Best Command Poems
Rhyming Doubles On My Muse's Stern Command
He who Lives, to green woods explore
and bathe in glowing moonlit streams
shall find his Love, begging for more
than pale ghosts in late midnight dreams!
She who his hot passion bestirs
in its fires, warms her eager heart
asks not for gold, diamonds or furs
instead, he a sweeter path chart!
He that her hand truly adores
in her light and grace, truly shine
oft wades along paradise shores
where sincere poets oft opine!
She that in his stead, falls to pray
accepts life's wrath and its dread
as for his sins she must then pay
sorrows born, when to death he fled!
He who lives, to green woods explore
and bathe in glowing moonlit streams
shall find his love, begging for more
than pale ghosts in late midnight dreams!
Robert J. Lindley, 11/21/2019
Rhyming doubles, on my muse's stern command
~~ ~~ ~~
I Then In Silver Silence Fell
My muse cried in my night dream,
to you, I gift a lyric sweet
so your honor you may redeem
and thus your hide, I will not beat!
I wept, you are oft my sad woe
in humble pride, I write my tales
caring not which way each spell flows
thus with freedom, my true ship sails.
My muse, to this cry was bemused
but with anger great, she then rose
tis' I that you truly abused
after I your worthless hide chose!
I then in silver silence fell
and in my morrows, saw so true
I had her under my dark spell
and thus my freedom could renew!
My muse cried in my night dream,
to you, I gift a lyric sweet
so your honor you may redeem
and thus your hide, I will not beat!
Robert J. Lindley, 11/21/2019
Rhyming doubles, on my muse's stern command..
Note:
Sometimes you just gotta cut loose and let the
captive rhymes dance and outward flow....
as in verses from a past youth's meandering
and lighthearted compositions....
As in the in the dark abyss of *Dark verse* one can not be embrace its blackness for too long.
(Spock)
Captain, sensors indicate a power surge
Resonating through their ship's body
I'm sure I don't have to remind you
They have their own Scotty
(the questioning me)
But where has faith brought us?
As I look around I see
A species not asking any questions
About the infinite possibilities
(the faith-based me)
But that's why it's called faith
Trusting in what you cannot see
All things can be yours
If you will just........ believe....
(the questioning me)
I hear what you're saying
Catchy slogans always dazzle me
But once people think they're right
Then there's only eternal stagnancy
(Spock)
And Captain don't forget our mission
The beauty of opening new doors
To go to those forbidden places
Where no man has gone before
With the sadness of lost friendship
And as I look into my own eyes
The damage of my faith-based fears
Struggling as I say the word, "Fire"
Photons rip through the hull
Of this Enterprise of faith
And the exaggerated look of horror
Spreads across both of our face
And now I consider the wreckage
Of a species void of curiosity
Silently content to be powerless
And stare mindlessly at a TV
And I wonder if all new awareness
Must first go through this stage
As we learn that asking questions
Is not indicative to faith
Captain's Personal Log,
There is a sadness that comes from destroying the part of me that wants
so desperately to believe in something. Yet I have found this faith always
leads to a limitation of consciousness, a stagnancy of awareness that
leads to a retraction of my identity, and ultimately to the most unbearable
unhappiness. But now I wish to stop looking to what others want me to
believe, and to look to myself. No fear of the judgments I was taught as
a child. No fear of abandoning always what someone else always told
me. The thrill of the stars is calling me, and I want to go where no man........
has gone before...........
Captains Log Star date 8391.1,
I now face a terrible dilemma. After the bloodiest of battles with a crew from
another dimension, a crew of doppelgangers, in essence a crew of ourselves, we
have finally gained the upper hand, and this other Enterprise, Enterprise of
ourselves, Enterprise of unquestioning faith, is tumbling, helplessly through the
coldness of space. And I, I remain unsure of my next move. Do I destroy this other
Enterprise before it makes me believe in the ideas I hear repeated the most? If I
destroy it, what will the consequences be for me and my crew?
(Status Mr. Chekov?)
Captain, her shields are down
With no anti-matter inducer interface
Basically she's a wounded wessel
Just hurling through space
(Spock)
But her coils are recharging
As is that of her design
You have only a brief window
Before her mains are back on line
Mr. Sulu, arm photon torpedoes
And stay ready with your hand
Lock phasers on target
And then await my next command
(locking phasers)
(Uhura)
Captain, the other Enterprise is hailing
Wishing to express their desire
This faith-based you wants to discuss
The terms of a mutual cease fire
(ON SCREEN)
(the faith-based me}
What's the meaning of this attack?
You have taken this too far
And don't you dare forget
I know how blood thirsty you are
(the questioning me)
You represent the old me
The empty parrot of my faith
But so often you gave me comfort
During the loneliest of days
(the faith-based me)
Then we have an understanding
You can see that you need me
I just want.............. to live.....
To love and ........to breath......
