Best Boding Poems
AMERICA, OH AMERICA
America, oh America, the mother of Exiles,
Mighty woman with a torch,
Towers high as a top notch
Whose flame is the imprisoned fire
With conquering limbs empire,
Astrife from kingdom to kingdom
Aiming to regulate the world's freedom
Fooled the world, psychopathic savagery
Comes a nightmare nation's can't win. Sadly
Inciting the world's pain
Just for a self-centered gain.
Why enforce anti-coronavirus vaccine
To reduce the world strain
And population via an epidemic never seen
Earth quacking, nation's unconscious
Micro chip initiative, a sociopathic barbarism,
5th Generation arising but the world is suspicious
Now terrorism unites the Christians and every Muslim
Illuminati illuminating ill-boding injuries
With unimaginable wealth and affluence,
Obsession for power and control influence
Implementing the Luciferean agenda,
On a mission of no retreat no surrender,
Initiating a Bill through the Gates,
Deaths baits? Well, we will willingly wait.
Bill's Billions breeding bioactive vaccines,
Satan launching his arsenals and machineries,
Forby mendacities leading to deadly advancement,
Deceitfully enforcing a One World Government
Suggestively and opinionatedly by Pope Francis
Preparing the ground for the Antichrist menace.
"In God We Trust" means God's own country
Now oridinary a slogan to all and sundry,
Deviated from the Godly path of ancestors & esteemed,
No more the dream the dreaming dreamers dreamed.
America, oh America!
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 8th April, 2020.
Categories:
boding, 1st grade, america, poetry,
Form:
Narrative
In a chariot of fire in the sun
blew a pale horse and pale rider’s last breath,
and on your grave sings a boding raven
in the shadows of the valley of death.
Where no graven image rise from its bones,
only a cold wormwood wind on death row
pipes through the rushes beyond the tombstones
where time cut short above stood still below.
But far more does sound a haunting in me
as if your faint voice my ear passing through -
and I trapped betwixt next world and earthly
sit this day communing with God and you.
Yet I fear death itself I shall not mourn
when diviners blow its fiery flamed horn.
Written: July 1995
Categories:
boding, bereavement, death,
Form:
Sonnet
On gossamer lips
Wisped coppery tendrils
Showering sparks
Riding evening breezes
That radiate off my
Eyelashes in papery
Wet slivers
Sticking only when
Your song of ill-boding
Is breathed over me
Its primitive amity
Contused and crusted
On baneful syllables
In sweet consummation
Where at last I see the
Crumbling bouquet
That’s falls
Onto your pages
Categories:
boding, introspection, life, passion
Form:
Free verse
I am being held hostage by a pressing force of incognizant, and I am impregnated in a world of spiraling storms of confusion.
Fragments of memories prods my mind. Sudden and swift memories of my failings and sins are but a measured minute of my life.
Why can't I remember slipping into this fog of incertitude, this doom pressing force of incognizant.
My heart grows numb against the days and nights that I spend in despondency.
Familiar faces shifts to peculiar and ill-boding images.
Solitude is a conundrum of emptiness. A bittersweet embrace.
My tongue is locked in an aphasia space.
My brain has forgotten its ability to command, and so my legs and arms have no will of its own.
I want to run away, run to a place that will strike a familiar note in my brain.
I hate being handled by strangers who pull at me and torture me with applications of abuse.
In a regular diurnal, my dignity is decomposing.
Despair is the song of my wretched soul.
I can not stop crying.
copyright Labyrinth of Life
Categories:
boding, confusion,
Form:
Light Verse
At home, I have witness them all,
Witness the process of germinating
From precious seed sown amongst thorn and tares,
To taken root, even when there’s no chance
There is unverified full hatred,
Wild spurious jealousy from unlikely,
To nothing he would amount, voices their hearts;
Contrariwise, out of nothing came something,
I have been slain, buried and resurrected
Used, laundered and rejected like a dress
Kindred, neighbours, acquaintance fellows alike
I dreamt of monitors, daemons with sharp horns
On top, with needle arrows aiming at me;
Vomiting fierce sulfur Dragon blocking my path,
Seen faceless monsters hindering me,
Fearsome beast from ancient castle stalking me,
Even Goliath ghost with quadruple eyes on the thorax
Nails shooting out like razors,
Mysterious the Thing with dozen of various heads
And the deadly blood angry serpents
Issuing forth, curling like hair and like smoke.
