Best Beleaguer Poems
Written: February 24, 2024
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Moonbeams kindle ambrosian dreams
Love evolves on auric gleams
A gem in space, a costly pearl, a Luna
Fetching felicitous feelings, a fervid fawn
In this wassail ethereal area, hearts soar
I was awestruck by the lambent moon
Glittering gems, gilded in dull dust
Vanity surpasses a chimeric spell
A cromulent devotee, in awe
Emerald aureola, blazing high star
Heavenly memoir amphorae
Sew love from words in utter gaze.
Toed moon syntax tonight
In our bucolic spot, love will thrive
We are those who wield abilities of orbs
Sparse straps, splitting stripes
Love outshines crimson swirls
Sapphire adorns translucent tulips
Sturgeon Roe names cast in crystal
Sipping strawberries spoils serene seas
My love infused a porcelain spirit
Sketch my comely soul
Let me breathe your raspy hiccups
Believe me—beyond oblivion
Your Zinnia blooms gambol my heart
Gorgeous, lost in a well-woven nimbus
Fugacious felicity and fluff on fiery flowers
Rising flames, faint shooting, conflict.
Outside orbs offer otherworldly orbits
Deciphering diaphanous riddles
Could night cherubs grasp our grace?
Classic clear cloud cores
A balmy silk breeze hides enigmas
Covered below perseid colors
Your dulcet eyes sparkled dimly
Rose-tuned praise of cyan candidness
Via velvety vintage valleys, vivid verse vests
Beleaguer back the fire of our waltz
The moonlight lifts our mellifluous breath
Dreams soar in tangerine skies.
an Arabian sonnet
Raising up a falcon brood – bucolic,
one becomes extremely melancholic.
Yesterday a clamor vitriolic
told of eyas’ danger diabolic.
Trying panacea called a mixer
feeding drops of magic juice elixir,
desultory effort served to fix her.
Little did I know there was a trickster.
Still forbearance caused my heart to tremble.
Gathered on the roof, my birds resemble
teenage bullies looking to dissemble.
Such assemblage often does beleaguer.
Lissome sibs had pushed off little leaguer -
fellow eyas not yet fledged but eager.
*eyas (eye’ yuz) is a nestling falcon
taken from the nest for training, plural is eyasses
For all the tears we’ve wept, for all of those we’ve lost.
We’ll weep again some more, as we’re told we matter not.
You know they will not say it, but it’s there within their eyes.
The old and frail aren’t welcome, as they’re steadily pushed aside.
If you don’t believe me, then at a party get up as if to dance.
Mouths will gawk and eyes will roll as they come to set us back.
They’ll act like we’re so shameful, as we laugh, and have some fun.
Then they’ll come to guide us to a chair somewhere in the background.
Our wisdom isn’t needed; they’re far too superior for that.
They can’t respect the old ones' thoughts, who're out of date, in fact.
Of course they want our money, and will gladly scope out our homes.
And they want us to beleaguer ourselves so they can go happily on.
But where is the regard that they say our age is due…
Too often it’s in a distant Nursing home no one will ever drive to.
This is dedicated to all those lost souls left in Nursing Homes whom no one
ever visits.
********
Through the length
Of the years'
In order to maintain
Our Faith
We must beleaguer Our
Bounds'
Must maintain
Our Grace....
Poet Author
Gary Fields
Oh thorn of my heart,
Why do you linger,
You raptured on the ramparts,
With gentle coos to bemuse and beleaguer,
My antagonist persona of strangling vines and petrified bark,
Entranced by your words of amber,
I found solace in your arms,
Entwined in love at last I eagerly await your call,
And yet as endless days wear away the calendar,
Our separation has no end in sight,
I spend my waking hours earnestly looking over my shoulder awaiting your return,
Aimlessly wandering along the overgrown paths we made during our romantic nights,
Your name escaping my lips in gasps during fitful slumber of turmoil and distress,
Carelessly throwing myself into the din of battle as a momentary reprieve,
To cease the voices in my heads I struggle to suppress,
They rack my mind with images of your demise leaving me crippled with grief,
And paralyze my body with the fear of your perpetual absence,
Like a tree overcome by the snows of winter I lie motionless on the floor,
Smothered by decaying rose petals and fading memories,
Desperately clinging to your promises of our future as an end-all cure,
A dream bereaved of its luster when challenged with reality,
Where are you my love,
We were supposed to see the world together,
Now I find myself once again upon the rampart broken and beleaguered,
Bereft of hope, shunned by my people as a traitor to the Pale Tree,
Oh Caithe,
Thorn of my heart,
Why did you leave me.
