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Ballad Poem
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I love you,
that's not hard for me to say,
its not a prediction, or a reflection, it just is
a motion in my heart's ocean,
an ocean named Odyssey
a color called True For You,
I don't want to hide that from you like sparkle from a jewel,
hiding love is a difficult game,
an invisible flame starving for the fame of your name,
and sometimes love can get lost in the playing fields,
My soul can't wait 'till another lifetime to spark on your's,
my body won't survive the well wishes of Eternity's elasticity,
the gravity of my greed for you will not escape the orbit of obsession,
I can't afford another lifetime, another baptism in Beauty's bemusement,
Time will not outflank my love for you,
graves & guesses, epitaphs & epiphanies would only bruise my passion,
a will power refusing to withstand the winks of the clock towers torment,
the thick wick of my wonderlust must combust now or never,
we need to turn winter into spring,
flip silver into gold,
to make touch our bread,
push pink into red -
J.A.B.
Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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~The Untold Fatal Attraction Poem~
Mid-morning she sees the sun ahead
Her death flowed in a messaged bottle
Gazing into her brown eyes upon all open sores,
Her conscience dark and gray a never-ending war!
A giant cyclone of a thousand thoughts swirled around this little girl.
Inflicting away the pain, through the comfort of others pen
The way she twisted and twisted life’s perception was out of her control
Inside she knew the glass slipper was never hers to show off
She is baring nothing but a tainted pen, walking throughout eternity’s sand
A prosecutor of misdeeds, accomplishing what, without knowing the way
Departing from her fractured self, she begins to slip into a righteous form,
Twirling her twilight's pen like a baton, spinning it to one final stand
She awakens in a dream, where her sadness does not allow the light to reform
Her body is weak and pale against the birth of her undying sun
Staring down into the deepness of every-bodies abyss
Inside all souls is where she felt lighter, than the retarded sun gives
A crimson sky follows her just to reveal her diminished soul,
A life of shunning out the city glow will always dwell deep inside her
Sleeping under society as one, insulting the taste of innocent blood
Forgetting the vengeance, in a dimension where the pen is mightier than the sword
How did she let it come to this?
In one feeling she fell in love with the spirit of the living rhyme
Watching from a cave, with a diabolical look
Refusing to grasp the self - nature and kill off the destroyer's will
A price beyond this enigmatic world, craving to be just like them
Condemning her meaning to a blasphemy of white butterflies
Destroying her poetic meaning that was destined to dance a tangle of endless rage
In love with the essence of her deceased will
She clings on to the dimness and brilliance at the same time
All corpses lost beyond the girl in question,
Sympathetic in a bizarre language, she mutters out sweetness
Her heart mended, recognizing all the adoration and poetic addiction
Exchanging the real terror, fixated by the life force of her poetic destruction
Giving birth to a new revelation
Now she will never deceive her love for the making of true art,
Not wanting to belong in this wretched world with her destroying criteria,
Her soul sails looking for a new era where love will no longer generate
As she loathes the love and decides not to destroy this generation with hate
At last, longing this one day with the angel of death
With a closing teardrop, one last thought
My death will not be the end; only the ascension~
by;pd
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
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Ballad Poem
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*The Dead Poet*
Many blocks along the road,
Kicking down walls of heavy stones,
Yet no one could draw through the walls of her lonely bones.
A poet who could not write what's inside.
Her pen had gone ink dry.
Her beady eyes lost the feel of an angelic realm.
She tried!
She tried until she could no longer cry!
A poet who stuttered with the mind and out came no words.
This poet hangs on a mound with a picture that tells a sad tale.
A poem that broke verses in a Carpe diem dream.
She ruffled her arms once more as if she could fly.
Still nothing,
Everything felt dead inside.
Trap in a mental state that clots the willing vein.
Isolating her form in a room with no door.
She stays this away from the feel of the marvel pen.
To never go back, and feel again.
In the most ominous way,
She lets out a cry,
A cry, never heard before.
Running from this evil, that stain her world.
Words buried deep and behind a new exterior box,
Her insides grasp all the air of airs once alive.
A talon drop into the next,
This troublesome poet gave up on everything.
Had nothing left, but the empty space within.
Next!
She curls herself into a fetal world.
At last, she closes her eyes, to feel no more.
A poet who died the day, joy wiped the glee from her face.
by;PD
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
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Ballad Poem
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Listen to poem:
~My Nutty Squirrel Poem~
Up in a tree, on a branch
Now you see me, now you don't!
Sneaky and fast, I'm adorable
Now, why would you hunt or shot me for fun?
Do you like, how fast I run?
I'm not just another chipmunk
Stuffing my face with nuts,
I'm classy and beautiful,
The best part of nature.....
Red pointed ears, I hear you drawing near.
Chuckle, chuckle, caffeine free
I saw you looking at my fine coat.
Fluffy and curious, touch me and I'm Calling PETA!
See YA--- Life Is Beautiful!!!
