Best Crusades Poems
If 2012 prophesies prove true
And Earth’s life cycles again renew
Mysteries of man will be more than a few
Challenges may await future life forms
With intellects far surpassing our norm
Created to live without doing harm
For if they decipher man’s history
What will they make of our great mystery
The one we refer to as bigotry
Black labs, gold retrievers live side by side
Wild stallions and mustangs on prairies ride
Both red ants and black, free to colonize
Man’s refusal to accept differences
To wiser beings may make no sense
What in man’s makeup can give it credence?
Earth’s subsequent creatures may reproduce
Not needing two sexes to call a truce
So mating rituals may be pursued
A single-sex species might not comprehend
Why women workers were paid less than men
And why “free speech” was not just a given
Questions would most certainly arise
How a believer in God denies
Rights to free worship without compromise
And how could so many wars be waged
Evoking God’s name in death-march crusades
With killing, torturing in every age
Indeed such mysteries in man’s history
Would leave a perplexing legacy
Sure to confound any new species
New cultures may thrive on diversity
Of religion and genealogy
And speak of our inferiority
Note: This is dedicated to Christopher Higgins whose poems about prejudice inspire readers
to do more than just think about one of the greatest ills in our society.
There's a river that twists in the mind
that I plunder and ravish with sieves,
on crusades to the summit of rhyme
where my Phoenix of tropes and schemes live.
In a war to free diction's fair Queen
where the Soldiers of Babel bemuse
and the modern day graceless regimes
are in battles to stifle my muse!
In my quest for her verse of prestige
I have traveled a nexus of words
with this Lexis of language on siege;
where the dissonant hum drum is heard!
Oh, the poise of my bayonet firm
as I pin down my thoughts in a rush!
Oh, the will of the language it squirms
as her essence of glory I brush!
She's the Queen Muse that whispers within
as she watches me battle with style,
she supplies me the yarn that I spin
as she lends me her rhythm awhile.
It's the moment her Highness is freed
that the Armies of Dissonance fall
and the sound of Perfection can bleed
in those lyrical sounds that enthrall!
Inside an inkwell, lives a fairy tale
A classic, filled with love and misery
Where," Once upon a time" has long set sail
And "happy ever after's" yet to be
It's plot, a knight, once schooled in chivalry
His quest for love, the dragons he has slain
From Crusades 'round the world to frippery
The jousts with Father Time who drew disdain
Yet deep inside is where brave knight remains
A lifetime of adventures, good and bad
The love he searches for, still unobtained
Still finding peace, his "grail" this Gallahad
Perhaps, I'll buy a quill one of these days
Release Sir Knight and legends of his ways
by Daniel Turner
Spenserian sonnet abab bcbc cdcd ee
Take me back to a more romantic time
Of kings and castles and love sublime
When chivalry was in the air
Let me kiss the hand of my lady fair
I'll walk the land in days of yore
When tales were told by a troubadour
I will go where the ale and wine are poured
I will serve my queen with fire and sword
I could scale the castle walls in the dark of night
To see the woman I love, what a beautiful sight
We could steal away from the castle and then
Join forces with Robin and his merry men
A life full of daring, knowing not fear
Dining in the presence of Queen Guinivere
Each morning launches new escapades
Mounting my horse to join the Crusades
Oh please take me back if only in a dream
Where honor and courage were held in esteem
Where wizards cast spells and dragons breathe fire
To become a knight was a young man's desire
Oh let me be brave in times of duress
And save that damsel in distress
Let me bend to one knee before we part
Gaze into her eyes and win her heart.
This fortress is overgrown with moss,
guarded from storms of selfishness,
when the waltz with winter left behind
a mausoleum covered in frozen dahlia dust.
Fading with scents of summer Jasmine,
peaches rot in a forgotten orchard,
where ivy strangles statues of past lovers,
whose infatuation drifted with nemesis clouds.
But, beyond the barricade
with every butterfly beat,
there is a sigh craving for comfort from
lips that will surrender this solitude.
My soul searches for Rumi's field of fairness,
where 'forever' is not just a gesture and
honesty is not hidden behind metaphors.
