Best Defiantly Poems
"Happiness and sorrow ebb and flow like waves upon a beach,
and I am but a grain of sand."
by poet
I think of myself as nothing more than a sunflower
who, at the hint of first light, turns to face due East
Respectful of dawn, through God's glorious power,
morning stirs my spiritual need, and upon it I feast.
It's not a shortcoming to be generous and humble,
nor a weakness in my character, a burden to bear.
I'm never too proud to ask for help when I stumble
for if I humbly ask for His hand, it will be there.
Defiantly, pride seems to take control before a fall
Arrogance is a foolish trait that becomes a liability
ending in dishonor when the foolhardy hit a wall.
Humility can be a saving grace; but not a disability.
I am just a tiny grain of sand, washed upon a beach,
a speck of dust on Earth, the size of a mustard seed.
I believe by being modest, happiness is in my reach
Content with what little I have, not tempted by greed.
Integrity is an admirable quality in an altruistic mind
Benevolence and compassion are gifts to be lauded
By living an unassuming life, my worth will be defined
without need to be rewarded, praised, or applauded.
November 3, 2021
Your Own Philosophy Statement Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Diminished by age, a weathered existence limps
Crutching dimmed vision and impaired limbs,
Much wiser that before, it speaks wisdom words
Entertaining grandkids in stories that enlighten,
Wishing the time to destiny would stop rushing
Reminiscing adoringly in yesteryears’ springs
As exuberance of yore in travails of life recedes,
Recalling seasons pristine, ravishing, blossoming
When youth ruled meadows of blazing revelry,
Reckoning lately though, how summer parches lilies
And winter freezes perishing autumnal leaves,
Unsure whether sunlit-dawn tomorrow brings,
If life’s graying themes can still invoke dreams~
As blunt reality confronts passions embellished.
Yet, life emulates pride of battered old oak tree
Mangled and broken, withering in gusty winds
But, standing steadfastly aiming for centuries
Rejoicing birds frolicking, concert of hatchlings,
And it too sways merrily ignoring bleak warnings
Beckoning alluringly reluctant, fading feelings
To tango in ballroom of life for yet one more spin,
Conjuring ancient images of renaissance in Italy~
The Colosseum, statues, galleries full of paintings
Pulsating forever, beyond bounds of mortality
Weathered, yet standing, as battered old oak tree
And aged-existence that defiantly keeps ticking.
November 24, 2021
Placed 2nd: “W” New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Weathered
Darkness Where Now Poe And Raven Reside,
(Part Two)
Song over, Poe told demon band to leave
And then pointed to the now empty stage
Wretched souls, look as thy lost spirit grieves
I present this new contest- all the rage
Blood and gore will flame your dark desires
Giving some respite from thy crying pleas
In dire conflict, comes death and fire
No weak romance, on love, birds and the bees
Suddenly cast there a hero alive!
In scant armor and flesh soaked in red blood
How this mere mortal had fought to survive
His legs covered in fresh, battlefield mud
Slow to rise, but so defiantly proud
His eyes gleaming with courage Heaven sent
Then yet another crash so very loud
From lightning, its power blasted and spent.
From that flash came a monstrous beast so great
With power from fangs and dagger-like claws
Dragon of massive scale, thick armor plate
Able to spew fire from massive jaws
At first glance it sighted the hero there
Bellowing out with its accursed breath
From thy flesh my claws will now rip and tear
Until that mortal body meets thy death.
Alas! Thy foul breath has no greater foe
Its effects are horrendous unto me...
Yet there is more than even you beast know-
Stronger are roots from my ancestral tree
Send forth thy evil, hottest flaming blast
As my great shield in its glory holds true
Thy fate, thy end has now came at long last
This brighter new dawn, shall be your end too!
Master Poe laughed with his booming voice
Stepping back, giving their battle more room
Announcing this is my gift, my first choice
Entertaining you, pleasure seeing sweet doom
This hero, with mercy I gave his shield
And his scant armor to give him a chance
Battling to the death, neither can yield
Here comes blood and guts, no feeble romance!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-30-2019
Dark Rhymes, ( As Raven And Poe Both Survive Below )
Part Two... Part Three to be written soon.
Syllables Per Line:
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables:400
Total # Words:306
Ambling in the charm of Tidal Basin
We hold hands with a lilac morning
Long before it pleads with the sunrise
To sparkle the view of a purple dawn
Saddled in the daze of hazy fog.
