Best Borderland Poems
She flickers in the borderland
In the mirror and the marsh
Sparkling like the morning dew
On a grateful corpse
In the bog her murmuring
The echo of a cry
Travels on the plaintive wind
Like a phantom sigh
The merest of a semblance
Shadowed by the moon
In the murk appears to flirt
Behind the sinking dunes
Like an orphan of the sea
Or a widow of the sands
She shrivels in the noon day sun
Glimmering in strands
Written by © Raven Drake
Categories:
borderland, beauty, earth, longing,
Form:
Prose Poetry
~ keep your mind awake ~ and in constant wonder ~
quote by poet
On diamond evenings
between the white wings of the moon
and billions of galaxies and stars
Hold on to your dreams without a filter
a journey into another dimension
with a vessel that sails on the moonbeams
against different numerical values and levels
The enigmatic and unexplained
the borderland - between an outer and an inner reality
The trip is magnificent and beautiful
As elevation in the human endeavour
of the weight attached to the shoulder buttons
An experiential in a special class
The adventure ends in an exciting way -
Arm wrestle with the Nemean Lion
which is the last star image in the east
***
16.04.2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- 'U' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1st place in the contest
Categories:
borderland, beauty, fantasy, journey, universe,
Form:
Free verse
As the great man's note rightly says it
Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong
The weak can never indulge in it
For, they are the ones to see always the world as wrong
Yes, forgiveness implies that someone did someone wrong
Someone did hurt someone else
Someone did put on the dirty song
Or someone did become an adverse
Why, to be able to forgive, one needs to understand life
Human nature rather, for being attracted always to making more than one gaffe
It is in our nature to think only of our ego
While basking others in unwanted sorrow
Say, have you never ever erred
Have you, from the right path, never strayed
Have you not caused pain
Have you not raised up your nose in unwanted disdain
Pray, think of the wife of the unfaithful husband
The one who forgot where are the limits of his borderland
The one who did hurt
By showing his love as being in distort
Think of the child, capricious and selfish
Always does he care only to have his share of the dish
Never does he wonder about his parents
Whether or not, he does push them into torments
Think of the one who is so hurt that he has no other option
None other than causing around him, great destruction
Destruction like death
Destruction like loss of faith
Well, of all these, if one does repent
I believe towards forgiveness he is bent
Of all these, I believe that forgiveness is a merciful blessing
One that does lead to a higher awakening
I shall forgive indeed
I shall forgive, for such does be my creed
I shall forgive,
Pray, come, love to the world, I am ready to give!
Categories:
borderland, forgiveness,
Form:
Quatern
Attorney General William
Barr black marker in hand
kept promise to censor vital
details of Mueller Report
swift as Usain Bolt candidly,
grandly, lustrously, roundly
youthfully blocked out more
rapid than an elegant eland
vibrantly, regally, magically,
and gracefully skirts borderland
which favored topography
constitutes grassland or woodland,
far more pleasing to observe,
than reading adulterated brand
of aforementioned compilation,
distillation, edification, fortification
zeroing questionable activity
upon head of trumpeting brigand,
whose arrivistic, bombastic, caustic,
demonic, electric broadband
outsize ego still convinces
me, thee commander in chief
delegated one or more chargehand
perhaps while delighting as
gourmand savoring chateaubriand,
where his best buddies imagined
themselves in seventh heaven cloudland
every so often taking siesta sans repast
or golfing with grisly handicapped clubhand
non verbally communicating,
in viz sub bully taking a peas zing
cues from presidential high command,
which coterie (i.e. den of thieves)
manipulated social media with nefarious,
insidious, deleterious, et cetera
analogous to "FAKE" contraband,
maybe even milking innocent cowhand
unwittingly planting GMO electronic
bugs amidst future bovine fodder cropland
to allow, enable, and jackknife demand
that moost every eligible voter tricked
induced by virtual reality dreamland
with sinister motive for thee "Apprentice"
rule his kingdom, and expand,
realm asper Medieval days
declaring himself chieftain of fatherland
and/ or North American motherland
where naysayers guillotined
by uncontested firebrand,
who without provocation
very likely bomb into Stone Age
formerly edenic, lush, verdant
geography into flatland
rendered hostile, poisonous and uninhabitable
nonetheless radiating for miles with gangland
forced labor tilling barren, desolate, fissured
landscape erecting unsightly grand
standing room only (cause he know Shylock)
terrain (reign) vast highland
manor as poobah, and husband
to his only heiress, the former
a kooky monster from foggy bottom marshland.
