Best Ascendancy Poems
Crystallized tears
When time, marched by the flame of a candle
The fear, from the swords and peak of the temple
When the virgin liberty was in a dungeon
Tyranny was and is still for souls to be sunken
New belief, a hope, lifts inquests and conflicts
Empires, built on bones, and by others eclipses
The game of kings, the war, ascendancy and gain
With their seers, they conquest more and again
The crystallized tears, marked the face of the earth
From timeless injustice and the avarice's mirth
Thence, the cannon, from the crust was born
And the flesh of man, continues to be torn
The war and coins are the trade of their life
Thence, greed and death for the elite, shall thrive
The fabrics of history, was sown by them and then
The keys of the globe, were in chains and so was the pen
The hope, was an orphan and lived with ghosts
The rise of freedom, was seen far and from every coast
Thence, tyranny turned the fear, from sword to fear by law
So the the elite can keep their liberty by code and claw
The ocean in quest, to the harbor, was by his waves
To wash the marks on land printed by the feet of the slaves
Freedom, he said, is the breath of the soul, to be blessed
Since dawn, it tantalized earth and man to have rest
Those souls, as yet, fighting the chains and webs
Until eternity, by the elite, they will remain oppressed
Dr.Mohammed F A Alrazak
Categories:
ascendancy, freedom, history, inspiration,
Form:
Quatrain
He is my inspiration.
Creator of Life, you are,
We extol your creative wonders.
We stand in awe at your wisdom,
We're compelled to pause and ponder.
Almighty God, you are,
Astonishing displays of your great power.
Your name for us is our shelter,
Our stronghold and our tower.
Sovereign Lord, you are,
Exercising dominion o'er all your creation.
We surrender to your ascendancy,
In unreserved dedication.
Ancient of Days, you are,
As revealed in your own word.
No one surpasses you in excellence,
Your blessings now conferred.
King of Righteousness, you are,
Your statutes and principles you give.
Wholeheartedly we shall obey your laws,
As long as we shall live.
King of Eternity, you are,
From indefinite past, to forever,
We disown ourselves in servitude,
Our resolute endeavor.
Majestic One, you are,
Incomparable in glory and holiness.
Your resplendent magnificence,
Only you possess.
Alpha and Omega, you are,
The beginning and the end.
Because of your great love, we choose,
To be your lifelong friends.
Praised be your holy name!
J ust and righteous is he.
E verlasting, to time indefinite.
H oly to the superlative degree.
O mniscient, all knowing, all wise.
V enerable, worthy of Worship.
A lmighty in power.
H ighly exalted.
John Derek Hamilton
March 22,2021
Original post 2015
Categories:
ascendancy, bible, character, christian, dedication,
Form:
Rhyme
I saw a death shadow in the eyes of my infancy
a soft mercy with calm blue fancy,
in childhood, when free will asserted it's wild supremacy
we sang of star charriots and laughter loyal to hyperactivity,
I see a death shadow in the prime of my ascendancy
outlining my temple of truth, whistling thy words of wizardry,
I hear It like the madness of morning's ending,
I taste It as if from the burning breast milk of a Dragoness,
I see It in the bleeding smile of my heart's kindness,
I speak to It when love's luster unlocks the lunacy of loneliness,
I feel the humble shade of It's jade justice in a world hot and hustling,
My death shadow has a surface sweet with patient purpose,
It is not rough with forboding frost that frights the fight of flesh,
rattling the scythe of doom and cackling for cataleptic crisis it does not,
It is not a grim God or a greedy Goddess, no taxing terror trumpeted,
It has never been an angel of escape or a demon of dour delirium,
when suffering becomes a seduction of brute beauty I share in it's wise joy,
my death shadow follows the desperate yet disciplined form of my body battle
through life's plethora of coy poisons and possessive passions,
marching along side me with martial grace, sculpting my face with lion spirit -
J.A.B.
Categories:
ascendancy, death, gothic, heart, introspection,
Form:
Ode
(Giving voice to those who suffered and believe in poetic justice)
Should I cut the corner of your coat?
Too many times you tried to squeeze my throat;
you got perverse pleasure to see my page blank,
thought I have overdrawn the polyglot’s bank.
I saw your glee, you thought I went to flee,
you did not understand, my spirit was in command.
Without ascendancy you appointed yourself as judge,
still I chose not to bear a grudge.
Like David, my sins are uncovered,
like him I never devoured
Nathan; he was not sent by Satan.
He was sent by Him, against Whom all have sinned.
