Best Dams Poems
to my kindred soul
...i know you are out there
somewhere on the other side
across cobblestone streets
that scorn my feet, like hearts
on the pathways and wrong turns
of so called love
i've been kissed
but not by your lips
nor with the same passion
as the skies at dawn
i've been wrapped
in the contours of arms
much like the bitter winds
of autumn's sweeping nights
shivering beneath the touches
that left me stranded
on the journey towards you
i hold you in my dreams
on the other side of streams
where tears trickle over the rocks
and the dams hold me back
i searched for you
beneath the lambent moon
through shadows on alleyways
always losing sight
in the harrows of night
i've danced
silently with death
in silhouettes
upon mind's walls
always breaking free
running away, lost
on these sidewalks
of chalked thoughts
yet sometimes i wonder
had i held his hand
would he have led me to you
in another place
another time
does fate await our destiny
on the other side of life...
i still search for you
down cobblestone streets
through the passages of time
as it shifts beneath my feet
stranded, alone
until we meet....
inside my dreams
Written 10/25/2019
Best free verse July-December 2019 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Entered December 8, 2019
I have never seen a flower blush when I took it's hue
and held it there a prisoner captive to my view.
I have always heard the song that's in the autumn breeze
playing taps in harmony with the forest leaves.
I love the smell of rain that brings the springtime into bud
and swells my love of nature into a teeming flood.
I celebrate the cycle of the daytime into night
and find an equal blessing in the shadow and the light.
I've always felt affinity for all created things
and surrender to the pleasure that their beauty brings.
And though I could spent a lifetime sailing drops of dew
I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
I've often sat myself by gentle mountain streams
and overflowed the dams that were holding back my dreams.
I've breathed the scented forest on the mountainside
and washed away my sorrows in an evening ocean tide.
I've laid down in a meadow and debated with the moon
and spent some quiet moments on the surface of Neptune.
I got married to a zodiac with one of Saturn's rings
then spied a super nova and went on a cosmic fling.
I've run away to nebulae in galaxy brochures
and bathed in scenes of wonders on distant planet shores.
Every cosmos in creation could parade before my view
but I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
I've never seen a tree once withdraw it's shade
and deny a creature the comfort of its aid.
I've never seen any anger in the sun at noon
when it burns relentlessly on the desert dune.
At sunrise I take an oath to live with all my might
and reinforce my gratitude each and every night.
I could spend some hours riding on a crystal flake
drifting wildly in a gale mindless of my fate.
Many times I've been through trials of wind and rain and snow
then sentenced to the splendors that the seasons show.
And though I've searched throughout creation, I must say this is true
I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
Blindly..
I beseech you
for my eyes won’t adjust
to this shaded maze of despair -
neither the lantern’s flame
nor a compass rose can help me now
in disrepair I need to find you
with fingers outstretched I raise my arms
groping for you like a eyeless babe for her mother
..but you’re not there —
a cunning thief this despair
for stealing my sight for a way out
Why won’t the summer solstice light this darkness
nor warm this anguished atmosphere..
am I to die here where I lie?
my undressed soul exposed to the wind-chill of your loss
naked in biting throes beneath a stony sun
desperate to thaw ice dams lodged in my bloodstream..
the winter sallow of my heart’s shallows a skater’s delight —
a cunning partner this despair..
ice-dancing with my pain
Where is the air I need to breathe..?
it’s evaporated with you and the dreams we used to dream
the weaver a double-dealer stealer..
life no longer lives in my poker-faced lifestyle
nor in fantasies long gone from sleep’s clouds
moth-eaten desires and grit and tears
too holey and harsh to knit a warm reason to swaddle in -
just let me close heavy hope-chest-lids of empty eyes
and take my last shrinking violet breath —
a cunning spy this despair
for infiltrating my will to survive..
Susan Ashley
October 11, 2020
N/A
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22
Sponsor: Mark Toney
(reformatted)
~ First Place ~
Contest: Will To Survive
Sponsor: Silent One
Now brown, the once-blue brook meanders down
To dams where sludge has chased beavers away
As species die, our Mother casts a frown
For Nature can’t control man or his way
From fracking, tapping minerals, she groans
She coughs, red lava spews from Mother’s pores
With waste-clogged arteries, she weeps and moans
The very sight of man she now abhors
As Nature inhales toxins, man’s forewarned
Her colors change from purity to rage
Depleting ozone, Earth has now been warmed
Tsunamis, hurricanes take center stage
We shed our tears, entrapped by urban sprawl
But Mother turns her head and lets them fall
*December 5, 2018
Written for John Hamilton’s “Colour of My Heart” Contest
Inspired by “Colors of the Wind” from the movie “Pocahontas”
Confined within the steep banks of a narrow mind
is a cryptic river where men stumble in and go blind
They construct reinforced dams that hold them back
from accepting the candid truth; white is not black
Like the slow moving current of a trickling stream
their thoughts are clogged and clot like curdled cream
What chance do the recalcitrant ones have to accept
reality if they allow no vision of being circumspect
of taking fault and blame for having a closed mind?