I came to where the godfather turned in
The only begotten for sacrifice for gore,
And a son pledge the mother to gain wealth,
A man after gaining illusory riches
Began to pack hyenas into his closest
Boding migrating to extinction,
Gingerly being the same soft vessels
Began to hiss, hound, tearing and calling
Heaven and earth to loose
And pour down venom on likable.
They quests and guests for witchcraft
Taking would be expected thought of foes,
And brought home this deadly talisman
Applied them and used accordingly on intended
The one used must be potent than the one
Already prepared for protection against antagonist
Test negativity means scoffer is given to taste
The prepare soup.
Categories:
boding, mystery
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I
One more my friend, one more
ice cold beer golden filled,
till I alone face my mortal end
and by its treachery killed.
Where haunts a ghost of mine
whom I once much owed...
one more my friend, one more,
just one more for the road
II
One more my friend, one more
boding self-evident truth,
but fear not a day of reckoning
nor an everlasting reproof.
Behold the virgin and the whore,
alas both have sins to bear…
one more my friend, one more
fork in a road to nowhere
III
One more my friend, one more
lost courage for me to find,
to forgive a troubled weary soul
and rest with peace of mind.
Let church bells ring for brides
and infants in holy baptism...
one more my friend, one more
old demon for my exorcism
IV
One more my friend, drink up
and seek a blessing now,
seek a true salvation and pray
that you find it somehow.
And if I pass before my time
among the grateful dead…
drink up old friend, drink up
and live long in my stead!
Written: December 1996
Categories:
boding, friend, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
I miss you, my love; oh, how I miss thee
each moment you are absent from my sight;
for when you are gone, I feel the dark night
pressing round, thick and cold, though my eyes see
the solar sun still shining brilliantly.
The world it shines on with you out of sight--
oh, my beloved-- it is not colored right,
but strangely keyed and void of symmetry.
Make your absence from me brief. Speed your sun!
its warm rays of love and truth and peace
make burn upon my world. Night is undone;
my soul from clutching darkness finds release,
when you its boding powers overcome,
and clothed by your light all black terrors cease.
Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson
Categories:
boding, absence, longing, love, miss
Form:
Sonnet
Impossible mission for yours truly,
sans this dada to validate
those two most significant mentors,
no paternal biased trait,
(who I helped beget) enroute to great
adventures toward enormously
enviously exciting destinations,
thus birth father doth ululate
eternal burning tears boding
indefinite fare thee well,
cuz propensity to
become autonomous innate
within each body electric,
and offload emotional freight
unnervingly, unscrupulously, unwittingly...
within impressionable off
us spring psychs did create,
(especially thine eldest)
perceived intentionally deliberate
indelible, unbearable, undeniable,
unforgettable, unlearnable, unpardonable,
untenably insufferable state
psychological crimes, misdemeanors,
and punishments who bore brunt
regarding mine cratered distrait
parental moon unit gravitational pull
thus itching to break free
and cleared eighteenth circuit atop oblate
spheroid around nearest star
December twenty second, sans
(bench marked circa 1996), her birthdate
I unknowingly long fostered
execrable despicableness and did generate
antipathy, loathsomeness, vileness...
ripe opportunity she hightailed out our
reprehensible company she did hate
despising dirt poor existence portrait-
quick to compare/contrast our pennilessness
with rich Mainliners, where dire strait,
i.e. particularly financial since household
income equaled zilch figuratively
queued, hexed, aligned... with eight
ball, cuz we wanted progeny late
in life, despite afflictions
with mental illness
additionally unkempt, unsightly, untidy,
where chaos and entropy did administrate
residence discouraged "star student,"
nee repulsed offering extending
invites to any chummy classmate,
plus inapropos behavior,
I exhibited oblivious impact
analogous bing saddled to heavyweight
see millstone upon first born psyche
even now, she smolders
thus doth dissociate
with this "sir" and missus,
oh yes...much more aye could narrate!
