Best Battering Poems
Unexpectedly the timid sun made an appearance,
an orb of flames, silent amidst the peaceful horizon.
Wistfully, the harmony was short lived.
Ferocious winds blew with merciless tones.
Melancholic rain returning with little remorse.
Inclement storms battering emotions,
brutally defeating them into oblivion.
Raindrops soaked like predatory demons,
in conjunction with bloodthirsty winds,
lost within the abyss of anguish and pain,
seeking shelter from vicious venomous daggers.
I stumbled upon the marketplace of sorrow,
surrounded by souls lost to a religion of perturbation.
Ambushed I remained, impatiently in this downpour degradation,
counting down the days of disturbing December deterioration.
Silent One
Originally written in 6 December 2015
Repost: 7 December 2017
.
Racing towards a distant horizon
I watch as hope fades within the desolate
shadows of my bleak surroundings
Damp air wafts heavily, silently...
its aroma kindling thoughts of shared
rainy Sundays and wet kisses in the park
When once more thunderstorms converge
as dark clouds drape ominous vistas
in shades of midday despair
Saturated angry heavens unleash
drowning sorrow midst the endless
deluge now battering this place
Tear splashed puddles again overflow,
reflecting the loneliness felt
as chilled droplets drench me
Yet still I run, hopelessly seeking those
sunny days and blue skies I knew
damn well would be gone...
once she was
It’s odd how we all have a persona,
An image we’d like others to see.
My emotional clothing, my charm and charisma,
It’s nice but it’s not really me.
The real me, my hinterland, the me of me, the “who” that I am,
Isn’t defined by any professions.
I’m not defined by my job, nor my house, nor my clothes.
I’m not defined by any possessions.
Possessions show that I’m cool, calm, I’m collected.
Always seeking a classy sort of style,
But on the inside the thoughts in my head go crazy,
Like an untamed deranged juvenile.
Always overthinking random stuff of conversations I’ve had.
Had years ago with my peers.
Thinking the best, then contemplating the worst,
Battering myself with debilitating fears.
I hide these fears behind fake actions, fake clothes,
Fake talk and a fake phrase.
Convinced that a fake me is better than me,
For now and the rest of always.
Entered into "Who ARE you?" contest by Catie Lindsey 4/30/2016 , ranked First place
It won’t stop raining
dismal, forlorn murky skies above
similar to a depressed painter’s palette
bring torrent outbursts
becoming heavier and heavier
descending louder and louder
drowning me in a deluge of emotions
soaking the sanity from my drenched soul
Sombre November rain is always different
colder and sinister like a virus rapidly spreading
poisoning my body with intense anxiety
battering me like a hail of bullets in the line of fire
Twilight is swallowed by blackness briskly
stars illuminate, as the moon glows
but nature continues to immerse me
bathing like a forced baptism
How I long for a glimpse of the sun to shelter
but there is no sign of a rainbow any time soon
The Silent One
Originally written 17 November 2015
I’m sick of hearing from old Bill that I’m a whimpish sort of bloke,
Because I don’t care for rodeo’s and can’t relate to outback folk,
That I prefer to travel in a car, when I go from A to B,
When I should be riding horses like Billy does you see.
I’ve never been upon a horse; in fact I’ve never patted one,
But at times I’ve been a victim from the damage that they’ve done,
When they’ve thundered down a racetrack with double-digit odds,
To leave my pockets empty and the good luck with the Gods.
So it was just a whim and foolishness that struck me at a guess,
That could have left me comatosed and in an awful mess,
When in a flush of inspiration of adrenaline attack,
Without a lesson or experience, I climbed upon a horse’s back.
I threw one foot in the stirrup and threw the other one to straddle
The horse’s back now that I’m on, while sitting in the saddle,
But with the motion of a gallop at a steady rhythmic pace,
I started slipping from the saddle and I quickly lost me place.
In fear I’m grabbing for the mane, but I couldn’t get a grip,
So I threw me hands around its neck, but then began to slip,
And I could see the ground below me was aiming at me head,
So I grabbed its nose to stop it, but it bucked on me instead.
