Best Assails Poems
When the storm clouds boil around me,
And the lightning splits the sky--.
When the howling wind assails me,
And life's sea is rolling high--
When my heart is filled with terror,
And my fears, I can't allay--
Then I find sweet peace and comfort,
When I simply stop and pray.
When the things of life confound me,
And my faith is ebbing low--
When my trusted friends betray me,
And my heart is aching so--
When the night seems black and endless,
And I long for light of day--
Then I find a silver dawning,
When I simply stop and pray.
There are things beyond the heavens
I can't begin to understand,
But I know that God is living,
And I know He holds my hand.
Yes, I know He watches o'er me
All the night and all the day--
And He's always there to hear me
When I simply stop and pray.
This rink ranks right up there.
My power skates, slice each ring,
the scent of ice assails my nose.
Funny in the absence of air, I breathe.
It must be a dream. I don’t care.
The wind of Saturn blows through my hair.
No wind, you say, but I will believe
what this dream gifts to me. Can’t believe
I’ve made it this far. It’s not Mars -
tired of the heat and the bars.
Brightly lit, I see a disco ball in the mist.
I am young again. Giddy boys showing off.
I’m twirling like a pro until I fall
softly onto my fairytale bed,
the one twenty mattresses tall.
I woke up a bit bruised. Saturn
on Saturday night, had no idea,
a princess performed on her rings.
This rink ranks right up there.
From The Saddest Depths Of Bitter Despair
Within this heart love born
once beloved now scorn
fills each little crevice
life seems out of service
bitter cold turns the wind
dark sets its pains to send
Alas! Loneliness reaps
broken shards into heaps
while moonlight will not shine
on these blues I now dine
and the aches seem endless
here, I am now friendless
dark on this soul assails
nobody hears my wails
In this chasm I soft weep
So, so cold, dark and deep
Within this heart love born.
Once beloved, now scorn.
R.J. Lindley,
Dark rhyme
( From, In for a penny, in for a pound )
Mute
but immutable.
Unmoving, unmoveable;
timeless, yet tireless.
Solitary stalwart sentinel
surveils undulating horizon.
Aberrant, achromatic clouds
pock-mark the skies, as distant
rumblings herald his adversary's
latest gambit in their age-old conflict.
The wrath of a thousand crashing,
clashing, thrashing fists batter
against the beleaguered sentry.
Ceaselessly, remorselessly,
the maelstrom assails him.
But the foundations are firm and
noble gatekeeper stands steadfast.
Single-minded of purpose, placid
custodian morphs into combatant as
his luminous, voluminous blade carves
luminescent arcs through chthonic cloak.
Tenebrous tendrils wither and dissipate,
impotent under intense lambent onslaught.
His victory is only fleeting, as vanquished
foes are summarily supplanted by more of
their ilk in a seemingly continual surge.
Again and again, over and over, tormentor
presses the attack, exploiting any weakness.
Over and over, again and again, valiant warden
repels the barrage and despatches his enemies.
And so the pattern repeats endlessly, unabated,
as these eternal opponents jostle for position
in a perpetual cycle of aggression and defence.
Until eventually, finally, ultimately, the stale-mate
is broken; when Tempest's tantrum is tamed and
Blizzard's battalions have been banished, all is calm.
Tranquillity is able to reassert herself and order has
finally been restored; at least for the foreseeable future.
Obligations fulfilled, the triumphant Guardian can now rest.
Until the need arises again, until he's called upon once more,
he will wait patiently, watch diligently, in unflagging vigilance.
Forever resolute, a beacon of sanctuary, a symbol of hope, his is a
thankless task, but the Protector of Mariners will always be needed.
-----------------------------------
(C) John C Michaels, 27 July 2017
For Eve Roper's "Lighthouse" Contest.
(1st Place)
For Timothy Lee
You are the one and only perfect male for this girly female.
Your body, so strong, manly and taut, is meant for my body soft.
Your hands eager, sensual assails make my senses lapse and fail.
