Best Apollo Poems
Armstrong, Collins and Aldrin
were the three that made up the crew
to be the first men to set foot on the moon
was what they were determined to do.
1969 was the year that it happened
16 July was the day
early that morning the blast- off took place
Apollo 11 was sent on its way.
They went over their plans for 3 or 4 days
on their way as they traveled through space
then it was time to descend to the moon
and gently land on its face.
On 20 July they made their descent
in the lunar module they commanded
History was made when we heard these words
"Houston, the Eagle has landed."
Neil Armstrong stepped out of the Eagle
and uttered these words so defined
"One small step for man
one giant leap for mankind."
An American flag was left on the moon
as a reminder of what they had done
they returned to Earth on July 24
their success was second to none.
This event went down in History
its success helped us to learn
that though other planets are quite far away
we can go there and safely return.
Dionysian passion fills my soul
With a stream of life that knows no restraint,
Your frantic current defies all control-
Awakens the devil within the saint.
Injected with life, I'm lost in your force
As waves of strange visions rend me apart,
For purpose that has no ending, no source-
Oh, come to my rescue, creative art.
Apollo, come harness this raging stream,
With power of reason, channel the surge,
Reshape my voluptuous, savage dream-
Transmute its horror to aesthetic urge.
Bring order to chaos—hold tight your rein-
Come, challenge this frenzy of energy!
You both are needed—the crazy, the sane-
Dionysus! Apollo! Balance me!
We start at the end, with the warmth of his breath on her skin
Baulked by proximity, he never knew how to begin
A golden-tainted obsession, bitterly laced with lead
Transformed rapture to quicksilver the instant Cupid fled
A moment held, made static, tender touch met with distress
For seeded in her veins, lies a stem of the wilderness
Pursuit stalled just in time, yet time itself recalibrates
Supplanted upon breaking, a laurel shoot germinates
Oh, what should have been the faintest touch cannot be undone
Rooted in the throes of escape, bound to bask in full sun
Sinews harden to fibre, each pulse springs a bonsai tree
Bark chokes her voice box; silent screams nest in the canopy
Locked in abjection, as her praying hands first plead then splay
As liberty, though not consciousness, is taken away
Overruled in evergreen, contortion as regal crown
Petrified white marble shall become her eternal gown
In Ovid’s Metamorphoses, the god Apollo mocks Cupid for wielding a bow, claiming it unworthy of a child. In retaliation, Cupid shoots Apollo with a golden arrow to ignite love, and Daphne a chaste nymph with a leaden one to incite revulsion. Though innocent, Daphne becomes the target of Apollo’s relentless pursuit. Just as he is about to seize her, she prays for escape, and her body is transformed into a laurel tree. Bernini’s stunning sculpture captures the precise moment of this metamorphosis
Through a forest of heavenly marble columns
Upon a bed of silvery mist with golden dew
Into the realm of Mount Olympus, Apollo dreams
Slumber oh grace thy eternal beauty of youthful man
Magnificent surrounds your godly radiance
The world of ancients waited your awaking
The Sun arose for your command
Once the reign of Zeus was done
The glory of Apollo was to begun
Majesty of archery oh gentle arrows of death
Escaspe your bow as easily as your breath
Patron of medicine you could heal
The very ones you choose to kill
Mortals who rejected your godly lust
As supreme ruler poor mortals do as they must
Poetry rhymes from your lips
Music one of your greatest gifts
With prophecy you should have known
You would be denied your godly throne
Never to ride against heaven in your chariot of the Sun
A Savior replaces you with the Faith of Jerusalem
Sleep eternally sleeps Apollo
Your creed the world no longer needs
Your light no longer is the sight
Apollo dreams never again to awake
Constantine's vision shakes than remake
God of Sun transform to this earth
Son of God by Virgin's Birth
Man no longer believes of Apollo's deeds
Man no longer has a reason for Apollo's needs
Without a purpose for his faith to be deem
On pillars of white marble forever Apollo dreams
I never meant that much to you,
Though from Olympus' heights you came;
Yet I gave you my mortal love,
While you played your immortal game.
Although my heart I freely gave,
I never meant that much to you;
You wooed me with your golden harp
On fragrant grass 'neath skies of blue --
And when you scaled the heights once more,
Did you think I would slowly die?
I never meant that much to you --
So why do you now shake and sigh?
Oh, how the golden god has changed!
Your sun-kissed hair has lost its hue;
And I have wed a mortal man --
I never meant that much to you.
~Apollo And Daphne~
(Eight By Four)
Apollo's first love
a beautiful
maiden that when
Apollo saw her
in the woods fell
in love with-but
Daphne fled from
him just frightened
Apollo was in
such hot pursuit
that when she felt
his breath she screamed
at her father
the god Peneus
who just changed her
into a tree.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2011
October.19.2016
~Author's Notes:
" The Eight by Eight" is a poetry
style created by Alvin Otto Stewart.
Silver floats the moon and boughs slender sway,
fleeing on her trembling breath
her light feet braves.
Rising of the lea in the dappled grey,
As she wore her verdant robes,
on her vestal form in surging waves.
He shielded her beauty in his embrace..
Her golden showers 'tween their stillness clasp,
as she lay glistening in his sighing grasp.
Stars shine in sheaves amid the elven shades,
that linger upon her fair brow,
hemmed with crystal strings and golden flakes.