The grain of wheat
dies
at Thy command
unconscious
of Your living
in its shell
turning it to life
giving bread
perpetuating it
ages
without end
nursing it with rain
and sunny smiles
from seed to stalk
a golden social plant
bowing its seeded
hairy head
in breezy dance
with poppy skirts
in red
illumed by a ruby
sunset veil
with robin breasts
singing gratitude
before the night
descends
its blinding veil
to equalizes colors'
vibrant hues
in noncompeting
shades
of resting black
switching lights
of distant
trembling lamps
luminous smile
of vagrant onion slice
to make of night
a little less
than death
before awaking
to splendor
rosy rays
sparkling diamonds
on grassy
finger hands
that mist to vanish
then return to play
hanging water lamps
on leaves and branches
that drip into the throat
of parched earth
to feed the roots
and soften seeds
to sprout
perennial cycle
feeding
and being fed
and all creation
obeying
seems content
except for man
to whom You gave will
to obey or to dissent
the pupil of Your eyes
You call friend
by interests
daily affairs
being led astray
the banquet ready
for repentant heir
all set with such glorious
royal splendor
no eyes have ever seen
nor ears have heard
the marvel of a joy
without compare
beyond the imagined
no pen can write
only faith can travel
Brian Strand: First place Trophy Winner- Your Choice Again-2/20/24
Brian Strand-You Say-Third Place Winner-3/14/23
First Place Winner: Brian Strand- All yours-1/17/21
I am your servant
What can I do for you
Take you on an air baloon ride
Up and away so you can fly
Rising up into the sky
Just us alone you and I
Recite a funny poem
On the way home
Fly you in an airplane
On a romantic trip to Spain
A great adventure will make you
Never the same
Next we will go to Italy
To eat and enjoy and see all we can see
As we travel far away to have fun
We can greet and shake hands with every one
New ways to serve you rise inside of me
New places to go things to do and see
Do you have a idea too
Of what you like and want to do
Your wish is my command
BOMBER COMMAND
It won’t happen to me
he said,
we’re Bomber Command.
It won’t happen to me
he said.
We must blow the enemy out of the sky
he said.
we’re Bomber Command
The pride and belligerence of the Reich
it’s Hitler’s war on Europe
and it’s my sixteenth sortie out tonight,
he said
we’re Bomber Command
Somewhere in the Rhineland
his body lies
He gave his life for his country
but he gave mine too
in Bomber Command.
You, topmost brass of the military chain of command,
though it's your warriors who blast away humans from the land,
you're liable,
answerable;
you can never wash away the blood of guilt from your hand!
control and command
of that which comes out of your hand
advances your cause
while giving the hitter occasional pause.
Nostradamus ician incantation once meet.
Informal inveracity of the ignoble sect.
Saviors stylish mercies sensed saving their necks.
Invariably today were imputed more adult.
Placing belittled Bibles on the very top shelf.
Next shelf implement the almanac.
Impending how arrangements tend to imbue.
Saviors sweet tune of the scented cock a too.
Were well deserving of our labors.
Incongruities ignite in-between neighbors.
Inconspicuous identification erupts into trouble.
Soldiers marching ides, on the double.
Truth impugned ; subhuman indelible infamy.
Saviors transcendent healing: iatric stylets.
Next shelf implement the dictionary.
Jesus; Icon; identify; ideal; Icarus; iffy.
Incredulous! how impious ideas initiate with i.
Saviors stance steady, as indignant missiles aren't stones.
********
I can not change
the Master
Fore He is the Plan
------
Threw out the ides' of Destiny
He has always'
Been in Command
--------
He commanded the Rocks'
-And-
He famished the Trees'
Some-times' they did not
Bare their fruit
And the Leaf's feel from
The Trees'
------
And yes, Gad gave gifts'
Of everything
With the greatest of ease
-------
He Ordained that His
Children should come home
That they should never be alone
------
To leave this land
And to take Amen
To His Throne
For they were His FIRST BORN
-----
Fore they would finally
Meet Jesus
And live in Parity
Till the 'END' coming
To the brink of Eternity
*******
To finally seek
The Lord Our GOD
GF
Bulldozers, drunk with gasoline
once again have scarred and maimed
a place, once green with grass and trees
Where we once heard the sound of breeze
and ghosts of children played their games
and were forced to leave their childhood memories
There trembles now an engine's roar,
that drowns the sounds of echoed glee
In trenched out holes, in broken trees
The big top guns....pour the concrete, build the towers
Ravage earth, take the power, then run- run- run
The dinosaurs raise their iron heads
Jaws dripping with loads of earth and grass
Like a gopher rampages through his halls
Forcing the small guys to their knees
One by one the disappearance of the land
And while the green world our grandfathers knew
Is gone in days, with every oak that falls
When this new invading presence someday is done
Has had his fill of dollar bills,
Then soon abandons one and all..
What will be our fate
Who will mourn, who will recall?
Will we stand up, change the course
Can we stop invading forces
Before it’s too late? Before we have lost it all?
________________________________________________________________
In her palace by the sea
Queen Belafree
Is reigning from a tarnished throne,
Where mosses, algae, climb her walls
Where mildewed, frescoed halls
Peel through plaster to old stone;
And seagulls scree, waves moan.
Yet she holds a lively court,
Where clowns cavort,
And troubadours sing lilting-sad…
And jugglers toss where acrobats
Spin cartwheels till they lose their hats,
Snatching up the coins she throws…
Outside, the waterline just rose!
Belafree ignores the tide
So high outside,
Instead she smiles and starts to speak:
“Now dance! The show must never stop!”
Heedless that the ceilings creak,
As floors commence to sag and leak…
When None Command
By surging sea and force of wind
A tattered vessel floundered in
Where coral reef performed the rest
In ripping wide her wooden breast.
From timber scream to cracking mast
Her form dismembered to the last
And on the waves her pieces reached
An aftermath of slumber, beached.
She is a silent reprimand
To those who sail
When none command.
lost love is simply that only because both parties are no longer on the same page... yet if one is fighting the fires of confusion single handed... its like their union ...she or he has commanded... love is colorful flame that changes as the intensity of the two... some say its pink others say its blue...
Her secret fantasy; she was afraid that someone would find out...
About her love as wanton desire ? for women; sensual sexual, urges.