It was futile hanging on now so I made a desperate move to jump,
But instead of reaching safety, me body lurched and I went thump,
For me foot’s caught in the stirrup so I’m bouncing in the fray,
With the horses pounding hooves close to just a foot away.
Now limply hanging upside down from the battering I took,
In me haze of consciousness I saw a crowd had formed to look,
Then me missus ran to save me when she took off like a rocket,
Over there at K-mart where, she ripped the plug out of the socket.
Any kind of love worth having,
Understands that disagreements happen,
And does not diminish when the first disagreement surfaces,
No, it will stay around and show its true value,
Not pack a sad and leave the field open to hate and prejudice,
This love that will stand the test of time,
Hold true even in the face of war, or famine,
And will retain its shape, no matter how hard the battering.
Be it for a friend a lover, or a family member, or even a stranger,
Who is in need of this love.
To agree to disagree,
To see both sides of the coin,
And give them equal value,
To recognise that opinions are not good or bad but different,
And not an indication of a wish to do harm,
To understand that thoughts and words and deeds,
All travel at different speeds.
Agreeing to disagree gives us an extra layer of comfort,
That a lesser kind of love will not,
As our thoughts and words can be a close match,
And only our deeds will need to be sometimes kept in check.
All too often do we fail to see,
That this kind of Love does not take kindly to us setting agendas,
Making unreasonable demands,
Or withholding favors,
To get agreements that will always be broken.
This kind of love,
Brings me so much hope,
I am glad I recognized it before it was too late,
So bitterness will not dog my twilight years
As I find plenty to talk about,
With those who have chosen to agree to disagree with me.
Drizzling, dazzling
splinters of diamond
Shards of crystal
or liquidized glass!
Transparent drops
from a translucent sky.
Ooh, that lucid lustre:
No wonder they say,
there's something sexy about the rain
Atleast it does seem to drive
dripping lovers insane.
And then as if frenzied, suddenly excited
the drizzle converts into a heavy downpour
as thunders bellow and thunders roar
as rivers swell and rivers soar.
Rain battering our rooftop
like needless war drums
or heedless bass drums
The heavens having opened
to announce a cloud burst
Till it's said to be raining cats and dogs
or more realistically, fishes and frogs!
O' God bless the nimbus
Those soaking cotton wool puffs in the sky
Those candy floss rainclouds sailing by.
Resounding echoes awaken the child
demons in the attic beckon unto him
stark fear grips his Vick's laden chest
shivers vibrate rusty springs of down
footsteps creak closer upon loose floorboards
while steamed filled pipes play taps
a somber teddybear snarls
causing the world to be still
foolish nuns, God doesn't want to "get me"
the sting of a ruler splinters a left hand
blood spurts upon faces of laughter
evil little boy too wicked for a mother
affliction runs in the family
Florence became flop because she always fell
polio never whipped her ass
just abused her now and then
she healed with a smile
Even humility has its price
Jimmy Dean wore sunglasses
maybe his eyes were bloodshot
or maybe he was a child of an alcoholic
and they became part of his attire
degenerate eye disease, masturbation
spattering or battering
does it really matter when you can't see
or understand the difference between ADD and ADHD
Psych 101: Crack can be Prozac
Iron gates surround a new residence
protecting the innocent who peer from outside
rehabilitation means refining bad habits
like those on the outside who have mastered them
twelve years of bars and games people play
provide an education unto itself
seclusion can be the deciding factor
between murder or suicide
self righteous judges choose life
recidivism is a revolving door
of vicious cycles with no engines
only propellers called co-dependants
or co-defendants, take your pick
life repeats itself over and over
only the circumstances change
yet the merry-go-round stops
when the flowers are arranged
Why are most tombstones gray
scared, afraid to die
are you saved?
from what, ourselves
you can't hurt me
Bob Shank-Nov. 30th, 2006
The Punching Bag - Through the Eyes of a Child
Each day the pattern was the same,
for all Dad’s shortcomings, my Mom got the blame.
WHACK! He cursed her for all his lost dreams…
WHACK! For missed opportunities, and failed schemes.