I pen a lousy poem
where verbperturbs,
noun frowns
And adjectives
act as clowns
onomatopoeia breeds paranoia
That swarthy sounds on murky mounds
Are conspiring to beleaguer
The Celestial castle of self
Simply for power and pelf
Where transferred epithets
Serve old meals in new plates
Fixing ''weary''with the ''way''
And insead of men, calling the inn gay
Where rotten rhyme talks things sublime
And weaving a whim around a slender theme
I narrate a tale that reverberates the vale
Forgetting his stress and tension
A passerby stands near my mansion
Listening with rapt attention
The saga of passion's cruel detention
Home for Horn Haiku
Have a home for Horn haiku
Enjoyed by me and you
More than just a few.
What is proper procedure
Should we be a besieger
And also beleaguer.
If a stranger take my hand
Trip to paradise was planned
Is on high demand.
Why bite the hand that does feed
Who we no longer do need
Where should we stampede
Read Horn haiku and when done
Will think I am only one
Such a thing have done.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Home of Seven-Seven-Five
All American Horn Haiku.
Home for Horn Haiku
Have a home for Horn haiku
Enjoyed by me and you
More than just a few.
What is proper procedure
Should we be a besieger
And also beleaguer.
If a stranger take my hand
Trip to paradise was planned
Is on high demand.
Why bite the hand that does feed
Who we no longer do need
Where should we stampede.
By all has been well agreed
Horn Haiku fulfils each need
Let them take the lead.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
All that glitters ain't gold
Weighs that we've been sold
Don't let my words scald or scold
Listen
Hear the wise
Of an owl with eyes
As old
As the first
Uni
Verse that I learned
With a scowl upon my brow
Only to curse
In reverse
The many things we humans do
And I'm guilty too
Too many a minds have been plundered
To barren thoughts asunder
And we crawl
Through it all
Ways to ponder
Why life's a wonder?
If living what we said
That God is coming?
Then why we runnin'?
I reread
The blood in me
And you
And the fine print times two
And how life would figure
When we triggered
Survival versus wither
Laying siege we beleaguer
Relievers of deceivers
Wanting no leaders
To conceive
Like that girl Mary
Lost lambs wary
Grown contrary
To our imagination
And the self frustrations
Of cherishing our creations
And the find
Of a spine
Of our kind
On a peaceful mission
A star trek of volition
Where no man
Can deliver us
From the quiver
Of hither to hither
Enigmas sharing freedoms
Paid to believe in
Five for the first
Ten for the last
Breathe of air
Times a thousand I dare
The thought
Of answers bought
Often sought
Just prancers
With a nose red cancer
For the greed of romancers
Of delusional highs....
Have an Alm in Palm of Hand
?So how about this poem in your hand's palm,
While some poor person had sought an alm;
For poor pegging
While begging,
Hoping that weather continued to be calm.
Does anyone actually laugh
at any of my various poems
that are hilarious even though
precarious?
When the wine was fresh from vine,
Would it be yours or might be mine;
When we set sail,
God's wind did prevail,
We always knew that it was Thine.
Thought of Trump joining the service;
Would make me worry and nervous,
And while we waited,
Should be annihilated;
Back ground poor which is previous.
Jim Horn
What if it had been a cinder,
She should return to sender,
Where she did go,
We would not know;
Might became a mind bender.
Jim Horn
Had been a bright big leaguer
Who would always beleaguer
Was rotund,
Yet moribund;
Became deep digger go figure.
They said there was a star struck swami,
Saw bright moon being made over Miami;
Had played fiddle,
Not giving a didle;
Could be a scam between you and me
.
Laughing yet when you get,
poems that you will regret?
So ten poems I may not exceed,
Poetry entries will always impede;
Took a chance;
Did enhance;
Later more of them tried to feed.
Jim Horn
Part of priest's proven plan
Was not part of priest's proven plan;
He did refrain from needing bed pan;
Might grow,
And overflow;
From entire church were sure to ban.
Movement About Things That Matter
There are movements about things that matter,
And many records are sure will start to shatter,
When they met,
Happily set,
As up and down streets shall start to scatter.
Jim Horn
Women's marches taking place.
Sad and Somber Moment
Sure was such a sad and somber moment
Caskets were carried wherever they went;
Were those brave,
Buried in a grave,
And later to heaven they would be sent.
Jim Horn
Written as I watched the caskets being disembarked
form the plane.
If only you were me,
Would you beleaguer me then too?
Your words they pierce through like bayonets!
You do not discern the imperium of your words,
And I would never pray for you,
To be in my shoes.
My flaws they are naked,
Open like a lunette,
Through which I can peer through,
Seeing and believing all is true,
Like broken shards they hurt me;
You don't have to tell me too.
If only I were you,
I wouldn't let you be,
What you have put me through,
I would cherish thee,
For then I'd be happy too,
It would have been a blessing true.
7/11/20
JUDGED BY A JURY OF YOUR PEERS CONTEST
Sponsored by: Mark Koplin
When first met him, he acted like leader,
used to pretend as a great achiever;
sought to bypass the laid down procedure.