Yet you aimed to shame and then denied,
thought you caught me by surprise and caused my demise.
You have conveniently overlooked my word,
I have confessed and made my peace with the Lord.
Who sent you? You are not a messenger of peace,
Your truth doesn’t set free but spreads strife and disease.
You are not a prophet; are you the false king’s puppet?
I saw Fate throw the dice,
so now you are uncovered before my eyes;
but like David, I too will kill hatred with love,
he was content to cut the corner of Saul’s robe.
An eye for an eye? It won’t make me smile to see you die,
I will not honor vengeful games with my name.
Now, I release myself from all the hurt you’ve caused
and claim God’s gift; He who knows me more than most,
denies you satisfaction to silence my thoughts.
I am forgiven.
Through His grace I forgive you seventy times seven,
on your downfall you won’t see me gloat;
I refuse to even cut the corner of your coat.
From: 1 Samuel 24; 2 Samuel 12:1-13 and Matthew 5: 21-22
Inspired by Olive Eloisa's Theme: Not for contest
Poem of the Day - 04 January, 2016
Categories:
ascendancy, abuse, anti bullying, forgiveness,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Destroy thine own brother in abject apathy
taking up arms 'midst conquering expectancy,
invoking howls of contemptible thunder
neath skies' transparency beyond trepidation,
battles' plundering captures naught of stability
nor intervention from otherworldly gods
predisposed towards earthly universal unity,
persecuting soil's divinity neath aggregate exploits
incalculable hunger upon grounds' domination,
tears were purged in the name of unholy ascendancy
deliver us from susceptible evil men chanting war cries,
congregated in humanity's blood spoils on fire
hailing flared atomic detonations' nuclear nightmare
Trumped midst castle's undeniably delusional rhetoric
Ultimately ascertained, entities' faith shall resoundingly be diminished
casting down divine dispensation bestowed pon the wrath of mankind
Categories:
ascendancy, allegory, conflict, corruption, fire,
Form:
Free verse
(SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 1917)
It’s just another starry night
all is at peace before the storm,
Yet so afraid am I, of the impending summer’s day
now the shadows begin to form.
Many silhouettes create memories
those in childhood verdant pastures aspire,
yet amongst this valley of planted souls
gives one many reasons to suspire.
I see a subtle portrait of mankind
an apparition suspended from the sky,
in waves of committed butchery
to fill one’s saddened eye.
Are they not also human?
those that dance between the lead,
like me, have they a reason to love
those that advance amongst the dead.
Yet still they come uninvited
like the surf on an inhibited beach,
same God! Same belief!
Our ascendancy, our spirit to breach!
Yet still, I keep on making plans for the morrow
my love I know soon to be all alone.
Oh! How I wish my finger tips to touch her face,
before one rescinds this life, this birthright loan!
© Harry J Horsman 2007
Categories:
ascendancy, war,
Form:
Lyric
Figures of immense reputation and popularity they were
Attracting public attention and admiration in the pursuit of their great works
Leaving behind them a legacy of some kind
But going with them their unique characters.
Wasn’t the explosion of Christianity the work of Jesus of Nazareth?
And the burst of Islam not the work of Muhammed of Mecca?
Neither will the admirable leadership of Julius Caesar;
Nor the conquests of the unlearned Charlemane,
And the military successes of Alexander the great,
Be forgotten in History.
If the British can forget Napoleon’s continental system
Jews then, would forget Hitler’s concentration camps
And history would entirely cease recalling his mentor Mussolini.
What if Carl Marx did not propound radical socialism?
Lenin then, would not have smashed the bourgeoisie and ruled Russia
Neither would the principles of Marxism-Leninism be sustained by Stalin
Nor would Churchill seal the border between the East and the West with an iron curtain.
A grave mistake it would be to forget Martin Luther King Jr.
For if he be forgotten, Mahatma Ghandi then would also be
And the entire movement of nonviolence
Will stop covering many pages of modern history books.
Had it not for Kwame Nkruma and Hastings Banda to cut the rope of colonialism
The ambitious Cecil Rhodes then,
Would have drained the whole continent of all its economic wealth.
The ascendancy of Nelson Mandela from the horizon of apartheid
Was not the beginning of Maximillien Robespierre’s reign of terror;
Characterized by avenges and reprisals
But the emergence of Abraham Lincoln’s true democracy.
What if Caesar were not butchered?
William Shakespeare then, would not have been the greatest playwright
Causing Charles Dickens and Chinua Achebe not to appear.
