Best Captors Poems
Haiti, the home of voodoo practices
Seventeenth Century Spain cedes to France
Catholic Spaniards trembled when they saw
“Dead” men revived to wander in trances
A vile poison can make men appear dead
Revival requires an antidote
But perhaps there is more to zombie lore
An explanation to why these souls woke
Brutally treated slaves worked sugar fields
Captives from Africa known as “Maroons”
As French aristocrats sat and grew fat
Blacks sweated for “sweets” in the tropic sun
Buried guilt deep at night still festers
For conscience is God’s gift to each man
Some may suppress it for just a short time
‘Til magical night envelopes the land
Spirits of those who were taken in chains
Are given by God a chance to rebel
Stalking the living in deathly pallor
Haunting their captors with visions of hell
“Zombifications,” Maroons erected
Spreading the horrors of slavery with anger
Showing the French what their evil produced
And putting their sanity in danger
So please put the voodoo dolls back on shelves
The needle-sharp pricks of remorse can sting
Enslaved Maroons prevail in heaven’s court
Our Creator’s eyes aren’t missing a thing
Magic, black or white, God sees no color
Love is bestowed on men of all races
And those who question the Lord’s intentions
Should look in the eyes of living-dead faces
Categories:
captors, history, socialgod, men, night,
Form:
Quatrain
A sword of the heavens did glean
From railings and arbors
of dead thorn and bramble,
where ghostly reminders remain
Fall droplets of blood ‘pon
a crimson embroider
left carelessly out in the rain
Our story begins
in a deep mountain valley,
a village so peaceful and free
When one day the darkness
did unsheathe its horror
with metal and death you will see
The army of Satan,
a wicked battalion,
Hell’s fire their sabers were forged
Dark Skeletal visions
in leather and armor
the depths of the earth had been gorged
With razor sharp weapons,
they slashed and delivered
such pain which had never been found
Through echoes of pleading
and lives quickly ending
in puddles, thick red on the ground
While women and children
were herded like cattle
in mass to the edge of the square
With onyx eyes leering,
midst snickers and cackles,
their captors insanely did stare
When on the horizon
a light brightly shining,
engulfing this nightmarish scene
A porcelain stallion,
its rider a shadow,
a sword of the heavens did glean
From steel hard as granite,
angelic depictions,
a handle of pure solid gold
Once heard in a fable,
when wizards were roaming
such power, the stories foretold
As swift as an arrow
he entered the village,
his steed all at one with the game
With blade silver glistened,
like lightning bolts flashing,
igniting a righteous born flame
Spinning and thrusting
as if a tornado,
a blur now incensed of the glow
With whirlwind fury
and dust clouded thunder,
he dealt them a terrible blow
The evil fueled army,
beheaded and fallen,
the villagers shouted and cheered
When to their amazement,
this heroic savior
as quick as he’d come, disappeared
So there is the story,
a sword made in heaven
is now part of history’s reign
Along with the rider
who wielded its honor,
and hopes he will come back again
9/13/18
Written for the UNSHEATH YOUR SWORD Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
Categories:
captors, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Locked in her tower our heroine sleeps alone
This beautiful flower has been kidnapped from her throne
She stares at the moonlight then drifts off to sleep
To dream of a brave knight scaling the castles keep.
Her flaxen hair frames her delicate ivory skin
Vivid dreams of her hero reveal her beauty within
Steadfast and strong and ready to fight to the death
To rescue this beauty he will forgo his last breath.
Her chivalrous knight enters the abductors domain
Soon she'll taste the sweetness of freedom again.
His shield raised high and broadsword drawn
With every step he takes, for her hope is reborn
Caught off guard with a blow he is swept of his feet
He fights blindly on until his quest is complete
To vanquish the captors is his goal and last wish
Sweep the princess off her feet with a tender kiss
He slashes the ropes that bind her to the bed
Making passionate love for hours now they are happily wed
19th May 2014
Written By Jan Allison & Darren Watson
~submitted to Dave Wood's Imagination Contest~
Awarded 1st place - am so delighted to have won this with Darren he
is my inspiration
Categories:
captors, fantasy, immigration,
Form:
Narrative
Current Events
Frozen pants dance stiffly
to the mad beat of sapless
drumsticks choreographed
by a wicked whimsy of the
winds baton. Birds cling
tightly knowing that if the
gale subsides for but a moment
they will fall over, be blown
like feathered fur balls on
lone unchartered trips. Cats
hiss in meek response to
whistling whine of wind’s
failed grasping at the trees.
