Best Bayed Poems
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Montezuma Golden on earth he lived upon his land
Cortes his rival metalled horse and soldier Spanish grand
Aztec warrior a noble race to them a god should come
From far beyond their skeleton homes and on beyond their drum
Arrived with thirteen horses led, ship- wrights cooks and priests
Conversion of the savage race for gold to calm the beast
Convert or die a mottoes cry or fall before the sword
For Spain to bow for Phillip now and seek out your reward
They marched and welled volcanoes tell their horses bayed the throngs
Allies deide a growing tide a force with banging gongs
To Mexico go a causeway row an empire of the sun
Dream of gold and rape be told a new utopian
Hostage held Montezuma tell your treasures of the peaks
Deliver now a golden brow or life will leave your cheeks
More and more arrival gold in plaza decked festooned
But leave they say won’t go away disease takes over soon
A battle shout of wooden clouts by causeway boats do meet
Eventually send new boats amend an Aztec mass retreat
To citadel retreat to hell burn out each temple top
The fallen crown for Phillip down complete and burn the lot
A sorrow say a race away today their pride does seep
Christian bell before to tell a loss of millions weep
Cortes rebels and changes shell a death mask soon will show
Response a plea a shame you see as god meets him below
To you
the wind whispered
through the old blue shack, words
too soft for meaning, as Yew limbs
scratched answers against the window. In the
distance a lone ewe bayed in its
lost mourning, when heaven's
breath blew my heart
to you.
03/19/16
Muddy face band and tin-tin man breaking bad
Game of thrones, constants and variables
Contestants variant, variously able, paid under the table
Save it Larry, your speeches are not reliable
We see your Mr Cain, presentable, but is Cain able?
After what you did your reputation is wrecked
Big crowds but little acceptance, the proof is undeniable
But the underlying logic isn't, we were roped in
Gathered and forayed but duds, useless bombs dropped in
Spy-bots and lover gloves and drones flying past
Avalanches and snow fall, dictators rise and fall
Don't look now, but a new Dawn is upon us just now
I saw her in sitting in a lilac dress, counting exes
And memes rose and handlers bayed for blood
Thug angels unite, it's a season for settling scores
But whoever is directing this show will make the final call
Last laugh, best laugh kind of stuff
In a world where tempers always freeze and thaw
It was bad, thunder, rain and lightning
But the powers above the powers still heeded your call
Elsewhere across the divide, his demands denied
Little old rocket man explodes, guffaws over evil designs
I'll blow you mofo's to hell, and winks at a floating butterfly
I was only kidding. But I'm serious, I'm reaching for Aquarius
It's easy to catch his drift, he's furious
Little big man with small big dreams, call him nefarious
But I don't see how name calling is going to save us
You don't have to have gone to DeVry
After Sara’s sadly death,
white doves began chime-
Sara’s hubby Brady found hymns,
their music began sorry rhyme.
Brady seeks prose epics,
poems Sara’s heart would savor-
Jenny might speak truth about Sara’s pains,
maybe she’ll spare vague facts midst favor.
Sappy tears sooth Sara’s Grams,
angel wings dream hazel light-
Three girls plant fancy lilac trees,
Mama’s heart broke; gives Brady sight.
Every woman cried,
every bloke bayed-
Papa’s spine flush,
Mama’s roots evade.
Quiet ocean waves bring death peace,
great Sara’s heavy heart shan’t cease.
*about a girl Sara I know who took her life. She had a husband named Brady and three daughters*
Five Letter Words Contest
435 letters total in this poem
87 words total in this poem
Sponsor: Rhoda Tripp
December 17, 2017
I’m all jacked up on the bottle
And I’m wacked out of my mind
She left me for that mail man
Brown suit done crossed the line
That package she was waiting on
Had two legs and a smile
I’m bout to make a delivery
And I’m delivering red neck style
Ill hunt him with my old coon-dog
Expose with my spot light
Take another shot of whisky
I got a dog in this fight
When you’re messin with my women
You’ve got a country problem my man
I’ve got a first class package
Red neck delivery man
That old coon-dog is bayed up
It about midnight
I slam it in to 4 wheel
His butt is puckered up real tight
Like a tick on a coon dog
Digging in real deep
I don’t need no tracking system
Just my red neck philosophy
So when you hear those glass packs coming
You better scurry up that tree
You can bet your ass I’m coming
You bout to get a piece of me
Cause I’m coming with my coon-dog
Bringing my spot light
I’ll take another shot of whisky
I got a dog in this fight
When you’re messin with my women
You’ve got a country problem my man
I’ve got a first class package
Red neck delivery man
Watch out boy - here I come –
Red neck delivery man
Monday Morning
When I opened the kitchen door the fridge
had an attack of the shakes then feel into
dejected stillness which bayed in my ears.