These are the ignorant, the foolish ones aptly defined
as those destined to stagnate until they decompose
It's the subsequent end to the stubborn who oppose
a new premise or concept with which they don't agree
They rot inside prisons of conceit; a human tragedy
Held unyielding in your narrow mind
is the ignorance which keeps you blind.
Building dams will only hold you back
from accepting that white is not black.
Like a slow moving, barricaded stream,
your thoughts clot like curdled cream.
Thin skin has need to slough rejection,
Your rigid stance in mirrored reflection.
Break open the dam across the estuary
that hinders your vision. It's necessary
to move in sync with malleable fluidity
instead of sputtering words of stupidity.
Shedding skin will allow you to breathe.
Release your potential from its sheathe.
Even a snake slithers out from its skin
to crawl from where it once had been.
Little is the chance you have to accept
new ideas if they are not circumspect
to the fault of having such a closed mind.
Throw off the veil that keeps you blind.
Don't become stagnant and decompose
by turning your back, continuing to oppose
any idea with which you just don't agree.
You'll drown in arrogance, acting so lordly.
I am no longer the shoreline
swept up in crashing waves of time
where memories reside,
and dire dams of water
collide within a tender mind.
I am the moon pulling the tide.
Written 5/24/20
Light 1-29-24 Syllables checked with www.howmanysyllables
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Light
Nightfall’s hand laid heavy on fleeing twilight
While the darkness, born early, swallowed the light.
Driving rain clouded the eyes of pale daylight,
Sheer curtains of rain blurred tears in the lamplight.
A world set spinning on bleak winter’s wrathful wings,
A battlefield of ruined souls shunned the light.
Howling waves, without sweet dawn’s consolation,
Drove raving storm surges, diluting the light.
Tangles of downpours assaulted waning day,
Jagged dirges shred blinded lyrics of light.
Torrent’s heavy footsteps drenched the dying dusk
When cracks appeared in sealed shelters, leaking light.
Atmospheric flotsam clogged free flowing dawn,
Driving dams of old debris to block new light.
In this rain painting, where darkness battled bliss,
There stepped a warrior, rain angel of light.
The storm wrath silenced. Darkness shamed. Light in whorls
Opened wide a redeemed chrysalis of light.
The Calamity of Nepal Part 2 Concluded
The crisis of Nepal is not only the result
Of manmade deeds and erratic constructions
Of erecting unplanned houses and roads
Creating illegal buildings and dams
And erecting high mountain reservoirs
On ocean like river Brahmaputra. 08
All these and many other
Horrible acts
Of changing or removing the mountain peaks
For roads, rails and for
Making concrete jungles
Without caring that
It is the most sensitive area of Earth
Where two giant Earth plates
Meet regularly almost everyday
Not for making gossips
But for making their kind of Love
Where, they often collide with each other
To determine, who has lost and who has won
These forces create
Havocs like the one we are witnessing in Nepal
They do it to take revenge
For the cruelties
Done by humans with the Nature
And with the mother earth. 09
The Earthquake is also the result
Of hollowing the heart of Himalaya
For making tunnels after tunnels and rails
For mining the hills and
Deforesting the green valleys
Removing forests after forests
For illegal mining and for erecting dams
For these reasons perhaps
The Earthquakes has hit Nepal and India both
But in Nepal it has done the worst
In spite of being affected by this crisis too
India is trying its best to help the people of Nepal
And now there are many other countries
Trying and helping the people of Nepal
Like a true good neighbor and well wisher. 10
All that is needed
In the hour of this terrible crisis
Is that we all should try to help
The people of Nepal
Treating them like our own
Next door neighbors and friends
For which every faith and religion
Always inspires us. 11
Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpur India 30th April 2015
(ALLITERATION)
Cows milked: mitigated mooing in the meadows then
Weaving on the warp, some workaholic women
Harvest of hapless halibuts on hooks
Bookish book-worms buried in books
A palomino and a pony patter on the paving
Hucksters and hawkers hawking every housing.
Ravers out on the razzle raising a raucous razz-ma-tazz
Beavers busy building beaver-dams but about it quite blasé.
Doves cooing in divine chorus
Frogs frisking out of focus
Horoscopes are hocus pocus.
Tidal waves of tsunami treacherously tread
Sea-anemones scattered upon the sea-bed.
Geraniums genuflecting in jungle-like gardens
Hunters wary of wandering wild-life wardens.
All this when I ventured about videotaping
Nature's much nicer even with no landscaping
These are direly different scenes from different parts of the globe
Perhaps like a space probe's kaleidoscopic poetic probe
( this poem has every letter of the alphabet except x)
Those who saw prairies bloom
Remember well the dams he built
Filling their abundant reservoirs
Growing harvests they cherished
Being the only bridge they had
Standing over turbulent streams.
When the nights reign moonless
And clouds churn mighty storms
Most people still remember him
As ray of light when they were lost
For he was their only lighthouse.
His words enlightened their hearts,
His actions charted pristine paths,
Defying fiercely allure of wrongs
Sacred was the sermon he doled out,
Illustrious was he~ held in regard.