Children pick up speed as
parents chase them through
the cyclones of debris
quick swept by nature’s
crazed custodian. Hats,
hang glide in mocking
merriment above the tousled
heads of their former captors.
Skirts balloon Monroe like,
fashion’s flair taking on airs.
Trash can covers play Frisbee,
as barrels beat steel drum staccato.
This wind, this rush of Winter
clearing the table, cleansing its palate,
preparing us for the next course.
John G. Lawless
1/25/2014
Categories:
captors, bullying, winter,
Form:
Blank verse
Time travel has always fascinated man
Could UFOs be steered by human hands
Consider this premise before you say no
So called “grays” resemble human embryos
Evolution proceeds, gene pool depleted
Mind power expanded but bodies weakened
Future man looks back in a quest to erase
Effects of the technology we embrace
With smog blocking sun’s rays, skin has turned gray
Bodies thin as meat exits the food parade
Reproduction is challenged by low-grade genes
Sad Earthlings search the past and like what they see
Tan, healthy bodies adorned by hairy manes
Fertile women who suckle innocent babes
Men of great strength who clear forests with axes
Strong immune systems when a virus attacks
In sore need of genetic material
Large-brained grays devise a means for time travel
Abductees are beamed to aircraft by bright rays
Frightened while forced to donate their sperm and eggs
Time travelers say nothing, perhaps ashamed
To be stealing from ancestors in this way
Capacity for learning greatly enhanced
But the grays know nothing of sex or romance
When farmers find signs of mutilated cattle
Such evidence should not provoke a call to battle
If future man’s life is genetically revived
Meat may be required to keep humans alive
Don’t hide in terror when you see colored lights
Spinning in circles on chilly autumn nights
Close encounters, but abductees’ lives are spared
Returned to their homes by captors who care
Consider the fate of new generations
If you’re called upon to make a “donation”
Experiments grays perform may seem absurd
But they may be trying to save our own world
Categories:
captors, science, visionaryautumn, may,
Form:
Quatrain
I have never been to Calvary Nor trod Jerusalem’s path
I did not suffer the crown of thorns nor felt the Roman’s wrath
I did not see Judas’ kiss as he betrayed our Lord
Nor Peter’s thrice denial of the Master he adored
I never felt the weight of the Cross nor heard the jeers of the crowd
I never flinched when He passed by
His body bloodied but unbowed.
His hands and feet were pierced with nails but I was not there to see
The agony He suffered as He lay dying on the tree
But although I was not there to help Him on his way
I cling to the last words He uttered on that day
For He forgave his captors...forgave us sinners too
There is no greater love than this...
He gave his life for you!
Copyright2002 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
For Brian's Aspect of Love Contest
Categories:
captors, faithlove,
Form:
Rhyme
I can bear it no longer, I turn off the TV.
Must we be subjected to such agony?
I search in the garden for the peace that I had,
Before being informed that the world had gone mad.
Even here in my refuge, the horror remains.
It has spread from the city to mountains and plains.
I can't stay away, I turn back to the news.
We'll not be defeated, we've too much to lose.
Our leaders are speaking to put us at ease.
"We're not swept off our feet, only brought to our knees."
I am told of the good folks who work without rest.
Tragedy unites them, they're giving their best.
Policemen and firemen gave their own lives.
To help the trapped victims. Heroism survives.
It seems the brave passengers on the doomed plane,
Fought with their captors, the evil insane.
The target untouched, our first victory.
They died with the demons, but helped keep us free.
Tears roll down my cheeks, but my heart fills with pride
For those searching the ruins and those who have died.
Gone our small differences, we are all one,
Determined to finish the task we've begun.
It was not of our making, but we'll answer the call.
The tables will turn, we will run with the ball.
We who live in a free world will never give in
And those who would bind us shall die for their sin.
When our nation calls us, we'll march to the beat
Of a drum that proclaims we'll not bow to defeat.
With right on our side, all attackers beware
We will find you and track you right into your lair.
Won 3rd place
Categories:
captors, recovery from...world,
Form:
Narrative
I saw a light shining down on me
Thought it was the end of time.
And I just couldn’t let it
I turned to face the bringer
But he just walked away
Maybe now I can live to fight another day.
Wax and feathers won’t stand the test of time
Falling like a stone only to be shot out again
If you can’t stand your captors, then don’t do the crime
I can’t walk away this time
In silence here I stand alone
Climbing the walls is the only thing we can do.