For the existence of a Jewish state, David Ben Gulion fought
But for the reemergence of a Palestinian state, Yasser Arafat strives.
Categories:
ascendancy, history, work, history, work,
Form:
Prose Poetry
A drowsy sun has closed his eye
Leaving me in tinted twilight
Hemorrhaging color by degrees
until I stood in blue-black night.
Dusk is the darkest of twilight
where sights and sounds become adverse:
a contrived unreality,
imagination unrehearsed
and interspersed with primal fears.
Harmless shadows act out phantoms
conjured deep within my psyche.
Howls and hoots: night sounds most fearsome
Quasi-influential fancy
when dusk attains ascendancy.
Categories:
ascendancy, allusion,
Form:
Verse
Spirit of the night
Spirit of the night soil man
Spirit of the night soil man is awake
Spirit of the night soil man is abroad,
Here, the emerging mystery, more a sinister from a
dungeon,
When twilight sat on sad rooftops,
Lurking eyes, creeping limbs in the damp backyards,
To Loo looking gunt in the gloomy moonlight
Where broiling broths in chamberpots and bedpans are
emptied.
A structure of planks led upstairs
Ushering to crouch in a crouching mode,
Over hot hole on the pedestial,
Displaying buttocks lob over poe
Began the winced and windy screeching sirocco,
Screaming complaining bass and solo guitars,
Can be irksome when catch unawares
Of habitual sacrificial ritual of defecating,
On other hand, when afflicted in fora,
Go gawky limping along all the way
Any convenience found,
Unleashed mixed vortex of dark diarrhoea,
Ascendancy of curl buxom python laid,
Windy circular terra-cotta thin rope
And from top, short brief beef cake grenade drop,
After, some bruisers clean with dry cardboard
Or old newspapers that headline "Hard Times"
All add up sure riches to wealth,
Well soughted out after in heap chest.
Categories:
ascendancy, timenight, night,
Form:
Free verse
Once again unrelenting sadness knocks at my door,
Like the inveterate seeker of my generous charity
Calls on others like me and always demanding more.
Could it be that I am a lone favored mark to score?
And I am deigned to entertain gloom incessantly
Once again, unrelenting sadness knocks at my door.
Would that I could be like others who in autumn soar
And, seeing in falling leaves, they hope abundantly,
Calls on others like me and always demanding more.
I find at autumn’s advent a bitter chilling to the core
Rising to the level of self-uncontrolled ascendancy,
Once again, unrelenting sadness knocks at my door
Every year I have vowed I’ll not suffer again, I swore,
But this annual sadness I cannot explain from infancy
Calls on others like me and always demanding more.
Worse still, I have become a nauseous, weary boor,
Complaining and whining that this SAD has primacy.
Once again, unrelenting sadness knocks at my door
Calls on others like me and always demanding more.
written October 30, 2021
Categories:
ascendancy, angst, autumn, conflict, depression,
Form:
Villanelle
The moment I am out of the box
Foxes and hyenas surround me
Needy greedy aggressive seekers
Those who even a second before
Lay hidden in hibernation
In the tightly closed boxes of steel
On the verge of elimination
Thanks to the cultural policing
Now pouncing for dark and dense satisfaction
In a paleolithic plunder
Quenching reddening hunger
In the black and brown forest
Of unchained unrest
In pursuance of almost unconquerable
And incorruptible pleasure principle
Of animal happiness
Night and day
Sense buds making hay
Out of the aesthetic box
Wreaking senseless havoc
Our rose and rhododendrons in decay
Our seagulls
In infirmary and hospitals
Out of the box
The Spanish bull and ox
Flummox our poems
Into the imagery of
Ingrained instancy
For our tumultuous ascendancy
On the pinnacle
Of crimson churning
And the giant jingling
Tapering off to
The momentary Nirvana
Of the
Intense distraction
That arose out of the box
A moment later
In an inertia again
Of the restless vein
For the overwhelming rain
Into deep brain
Teeming with craving lanes and bye lanes
In the dim light delight
Out of box
The red fox
No mailbox
No riverine knocks
The box is very important
For our civilization
Into the flowers
Of sunny sublimation
_______________________________________________
18/01/2017
For the contest, How Long Can A Poetry Go,
Sponsor, Jamie Pan
Note: As the metaphors in the poem is too obvious to need explanation, no writer’s
Statement is added here, as asked for by the sponsor except saying that it deals with the psychological process of the dominance of pleasure principles at the cost of reality principles as elucidated by Sigmund Freud.