I'm stuffing these nuts back into my mouth
and Jumping onto another tree :) The End
........
Love The Squirrel from another World.
Love LINDA
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016
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Ballad Poem
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Crying River (The Untold Ballad)
Undercover waters of rain dash
Cold children, no smiling splash
Tragic sobs, epic force of the mountain rain
Beautiful as it may seem -shallow basin
---Dream---
She cries a tune,
Mocking the Maple lands, a beautiful tune
Crooked Cornwall, she steams with the moon
Oceanic dreams, monsoon season, she swoon's
Frozen, dead, ice skating rink
Her wind, Pretty Chains O Lake
Wet and Wild, the Elk drinks from her garden
Water falls from the lids of Jordan
Beautiful as it may seem with open curtain
When the ocean succeeds away from the sea
She's wide awake during winter's rain and breeze
Lost in the mud's of Bellaire's heartache,
River Blues, ice cold snap, bayou stirring up
Racing rivers crying by the western gutter
Silent, bells chime in the Black Mallard waters
Streams, blowing and drying dew droplets
Little rapid tears, everything spotless
Sugar, Swan waves down by Devils Creek
Listen to the thunder bay rolling deep
Beautiful as it may seem, she weeps
A northern world with streaks of falling rain
Pretty running white hair pane
A weather vane, snow dangles above her domain
Beautiful crying winds
In the Eyes of Michigan
~3/5/14~
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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The First Texian Macabre Arena Ballad (The extended free-fallen edition)
In another life, is where I first saw your face!
One summer afternoon, lying wounded next to the dead
Unopened gun powder, mass destruction, a land of disgrace
A blood thirst battlefield is where I first saw your face
The sound of war, hidden behind bleeding hands
Crawlers, render their lives giving grace
Jaws of steel, broken, embracing, warm feelings
Summer rain, lungs filled with blood, one last post
Glorious by numbers, screaming blades
Gemstone in touch with the Holy Ghost
Soldiers come in a little close
Crawling, missing limbs,
Twisted nightmare with no ending
Macabre reminder, retracing the aroma of eternal life
Secrets buried like a treasure under walls of sudden death
Revolutionary tears found on a rusted Bowie knife
Lanterns, crackling against the dying wind
Dirt piles of crushed windpipes -- sudden death
Rummage like garbage, the dead Texian
A Falling Alamo Star, taking one last twinkle upon the sky
Forgotten Patriots, I can't remember the names
Written on walls, I can't remember the names
A folktale arena is where I first saw your face
Fairness of stuttered surrender slicing through iron brace
Crawling, with the hunger to live, a clean finish with grace
Exposing, scars needing mother's hands, mothers face
Across infested meadows, the aroma of burning skin
Distant, before Texas and her annexation,
Gruesome, before I lived, Texas and her mortal sin
I pledge, my love, the honor, a legion, I'm a full blown Texian
To Every Forgotten Texian Patriot----- We Win!
By: PD
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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The Tale below was carved one night,
Upon the Stone, by candlelight
...most won’t believe, but some just might
.........most won’t believe, but some just might
. Preface
Well James made Beth his lovely bride
(And angels smiled, though teary eyed)
...their bodies bound, their spirits tied
.........their bodies bound, their spirits tied
Upon her hand, a shimmer shone,
As bright as blood, a ruby Stone
...and brighter still, as love had grown
.........and brighter still, as love had grown
Soon James was sent to man a sail
So Beth removed her wedding veil
...her eyes were bright, her face was pale
.........her eyes were bright, her face was pale
“Well, I’ll be here when you return”
Said Beth to James, who kissed in turn
...a kiss that made her body burn
.........a kiss that made her body burn
. BETH’S TALE
1. The Dream
One night, within a dream deformed,
The cawing of a Crow informed
“...a Ship was stripped where winter stormed
.........a Ship was stripped where winter stormed
Midst winds and waves the thunder boomed
The Ship of Death was surely doomed
...the sea engulfed, the sea entombed
.........the sea engulfed, the sea entombed
Your James... denied by Davy Jones!
