Best Bavarian Poems
My heart shrivels dry, blackened rose in bitter anguish, ...
Do you feel my pain?
Why must the flame of day dwindle dim?
O' fortune, like the moon, changeable, waxing and waning
Oppressing me, first with power's soothing stroke
To take it all away!
Poverty of my spirit lies in love's immortal wake
Why fate of fortune, cruel regard, forsaken me?
Vain, and shadowed, I waver between the balance
Such agony is mine!
Day and night, everything defies me?
Great is my grief!
One cure, escape me from the throes of my misery !!
I beg, the Gods... hear my wail, hear my plea
Would fate be cured by kiss, one look, one sign, devotion? !
This wretchedness is black, I taste bitter ash!
Keep dark night hidden in the depth of your heart, o' moon !!
I am like a leaf, played with by the wind
I am like a light hovering bird, chains cannot bind me !!
Salvation comes with desire, one touch
Do not turn the eyes away...!
I cannot be shamed!
Torment me not, o' heartless moon!!
Wheel of fortune spins my heart...I beg to win love's prize !!
Without it, I will bemoan the wounds of fortune with weeping eyes
.... and I am cursed as I fall from the peak of glory....
into the depths of the valley of despair !!
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protogothic entry: for Amy's Contest:
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Inspired by the classical music, "Carmina Burana"
A cantata, written between l935-36 by German composer Carl Orff.
This passionate work was based on ancient poems hand-scribed in Latin...these parchment
manuscripts discovered in a Bavarian monastery in l803. They were believed to have been
written by students of the clergy (monks) sometime during the 11-13th century.
This familiar music has been used in numerous film scores..quite dramatic and powerful
I saw magical faeries.
Tripping in and around
Sparkling wings shining
In the dazzling sunbeams
That transversally filtered
Through the mighty beeches
Of a Bavarian forest.
A royal feast proclaimed.
The mighty Queen arrived.
And took her place on a throne
In a prominent part of the glen.
Sumptuous abundant delicacies
Appeared out of nowhere,
Cheeses and pixie pears,
And saffron flavoured cakes,
Plus, milk laced with honey.
Enchanting lively music
Advanced towards the glen.
Happiness and Felicity
Thrilled the expectant audience.
Soon, darkness fell around,
But innumerable, bright glow worms
Lit up the secluded grassy glen.
Dancing thus began in earnest.
Until they tired out and all returned
To their cosy leaves to dream
About their lovely Fairy Queen.
Sometimes I think the way we view the world is a little antiquarian
for instance we have words to label everyone…from Capricorn to Sagittarian…
Take Deborah and I…we don’t eat meat…we are proudly vegetarian
though occasionally we will eat fish…which makes us pescatarian.
and since we’ve been known to eat a burger…we are most assuredly hypocritarian.
however we do not care what you eat…because we’re not authoritarian.
And though we believe in eating food that is predominantly agrarian
we know it doesn’t matter what you eat…if you are humanitarian.
It doesn’t matter if you are straight or gay…black, white or Hungarian.
If you’re Democrat, Republican, Independent or Libertarian.
It doesn’t matter…if you’re Catholic, Muslim or Sectarian
If you’re a doctor, or a lawyer…a dentist…a Veterinarian…
It doesn’t matter the type of music you like…rap, pop or opera that’s Wagnerian
or how you like your donut cream…whipped…butter…or Bavarian.
I think it’s time to apologize and end this poem
for I have shamefully become aware…
I can’t remember where I was going with it…
and, I imagine you…no longer care.
But let me end with these two hopes…
that you are not a strict grammarian…
and that we all may someday live…
in a world…
egalitarian.
Ludwig ii
A Bavarian King with no bone bad
A Bavarian King introverted not mad
A king who lived life by night
A king who stayed out of sight
The Swan king was his given name
from Bavarian bloodstock he came Maximilians Death took away his youth
On throne pomp splendoured and couth
Peer pressure never kneel
Twas Opera Ludwig did feel
Richard Wagner was his one true love
Ludwig fitted Wagner hand in glove
A queen, A queen the Bavarians did wish
Lovestruck Elsa dry eyes diminish
Conformity died during Ludwigs reign
His sexuality showed no shame
Lake Starnberg scene of demise
Mystery death .Murder or boat capsize
The King ,The King long live the King
Life lived how he chose leaving no offspring
thank you
Froth
spilling
from large mugs
brimming with chilled
Bavarian beer.
Spiced delicacies tempt.
The aroma of grilled meat
pervades the night as senses reel.
Waitresses in traditional dress
serve folks to the sound of music and song.