Though he’s gone, he left his mark,
Some have heard his clarion call,
Inspired to follow in his footsteps,
Planting the seeds of his message,
Carrying his torch~ seeds to harvest.
Esteemed is their beneficent voice
Tolling of selflessness and sacrifice,
Dedicating to others purpose of life
Alleviating sufferings of human plight;
Keeping the flame of goodwill alive
Trekking through rains and clouds
Leading the way, guiding how to find
The rainbow on other side of sky.
March 17, 2022
Placed 1st: A Brian Strand 1092
Placed 2nd: Being A Light To Others Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
The Long Drought
A raging drought is running, causing pain
Beneath the scorching sun, the barren plain
The river’s gone, she’s ceased her mighty flow
And bushland trees no longer thrive nor grow
The dams are low and dry, it pains my heart
Our town will slowly die and friends depart
No bales of straw or hay for starving stock
As more succumb each day, my dying flock
From hills of broom and land of dark”ning strife
He came to find a better way of life
The call of peaceful bush like magnet drew
In this sweet place my father’s dream came true
Beside a spread of bright and golden grain
A link was forged anew in our strong chain
Where ‘roos abound among the fields of corn
On this fair land, it’s here that I was born.
Work started for me at only fourteen
Became a sheep drover, still wiry lean
The days long an’ hard, the burden was light
The soil rich and dark, the future so bright
The farm became mine when my father died
Then came the dry clime, lost all of my pride
Long years of hard graft while still holding trust
Til lack of good rain turned soil into dust
The bank took our farm, I wished I were dead
Dark thoughts of self harm flood into my head
But senses prevail, I see them so clear
My darling wife, my young son very dear
I give you my hand, long time cobber mine
Take care of this land, it’s your dreaming time
Adieu my friends, for my time here is done
I'll pray for you all as the drought rages on.
Sometimes The River is long
at places mighty deep
The currents not always steady,
into the ground, water will seep
Along the way the water rushes,
there's a need to hold it back
A dams not always foolproof,
sometimes it'll form a crack
The water will rise quickly,
over the banks it will flood
Tearing, ripping, and destroying,
causing destruction, spilling blood
To each person The River differs
With time, changes are made
The enemy can cause erosion
and the waters began to fade
Muddy with deceptive influence
or perfect clarity, to vision
How The River flows is ultimately,
each persons own decision
The River can be very short,
where it comes to an abrupt end
or it can form a tributary,
where a new life will begin
So, when you follow this river,
The River that we call "Life"
May your journey flow freely,
devoid of pain and strife
Don't let the water become polluted,
with corruption and decay
Live your life to the,
fullest every single day
"Kris Kringle Kisses Kalliope"
A Dream: the 4th Christmas.
deck the halls
with memories
poets whisper pasts
that are ne’er forgotten
where presents
a life
that’s neatly wrapped
and attempts at
frostily forgotten
tucked under
that big
beautiful
green fir tree
where all the dreams
of poets go
gold starred, tinselled
and angel mounted
ripe cherries
kissed
crassly
under mistletoe
Ah Christmas
capture me up
in your safe
magic arms
let me sip
the nectar from
your sweet eggnog cups
like Puck’s flower flows
on sultry lips
and eyelids
“love-in-idleness”
"The juice of it
on sleeping eyelids laid
will make man
or woman
madly dote
upon the next
live creature
that it sees”
poet or pup
crimson berries crushed
against a velvet tongue
bedazzled and
bewitched
fires crackling
logs like legs
drop and wrap around
the flames
while in my dreams
I await beneath
the sugar coated
blankets of a bed
charmed by snowflakes
dusting houses in a row
through misted windows
where “paper people....
dream
their cardboard dreams”
“how unreal
the whole thing seems
can we be living in a world
that is made of paper mache?
Everything is clean
and so neat
anything that is wrong
can be just swept away”
inside is very still...
not shaken
like a snowglobe -
surreal
damned be
the dams of
Love-in-Idleness
where eyes reflect
your shadow
in my dream
like opium smoke
across cracked glass
remember how we
all once were
some beautiful happy
if we could just pull the chord
so fresh out of ...
class
rewind our time
rewind it
to yesterday
like a toy
across the
ocean bobbing
like a buoy
an Iceberg keens and cries
Nutcracker twirls
Sugarplum
Kris Kringle Kisses
Kalliope
Oberon...
reals
Titania in
Slo mo’
Magic
mmm
Romance
lacy
frosty
melting
snow.
An iceberg cries
in time with
Christmas eyes
(LadyLabyrinth/ 2020)
“Paper Mache” / Dionne Warwick
https://youtu.be/85TK2Bia6w8
"There must have been some magic in
That old top hat they found
For when they placed it on his head
He began to dance around"
Art splashed upon naked walls
spilling life where water falls
dams shall break, setting free
a part of you, a part of me
Blues and reds and yellows blend
painting stories that'll never end
clouded magic becoming clear
inhibitions lain, drawing near
Blushed the light, furtive peeks
gentle strokes grace her cheeks
in vestal hands the palate pleads
crimson tincts that touch up needs
colored moments bleeding through
it's a part of me, it's a part of you