Best Chastises Poems
If "we" are a sin,
Why is my heart bleeding for you?
Why is my soul screaming out your name?
Chained by the links of horrors that hold me against you,
Towered high up above the ground,
Little did they know I'd crumble every bone just for you.
I would not wish such adversity upon my adversaries, such as the animosity which chastises our hearts.
Every precious petal in my garden has turned black, waiting for your lips to rejuvenate their vibrant hues.
Why must love be cursed by society's blindness,
or has Cupid's ignorance plagued our forbidden fate. Maybe death is the only freedom for our devotion
Categories:
chastises, destiny,
Form:
Free verse
Un-nerved by formal sentencing assemblies,
Marks and Words, bound by conjunctive amenity.
The tried beliefs that short cuts speed words into action.
Made stuffy Old School feel out of fashion.
Punctuation board-slams her silver gavel;
“A shortened distance, yet far to travel.”
Marks are pushed into line to enter their plea.
Dash Dash Dash has trailing thoughts…
Comment remarks that it thinks too much.
Question Mark, curiously rotund and stout,
asks “What’s this meeting all about?”.
Proud Period, acquainted with the strident rituals of formality,
Quickly departs, leaving a daunting spot of terse finality.
Comma’s game of pause and snag,
grammatically adheres to one of tag.
Overwrought Exclamation Mark, nervously blurts:
“Unruly disorder can make matters worse!”.
Semi colon maintaining proper pauses,
Stays anchored between compelling clauses.
Colon fearful of growling barks,
snuggles closer to Quotation Marks.
Apostrophe’s like for word possession,
worries over changing word obsession
Oh, Oh! Oh? Oh…
These are shameful attempts to monopolize,
Even with trite words, of unassuming size.
.
Punctuation thinks her identity’s impaired
Might she be confused with the shrew, Grammar?
She calls to order a capitol thought.
sliding up to Exclamation Mark, shouts “’STOP!’
The object of this meeting,
Is not subject to self- beating.
No presence is here to criticize, or chastises,
nor harmonize.
If getting through is what stays true.
Will be understood by some , but always to you.”.
Categories:
chastises, identity,
Form:
Free verse
The clock chastises me,
as painted petals bloom brilliance
in illuminated wonder that attempts
escape from the hidden crevices
deep within my beleaguered mind.
The beauty I seek is but an allusive dream,
flowing rags of worthless chattel
that fill me with words, heavy, like stone,
my rhymes but pointless emotional prattle.
Yet, still my need must pursue that dream
to create another verse so sublime as to define
me as me in a world filled with poetic doppelgangers
and, so, I write just one more sad, lonely line.
"Extant nectared incense she lit, burning inside, slow but alone,
Arrogant me, let her leave, as here I sit, awaiting the unknown."
Clever, perhaps, but are my words,
like the melancholy song of the lonely Lune,
beautiful?
Geez, or should I say jeez, no Cuneiform here,
shall I try once more...
"crystalline sparkles
achromatic winter jewels
spring paints with colors"
...to bring out in me that which,
through these many years of seeing
my world ravaged with emotional upheaval,
still, in its turn, allowing me to experience
love and enchantment from eyes
that held me in the warmest embrace.
"I see the storm as rage engulfs those lovely eyes,
the blue intrepid sea of passion's lost release.
Inside, the tears of torment flow to sooth the lies,
yet, pain remains in every moment's wish for peace.
As burning anger seethes inside of you
the path it seeks obscures your point of view,
and leaves the ragged scars of bitter love
left blurred like mist in sodden clouds above.
Emotional, these moments steal your gentle heart
and eat in to the darkened void that once was you,
but misplaced hate can not keep you and I apart,
when, with my shroud of love, your heart I will eschew.
I hope you'll see just how I feel for you,
for you are why I do these things I do."
Crap!
Total
crap I read!
and I chuckle
as I re-read it.
In a single sonnet,
iambic hexameter
and iambic pentameter,
the Bard must be turning in his grave;
I guess I'll have to try another day.
