Best Battled Poems


Like a Tree In the Desert

Prick me with your vivid green awareness
Let the white pins that needle me
Diminish into their foggy sham

The bridal wreath that scented our commitment
Now doused in unkept hopes and promises
Moss sprouting venom from hurts battled

Like a fish floating in space with no oxygen 
I swam in currents without you 
The tank occupied with endless dark clouds

Fraught with fear and loneliness
Love now submerged deep in the recess of my mind
Unclear what is sacred what is trash

I prayed you would see the light
That my white knight would return
This battle is fierce and yours to fight
© Carol B.  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Gettysburg Hauntings

Gettysburg Hauntings

When General Meade met General Lee
At Gettysburg in 1863

Sons of the South battled Northern brothers
And neither side has ever recovered

Fifty-one thousand lives lost in three days
Of a summertime swelter, July haze

Souls rose not to heaven from bodies piled
On blood-soaked battlefields spanning 40 miles

An on-scene photographer moved fallen men
To snap better images with his lens

Hats off to Alex Gardner if you please
Today picture-takers’ cameras freeze

At a large bouldered site called Devil’s Den
Sharpshooter hid, killed unsuspecting men

Travelers at night on Pennsylvania roads
Claim they see soldiers, hear cannons explode

A century after the Revolution
United our states to wage war as one

Virginians were forced to choose blue or gray
Mason Dixon Line divided that way

If only Tom Jefferson’s wise notion
Had not been struck from the Declaration

Slavery, the impetus for war and hate
Would have been quashed before State versus State

Gettysburg might have been a peaceful farm
Where soldiers had never succumbed to harm

But restless spirits, faces pale and gaunt
Never retreat from their Gettysburg haunt

Our nation’s darkest hour plays out each night
And passersby still marvel at the sight

Where sons of the South battled Northern brothers
For neither side will ever recover

Premium Member Looney Tune

Max is mad at Molly
Samantha’s sore at Seth 
Freida’s freaking out at Frodo
While  Hobbits hold their breath

Jack jokes about poor Jill
She hits him with her pail
Humpty cracks open Dumpty
For drinking all his ale

Mickey Mouse and Minnie
They both make quite a scene
Playful Pluto gave her paw
and stroked her jumping bean

Rub is furious with Dub Dub
She has another man in his tub
His bubble has been bursted
So he scrubs Dub with a club

Cats in cradles cows and moons
Forks running away with spoons
Coyote catches the Road Runner
 In the end we’re all Looney Tunes

Nothing makes us happy
Sticks and stones me oh my
Kryptonic grade destruction 
Broken Superman can’t fly

The Beatles Battled Yoko Ono
Because she broke up the band
They sang ‘Give Peace a Chance”
a dream they didn’t understand

So I walk down to the River
John the Baptist please begin
Separate me from human nature
Cause I’m tired of our sin


First Love

As the monsoon rains fall heavily on the ground,
I sit by the window pane wishing you were around.

The thunder strikes and I run to hide away
In search of your loving arms, where I long to stay.

I go back to that place where we first met,
The quaint chapel by the meadows, our eyes set.
Our tender hearts: innocent, youthful and frail
Together on love’s current we set sail.

Against what they say we took our every chance
But stumbled upon our childish games and youthful arrogance.
Somewhere in the journey we both lost our way
And “I love you” were just meaningless words we say.

There were many beautiful things we learned together
As we basked in sunlight and battled stormy weather.
Now, all that is left to hold on to are memories of you.
The sound of your voice that faintly says your love is true.

The lightning flashes and slowly I open my eyes
It was all but a dream, from my bed I rise.

I sit by the window pane wishing you were around,
As the monsoon rains fall heavily on the ground.

Unsung Hero - the Soldier

Unsung Hero – The Soldier

Warily he stood at the corner,
Wondering which way to turn.
A weary smile on his faded brow,
As he held out an old worn-out hat hoping for handouts,
A few miserly pennies or perhaps, even a piece of bread.

