Best Barring Poems
Who knew a day would dawn
And bring life to a grinding halt!
Busy days are all gone,
Yet we are captive in our vault.
Streets are desolate and dark,
Barring the patrolling police;
Stealthily leaving its mark,
Is a novel viral disease.
As fear of death looms large,
Shut are malls and the rest;
While hospitals, those in-charge
Bravely try their best.
Monday blues are no more,
Work from home is a trend;
A hundred cures, we explore,
Wonder what will put an end!
Few rekindle hobbies lost,
Some are funding a cause;
Cleaner air is here at a cost,
Life is no longer as it was.
Hungry, helpless, the poor weep,
Washing away their smiles;
Peacefully we fall asleep,
While the migrants walk miles!
Set aside religion and race,
Social distancing is the key;
Help curb this menace,
Covidiots let us not be!
Remember this crisis we fought,
In every village, every town;
Cherish the lessons it taught,
For life beyond the lockdown.
A thick quilt of dust
A strong odor of musk
A cracked photograph
Dead sunlight streaming
On the floor
Where I spent my days dreaming
Of where I'd be
A grown man wild and free
Wishing I could break out
But looking back
I have absolutely no doubt
I'd give anything to go back
When the sky wasn't black
And my heart was full of belief
But coming back is a relief
Picking up broken relics of the past
Wondering how it all went by so fast
Looking at the photo of my grandmother
Feeling as if the guilt would smother me
I walk through the living room
Through all the memories and gloom
Seeing old scratches on the walls
Where dogs made their bathroom calls
Through one more door
The hinges broken
Because we were so poor
And there's a pair of flip flops
Sitting in front of a rocking chair
That rocks back and forth
Back and forth
The chill in my blood
My eyes begin to flood
And as I step outside
I'm greeted by a chorus of rain
As if the Heavens shed tears
And I think God knows
I could never let her go
If I could say one last thing
I'd apologize for everything
But barring that I can only look up
Up to the clouds
Hoping I made her proud
Suffocating from their world, breathe dark—
Block in the orbiting around each other’s heart;
Hidden the face, barring like glass,
Rather than pull the reverse of an upturned mask.
Granite waxes high, to fill the rim within,
Mute even as the maddening tears sink in.
Their stares break upon my stony back—
Cannot be met when I face this pass.
But from inside, comes a deep white rose bloom—
Open in my throat, but there to
Cut; share in a writhing thorn—
Where a chunk of the flesh is torn.
I died when you denied our love a chance.
You went on avoiding me, breaking my heart.
Like a pearl locked in an oyster,
You have sealed your heart, barring entry.
What currents flow through your heart?
What eddy churns and gyrates there?
Do the thoughts of our love now linger there?
Does my image, to your mind ever return?
Do you recall how we stood silent beneath the stars?
How we then built an epoch in a glance!
We so blindly loved each other.
Like a phantom I followed you behind.
To you alone my heart as offering I gave.
Never suspected any force would tear us apart.
But how Fate waited swift to smite
And how we had to part in anguish,
Toppling down the sand castles we built,
Leaving a heap of debris behind.
I yearn for what went missing at some point,
Somewhere in the long journey of life.
Now each sunset is a reminder of our touch,
And your laughter rings in my heart as a haunting echo.
I know, there is an ocean between us now.
Yet, desperately I yearn for your embrace.
Do I not deserve a second chance?
I yearn for you, missing so much.
Will you once more open your heart,
That I can enter it and nest within,
To douse all my smouldering pain
Until Death invites us to our grave.
After months, I have gained the courage to ask.
Unless you give a positive response, I am done!
" Life is the story of men who have strived, won or failed and of hearts that keep yearning against all odds" ~ By Poet
Like a pearl locked in an oyster,
You have sealed your heart, barring entry.
What currents flow through your heart?
What eddy churns and gyrates there?
Do the thoughts of our love linger there?
Does my image, to your mind ever return?
Do you recall how we stood silent beneath the stars?
How we then built an epoch in a glance!
We so blindly loved each other.
Like a phantom I followed you behind.
To you alone my heart as offering I gave.
Never suspected any force would tear us apart!
But how Fate waited swift to smite,
And how we had to part in anguish,
Toppling down the sand castles we built,
Leaving a heap of debris behind.
I yearn for what went missing at some point,
Somewhere in the long journey of life.
Now each sunset is a reminder of our touch,
And your laughter rings in my heart as a haunting echo.
I know, there is an ocean between us now
Yet I desperately yearn for your embrace.
Do I not deserve a second chance?
I yearn for you, missing so much.
Will you once more open your heart,
That I can enter it and nest within,
To douse all my smoldering pain
Until Death invites us to our grave
Legends speak of banshees of the blue briny deep, whom cast bewitching
Spells mesmerizing voice and song, beware youthful mariner for charms echoing
Beauty, may cause deceptions fall from grace, nay naivety’s innocence
Attracts creatures of passions folly!