08/15/2018
Categories:
chastises, how i feel, humor,
Form:
I am the environmentalist in love with wine,
my shoulders carry and reside in the cutting edge side of life,
the establishment craves to be the human race
while I stroll the memories of “Sailor fields”
amongst ancient Jurassic stone.
Is this! The only way for me?
My saline tears run freely now a days,
it’s time that governs one’s sentiment,
no doubt the plague of waiting relates to this.
What! Of the future,
hey , i want to forget about futuristic wars,
may be the media are in gross error of judgment?
I’m told I’m only a little man, at last now I know why I’m the
one that society chastises every day,
Why this mortal flame in constant combat becomes
life’s tomb stone around my neck.
To feel freedom, another swig so my lacklustre eyes again become stimulated
as the view overcomes my immobility and bids farewell, to the great lady
that glides portly on the outgoing tide.
Curse this elemental wind
that curls in from the east,
“Mother” i cry
“Is this the clarity of our beginning.” the start of all this crap,
as astringent thoughts flow through my urban bucolic mind,
seeing or feeling nothing of the moment, only a repeat of the actions of many insensitive men,
those that flourish, those that sentiment cannot stain those that walk tallest amongst men;
because they were hungry for appurtenance.
I remember well , in the far off lea of my mind,
down on the farm thousands of miles away across the Pacific,
where enamel clashed against concrete
there , where foolhardy dreams were dashed,.
when the heart pursued
the warm flesh , she that gave her
reflection to the swan song
of an innocence.
Alas should one be compelled to expire
as one would, a chardonnay basking in the hot sunshine?
Should one fall foul of a politically correct society
that , outside of one’s comfort zone,
because one feels , want , in choleric veins?
Even the sullen white cross, dotted upon the highways
become burning embers, a constant reminiscence,
an emotional monument to many inhibited memories.
Yet I beg this deportment shows me a realization,
that death is imminent,
so why this perpetual waiting, this constant urge,
for this vein dependency to be infringed upon ???
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Categories:
chastises, angst, drug,
Form:
Free verse
Trump Shields The US From Becoming A Carcass Full With Ants
Trumps draws a line in the sand
He's shaken all the trees in the land
Call him whatever, okay an ass
Yet keep in mind his motto USA first
From the civil war to now
No other's brought out the plow
Like how Trump has outlined in his model
In stomping his foot down full throttle
In Trump's twelve days in office
He's raining on the bureaucratic chorus
Telling big business to fear
Of outsourcing jobs from here
He's taken on the pharmaceutical giants
To lower their prices, and be more compliant
He set a visa moratorium on 7 Muslim countries
Prompting protester's chastises, so bluntly
He's opened dialogue for domestic oil exploration
Setting the country's future more self reliant of oil importation
He's befriended the Brits, and hired a cabinet of friends
Some of which are the richest, so one hopes it pays dividends
To this he silences his, what, ... critics?
By calling them, okay, ... idiots !
Trump's IQ some say it's one of the tops
One hope pressure doesn't make it pop
Trump also seen as grandstanding his wall
For the Mexican President to take the fall
Yet he may be right on all of this
For it's a lot of walkovers from the border
That's soaking up the jobs, social and welfare
Taking up space for the ones already here
Trump may be xenophobic and not a tulip or rose
But he can't be accused of tiptoeing in
He needed to stem the colony of ants
Instead of letting them bred and expanse
connie pachecho
2/1/17
Categories:
chastises, perspective, political,
Form:
Rhyme
One September morn, Barry is born, one day a little man that society will chastises every day, poisoned with dour memories of a life passing, staggers habitually along life’s broad way, yet still, he believes an ardent player of this earthly cast.
the mould human kind
every one naked the same
circumstance fate plays
One September morn Larry is born not a volunteer, into this place, no developing embryo given a democratic choice, but oh the joy the accolades, freedom of youth rampart significant, carte blanche credit card.
silver spoon protrudes
freewheeling society
so much to tire of
An unknown purpose aided each step, for Barry with holdall and worldly baggage around his neck, whilst trying to escape societies goals and social orders, life’s hypocrisy filed against this frail oppressed old man, living with a menial existence inside prejudiced borders.
daunting are the nights
beneath a blanket of fog
soul destroying dawns
Here Larry the mellow fellow who toast, boast every night drunk with his host, cocaine his specialty, whilst trying to escape societies goals and social orders, now his empire has closed the high life exposed a hobo a bench a lamppost his only light.