Yet, I wonder if love is a beautiful phenomenon
that will endlessly evade my grasp.
In this giddiness, I ponder
why romance is an abused cliché,
so should I gift my garden to another,
when petals I plant only perish?
Maybe, I am not worthy,
maybe, I seek for it in starry eyed fantasies,
where all bonds are evergreen -
but in reality most are moulded artificially
Confined inside the sanctuary of this heart,
behind a stubborn shield,
there is a love story where roses flourish,
alongside honeysuckle, untouched.
Knock to enter if you desire to cultivate,
not conquer through self-centred crusades.
Compose a chorus of internal birdsongs,
to revive extinct flowers. blossoming in my
oasis of kisses, only seen in your dreams.
A simple Sunday Musing. An example for the contest I am currently running.
17 May 2026
All you need is one word,
Erase just one word
from the minds of the people,
Rout out just one idea, one concept,
Eliminate 'Religion' from
the dictionary of mankind--
Man's stupendous and
gravest faux pas!
And, you'll see peace,
happiness, brotherhood;
There won't then be any infidels,
No gentiles, no heathens,
No pagans, no idol worshipers;
No racism, no hatred, no jihad,
No crusades, no inquisition,
No persecution, no repercussion.
No church, no mosque,
No temple, no synagogue,
No holy scriptures,
No words of God,
No places of pilgrimage,
No holy sites, no holy icons;
There won't be a pope or a priest,
Nor any saint or a swami,
No mullah, no imam,
No pundit or any rabbi.
No one to dupe you,
No one to lure you,
No Satan, no sin,
No guilty conscience,
No need for confession
No need for salvation;
And, what the hell,
There won't be any hell!
"I Can't Breathe" contest by Cyndi MacMillan
For you and only you, my love, I’ll wait.
I’ll wait through evening’s dusk to early dawn.
On corners or at stations; by my gate
I’ve waited - and at night with curtains drawn.
The hands of time keep moving, stroke by stroke.
My calendar I’ve marked and then remarked.
What muse of tempering may I invoke
to cool these everlasting flames you’ve sparked?
Please come to me, unholy knight of love!
I cling to threadbare promises you made.
My tarrying I've grown so weary of
while off again you go on some crusade.
Fine gallant you are not, but - oh, perverse!
A heart grown fonder lingering is my curse.
(What I should have written to an old crush of mine
whose modern day crusades consumed his life!)
It was not so
It was not so
Before the invasion of the vultures
In those days
When being black makes us thick
When our communion whispers across oceans
When our ties thrust distrust
When our dreams were dreams
When our groans frighten their gods
When our cowries outweigh their currencies
But now,
The invasion of the vultures
Mocked our mores
Crucified our tradition with their crusades
Barter our black gem for arms
Conscript our angels into prostitution
Littering our minds with the doctrines of servitude
It was not so
With their holy writ they stabbed us
It was not so
Before the invasion of the Vultures.
awoh kingsley awoh
No great structures, no crusades over mountains,
No wounds felled or tales of being unbeaten.
All around me is a lively choir of colours and images
Merging beautifully, all the visages and the mirages.
In this fragmented world, I search for the kaliedoscope,
To string together a bit of beauty, truth, love and hope.
More smiles, less tears...
More silence, less fears.
I did not visit all the temples,
Could not always pray properly.
At times I had to say no to friends,
But then I had the best intentions.
Heaven or hell, I know not, nor do I care,
A life is a life, mine or theirs.
There are differences, but they are the surface,
Deep inside, its less of you and I, more of us.
Glittering droplets of the early morning dew,
The sun is the same, reflected every day anew.
The drops vanish, life goes on
In borrowed wisdom, the poet sings his life's song.
The faiths that bind our righteous hearts
to the tenets of our devine
Principles placed to uphold our faith
are the grapes that grow from vine
Each woman and man has a light
they choose to see its shine
But rays cast down in many ways
yours is to you, and I've mine
To think God would leave it so
only one faith could show the way
Knowing the expanse that is this World
not only one book should have it's say
Perspectives are the windows from our homes
looking from seperate angles onto one street
The views are of varied degrees
No one house stands alone on concrete.