His spirit gone, his flesh and bones
...are resting now amongst the Stones
.........are resting now amongst the Stones”
2. The Quest
Awoken by the ebon Wight
And beckoned by the baneful bight
...I left before the morning light
.........I left before the morning light
Throughout the realm I rode a roan
Until, in time, I reached the Stone
...where shades and dreams in darkness groan
.........where shades and dreams in darkness groan
While skipping up and down the sky
A missing moonbeam mocked my eye
...enough to make a Swallow cry
.........enough to make a Swallow cry
For someone stole a star or two
And something else that fate withdrew –
...my jewel of joy, my James Bijou
.........my jewel of joy, my James Bijou
The shadows of the evening swelled
Where demons of the dusk had dwelled
...and in the far, a vesper knelled
.........and in the far, a vesper knelled
The Stone, beneath the sky, stood cold –
Between the runes, a vapour strolled
...a cloak of fleecy fog consoled
.........a cloak of fleecy fog consoled
A Raven on a branch, enthroned,
Her wings waved once, a wail intoned
...beyond the bay, a banshee moaned
.........beyond the bay, a banshee moaned
I lay beside the Stone, his bride
I lay beside the Stone and cried
...but were it I, instead, that died
.........but were it I, instead, that died
The rainbow of the moon fell dim
A midnight Swan soon ceased to swim
...as if to hide all hint of him
.........as if to hide all hint of him
Between the willows in the swale
There sang a Bird, a Nightingale
...which left me faint and feeling frail
.........which left me faint and feeling frail
3. Contact
I felt him breathe within a breeze
Responding to my anguished pleas
...and leaves blew by abandoned trees
.........and leaves blew by abandoned trees
“I miss you too, my darling Beth”
Re-echoed from the Ship of Death
...the future buried in a breath
.........the future buried in a breath
The Stone lit up a ruby sheen
And clouds were kindled crystalline
...with consequences, unforeseen
.........with consequences, unforeseen
Above, the wretched Raven soared
To where the Ship of Death lay moored
...beneath, the icy ocean roared
.........beneath, the icy ocean roared
4. Release
I’m joined with James beneath the Stone,
Though to the Ship my spirit’s flown,
...for nevermore to be alone
.........for nevermore to be alone
. Epilogue
That night the wayward winds were weird
The Ship of Death had disappeared
...coyotes called and mortals feared
.........coyotes called and mortals feared
At dusk, the craven shadows crawled
At dawn, the winds of mourning called
...upon the Stone two names were scrawled
.........upon the Stone two names were scrawled
The Raven sits, with wings outspread,
Atop the Stone which shades the dead
...it sometimes shimmers ruby red
.........it sometimes shimmers ruby red
. Epitaph
Between the sounds, where silence seeps,
Their love lives on and never sleeps
...and yet, the weeping willow weeps
.........and yet, the weeping willow weeps
inspired by ~fc~
DEFINITIONS
Wight (obsolete): a supernatural being, creature
Bight: a bay or gulf
Swale: a moist depression in a tract of land
Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2013
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Ballad Poem
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--Virginia Slim--
Different eyes, the same world
Ancient skin, dirty Indian Girl
Smokey, eyes, exotic raven hair
---Now listen to the colors, of transformation,
On the day she was born, the wind blew in,
A blessing ---her soul, fallen from the heavens
A gorgeous puff of smoke, Miss Virginia Slim
Able to walk the world with an open mind, she twirls
Pocahontas, one of her many names.
She carves, and climbs on trees, this little Indian Girl,
Her feathers ride with the wind, against her red titian skin
Daughter of Chief Powhatan, a powerful tribal, red man
Peace and love with the Indians of her Virginia Lands,
Many myths, many stories, maybe a mad woman,
A new Christian, living sad poverty, a silent hero,
Twisted tales, from savage green to ivory white religion
In her eyes, life never was about greed and skin
Her new look attained an altitude precision
Pocahontas tricked and captured,
Set to sail another tribe, lands were taken over,
Boat sailed out of Virginia Lands
Tribes acclaimed her to be wild and ambitious
"The naughty one," searching for admission
Native American child, before the princess,
Her beautiful soul, a short auspicious beginning
Leaving her world, beautiful and fearless
Forgetting her roots-- From Mother Willow's Vision
Pocahontas, the Indian Legend from, The Virginia Lands
by;PD
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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"All Children Are Beautiful"
His heart of white, deep shallow wells, yet beautiful
He smirks, a grin, an ego that won't let me in' -he's beautiful
Bastard of beauty, running ashes without a name
A face with no claim, a young man pound from shame
What is his sin, he's beautiful!
I want to breathe from his ashes, swim through his veins
I want him to come into my light, like a good dame
I sing and tell a tale, a Bastard through the night
His eyes, I waged, I was young and poor, I was saved
Lying down, in the arms of my white knight
My hair he caressed, he came to my light
The furnace burned, the night was fast becoming trite
A lover, he did it well then went back to his wife
A moment so golden, the ages live, his son is born
Another Bastard brought into this world
By:
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
I couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
A song about old promises
Made so long ago
Created and cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke
Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Memory of a mother
Shared my dreams and really cared
Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Mama…
I know I wasn’t there……
For you
Would have placed
A magic carpet
‘neath your weak and shaky legs
Would have raised
A strong west wind
Let you breathe with ease again
Would have bribed
God’s venal angels
Come and soothe your endless pain
Would have vanquished
All the demons
And bring peace to you again
Be the child
I never knew
In a land
We won’t grow old
Be the light
I always loved
Warmed my dark
And lonely soul
Be the girl
Playing games
In a world
The sun won’t set
Be the laughter
Calms my heart
I never will forget
I won’t forget, won’t forget
This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
Couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
Song about old promises
Made so long ago
Created….cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke
I broke my promises, oh mama
Now you’ve gone away
I’m broken
Drowning in the pain each day
I’m drowning…drowning...drowning…drowning
This song is for my mother
Let her hear me…….