Categories:
ascendancy, conflict, culture, joy, psychological,
Form:
Free verse
I cant live with my profound instability
I cant be the poison and the remedy
I can inform, enlighten, give an idea;
cant explain how my reality's so severe
Not willing to accept that I am actually an addict
That my day to day life is controlled by a habit
Over indulgence in substance abuse
Determined by no reasonable excuse
Taunted by inner demons I have created
Suffer of Psychotic schizophrenia; drug related
Will power ceases to exist never to reappear
Self control lost with the inability to commandeer
Sobriety brings lack of interest, days mundane
From the daily use of speed i must refrain
The need for a high overcomes any felt lows
No lesson learnt from how bad my mind goes
My own worst enemy from drug dependency
No one else to blame because of ascendancy
ever seeking that intoxicating rush and feeling
until i realise that its from addiction i need freeing.
Categories:
ascendancy, addiction, deep, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
The great mother to whom I cry
But when will your mind be to laugh
Or mouth in joy of peace it seeks
When will happiness to brethren smiles
To him your joy afar in miles
The treasure your children lost
Or the inheritance of mother flaws
Grand children in madness drawn
To steal, to fraud and to loot
To this your veins drain in cries
And in pains your mouth bleeds
Yet curse your mouth refutes
Because in changes your mind lurches
Of children in wilderness of vain chase
Hope in vanity of welt wealth
Great mother to you I cry
But mother, behold you too in cry
Sour the taste, milk of your breasts
To whom will us the solace get
Nigeria, mother, bleed they made you
II.
In trust the one I gave the vase
To lead, to mold, and spray the musk
That which brethren will make a symbol
Fragrance the world sought in haste
Aroma the one to mold in folds
Your kids, your world, your growth
But, amongst of you, leaders you hailed
In cry I am, my kids are cursed
Like Judas you are of trust to keep
But the one your elders waste and frayed
To throne your ascendancy in flaws
When justice you claimed but ruts
In market justice you sell to hawks
Like lion poking and sneering of preys
The rich, the little of the weak he takes
Blame not the kids whose hands do stink
Of whom, I ask, they tutored in gales
To steal, to fraud, to loot like cats
But of their elders, parents, even the guides
The reference of elders, now their pride
III.
But there, standing he holds
In pretext the Books of the sages
The one he claims to bear
In them contains their sayings
Of the old and I say, of the Host
The one in whom I am mould
Books of the Ancients and of age
Of ancients before your gods
That in it my mind in cry
That in lies he claimed to know
Behold, he swore to an oath
In himself, his oath, his spirit rejects
The taker and the one who is charged
The responsibility of oath he took
Accursed these children I begot
The one for which I’m in cry
That unto him I say, woe betides
Fury of me is here to reckon
Rage of the Books that you hold
The one of oath as your witness
Against of your mouth, it shall witness
Categories:
ascendancy, africa, corruption, sad,
Form:
Lay
Rendered your elixir within flowing fire
turned my head till flames got higher
'neath vapors' influence lustfully burning,
imbibed upon insatiable blushed lips
feverish craving ignited darkly melting hours
intoxicated of ravenously absorbed flamings
zealous ardor pulsing beyond desires,
hungry to the bone poured of unrelenting fervor
skin soaked in mania's intensified voracity,
unrestrained cries out resonating wanton tongues
dizzying gypsy soul dripping sinfully impassioned
liquid quenching glow farther impulsive madness,
scent of mounting sensitivity's rush marinating
'neath rhythmical torrid undulations gushing
through every explosively satiated vessel,
breathlessness melded 'tween kindled ascendancy
exploiting drunkenness of volatile ardent spirits
“Drink wine. This is life eternal. This is all that youth will give you. It is the season for wine, roses and drunken friends. Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.”
Omar Khayyám
Categories:
ascendancy, drink, fire, hyperbole, muse,
Form:
Prose Poetry
THERE ARE ORDINARY THINGS UNDER THE SUN
BUT DONALD TRUMP IS NOT ONE
Let us speak of ordinary things
Such as Thracian wars and ascendancy of kings
Consulting Greek writers of the Second Sophistic
Might provide insight that must be intrinsic
Then we can move to the more mundane
Asia Minor's thousand gods might help to explain
Why there continues a lack of wisdom and intelligence
Which is sine qua non for a paucity of eptness
These virtues are lacking in one who purdures to astound
How a gasbag of hot air can remain earthbound
He retains characteristics of cosmic black holes
Knowledge falls in but where it goes no one knows
Categories:
ascendancy, allegory, allusion, fantasy, humorous,
Form:
Couplet