Some disliked him for acts as beleaguer;
His working process many did not like
his didactic style workforce did dislike.
His behaviour in office with juniors
was rough, never bothered for their futures;
Some of them opined he was a meaner.
His mischievous acts didn't like by seniors.
His pessimism caused him sickness sadly;
Yet, juniors whom he treated so badly
rushed him to hospital stayed there gladly
till release next day, they acted manly.
~X~X~X~
The rain pon the windowsill
The pounding of my heart
The sound that looms round
the empty room
And rends my soul apart
The pillow next, not damp like mine
unslept on lo these many years
yet stained a bit with drops of wine
Spilled along with bitter tears
That beleaguer me and always will
Like the rain upon
...The window sill…
Written: March 30, 2024 For Ink Empress Ethereal Lantern Contest
Quote By Rumi: “The lamps are different, but the Light is the same. One matter, one energy, one Light, one Light-mind, endlessly emanating all things.”
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In every fleeting felicity, twilight dislimns.
Gaunt into gossip, gossamer of gold glove.
Sewn-in vibrant amethyst and topaz,
laden in the ethereal glow of moonlight.
An eerily lit candle glides over the sea,
brittle, bare in a lambent, gossamer veil
soft vibe exudes a nostalgic indigo mood.
A life pearl holds hope and love
exquisite lantern shapes ethos
diaphanous for a soft glow
quiet pull and rhythmic delight.
Dazzle and dance to Daunt Daub
awe-inspiring lanterns, a mesmerizing sight
a gentle glow gracefully grows with breeze,
Elysian elixir sight to elicit one to their knees.
Owls deem Nubian sky depths
a heartfelt jewel from heaven
Humanity is still a model of clay
overlooked amid the artifacts of divine
blithely beshrew beleaguer blunt battle
and how the fluid obscurity undulated
embrace that pure clarity
If gloom dulled spark of empyreal kismet.
Their genesis maunder motley mystery
their nexus is nebulous; ogle as a panacea
and possess a hypnotic, pellucid spell
It casts a glow on all who dwell.
Fetch them felicitously, float flourishing,
and feel your soul overflowing with love
amid auric doxology of celestial lanterns
Infuse your spirit with unadulterated bliss.
Written: April 3rd 2024
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How I venerate you, O Lord
In your lens, lenity and levity loom
as a benign breeze
Stars doth glitter in a prolific night sky
Their radiance is a celestial litter
guiding wayward souls to shine
When people slumber, embrace
They heed no calls.
Even gates sealed by nobility
won't disrupt their serene sleepiness
yet I embrace your extol in solitude
In an epoch where time stretches
No flame flickers with fervor
as I wassail on Ambrosian Amber
amorist aflame by zeal and dazes
I spy on myself with an unequivocal shield
Observing an abundance of stars in motion
With clouds skating kindly, hide-and-seek
Through a sky smeared with ink
It's well past midnight
My knees start to quake and aquiver
I had eagerly awaited the moment.
Beneath clay of life
Amidst challenges, beleaguer
I'm tripping and fumbling from a perch
Oh, what a sight...
I fall from my pedestal
Now diminished to creeping and crawling
Our separation has been long
and crave your arcane embrace
It's been ages since
I first revered your ariose divinity
I will never perish asunder.
I grasp your blithely unfathomable lens
I am witnessing the blossoming of canorous love
while I am tangled in its throes
My clangor corpulent return is obvious
after desultory crestfallen
I grapple in agony, seeking mercy
Despite my anguish, I felt forlorn
in need of your diaphanous meed
But you never let me be lonesome
Constantly providing an unwavering glow.
Dulcet shrine dances
A hundred billion mirrors
Elysian pin-sized effusive
Dazzles with an ephemeral glow
Rising in an esoteric mirror
Fastidious gossamer glimmers
Of the divine inveigle
Until you bear them in
How will you realize?
Who resides there?
Elixir lyrics by masters
Churning my impalpable blood
Into jaunt juicy ambrosia.
You grasp my languid state
And celebrate
Wait till I dissolve
Into loquacious nectar
then will drink and maunder
a nebulous nexus was around?
Written: May 03, 2024
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Isolated each aspect—bereft of any link,
An ambrosian aura encircles an empty clink.
Lenses produce rippling prisms out of embrace,
They glide through a quivering mind—arcane case.
Someone has trapped an aura in an optical hall,
Awareness is molded by external gaze—it recalls.
Whispers of sunshine and shade intertwined,
Cast shadows and advise on edges—undermined.
Memories faded into a sepia hue—silence now,
The howling gusts serve as audible avows.
This ancient wind originates from the past,
Weighed down by sorrow—of dwindling cast.
Smiles in darkness—as tongues held quiet,
Time is ethereal, and memories are defiant.
A sepia-hued whisper-echo beckons me,
An aureate beleaguer core is to foresee.