Best Bartered Poems
Lekker read...
"Bartered Wives"...
Still happens...
Written February 17, 2013
Sponsor: Suzette Crous
Contest: Lekker!-A New Contest
"Bartered Brides" title of a book I am reading..
Form: Ellip
bouquet of roses
a quaint box of chocolates
gratuitous love
One dozen dead roses
A pocket full of red disposes
Fidelity, fealty their temporal wrapper encloses
Organic ode that nature's bipolar rhythm transposes
Trite requiem to all the brownnoses
A token gift that penurious love exposes
Gone are the scintillating wax poses
The mirth, pageantry time hoses
Buried in the cemetary with Grandma Moses
Bring back the artificial supposes
To satiate all of the charming virtuosas
Considering me a talented, aspiring shill
My muse loaned me a feathery quill
Brokering her wisdom, leasing her skill
With embroidered frills each barb with beauty did distill
Lithographer's vision, a graceful dividend to reveal
Depreciating vane my artistic license to bill
Hollow shaft gilded so her availing light can the vacuum fill
Inky reservoir with inspiration did instill
A deep well with literary devices did rill
Ideas streaming from strained cavity to the mind's tip with zeal
Burnished hues, sharp tones aesthetic notions to congeal
A precision valve appended vagaries to swill
An automated inkblot defibrillating patterns to spill
Cherished stime
Moment sublime
Concordant chime
Regaling rhyme
Bottled time
BARTERED
By:Clement A. Chipande
I knew I was surrounded by inhumane perverts
I guarded my innocence with my entire sincere heart
I rebuffed snitchy men for fear it might get hurt
I sniffed every compliment for a stench of flirt
I did this for the dignity of what lied under my skirt
I focused on my daring dream to become a law expert
I knew it in my bones that I did my needful part
I was introduced by my father to a man
I was too young to grasp what he had done
I was forced to leave my parents' house
I was bartered away for two cows
I was bewildered by two 'Hows'
How could my own father have my bright future slain?
How could two cows outvalue a mother's nine months of pain?
I became pregnant before I even saw my first moon
I became a mother before I giggled like a grown girl
I bore a baby girl before I even got rid of my juvenile dolls
After expriencing the near-death agony of giving birth
I doubted if it was Mum who introduced me to Earth
I swore to always fight for my daughter till death
I waited for darkness to shower
I wrapped my baby in a shawl
I escaped cautiously to the shore
I prayed hard for Moses's miracle to manifest
Instead, I was grabbed by gangs in a rape contest
I knew, to most of them, I was the first
I was tortured
I was injured
I was bullied
I was humiliated
Hadn't they covered up my mouth,
Hadn't I been too busy with the terror in my baby's eyes,
I would have told them that
The monster I was first introduced to by my father
Hadn't only turned me into a premature mother
He had also made me embark on life extenders
Alas! Dear fate,
Had you only glanced at me with your right eye,
I wouldn't have been BARTERED off!
Facebook@Clempoetry
YouTube@Clempoetry
Hosting my own cocktail party,
I feel as when a child
Looking up, again I’m lost,
among adults wearing smiles
I pour the drinks and carry trays,
and laugh at the right times
But still feel small and unattached
—my bartered youth in mime
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
Bartered rose with ruddy hue
Blossoming bosom your beckoning cue
Carefully, preened buds fawning suitors with thirst doth imbue
With wavy petals you swagger and stew
Your well-worn stem with waxy scents spew
Blanched branches cloaked with frothy dew
Stalk bleached by caressing winds that blight through and through
Constant heat causes your languid leaves for moisture to sue
Every, fragrant secretion sings at each rapturous chorus anew
Over time from your ravished garlands succor withdrew
Baren rose fertile swells no longer in your sterile funnels brew
Bartered ?
Written: by Tom Wright
12/00
Redemption of man,
was bartered;
Our Heavenly Father,
bore great loss;
Sin's necessary price,
was Jesus;
Location of payment,
the cross.
Twas not three spikes,
but love,
was He atree secured;
Oh, what cost.
Without the bartering of
precious blood.
Sin has no covering, and man
hopelessly lost.