Best Buckling Poems


Grief

This solemn shore of atrophy called grief,
would sail on, sail on from this moor of thief -
while yesterday I smiled, and did achieve
today am stricken to a nodding leave!

This buckling of intent, I do perceive
is more than time can counter or receive
do take more time with me and yet proceed
to bolster me - my actions so recede!

What fondness should attain in this bereave,
it is a mocking sign, its own conceive
is born anew, with someone's silenced knave
and never felt so sharply, now its slave!

has manifested to a halting save -
and captured those surrounding . . . . . true love's grave!
Categories: buckling, loss, me, time,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Every Remaining Last God

Covered by cloud the out-of-sight tops of soaring towers,
Buckling under their own weight, beginning to topple from 
Those airy heights;
The gaping breach - the once impregnable outer wall!
The inner keep ablaze with greedy, insatiable flame;  
A thunderous cacophony of crashing cymbals and blaring 
Horns;
Wide-eyed lurching panic desperately grasping at the fleeting 
Moment...
And the whole World immersed into madness. 

Hauled above the line of the high-water mark 
The bleached, gnarly boards of the depleted Longships; 
And when hurriedly stripped bare of brine-drenched hempen 
Rope and torn white sail.
The golden sands burning with all the brilliant radiance of a 
Million candle lights;
And below a shattered sky...an enormous, disintergrating Sun 
Collapsing into a hissing sea!

And now you come to tell me that Agamemnon is dead.
Dead? Is that how you say it: "Great Agamemnon is...dead."

So..all is done then. But is one death nearly enough for the 
Cruel and needless sacrifice of gentle Iphigenia?

Every remaining last God to be brought to this place...
Summoned together, here, today; and this in itself...
A dreadful thing.

For never can such be given up to us again.
Categories: buckling, mythology,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Kissing For the Killing of Can'T -

Destinies departing from one another
like memories falling asleep as new experience births the extremes of Eternity,
striding past ourselves with fingers extended wildly
trying terribly to grab hold of knuckles with certainty buckling
as disbelief transforms into the unloving knowledge of impossibility,

in a recess of rules we defy the momentum of the Game's gravity
praying not with confusion in our eyes but for pardon of our happy prank,
we have laughter within the drums of our souls,

placing my thumb onto the corner of her mouth
getting closer to her voice,
kissing my Spartan girl
as though she were a secret sunset balancing just for me,
not knowing if I'll ever have another,
kissing just for the sake of kissing her,
kissing for the hatred of heartache, for the heroics of Hope,
kissing while betraying Time's insults of hurriedness -

J.A.B.
Categories: buckling, angel,
Form: Romanticism

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Never Giving Up (Revised)

(Verse 1)
There’s an aching in my back
An my knees are buckling in
My body’s hurt n bruised
friends r’ say ‘n take a step back ‘n relax

(Bridge)
got so much on my mind  
faster and faster I here myself say
I cant give up when I’m half way through
pure determination drives me hard and true

(Hook)
Never giving up
I can see it now the sun is shine ‘n on me
Never giving up
I’m almost there the inspiration I need

(Verse 2
The devil can try to slow me down
Putting all those boundaries road blocks round
But without a flinch in my face
I’ll jump up move and around 
 
(Bridge)
My destiny is calling to me 
Got lots to accomplish no time to tire
There’s a sunrise coming up in my face
My dreams are right there I’m following through

(Hook x 2) 
Never giving up
been a long time but the sun is shine ‘n on me
Never giving up
I never looked back now I see inspiration in front of me
© Ron Flatow  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: buckling, hope, inspirational, life, song-visionary,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Feral Hearts

Whereas hearts are led by loving's blindness
and feral moans drift idly on the wind
rendering those stricken deaf and mindless
their voyage - sweet beginning of no end

Full sails, distant horizons, cresting seas
winds rippling the canvas short of gale
a shiver of timbers - buckling of knees
a crumbling of vows they wouldn't let fail

Yet hearts encompass a passion - a will
to scream at the night - to curse their own tears
to challenge the wind until it goes still
to cherish the mast - to conquer love's fears

The taming of the feral heart must be
to love and in the loving set it free


10/4/2020

Love Sonnet Poetry Contest
Categories: buckling, love, metaphor,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Magic of Christmas Morning

Welcoming Christmas, with the birth of Christ as family gather round the Christmas tree. 
                     Quote by_ poet

As they slept, winter welcome Christmas night.
The moon upon a clear fixed starry night
used its immutable alluring charm.
The icy winds howled pilling up snow drifts.