Your manly, intimate onslaughts erase my every thought.
When your intent looms to impale, I soon forget how to inhale.
When my impassioned mouth is caught by your desirous lips as sought,
and your flesh-kisses press lust trails rendering me as velvet wails ...
oh, then ... you perfectly astound as I melt perfectly unbound.
"Puzzle Stomped"
Pieces scattered
placed on a table
with boundaries
between
the incarcerated margins
there are strict conditions
Time drips
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted
imperfectly
perfect
towards upwards
new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication
behind her veil
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses
holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded
the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to
free the redressed vicissitudes
to undress the crisp breeze of her
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets
gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes
Somewhere,
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle,
cutting tall poppy
each step she takes
towards her freedom gate
In his hands he cups
the hidden
missing piece
The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep
along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime
their spelt magic
grows majestically spoilt
seeded from a sweet perfume
conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged
off all the slippery knaves
and wax-sealed pages
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings
turn into suffocating
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces
She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints
for a new road home
He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song
the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance
thundering over a stormy mind grows
patch worked with glassed-in
jarred ghost bees, the old
puzzle of a story stomped on
He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time
Beyond takes her hand
And sensually whispers
along all her fairest fears
sweeping all pieces off her
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable
forgotten
left lacking
on the harsh floor
Cum dederit
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas
to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung
the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon
Time for a new story
He says darkly
and swiftly closes
Past’s door.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
I will not run from fear. Its torment I must shun,
when it threatens with distress and intimidation.
No song of despair will I sing when day is done,
nor will I cower, cringing with grim trepidation.
Though calamity assails me, I will not be alarmed.
Courage and faith will justly serve as my citadel
until the menacing enemies have been disarmed.
Then, in serene existence, once more will I dwell.
I will not burden my heart by anchoring it in grief.
Life should be a celebration, a mirthful affair,
but everything I fear will steal my joy like a thief.
I choose not to squander a minute in dire despair.
Death will not find me trembling on my knees,
for it's the dreaded price I must pay for mortality.
I will not plea with the Reaper, only to appease
him in granting me one more day before finality.
I will tend my garden on these hot Summer days,
and rejoice in knowing Autumn's chill draws near.
I will welcome Winter snows with words of praise,
and await Spring's arrival without anguish or fear.
August 12, 2022
Strong Emotions Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Emotions highlighted are fear and despair
predator from the deep
destroyer of amity
his fin glides toward you
voracious enemy
peace in soupdom imperiled
by beast with many names
his temperament assails
engaging in mind games
from friend to friend he turns
spewing hateful lies
his style so lackluster
to divide and conquer, he tries
victims selected randomly
he finds some won’t strike back
but others band together
planning a counter-attack
joining hands for defense
souper strength shines strong
he flees with jaws debased
to rue his every wrong
*December 29, 2018.
Remembering Dad’s animated Cowboy tales
Along lyrics, bearing words, “My pony and me”
I would imagine his youth's toilsome farm travails
while making the best of life midst struggles and glee.
In our place where Cowboy lifestyle means “hard, yet free”
we’re trained to be tough when difficulty assails
overcoming shyness against arrogance spree
staying honest upon what truthfulness entails.
Such is Cowboy perspective that my father hails
leaving us his legacy, trusting God* we should be
celebrating past triumphs though memory fails
sharing down-to-earth experiences, with learning as key.
*Psalm 112:7 He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, trusting in the LORD.
January 30, 2021
4th place, "Cowboy Poetry" Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier; judged on 2/3/2021.
Of all flowers
you stand out
most beautiful
an opening rosebud
sweet fresh
in blooming white
within emotions dew
Priceless feelings
falling kisses
softy from
the center out
tasting happiness
in sweet
scenting petals
one lady
of dreams
Fingers gliding gently
softly touching satin
over such a gem
desiring deeply
treasured love
who touched
the heart inside
so many times
To live forever
is living love
my beloved
this deep longing
assails me
holding you
in the heart
one treasured soul
that special lady
a dream rose
Cosmos magic assails me, delights me, entices me.
