Best Assaults Poems
Let there be no hidden or disguised facades
Let there be achievable dreams; not hopeless mirages
Let there be no sorry but sunny days of happy faces
Let there be no hatred and separation between the races
Let there be an abundance of bright lights and starry starry nights
Let there be a fully promoted and always protected Bill of Rights
Let there not be assaults of, but encouragement of Free Enterprise
Let there be more Term Limits of politicians and less special privileges
Let there be the exaltation of the individual
Let there be the expansion of Entrepreneurship
Let there be no loss but multiplied gains of greatness
May politicians always be servants of, and not superior to the people
May I not be afraid of 'my government', but may it be 'afraid of me'
May the constitution be upheld, and all religions free to teach and tell
May justice be freely served and never a mortal abused or unnerved
May the Bible not be seen as a threat, but a friendly guide to paradise
May every American be filled with hope, and duly take note;
America's future and hope lie far above and beyond the vote
111120PSCtest, 2021 United States Of America Visionary Poetry, L Milton Hankins, Sponsor. NA
As the winds breathe heavily darkened within fury
Moaning filled with clouds begins speaking
Through stormy turbulent assaults with waves that kill
A ballad is blown away like feathers from angels wings
Rain falling heavily driven by natures unyielding force
Trees bend to salute the host's almighty anger
Hurricane's orchestra romancing chaos turns
Striking tempest flashing lightening power of creation speaks
Rumbling voices roaring echoes carried from the heaven's
The action and power of love both earthly and heavenly
Crackling forks sparking separating inside an air like music dawns
Floods flow down a neck chain around the mountain's face
Rushing to an ocean's source where it's kissed by the salt of grace
Washed in a seabed finding her resting place safe inside an oyster
Enormous waves sad and monotonous, which eventually dies
A collaborated poem
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid
14.09. 2017
tristich unrhymed
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Upon the rise from my slumber this morning,
I could not help but continued on yawning.
Another fine Summer's day I thought to myself,
A grateful soul I am for still having my health.
Straight away I thought of writing poetry all day,
But my mind still hazy, what would I say?
So I sat at my desk with pen and paper at hand,
Waiting for my mind and thoughts to expand.
Then without a clue, I started writing to you,
Try to share my emotions was the best I could do.
So as my pen wrote down words that I just couldn't find,
Leaving me at peace to explore my own mind.
I know we have never really met face to face,
The best we can do is connect in cyberspace.
But as a soul that struggles alone day by day,
I just needed this opportunity to honestly say.
I've never been one to act like a drama queen,
Nor am I one to create an unwanted scene.
Apart from my own personal problems and faults,
I know we have all had our own fair share of assaults.
And one day when the Sun fades and dissipates,
We shall all learn after all of our own fates.
Until that day we shall still share this place,
And read each other's poetry with a smile on our face.
Midfall and nearly all the trees
Stand brown as broken sticks
Against a sky impossibly blue,
I in shirtsleeves a walking go
With love and longings as my companions
Kicking through the drifts of colored shards
Fallen with another Summer's stealthy fading
Feeling, marveling at this piece of heat
That dropped unnoticed from Her pocket.
I could believe today
In America untamed,
A place full of wild things and untamed peoples
A place where Spirit spreads
To ride the clouds
To sing its songs unhindered.
Nature has let down her locks today;
Who will look on her
To let themselves be consumed, entranced
By the beauty that lives on in spite of all our assaults -
Who will be distracted by the miracles we move through,
Feel the surge of the sea of life all around us,
Hear the whispered prayers
In the windsigh of the sleeping trees
Watch the sacred night come on
Announced by the rose glow behind the thumbnail moon -
Who will stand amid such things,
Yet not put aside for the moment
Those little cares we circumscribe our lives with,
To stand amazed to be here breathing,
Alive to feel how loving-close
Infinity holds us, claims us for its own;
Surely, not I alone.
I rest a hand on my sleeping child's chest;
Feel the heart fluttering beneath the skin;
I can sense a great wheel turning.
I wander out in the still warm darkness
That follows this day,
To look up at the starstrewn sky
See that great wheel begin its turning,
Stand amazed to be here breathing.
Stand, amazed to be.