Categories:
borderland, anger, animal, freedom, humorous,
Form:
Political Verse
come, aaro, to where
mist (hangs) between
ancient
t
r
e
e
s
& light filters through
verdant
canopies
i will show you the
borderland (between light
& shadow) where silence
grows
w
i
l
d
in these
quiet
places
we learn to
h
e
a
r
our true names
called by the
e
a
r
t
h
the forest
remembers (what we
have forgotten)
how to breathe, how to
l
i
s
t
e
n
& how to be
unafraid of the
d
a
r
k
aaro, i will bring you
to these sacred
spaces
so your roots may
g
r
o
w
deep
so you may
learn (early) what took
years to discover:
we are not
s
e
p
a
r
a
t
e
from this wild beauty,
we are
born
of
it
Categories:
borderland, baby, celebration, creation, dark,
Form:
Free verse
Out here in the outpost
I guard the borderland
“Over and out” – I lose the call
And you are out again
This is my shout out
From the hinterland
“Roger, Roger” at my post
But you are – out – again
You do not deem to call
While my receiver’s on
I fiddle with the dial
But – static – is the tongue
Cold the rime upon the pane
That crackles to the sound
Of Solitaire I muster out
– And the hand that I put down
Is a winner, at its best
– It seems the Ace is high –
– And here my friendly guest
Just winks an evil eye –
The creaking of my little hut
Is charged with energy
Buffeted by winds about
– thou art mine enemy! –
Cold the outer fathoms
And in the frozen stasis
White is in the noise
And silence in the spaces
The dark outside is deep
Did I just hear a knock?
– it’s just the knock, knock
Knocking of my beating heart
– Cornered as a winter mouse
Frightened from its nest
I startle to the voice I hear
And flee my inner guest
Categories:
borderland, loneliness, silence, wind, winter,
Form:
Rhyme
They suddenly barged in their tanks and trucks
Covered in various armaments of war.
Their vehicles droned, piercing the silence,
Cutting deep wounds in that fertile land,
And desecrating the once sacred ground.
Rockets flew like meteors across the skies;
Bullets sprayed from the barrels of the guns.
Some found their mark, but some strayed from their path,
Leveling all that within their reach stood
While fire, smoke, and dust turned day into night.
The cries of the wounded were all but drowned
By mortars and missiles that hissed above,
Spitting out deadly incendiaries,
Causing grand monuments to come tumbling down
And the once fruitful fields to vomit ash.
Scarcely had the blood of the slain been dried,
More bodies fell to fertilize the soil;
Some were washed, dressed, and decently buried,
But some were left to rot in shallow graves--
Unknown, unclaimed, and, oh, unmourned.
Innocent souls were expelled from their homes--
Only sanctuaries they had ever known.
Clutching the remnants of their former lives,
Forced to be crammed in dingy undergrounds,
They lived each day in constant fear of death.
Oh, how ghastly the scene that war had wrought!
How heartless must be he who does not weep
To witness such bloodshed and suffering
Of a people who just want to make a stand
And live safe and free in their borderland*!
*The name “Ukraine” likely comes from an old Slavic term for “borderland.”
March 23, 2023
Categories:
borderland, 10th grade, death, grief,
Form:
Free verse
deep in the trenches
a forest of cardboard trees
and stained glass windows
twiddling pieces through fingers
sizing up like private eye
a piece here…and there
like a long drawn out story
finally middle latched shut
and made the sign of the cross
now I aim for the quadrants
Categories:
borderland, angst, imagery,
Form:
Tanka
Borderland of friendly people,
new land vast to cross,
inviting with its beauty -
enticing.
Visited by Pilgrims -
persecuted men
of new religions
in their countries of origin.
They bonded with indigenous people,
who helped them to survive
and to cross frontier
between two oceans.
Categories:
borderland, political,
Form:
Verse
They come close to my backyard.
This is their frontier,
a borderland one windowpane thick.
Inside my room, my soul
like a deflated blimp, is wedged
between one ear and the wild beyond.
Sound carries visions at night, details shine.
It’s like you can see, only it’s their
eyes projecting on yours.