Heavenly bliss smiles upon my willingness to become one.
Spiritual energy lifts me, inspires me.
Ascending, I transmute
A star now, I smile at my empty chair.
Other stars congregate around me. Welcome back, they whisper.
Not in a voice, but in gentle, loving, thoughts.
I recognize them, they are the ones I had forgotten.
I am feeling blissful, loved, experiencing a soul level I had
Been banned from retaining in my earth body.
My empty chair sends love to the hickory tree behind her.
I realize they are related. At one time, she was an offshoot from
the tree's roots.
I am an offshoot of another world.
Leaving this one behind will be no hardship.
Sparkling, dazzling energy enhances and promotes sheer happiness.
I feel a delight I had forgotten.
I am delicately surrounded by the cosmos which loves me now,
Has always loved me, and will forever love me.
I say "I have missed you so much!"
Knowing the one I have missed is me.
I have never felt so loved.
Everyone loves
nectar from honey
moons and the
sweet secretions of
honey sickle stems
But who will love you
when no moons shine
and seas rebuff
sands from your
continent?
When the warmth of
summer winds fade
and coolness assails
the molecular density
of your liquidity,
do candle lit windows
really welcome
torn hearts
into quilted tranquility?
Love of my love,
I pray you rest peacefully,
New moons await
on unwritten horizons
Circ’ling down in brilliant whiteness,
Sett’ling here upon the ground;
Blowing now about the bushes,
Making patterns straight and round.
Perfect beauty, perfect whiteness
Now assails my clouded sight;
Spread unbroken o’er the mountains,
Sparkling brightly in the light.
Microscopic detailed order;
No two flakes were e’re the same:
All designed in sep’rate order;
Who this wondrous tho’t can frame?
Who decreed this awesome order,
Who these details tho’t and planned?
Who made clouds to grace the heavens,
Spread the snowflakes with His hand?
Jesus Christ and God the Father,
And the Spirit, three in one,
Planned and formed, decreed and ordered,
Till this blessed deed was done.
The Way barred, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Le sens clos by T. Wignesan
Every man has to confront his own night
If he wants to continue on his journey.
But Death takes it upon itself to meet him
At the hour and the place it chooses
(The moment when sometimes this man’s most at peace
Making him forget the profoundness of being at ease.)
There’s this look which suddenly arrests him
This wall against which he collides headlong.
There’s this arrow-like fixedness focussing ahead
Visible in his pupils. There’s this stiffness
Of the nape through which the soul is reached.
There’s this man’s expression of utter surrender
Yet he takes the step into the impenetrable void.
Yet this obscure hardness is an invitation
To force the impenetrable door through dire anxiety.
It being convenient to defer to terror
The way one dons a wedding dress. As long as God
Does not imbue with madness those who love Him
He’s not loved as He would have wished.
Just the way the Patriarchs the Prophets
Train their sights towards this wine. And the face
Gaping at the first to arrive on the road
To take him back home. Someone fills it up
Like one does a cup : this passer-by becomes Jacob
Unable to control God in his veins,
And the over-abundance frothing in his eyes.
He who assails the invisible (perhaps you)
Little does it matter if he’s petrified
Or if his limbs flail in the emptiness. He equally
Experiences the misery of such venerable persons
Who mask their vacant selves with such gestures
Their atrocious trances with such stillness.
If every man must on his own open the door of his night
That’s just so as to reveal what’s meant for all mankind.
No Jacob will ever stop clasping at God
Nor await Abraham’s Justice
Nor keep silent under Isaac’s knife.
Nor for the Adam in every one of us to provoke
The echo of the void at the portals of paradise.
(Jacob, O.C. t. II, p. 147)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 19, 2014
Lady Onyx has curvy, black nails;
so resistance she quickly assails.
She needs no boot spurs;
for nails long like hers
serve as tailor made cat-o-ten tails.
written 19 February 2016