In the Grecian headwaters of historical mystery, these damsels of seduction
Parlous feast on the souls of wayward men, who’s lustful desires are never
Satisfied by honest women of proper barring, or noble birth!
Blue eyed vixens with erotic convictions, are more to the liking of well
Traveled men of ill reputes fashion, yet these lashes lusts are only
After the flesh, bone and tasty marrow of the living, their bonus
Is deserts just reward, thy very soul’s possession!
Oh mother dearest, protect he the lads whom seek fortunes
Favors by sails cast unto destiny’s distant shores, for beyond
Lies the forbidden isles of temptation fiery, and none return
From the aquatic wilderness alive or whole again!
Mer-gypies nomadic beasts of reflected images of beauty,
Clinging unto the rocky craggy shores beguiling the unwary
Sailor, weaving enchantment’s enticing allure with promises
Of pleasures beyond the mortal experience!
Intensity’s emerald spheres pierce through the night, these
Seekers of vulnerability’s sinful, prayer by the light of the full
Moons illumination, that at sunsets rise no man or kindred’s
Son, has gone missing beneath twilights mystical essence,
Thus so be advised he must be lost at sea, is all that is said,
To a broken hearted mother, and a sweet darling left behind!
Cast off the docks of forget-me-knots remembrance, petals
Of sorrows tears, rose colored floating diamonds shed by
Longings embrace never to be fulfilled!
On isolation’s distant beach the jackals gather in a
Heckling breach delighting amongst the spoils of a
Crimson feast, singing the voyagers swan song,
Unto the cast a ways vanquished soul!
Legends speak of banshees of the blue briny deep, whom cast bewitching
Spells mesmerizing voice and song, beware youthful mariner for charms echoing
Beauty, may cause deceptions fall from grace, nay naivety’s innocence
Attracts creatures of passions folly!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Fruits noirs
Sans qu’on y prenne garde,
Le ciel se tisse du grillage
Sombre des branches.
Elles s’étendent chaque année,
Et chaque année,
Grignotent un peu plus d’espace,
Au point de parfaire une voûte
Et d’arriver à se rejoindre,
En confisquant le peu de lumière,
Stagnante, sous les dernières
Feuilles de novembre,
La sève lentement rétractée.
Une pluie insistante, et froide,
Corrode la symphonie des ocres
En une bouillie sombre et gluante…
Les buissons moroses abritent
Aussi des fruits noirs,
A la densité lourde.
Ils pèsent de leur deuil,
Leur poids d’approche hivernale,
Et font oublier les envolées légères,
Des passereaux insouciants,
Qui se poursuivaient
Dans l’azur cristallin.
Ce sont des corbeaux ;
Et leur noir luisant,
Semble une menace anthracite,
Barrant quelque part,
De branche et branche
La lumière et la joie .
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Without being beware,
The sky is woven with wire mesh
Of dark branches.
They extend every year
And every year
Eat away a little more space,
To the point of making a perfect arch
And arriving to join
Confiscating the little light
Stagnant under the last
Leaves of November
Sap slowly retracted.
An insistent rain and cold
Corrodes the symphony of ochres
In a dark and slimy mush ...
The gloomy bushes shelter
Also black fruits,
A with heavy density.
They weigh their mourning
The weight of winter approach
And make you forget the light flights,
Of careless sparrows,
Chasing each other
In the blue skies
They are crows;
And shiny black
Seems a anthracite threat
Barring somewhere
From branch to branch
Light and spirit of joy.
A need for acceptance in each and everyone
To be part of something special in our lives
Feeling a sense of belonging when day is done
Look forward to greeting the world when morning arrives
Affiliation brings self-respect, an inner pride
Sometimes prejudice and bigotry reveal their fangs
There is no peace, no hope when you hurt inside
One more reason why sometimes our kids join gangs
We are one people, one race living on this earth
No one should feel unaccepted anywhere
Each human being should know their worth
Then hatred would no longer be the cross we bear
When we can understand what is right and wrong
When we have complete acceptance barring none
Then we can live the dream we've had for oh so long
Man can lay down his weapons, the battle done.
Keeping Up Appearances takes precedence these days.
It's all about how we look in the various visual ways.
Our clothes must be fashionable, our hair must always shine,
Our body must be perfect, our face look young and fine.
So we work and work for the cost of this charade.
Though we are so stressed, the expense must be paid.
While who we are within, it seems we have forgot,
For how we appear's important, yet within, matters not.
Inside we can be rotten, selfish to the core;
As long as we're looking good, 'cause nothing matters more.
Modesty, former classiness, now has aside been flung
For sexual promiscuity and a wagging, toilet tongue.
Technology is keeping up with appearances' demand
With selfie taking phones attached to every hand.
The competition's fierce on the crowded stage,
Where breeds narcissism, spitefulness, and rage.
Being public is what's in, while privacy is out.
It's tell and show the world all, barring any doubt.
Everyone is public and so is everything,
All except humility as we, to our egos, cling.
All this showing off with our egos on parade,
We're too high on self to see, the outcome of our trade.
As Keeping Up Appearances keeps taking precedence,
Human values keep eroding along with common sense.
