Best Continuously Poems
Courage of Youth, Battle of Ypres, Flanders Field
(A Tribute)
Tough as nails young man with a red right hand
red-fire and whiskey ran in his blood.
Courageous seed of vast and cold hard land
quick temper, power of a surging flood.
Seeker of life, its promised mysteries
rash gambler with all he would ever own.
Born on ship in high wind swept, roaring seas
toughest warrior his town had ever grown.
Met his fate by volley of red-hot lead
buried on ground scared and battle blasted.
Aye boys, fodder that machine guns were fed
fools marching to death, long as it lasted.
Now flowers cover up and Time denies
scenes of battle torn soil and blood-red skies.
R.J. Lindley
April 23rd, 1975
SONNET-(DEATH AND WAR'S FUTILITY)
Tribute to Courage of Youth-- Second Battle of Ypres, April 22nd 1915 .
Note- added - 8-26-2017
Wiki-
The name Flanders Fields is particularly associated with battles that took place in the Ypres Salient, including the Second Battle of Ypres and the Battle of Passchendaele. For most of the war, the front line ran continuously from south of Zeebrugge on the Belgian coast, across Flanders Fields into the centre of Northern France before moving eastwards — and it was known as the Western Front.
The phrase originates from a poem titled In Flanders Fields by Canadian Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae, inspired by his service during the Second Battle of Ypres. The fields were not maintained for years before they were made into a memorial. Today Flanders Fields is home to thousands of poppies.
--------------------------------------
Found this while rummaging through some of my old poems. Decided not to edit it. Leave it as it was composed over 42 years ago..
Added the note for those not familiar with that battle and its horrific carnage, primarily from the insanity of large bodies of troops marching into direct machine gun fire.
*******************
Note:
This poem was selected and requested for teaching purposes at Cambridge University. Permission was granted for educational use.... RJL
Categories:
continuously, conflict, death, fate, sorrow,
Form:
Sonnet
To the little machine, that's so hard to clean
And sits alone on the shelf,
I'm thankful to you, for that potion you brew
That turns me into myself.
You may be a squatter, but I still give you water
Some grounds and then flip a switch
My steps I retrace, brush teeth, wash face
Come back and drink 'til I twitch
You're always ready, you drip so steady
And that smell is heaven sent.
You always work quiet and help with my diet,
My hunger you circumvent.
I have heard you stutter, sometimes spit and sputter
But in truth, that's all on me
If I do my part, then simply push start
Then you do the rest for free.
You start everyday helping me find my way
As I wake in my early brain fog
Then at noon, then night, you continuously delight
You're my hero, my silent demigod
Life wasn't the same before you came
I just couldn't seem to wake up
So here's to you and all that you do
A Toast! Hang on, let me fill my cup.
Daniel Turner
2/22/23
Categories:
continuously, appreciation, funny,
Form:
Ode
Sun is held hostage by a blanket of clouds,
reflecting an agitated addict's ashtray.
Birds depart from soaked naked branches,
as eyes seek refuge from the ugliness of change.
I peer beneath this umbrage pitched upon the ground
anticipating a palette of summer to simper back
yet all I see are stick figure shadows frolicking
as this bitter autumn wind encircles me
Symphonies of the sky continuously weep.
I watch petals float in puddles of regret,
so I reflect back to a summer of mon amour,
where Michelangelo hands sculptured my garden.
Reflecting back, delicate strokes within velvety folds
as fingers trace the edges of my heart's blossom
crimson drops slip silently between my hands
for even the beauty of a rose holds autumn's thorns
Secure from rustic debris that blow against windows,
5pm twilight, means no rekindling with my cherished sun.
My shortened days lash back through glares of street lamps
with frosty glass etchings chiselled by night's harsh breath.
Collaboration with Sandra Adams
Silent One
20 October 2019
Categories:
continuously, analogy, angst, autumn,
Form:
Free verse
Must money make man mad?
Money makes man mad
Meanwhile, man made money
Must millions make man mad?