WHACK! Dad would hit his punching bag again,
to release all his pent-up frustration and pain.
When he felt inadequate and couldn’t cope with life,
he resorted to battering Mom, his “beloved” wife.
Of course, it was always her fault that things were bad;
so he made her suffer for all the troubles he had.
Inflicting her with insults, black-eyes, concussions, and cuts,
he claimed that she deserved them because she was like all sluts.
Craftily he played on her bully-enforced meekness,
getting down on his knees to beg for her forgiveness.
Moods swinging like a pendulum from night to day,
his promises were empty - he would never change his vile ways.
Predictably, he continued to torment her as he pleased,
degrading and abusing her…he never ceased.
He figured low self-esteem would prevent Mom from leaving;
and that she was a nobody, he really had her believing.
He was oh so convinced that needed audacity she lacked,
to ever think of opposing him, or of fighting him back.
Besides, with no family around, no job, and no dough,
he smugly concluded that she had no place else to go.
God knows she was weary of existing in this hell on earth;
and I was tired of seeing her endure all that unbearable hurt.
I had had enough of being terrified by that despicable monster,
who had ruined her and made our lives an utter disaster.
After convincing Mom that inevitably I’d suffer the same fate,
one night, we finally escaped to a shelter before it was too late.
*** Note: Thank God, nothing like this ever happened to me. But this piece is dedicated to those many women and their children who are victims of domestic violence.
08-31-2015
Contest: Through the Eyes of a Child
Sponsor:
Placement: 2nd
Noah heard the forecast and realised he must build an ark
It had to be impermeable for when they finally disembark.
They faced forty days and forty nights of torrential precipitation
Thank goodness Noah was constructing the ark for this situation
To invigorate Noah he could see the storm clouds were gathering
He knew that they must work quickly or they would get a battering
The requisite was it must be huge to hold animals and his family
When animals boarded two by two, it was a spectacular sight to see
When they reached dry land they were met with falling snow
Snow is formed by crystallization in case you didn’t know!
Water is essential to our daily life, we need it for our hydration
It is sent to us from heaven above – thank God for precipitation!
04~04~16
N/A in original contest - submitted to Screwed XIII sponsored by Rob Carmack
1 original, poem on the theme of THE ELEMENT OF WATER! The only limitations for this contest is that you must include these 6 words in your poem: 1) HYDRATION (2) REQUISITE (3) PRECIPITATION (4) IMPERMEABLE (5) INVIGORATE (6) CRYSTALLIZATION.
So here’s the deal:
I’m completely pissed off, but not really-
Really I’m heartbroken and just trying to breathe through the ache in my chest,
But that really has nothing to do with what’s going on does it.
This is ridiculous. I hate it. It’s not something I can just fix.
If I could make him forget just by kissing him stupid I would.
However, this is a bit too raw for that.
It’s like when your fave song comes on and you’re voice begins to break near the end
because you’re holding back tears.
Nothing really detracts from that feeling of complete abandon. That’s true for love on both
ends.
Passion when you’re together, battering desperate aching when you’re not.
Now, I enjoy pain. I enjoy the sharp, sweet edge.
I don’t enjoy this mind numbing pounding. Like my body is being pulled inside out.
There is no tearing, no ripping, no cutting, no sharp. Just dull, stretching emptiness.
There is no joy in that.
Only the true masochist in me finds something in this.
I don’t like dwelling on that part of me.
I’d rather be sharp. Like when you’re cut by a knife so sharp that it takes a minute for your
body to register it as pain.
Sharp. Sweet. Sinfully simple.
Love.
This isn’t what I signed up for. But then, what is?
I love you.
That doesn’t really matter.
Does it.