The morning warm sun rose to a sparkling
crystalline rug of snow and trees buckling.
Gray smoke rose from the fire in the fireplace
drifting into the air from chimney top.

You never outgrow the need to get up early
on Christmas morning, a favorite part 
with family round the tree and children's
faces glowing as they open their gifts.

11/28/2022

Writing Challenge - Write A Christmas Poem - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: buckling, family,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Music In the Rain

I walked by the old cafe on Rue De Sienne and heard an angel playing harp 
a cherub an ethereal mome bewitching me and playing softly with my heart 
she wore a halo made of gold, a soul that laddered up beyond the tarp  
and as the fluent clouds rain-teared upon her alabaster tunic.... Art !  

Each star a studded light inside her angel eyes of blue.  Each  note   
commemorating, unfastening, abducting, a copious symphony of one 
The buckling breeze became her muse I, a kite released in far remote      
a Mystic with no malice in sight stringing up the moon and jealous sun.  

June 20, 2018
Categories: buckling, angel, mystery,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Unconscious Bias

I forgive the stars sleeping in nothingness,
             too afraid to embrace eclipsed spheres….. 

In the midst of sweltering gloaming,  
I ascend, obscured and tarnished,  
like a tainted trinket lost  
in the tangerine haze.  
For I’ve long been burning  
from the coals of stigma~
stamping labels upon troubled torrents,  
using malignant metals,  
mirroring the fear within lichen eyes,  
consumed by ancient  
arrows of anguish~
from the era of Hercules and Midas.  
But if only they knew, there is  
no remedy for the jaded jewels that  
refuse to sparkle, 
for my purity remains unseen in  
growing darkness,  
oblivious to the liquid gold  
that flickers compassion,  
as they see not 
beyond their fractured vision.

O distorted colors of the sun,  
I’m not your perplexed perspective;  
I breathe in hues of humanity,  
infused with luminous lavender.  
I’m not a Medusa siren luring you  
to serpentine rocks;  
I swim in chromatic, evanescent streams,  
brimming with blissful bioluminescence,  
illuminating my way under the midnight sky.

I’m not the suffocating wintry winds  
freezing oxygen in your lungs.  
While it seems your tongue is silenced 
and tied to the twisted strings  
of broken instruments, 
I ink words of hope and
empathy upon your cynical skin.

I am more than the blind rage  
seeping in fury.  
I’m not a heartless harpy  
screeching into the emptiness~
drenched in despair,  
pushing boundaries to  
the ends of the earth.  
I am Atlas holding the world on  
his shoulders,  
I am the glistening stars aching  
to touch the silver ring around  
the jasmine moon.

But life is like a helix fixated  
on unconscious bias,  
constantly critical of diverse dialects,  
watching me struggle to stand  
under the weight of pressure,  
knees buckling as your assumptions  
lacerate me, breaking me down,  
burying me in your ruthless riddles.

I feel rumbling dirt beneath  
my bleeding feet.  
My sarcophagus is rising,  
built from your putrid ideals of me.  
Losing footing, I refuse to fall into  
the seething seas of sorrow.

So remember, I was never  
the soulless monster hiding  
beneath your ignorant bed.  
But I am now the skeletons  
etched within the cataclysmic  
aftermath of your 
shallow misconceptions.
Categories: buckling, anxiety, mental illness,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Door To Confusion

I drove for many miles,
each one filled with apprehension
Memories can be cruel an unwavering,
when filled with sadness
Going home can bring them back

The house now empty,
for years I'm told
I remember the last time I saw it
as I heard its door shut
a day filled with confusion

It rained the day I returned
The oak tree where my swing hung
was rotted now
dead pieces laying on the ground
Once it was regal and strong
and held the dreams of youth
on two ropes and a board

I stood before the crumbling stone walkway
leading to the house and remembered,
days of play outside, nights of fireflies
the sad melody of parents fighting
and the lonely boy who clung to his imagination
where he could feel happy and free

The stones now covered in weeds
were once the road to his kingdom
and the house a cave of darkness
where escape was a daily purpose

The porch now buckling with several planks missing
once a deck on a ship at sea
overlooking a sea of grass
Many worlds were created to escape
the crows that landed, the storms that raged
and there,
The door, that led to both universes
now hanging on one hinge,
dangling with the wind and its rusty noise
asking me to open it and step inside
I reached out to move it, then stopped
remembering my world of happiness
was on the outside of this door

I turned and walked away
back into the rain
As I passed the broken tree
I noticed one grave, where my swing use to be
before the state came and took me away

3/23/17
contest Doors
Categories: buckling, child, conflict,
Form: Free verse

The Knock

I sit hearing the knock
The door standing shut and seeing no light
Me refusing to break the lock
Man sitting and stewing in the night.

