Best Beseeched Poems
Darkness engulfed me
I struggled to adjust to the shadows
blinked when my vision brought to light—
an empty room, rumpled sheets of an unmade bed
a tear-stained pillow where I'd laid my head
There was a wooden luster on the furniture
I sniffed the unmistakable church scent of candles
six long white tapers on two candelabra
My fingertips smoothed white satin beneath me
Thoughts began to drift, sifting through... what?
I was carrying the weight of an albatross
My back bent from the burden held too long
Something was wrong
A mewling of fear formed a question
that I dared not ask
In my ear, a whispered hisssss
"Go ahead and asssk it. It'sss commonplace."
A voice without a face—
disappeared without a trace
My submissive nerves feigning bravado
I tried to rise but curdled
There was a hurdle of some sort in my way
Eyelids too heavy to open
My arms reach to set me free
but I cannot move
No words escape on my tongue
I cursed the albatross that held me down
Away from me, I wanted it flung
I searched to find courage to ask
if I was facing death or a demon's call....
In my ear, a whispered hisssss
"Go ahead and asssk it. It'sss commonplace.
Asssk the question if you dare."
That voice without a face—
disappeared without a trace
I felt a kiss upon my cheek
from trembling lips that did not speak
That pungent scent of too many flowers
should've had me suffering a headache
Had I been resting here for hours?
"If this is not a dream
then tell me...." I beseeched
But the world was out of reach
Thoughts abandoned me
I tried to feel a pulse, a heartbeat—
There was another kiss
Tears on my cheek, but not my own
I froze at the sound of another hissss
Categories:
beseeched, dark, fear,
Form:
Narrative
Maidens, bloody maidens, I had me six of ‘em wenches, ye knowest
Fullsome Catherine of Aragon wrought havoc ‘tween me and the Pope
Besought a divorce, split from the church whilst Anne Boleyn caught mine eye
'Twas beheaded whenst in ‘er capacity to produce a male heir I lost hope
Mine affection waxed for Jane Seymour; I beseeched ‘er t’ marry me
Anne’s body not yet cold in the ground whenst Jane became mine queen
But after giving me a son, Jane withered, twas gone in two weeks
For ‘er I mourned two years, afore proposing to Anne of Cleves
Ye knowest this “Flanders Mare” twas not suited for mine royal court
Nay, ‘er domestic skills tweren’t becoming of a stately king’s wife
At mine auld age of 49, I grew enamored of young Kathryn Howard
She but 19 when I divorced Anne and beseeched ‘er t’ share mine life
But Kathryn had eyes for other blokes, made me look like a pompous joke
"Thou dost not deserve thine title," I declared, had ‘er executed
Twice widowed at the age of 31, Katherine Parr I settled for
This wench cared for me as I grew ill, thus is undisputed
Prithee t’ see after six attempts, I finally met mine match
Katherine inherited mine throne once mine body twas laid t’ rest
From heaven I look back fondly at mine spirited days of yore
Knowing that in a regal sense mine first wife twas truly mine best
* For Lisa Cooper’s “I Want Some Old English Scandal” contest
Categories:
beseeched, historyme, age, age, body,
Form:
Narrative
Once again, you’re putting out your blinds
It’s this wicked game you play at minds
With the chiseled pot concealed,
My heart’s cards are now revealed.
I’m getting broken down again.
You’ve locked me up into this stain,
And as I try to raise heart’s chase
You lay there still, poker faced.
You force me into this blinding bet
Where no one is allowed to check,
Still you show me all your faces
As your wretched cards take their places.
‘Guess I have to get a grip,
Your words are dealing against my lip.
For they’re begging me to call
And see if I’ve lost my heart at all.
I’m no longer your full (fool) of hearts,
Letting you invade my private parts.
I’ve beseeched for long enough
For you to fall from your discomfited bluff.
You stand as an immortal Ace,
Wounded through my composed face.
Though I never knew it could,
My heart is now lost for good.
© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila
Categories:
beseeched, loss, lost love, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Innocently, I peeked outside of Eden's gate,
curious to the outcome of Adam and Eve's fate.
Shocked when I saw him wearing a large fig leaf,
a precursor to men's underwear, called 'the brief.'
I beseeched Mother Nature for a gust of wind
and prayed that would not be considered a sin,
but all she delivered was a gentle little breeze.
That was enough to make me fall to my knees.
A flash of his verile manhood was all it took
to make me sigh and then take another look.
Suddenly, I was filled with libidinous desire,
gasping when the wind lifted the leaf a bit higher.
I held my breath, trying not to make any noise,
but I've never been a paragon of grace and poise.
"Who are you?" he said, "What do you want?"