This once proud soldier,
Now reduced to being a petty beggar,
Was a remnant of a cruel war;
Where he once stood side-by-side with his comrades
And helplessly watched them fall one-by-one.

Cruel memories haunted his saddened heart,
As he each day he desperately tried to survive, 
Wondering if it would have been better
If he too on the bloody battlefield had died - 
But there was no real answer.

Maybe it was good that he had done his duty
Fighting for those who couldn’t. 
But now he was forgotten and forlorn, 
With no honor, no glory,
He was just a nobody.

With warm tears streaming down his cold cheeks,
Even now he thought of his fallen comrades, 
Questioning if they were really in a better place -
What if?
Why?

His thoughts about his tortured past
Continued to cling to him, 
Like the tattered coat 
He wore during the day,
And used for a pillow at night.

In his mind, he was still on the battlefield, 
Only this time he battled invisible foes -
A mind growing feeble, homelessness,
Hunger, loneliness, and most of all – 
Not having anyone to love him. 




9-16-2014
© Kika Ayala  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Home Maker

She wore a gingham apron,
battled dirt on hands and knees
while garments washed swayed brightly
on a clothesline in the breeze.

She sewed and worked a garden,
did the dishes all by hand;
her wiggling giggling kids
would straighten up at her command.

Her leftovers were loved as much
as was the ginger cake
she drizzled with that special sauce
she always used to make.

Today they’d call her backwards,
for no feminist was she!
But all she’d ever daydreamed of
was what she came to be.


(For Mac's "Anything Goes Again" contest)


Premium Member You'Re My Inspiration - Dedicated To My Amazing Mum

How do I begin to describe you
Such an incredible person 
Yet even now you doubt your abilities
You lost your own mum when you were eight  - you never ever got over it
You worked all your life, started off by working in a bank for almost 20 years
Then when you had children you ran a village shop from home
But also helped run the smallholding where we lived
You even had an evening job to bring in extra income
Then you began working in a care home and that had a big impact on you
At 50 you changed direction in life and studied and trained to be a nurse
No mean fete with two children to bring up
When you retired you continued to work in a care home
Then you undertook charity work every week still continuing well into your eighties
In fact you were on your way to work at the charity shop when you fell
You were found lying in the street …
Two bleeds on your brain and over three months in hospital
How you pulled through I will never know
Yet you battled on and are still with us still
Now you have short-term memory issues and are going blind
Fate struck a cruel blow when dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer
He passed away in February
Your lifelong partner for nearly sixty years
Your world turned upside down and now you live in a care home
We are selling the family home -  gosh I find it tough emotionally
I know we have lost dad but I feel like I am losing you too
You are helping me clear out things from the house 
Items you have known and loved for many years
Sadly we can’t keep everything
It must be so so difficult for you, yet you never complain
I just want you to know how much I love you
How much you inspire me
We only have one mum and I am so lucky I have you still

Written for a previous contest but too late to be submitted
Placed in Judy Konos' Contest - tell us about your mom
18th September 2015

Premium Member Yasabel

Yasabel

By the waves and salty sea
That falls on shores so close to me

By the battles
Thus fallen comrades go

By the hills and by the lowlands
I wander looking for bluebells and heather hearts

By the way of sea or by way of land
Tiss the bagpipes that make me stand

Be they Gods of Christ or Celtic times
I pray me soul find peace in boggs remote with wine

Yasabel her breast held me close long ago
Her heart was the only I ever did know

Too and fro like the waves and the wind
By and by, time erodes the youth once then

Now, alone, if only love and the orange of me life
She swept me deep, while I battled long

In the highlands now I roam
Ashamed that I roam here all alone

When the heather bloomed
And the bluebells sang

I was away in foreign sands
If only, if only I had held your hand

Yasabel of another time
You are the one that was always and forever

Always on my mind

Premium Member My Horse Black Star

  
I have had many joyful dreams in my childhood,
but I recall some very emotional too;
and I would tell them all out loud in make-believe,
playing make-believe was something I loved to do.