Copyright © Catman Cohen | Year Posted 2011
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Ballad Poem
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I lift you up, delicately
like a bouquet of flames in pink patient fever,
romantically, I rove your surface with fingertips that tingle,
the texture of your treated cover tempts an impatient lover,
I read your Title, Her World, Her War
subtitle, Surviving Sorrow & Love,
your emblem, embossed in opal
a quill spun across a heart spelling your soul,
I spread you open with both hands
my grip holding the breadth of your body
a scent of sensuous ink unfurles into my inquisitive senses
raising you into my fascinated face
smelling the cleavage of your binding
sailing my lips down the center of your special secret
having your silky ribbons root around my fingers,
breathing, in warm curiosity on your exotic fibers,
Loving me as I hold you in wonder,
as I finger your pages with fawning pursuit of pleasure,
speedily you whisper my name with no refrain
as my moist voice recites
your poetry of paradise and pressure points,
I venture deeper into your voluptuous volume
feeling sensations of starlight I do consume,
in your tome of thick passion I find a home,
I like to read you in the suspense of night
searching your love lines, tasting your grape vines,
touching your emotions, embracing your sweet seductions,
you get into my nerves like electric sugar
illuminated by your poems of ardor and prose of candor,
intrigued by the penmanship of a Princess, curvaceous and calculating,
I turn to the Introduction, to see a photo of the great Authoress
a face pretty in courage, a smile of beautiful strategy
your body of work legendary,
I kiss you because I must -
J.A.B.
Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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NOW
Well, GI Jack is welcome back, he left his legs in 'Nam.
He wakes at night in sweat and fright, then drinks another dram.
He doesn't know quite where to go, so seeks his uncle, Sam.
BEFORE
One can't ignore - his ma was poor, and life was sometimes cruel,
yet Jack was brave and well behaved and surely no one's fool
so joined the ranks that man the tanks, as soon as he left school
He learned to kill our foes at will (ordained a sacred rite),
and packed his bag and wrapped his flag and went away to fight.
And yes, the tide was on our side (for, clearly, might makes right)
Through tangled days in jungles' maze, he sought the enemy
behind the trees where, ill at ease, he fought the Yellow sea -
upon the waves of sunken graves he sailed a killing Spree
The napalm dropped and cooked the crops, burnt huts along the way
and tanks, with ease, mowed down the trees and villages of clay.
Yes, turret guns were loads of fun with roaring roundelays
While on the hunt with other grunts, he burned some babes alive
and wondered why frail things must die, while evil's phantoms thrive -
When folly ends, he'll make amends if only he'll survive
With booby traps (sticks dipped in crap)... yes, Charlie fought unfair.
He hid in holes like snakes and voles and snuck up everywhere
and like a mite beneath the night, caught Jackie unaware
At battle's end, Jack sought his friends - their souls were washed away
and only he and destiny were left in disarray -
with bed and pan, just half a man, the man of yesterday
When Jackie woke, beyond the smoke, his frame no longer whole,
he found instead a medalled thread, some wraps to hide the hole,
and realized another prize: a chair on wheels to roll
Across his chest (you've surely guessed) his medals shone, arrayed.
His head felt light, as well it might, at Victory Day Parade
for when he rolled, while others strolled, his boots no longer weighed
AFTER
Well, Jack stayed home (no roads to Rome) to start his life anew
receiving dole (that took its toll) which fell in Sam's purview,
but soon enough, when times got tough, his uncle, Sam, withdrew
To walk the streets with fine elites (or someone else who begs)
or find a job (or even rob) requires both your legs,
and those that don't and those that won't are those we call the dregs
For getting by he tried to ply and mine his medals' worth -
a tinny cup, a hungry pup near loamy pits of earth,
and best of all, per protocol, beneath a bridge, a berth
He clutched a sign 'A dime to dine?', if anybody cared,
but soon he found, as time unwound, that victors seldom shared.
And Jackie's pride was slowly fried by vacant eyes that stared
He took to drink to break the link with thoughts of what he'd done,
though threads of doubt began to flout the yarns Big Brother spun
of freedom's ring and other things like what it was we'd won
He told the breeze his vague unease; his words infused the air
and like the fogs above the bogs, soon floated through the square
where people sat at tea to chat, and thought 'How could he dare?'
But freedom's price is never nice: like storms before the flood
the Daily Rag was on a jag, was looking out for blood,
deemed Jackie's thoughts untamed and fraught, then dragged him through the mud
By snooping clues, they plucked his views like grapes upon the vine.