Categories:
boding, education, environment, father daughter,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
Last year she belonged to you
Giving her all
For you to breakthrough.
Chimes at twelve
Fireworks exploding
Yet no Good-will came from your boding.
She picked up her heart that
Dragged on the floor
Dusted it off
Deciding she was worth more.
Resoluting to be the very best
That only she can,
She stopped her influence
Sobered again.
Then she was free from things
That bound her
Became a fresh experience
Happy, joyous and free!
Categories:
boding, addiction, courage, heartbreak, identity,
Form:
Verse
(cont.)
There grew some unrest, deep in her breast; a boding of dread in old Lou;
Like it happened before; again and again in some deadly déjà vu.
That miner from the creek started to speak, but stopped at sight of that stool;
The player was drinking so he got to thinking – sat down and played like a fool.
His music was of love, rewards up above, a prospector’s life gone too soon;
It came back to her, all in a blur; she stared at him in the dark of the moon.
How quickly time ages poets and sages, how awful she looked in her rouge;
The tune had now changed, and wasn’t it strange how ghosts appeared so huge?
“Now boys,” the miner says, “I’m a stranger in here, and I know you don’t give a fig.”
Then he glared at Dan and made him stand, and said, “It’s all up – this here jig!”
Then the lights went out, and there was a shout and two guns lit up the black;
But when the lights came on, the two men were gone and Lou was dead on her back.
That’s the true story in all of its glory, the boys to this day swear it’s so;
Some folks still choose to think it too much booze, and midnight sun afterglow.
But I saw the most of those double ghosts, yet now those mining days are through—
But they came back, it sure was a fact – to get revenge on a lady known as Lou.
Categories:
boding, cowboy-western, death, lost love,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
the tenth door pulsates
boding well for soul’s ascent
even though we are in surrender
seeking nothing save caress divine
transmuting decaying form made of dust
Categories:
boding, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
In all our days upon the earth
they are clouds all around
some are light but others dark
amidst them there’s hope to be found
These dark one’s can be awful
black and over boding to the soul
your mood seems always cast down
hopelessness fills you as comfort’s stole
Remember to lift your drooping head up
for over your hill lies your eternal hope
there’s a God in heaven waiting patiently
to see you passing down your rope
So this is our God of hope
Jesus who wipes away our cloud
keep your heart embraced in His
eternally secure the Lord has vowed
Categories:
boding, dark, depression, life,
Form:
Rhyme
a crepuscular forest of shadows,
of fierce animal boding -
devout day-mare crossfire
Categories:
boding, angst,
Form:
Kimo
Softened attention, marked by pure intent,
agendaless, yet trying to connect
with music of the spheres, for soul’s ascent,
delights as bliss beats within rise unchecked.
When eye be single, pheromones mingle,
resulting in a thunderous bliss surge
and we feel an ethereal tingle,
as male and female polarities merge.
The path is simple but mind complicates,
conjuring beliefs of heaven and hell
but heart’s innocence always celebrates,
with caress divine boding all is well.
Thought is overrated; shift to the heart,
for that’s where we feel bliss ignition start.
Categories:
boding, joy, spiritual,
Form:
Sonnet
Dear Memories,
You are so precious to me.
Especially the fond delights;
Which keeps my mind afresh of past moments,
To which I make renewed and informed decisions today,
Sustain ancient renowned trends,
And become a better version of myself.
I put you in high esteem,
For there won't be an iota of change if you hadn't existed.
And to the ill-boding and unsuitable ones;
Thanks for growing and exposing me to glare reality.
For you taught me to learn,unlearn and re-learn.
It has been a hell of a ride.
But , ohh ! I've got to admit,
My desired transitions are visible and laudable.
You are the best companion.
Categories:
boding, 12th grade, art, best
Form:
Free verse