I rambled on for hours and hours, hours,
and a writer was blooming in my re-telling;
but one dream I kept secret and close to my heart,
in the dream I heard drums beating and a black horse.

In this dream Black Star was my war horse majestic,
and I-  an Indian princess and warrior;
I fought for the rights of my people the Ojibwe,
I battled to keep our lands and our waters safe.

But, it was only the dream of an Ojibwe child;
now truth is-   that Canada is disappearing.

_____________________________
April 17, 2019


Poetry/Verse/My Horse Black Star
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1135-392-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Poem of the Day - April 19, 2019

Premium Member Light

Light 1-29-24  Syllables checked with www.howmanysyllables
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Light

Nightfall’s hand laid heavy on fleeing twilight
While the darkness, born early, swallowed the light.

Driving rain clouded the eyes of pale daylight,
Sheer curtains of rain blurred tears in the lamplight.

A world set spinning on bleak winter’s wrathful wings,
A battlefield of ruined souls shunned the light.

Howling waves, without sweet dawn’s consolation,
Drove raving storm surges, diluting the light.

Tangles of downpours assaulted waning day,
Jagged dirges shred blinded lyrics of light.

Torrent’s heavy footsteps drenched the dying dusk
When cracks appeared in sealed shelters, leaking light.

Atmospheric flotsam clogged free flowing dawn,
Driving dams of old debris to block new light.

In this rain painting, where darkness battled bliss,
There stepped a warrior, rain angel of light.

The storm wrath silenced. Darkness shamed.  Light in whorls
Opened wide a redeemed chrysalis of light.

Premium Member Ceaseless Constellation

sometimes I sing 
antique anthems,
of the nights 
I was confined 
  within a bottle
of diamond tears,  
wept woefully
   from the widest sky
that held kaleidoscopic stars~
amidst festooned fields of 
pixie-dust flowers,
hanging like 
  starburst chandeliers, 
when t i m e was never in favor
of designing a
  heart-shaped galaxy 
to ease the 
  troubled torrents….
as languid linings
cast by the 
  sombre umbra
soaked me
  in melancholic sprinkles,
of what was left in my strength;
for I knew nothing
  beyond the evening clouds
that mirror 
    marshmallow musings, 
stained with 
    tuscan tones. ..

yet, I remember
    seeing your sunflower smile,
as I dreamt of 
    your mystical melodies,
spoken poetically,
   way before I knew you
   would become my reality,
though the homely hideaway
to my hopes 
   now fester amongst
corners of your 
     dusky eye lashes…
I’ve battled with nothing
   but obsidian obstacles
  that laid
in the 
    tiny tunnels
of my 
    crippled consciousness.

now our souls 
   seem chained in pearls
       and coiled in amethyst anklets 
as one, in stellar waves 
 through a 
   ceaseless constellation; 
 cosmic connection
endorsing these fingers
with your 
    poignant pantoums, 
aligning my heart to lay
within your
  evergreen embrace,
limited by 
  the lyrical land
you’ve lavished
my 
  longing lagoons into. 

so here I am, scribbling stories
    of our zealous zenith 
within your platinum presence~
as confessions disguised
    within tangerine tercets 
  of vanilla villanelles 
have now come alive,
amidst a rebirth 
   of a warrior meant
to b l e e d
vivid verses 
  eviscerating
   nacreous nebulas
into blissful b l u e brines,
that shall stream
through 
    unfamiliar  rivers of dragon roses 
     till every electrifying element
                       rests in  aesthetic harmony.

The Final Journey

I know I’ve made a thousand journeys,
withstood the tests of time and foe
shed the dust and shouldered worries
struggled onward against the flow.

Unconforming, seldom bending
straight the path I ever took.
Challenge was my unending passion
contradiction I forsook.

I’ve battled tempests ‘fore and ‘hind me,
I’ve seen the devil at my heels.
Seldom knowing what lay before me
never knowing how respite feels.

I’ve seen the Valkyries and Forty Furies
their mazy circles in the sky,
taunting, haunting, ever daunting
beckoning from their aeries high.

