Ice Age
Surviving nations lost their skill when history turned a page
Geography to be found again when the Earth had healed
“Discoverers” reinvented the forgotten ship’s wheel
Magellan, perhaps not the first to sail around the globe
Admiral Byrd not the first man to visit the South Pole
Spirits from a colony of seafarers can be found
From deep beneath Antarctic ice, they try to spread the word
But laugh they must as scientists forecast global warming
And man attempts to alter life and heed their dire warning
Shifting poles? Natural cycles! Men would be well advised
To study the maps Hapgood found and open their closed minds
To learn more about Professor Charles Hapgood’s map studies and the comments made by
Albert Einstein, you can visit http://www.crystalinks.com/crustal.html.
WRITTEN FROM A MARRIED WOMAN'S PERSPECTIVE
i know we have been married a very very long time
we barely ever talk in fact i might as well be a mime
it is normal i suppose after so long to lose interest
please understand i am not at all trying to be a pest
i wonder if you even still know where it is
just below my belly button you'll see the frizz
i wish - though it's been ages - you would find again that old space
and then Make Love To Me In (what for you is) That Ancient Place
I am very pleased to present a fourth collaboration
with great poet and friend, Robert Lindley.
Only Robert's mighty pen and personal encouragement
could possibly have inspired me to venture
beyond my more familiar Free Verse.
Thank you, Robert, for your great inspiration
and ongoing fellowship.
Ancient Hero, Firm And Honourable Til Death
A collaboration with Robert Lindley
9th November 2018
Twas not roses painted bright red upon his shield
he that with great courage refused to ever yield;
with beating heart and full faith in his saving God
slayed monstrous beasts, going where only heroes trod
with no complaint of hardest sacrifices made,
he gave back no ground and bright red-blood wet his blade.
Family crest of roses and red bird of prey.
Its motto, 'True to our beloved God we stay'.
Decades flown by, great battles fought under red sun
bravery gave strength to finish what was begun;
strongest spirit with true soul to match and hold true
to the solemn vows and painful costs surely due
his right arm, servant of Light, Truth and Divine God,
with love of family and his faith, his firm rod.
Family crest of roses and red bird of prey.
Its motto, 'True to our beloved God we stay.'
War's end, dusk of last decade under cloud's cover
would be pride and pain greatest to lifelong lover;
fiercest and most wicked was the very last foe,
The Serpent King blithely cast gods and angels low;
most prized the triumph or most abject the defeat,
in driving rain the greatest challenge he would meet.
Family crest of roses and red bird of prey.
Its motto, 'True to our beloved God we stay'.
Unclean was the battle and untold was its cost,
lives of men and monsters were sacrificed, not lost;
The Ancient Hero stood and faced The Serpent King,
final bloody battle he knew would bring death's sting;
perished with his bane, war's demons and gods destroyed,
mightiest foe with him he took into the void.
Family crest of roses and red bird of prey.
Its motto, 'True to our beloved God we stay'.
There’s an ancient
thing of wisdom
in a cavern
in the sea;
deep down in murky waters
lying, sleeping peacefully.
At times it will awaken
take a travel-contemplation
or perhaps a short vacation
to collect new wisdom-seeds.
Sometimes it peeks
out from beneath
those liquid silvery waves;
then it dives and waters quiver;
just like diamonds on a river.
Then the diamond dancers fold their
crystal wings above its’ head.
Throughout umbral brine it searches
for others of its’ kind;
often stops to ponder
if it’s all that has survived.
We may thrill to glimpse it
as it bobs amid the waves
of the Okanagan, Loch Ness
or some other distant place.
Perhaps its’ mind’s about to burst
with the knowledge of the past;
after centuries of living
in the dark abysmal mass.
We humans must not harm it
or let anyone alarm it;
for it could be that this dragon
is a wise and gentle thing.
Perhaps within its’ heart lie the notes
that will make this planet sing.
1-3-2022
A STRAND (1045) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Nothing stirs the blood more than lies
I stand upon sacred ground of honor
Defend the truth with my soul's honest sword
I'll hold character before dishonor
And cut away at any lies discord
Face with an angry voice, all lies that creep
That hides inside minds of a human throng
Who scurries from the truth, for lies are cheap
They sell each lie in darker shades of wrong
This line so sacrosanct cannot be crossed
Nor tossed aside a quaint and ancient rite
I'll face the ugly truth and pay its cost
And live or die indeed, for its true light
I find that lies betray a chosen dearth
And will leave a tarnished stain on your self-worth
5/1/18 contest Emotions that Rock You
An oak tree stood beside a narrow stream
All bent and twisted like an agéd man
So gently flowed the stream through ancient roots
While laughing with the innocence of youth
In summertime the children came to play
Within the cooling water of the stream
Or rest beneath the gnarled oak tree's limbs
Spread, father-like, to shade them from the sun
In autumntime, when gusts and breezes blow
The leaves would float like dancers through the air
First here, then there, they softly tripped, until
They lit at last to grace the frozen ground
In wintertime, the sprightly youths would skate
Along the crystal surface of the stream
Above, the windswept branches firmly stood
Like blacksmiths' limbs are hardened from the forge
In springtime burst the oak leaves forth anew
As kingly robes they grace the ancient tree
Inside its keep the squirrels and thrushes chirp
Secure from danger's threat and free from care
Time sped, its unrelenting chimes yet tolled
The youths that loved its shade have passed away
Yet still he laughs and seems to mock at time
He stands as stout and tall as ages past
But time, its current flows at even pace
And now the oak is bent with cruel decay
Though doubled at the back like aging man
He stands there yet, a monument of strength
~ Written for "Personification" Contest. Second Place.
In twilight, old songs you're softly humming.
Languorous smiles silken your lovely face,
beguiling my presence still, becoming
in all your ways, a gift of heaven's grace.
Deep your eyes, beheld above the stillness
of mystic mien, dismissing every voice.
Caresses known in sadness and in illness,
a bounty cherished, if you make the choice.
Alluringly, you draw the bedroom curtain
and move in softest song of violins.
Of languid looks and outcome certain,
as old as Eve, the ancient dance begins.
Sway, your heated honey scent of passion
and poise, anticipating kiss conceived,
shall return my longing, in your fashion
and make my life ten times a joy perceived.
My love grows great to see your form advance
and weave with siren song the ancient dance.
Love of truth
the very light of Greece
A peninsula thrust out
like a bony hand,
‘God-tormented Greece,’
Zeus exclaimed,
“I shall give man ‘an evil,’ as the price of fire:
They will clasp destruction with laughter of desire.”
The Gods live on-even though obscure.
Fate rules them too, as Zeus learns
the heroes must die; and the greater
the heroism the earlier the death.
Greece being, itself so divided
between the rational and irrational,
between logic and instinct,
between the scientific and the magical,
between the state of self possession
and that of being possessed,
and one can continue……
between symmetry and diversity,
between the recognition of limits
and the pursuit of the limitless,
between restraint and vaulting ambitions,
or hubris, Pythagoras in all his wisdom
could achieve no resolution or harmonia.
Of all these diverse elements, what was
greatest in him, and in Greece,
was the recognition of these conflicts
for what they were…….
that by grappling with them
a better order in life might then arise.