I'm just admiring the fig leaf you proudly flaunt.
No, I didn't really say that. I couldn't speak at all.
I simply admired his physique. Gosh, he was tall!
My cheeks grew warm from the heat of a blush,
and I yearned to touch his bronze skin. What a rush
that would be, but I just stood there like a fool.
I mumbled something silly. Something about a tool.
What could I do after disgracing myself like that?
I offered him a fig leaf, saying, "Thanks for the chat."
If there's a moral to this story, it shouldn't be told,
at least not until I'm either senile or insanely bold.
No man I've ever met since seeing Adam's worth
has measured up to him, not in length nor in girth.
I shouldn't share my tale, but it was a sight to see,
and if you'd been there, you would have to agree.
I planted a fig tree, and through years gone by,
no leaves were large enough to cover Adam's guy.
April 2, 2022
This or That, Vol 11 Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Fig Leaf Theme
Categories:
beseeched, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Years ago, you found me grounded with wings afraid to fly.
Toting smiles and wants of note, you paused to view my sky.
Was soon that I thought once, and you concurred twice,
that merging our styles would make a love themed paradise.
Years confirmed our intangible wares of mutual shares.
Even our highs and lows equally sighed with visual cares.
I never grew concerns about thunder, so I did not feel around,
poke or peek under for shudders from lightening blunders.
I saw no clue stains for panic in any cracks of tragic.
Then, at my joy’s peak in romance’s security streak,
you turned cold and scowled, ice water endowed.
Stayed confusion hovered in my same daily clouds
as your words and actions rose into caustic attacks.
My full tears left clear tracks, but my world swirled black.
Trapped in walls with love's silt, my once full heart spilt
as your cold face growl tilted me with its cruel wilt.
Bones gone, feelings stung and laid me on our bed you built.
Sob chokes watched hopes darken and fall on our quilt.
I heard your shoes sounding the harsh retreat of a final leave.
My reality undone, I spun inside a brutal, nightmarish tide.
My shivers surged frail coldness, exposing me as clueless.
In my mind, fantasies fumbled seeking a stronghold.
I beseeched memories to transition into numbing flakes
that would deaden all my grieving from this love mistake.
Categories:
beseeched, abuse, angst, betrayal, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
A spirited moon skipped and skid
across the silent snowy steppes
as a pale sun sidled and slid.
Her passionate sensuous steps
softly seduced the stars to shine
across the silent snowy steppes.
I beseeched the night to be mine,
singing a sentimental song,
softly seduced the stars to shine.
The Milky Way formed a sarong
surrounding me with deep desire,
singing a sentimental song.
I followed lustily in dire
need of fragrant vanilla grace,
surrounding me with deep desire.
The mystical night chided me,
a spirited moon skipped and skid.
Her radiance had blinded me
as a pale sun sidled and slid.
Categories:
beseeched, desire, moon, night, romantic,
Form:
Terzanelle
Oh! To wish of a far-away land,
Where flowers of all colours bloom without fear,
The colours that our eyes can meet,
Of all the dreams we left unseen.
Oh! To wish of a serene icy lake,
Where the ice sparkles at the morning rays,
The rays of sunshine we beseeched,
Of all the people we left behind in memories.
Oh! To wish of a majestic forest,
Where the canopies are taller than our hopes,
The leaves protecting our inner souls,
Of all the rumination we cannot forsee.
Oh! To be so wishful in existence,
Where the whims of emotions rush a breeze,
The wind reminding us of our liveliness,
Of all in this world we can imagine and be.
Categories:
beseeched, destiny, dream, emotions, happy,
Form:
Free verse
He knelt and prayed
He asked for a mate to help him throughout life
He asked for a friend
He beseeched for a love that would never end
What he received was more than what he had hoped for
She is stubborn beautiful kind and gentle and her fire caught his desire
She is all that he requested and more
His life will never be the same
Especially once he changes her name
She love him for him and nothing more
He is her friend and confidante and her mate
He is her everything
So the Cowboy and his Angel have each other
Fate was kind no more feather or fur
For now and throughout time
Categories:
beseeched, cowboy-western, love, love,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
Slumber beseeched this sight which closed
In warmth of silence to brush repose....
Silkened choirs of soft voices heard
Scions whispers gracing ivories notes ~
As carriages gliding atop sweet serenities
Keys as visions amid these their dreams
In violet hues composed upon the candescent walls
Awakening vistas once held dormant inside
Portraitures, panoramic blinds....
Reciprocating their eye shadow etchings these, cosmetic designs
Until, slumber beseeched this sight which closed
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In warmth of silence, to brush repose ~
Categories:
beseeched, faith, life, love, time
Form:
Better to be bold in battle
then benign in retreat!