To break this force of nothingness I spoke
and sounded like a wounded duck and
the beer bottle held in a clammy hand fell
with a foamy splash on the floor; wordless
fear. Why me?
The fridge rattled again but there was
nothing of worth on its shelves other than
bacon, eggs, cheese. Stop, I feel sick.
Turned on the tap and fat maggots dripped
into my glass, that too ended on the floor;
fled, outside people starred at me because
I was dressed in a red bathrobe with Hotel
Astor stamped on the back.
Copyright © Jan Oskar Hansen
Day crackles clean and warm like burning coal
A new passion swam his veins, they bonded him
For that pheromone was strong in him, and abrim
The pack bayed towards the sunlight burning gold
And welcomed a brave brother wolf into the fold
For he who before the bear stood calm, his noble
Suit displayed, found his totem in a moment bold
And transmigrated his soul to the new realm possible.
He could not make destiny again, but destiny chose
For him, the wolf man everywhere was known. He
Was the hero wanted, yet scorned with circles closed
Like doors against him, for all his deeds of mercy.
But the dog gene made him a man's best friend still
And howling he brings the pack always to his will
Neither did they sit while any child or innocent ached
With fear or pain, and from the malice of evil intent.
The wolf man knew but little thought how each act
Propelled him to a higher level and another death sent
For seeds all die that spring to trees, and the same fact
Was true for him every new level he was to attain
While propelled upwards greater animals to become
He knew the bear level awaited him next in the chain
Of cycles. But for service alone his heart still hummed.
Nor did he know hes was hunted too, for one man firm
In his conviction to repay, the thing that from forest came
The thing massive in muscles, humble in every term
That dared the forking tongue of a livid flame
To retrieve a child, the only child the mother left behind
The child that was enblem and memory of that love
Whose death would perish his flesh and torment his mind
The wolf-like thing, the man beast on wings, dove
In from above, and came out with life between his jaws
Hair fried, and limping as if with injured paws
And the throng of them that rush upon the scene then
Making a barrier between it and curious but cruel men
And how it seemed in thin air he vanished without reward
And cause a grateful father to follow the trail full and hard.
Did he have the hours to find him still, to meet the kind
That make us wretched because our hearts are blind
Did he with ego melted, and with a different disposition
Qualify to know and taste the foreign truth of transmigration
To destinies on the brink of fate, and death at the gate
Gasping and gulping, still in the grasp of time we wait.
The wind was blowing,
as the car was going,
across the hills ; across the vales
the night seemed young , as each nightbird sung
to the moon there long and timeless tales.
Then, at midnight hour
the chauffeur rested, his iron fists upon the wheel.
There it was,
The mansion of Margaret May,
whose life tonight I shall verily seal.
I approached the moors like a silent hound
I scaled the walls then climbed the mounds
And though the night was dark and still
I still saw the great house upon the grey hill.
I scanned each wing like a wolf would see,
a sheep as it feeds with humility,
and yet it was no prey, that I was to kill,
for the hounds, they now bayed upon each hill.
The moon gleamed its mischief upon the terrace;
And it shined, like an unearthly thing,
it gleamed its sorrow upon my face,
and wailed its scorn, against the human beings.
I entered the house
the doors were not locked,
so I opened them slowly and its walls they did talk.
They spoke of devils and demons and familiar kind;
But I did not see them for my soul was blind.
I took out the weapon and its barrel shined,
by the light of the moon thay was now declined.
And having climbed up the ladder, to the rooms upstairs,
I found May just finishing her prayers.
She turned around and I gazed at her eyes;
How could such beauty be 'bought' to demise?
I dropped the weapon,
no bullet could shred;
The flesh of the mortal,
that before me was spread.
And yet she would die for the world could not accept,
what in this masion was hidden and kept.
She was not lustful but lust itself
and yet I could not stop myself.
For I had no soul,
I had no sin,
I went for her throat, and held tight her chin.
She did not struggle;
She did not plead.
Rather she smiled, till I had finished the deed.
And left her silent;
And still upon her bed,
and there she lies smiling,
but her heart is cold and dead
hounds across the creek
have something bayed....
brown thrasher lands
The towering pine were poised
at the edge of the forest, standing
in all their majesty,
arms locked, heads touching,
speaking in whispers.
They exchanged secrets the wind
stole and scattered.
So began the saga of the woodlands and
man's intrusion with ax and gun.
Hearing of its bountifulness and beauty,
man intruded upon this haven for God's
creatures.
'I told you so!' Admonished the sun.
'What will we do?' sang the birds in
melancholy notes...
The woodpeckers pecked in woeful harmony.
'Where will we hide' wailed the owl, no
longer giving a hoot.
The crows cawed, cawed, telling a loathsome tale.
Wolves bayed to the moon, deer and fawn
walked in circles.
Bob O Links and mocking birds all spread
the warning that soon man would invade by and by,
moon beams lit up the sky.