Strolling under gleam of a starry night
Along the trails of romantic banks
We handed the new-day to misty sight
Coating the blooms in lavender hues
Seducing the motifs love subscribes.
Dawning deterred by thick overcast
Defiantly rises on the golden skyline
Unwrapping monument's foggy attire
Shimmering beneath the lowly tides.
In awe of its luster we lose ourselves
Hanging on the vertex of rising flame
As a passionate kiss of avid romance
Attunes two hearts to infant-daybreak
And the horizon blushes end to end.
September 17, 2018
Poem of the day on September 19, 2018
Placed first in Late September Standard Contest by Brian Strand
NOTE:
Sunrise at the Tidal Basin in Washington D.C. The photo shows cherry blossoms with a purple tinge and the partially covered monument in early morning fog.
Scarecrow’s tattered clothes
Clever birds are never fooled
Sit defiantly
Arms of hay hold heckling birds
Eating the last grains of corn
Nature’s curtain falls
Vibrant leaves make no encore
Tumble to damp soil
Yellows and reds turn to brown
Trees’ skeletal limbs shudder
Fall’s first kiss of frost
Invades farmer’s pumpkin patch
Hardy fruit withstands
Trick-or-treaters carve faces
Jack-o-lanterns light doorsteps
Should I enhance my recognition
by defiantly treading on an innocent heart?
Or perhaps mine is a sin of omission,
fleeing with fame a la carte,
while thoughtlessly tearing another soul apart.
What reward can be found
as I stomp on another’s dreams,
leaving them quaking on the ground
where incivility screams
and not one ray of light beams?
Perhaps there is more joy in obscurity
than in fame that grows from ill roots.
Before me is an angel basking in purity
besieged by destructive brutes –
wolves dressed in lambs’ suits.
My soul will not let me go there –
to that place where evils dwell.
Entrust my fate to a prayer
that self-promoting acts cannot dispel
the eternal fires of an infamous hell.
*Written April 12, 2015, for Sheri’s “I, Icon” challenge
wave
after
wave
pounding
ruthlessly
against
Her
weary
jaded mind
defiantly
eroding
tattered
threads
of frail
sanity…
and yet...
She
clings to
hope
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Waltz Wave Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Placed 4th
© 14th March 2023
Her eyes are blind to all his lies,
excuses and false alibis
The woman cuddles, silently
beside her lover, brazenly
until dawn welcomes the sunrise.
She cannot see behind his guise,
the charade she'll come to despise.
Defending him, defiantly.
Her eyes are blind ~
One day it will be no surprise,
when the veil will fall from her eyes
but until that day, quietly
she lives unaware, piously
on knees, a slave never to rise.
Her eyes are blind ~
Encamped in the local IHOP patio
Doing reconnaissance on the butter pecan syrup
I discern its malicious, aggressive intentions:
To march defiantly down Mt. Stack
And wage a ruthless attack on
Defenseless over-easy eggs
Acting quickly, I wield my fork
Digging trenches in my pancakes
I flank the enemy, staving off
This unprovoked act of aggression
Victory!
Only in that moment do I lift my eyes and notice
A brood of young sparrows
heralding their hunger
The chevron of hang-gliding geese silently
sailing to destinations unknown
Majestic Monarchs flitting
stoically southward
And rival suitors:
An iridescent hummingbird and an industrious bee
Romantically pursuing myrtle blossoms
The canopy of cerulean blue
And all the life within its realm
Resolves my thoughts from war to peace
Note to self:
Don’t forget to look up
She sits alone..
Everyone has said their final goodbyes
To her husband of sixty some years
Her seven children have never known
Or at least never mentioned..
How she never smiled
Just day to day
Did her job
Like the old man said
Woman..
Bring me my......
Now there across the room
The forbidden..
His roll top desk
Head always hung low
Eyes never meeting his
She rises
Lifts her head
Approaches defiantly
Rolls back the heavy top
She's dusted a million times
She touches the things unfamiliar
Keys to the truck she never learned to drive
A checkbook she didn't know how to use
Legal papers she knew nothing about
His favorite cigarettes she couldn't smoke
His stash of booze she despised
Sat in the chair that was no longer HIS
Was this feeling loss?
