Best Baleful Poems
OMENS
O’er wintry land bare trees now sway
On wing above, black birds traverse
Occluded skies of baleful grey
Outspreading wings imparting curse
Yet outcomes told by prescient sense
With omens of dark consequence
May be belied restoring sight
Of hope; see yon horizon bright
[Poem in 8x8 form]
Submitted to:-
Contest: Unrest of Spirit
Sponsor: Julia Ward
22 November 2018
Categories:
baleful, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Fear not the fierce wind, o gentle heart
Though it may rattle the eaves
And give no ear to its whispers with nothing to impart
But shallow promises that hang, like dried, parched leaves
Listen to its mournful wails on the way to some distant shore
Leaving in its trail, the harsh rawness of a chill
And envy not; give pity instead; be sure to keep no scores
For the warmth of a gentle heart is by far, richer still
For who can fathom the baleful howls invading valleys below;
Billowing across the fragile earth and her boundless seas?
Is it in anguish that she protests; who can really know?
Yet, judge not, o gentle heart, but like a blade of grass amidst a storm
Lay calmly into the wind; rely not upon your strength; stay strong
~*~
Categories:
baleful, fear, nature, uplifting,
Form:
Sonnet
I have claimed to be apolitical but there are times
when the crop is ready for harvesting, so I put fuel
in the John Deere, ink in my pen and wrote...
He'll get millions of votes for that nicked ear
The vengeful narcissist people should fear
Picasso President
With malicious intent
He should be given the famous Bronx Cheer!
It looks like the graffiti on the wall
Four more years and America will fall
Trump will blow his own horn
Guilty of loving p.o.r.n.
And the rape of all the women he's mauled
There's another Trump, Junior's daughter, Kai
Brought a tear or two to dear grandpa's eye
It was her intention
During the convention
To convince people that he's a good guy
Melania was there but just for show
Since he paid off Stormy... well uh, you know
She has kept her distance
Abhors his existence
She can't be with him since he's had a ho
His Trumpeters may be humbled one day
Those who will vote for him and have their say
Those who are so headstrong
Thinking he's done no wrong
The beast who led America astray
He hasn't made the US great again
He's torn the nation apart... friend from friend
Time will tell the story
But there'll be no glory
Picasso President is no Godsend.
Trump toadies must be in a state of bliss
When his venom spews like a snake, hiss, hiss
They praise the dictator
The alienator
His villainy too baleful to dismiss
I've never liked saying, "I told you so"
But D J Trump is a jerk and a schmo
He's a divisor of men
When he's elected again
His tyranny will reign like a deathblow
I've read a few posts about Trump and yet
Not one comment did I write to upset
Another poet's view
I expect that from you
Without hostility or epithet
Categories:
baleful, how i feel,
Form:
Limerick
Do you dare to hear this story,
listen to the rant of a cuckold tale
This story will give you nightmares
if your masculinity has begun to fail
Despondent voice of said henpecked man
was recorded secretly at a support group therapy session
He swear he loves his wife,
don't know why he picked up the knife
Says he has a wonderful life,
but something is not quite right
Then he contradicts what he just said,
the reasons why are mixed up in his head
He confess that he just wanted to scare her ...
frighten her bad
But he wasn't too convincing,
she only started to laugh
She commanded him to put the knife down,
then started to throw her 130-pound weight around
Used sex as the ultimate weapon,
said love was going out of town ... indefinitely
He said he begged like never before,
pleading with her to please don't leave out the door
Said she just slapped his pride on the backside,
told him the bank account was gonna take a nosedive
Raised her eyebrows and gave a baleful stare,
then said he was having it too good
He said when she gets to talking like that,
he's learned over time not to say anything back
Letting out a small sigh, he said
he simply becomes a docile little boy
and go sit elsewhere
Says the only time he roars like a lion,
is when she tries to take away his adult toys
Trying to stop him from getting season tickets
is gonna cause him to make a lot of noise
So she just let him be for awhile,
let him calm down ... give him a warm smile
He said being henpecked ain't so bad,
he gets his favorite meal after breaking mad
Yet and still, he seemed kinda sad
Now that the group therapy is over,
he said his wife is gonna come get him
And make a point to remind him
of how he dresses so bad
That he's such a loser, just like her dad
Categories:
baleful, abuse, marriage, perspective, satire,
Form:
Verse
Oft' I wonder what my cat Simba thinks behind that baleful stare.
Is he planning roguery or just building castles in the air?
Perhaps he's reviewing strategies for catching a bird to devour.
Here's what I sense goes on behind his condescending glower!
I 'puuur'ceive he's thinking, "Hey, remove yourself from my chair!
Who said you could sit there - that's my favorite lair!
Will you at least make room on your very ample lap,
So I can curl up and take my usual afternoon nap?"
Many times he glares at me and emits a plaintive 'meow'.
I'm sure he's thinking, "Hey, pal, ain't it time for chow?"
He stalks about the house as if it was his sole domain,
Thinking, "I guess I'll benevolently allow you to remain!"
With soulful eyes he invites me to scratch behind his ears.