Barry and Larry
mix for the first time at the...
crematorium.
Entered 2022 Poetry marathon Mile 20
sponsor Mark Toney 12/11/2022
written 2021
Categories:
chastises, identity, life,
Form:
Haibun
Son laughs flat out at his father’s humour
Mama chastises them both
Proud papa takes his bows
Categories:
chastises, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Kimo
In the quiet solitude of evening I come before The Lord.
In the secrecy of my chambers I seek His presence.
It is here that I kneel before my Master and bare my soul.
Tough I fail Him time and again He will receive me.
Though I disappoint Him He will not reject me.
Though He chastises me He will not cast me out.
He will lift me up from the mire and set my feet upon firm ground.
He will wash away my sin and clothe me in a robe of righteousness.
With His right hand He reaches out to me.
With His left hand He holds my enemies at bay.
With His right hand He provides all that I need.
With His left hand He shelters me from the elements.
All this He promises me for He is a loving Father,
And I am His Child.
Categories:
chastises, faith,
Form:
Prose
In the boxed gilded frame exists the residue of
A painter’s vision, of his nightmare placed upon
Canvas.
Locked within the cells of four square,
Lies a view into the ethereal world beyond our
Conscious mind.
A heckling demon does laugh, as she the white
Gowned maiden of innocence lies slain, as her bloods
Warmth slips silently away, and life's flash memory,
Closes around her for the last time.
Hear the thundering sounding. From the heavy laden hooves,
As hell's white steed, claims the vanquished heart of
The innocent, and riding unto the gates of black ebony,
He does so bare a rare prize, the soul of purist beauty.
Oh so do the angels cry in heaven, weeping in tandem's chorus.
For death's fallen will know the torments hidden in
The mighty halls of hell's keep, for dark has over come
The light, and at its flickering the last hope of mankind,
Has become one of the shunned.
Seductions father of evil, takes the white hands of
The maiden of innocence, for one last waltz, as life leaves
Her damaged shell, behind a phantom spirit of betrayal,
Is left at the threshold of the forgotten, and salvation's door
Slams shut unto her; she is suicide's victim of the broken
Hearted, never to know the taste of Eden, or to see the glory
Of Gods kingdom beyond.
Nipping beneath the ladies gown of white, the demon
Chastises her, belittling a life so sacrificed for what
He does so scold; it is a minor thing, this emotion called love.
Tears fall, be you so quiet, demon, I've suffered enough, but he
Is the hell's jackal, and is her greatest tormentor.
Awaken painter, she pleads from the ethereal realm,
In sweats uneasy slumber, but the artist shields his eyes to late,
And he has seen too much, for a mortal to so easily forget.
Upon the canvas is a dreams vision,
And trapped within, is she the soul of innocence,
Forever encased within this prison, a
Painter's revelation, called the portrait of a
Nightmare.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
chastises, halloween, history, holiday, horror,
Form:
Free verse
I trust God* Who secures my salvation!
He guards my soul by His might’s protection…
He warms me in His fellowship’s embrace!
Without Him, I can’t run the divine race!!!
I esteem God Who seals my victory!
He arms my faith to spread Gospel story…
He communes with me and answers my plight…
Without Him, I can’t pray in sweet delight!!!
I thank God Who blesses my faithfulness!
He chastises my pride and selfishness
He rewards me by His work-assessment…
Without Him, I can’t face discouragement!!!
I love God Who revives my spirit daily!
Without Him, I can’t live marvelously!
*Psalm 73:28 But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works.
July 6, 2018
6th Place, "Your Best Sonnet 2018" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton; judged on 7/8/2018.