If Keeping Up Appearances remains the center of our attention,
Humanity will pay the cost with no values left to mention.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2016-03-26 00:29:00 (EST)
All rights reserved.
We were so pathetic our first year of marriage. They say that being poor builds character, maybe that explains it.
We were married way too young to ever have much money,
The thought of spending for a Christmas tree seemed to be too funny.
We decided that we would do without to save cash on which to live,
Because the cost of even a meager tree was more than we could give.
One night on my way home from work I followed a tree barring truck,
A pothole hit and a tree flew off it seemed I’d had some luck.
I took it home to my new bride and the sight lit up her eyes,
She decided to make decorations for this Christmas tree surprise.
So while I went to find a stand, she started to pop some corn,
She took a needle and threaded them and soon the tree adorned.
She cut out cardboard stars and bells in foil they then got covered,
I set the tree up in its stand and that’s when a problem was discovered.
There was something wrong with the trunk of our little Christmas tree,
It curved so badly that when it stood up it made the letter “C”.
Without some help it couldn’t stand so to the top we tied a rope.
To the closet rod it got fastened to hold it upright was our hope.
When the door to the closet slid shut tight the tree stood proud and tall,
With its aluminum decorations and popcorn strands it really had it all.
When we opened the door to get our coats the rope would always slack,
And the little tree would bow to us and we would bow right back.
Many years have passed since then and now our house is full of trees,
But none of them are as polite as our first that was so eager to please.
A butterfly flitters graciously in the sky,
No barring or fortress claiming its path, forever why.
A butterfly owes nothing of money or fare,
Its light of existence, foregoing superficial care,
The beauty of a butterfly, great meaning here on Earth,
A universal symbol, signifying rebirth.
A butterfly so beautiful, held in the palm of your hand,
Many put together we call a butterfly wonderland.
Do you think the butterfly knows of their magic in our lives,
How special for which they contribute, a midst no compromise.
A world they freely travel, without walls of resistance,
To admire and love, upon centuries relentless.
A butterfly I’ll be, instead of expecting world renown,
For my entrance in your world , surely never to be let down.
Through the louvered window
The moonlight slips in furtively
Barring her flawless suntanned skin
Musky fragrance pervades the air
Stirring the mind with anticipation
Mellow sensual intoxication.
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Contest: Night time Musings
Sponsor: FJ Thomas
At cockcrow, I head down to the river, forsaking my little log cabin situated in the dense forest till dusk, which was strongly built by my endemic hands. I have no compulsion for rods and hooks, no bait. I have my ways. I be sincerely unwanted at the riverside. Others be fearful of my gruff, contemptible guise and demeanour. Fearful that I'd snipe their catch or peck their lunch. Incomprehensible! Hence, I descend the forested hill on which I dwell in the purpose of pilfering the village of food.
I plead the inhabitants for at least a bantam amount of vittles but it is nearabout in vain. All individuals barring an altruistic gardener be scornful towards me. He understands my plight as well as harking what myself alleges. He feeds me his residual edibles. It's his generosity that keeps me alive.
When I be passing the villagers shun me and ensconce me from their young'uns. When I be nigh to them I be able to hear mutterings under breath:
"Undesirable,"
"Accursed tramp,"
and an occasional"Eavesdropper!"
That's what they entitle me but I possess a name. I did not merely crawl up out of the loam and come into existence. I did not start off as an abominable creature spawned on the riverbed (some consider I presently be just that). I be correctly known as Grey, I be named Heron Grey.
By Sean Martin-Byrne
Ruthless orb of light,
Barring darkness from the night.
Baking beaches, roasting roads,
Scorching mountains till they glow.
Frying forests, singeing skies,
Boiling rivers till they rise.
Even time seems to bleed
Like a melting Dali scene,
And the air begins to curl
Along with Escher's tilting world.
Would Van Gogh's flowers wane
Without a single drop of rain?
Would Klimt's fair ladies faint
In a set of dripping paint?
The artist must be cursed
To struggle with this constant thirst
And wander from the sheltered cave
To wrestle with this blinding blaze.
I can’t believe, I am in ICU
Now that I am, Life want to see U
From ICU, THROUGH ICU... ... ...
Retrospecting.... .... ...
Using morality and spirituality as a cornerstone
Devotedly set off to build mansion of success
Laid Foundation solid, walls incomplete for right stones
Fear of losing or sense of deprivation never put me down
FAITH in HIM, not barring belief that I am chosen one
Chose HIS mission to raise the bar in everyone
Now that I am in ICU
Life want to see U, BEYOND ICU... ... ...
Introspecting.... ... ...
Many believe, ICU is a stage between Life and Death
However, Life is stage, ICU the break-in-between
Karma’s audience evaluating life-death cycle umpteen
Worry never resolves, Destiny ever evolves
In HIM Life's solution lies, in death too HIS solution lies
Nobody can create vacuum, NO BODY can fill vacuum
Now that I am in ICU
Life, want to see U, WITHOUT ICU... ... ...