His bride to be ne'er,
nymph of forest glades;
heard afar, beyond the hills,
her lone whisperings,
his yearning heart is left on her braided wings.
His love sweet fragrance with each breath endowed,
to wreathe the laurel with his words avowed.
Inside her heart she felt, his eyes' commands,
beneath the curling hair in misty wake,
that floated rough, untied about those lands,
his breezy handsomeness enhanced, and ache.
And she accepted him, at dawning break,
upon her nape then felt, the greening sea,
his vows proclaimed and triumphant heart's spree.
3rd Stanza in Rime Royal
©3/01/2014.Giorgio Veneto,Gautami Phookan.All rights reserved
Sun drenched waves lapping
Beams dancing along the shore
Spreading rays of life
~Apollo And Daphne~
(Eight By Four)
Apollo's first love
a beautiful
maiden that when
Apollo saw her
in the woods fell
in love with, but
Daphne fled from
him just frightened
Apollo was in
such hot pursuit
that when she felt
his breath she screamed
at her father
the god Peneus
who just changed her
into a tree.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2011
October.03.2015
"Eight by Eight" is a poetry
style created by Alvin Otto Stewart.
Your muscular body glistened
As warm golden streaks of sun
Streamed down on you
You’re standing in the lake
In the level of your sinewy thighs
Where water is solemn and blue
As if your ember like body
Is dipped in the blue
To cool off the hotness within
Are you possessed
with the spirit of Apollo?
You bend your body
Hands stretched forward
Curved back
Ready for the dive,
Indeed you steal
The grace of his bow!
You fling your body
Towards the water
In an instant-
Waves rippled
From the center of you
Bullseye! everywhere you plunge.
Indeed you steal,
The accuracy of his arrow!
Now I’m convinced
That you are indeed
An embodiment of Apollo!
It was the third lunar mission
Of the Apollo space program;
Destination was the earth’s moon
Where two men were going to land.
Neil Armstrong was the Commander;
Piloting the Columbia was Michael Collins;
Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin would Pilot the Eagle;
The landing craft they would land in.
Aldrin landed the Eagle
In the Sea of Tranquility,
While millions watched on TV sets,
Including my family and me.
On July 20, 1969,
Men from the Apollo 11 space flight
For the first time walked on the moon
Late on that summer night.
I’ll never forget the exact day it occurred;
It’s a special day for me;
I shared my eleventh birthday
With the men of Apollo 11 and history.
Of antiquity's Gods I know little,
And yet somehow feel fit as a fiddle,
God of poems and plague
(Though connection's quite vague!) ,
But real life seems to rest in the middle.
Brian Johnston
August 2,2014
Poet's Notes:
With special thanks to Daniel Brick of PoemHunter.com for tempting me to enter arena's I would normally not dare to enter. I've been eaten by lions in too many different lifetimes! : -)
APOLLO 11 BRIGHTENS OUR FUTURE
Beyond the twinkling stars, so still - the dark.
We strive for greater things - the Moon and Mars.
And Venus we do praise her beauty mark.
Our Milky Way - homogenized gold stars.
Forgotten Pluto, runt, invisible.
And mando Jupiter, so powerful.
Each planet thrives alone, divisible.
Our great universe quite so beautiful.
Astronaut stands heroic with flag plant.
We stare up at the shining white rapt moon.
We dream to see a microscopic ant
or life-size man, on the right side of June.
The mysterious sky lights up each face.
The night unveils our future life in space.
9th Place
5/9/2017
Sonnet Form
Shadow Hamilton's Night Sky Sonnets contest
Fair Apollo, may I borrow your golden lyre
So I might strum a heavenly chord full of fire
Else, let me pluck a laurel from your grove
Towards greatness, ever I strove
But alas my fingers are not nimble and quick
My wire sung words sting and stick
O Apollo were I as fair as the tree
Perhaps with second sight I could see
Fair Apollo lend me a voice as sweet and rich
A harpy in church, I rasp and –*****
I’ll drown in myself if I not throw it out soon
I’m hopelessly blocked
And Half cocked at noon
Fair Apollo, may I borrow your golden lyre
So I might strum a heavenly chord full of fire
Else, take me under your bright wing
With your guidance, let this Philomel sing
Day-248 “Winter’s Wrath”
From out of the north
The cold winds blew
Hell’s inferno turned blistery cold
The Devil himself all
Bundled in ice coated steel;
His snarly, crackling laughter
Piercing the barren air.
His staff, a brazened fork,
Pierced all who ventured out
Searing holes in sockless shoes.
His razor sharp eyes
Turned pathways glazed
To monstrous graves.
Eternity could not be worse
This inferno from the north.
From out of the south
The warm winds came.
Across the Heavens,
In a chariot of golden sun rays
Pulled by a hundred whited steeds
Apollo took aim.
Over the plains they clashed;
Spears and swords took many a soul
White sheets covered the deadly fields.
The north wind hissed.
The south wind kissed.
Apollo cried out
“My blood runs hot
Forsake me not.”
From his scabbard a diamond blade flew
Cutting the breath of that mighty
South bound wind.
He ripped the armor
From the Devil’s redden skin
And turned it to dust; then
Took that angry man’s staff and threw
It to the sea.
With that the skies began to calm
And the wind turned warm.
Above the plains
In the setting sun
Selene stood proud.
As she glazed the sea
With an orangish glow
A smile on her face
For Apollo her man,
Boreas he tamed.
Lon 2/16/2021 #351