In times of retrospection we discover
The miles our vagrant compass trekked
Silent horrors from which we recovered
What be righteous or unworthy we assess
For to all children life is not toys and hugs
Or enchanting dances on daddies feet
But bitter realities of drunks and thugs
Eggshell walks and battering clubs
Bewildering the difference the years can make
And the choosing to which one is inclined
To follow the path with which they were faced
Or to carve a new path by need redesigned
They say that Rome was not built in a day
Stone upon stone is a sound foundation laid
Tethering twine pulling massive loads up high
Burying tears in abysses carving smiles from cries
Oh no, I'm fine. Concern yourself not with me
For I am the architect of my own design
Someday a pillar in the Temple I will be
My fortress not breeched nor climbed
My world hastens wisdoms patience
Compassion and mercy will abound
Fragrant love skilled willing agents
Through tenderness barbarians turn clown
Recreating the days of innocence
Forgiving those too weak to see
That some with all their pitiful ignorance
Have not the power to strip you of your dreams
There's a power of soul endowed to man
To walk by authenticity
Pities frown subsides as does vengeance
When taken hold of true humility
No promise of ease nor heart unbroken
To even one was this promise solemnly given
Though pain so deep to bleed is relief
It is friction that compels the driven
Though shadows past haunts you to fright
There is light to be found in its darkness
For shadows be slight illumination of light
The evidence of all you've accomplished
How far I've traveled from condemnation
My compass directs true north
On days my history taunts my persuasion
It's for loves sake I've stayed my course
I
Anchored on a sun filtered shore
Upon rocks which lay the days of yore
In swirling pristine aquas of alluring calm
Let it serenade heal my bruised palm
To chronicle tales of my hearts longings
And memoirs of my gradual bondings
To enthral my thoughts in the expanse of time
Parading on the lowly impasse of my prime
To write poetry ,prose or mystery fiction
Titled love on a mission to submission
For winds of change will unravel the future
And the dust of defeat will cover the past
II
Invulnerable In dens of sublime realms
where embers of hope forever gleams
Sparked moments that never fade nor flicker
Down the coconut groves lining the ocean Vast
Departing the depths of calamity chosen
To savour the dews of my late night hours
And devour not the memorable endeavours
For beauty was with me in those moments
One Inevitably engulfed in avid desires
An adherent of the much awaited messiah
With amalgam of glee and humility
And simple life of truth and sincerity
III
Traversing the blissful cavalcade holds
I contemplate in dissonant folds
Harrowing scenes from the sunset vives
I linger in my skimming crimson skies
Seemingly, my life plied on out worn roads
Embalmed by these hands in worded codes
In tongues of my fore fathers decent
I will lounge in their culture with no lament
Like those who came before me
Who fought oppressors from over the sea
and their legends enshrined in echoing songs
Of "murmurs of pleasures, pains, and wrongs"
IV
Whereon mindful of the lot i ought to do
Arrayed within scenes from over the hue
Gradually with hasty steps into depths unexplored
And withdraws, into chambers of happiness and scenes adored
To let the crest of my turning tossing mind detach from fearful odds
And my blessed struggling kind flee from the twilight of the earthly gods
So my heart and soul finally infuse with the fluidity of my course
Down the avenues of my maturity
Down the patterns of my progress
Down the depths of my humility
Down the tangled maze of my life I confess...
..In swirling moon beams of alluring calm
A faith in doubt amid a battering qualm
Under clouds which housed the days of yore
On this shell and plastic littered shore.
A ferocious storm battering outside
heavy winds howling a wolf
angry breaths pelting rain bullets hurl
whistling apple of these eyes
dreaming inside the howling moans
feeling your caress deeply touching
away our souls in another world kissing
mist falling down weeping inside
dreaming always with you by my side
A deep sigh of pain yearning loves voice
distant tears weeping from the heart and soul
floating with light into another world
blinded by everything one sees
queen off the rainbows mist
through lashes bouquet colors
sensing many emotions deeply felt
crying happy crying sad crying glad
dreaming always with you by my side
Liam McDaid and Gary Bateman Collaborative Poem, Free Verse, October 12, 2014
O' the case of Dorian
progressing through the sea,
battering the Bahamas
then shifting to a "three",
Have you seen the damage caused,
how islands lie in rubble?
Property and lives were lost
resulting from your trouble!
Now we wait so anxiously
to know the fullest measure
of this great calamity
ending in displeasure.
Soon will come the future day
when hurricanes desist.
Dorian, I'm pleased to say,
you will not be missed.