Big Brother came, blamed Jackie's name for thinking out of line,
shut Jack away from light of day while letting freedom shine
The Junto Brass, with eyes of glass, were robed in fine array
to hear the words (though slightly slurred) the witness gasped to say,
while Justice snored (the water board awash with Perrier)
Well, Jack was charged with laws enlarged in secret dossiers
within the guise of spreading lies and leading thoughts astray -
The Jury's out... the rabble shout 'well someone's gotta pay'
The Judge (who fears the mind’s frontiers), he turned his head to yawn
while making haste through courtroom waste, though slightly pale and wan -
The voodoo Lune withdrew as soon as Night condemned the Dawn
ETERNITY
While in his cell, the verdict fell - the sighs of Silence, rife
While in his cell, the verdict fell - the Reaper played a fife
While in his cell, the verdict fell - the price was Jackie's life
Epilogue
While censor’s cooks are roasting books (and truth) on stakes ablaze,
well, Jackie's head (though chopped and shed) still thinks about the praise
for deeds once done in victories won when cruising in a craze,
and then again about the sin of thinking, nowadays,
where, absently, humanity is served in urns on trays -
and, reconciled, it simply smiles at fortune's funny ways
Epitaph
A mind was caught while thinking thoughts neath Sammy’s prying gaze
and forced to stop by concept cops, else join the castaways.
For now it's law to hold in awe the brave new world's malaise
and dance like mimes to rigid rhymes (which no one disobeys)
and celebrate with white-washed pate, adorned with dead bouquets -
with freedom’s death, time holds its breath, and waits for better days...
08/08/2013
Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2013
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Ballad Poem
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You have seen three thousand suns
You will witness six thousand more
Feel the warm breeze and your lover's kiss
As the sun sets upon an ancient shore
Place your sweet head upon soft sand
From puzzled dreams answers are spoken
What is fixed beyond sun and stars
By doubters can never be broken
Let the connections beneath your skin
Connect your heart fully with your beautiful mind
The mysteries of love will open your heart
Without love we are nothing but blind
In your dreams you will be surprised
As you listen, answers will be spoken
as you're suspended within vibrant colours
Tomorrow will no longer be broken
You should know you're formed in perfection
You were always meant to be free
Never worry about tomorrow
Doubt and fear are a weak enemy
Float high upon ardent breeze
As you gaze into your lover's eyes
Strength comes from fully giving yourself
Within passion you are lifted up to peaceful skys
Let the tingling convert, until it no longer hurts
Your numbness will lead to gain
Sunshine is pretty and it is pure
yet there is much to be gained from the rain
As each splendid rhyme
builds on your last line
Life will become sweet on your lips like wine
ocean waves coming in, will help you begin
Until sadness and pain become gossamer thin
For dear girl
the ocean awaits
The sunset will accompany your need
You will feel angels weep
Who were lost to the deep
As the sound of true love reaches their ears
As melodies play
your heart begins to race
As your lover feels your lips upon his face
A moment can be
an eternity
Within a pause you find a sacred place
Metallic or not from chains you break free
You're exactly at the place where you need to be
The sweet nectar of love
Raining down from above
A gift so splendid for the world to see
One day soon much later on
You will hear the angels say
"I remember you when, you were so young and free
just six thousand suns from yesterday
Your love took our breath away!"
Written in response to Heather Ober's "Unchained" Poem.
If you haven't read her poem please do.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
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Ballad Poem
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I am not a father
Nor I am a mother
I am just a daughter
That is growing better...
Father, you have been away
I truly wish you have stayed
Hugging me as I lay
I don't need much penny...
All I have been missing is you my daddy
Your love and your real company...
Look, how I am now
I pursued my little vow
Hoping always, You'll be proud
It's alright if you'll not be loud...
All I want is for us to bond...
Yes, I am neither a kid nor a child
Ever anymore
But still, there is that longing
I cannot deny...
I miss you much, daddy...
(c)
contest: POEM FOR DADDY
SPONSOR: LEONORA GALINTA
2ND PLACE - TO GOD BE THE GREATEST GLORY...
NOTE: I REALLY MISS A FATHER'S LOVE..
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2013
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Ballad Poem
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There once was a little snowflake
that was beautiful, cold and white
He was created up high within the clouds
during a storm one winters night
There were millions and millions of other flakes
but, no two that look alike
So, every snowflake received a name
and, his given name was Mike
Now as long as the wind was blowing hard
the more Mike hung around
But, it made him large and heavy
For, now he's heading towards the ground
There was Susan, Steven, Jimmy and Kyle
There was Sally, Kim and bill
They all came down together with Mike
as they landed on a sill
Of a cold and frosty window
on that stormy winters night
They gathered all together
as they waited for morning light
The sun then rose above the horizon
it's light...lit up every flake
The colors that came from all Mike's friends
a rainbow it did make
The beautiful snow lit morning
left Mike nowhere else to roam
But, he was happy to be there with all his friends
as he made that sill his home
Copyright © Roger Horsch | Year Posted 2013
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Ballad Poem
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’Tis Spring
(this is the real title, which I am unable to post this way in the title heading)
Rejuvenate! ’Tis spring.
Cruel winter’s lost its cling.
We wake across this earth
To welcome its rebirth.
Give praise and with a joyful voice sing.
’Tis time of spring. Rejoice!
Reverence with glad noise.