Then darkness fell all around the town
I heard the sound of heartbeats all at once
Screams rang out long into the night
Voices rising and falling
Now after all, it could all end here
Then I heard nothing but the sound of silence.
All of a sudden a light began to appear
A million eyes all opening at once
It was nothing like anything I had seen before
But there was hesitation and apprehension
It all seemed to land on one man’s decision
I want to believe, I want to smile
And then the doors open and I see a new Eden.
Categories:
captors, death, faith, fantasy, imagination,
Form:
Gravity conquers desire
It devours and absorbs all
In the black colorless heaviness of the inevitable
It is the ballast of conflict, fear and hate
Its weight takes everything in the fall
Hope, faith and joy all fail in its evolution
Before the powerless sovereign gate
Closed and locked
Imprisoning the spirit to degenerate
From the freedom to unfold
The Karmic soul's fate
This breed of men and thought
In the times of now and not
Is the reason for wars and discontent
The wrought iron passage to nothingness
To free the change
To light the way and eliminate
This dark and human less place
Gravity it seems to me
Is not what it means to be
It simply holds the universal place
When it comes to setting us free
We are the Captors and Creators
That harbor its departure to be so
Free
Categories:
captors, analogy, anxiety, fate, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
Let the interrogation begin the Walnut King said.
I woke up tied to a steak. It was raw and rancid.
Slimy on the surface, and I was also.
What did I do? I asked.
SILENCE! The Walnut King yelled.
Someone played taps on a bugle.
I sensed things were not going well for me.
I struggled to loosen my ropes.
They fell off easily, apparently my captors were not wise.
OFF WITH HER BED! The Walnut King roared.
A bunch of acorn soldiers came rushing toward me.
They were short, so I leapt over them easily and ran for my life.
When I turned to look they were getting rid of my meat bed.
I guess the Walnut King knew just enough English to not be too dangerous….
Categories:
captors, fairy, fantasy,
Form:
Prose Poetry
There was a man with integrity that nobody can impugn.
The man who I'm speaking of was Daniel Boone.
This man was truly a great pioneer.
He lived a long life, nearly 86 years.
People are amazed by the incredible feats that he did.
In 1756, he married Rebecca Bryan and had ten kids.
As a young man, he served with the British military during the French and Indian war.
In July of 1776, he rescued his daughter and two other girls from Indian captors.
Sadly, the Shawnees shot and killed his brother Ned.
They thought they shot Daniel and that he was dead.
Boone was elected to the Virginia Legislature in 1781.
During an Indian attack, he lost another brother and Israel, his son.
He founded the town of Boonesborough in Kentucky.
When it came to having this frontiersman, we were lucky.
Boone went on to live until 1820.
People owed this true hero plenty.
Categories:
captors, history, brother, brother, integrity,
Form:
Rhyme
Jeremiah Clay
1831 – 1897
To my friends in the faith:
In life, I often observed the ants.
Great profound lessons can be learned
Within the microcosm
Of their silent movements
And relentless deliberations.
I have seen the sanguinary Argentines
Invade the nests of the weaker ones
Have watched them trespass and kidnap and enslave
The lowly ones,
The vulnerable ones,
The perceived inferior ones.
I have witnessed the regal queen
Taken and murdered by her captors.
I have been appalled and dumbfounded
By their muted acts of savagery and cruelty.
And I have been utterly devastated
By the enforced bondage of the black ones,
The nether ones,
The rejected ones.
Great God in heaven!
Where be thy justice?
Great Jehovah, my Lord!
Let the last now,
Be the first!
Categories:
captors, slavery,
Form:
Epitaph
In the moments of missing time, I’m unable to
Clearly define what is real, fact or fictions of illusion,
Bright, bright is the light of delusions, but I know
One thing I’ve been touch by the other side
Of realities unknown!
Sheer is the curtain between space, and times
Universal continuum, a fine thin veil pulled backwards
By unworldly hands, investigating chattering’s voices
Which Echo within my head, probing mine own version
Of sanities awkward view of life, and deaths
Context of truth!
Burning embers of reddened eyes, sizzle into my
Skeletal perception of panic, fear, this is a nightmare,
From which I cannot awaken from, me the abductionary
Victim, sitting on the stone cold table of realism,
Unable to move, and muted unable to scream!