The bears hibernated deeper in the woods,
the elk could find no place to hide.
Squirrel and chipmunks chattered...raccoon
left the the wood, the roam in nearby neighborhood.
The possum all played dead.
Big and small the animals scattered for they
knew there was much to dread.
Who told the secret of our wealth they all
wanted to know.
The sun said to the whispering pine, 'Didn't I
tell you so!'
'Didn't I warn you to never tell secrets at the
edge of the forest fore the wind would steal them
awake and tell of our peace and tranquility.
Just you wait and see!'
So it began between the animals of the Forest
and man as man began to cut and burn as they
tried to make it their own.
The once happy animals had become prey, hunted
and hated, or so thought the God's creatures.
Trophies on wall, bragged about.
They come in orange hats and vest, guns roaring...
'Told you!' scoffed the sun, 'Told you!'
'Never tell secrets by the edge of the forest,
someone will hear, someone will hear!'
(written one morning in 1986...
She stood there, silent and still in the shadows,
of the sweet, soft, moon-kissed night.
While the clouds, dark and deep, rolled overhead
she waited, waited for her beloved, the man she hoped to wed.
Pray, would he come at midnight or would he come at dawn?
She lingered on in her agonized silence hoping he would not take
too long.
She listened to the gurgling ripples of the creek’s song,
and she thought of her love.
What had become of he, he with the noble brow frothed with dark curls?
Would he appear suddenly as an apparition to clasp to his breast her face made of pearl?
She heard the breeze whistle through the wood,
She felt the crisp air sting her cheek and she wondered if he would,
come at all.
She waited and stayed and watched but she never saw,
her beloved who came at night in secret.
Slowly, dark became light and night became day
and somewhere across the wood she heard the hounds begin to bay.
Heavy hearted she turned away from her place of silence.
“Alas,” said she, “ I shall endure.” And in defiance,
she stood tall.
As she took her leave she heard the depths of the forest call,
pleading for her to have a steadfast heart.
She was seized with a yearning desire for her beloved that clutched at her, body and soul,
and from her eyes flowed an irrepressible stream of tears.
The moon bestowed upon the trembling girl his precious rays of light to calm her fears.
The hounds bayed again shattering the quiet of the wood,
but no notice did she take for fear of wondering if ever her heart could,
heal.
When would she learn of the tragedy and what would she feel?
Her beloved, the criminal, had been tracked down by the hounds on the highway.
When would she learn of the fatal mistake her heart had made?
Unaware of her love’s fate she a silent farewell bade.
When I die, no more sufferings
'Cos time has come for me to rest;
Savoring the sound of silence,
Till my Lord's caress
Lifts me up from slumber;
Though, I bayed for His blood
Without cause, yet, He taught me
Of living in righteousness
And led me into His fold;
Moment of truth is near,
For I'm at the doorstep
Of my Father's throne,
Hoping for the jeweled crown,
Eternal life, which no man can give;
A new beginning, where there's no end!
It'll be done, unless, I finish the race;
Giving glory and praise in God's Holiness,
Solely, my raison d'etre up to the day....
When I die.
By the sea
By the sea
Where wisps
Of salty air
Fill your breath
Of lonely lovers
And past regrets
And tearful cries
That beckon
Still
Of wishful dreams
They couldn’t fulfill
By the sea
By the sea
Hear me call
Of windy days
That screeches and squalls
With boats bayed and drifted ashore
And storms that have beaten
With a lusty roar
By the sea
By the sea
At war
Tides will lecture us, obtrusively, to our faces,
& it's moments like these we unearth
probity in outlooks and lookouts
to crack the skulls of coconuts. some lives
have small windows, & we, like hounds, look
out & bayed full moons, through panes. & pain,
bringing the high to where the last line
is breathed and we are plumbed. & this
takes fix after fix, to cultivate depravities,
gifts & slumlords, spitting from penitentiaries
the rats & their humans. I saw a few.
This is the kind of stools we sit on
when there is more than blood in our veins
Sometimes guitars sing to us, but the lines ...
are flat, shattered lives. In death,
there's no dreaming, just dumb sleep
The field is given a name.
Battles are about where they disappear,
the ones that walk away
don't know where the hell they are.
There’s a cannon ball under that Yew tree,
there’s a skull under that Ash.
There’s a hank of dried up hair
over there, woven into stone and moss.
After the blood, peace continues destroying barns,
insignia and belt buckles fished out and sold.
Excavated jawbones order and counter-order.
The officers that staggered away
go quietly mad, or marry well.
Surviving hell takes
a lot of stump-footed foraging.
The maimed tell their jerrybuilt tales,
cracked rockers creek along
the slipways of generations.
Hounds bayed at coons.
in the hot afternoons;
that was before the earth gaped open,
before the gore seeped sideways
into the earths wounds.
Good Generals and bad
have had their deadly play,
this scattering and salvage
of the blue and grey that day.