In flowered meadows meet
To dance with merry feet.
Bring lutes, flutes, drums and resonant voice.
Reflect. Again. . . ’tis spring.
Robin’s on the wing.
Lean upon a fruited tree.
Hear the drone of honeybee.
Breathe the bloom of lovely lilac sprig.
’Tis time. Reconcile.
Greet each creature with a smile.
As Christ for us bled tears
To banish our worst fears,
See everyone as God’s dear child.
’Tis season to re-grow.
Heed nature’s lead below.
Each gift you have to nourish
Must be shared to flourish.
Replenish bounties God did you bestow.
For the Love of Nature Poetry Contest of Carlton D Kennedy
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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Rotgut ruined many a young man,
this ole town and the hooch.
This 'ere night the rains comin' down,
hey thar, Zach need a smooch?
Refrain
The night's real wet and the bed's warm;
we'll hoochie coochie all night long.
Hang up that hat bring 'ere that gun
ride ole Sal's coochie coo ...
I'll warm ya up though; I ain't cheap,
git your twin spurs right 'ere
'fore we go up and take a poke
why not buy me a beer?
Refrain
The night's real wet and the bed's warm;
we'll hoochie coochie all night long.
Hang up that hat bring 'ere that gun
ride ole Sal's coochie coo ...
Sure the cards call, you've got gold
but why spend it right thare?
There's two ripe peaches over 'ere
and a sweet plum; I swear.
Refrain
The night's real wet and the bed's warm;
we'll hoochie coochie all night long.
Hang up that hat bring 'ere that gun
ride ole Sal's coochie coo ...
Slow he came to his Sally ride
up the saloon's stair case.
Behind closed doors he spent the night
with 'er limbs interlaced.
Refrain
The night's real wet and the bed's warm;
we'll hoochie coochie all night long.
Hang up that hat bring 'ere that gun
ride ole Sal coochie coo ...
* see the picture IN ABOUT THE POEM ;)
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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Bebo was a bird
who could not fly
He kept flapping his wings
'cause he knew he must try
There were two other birds
that were laughing at him
As he was jumping and flapping
up high on a limb
It must be so hard
to be stuck in a tree
Said, those two silly birds
That were laughing at me
I do not like you
get out of my tree
Don't you have somewhere to go?
Don't you have somewhere to be?
Bebo then said
let me get back to my endeavor
Or, I'll be stuck in this tree
forever and ever
He knows he's a bird
he eats worms and sings
He just needs a good breeze
to get under his wings
Bebo worked hard all week
to get into the air
Then he started to cry
Yelling, this isn't fair
With tears down his cheeks
Bebo looked at the sky
He said, I know I'm a bird
so why can't I fly?
The wind then spoke out
and said, It's not how you try
You must climb to the top
You must get really high
Then open your wings
and face into me
I will help you find flight
just get up there, you'll see
Bebo went to the top
of his lonely old tree
He opened his wings
and, waited to see
The wind then picked up
and, carried him high
Bebo was laughing with joy
'cause now he could fly
From that day on
Bebo was happy with flight
He said goodbye to his tree
and, then he flew out of sight
Copyright © Roger Horsch | Year Posted 2013
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Ballad Poem
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PART 1: THE MEETING
Alone one night neath lantern light, I trudged a weary mile.
Forlorn, I went with shoulders bent (the storms around me howled)
until I met a Silhouette behind a sultry smile –
She gazed with eyes that mesmerize (Her body caped and cowled)
and stayed my way with question fey... ‘Why don’t you while awhile?’
The churchyard groaned, an organ moaned, the bells of midnight chimed
as wanton winds awoke and dinned, and mistrals multiplied.
A prostitute – not shrill but mute, with gestures pantomimed –
snuck by in haste, with tracks untraced, beneath the evening tide.
The Persian moon, like arced harpoon, arose and slowly climbed.
The Silhouette (a pale brunette) arched eyebrows meant to please,
and down the lanes, on windowpanes, the shadows danced and sighed.
A meadowlark within the dark, somewhere beyond the breeze,
embellished Her with wisps of myrrh while deigning to confide
to nightingales veiled whispered tales of human vanities.
She doffed her cloak before She spoke with sighs of sorrow sung
(like mandolins, as night begins, when mourning day’s demise)
and spun Her tale of grim travail and tears She'd shed when young.
As jagged volts of thunderbolts lit up the dismal skies,
a velvet fog embraced a bog in coils of curling tongues.
Through summer vales and winter gales Her secret thoughts were voiced.
Midst storms so cruel (neath lightning’s jewel that glistered on the ridge)
She reminisced, She touched... we kissed... Her lips were wet and moist...
A lighthouse dimmed, while moonbeams skimmed across a distant bridge
to avenues where residues of shallow shades rejoiced.
PART 2: HER TRAGIC TALE
“Midst sweet perfume of youthful bloom, the lonely spirit braves
and often cries and sometimes dies in quest of her amour.”