No victory comes from actions prattle;
May honor be found in refusing defeat -
My vaults will not be breeched
by faults,
may we have a merry waltz
devoid of all unsavory salts,
this of you I have beseeched -
On this table we have met to render fable
rich as ancient Babyl,
heralds of ancestral heros and our forces' label,
bulwarks raised above this field's haze, stalwart gaurds strong and poised,
daunting sounds of ritual carols, the primal ones that spirits praise,
what is this match but a moment for atonement,
trite tribute and humble homage if you wicked will foment,
my battalions and I are stolid, faithful, our souls not being rent,
the birds in sky like personal medallions signify for we, victory is meant,
in the center sentries stood,subterfuge, lethal blows I knew you would,
a Queen as envoy repelled rudely, religiously crude as you brood,
armistice you will seek knowing bleak the future be,
like battered egos quiet speak,loosing strength,you shall weep and sneek
to snatch the proud prey from eagle's beak, your pommel being sweaty sleek,
terrified of the Promeathean peak, of my glory you may peek,
The mellow march of my bagpipes,a pallid pitch that makes men creep
they like leary sheep my wolves will eat,
must you trust a God of glutton lust,and savor his decree,
of Athena I have asked,athwart this army made by brass,
as broken glass shattered fast it shall yeild to Her Mass,
shaken soldiers running past, your eyes will cry the slaughters vast,
pray not in vain to block our rasp, or for this fauna you'll be mast,
my blood as Emperor say you crave, oh how brave,
like a slave made the day his grave was paved,
such a man is never saved,
J.A.B. Part One -
Categories:
beseeched, war,
Form:
Epic
January twelfth two thousand and ten
witnessed near annihilation and destruction
of the Haitian nation
whereby countless/ nameless individuals
e’en the strongest Herculean type men
crushed by humungous slabs of building facades
practically demolishing every creation
since this island settled, which indigenous tribes
sought safety in any geologic den
seeking solace and salvation from wrath of nature
by paying obeisance via oblation
perhaps giving credence to clear water
in tandem with rooster and hen
that laid a golden egg,
especially as encroaching savages affected violation
particularly when Europeans foisted
forfeiture of land with primitive implement like pen
no matter that travesty, trickery, mockery,
et cetera wrought humiliation
pleading invaders to forsake such actions
that rent asunder culture beseeched god when
these brutish, nasty and (shortish) simians to cease desecration
yet the peoples of this dominion rose
from the ashes like the phoenix like bird
no mattered genetic pool
underwent white washing from scouring influx
from western thumping proselytizers,
which alien beliefs hard to swallow like curd
and basically bribery (with lustrous trinkets)
and those coveted legal tender bucks
foisted/ forced the unpleasant alternative
(wanton slaughter) to be clearly heard
yet within the very fiber of tropical man grove persons
patiently lined up their ducks
and declared as the first African American peoples
INDEPENDENCE to be the word
whence adulation, elation, inspiration akin to the sound winged fowl clucks
until the advent of the major earthquake
composed by this aging hippy type nerd
whereat remote control san voodoo affect every bloody word!
Categories:
beseeched, abuse, anger, black african
Form:
Elegiac Lyric
(autobiographical)
I was barely eight before mother died
When Gerald was happy and not as reduced
When he was the loved son
The child with a loving home.
From aunt to aunt I learned to live
Out of the anger of dad
Out of the voice that brought fear.
Into the hand of pestilence-
My second life began-
A life of maltreatment,
A life of struggle
Elder brother disowned when he revolted
The treatment harsh and inhuman - so he bolted.
I joined the struggle
The life of scuffle
Wherein I was the marked
The recalcitrant and ragged
The delinquent in school
The tortured child of the family's few
Who outlived the deads of two aunts
Beseeched to care for him.
I am half mad, they tell me
I know I am a psychic
Half crazed child
A ricochet of mum’s death-
I have been alienated
Disillusioned by life, ill-fated
Tortured by a disturbed mind.
Dad on my heels
Listening to propaganda
murder-bent at my heels
flogged flogged flogged till I go for pills.
Fled my home to the street
Ate from the bin
Lived with street kids
One of the flocks
One of the hard rocks.
I have been in the cold
No bosom have rocked with me
Save mum’s who lies in the clay.
I am spiritually dead
Physically out of mind, they say.
From pastor to pastor
From prayers to prayers
From recessions to intercessions,
Through starvation for correction
I remain unchanged.
I am finished, they say.
Nothing can help me
save God on whom I weep and call.
My relatives
Alienate me
making me atychiphobic
Aggravating my anthropophobia
building in me gelotophobia
and all those anthropological phobias
A loved child has no right to know.