These books we follow are guides, not gallows
our lives are precious treasure
Blood should never be spilled "for God"
killing conflicting faiths for good measure
Crusades, Jihad....a terrible way to worship,
this is not what God intended
The life given to us is a gift we share
this was never meant to be contended
Bible, Torah, Koran...
Ten Commandments, Sabbath, Mecca, Baptism, Ramadan...
list goes on and on
Wine and wafer, dont eat pork, dont eat....
These are all semantics
Rituals of our perspectives
God chose to reach us in different ways
Channeled prophets to carry his voice
Each corner of the earth
in voices we could comprehend
But these were the voices of men...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The paths we walk intertwine at the destination
Culling
Back in the ancient long ago,
We had the great Crusades,
Men with red crosses on their chest,
Used swords against scimitar blades,
Todays evil ones would murder all,
Is death a disease,
Does hatred of mankind, bitter gall,
Create such misery?
It is in man to cull the crop,
To trim the numbers there,
With 6 billion on the planet, stop,
Another, world slaughter, so unfair?
Murder is in the heart of some,
It festers, and the deed is done,
It’s enough to get you on the rum,
The bitter harvest there…
Don Johnson 23-aug-11
The church judged my abortion
now it is my turn
crusades killed thousands
for Jesus
then Native Americans were slaughtered
in the name of Jesus
all for the almighty
I, who cried for the death of one
as they rejoiced the death
of many
Dedicated to my sister, the kindest person I know.
Billions of journeys round a fiery eye
This watery celestial traveler made.
Untiring, spiraling route through the sky
Always returned from yearly crusades.
She carried her children on top her back
And nurtured their needs until they have grown.
Some may have suffered; those may have cracked
But never through any fault of her own.
Forever and always maternally
This wondrous, aging beauty shall remain
Our source of life atmospherically.
Through time and space her dimensions attained
Despite her journeys she managed to bring
Her gifts: summer, autumn, winter and spring.
The era has many glorious phases and faces
when it began on the fall of the Roman empire
Age of Darkness seized war and fire
and time stirred diverse cultures and races
Different flavors were tasted at the end of the story
Commerce and knowledge became Europe's glory
but division of Germanic tribes was Roman's fall
and many emperor’s responded to religion's call
From Clovis to Louis was Christianism
Monks lives and prays in their monasteries
Socio-political systems such as manorialism and feudalism
gave way for peace and order to avoid miseries
The knights are nobilities that needs to pass every ordeal
with passion, poise, bravery, and their will
to fight for their king, their land, and their brothers
no matter how far or how hard the battle offers
In closing of another chapter in history
the Church plans to retrieve their Holy Land
from the Muslim Turks they'll fight hand in hand
Pope Urban II leads the Crusade that led to tragedy
Children were used to touch hearts of stones
but it was the road for them to loose their soul and bones
There were nine crusades that were executed
but none of which did the land exalted
The effects are the weakening of feudalism
and the Church was shadowed with criticism
but it paved way for the innovation of agricultural technology
from conserving water to wind energy
The rise of the trade industry
strengthen the European economy
Fares are conducted by the feudal lords
traders are selling foods, arts, and swords
Truly, the Medieval Time will leave a trace
in history and in every human race
It became the cornerstone of the eras after
A foundation for another stone to be smoother
Born to a Catholic family
Each Sunday spent kneeling in pews
Taught to accept Christ as my savior
And that Hell is for those that refuse.
As I grew older, I wondered
How good people of different beliefs.
Could be destined to spend eternity
With adulterers, murderers, and thieves.
I learned more and more of our history
It defied my indoctrination.
Through Papal Indulgence to bloody crusades
I was given my own revelation
People, by the book's definition
Are sinners, and each is flawed
Yet somehow. we hold expectations
That we've passed down the true word of God
So I can no longer walk blindly
For in my soul, I have realized
That faith can be found in every heart
And it needn't be organized.
:For If you build it they will misuse it contest