Massive money many mention
Mighty materials, man’s main mandate
Making many mentally magnetic
Mean money might mar man
Con-men crave catching cash consistently
Committing crimes continuously
Consequently, they’re caught, captured, killed
While we wonder where we’re
We want wealth which withers
When we wouldn’t wake
We wouldn’t work without weighing ways
When we weigh madness with mildness
We would work with wisdom
When we work wisely,
We would win
MUSE: AKINDELE OLUWAJIMI
Categories:
continuously, corruption, evil, money,
Form:
Alliteration
The Writer's Book Bag
When I looked done,
The bags were all around.
Scattered on the floor,
Obviously bought at a secondhand store.
Writers came in and sat down,
Claiming most of the bags that were around.
Except for one.
Leaning against the chair leg,
Slumping with exhaustion.
Faded from the wash,
Ground stains on the bottom.
Sweating metal flask,
Hidden in the side.
Leaving a moist imprint,
That almost comes alive.
Stuffed to the gills,
Tiny wisps of paper sticking out.
Torn slightly from being tossed about.
Straps all askew.
It has been everywhere,
Continuously added to,
Strata to be mined,
When you have the time.
Cupped softly,
Hopes,
Dreams,
Fears,
Treasures left of
All that is left of you.
Categories:
continuously, 12th grade, writing,
Form:
Free verse
Sun is held hostage by a blanket of clouds,
reflecting an agitated addict's ashtray.
Birds depart from soaked naked branches,
as eyes seek refuge from the ugliness of change.
I peer beneath this umbrage pitched upon the ground
anticipating a palette of summer to simper back
yet all I see are stick figure shadows frolicking
as this bitter autumn wind encircles me
Symphonies of the sky continuously weep.
I watch petals float in puddles of regret,
so I reflect back to a summer of mon amour,
where Michelangelo hands sculptured my garden.
Reflecting back, delicate strokes within velvety folds
as fingers trace the edges of my heart's blossom
crimson drops slip silently between my hands
for even the beauty of a rose holds autumn's thorns
Secure from rustic debris that blow against windows,
5pm twilight, means no rekindling with my cherished sun.
My shortened days lash back through glares of street lamps
with frosty glass etchings chiseled by night's harsh breath.
A collaboration with Silent One
Categories:
continuously, autumn, rain,
Form:
Free verse
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
My childhood spent without peers
alone and prey to my fears.
Nights spent face buried in my pillow
my emotions like a weeping willow.
The school kid disliked and attacked
like a player continuously sacked.
Bruises and scars physical,
cuts deep and salted, emotional.
Not a friend not even one
or an adult there to help - none.
You look to the skies for relief
but lessons taught come with grief.
Our life books come prewritten
set in stone, can't be rewritten.
Loneliness moves in, year after year
without choice you hide behind a veneer.
You give up on living
focus on just existing.
Sorry, I have to stop here. This story now transcends
rhyming, calls for a voice free just to speak.
Loneliness has many faces.
I imagine one of the most intense state of loneliness
is losing a loved one.
A planet of three billion would feel empty.
I have witnessed my mothers chagrin after
losing my father.
Happy partners a lifetime long and suddenly
she is one of two.
You do the math.
They were two who became one.
Now she is alone cut down the middle
add her pain and she is barely half.
There is no crowd that could fill her void.
There is no amount of family love
that could fill the hole in her heart.
My pain was different. I just had a wish to belong,
to have one friend, one love, or just to have a hand to hold.
When you're abandoned, ridiculed, and disliked
by everyone even by people who don't even
know you, you have no choice but to hide.
My loneliness turned me into a critter
that could curl up into a small ball.
Still I had hope.
I wished someone could love me.
Love me for my gentle ways,
my giving nature and my open arms.
18~11~2014
Sponsor: frank herrera
Contest Name: FACES OF LONELINESS
WRITE ABOUT LONLINESS FROM YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE....MUST BE AUTO BIOGRAPHICAL.
Categories:
continuously, loneliness, planet,
Form:
Free verse
This Poem Is Who I Am With Everybody.
I was told who I am, always reflects upon my friends
and family. When I choose a friend we become one
soul forever.This Is how I interpret my friendship.
When I choose a friend, I would shelter their names
in my heart,after conquering their friendship.
Their secrets will register in my brain to never be exposed.
I was told who I am always reflects upon their lives, they know
my spirit and soul will not survive without them, my consistency
will nurture their strength to exude.