Inside this temple made of brick and clay
the many shades of your heart
are the prisms of my soul
Pinioned and shackled to your fires
we are vaulted by our own desires
two lovers breathing as one
Outside this prison of hell stands my nemesis
buried behind its boulders I am decaying
like a rotting apple de-pitted then discarded
Bitwise assaults to my soul,
I summon courage and finally break out
of this ridged corrugated pas-a-deux.
Angry acts begin.
Harmful words would never flare,
Count to ten then once again.
Wildfire spreading fast,
With mistaken, muddled acts.
Smokey aftertaste will last.
Then finessed assaults,
Vainly exit, pride intact,
Casting blame, the other's fault.
Friendships fall head-long,
Disarrayed in stumbled steps.
Puzzled reasons blurred then gone.
Gene Bourne.
10-22-14
.
Word Quintet in C Major
By Stark Hunter
Open the door my friend,
Climb on in,
Join me here in this relentless caravan,
This unstoppable, this incontrovertible,
this inexorable movement,
To the depths of the dry gulf.
Join me here my friend,
In this annihilating armada,
This incontrovertible migration,
This inexorable swarm
To the watery crossroads of the dry places,
To the liquid asphalt of insipid time!
I stare at you from across the room here.
I stare and gawk and hawk at you,
And I feel the pelting rain of desire.
You look good over there, sitting
With beautiful gleaming crossed legs.
“Sorry, beg your pardon,
I say, but have we not met before?
Did we not share beers on the Terrace of Tyre
At sunset?
Did we not tell each other stories,
Old stories of love and betrayal and heartbreak?
At sunset?
Did we not look away from each other,
When stories of new love suddenly emerged,
As with a new sunrise?”
My friend, there is no
Escape from this throbbing hole, no
Escape from this cold numbing wind,
This whirlingly insane wind
Of cold blasts of killing ice.
And I ride here
Ride like a sweating Sultan,
Astride the mighty beast of Tyre!
Perched high in rich raiment,
I wave to the multitudes
I send a salute to the throng!
I ride shotgun here
Ride nice and easy
Like a tanning garçon on his off day,
Like a sitting trog waiting wistfully,
Waiting waiting for gams not intended for him.
My friend, the world turns and turns,
It turns today and tomorrow,
It will turn as the river turns in spring,
It will turn as a woman’s heart turns,
When eyes that once stared ahead, now look away.
It will turn my friends because it has to!
Riding, Riding, Riding….
Downhill now! The insane wind
Assaults me. Harasses me. Accosts me.
It presses its loose lips upon my face,
It seeks the mad blood of passion!
“Let us calm ourselves
Reassure ourselves
That all is right and as planned.
Let us all look at one another!
Let us all nod in agreement!
The days ahead will manifest themselves,
Transfigure themselves,
As blooms upon the water lilies.
“Love comforteth like sunshine after rain” Shakespeare
I sit beside the window with a frown.
Since early morning nothing has gone right.
The steady thrum of rain as it pours down
assaults my ears! I long to see sun’s light.
With plans I had this day now fallen through,
I watch the clouds which, like my thoughts, I find
are darkening. I don’t know what to do
about the woes I’ve harbored in my mind.
The hours have crawled, but unexpectedly
My love arrives home early, and he brings
A rose bouquet and a big hug for me!
The thrum of rain goes on, yet my heart sings,
for all I needed was to see his grin,
and sunshine has already been let in!
Written May 5, 2014
Moist jungle's steaming breath assaults my face
Molasses air I struggle to inhale
Your ruddy visage slowly drains to pale
Sharp cliff, black knife wound in the verdant space
Decrepit footbrige held up by mere grace
Each rope suspended taut by one sole nail
No time for turning back, it's move or fail
Their fever burns, thin lives that wane apace
We're down to you or me; I see I've lost
Your pallid tremors, so I walk on high
Death matters not, as all will share the cost
Without the cure, those that I love will die
Wood creaks as ropes strain, hands sweat, mind of frost
Firm terra I touch, sweet success is mine
7/25/16
Strange shadows on these coral walls
stay hidden from the setting sun,
yet creeping through the shafts of amber light
drag behind them to the high parapet
a cloak of utter darkness.
