Best Banquet Poems
My eyes were sorely struck when once they perceived
verity in your insightful words. Oh, how they grieved
when you chose to kneel low enough to kiss the ring
of a cunning being, whose unmerited praises you sing
My ignorance would have been a cliched state of bliss
if I'd not stumbled into great depth of a poetic abyss
'Twas with bitter regret that I unveiled your charade
No longer do I doubt the crux of a contrived crusade
With prudence and humble nature, you oft' disclosed
but a false facade was revealed and hubris exposed
As a poet you declared compassion and a meek heart
but sold your feeble soul for the nod of a counterpart
Poet, I hungrily supped at the banquet of your lines
but a person's integrity is one that genuinely defines
human value. From reading you, I refrain and eschew
Aware of your pretexts, I know what motivates you
*You may think I only post something on PS when I have a gripe, and I have when I've felt it was warranted. It's your right to believe what you will. My recent posts prove otherwise, but after very recently reading something that touched my heart in a sadly profound way, I chose to write about it instead of trying to forget that I saw the words. Writing has always been a means of comfort, solace and closure. This write serves as a dissolution for me.
There is a special banquet
that shall be held for a King
Everyone shall receive an invitation
they are sent daily
directly to you
not to look in your mailbox
for He shall invite all
even those without an address
He says come as you are
no need to go and buy outfits
for He shall take notice of the inside
The address will be given
when you receive your invitation
for it shall bring guidance to find His home
no device man has created shall lead you there
no need to worry about transportation
all will be provided
will you come to celebrate with the King
there many shall praise and sing
Once you have opened your invitation
and know this is for you
Then this is how we shall be made acceptable
for we shall not make it on our own
but to become less of what the world teaches
and become more like the King
The King shall be at the door
at this banquet only He shall let you in
he has provided a way for all to have access
but many shall refuse and be left wandering
Will your name be on the reservation list
to attend The Banquet
This is the one invitation not to look past
for those who enter shall be home at last
He gave me only crumbs to feed my soul
A famished heart in need, I asked for more
I could not please him for he was not whole
His heart was hers and he had locked that door
I longed to eat of banquet of his love
The night grew long and in my heart an ache
I hid my face and cried to God above
And prayed that by his grace I would not wake
A little kiss, a quick caress, a sigh
The rest was left for dreams to try to fill
The fervent plea of heart he did deny
My hope of passion’s fullness lingers still
Yet bounty of love’s banquet I must taste
Another one will feed me what I crave
My lavish heart like crumbs I will not waste
For I must feast on love before the grave
Eileen Manassian
August 21, 2014
For Giorgio's Iambic Pentameter Contest
Footnote:
Today I read a poem by Jan Allison entitled, Free Bird, in which she wrote of
being thrown some crumbs. My response to her: “We all need love and
affection. Crumbs must turn to banquet soon.” Thus, this poem was born. ?
Inspiration works in mysterious ways. Thanks Jan for the seed! Give Jan's
poem a read. It is sweet.
a banquet
my date saw me use
the wrong fork
a giant krill ball
attracts whales seals sharks and birds ~
a feeding frenzy
Written 23 May 2019
For writing challenge 3, May 2019, Nature haiku poetry contest.
Sponsored by Dear Heart.
Some years from now
the Devil throws a banquet –
In hell, of course – where he alone
unquestionably rules:
A banquet table plated for
greedy fools: to his right,
Barack seated; with Hilary at
his heated left; Bidden,
unable to tell where he is –
so after a brief, delirious spell,
decides himself quite content
with just the odious, strangely
familiar smell – Hunter doing some
cooking – agents told to shy
from looking – ordered not to
allow lawful booking:
Pelosi and Schumer,
for the first time
realizing themselves entirely
powerless...yet, hopelessly
addicted to procuring votes,
hotly plot how to send
the Squad copious
asbestos notes – His Majesty
offers them, another plate of
hot coals, with a side-dish of
charred souls – some fur lined
totes, to go with stylish
Arctic coats –
When I think of the Lord, I think of you and I
Just as when I look for rain, my eyes look to the sky
There is one thing in this life, that I can clearly see
Just as the Lord made me for you, he made you for me
Today was a real bad day, you know these words are true
Right up till the point and time, I made it home to you
Then just as it always does, your love swept me away
Just one smile from you, brightens up my darkest day
I love the way you stand by me, forever at my side
That’s why as I look at you, my eyes are filled with pride
At times I want to scream and shout, others bounce and run
Just the sound of your voice, makes those feelings come undone
I do not know what I’m trying to say, I just hope my actions show
That you are and will forever be, the most beautiful thing I know
And never will this heart of mine, lose one drop of its romance
For every single time I look at you, sweetheart I want to dance
Toni you are the beauty, and I reckon that makes me the beast
Since our love is life's banquet, know that I am here to feast
Banquet At The Dark Knight's Castle
Your damned lies,
cast for fickle fame
Muffled cries
'tis but a game...