When I choose a friend, my love will never sleep or vanish,
my telepathy will wake up and sleep when they retire.
My sharing becomes an unconditional awareness of either their
pain or happiness. They feel that I am capable of praying for
them each night.
If they are near or far makes no difference out of love their
shadow will send me messages in what state of mind they
are at the moment.
My heart will surrender when I am needed, if they want to talk,
I will listen, if they cry I will wipe their tears, if they are hungry
for food I will feed them, if they hunger for philosophy, I would
share my knowledge, if they crave for silence my voice is muted,
if they are weak in health nothing will hold me back from running
to stay next to them day and night till healing will prevail.
When I choose a friend, I was told who I am always reflects upon
their everyday living, because knowing all what I possess will be
shared without asking, generosity progresses out of love.
Their silhouette constantly moves next to me, feeling their heart
beat continuously to determine how to approach them.
That is why who I am always reflects upon their everyday,
knowing I analyze the word friendship as the dearest to my soul,
I have no boundaries, my tears will flow like raindrops reaching their
window if any help is needed.
I love all my friends.
21/5/2013 Contest For SKAT. This Is Who I Am with everybody. WIN (10)
Categories:
continuously, best friend, devotion, identity,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I'm a grit teeth beginner breaking out the cage,
growing strong and fitter with wit coming of age,
squeezing letters out of lemons got me in a rage,
but this bitter will get better and steal the stage.
I'm out to lay a new way suitable to a renegade,
angrily squashing this yellow fruit into lemonade,
using the skin to pave a golden route in the trade,
writes rooted in the age of this transitional upgrade.
No scourge can submerge the courage I preserve under the surface,
that purrs with an urge to hand carve words with power and purpose,
this marvellous occurrence undoubtedly surges to resurface,
and repeatedly emerges delivering perfectly superb verses.
Attempts to pull curtains on my spirit,
only teach knowledge that I inherit,
I react and catch before impact to my merit
and you can't collapse the soul of this poet.
Everyone falls but my core's impenetrable,
and my mental resilience is unbreakable,
they can't remove something unshakeable,
trying is a mistake that'll make you miserable.
I've learnt to benefit from attempted attacks
aimed to prevent the way that I vent and act,
catching the weaponry and adding to my stack,
I've a determination that I'll never let crack.
I'll elevate as I stimulate with flow
and levitate the audience to show,
I'm able to continuously demonstrate
that my work is something to celebrate,
even though my opinion will make them hate.
Coming back is what I do,
don't make me come back for you!
Categories:
continuously, anxiety, character, confidence, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
Rusted, but well oiled and continuously in use, heaven’s gate.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest: One, One Liner
Sponsor: Rick Parise
Placed 2nd
© 9th November 2016
Categories:
continuously, image, retirement,
Form:
Verse
As I stared into the starless night,
the blinding lights of the city blotting out the beauty of a
cloudless sky fading away into day
I wonder what we missed this time - so preoccupied with our
earthly troubles - perhaps a message that Heaven wanted us to hear
Could it be a winsome Sonnet that was waiting in the winds for us, but we did not listen?
As I looked out over the waters of the endless river - flowing steady
The small streams making their own separate way, reflecting the
beauty of the Moon lighting up the night sky; What is the story they
have to tell - but we are too busy trying to sort out the problems we
brought upon ourselves
Could it be a sweet Melody in answer to the questions that flow continuously through our hearts?
Oh Look! Behold the mountains rising in the distance - the lovely
Daffodils and Sunflowers moving in the soft winds - blue green grass covering the Earth from as far as the eye can see - What is this Song they sing? Do we not understand the language they speak to us? Are we so filled with the
worries of everyday life that the meaning is hidden from our minds
Could it be a wholesome Ballad to guide us through the maze of the
issues of everyday life?
It seems we can translate with ease the verbiage of hate filled hearts;
We put ourselves in agreement with the Lie; that our Creator made one
race of people superior to another; we read the dictionary filled with the
meaning of murder, betrayal and treachery - perpetrated upon others who
were made in the same image as ourselves - and then we watch with
closed hearts the consequential results of indulging in this dark information
Could it be that we missed the sweet Song whispering in our hearts
from Heaven's Choir?