It bringing me pain for they are nailing me shut.
I pity myself - Pity me father
Pity me, brother
Because I have tried
Tried to be loved
Tried to be the best from limps
But I am not up to those dreams.
I know that many dislike me
Feel uneasy when Gerald is around:
Instead of helping me
They become indifferent, violent.
I told Louisa last week as she fumed at methat
anything I lay my hands on
fails to work again.
It either gets bad or broken.
My own things end up craggy
No matter the patience and prudence I put in.
Why then am I born?
Why the fear
Why the alienation?
I pray that I be left alone
Donot curse me again, donot.
Accept my fate and let me be
Else you help in killing me.
Categories:
beseeched, child, grief, inspirational, lonely,
Form:
Didactic
Denied an unspoken moment
If I were only "granted" the chance
The right suspiciously stolen
Upon your untimely-you left
My heart pierced, laden with leftover guilt
A wound not completely healed
Tears descend out of broken windows
My troubled essence hardly feels
Anguish I refused to admit
Looking past my face
Avoiding my reflection's gaze
Attempting to ignore my personal distaste
I remember clearly the fourth day
Though it was truly my first
More enraged at being the last to know
I wallowed in a selfish hurt
So ANGRY
Praying it an unpleasant joke, deflecting
Snatching the band of trust off my non-right hand
I've beseeched to be forgiven
Feeling no "You are"
Wish strongly time could reverse
To days before you resigned from existing
residing in the seed of my grief
So you, I can release you to peace
Exit the abyss that consumed me
Get over the growing mountain before me
Now I apologized hauntingly
I must traverse around to get past
What I naught gotten over
Loved you so much so
Must let you go
Uncertain if you knew
My apology, my sable shade, love unexpressed
Never received the chance
Foe the truth of my words
To embrace your final ears
I'm sorry. Goodbye.
Categories:
beseeched, anxiety, bereavement, best friend,
Form:
Elegy
Spirited knights from a long ago age
Were transported to this century
Seeing as they had no foe to engage
They moped around aimlessly
Before their doldrums turned to rage
They sought out a job agency
That would strive to find them a good wage
Due to the knight’s urgency
But the hitch in this new age fable
Of which this story is based
Was the shocking headhunter’s cable
That proposed jobs in hazardous waste
It seemed they’d be worth their mettle
So their talent agent thought
Since they sported all that metal
Punctures would be less than naught
As their first foray in this career
Was not what they beseeched
Since hospitals for these cavaliers
Contained a plank with a leech
But they learned to remove harmful gear
Plus organs the size of a peach
And swabs and gloves and what others fear
Like sharps washed upon the beach
One day Galahad’s nose turned runny
Because his health turned frail
Yet what happened wasn’t too funny
When a needle slipped inside his mail
He cried out to his god
I think I’ve reached the end
There’s a germ infested rod
Dispensed in my rear end
Oh, for crying out loud
Yelled Lancelot to his friend
Stop acting so highbrowed
That little prick will surely mend
Yet while the knights gathered around
To strip Galahad’s chain link
They loudly sang to drown the sound
As that knight put up a stink
So the moral of this fable is
That lands on the other side
Albeit fences or era’s ‘tis
Not always greener far and wide
3/10/14
For Francine's Tickle My Funny Bone contest
Categories:
beseeched, health, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Ma decreed they needed some culture to enhance their sedentary existence.
Pa wasn't all that enthusiastic and offered some very stiff resistance!
Especially when Ma steered him to the city modern art museum.
He would just as soon visit the parish graveyard mausoleum!
Pa was reared a country boy and for cultural matters had very little zest,
But on this occasion he pampered Ma - he knew better than to protest!
Pa's appreciation for art was confined to barns with a Mail Pouch Tobacco ad,
Or gazing at a painting in the local saloon of some woman scantily clad!
His ear for music was satisfied by the honky-tonk gal at the local bar.
He was a poetry aficionado, reading Burma Shave rhymes from his car!
Ma once told him to wear a suit and escort her to her literary club,
But he preferred beer and banter with his pals at the local pub!
He could appreciate Saturday Evening Post covers by Norman Rockwell,
And Grandma Moses' nostalgic and simple scenes he recalled so well,
But the ghastly art he viewed in the modern art museum that day,
Seemed to him to have been crafted by chimpanzees from Mandalay!
The visit to the museum left Ma and Pa extremely cross.
Her attempts to refine him, she admitted, were a total loss.
She beseeched, "At least I wish you'd drink your beer from a glass!
I give up! I do declare Pa! You just ain't got no class!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
beseeched, funny, art, art,
Form:
Rhyme