I’ve crossed the searing sands of Gobi
and scaled Himalaya’s rocky tors,
badlands, wastelands all behind me,
walked upon the Seven shores.

I’ve gazed upon the Northern Lights
and seen the Southern Cross at sea.
I’ve traveled east and journeyed west,
no home or kindred claiming me.

No ebb of tide did succor bring me,
no place of solace ever found
but grappled fiercely all that challenged,
gaining purchase on the ground.

I rose against what life beset me
with courage the gruel for my soul,
hampered, harassed, never emptied,
firm and resolute toward my goal.

But it’s finished now, I’ve done my part
and I’ve left nothing uncompleted.
No looking back, no ruing thoughts
all my convictions undefeated. 

And now I’m on that final journey
through all meridians of time and space,
with hope to meet the God that gave me
aeonian fortitude to run the race.

© August, 2015

Premium Member A Fish Named Ben

There once swam a catfish named Ben
     hadn't eaten since who knows when
     my worm looked just right,
     Ben took a big bite.
     No one's seen Ben swim'n since then.

     Ben put up a heck of a fight
     was thrashing with all of his might
     when reeling him in,
     that fish seemed to grin,
     and spit out my worm just for spite.

     Old Ben made one heck of a meal
     couldn't help but think how he'd feel
     if he'd been the one,
     who had battled and won,
     from the opposite side of the reel.

Premium Member The Battle of the Shearing Shed

Ronald was a tough old ram, the biggest of his breed
Daniel was a clipperman, renowned of shearing deed
Many sheep were sheared that day and woolless they had fled
Before those two met in affray and battled in the shed!

Ronald, he had seen old Wallace wrestled to the floor,
Mugged of his dignity and fleece, and knew that it was war
And seeing that his turn was nigh, his hooves he dug in deep
He'd fight and though perhaps he'd die, at least he'd die a sheep.

Daniel had no time to waste, he'd quotas set to keep
And unprepared, he reached in haste to take the waiting sheep
But Ronald steeled himself as Daniel took him by the horn
And, rearing, pulled himself away before he could be shorn.

Off-balance, Daniel stumbled, to Ronald's great delight
Onto his knees he tumbled as the shears flew out of sight
And Ronald now unhanded felt his victory increase
Protecting his sheep dignity and, likewise, his sheep fleece.

But Daniel was not beaten yet, he knew that he'd faced worse 
His mind was still determined set, he rose up with a curse
But still he was unsteady and Ronald was a ram
His head was lowered ready and he charged the clipperman

Ronald's head met Daniel's side and toppled him again
This time headfirst and to collide his head against the grain.
Leaving, stunned, the clipperman upon the wooden floor
In final victory, the ram strolled out the open door.

But, alas, 'tis not the way that sheep triumph at last
And Daniel would not see the day that any sheep got past
Despite Ram Ronald's victor's pride, the shearer would not yield
So followed a less dignified pursuit around the field.

Ronald, he was fast and he had four legs matched to two
So Daniel was outclassed, if that was all that he could do,
But he also had a sheepdog and so Ronald was defeated
He would have had the victory, if Daniel hadn't cheated.
© Lee Leon  Create an image from this poem.

The Spirit of Humanity

Lift me up
As I rise on shaky knees

Give me strength
To rise from this bottom of rocks
Willed in my determination
To climb back to this mountain top

Call me a Climber, ambitious
An Expeditionist

A Pilgrim on uncharted land
A Soldier on these battled bends
An Activist when I take a stand
Peaceful, but with determination

A Bird, I’ll go out on a limb
Holding tight against the wind
A Leader, I won’t hop the wagon with the crowd
Not back then, and still not now

A Dream of many faces, of many phases
Something courageous
Even in valleys we rise like nothing can break us
Even through opposition we rise together in greatness

Even when we stumble in our focused cause
We still hurdle boundaries and break down walls
In millions, we still pause
When a handful die by some madman's cause

There’s still something decent within us all

When we answer the cry of our fallen brother
Rebuild, pray, and aid in their recover
Because we are not one without the other

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