Jesus waiting beyond the door
His voice calling out to me
Stones beating in my chest
Jesus is winning you see..

I crack the door at his knock
The stones crumbling to sand
Light is flooding my house
Man praying as he planned.

Jesus standing inside the door
My knees buckling to the floor.
Categories: buckling, faith,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Pirate's Cove (Anaphora)

I like sailing on the high seas over crystal blue waters
I like seeing the waves rising and feeling the splash
I like sights of jolly pirates swinging across the decks
I like sounds of parrots whispering beautiful words
I like scenic episodes that are challenging to the soul
I like seasonal ventures deep into the mystery of love
I like serious drama of swash buckling and bottled rum
I like shabby old treasure chests of gold and rubies
I like silence when the sea is calm and all is at rest
I like starting it again, splashing high sea adventures
I like sailing on the high seas over crystal blue waters!



Comments:    Anaphora is the repetition of at the same word (or group of words) 
at the beginning of successive phrases, clauses, sentences, or lines.  This 
anaphora poem is all about the pirates experiencing a high sea adventure.
Categories: buckling, adventure, history, imagination, life,
Form: Free verse

Np Dinging Seatbelt

What is it about seatbelts,
That cowboys find so bad,
And the worst offender of them all,
Would have to be my dad;

He leaves his belt unbuckled,
And it makes an awful ding,
What is so dang hard about,
Buckling the up the thing;

It dings and dings the whole dang drive, 
Music can’t drown it out,
If you’ve heard that annoying buzz,
You’ll know what I’m talking about;

All it takes is a second, 
Just buckle it and it’s through,
So pray that horrible annoyance,
Never happens to you!
Categories: buckling, angst, funny, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme

Puissant Kinematics

Each limb plays to the dynamics of motion
in static vibration the virgin flower
awaits cravings within the tattoo touches
and surrenders to her animal instincts.

Wild fingers douse her with raptures of pain
tricking off curves with  aspiring  lines
provoking flood gates to drip with quivers 
as the lycan-beast over power's her whim.

Together they are flamed with insane desire
bursting,  buckling with energy and passion 
toasted with love enjoys her total submission 
reaching out for the skies in her moans and cries.

Within the split second her potentials change
for she bursts to burn to the fluid kinetics:
© Jai Garg  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: buckling, passion,
Form: Free verse

We Will Stand Together

We will stand together what a wonderful vocation, 
despite the wars and conflicts in many of our nations. 
We will stand together in these our days of need, 
despite a world filled with power, envy, lust and greed. 

We will stand together no matter what the cost, 
the battle's now beginning the victory's far from lost. 
We will stand together defending all that's right, 
not buckling from the pressures or being put to flight. 

We will stand together and that is our decree, 
despite our being barraged by endless bigotry. 
We will stand together, hear our mighty battlecry; 
Victory for Jesus Christ and that is not a lie!
Categories: buckling, devotion, people, uplifting, together,
Form: Verse

Premium Member And Then I Opened That Door

There’s no fighting the thick black wet, misty fog unwilling to be unfold
Winding path full of fearsome obstacles blocking and taking a stranglehold
Silhouettes of skeletal tree branches and roots reaching out to impose and take hold

Ever so slowly lifting my numb bare feet
With every footstep sinking into the wet sticky pitch black tar 

A spell that needs to dispel this illusion

Am I making the right choice
 In reaching for the door?

I feel a sense of freedom
If I open the door

Heart pounding against my chest
Soaking wet with sweat
Uncontrollable shaking
Legs buckling 

Placing my fingers around the doorknob 
Slowly turning
 
The door flies open

Blinding illuminating light
Brilliant rainbow colors
Clear blue sky
Smell of the ocean breeze

Drawing a deep breath with a sigh of relief

Bad dream

© 6/19/2015
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: buckling, dream,
Form: Free verse
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