While starry-eyed, a ship I spied, a’ sail upon the waves –
The galleon docked, the seagulls flocked, the Captain swept ashore
where, debonair with gypsy flair, he led his salty knaves.
While passing by, he caught my eye – I tried to hide a blush,
for ambiance of innocence leaves fire’s ice congealed.
His gaze (defined by eyes that shined) beheld my cheek a’ flush.
I bowed my head while caution fled, I felt my fate was sealed
– a bird in spring with fledgling wing – he’d snared a falling thrush.
He said ‘Hello’ – I answered ‘No’ and yet before he’d gone
said I, ‘I’ll wait at Heaven’s Gate not far beyond the Pale’.
At dusk he came neath moon aflame, and left before the dawn
just humming tunes along the dunes that lined the sandy trail
beside a pond where morning yawned, where swam an ebon swan.
We met again, and once again, and once again, again
entangled in a love called sin, in whirls of make-believe.
While in my arms, with voice that charms, said he ‘I must explain –
the tide awaits at morning’s gates and I must take my leave’.
Then tempests formed and vapors swarmed in ardor’s hurricane.
‘Forsake your home and we may roam’ he smiled as if to tease
and still naive, said I ‘I’ll leave, in silver buckled shoes’.
He took the helm in search of realms, before the morning breeze –
with tearful eyes, I bade goodbyes with fare-thee-well adieus
and sailed above a wave of love across the seven seas.
We swept one morn around Cape Horn and sped for Gold Coast Bay.
With naught to reck, I strolled on deck, a baby at my breast,
while zephyrs blew and seagulls flew above the ocean’s spray.
Our ship soon moored, we went ashore and off to Fortune’s Quest –
with gold doubloons which shone like moons, he gambled through the day.
Two deuces wild... he thinly smiled... another card was drawn –
he called and raised with eyes half glazed, was dealt a dismal three.
With betting tight throughout the night, the final ace was gone
and so he lost... at what a cost... alas the prize was me –
with empty bag and pauper’s swag, he left me doomed at dawn.
A buccaneer with ring in ear sneered ‘now, my dear, you’re mine’.
He held my wrists to thwart my fists and then... my honor stained.
In midnight’s swash, the sky awash with tiny tears of brine,
I broke his clutch with nothing much of me that still remained:
a residue when he was through, left clinging to a vine.
In morning dew, the good folks knew, and spurned me in my plight.
The preacher man pronounced a ban and wouldn’t condescend,
ignored my pleas on bended knees, my prayers by candlelight.
While cast aside, my baby died... my world was at an end.
Until this day, I’ve made my way beneath the shades of night.
Continued in Part 3
Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2013
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Ballad Poem
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Bloom not, cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind
The girl was luscious in the wake
Rising at break of dawn
If only she knew I was a mistake
Before we made the bond
I grew fond of her everyday
And night gave me loathe and dread
My heart was weak, I couldn’t send her away
But fed in her desires instead
I kissed her in the forest of green
I had forgotten what I am
I gazed into those eyes, so keen!
A smooth and gentle lamb
One day I stopped to think a bit
My stomach wrenched and twirled
Through love I had lost my sense and wit
To a pitiful village girl!
Avoiding her best I could
I hid from beauty’s caresses
But again she found me in the wood
And so grew the obsession
But so grew the moon
And the waning was abstaining
Good night, wonders of the noon
With memories remaining
Alone I wandered in the cold
Knowing it was coming
The sky grew dark, the sun was sold
Behind the madness blooming
Transforming! Changing!
My mind went all a blur
Rage deforming! Madness deranging!
I couldn’t think of her…
The time was gone!
The night had come!
I thought I was alone
But then I saw her standing there
Pale and stiff as stone
I woke up that dawn sitting there
On the forest floor
And there lay she all bloodied and bare
The lamb that I adore!
The wounds I found were like a gift
I know they were from my girl
I’m glad she fought her will to live
As I blindly devoured her
An honorable lamb with bloodied hooves
She’ll never leave my vision
Sacrificed for ravenous wolves
And no cry for jurisdiction
Bloom not cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind
-an oldie , hehe
For Pd's Contest : )
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011
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Ballad Poem
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Barbie
from Loch
March 5, 1990
I fell in love in a biker bar
with a girl in chocolate hair.
It swept around her like a smoky fire
and woke up the beast in my lair.
Her bright eyes twinkled like brilliant stars
at the end of the moonless road--
they called to me like a siren song
to lay down my heavy load.
Tall she was like a square rigged ship
like a mast shrouded in clouds;
and she could dance like a foamy wave,
making Neptune cry out loud.
But the path of a ship is a bubble
and suddenly she was gone--
her chocolate hair and vanilla neck
are moments in my sad song.
This siren's memory seizes me
like cinnamon schnapps and a grin
which warm the body from the inside out
and settle a smile on your chin.
Her dancing hair drove my clouds away
and opened an azure sky;
and all I asked was a tall, thin ship
and two stars to steer me by.