Categories:
continuously, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
Women in my family
are lovers of laughter and life.
Not often feeling much fulfilled, however,
in our individual roles as someone's wife,
still we have kind hearts, and do the best we can.
In childhood, no great connection with our father did we feel.
Were we doomed to have it not with any man?
We saw our mother’s struggles and how she endured.
That same perseverance we’ve all inherited!
Good, strong friendships for ourselves we procured.
Our children are raised. Older now, new challenges we face.
It’s just by phone that in each other we are able to confide,
but we long for fun reunions and each other’s fond embrace.
We find joy in simple things continuously.
After all, lovers of laughter and life are we!
June 23, 2022
for Sotto Poet's Women In My Family Poetry Contest
Categories:
continuously, family,
Form:
Rhyme
No I'm not kidding , believe what I say.
Step behind the orange line and behind it you stay.
Yes, I'll scan your items from six feet away
but stay behind the orange line until its time to pay.
It's not rocket science, there's a pandemic, its real.
You may not believe it , but respect how we feel.
Stay six feet back and yes its a big deal.
We say it continuously , our mantra , our spiel.
Some of you get it and some are just dense.
Some get indignant and really take offense.
But the lines and the barriers to us just make sense.
When you get too close can't you see that we're tense.
Those lines were put there for a reason you see
and it might stay this way for one season or three.
So listen , dear customer, listen to me.
Get behind the orange line or no sale will there be.
26/04/2020
Categories:
continuously, stress, work,
Form:
Rhyme
What's worse than a malicious master of manipulation?
Two who join together to play Pin the Tail on their prey
Continuously and clamorously... asses love to bray
Cruelty is not always physical
Some take joy in messing with the mind
Blowing in like a blustering wind
with wicked words bringing them fame
of being labeled 'Keyboard Bullies'
Isn't that a repugnant name?
There's nothing casual about the pain
their cryptic cruelty causes, nor the disdain
Odious is the stench of ogres in the game they play
Beasts who feast on innocent folks
With a guileful grin they wound with keystrokes
Shots fired from wolves in sheep's clothing
They're gnashing teeth bite with loathing
Poisoned seeds of malice they sow
cawing to anyone who listens when they crow
With a nit-picking beak or crooked finger pointing,
they appoint themselves kings and queens,
then squat on a throne by self-anointing
Pathetic fools dwelling in a state of pretense
whose level of narcissism and bullying is immense
Sharpened are their tongues and pens used as tools
Quick to throw a gauntlet upon the ground
at what they presume is weak quarry
but how speedily they bay like injured hounds
when a righteous eye looks in their direction
Intimidation is a hallmark of their imperfection
The white flag wavers are filled with ire
Waffles, covering themselves in sweet syrup talk
claiming they're the victim. What a crock!
Their feet should be held in the fire
No one should be a casualty of their cruelty
Disparaging others is a painful assault
The fault of aggressors who crave attention
Keyboard bullies causing conflict and dissension
Living in their dark world... the cyber dimension
Categories:
continuously, bullying,
Form:
Rhyme
She questions her life..
She questions her mortality..
She questions her immortality..
Curiously seeking for answers ..
Of the unknown..
Who am I..
Why do we rise and fall..
Why is there pain..
Why is there suffering..
Imbalances exist in a perfectly balanced world..
Earth is beautifully balanced..
As she spins gracefully..
She is in perfect harmony..
Her pure essence is of love..
Her pure essence is of nurture..
As she nurtures us all with the splendor of nature..
Overwhelmed she is at times..
As our nuturing Mother Earth continuously..
Balances our inbalances..
Of which there are disturbances to her harmonic flow..
She maintains her glory..
As nature shall always remain perfect..
Who am I..
Mortality is only the body..
Immortality is all and one..
An immortal soul strives in magnificence..
No birth as it always exited..
Rebirth as it seeks to remember..
To experience..
An immortal soul glides passionately through..
Different chapters of life..
Lives and dimensions of what is..
One cannot rise..
Unless one falls..
Of which there lies pain and suffering..
We only fall..
Just to rise again..
Again and again..
As she questions her mortality..
Her immortality..
Her answers are found within..
Categories:
continuously, earth, life, metaphor, spiritual,
Form:
Personification