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23rd September, 2015
Contest: For Love of October
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Placed 5th
Beer
Barrels
On wagons,
Surrounded by
Bavarian girls
In folkloric costumes-
Waving at all the tourists,
Raising beer steins as they roll by.
The beginning of Oktoberfest....
The opening parade's in September!
20150920
OKTOBERFEST
Wielding the power of the hefty beer stein,
Energized with viking-like biceps,
We lift the suds in veneration
In front of our patriotic hearts.
Lively band plays Ein Prosit,
Lips coordinate, resounding louder and louder.
Parade of dirndls and lederhosen -
Amorous couples enjoying Bavarian dance,
Resplendent in reddened faces -
Tapping, turning, with joyful
Yearning, as the oak and maple
Leaves change their costumes, and
Interrupt the Summer’s warmth.
Kamikaze arms tire, dropping their steins, while
Everyone laughs and cheers.
Tables set for a feast of Black Forest
Hams, Potato pancakes, creamy sauerkraut.
Empty stomachs applaud, then quake at the sight of
Rouladin, a savory favorite of flattened beef
Elegantly rolled up with bacon, vegetables, and
Sumptuous pickles. Tantalized tongues ooh and ahh.
None will be left, yet the festival lasts, supplying us with
October’s sensate salted pretzels, a mouth-watering
Treat. Need to down another beer
Or two or three…I’ve lost count!
Memories made on this chilly day,
Ornaments of cuckoo clocks and steins bought for
Remembrance will be hung from December firs.
Robotic we stare, eyes and ears filled with sights and sounds:
Oktoberfest is in the air and,
We’ll party like there’s no tomorrow!
10/13/2016
Partnachklamme
The most beautiful place
Above the Bavarian resort town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen,
There winds a country road which leads to the Partnach gorge.
Hikers are passed by less hearty tourists transported in hay wagons.
On the left side of the road, a river can be spotted through the lindens.
The river water looks like it was drawn with aquamarine pastels,
Having been super-oxygenated from the gorge’s rapids and cascades.
Playful locals built miniature dwellings and piers along the banks.
Loggers used to hike up the dangerous gorge to unblock log jams,
So safer paths were tunneled in and along the walls of the gorge.
So many sight-seers used to sneak up the loggers trails for the views,
That logging ceased and the gorge became a tourist destination.
At the mouth of the gorge, a guest house sells carbonated buttermilk,
Weiswurst, and other Bavarian specialties to fortify or refresh.
During the holiday season, pilgrims carefully hike the trails
Carrying torches which reflect from the icicles and frozen walls.
Waterfalls, narrows, bridges, and a logger chapel
All add to the charm of Partnach Gorge.
When Autumn scenes arrive in Munich, Germany,
Exciting times bring visitors from far and near,
With people dancing, singing, mugs of beer held high,
In halls or tents, saluting so rambunctiously, and
Loving our Oktoberfest with heartfelt cheer that
Lasts more than two weeks with much to see and do.
Parades, arcades, and rides, much like a carnival,
Aglow with dancers in bright Bavarian dress, and
Rides on quaint, old-fashioned pretty carousels,
Together with the varied puppet shows, are fun;
Yes, even shooting galleries to test one's aim.
Laughter and cold beer in mugs enjoyed by most;
If not one's taste, great wines are sold 'neath tents.
Kept close at hand, champagne, cocktails; also
Fresh-squeezed juices are offered if one must abstain.
The delicious food consists of many tastes and treats:
Hearty eaters gather round wild ox roast on a spit, or
Enjoyed is chicken with potato dumplings, red cabbage;
Relished too are Bratwurst, spaetzle, and baked beans,
Ending with desserts like rich black forest cake, plump
Strudels filled with fruit and gingerbread creations.
No one goes hungry at this great Oktoberfest, and
Of fests around the world, ours is one of the best.
To dance and sing with spirits high and free
On meadow grounds in city center, brings joy to
Munich, where feasts were held since eighteen-ten.
Opening with carriages and floats of costumed scenes
Reveals the promises of drink, loud songs, and dance.
Resounding well into the festive night, we sing,
Oh, happy time for us! Let's toast to love and life, and
We will party like there's no tomorrow!
Boast brownies baking
in dirty palm oil bacon fat
Sugar-coated swine vanilla cupcakes;
pineapple upside down snout snacks,
so coconut phone hasty ...
Sound-byte puff pastry
Flour-face teflon pan —
tart marshmallow mint muffin
Silver tongue baguette
spooning out citrus acid banter batter,
so sour cream tasty ...