Among all the women I've danced with
none are remembered so fair
as a girl who walked like a tall ship,
and had waves of chocolate hair.
Copyright © Loch David Crane | Year Posted 2014
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Ballad Poem
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Loss Lost Love
by~ GARY FIELDS
Why my love left?
I soon forget the reason's why
All that I remember
Is that she left such
An empty space
An empty trace
So many memories
Which can not be erased
And I die just a little inside
And time mean's nothing to me'
Fore you mean so much to me
- And -
Then ever so slightly
I wish for quiet subtle change
--------
And I don't know since when
But time just set's end on end
And smoke appears below
Which can choke a friend
A friend in need
Certainly not you love
And once again, ever so slightly
I wish for quiet suttle change
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It has been three weeks (03) now
And things' are all in a clammer'
Thing's just seem to set end on end
And nothing seem's to matter
An I make a vowel for thee
In a time that is lost for- ever
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O'h, how I wish to belong
-------
by~ Poet Destroyer
I can see the pain!
I came to you no longer.
Looking for answers,
I cried till I could no more..
I shared'
I stared'
At the empty space hiding in my heart,
I knew then that day was the end.
Thoughts ran like rivers,
flowing a stream down my face.
You picked the pieces up as I walked away.
With no more to open and say.
~~~~~
When holding wasn't holding to me no more,
You opened up your heart, in hopes I could feel.
We cried into the night,
until the early morn.
We scolded each other's pain,
searching and seeking each others heart.
As time drew, second begun to fade.
I saw our lovers nest fading,
as the night grew thick.
The moment had arrived,
why did we say goodbye?
~~~~~
Now we sit alone,
reminiscing the past that vaporized into thin air.
An empty trace'
An empty space'
~~~~~
Oh! How I wish to belong!
A collaboration with * GARY FIELDS
My collaboration contest
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011
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Ballad Poem
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I'm in me bath here, with a box of red cheer,
yeah a box of red cheer, beer's too bloody dear.
Me mind's wanderin twixt big tits and riches,
bein able to scratch at what itches,
without scratchin the bum out your britches.
If they think you got what,
they'd rather they'd got,
mate, hang onto your hat,
they'll bloody take that.
That girl in black tights, so jam-packed with delights,
nights full of delights in them slow movin tights.
She's not, like Jacko reckons, a whore.
Wouldn't lie on me bare wooden floor.
Christ, I did nothin to get to be poor.
And you can't pay what's due
so your creditors sue?
Funny old world, not half.
But good for a laugh.
I can't help but hear next door's shoutin and tears,
all their shoutin and tears, I can hear em from here,
through the stem of me glass on the wall.
Pray to God he don't hit her at all.
I'm half pissed and spliffed and I never could brawl.
But I stand in the queue,
for a place in the zoo.
Heard you shouldn't have pride.
They wouldn't have lied.
A party's upstairs but I can't breathe their airs.
I won't breathe their airs, them there upstairs.
So I fill the bathroom with me smoke.
All those girls shaggin some other bloke.
I just lie here and soak and suck on me toke.
What's it like not to do
what your needs need you to,
to beg borrow or steal,
to make it come real?
I hear downstairs' soul hit his lavatory bowl.
That porcelain bowl gets the whole of his soul,
as I wring out the bladder of red.
All the sweetest of girls, Jacko said,
have big whites to their eyes that aint never've bled.
There aint nothin so nice
as those whitest of whites
on rich girls
with sweet arses
in slow movin tights.
Copyright © Red OMara | Year Posted 2013
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Ballad Poem
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This one is totally fictional.
Don't cry little guy just 'cause you're moving away
Your daddy's got a brand new job out in Santa Fe
He's trying to make a better life for your mom and you
So, how about holding back those tears
Yes, I'm crying too
So I said goodbye to Bobby like I knew I had to do
But Some things that I told him
Weren't exactly true
I wish I could have told him to stay
If that's where he'd really like to be
I wish I could have told him the truth
About his mom and me
So, I said goodbye
And tried not to cry
And told him to have fun
I wish I could have said to him
Bobby, you're my only son.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2007
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Ballad Poem
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Upon a glorious night
A burning fire lit upon my unrented spine
Deafened by fleeting sight
I flee the home that never was quite mine
Crushed in garish fight
Within the corridor I dare to flee
Blinded by his might
While all the sad spirits return to me
Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted
Upon that vaporous eve
Enclosed in bond beyond mortal grief
Lost to the foggy reef
The fog that so lingers in these glistening eyes
That vapor drew me near
Bedazzling more than the moonlit mirror
To where I see him fly
Twas a heart-reaching place I always fear
Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted
Between the beat of my breast
A heart that beats only for him
He slumbers in the clouds
The clouds that pour my poignant prose
Beyond the darkened seas
The wind does carry the scent of his bequest
Within the folding of the storm I cease to rest
Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted
To him my sorrows lay
And fall into the arms of strangers' trembling spine
As light and pain fall gray
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
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