Best Center On Poems
On her terrace where she once had viewed a crimson field,
she stands recalling heroes who were battling their foe.
She still can feel the terror! How her poor heart reeled
thinking of her lover fighting on the field below,
with others on that plain bathed red as the sun dipped low.
The brave men lie in caskets which now are concealed
beneath a plain that ran with blood, where bright irises now grow.
She thinks of her own strong brave man, draped in white and sealed
forever in a casket too. He was her Romeo.
The sorrow flooding her she had never thought to know.
She looks down from her terrace with a heart that won’t be healed.
The mighty dead now lie in grassy fields. . . and lo!
Around the graves are swords, which are green blades revealed
with *purple flags that softly wave as a May wind starts to blow
and she is bathed in red again, there in the sun’s last glow.
* Purple flags refer to the name of the purple iris that resembles a flag
Submitted for Mark Toney's '2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 25' Contest
On the day our eyes open to the prism of the sun
On that day, Winter solitude would be gone
The avalanche of differences melts into nothingness
Through the same breath,through the same soul
We would live again as one ,no matter who we are
No matter the colour of our skin,Gay or straight
rich or poor,innocent or once found guilty.
No matter if We are lawyers,prisoners,doctors,drug victims or pheasants
No matter our political believes ,nor our different religions
A catholic,a muslim,a buddhist , a hinduist,or a jew .
On that day,we would all wear identical dresses
We would all be the significant other ,because He has died,
and He has died for all. Jesus died for Peter,John and Judah
for Lazarus and Maria Magdalene, Jesus died for me ,
He has died for you ,for him ,for her,and even for them.
He gave up till the last drop of blood and painful cry
for each and every name engraved upon our Father's palm.
He was born to die,but its not his death that we celebrate ,
We celebrate His life ,because we believe in life
We celebrate His forgivness ,because We experienced
the beauty of forgivness ,the happiness ,the return of blissful joy.
and , We celebrate the ever present love
Because it is the gift of love that He bestowed on us
Jesus was born to die , but He was born to rise
Upon death He has risen , through His death We survived
Because of Him , in the darkness ,in the labyrinth of our night
There will always,always be the little flicker of a candle
that fills our hearts with hope ,and warming light.
On the south-western side of the old mission school,
near the corner of First Street, where blackberries grew
a field claimed by youngsters was crosshatched with tracks.
It was riddled by gophers and, nettled with fox-tails
and the children's bare feet had constructed thin trails,
cupping deep paths that were littered with smiles,
deep in the amber of tall weeds and dry grass.
It wasn't too far from the patched wire fence
that hemmed the backyard of my Grandmother's house.
Westerly whirlwinds would rattle the ragweed,
while seeds of the bull-thorns, that prickled our toes,
would spread with the tumbleweeds, now tossed into rows
like last winter's snowmen, worn to the bone
There were traces of honeysuckle mixed with wild rose
from Grandma's old arbor, that loomed in the distance
A rusty old weather vane like a merry-go round
would spin like a top that might never stop
The ivy was overgrown, and a sleepy old hound
would snooze by the clothesline, in shade he had found
But, deep in the field, was a land of our own
A place we called 'Neverland', a loft in this poem
In the yoke of one tree, with the help of our dad
was a fort built of scrap wood, from piles by the shed.
And by hook or by crook, I would take all commands
While my brother's brewed brainstorms, and his black plastic hook,
assigned him the Captain, while I was the crew
of a ramshackle galleon, brought to life from our books
While I dangled in air, from a tired old swing
"Tinker", my name...in this masculine game..
I would push off, while he pulled me, right up to the sky
and into the branches, with leaves in my eyes......
I would fly to the depth's of a steel gray-blue sky
I would grovel, and shovel, to have his approval........
for he was much older, much wiser than me
I would play like a tomboy,.....shove doll-drums away
Such sweet summer days,......while bright splintered rays
of hot summer sun, would spotlight our play.
We would stay until twilight, to watch the sun die
Defying all gravity.......I could see to eternity
Tootsie Pops clung to the tip of our tongues
while the sun of the twilight, dipped over the dunes
and the call of our mother, slipped over the moon
____________________________________________________________
On summer hills I watched you
I know you watched me too
Every night you waited for me
Every night I came to you
From shallow oceans I have risen
On silver chariots traveled high
Crossed everlasting spaces
which filled your empty sky
Soothing manna showered your lips
from the radiance of my light
Crazy love I poured in your heart
on each lone and serene night
Humble shepherd boy Endymion
You haven't chosen death,nor life
In eternal sleep you've slumbered
and made of me your wife
You must have been a poet
with a will to live our dream
with a want to preserve passion
for the last abiding crescent
of the evanescent moon Selene.
Inspired by the Greek myth of Selene,goddess of the moon and Endymion
and by beautiful poetry.
On the border of the obscure wastelands,
In the depths of shadows and torments,
Far beyond the land of Never Was, Never Will
Is a place where I hold you, strong and silent…
As the shards of your sensitive sadness prevail,
Sifting the awaiting coals below,
I shall reflect slivers of your light upon the darkest woe!
I fight with the broken alliance within the dimmest coves,
I mean to pull you into Death’s demise
Where the pained poets prevail and the suns of justice arise
So that e’en the coldest of coals reach warmth!
Generating power so strong, that the gods step aside
As these diamonds-to-be burst into the light of day
Revealing your words of Always Was… and Always Will
The Black Diamond, once captive…finally free…though coal black still!
For Shadow Hamilton's Contest: Fighting Depression(poems for PD)
12/7/14
On the road to your gypsy soul
in the vastness of my world
chasing heartbeats and fireflies
across wooden covered bridges
navigating deep and arid canyons
beneath a sweltering summer sun.
I'll trace the compass of our destiny
leading me to a foreign land
I'll find you roaming in flowering fields of daisies
where I will finally take your hand
I'll be in awe of your effervescent half-moon
glowing brightly in the night
I'll gaze longingly at your thousand stars
shining downward ever bright
I'll feel the breeze that you feel
blowing softly over the cobalt sea
together we'll be one with nature
setting all our spirits free
Not surrendering to temptation
because you are everything I need
I'll listen to your heart beat
for on your love I soon will feed
on melting snow
first cherry blossom
withers too soon
mum ties pink ribbons
to the white casket
Or
on melting snow
first cherry blossom
withers too soon
mum unties ribbons
from empty cot-bed
Inspired by Chris`tanka contest,not for the contest
On the day our eyes open to the prism of the sun
Winter solitude would be gone.
The avalanche of differences melts into nothingness.
Through the same breath,through the same soul
We would live again as one,no matter who we are
No matter what the colour of our skin,straight or gay
Innocent or once guilty,rich or poor
Lawyers,doctors,prisoners,drug victims or peasants.
No matter what our politcal believes,nor our different religions.
A catholic,a muslim,a buddhist,a hindu or a jew.
On that day we would all wear identical dresses
We would all be the significant other,because He has died
and He has died for all.Jesus died for Peter,John and Judah
For lazarus, and Maria Magdalene.Jesus died for me
He has died for you,for him,for her,and even for them.
He shed his last drop of blood and painful cry
for each and every name engraved upon his father's hand-palm.
He was born to die,but its not death that we celebrate
We celebrate His life,because we believe in life
We celebrate His forgivness,because we experienced
the beauty of forgivness,the serenity,the return of blissful joy.
And we embrace the ever present love
Because it is the gift of love that He bestowed on us.
Jesus was born to die,but He was born to rise
Upon death He Has risen,through His death we survived.
Because of Him in the darkness,along the labyrinth of our night
There will always be the little flicker of a candle
filling our hearts with hope and warming light.
On the twentieth day of May 1930, an angelic soul was born, and the angels danced in Heaven, rejoicing her birth. She possessed a splendorous heart, and her aura shone with loving light. She had many hardships to endure in her youth, but she did so with grace, humility, and dignity, never abandoning her faith. She married a soldier whose heart was full of anger and rage, yet her love was enough for both of them, and she bore him thirteen children, of which I was the third eldest. I grew up with her love and his anger, and it molded me into the man I am today. Some years ago, my mother lay dying in her hospital bed; I gently held her hand and wiped away the tears trickling down my cheeks. Mum was my inspiration, my muse, my friend, my everything. She was kind, generous, patient, and loving, with boundless empathy, compassion, and faith. I couldn't have hoped for a better role model and I loved her dearly. I felt her hand squeeze mine, and then it went limp, and I knew her soul had left her body to join her maker. The angels danced in Heaven that day, welcoming a kindred soul back to God's loving embrace. And though my heart was crushed, I gave her one last kiss and bid her farewell, believing that one day we would meet again, and the angels would dance once more, leading me through Heaven's gate, where she and God would welcome my soul home.
death is no stranger
it needs no invitation...
souls welcome its knock
On a fine April day, set out in the great cruise ship, Titanic,
Into the pelagic waters of Atlantic, with the weather alluringly sweet.
Plush it was with beaming fellow travelers and amenities astounding.
A journey of great excitement under a star-studded sky at night.
With the crew so hospitable, there was overwhelming warmth and conviviality.
Wine and liquor flowed down through gullets; tasty cuisines were served.
On the deck couples and lovers waltzed, a sweet breeze kissing their cheeks.
But tragedy loomed large in the form of an iceberg, unobserved.
I sat away from the crowd enjoying the rising gaiety.
What was the deafening sound I heard from near?
With a violent shake, the huge leviathan turned to one side.
Hardly knew what was happening, but sensed death was not far.
Hit hard n' ripped into two pieces, the vessel began sinking into the waters.
Amid euphonic melody and revelry, some didn’t know what was happening.
Some in panic ran helter skelter with growls and groans renting the air.
A man gave away his lifeboat to a mother and child, his own life abandoning.
It was a moment I witnessed the beauty of selfless love.
I was inspired to give away my lifeboat that I secured by chance.
A divine spark hit me, and all anxieties vanished instantly.
Sudden was the transmutation, I saw the whole scene in a new stance.
Heaven’s fire was lit in my breast and in love, my spirit began to glow,
How great it is to give life to someone who needed it more.
I heard the angel’s voices flit, saw a new door opening wide.
Had a fleeting vision of the heavenly hall with aureate roof and glazed floor.
I knew all my agony depart and hope instantly sparking.
With God on my side, I felt sinking into the icy depth,
My mind was calm with an unusual courage filling my every nerve,
And my horizon growing bigger and enlarging into uncommon width.
My inaudible parting words were “Goodbye Titanic, fare thee well,
In the oceanic depths, you stay as a symbol of world’s fleeting glory,
Making men think that fate can shatter and pulverize human hubris.
In the sunless Atlantic lair, lie down ageless to tell your allegorical story"!
on a ghostly night
princesses and "kiddy" cats -
alongside monsters -
scamper without a care
beneath a Halloween moon
Sept. 25, 2019
for Chantelle Anne Cooke's Halloween Moon Poetry Contest
On this Sunday I serve my Lord
His ways are true
His love is reward
I knew as a boy he saved my soul
gave me life
made me whole
His love is everything
my heart has changed
In him is forgiveness
my future arranged
God's plan was perfect
His Word was sent
to redeem our souls
our death to prevent
our way to heaven
is through his Son,
His blood covers all
and
is
N-E-V-E-R U-N-D-O-N-E.
Written by John Aaron Green
1-8-12
Joan of Arc – For God and Country
On the feast of the Three Kings was born,
a baby girl, in 1412, under the sign of Capricorn.
Destined to accomplish great deeds and achieve fame,
Joan d’Arc was her auspicious name.
A religious and political scapegoat,
her short life to God and country she did devote.
Fervently spurred by heavenly voices,
Joan’s fate was guided by singular choices.
She avidly believed in her mystical visions,
and was obsessed to fulfill her divine mission.
Each night she prayed, “Oh God, save France,”
until at last she was granted the perfect chance.
Leaving her family and the village of Domremy,
she pursued her destiny to defeat France’s enemy.
The “Maid of Orleans” with religious fervor and zeal
took a vow of chastity and her fate was solidly seal.
During the Hundred Years’ War, she took up sword and banner;
mounted on a white horse, arrayed in a white suit of armor.
Leading the French army to a momentous victory,
her rousing battle cry was, “For God and country.”
Abandoned by King Charles the VII and betrayed in the end,
she was burnt at the stake by French collaborators and English men.
Accusing her of witchcraft, heresy, and for dressing like a man,
at age 19, her life was all over according to their devious plan.
But even though her light was snuffed out by hatred and bigotry,
her exemplary courage and strength helped to unify her country.
Joan of Arc, a simple peasant girl, became a woman warrior,
and to the world a symbol of conviction, fortitude, and true valor.
Canonized a saint by Pope Benedict XV 500 years later,
Joan was named Patron Saint of France, rape victims, prisoners, and martyrs.
08-28-2015
Contest: Joan of Arc
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Placement: 2nd
On the wing in the dawning light,
Spring's new growth comes into sight.
Flowers, berries, nuts and seeds,
a smorgasbord to meet my needs.
I am a robin in grey-brown attire,
with my orange-red vest adding some fire.
A harbinger of Spring am I,
give ear to my joyous cry:
Spring! Spring!
Wonderful, marvelous, glorious Spring!
Oh look! A fat juicy worm.
Don't you just love how he wiggles and squirms?
Gulp...down the hatch! Wow! What a treat!
Now to my roost I must retreat.
My mate and I must build a nest,
a comfy home where our young can rest.
Robin means new growth
5/14/15
"Picture yourself as a bird"
On the horizon dawn sits
My knight in shining armour
Waits, gallantly he rides forth
Embraces his bride and kiss
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer, A
Contest: Any poem under five lines
Any form/subject