If I try to comb his coat, "Oh no you don't!" and he disappears!
Sprawling upon the window sill he gazes across the street,
Eyeing the Persian cat, thinking, "Meeee-Wow! Her I'd like to meet!"
When he begins to purr and 'puuur'sistently rubs against my feet,
He's probably thinking, "Hey, old buddy, how about a treat?"
My cat thinks, "He's not a bad sort, him I can tolerate.
He provides my grub - furthermore, with him I can communicate!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 1 in Francine Roberts' "Pick A Pet" Contest - July 2011
Categories:
baleful, animals, funnycat, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Notes played by the wind sounded like 'Taps.'
A sad song without lyrics, expressing lament
Sorrow pelted me like crashing white caps
Beneath the fading light of the sun's descent
darkness gathered in a leaden sky
as I whispered with tearful breath, "Goodbye."
So many words we'd left unspoken
when fear prevented us from speaking
Somewhere along our journey we were broken,
never discovering what it was we were seeking.
I laid a rose from my garden then turned to go.
One set of footprints imbedded in the snow.
Behind me arose the baleful cawing
soaring in the sky, a flock of ebon crows
Tears coursing from my eyes as if I were thawing
The wintry world held me in its throes.
On I walked, pathway lighted by the moon,
listening to the notes of 'Taps,' a haunting tune.
Categories:
baleful, dark, sorrow,
Form:
Rhyme
She came to me with hooded eyes,
her frank suspicion undisguised,
pushed to the brink, I surmised,
come to hear me prophesize.
Candles flickered in the room,
shadows darting through the gloom,
she smelled of musty, cheap perfume,
I recognized the scent of doom.
My hands caressed the crystal ball,
gazing in, I saw it all,
I tried to make my face a wall,
to shield her from the pain I saw.
What I told, I chose with care,
yet, stunned, she sat back in her chair,
people seem so unprepared,
but why'd they ask, if they're so scared?
She glared at me with baleful ire,
spat at me, called me a liar,
fled as if her hair was on fire,
the psychic life is God's satire.
©Danielle White
Categories:
baleful, mystery, on work and
Form:
Rhyme
Lavish me not with any parting gifts
when I die
Give me no long goodbye speeches
with flowery words
I demand an eulogy of silence
Extol not my memory,
for I am just a mere mortal with feet of clay
now turning to dust
Bury me with no honors,
raise not the banner of celebration
To joyously lift up my life
on the day I'm to be lowered into the ground
is such cruel irony
Laugh and give gleeful shouts if you must,
if this brings comfort to your soul
Easing your fears,
as the procession of my casket marches
to the hymnal of the worms
Death is the last reproach,
the breath of life stamped out
Sin in the end wins ...
of this, there can be no doubt
Look away from the mourning tears and baleful cries,
and mark the final abdication of life
with the covering of the eyes
Categories:
baleful, bereavement, death, grave, self,
Form:
Elegy
In one ghost whisper of a town,
the mourning sunset had bloodshot eyes
A tombstone place that was
long shadow
past it’s boomtown prime
Withering eureka hope fills the short cups
of the abandoned mine folk
Whiskey tears takes a canary desperado gulp
Purgatory waiting ~ Gut rot
has all the suicidal time in the world
to stomach more wasted dreams
On this dying twilight night,
a bad moon is darkly rising ...
as the half-empty
saloon
doors
swing
During visitation of a short desert weep,
a 6-foot four
twin emerald glow mysteriously
steps out of the downpour
A black-cloaked man,
with twelve lead fingernails,
was tapping a cold metal dirge melody
as he walked in
Taking up space for two,
the raven-haired man said to no one in particular,
Death was his sidearm friend
After ordering the strongest bottle
from a shakily, weak-handed bartend ...
the tall, dark-clothed man
saw gambling courage slowly returning
in the pale faces of the paying patrons
Green hue greed shone in the mirror reflection —
his baleful, beryl stare saw that avarice look before
Plenty of bottom card dealt undertaker action
was coming ... coffin photos taken of a bloody floor
Midnight was always the best time
for quick draw ire killings
When drunken surfeit hearts had a belly full
of wanton violence feelings
Losing was the spark
that lit the firewater spillings
Scarlet darkness overshadowed
the cemetery sob kneelings
Cloaked in the mantle of a soul reaper,
the blackness of a red bullet hole
was a grim reminder
to those witnessing the terrifying departure
of slow hand ...
cheating, widow purse keepers —
That a dozen toasts for the living
always were closing-of-the-eye cheaper
Categories:
baleful, allegory, death, symbolism, violence,
Form:
Epic
That life is a struggle, there's no denying
when the distance between light and dark
is just one misstep across the boundary line
Problematic for mankind since time began
Prompted by the reminder of crows flying
I have need to heed his words in the great book
There's truth there to find courage and strength
Armor and shield to prepare me for the fight
In chapter and verse I found it when I searched
for the way out, a way to escape the sea of madness
I pray not to get lost in the dark swells I abhor
It's the only way to assure my soul's salvation
Ravens roost there, in a forest of leafless trees
where damnation spills its virulent seeds
There, in the shadows of the valley of death—
like carrion for the picking, is how they see me
Blackguard avians wanting to spread their disease
Beady eyes following me as I walk through the mist
Waiting like vultures for me to take my last breath
To save myself from plight of battle and eternal death
I pray to defeat the demons crying out for me,
concentrate on the consciousness of mind over matter
and denounce the thought of "What will be, will be."