Side to side, my captors do so move, whispering
In a language unknown to me, their prisoner,
What do they want from me, their caged
Animal, an earthling of mortal flesh, their
Creature held, an entrapment’s futuristic web!
Locked down are my wrists of humanity,
Unable to struggle free, a passive resistor,
Controled by these little green man tormentors.
As if these thoughts are read by them,
One turns and looks at me, a mental whispering
Do I so hear, me the abducted, be still now,
We mean thee no harm, just curious!
Almost tenderly does he whisper within my mind,
As I fell within a deep, deep sleep, suddenly I am
The dreamer awoken, drenched in sweat, shaking
Unto my own inner core, what time is it, what day
Is this, was it real or just a bad dream?
My clock radio, says only a moment has passed,
But I know something has happened,
I’m not just having a bad dream!
So I shake my wife lying next to me,
Obviously spooked beyond belief,
She says, I’ve had a similar dream?
In the moments of missing time, I’m unable to
Clearly define what is real, fact or fiction of illusion,
Bright, bright is the light of delusions, but I know
One thing I’ve been touch by the other side
Of realities unknown!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
captors, adventure, halloween, history, holiday,
Form:
Free verse
He hated his posting here;
Rome had sent him here as punishment;
He was sure of that;
These people were a stubborn lot;
He hated them most of all;
Then he met the prisoner.
He was supposed to be some kind of king.
Pilate had interviewed this man;
Now the other guards were mocking him;
They fashioned a crown of thorns for His head;
They forced it upon him;
Blood came pouring down;
Yet the king didn't utter a sound.
The guards stripped the king;
They placed on him a purple robe;
The mockery was intense;
Yet this king was different in some way;
He didn't utter a sound.
Then they began to beat the king;
The centurion simply watched;
This was no ordinary man;
The man simply offered them his back;
Then the centurion heard the man pray;
The man was forgiving his captors!
Pilate had ordered the man to be crucified;
So they led the figure out;
He was now beaten and battered;
Could He even carry the cross;
The centurion wished it was all over;
This prisoner didn't deserve any of this.
The centurion made another man carry the cross;
Soon they topped the hill;
Here they stripped the prisoner;
They laid Him on the cross;
As they drove the nails;
The centurion heard Him pray;
He was forgiving them for killing Him!
The centurion had heard of this prisoner;
He now remembered Him well;
The prisoner claimed to be the Son of God;
He had performed many miracles;
The centurion wished to see one now;
He wished the man would come down from the cross!
The sky around them began to darken;
The centurion watched the man on the cross;
The man looked at the centurion;
"I love you and forgive you", written in His eyes;
The centurion's heart was breaking inside;
The man on the cross breathed His last.
The earth rattled as an earthquake struck;
Tombs opened and dead men walked;
The centurion was oblivious to it all;
He seen only the dead man on the cross;
His knew now within his heart;
He had crucified the Son of God.
Categories:
captors, christian, easter, god, religion,
Form:
Epic
Merlin was born by sorcery.
A demon father, incubus.
Virginal mother, royalty.
Great wizard of King Arthur's court.
Of legends, deeds and chivalry.
That fabled castle Camelot.
He prophesied, waved magic spells.
Bade Viviane of Avalon,
Enchantress Lady of the Lake,
To forge a royal magic sword.
Excalibur she set in stone.
Merlin besotted and beguiled
Reveals; his secrets for her love,
Black magic art, dark sorcery.
Which wantonly would seal his fate.
Arthur's crowned King, he drew the sword.
Excalibur it blinds the foe.
King Arthur's scars in victory,
By magic scabbard, they don't bleed.
Merlin rewards his Viviane
To cross the sea to Avalon.
A magic castle on her lake,
Whoever passed, they could not see
He built for her by sorcery.
She spurned his love, insanity.
Merlin's a Druid going mad.
Hallucination, lunacy.
Now wild man of the apple woods
In Avalon, misunderstood.
Craving his freedom, prophesied,
Three times how would a young boy die.
He saw him falling from a rock.
Then secondly, hung from a tree.
And finally he would be drowned.
His captors laughed, how could this be,
A prophecy turned into three.
One day the boy walked by a stream.
He tripped and fell from off a rock
His leg entrapped by roots of tree,
Hanging, he drowned in waters deep.
Merlin's predictions, set him free.
But Viviane now cast a spell.
Entombing Merlin in a stone.
That temptress Lady of the Lake.
Categories:
captors, mythology,
Form:
Verse