Categories:
chastises, blessing, faith, god, gospel,
Form:
Sonnet
Hi there all my friends
Memories
Watching serenely as they both traipse thru'
Knowing how life without them would just never do,
Cautiously I assess their haphazard games
Mentally capturing memories 'tween frames,
Recalling their births which seem like yesterday
I grow forlorn for many long lost a day,
With each passing moment my adoration grows tenfold
As I grasp in wonderment at my progeny like gold,
I hope and I pray my that health endures
To proudly watch as my son matures,
And to witness my daughter as she chastises her own
for attempting the very things that cause her to now moan,
How I applaud my mum for all she has done
I thank her for each and every one
The warnings, the laughter, and yes . . .even the tears
Through all the memory filled days, months and years
Just a note to say that my poem memories has won the overall Family Day section.
There were 10 winners throughout South Africa, one winner per category.
My profile and poem recitation can be viewed at www.lentswe.org . I am ecstatic. If you have
the time . . . Please be patient as the poetry cafe video loads, it takes upto 100 seconds
Thank You for your support!!
Categories:
chastises, dedication
Form:
Free verse
My ladylike mother, raising a blue-jeans daughter
No dresses for my back-to-school shopping-
After school shortcut with Amy, my friend
Grassy flowered path, trees and birds
For my autumn birthday, I give myself
the new Black Stallion book from the library
So eager to take it home, fall into the pages
Still, at the final bell, I wait for Amy
Best friends are supposed to wait...
But minutes lag as the yard empties
I am alone, as I leave
Our shortcut is deserted, silent
The birds do not sing today
A footstep crunches behind, then
A stranger, tall to my short self
His junior high days long over,
With a sour smell, a greasy smile
Immobilized, I feel my pulse beat
In my throat, clutching my Black Stallion book
"Hey, what's your name, baby?," he slurs
With drunken breath and crawling eyes,
Then his arm slides around my
almost-fourteen-year old waist, and his foul stink
Whispers in my ear, "Oh baby, what a body"
I don't think, don't plan
I just run
But he is there, pushing me down as his hands
grope my almost-fourteen-year-old breasts
From somewhere deep rises rage-
HIT HIM! HIT HIM! in giant flashing red letters
My fists, smashing into his arm, my voice, unlocked,
"Go away, GO!"
And he does suddenly go; my saving grace,
Being unladylike-
When I make it home, on shaking legs, my mother
scolds me for the tears in the knees of my new bluejeans
Which cost so much money! I say nothing
And my Black Stallion book is gone.
The next day, from school, I take the long way
The concrete streets of populated protection
I can't tell Amy why I won't take our shortcut
I can't tell even my own mother
So she finds other friends to walk home with
When the book comes overdue, the librarian chastises me
For my lack of caregiving and responsibility
I swallow salty-hot tears, and borrow money
To pay the fine, for I can not return
what is lost.
9/23/18
Categories:
chastises, loss, pain, teenage,
Form:
Free verse
the light had twisted
a duress that was looming
high tide in the sea
typhoon chastises
jade water over the bow
jaded on the bridge
thunderstorms floating
level of brightness in spots
out of the azure
after ships are docked
when you foretaste a rainbow
the sunlight advent
Written: April 19, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Categories:
chastises, analogy, angst, appreciation, beauty,
Form:
Haiku
*Image of God Smiles by Pixabay.
The Table is Yours
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
determined to make the best of my fill,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.
So slight I take, before greed rob sizes,
breeds avarice, made by my tales, instill
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
I treat my table for none, chastises,
scorn bugs cheer, I use, superior skill,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.
My views are all mine, other surmises,
Live whole, die happy, and I am uphill,
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
I chose my independence; it rises,
some ills my mood, nothing changes, free will,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.
My metaphors used spell true life guises,
My mountain I fit into a molehill,
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.
2022 August 03
Categories:
chastises, character, extended metaphor, happiness,
Form:
Villanelle
I fear everything
and everyone I love,
will fade in the beat of my heart.
False perception
Calls forth sorrow.
All of my deception,
Fall out before tomorrow.
Divine love withers
To the saint of my heart.
Cold skin shimmers,
To the faint of this depart.
My soul will never hold
This gracious lullaby.
For it chastises its gold
Of a star fae, left to die.
Categories:
chastises, beautiful, depression, desire, emotions,
Form:
Lyric