When alien cultures meet in the in-between,
they camp at a distance from each other.
They sing, do their daily dance,
they do it close enough for all to see.
The deathless humor of survival
is a ritual.
The little owls said all this to the dark,
and my ears flew about the bedroom
squeaking like pinging wagon wheels.
Categories:
borderland, poetry,
Form:
Blank verse
They come close to my backyard.
This is their frontier,
a borderland one windowpane thick.
Inside my room, my weakly ticking brain
like a deflated blimp, is wedged
between one ear and the wild beyond.
Sound carries visions at night, details shine.
It’s like you can see, only it’s their
eyes projecting on yours.
When alien cultures meet in the in-between,
they camp at a distance from each other.
They sing, do their daily dance,
they do it close enough for all to see.
The deathless humor of survival
is a ritual.
The hoot owls said all this to the dark,
while my ears scanned an inner wilderness
squeaking like wagon wheels.
Categories:
borderland, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Harpsichord in heaven?
Cubic or spherical?
Bread, O baker? Leaven.
Just flicker as you fall...
Dancing lights apace in space?
Watch them in her face.
Ghost, vanish without a trace!
Gold, case, carapace!
Desert floor in winter?
No more than one inch, snow.
Shredder, got a splinter?
Tormented, O my foe.
Panels, dance about the night!
Sparks in porcelain!
Falcon, gather wind in flight!
How we'll meet again...
Yellow eyed priest, bid the feast!
Shepherd, are ye fleeced?
Squire, page, are the wheels a-greased?
Only if they're pieced.
Connect, O my fibers!
Build high the city walls!
If they're born to jibe, sirs;
They're bound for taking falls.
Tyrant of the borderland?
Show them how we stand!
Crush them in thy hardest hand!
Order countermand!
Silence in the place of whole?
Remotely control.
Ye gods, what is mortal soul?
Golden light a-bowl.
Categories:
borderland, judgement,
Form:
Rhyme
I stand between worlds, neither here nor there,
Feet planted in Eritrea, yet Arabic fills the air.
My father’s tongue, Tigre, I do not know,
Nor the Tigrinya of my ancestors, lost in echoes low.
My mother, born in Saudi’s golden sand,
Half Eritrean, half Yemeni, yet she never took Arab’s hand.
She speaks of home, but in which land?
Eritrea’s shores or Yemen’s stand?
My father’s roots near Sudan’s embrace,
A borderland life, a shifting space.
Yet I, their child, feel misplaced,
A name, a bloodline, a culture erased.
I yearn for the rhythm of my grandmother’s speech,
But her words are distant, just out of reach.
When they speak in their tongue, I strain to hear,
Yet Arabic flows from me, strong and clear.
They ask me, Where are you from?—I hesitate,
A heart split in two, a soul lost in fate.
I search for excuses, a tribe, a name,
But the language I carry is not the same.
Eritrean blood, but where is my song?
A culture I cherish but don’t quite belong.
Raised in a tongue that isn’t mine,
Yet it shaped my thoughts, my every line.
I long to speak without a divide,
To greet my roots with arms open wide.
To understand my parents’ past,
Before the years drift by too fast.
But am I less because I was taught another way?
Is identity language, or more, they say?
For though my words may twist and turn,
The fire of my heritage will always burn.
Categories:
borderland, africa, arabic, feelings, identity,
Form:
Free verse
My village around the borderland, estranged
Mountain from the other side, rejoiced within gray shaded area to bloom
Echoed the echo of the midnight hymn, darkened a shade, deeper fill in xanthosis, lasted beyond the yonder valley o'er the meadow, fall color blossomed then.
Echoed a sound lasted, I heard, an echoed a sound lasted
Eavesdrop and a try , as I meant for that
Beyond the sensible perception, to understand
Opening the eyes, I try to see
A failure to gaze to perceive a gaze
Closing my eyes , I am a fanciful thought
O intellect , I failed to perceive that
I am a failure to a thousand mountaineer causes , caused
A failure to climb those events larger than a life, presented
Echoed the echo of the midnight hymn, darkened a shade, deeper fill in xanthosis, lasted beyond the yonder valley o'er the meadow, fall color blossomed then.
Echoed a sound lasted, I heard, an echoed a sound lasted.
Based on a song from subcontinental vibe
Categories:
borderland, bangla, boy,
Form:
Free verse