I must avoid the darkness for in its shadows, sings
the ruthless caws of ravens, fluttering their black wings
I've come to despise the sound of their beastly cries
Behind me the sound arises again, that baleful cawing
and ominous sight; the murder of crows taking flight
Overhead, they squawk a challenge with talons clawing
but I will face the soulless demons that tyrannise me
To their offers of temptation, I vow never to succumb
for a sin it would be to forsake my will to remain free
Categories:
baleful, dark, fear,
Form:
Free verse
OMEN
O’er wintry land bare trees now sway
On wing above, black birds traverse
Occluded skies of baleful grey
Outspreading wings impart a curse
Omen of darkest consequence
Outcomes perceived by prescient sense
Oppress the spirit, damn the day
Categories:
baleful, dark,
Form:
Verse
There exists a space between us
that has widened since the passing,
which slowly fills with more distrust
as faint demons start trespassing.
The closeness of a touch still there;
but eyes that once stared into mine
now focus elsewhere, in despair;
beyond, and to that baleful shrine.
Words attempt to bridge the distance;
depart to fade, arrive unheard.
We live in ghostly coexistence,
you, deep in bitter loss, interred.
And so we spend our long days thus;
love parting, contempt amassing.
There exists a space between us,
that has widened since the passing.
Categories:
baleful, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
22 June 2010
A Breakaway
For mankind has the power to think big
History puts them on the pedestal of their career
Aimless drifting until fatally engaged into a drilling rig
Raised a surface at the heart of the sea to exploit oil on its frontier
Oil wells at the deepest sea-bed formed million years ago
Also, a marine habitat that proliferates at the cold bottom
Rendezvous for waterfowl and aquatic mammals arrived apropos
To add spectacle to the blue water, as accustomed
The freshwater flowing in a cascade of sparks
The sea free access to an ocean while some in landlocked
Life on Earth comes in the seas and we proceed to embark
As ocean currents supply the heat energy round the clock
Many ritually unclean substances are passing into oceans
Adulterating the purity of water in its freshness
Oil spills from off-shore and tanker spread discoloration
Suffocating marine life and ingesting illness
Chronicling the ecological cycle literally affect the food chain
Stripping resistant to their organic structure and suffer
From the toxins of oil spill prevents water replenishment
Coating aquatic surface with stain holding tougher
A closer look at dead birds and aquatic mammals
Leaving a baleful mark on the waterways
Cleaning up the breakdown oil is costly and fatal
That I may see no more escalating sense of bad omen into the ocean’s forays
13th place winner to:
GULF OIL SPILL CONTEST
7/4/2010 Sponsored by Team PoetrySoup
Categories:
baleful, health, life, nature, ocean,
Form:
Rhyme
Don’t look into his soul on this all hallows eve,
for it takes just a glance to be gripped by his spell.
What starts out as a dream quickly spirals to hell
where your mind will see things you don’t want to believe.
As macabre and unearthly scenes interweave
you’ll be roused from your sleep by the clock’s baleful knell.
Don’t look into his soul on this all hallows eve,
for it takes just a glance to be gripped by his spell,
then entombed between worlds, death from life will not cleave,
in a state of decay you’ll eternally dwell.
If it happens to you, you'll have no voice to tell,
curs-ed eyes will see all, but your last breath will leave.
Don’t look into his soul on this all hallows eve.
Categories:
baleful, holiday
Form:
Rhyme
Sunlit porch dimmed by the sensation
Your alluring gloom, my fascination
Stark battle lines within me divided
The siren call of self-degradation
Serpent and preacher wrestling inside
Moving feet kill the negotiation
Ah, to circle your star’s periphery
Feel your dying light irradiate me
Drawn ever down by fell gravity
It chains me deep within my core
Snuffing out cool light of purity
A decaying orbit evermore
Light consumed by the fascination
Dank air, charred fragrance of damnation
Our baleful destiny is quickening
Eyes lock, ineluctable fixation
Within my throat, it rises, sickening
Yearning for ebony immolation
Entangled by the melodrama
Of this dying star’s miasma
In its final desperate brilliance
Inexorably rendering my heart
Falling, falling, for the killing
As the black hole pulls it apart
Deep in me swells her dark radiance
Cry desperate plea to other luminance
Every atom screaming temptation
Sweet agony of impending corruption
Yet it cracks with frosty hesitation
My supernova of self-destruction
Roaring deafness to echoing silence
Cold, vacant throne of inner tyrant
Flame of wayward desire’s treachery
Quenched by inscrutable mystery
Deepest soul plea answered, leaving me
Just cold embers of pitch black memory
6/1/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Categories:
baleful, dark, desire, star,
Form:
Rhyme