Hold your false crown,
bow at cloven feet
In glee you drown
innocence's defeat...
Your beastly black,
a cloak you wear
Fairness you lack
harm without care...
Pound your sad drums,
dance as dark knight
Eat molded crumbs
expand your blight...
Your damned lies,
cast for fickle fame
Muffled cries
'tis but a game...
Robert J. Lindley, 3-01-2020
Rhyme, ( As The Waning Moon Sheds Its Golden Skin )
Midst a banquet as life defined
Where careless pleasures are consumed
And at the table children dine
Midst a banquet as life defined
Where steps in muted servitude
Rush to aid a mirth refined
A famished cur desires crumbs!
And midst a banquet, as life defined
I grin, complacent, rendered dumb!
An Irish seven course banquet is what I have here:
A baked potato and a six-pack of beer!
The merry men and Robin Hood
Were drinking in the local wood
And roasting harts.*
The meat, they said, was very good;
They even ate, it’s understood,
The private parts.
* deer
For Isaiah’s Robin Hood contest
broad winged soaring
talons open wide, ready
to feast on its prey
8th place
BALD EAGLE CONTEST
Sponsored by: CAROLYN DEVONSHIRE
The Pleasure of your Company
is Requested
at
A Banquet in Celebration
of
The Big Picture of Life
to be Held at
Your Earliest Convenience
before
The Eleventh Hour
Appetizers will Include
a Cocktail of Bitter Tears
Garnished with Fresh Sprigs of Regret
and
a Light Melange of Personal Inflictions
Sauteed in a Rich Resentment Sauce
a Salad of Tossed Emotions
with
Sympathy Dressing
Will follow
a Tureen of Everything Anyone Ever Did to You
will Precede the Entrée
which will consist of a
Thick Fillet of Condemnation
Braised Over an Open Fire of Unforgiveness
Served with a Puree of Wistfulness
and
Garden Grown Indifference
Poached in a Whine Reduction
And Garnished with
Minced Crow
A Dessert of Humble Pie
and
Stifled Screams
Complimented by an Aperitif
of Flaming Foresight
will Conclude the Dinner
Dancing to the
Music of the Spheres
will Commence
in the
Bawl Room
where
Nightcaps of Resolve
will be Served
We are all invited to a banquet,
a celebration unequaled
by the richest imagination
for eternity.
And all that is required of the guest?
a joyful, thankful, faithful price -
the belief and trust
in Jesus Christ.
I didn’t want to let her down. She was a fellow teacher in the language institute and a very dear friend. When my husband went on trips, which was often, she’d look out for me, so when she made the suggestion to go to the student banquet, I didn’t have the heart to say no.
We were the first ones there. We chose seats right next to the big floor to ceiling glass windows. Out below us, the sparkling lights of Beirut mesmerized. A young couple sat on the veranda, outside the glass partitions, enjoying a meal in the cool night air. They were warmed by the love that hung around them in the smoke from their hubbly bubblies (hookas). The whole atmosphere was romantic and beautiful. My heart constricted. Slowly the students started to filter in, and invariably, they would come over to give us kisses and greetings. It was a lovely evening, but my heart was heavy. I looked at the beautiful girls: hair…stylishly coiffed, make-up…flawless, dresses and skirts short…tight…revealing….sexy. I tried not to cry as I flashed them all smiles.
Picture taking time: the girls posing like models, showing off long sleek legs, the young men acting cool…models one and all. I sat at my table, feeling old at 46…Old. One of the students would always come over to me and flirt…such a sweet young man. He made me feel young. As I smiled at one of my pretty students further down, I thought to myself as I looked at her…”That, that was ME.” I remembered what it felt like to be young and beautiful, what it felt like to have young men swarm…what it felt like…
I tried to push away the thoughts. I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I looked up into sky blue eyes peering out at me from a handsome bearded face. There was Ryan, one of the young Americans who had joined our communication staff, camera in hand. He flashed a killer smile as he leaned in and said, above the pounding sound of the live band, “So, when are you going to show us your moves?”
“What?” I looked at him incredulously.
He smiled showing nice even teeth. “The little birdy told me that you are quite the dancer.”
I smiled, feeling like a million dollars. “Maybe not tonight,” was all I could manage.
Eileen M Ghali
TO BE CONTINUED......