Fierce defended, now are none:
no frightened men to urge the heavy cannon round
no shrill alarm or battle cries;
the end of this, as every other day has sealed
a silence now complete.
Once we held here, on this foreign shore,
the fortress of our childhood dreams
and all the world’s assaults
seemed nothing then;
an ocean breeze would cool the hurt of falling
and bring sweet scents to pick us up again.
Across the bay the dhows set sail upon a rising tide
their canvass spread against the purple sky.
We watched their leaving long ago
but you are gone away now, gone to sleep
and no injured soul so left alone
can wait to watch them home again.
Yet I will stand, a little or a while,
and will not fear cold shadows rising
nor while breathing yield the fort to them;
in every breach I meet your laughing eyes
and feel the warming of remembered suns.
As the winds breathe heavily darkened within fury
Moaning filled with clouds begins speaking
Through stormy turbulent assaults with waves that kill
A ballad is blown away like feathers from angels wings
Rain falling heavily driven by natures unyielding force
Trees bend to salute the host's almighty anger
Hurricane's orchestra romancing chaos turns
Striking tempest flashing lightening power of creation speaks
Rumbling voices roaring echoes carried from the heaven's
The action and power of love both earthly and heavenly
Crackling forks sparking separating inside an air like music dawns
Floods flow down a neck chain around the mountain's face
Rushing to an ocean's source where it's kissed by the salt of grace
Washed in a seabed finding her resting place safe inside an oyster
Enormous waves sad and monotonous, which eventually dies
A collaborated poem
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid
14.09. 2017
tristich unrhymed
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
And still some nights you touch my dreams,
though all is done and past, it seems.
Yet, out of nothing– sheer surprise...
I wither when I see your eyes,
and all that I'd thought gone at last
assaults me, as if I had asked
to visit anguish once again,
return to how I suffered then.
And still you slip behind the veil
of sleep, a realm that's soft and frail,
and tangle into all that went
away, a grief that's through and spent.
And yet how fresh it seems from there,
that darkened place. So unaware
the sleeping heart, so feebly cast—
in dreams is bound to all that's past.
Beneath kohl sky, the war of words rattles
As fierce lightning of his voice, my thunderous replies
Pour a lethal elixir, its venom malignant
Demanding a power struggle between forces,
On one tearing night which assaults the senses:
How whipping air deepens a rugged course
Where darkness gathers heightened energy;
Vicious as the gnaws of a charged torrent.
I saunter out to clear an overcast mind,
Breathing in the rain, the moist vapor
While my fingers raise high in soulful appeal
Until a dot of a star enters into my body...
Gradually, the storm passes by, as if
Nothing on the byway stirs a gory hour;
That in pure clarity, I open the kitchen door
And maybe, through divine intervention,
He embraces me in the middle of his vulnerability.
Perfect Storm Contest ---for Craig Cornish
10/4/2017
It's 3 a.m. The universal witching hour, so of course, I'm wide awake.
The snarly opossums are on the porch, fighting over a delicious corn-fed steak.
Sophie Dog is on the back of the couch, growling at an unseen spirit.
Heavy cigarette smoke smell assaults my nose, proof my father is near it.
He has been gone since '84, but at 3 a.m. this does not matter.
Mother-in-law throws a blue dish in the kitchen, an ominous clatter.
"I know you are here," I haughtily remind them. yet with a bit of force.
"No reason to throw dishes or blow smoke, go back to your heavenly source."
A quick glimpse out of the corner of my eye, a smile reminiscent of Lee.
Time to go back to bed and astral travel with my ancestors around me.
Social Encyclopedia
The friends, family, and foe encyclopedia
Facebook, Instagram, Twitter Social Media
Everything you do is a recorded data upload
Even when you think that you're in stealth mode
Post pictures and thoughts, what you like and what you don't
You tell the world this, tell em' that, what you will, what you won't
People start what they call all out Facebook Wars
Multiple verbal assaults aimed at someone, they must be bored
Oh don't get me wrong all of these sites have their uses
But people tend to take things too far and abuse it
I shut down all of my profiles so I'm now outta the loop
Except for the very best one right here on Poetry Soup!
bmdavey@
03/05/16