Lip huff puff pastry
Pinocchio banana crêpe nose;
roasted lies, almond alibis deep fried
Blueberry bagel beak raisin Cain,
yeast yell swelling pride:
Con-fectionary leaven in the oven,
so mint cookie I scream dainty ...
Pigging out on the puff pastry
Prune-flavored pucker paczki,
Fat Tuesday belly decadent bowel delectable
Cinnamon bun —
pumpkin spice glazed doughnut sphincter hole,
so dollar fig bark hasty ...
Plum tweet puff pastry
Odd cream of Bavarian
whip up the Orange Clockwork zest crowd
Egg white octogenarian
kneading raspberry rhetoric —
Gen. Custard pie hole powdered sugar loud,
so strawberry swirl tasty ...
Marble fudge puff pastry
Apple cruller golden crust coin flavor,
chocolate frosting money honey savor
Pecan pie cherry cheek a la mode,
buttery scone biscuits served cold
Key lime cheesecake dainty ...
Black bury tone puff pastry
The Virgin Maid of Orleans, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s La Pucelle
To Robert Caze*
Even as the blaze crackled around the stake’s pyre,
Joan was deafened by the clergy’s brutal chanting,
Harsh eyes with hate from all the windows demeaning,
She felt her flesh quiver and her soul budge on fire.
And like lambs that resold to the butcher expire
The shepherd roamed with country airs whistling
She reflected in earnest on things and being
And met her lord who ungrateful did conspire.
« It’s wrong, gentle Bastard, sweet Charles*, good Xaintrailles,
To let the English take charge of her funeral
She who forced them to abandon the siege of Orleans. »
And as for Lorraine, the very thought of that injury,
While death clasped in its arms the non-believers,
Weary ! She cried out just as another creature formerly.
• Acc. to Yves-Alain Favre, a journalist (1853-1886), slain in a duel.
• Charles the VII, crowned King at Rheims on July 17, 1429, with the help of Joan of Arc who was then aged 15. It was thought Charles VII may not have been the son of his father, Charles VI, owing to an extra-marital affaire with a Bavarian monarch.
• © T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
The Unholy Donut
Void, vacant, empty is my life
Of cream filled treasures
More value there than is the princess virgin
On Sunday where the need’s more urgent
After church and prayers
And rushing with a crashing passion speed
To donut shop with my craven need
Where is my cream filled donut please?
Did I not pay my last three pennies for my treat?
What’s this defeat?
Alas! My dreams are dashed.
The donut is there but not intact
Someone stole the sweet interior
Missing is the Bavarian cream
Absconded from the scene
Missing like a long lost love at sea
Lost like my mind and memory
And like my first love,
Pretty on the outside but empty within
Oh cold cruel world! Where could it be?!
What have I done to deserve such wicket fate and misery?
My just deserts snatched from me from the depths of hell
Some demon monster stole my soul and prize as well
And sold it on the internet I’m sure for pennies more
Advertised by shape, size and smell
Waitress? Oh waitress? Could I have another donut please?
But this time with a hole inside
….something to hold on to with no surprise
Till the day I die
It is that time of year again
wooden clog upon the cobblestone
the red telly in view beer maids
slide the giant steins across
long tables inside the crowded tent
huge pretzel and brats hang sparingly
over the doorway entrance while misty
fog pour in chasing hedge hogs
throughout the forest a rather full
Marketplatz beckons my attention span
I notice the Bavarian alps in view
while riding the mechanical bull
I'm quite taken by the lanky block
in the far corner adjusting stocking
dashing to buy a few more hummels
wooden nut crackers and incense burners
taxi!!!
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
my eyes gazed
over the doting sun
while i focused on
the tall pines that
lined the darkened forest
i'd remember laughter
a quiet timing of tranquil
thoughts nestled so
beneath me i suppose
the snow capped mountains
craves my warmth as i
craved the divine beacon razs
gently time calmly left me behind
WRITTEN BY YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
The days of
wine and rose's
enchanted pose's
I think of you
nothing added
nothing taken away
my thoughts follow you
wandering about
what's left from
the midst of your
melancholy mannerism
captured beyond
wholly adversity fallen
desperately on infamous
tangible chatter over
wiener schnitzel
sour dough bread
potato soup and
a crisp Riesling
over looking the
Bavarian alps mourning
Oktober hidden glances
broken chance's in this
moment we simply are
the very best of ourselves
we are noble willing
challengers on a voyage
beyond this ravished
wildlife mythical muse's
subtle faint hues filled
with yesterdays blues
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen