Best Chalice Poems
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I drink from the chalice
in light of the day,
a goblet of crystal
on endless display
Where amethyst rainbows
sing songs in the sand
and sunflower fragrances
walk hand in hand
When happiness touches
each mountain I climb
of heart beat concertos
in three quarter time
As clouded sky warriors
reach for the prize,
then fall to their knees
as the sun starts to rise
I savor the tea leaves
in herbal delight,
in hopes that the wrongs
now become every right
To take in the distance
that I’ve come to know,
if only a dream
where my heart tends to go
I follow the pathway
of lavender rose,
where love is the garden
that forever grows
My thirst now does find
on this journey anew,
my chalice in light of the day
it is you
~
Hands of jagged cliffs
Reach to cup clear mountain wine
Earthly communion
for Raul's contest - Rhythm of the Falls
Oh, drink from the chalice of night.
It is here, my dear, only for you.
Come to me on this starry night
if romance you choose to pursue.
Imbibe, if you will, the sweetest wine.
Oh, drink from the chalice of night.
Come savor these soft lips of mine.
Be drunken with me on delight.
Beneath the moon so full and bright -
like this goblet glistening gold -
oh, drink from the chalice of night.
Your body I’m longing to hold.
Come rock with me, darling, till dawn.
We’ll be soaring to passion’s height,
so until the last drop is gone,
oh, drink from the chalice of night.
Jan. 23, 2022
N/A in The Chalice Of Night Poetry Contest
for Sotto Poet's Your Second Chance 1St Poetry Contest
On that summer’s day when we first meet and kissed,
I knew you Madelaine as one I could adore.
Against your family’s wishes, I still persisted
in wooing you; we’d wed or I’d be your paramour.
The levant winds blew through Spain’s hills unfettered
bringing death to suitors far and wide from above.
We had cause to feel our choice had made us debtors,
leaving our love a littered path, a ball-fisted glove.
Like Romeo I’d leave, not die, but without a trace
for I’d not hurt you more and death would be too much.
I’d give you time to heal your sorrows to embrace,
to come to terms with the rightness of our chaste touch.
In a far off land, I recall your devotion;
your lamented father’s wish for a princely dower,
but all have died who wished our love to be undone.
Soon, I’ll claim my Lady from her empty tower.
Fate gifted us passion, drinking from its chalice.
We waded through flaming waves of rising ardor,
in your summer home, your primrose covered palace.
The memories of your touch make absence harder.
As I looked across the wind-blown spray of ocean,
my mind turned to the sadness of our parting hours
Kneeling, I begged for a distance closing potion
so I could reclaim you to our rosy bower.
I see your longing, desperate, lovely, face
endowed in fears dire depth as we parted from the clutch.
I reminded you distance could not erase love’s trace
or lesson my need to feel your soft, gentle touch.
Last week, I sent a love-soaked, tear-stained letter;
now I return aboard a ship to my sweet dove.
I hope my missive sent has made you feel better,
nevermore will I be denied the touch of my love.
By Robert Lindley and Deborah Guzzi
Open lotuses of purple and indigo hues
casting spells beneath lawny skies of midnight blue
each brilliant star more sparkly then the next by heaven's roam;
Like shooting fireflies and minuets of silent reveries,
the neon fairies claim the quiet waters of the Thame,
as lilies glide inside slow gentle rain ....
Opuses of art in natures private Cul de sac
water vessel of grace, incumbent chalice of the night
undulating sinuously towards the evening light
none can duplicate the beauty of, your even flow;
Who knows who knows which way the gale winds blow
but this I know,... no never have I seen
such incandescent fiery light, cleaving at the cusp of night.
January 20, 2022
Sponsor Chantelle Anne Cooke
Contest Name The Chalice of Night
Bespangled
she sashays up the shore
from a sequin gowned sea
wearing the undulating waves
of aquamarine and ambrosial sheen
adorned with shimmering and shivering seeds of excitement
A thousand beaded fingertips
trace her coral curves
whispering sweet nothings
in the luscious language of brine and blue
drizzling down
her sea-salted soul-case
teasing and tempting
her cooled honeyed patina
to passionately impearled pertness
Enraptured as he is
enticed by her dreamscape
the yearning senescent sands sigh~
longing for relics of rose-water regrets.
Susan Ashley
February 8, 2017
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: #400
Sponsor: Brian Strand
In shiny armor knights of old,
Only quests for the brave and bold,
Famed Holy Grail chalice to hold.
But my heavy chalice isn’t gold,
Mine is night black and filled with cold,
About death is my story told,
A memory covered in mold.
Not expected plain death, you see,
When older age exacts a fee,
Known illness, not surprisingly.
That night was never planned, by me.
Unexpected, this was to be
Black night, black car, walking was she,
Killing her, instantaneously.
Still awake with thoughts of the dead,
My black cup overfilled with dread,
Remembering every word she said
Since shining day when we were wed.
Quest for peace now my daily bread,
Weariness drops my heavy head,
My chalice of the night, from A to Zed.
January 24, 2022
Contest: The Chalice of Night
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
.
Silver Chalice of Hope
Once chased that Silver Chalice with abandon and glee
life as yet unlived and fate yet to test,
the bounty , purity and sweetness from my living tree
days turned to years as Chalice was laid to rest
Joys, births , deaths and sorrows all cut deeply into me
Silver Chalice desperately sought yet never found,
journeying ever forward with this trust my sacred key
Silver Chalice or not , this soul still Paradise bound!
Robert L. 05-20-2014
One MYSTERIOUS Chalice
I cannot name what nature hides from sight,
Yet hold its vastness in a shard of light.
The stars pour laws into a mortal cup,
The sea bends depth till thirst is filled, not up.
A bird’s brief hue outspans the thinking eye,
An insect burns what years cannot deny.
Thus all we know is less than what appears—
The MYSTERIOUS fits whole inside our fears.
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Contest: SOME KIND OF MYSTERY
Date: 9 February 2026
On a mountain top,
In a distant land,
Lived a fierce dragon
With talons sharper
Than the great butcher’s knife
And a breath
Hotter than a million suns.
His sole purpose for being
Was to protect a chalice.
This chalice was no ordinary goblet,
It was cast in gold
And encrusted with diamonds,
Emeralds, rubies and pearls,
But what it was made of
Paled in comparison
With what it held within.
Legend has it
That within the chalice
Was an elixir of courage.
An endless supply of
Pure Courage,
But no one had ever
Ventured to the mountain top
To sip from said chalice.
In a village
Not too far from the mountain
Lived the son of a farmer
Named Leonid.
Leonid had one desire,
A burning desire
To become a warrior,
To become a great warrior,
To fight for his village,
To protect his home.
Unfortunately,
Leonid did not believe
He possessed the courage
To make his dream a reality,
But while as the local market
He overheard some talking
About the chalice
Guarded by a dragon
On a nearby mountain.
The answer to a problem
That had been plaguing him.
When Leonid came of age,
He packed a few belongings
And started his journey
To becoming a warrior.
He made his way
To the mountain top,
To the chalice.
It was a journey
That took five days,
Leonid rested only when he need to
And drank and ate
What the earth provided.
The water from springs,
The berries and fruits form trees,
The meat from animals he caught.
Every now and then,
He would come upon a village,
And he would stop for ale
And conversation.
When people heard
Where Leonid was headed,
They would try to discourage him,
Telling him stories of
How fierce the dragon was.
Leonid would patiently listen,
But when he left the village,
He went in the direction
Of the mountain top.
His ascent of the mountain
Started on the fourth day.
This, surely, was the hardest part
Of the journey.
At some points the only way up
Was to scale a wall of rock
With barely a foot hold.
Lesser men would have given up,
Leonid would have given up,
But his desired pushed him on,
And within two days,
Leonid reached the top.
After resting for a few hours,
Leonid walked to the dragon’s cave.
He was rested and prepared
To confront the dragon
And claim the Chalice of Courage.
She visits in the darkness of the night:
a soulless, winged creature of vampire lore.
A shadowless shadow shunning the light,
softly scratches upon my bedroom door.
With my heart pounding, I open the door;
rapturously under her ghoulish trance.
And the moment we kiss, I crave much more,
as we swirl in the throes of our blood dance.
And waltzing to the very edge of time,
each vampiric kiss: begins with a bite.
Slightly nervous, my anxieties climb:
drinking deep from the chalice of the night.
And as befitting creatures of the night;
our silhouettes morph into bats in flight.
Time can be defined as the experience of events between birth and death, and our
lives, I think, are defined by the association of friends and family who shared those
events. The quantity of events which are shared with them builds and defines the
depth of our mutual relationships and strengthens that mutual bond.
As the bond strengthens with each passing event, characteristics such as trust, respect and admiration are created and incubated in the blending of those traits. We come to expect and take for granted that sharing ... and enjoy it to its fullest.
Then ... after years and years, the bond is broken by the Call to the Other Side.
The void that Calling leaves is an open, searing wound. We tell ourselves that the
individual called is in a better place. We tell ourselves that whatever degree of stress
they felt is: no more. And ... those things are true. However, large, entire sections of our lives feel as though they've been involuntarily ripped from our being. Future
enjoyments of their camaraderie will never be constructed. The pain created within
ourselves at their loss, is selfish because we've become so accustomed to the joys
created by the sharing with them of each of our lives that we fell we "owned" it - but we didn't ... we only shared it, and now we feel betrayed by its absence.
In the final tally, the things which can never be eradicated from our minds are the
mutually created images of those events which helped define the lives we lived - and
shared - with those who assisted in its' construction.
Remaining are the memories as our personal chalice which contains every conscious
happening of our lifetimes, along with those who shared it - and our minds will sip of its' contents whenever reverie, and thoughts of them, demands.
The Broken Chalice
It was way too early for me to move in,
But love conquers all, or so Ovid says,
But nothing could prepare me for the javelin.
At first it was an electric lusty heaven,
We were so in love our words could not convey
The danger that was hiding there like a javelin.
Loving she was, and so very feminine,
But every day she dragged me to AA,
She could be sharp, like the head of a javelin.
Soon I knew what fear was, and the anger therein,
She simply could not trust me, even though I prayed
And assured her I was faithful, she raised the javelin.
Nothing was enough for her, her demands had no end,
I was heading into madness, for a Dies Irae,
And on a fateful day, I ran into the javelin.
And after all the surgery, paranoia set in,
She destroyed our trust, both night and day,
I wept and wept, the tears falling from my chin,
It was not enough for her to delay the javelin.
Saša Milivojev - A CHALICE OF GORE
Silence bites
Below school's stairs
Trickling tears of fervent gore
From thy brethren's veins
Their cups to the rim they pour
All is shattered in the blast
Heavens echoing with silence
Dracula is licking his lips
Threading fingers through their tears
Pouring for his laughing friends
Ask why, if you dare,
on your blood they're feasting
you may lose your ears
the screwdriver your skull may be piercing
Chainsaw by the school
Truckloads of dead bodies
Buckets of ice of kidneys galore
Bloody lakes bear witness
Yet the World 's watching
Mercilessly
My torn heart
Still is beating
While a crow my heart is eating!
In that chalice of gore
Flows all evil of the world
In it glisten child's eyes innocent
Shattered by the blitz
Voiceless stone
Sing of malice
Of the stake
Of the rope
Never will it pass
Our torment's toll
Rivers of blood will forever flow.
Saša Milivojev
Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
visit: www.sasamilivojev.com
“You walked many miles,
Climbed this mountain
To confront me,
A dragon with the reputation
Of being fierce!
All to possess a so called
Chalice of Courge.
By doing all that you have done
You proved that you already possess
The courage you seek.”
The dragon smiled once more
As he saw understanding
Washed over Leonid’s face,
But soon followed sadness
And disappointment.
“Do not ever regret this journey.
This journey was not to acquire a chalice,
This journey was to unblock
The spring of courage
That resides in you,”
Said the dragon.
“This spring will never grow dry
Unlike this chalice.
This spring is natural
And there will never be any side effects,
And one day, this spring
Will become a strong river.”
These words made Leonid stand a bit taller.
As it had turned dark,
The dragon allowed Leonid
To stay the night
As the journey down
Would be dangerous in the dark.
The dragon and the young man
Talked most of the night
And it was quite late
When they both fell asleep.
The next day,
After they said their good byes,
And as Leonid was about to leave the cave,
He turned back to the dragon.
“Dragon, even though
I could not drink from the chalice,
May I, at least, see in it?”
Asked Leonid, timidly.
Understanding how curiosity
Can gnaw at a person’s soul,
The dragon tipped the chalice
Low enough for Leonid to see in it.
The Chalice of Courage
Was empty.
“Sometimes, we need something
To aim for,
For us to take the journey
We need to take,
Even if that something
Is nothing at all,”
The dragon said.
Leonid nodded and left the cave.
He made his way down
The mountain safely
And when asked,
He said he had drunk
From the Chalice of Courage.
Leonid had gone on
To becoming a great warrior,
And only to those closest to him,
He would tell the true story
Of The Chalice of Courage.