7-29-2013
©Donna Jones
* For Carol Brown's Story Time Contest
Feathered serpent was more than an Aztec legend
Depicted in multihued native art
Sculptures, paintings adorned humid cities
Spiritual sketches messages impart
Quetzalcoatl, a venerated god
Plumed leader was said to have sailed away
Prophecies forecast this spirit’s return
Devout Aztecs’ hopes soared one Holy Thursday
The Aztec natives knew no greed
Great joy spread quickly in the Yucatan
When eleven Spanish ships reached their land
Not Quetzalcoatl, just a European man
Aztec leader Moctezuma II believed
Hernando Cortez to be their long-awaited god
At Moctezuma’s command, bounties were gathered
And to the shore, joyful natives did plod
1519, the Cortez armada
Greeted by Aztec envoys bearing gifts
But Spaniards fired shots at their welcoming party
Pious souls ascended through tropical mist
The land-grabbing perpetrator’s intent revealed
Aggression from one who sought to conquer
Paying no heed to Moctezuma’s beliefs
Or the spiritual history of Aztec culture
Ungodly Cortez enslaved those who remained
Defiantly built cathedrals adorned by bells
Aztec spirits will rise on Judgment Day
To claim seats in heaven while Cortez endures hell
If “gods” without honor lack kind hearts
And advocate power instead of grace
Promoting war and killing of brethren
Then surely devotion has been misplaced
*The arrival of Hernando Cortez marked the end of a thriving Aztec culture. The natives
mistook him for a “god” named Quetzalcoatl who had sailed away promising to return.
Quetzalcoatl is pronounced ket-zel-cot-el.
The words I hold back,
leaves painful bite marks
making my tongue bleed,
leaving my mouth full of blood.
With the pain being so unbearable,
I realize speaking my mind is less painful.
So I will no longer bite my tongue
I will say whatever's on my my mind
and let my words flow,
because I'm not here to be a people pleaser
and I'm defiantly not starting today.
I'll build a stairway to heavens gate,
Climb the spirals into the great divide.
There your name I'll defiantly state,
I'll wait until they let me come inside.
As I gallop along the streets of gold
Calling your precious name again,
Searching for your bear hug hold,
In my ears your voice a sweet refrain.
I'll search until your silver cloud I find
Until I hear your voice so deep.
Yet again I'll look into your face so kind
Searching for some words to keep.
For the days have been long and cold
Since you left and went away.
Warm embers of love to keep and hold,
Maybe they'll keep the grief at bay.
Muscles locked in agony
Every ligament burning
Pain flooding nerve endings
Labor
Heavy panting of breath
Heart pumping trying to keep up
Behind the canopy of human perception
Life and Death dance
On her knees pushing
Two women holding her
A third with hands out
Down, down . . . blood, sweat
Water – tears
A tearing and a swoosh
A boy, cover in blood
Cries into the wind
Life laughs with delight
Rachel in a panting whisper
Ben-Oni – his n a m
e
Dies
Death – laughs defiantly
Echoes across this luscious valley
Livestock pause from eating
Shepherds watch
Jacob climbs Migal Eder
Grief cries fill the valley
*** 1000 years later ******
A small wiry man from Moresheth
Deeply troubled
Spoke about justice
The coming of doom
But also of hope
Micah climbs – Migal Eder
Watchtower of the flock
Cries -- “Daughter of Zion”
Listen . . .
“Daughter of Jerusalem”
Hear my words
“Bethlehem Ephrathah
Small among the mighty clans of Judah
From within you
A ruler over Israel – a shepherd
From the beginning of days
Of ancient time
The restorer of Peace”
***** 700 years later ******
Too many people
No rooms
Tired, frustrated, worried
The pain . . .
Life and death begin to dance
She yells
J-O-S--E---P---H !!!!!
In the distance
A tower
Fire
“Hang on Mary”
Almost there
Panting prayer- Y a h w e h!!!
Father of this great hurt!
P – L – E – A – S – E
Release your son – NOW!!
Down
Upon her knees
A depression of earth
A pair of hands
Pushing with all her might
Gritted teeth, white lips pressed wide
A tearing of maidenhood
A breaching of flesh – blood burst forth
Within the blood – an infant
Relief
Cool air – Life dances upon the breeze
Death shaken, slinks away
Breast, milk, a swaddling
A mother’s love
Under Migal Eder
Watchtower of the Flock
Resting in a manger
Across the valley
A bright light
Music – “Glory to God in the highest . . .”
A new shepherd
A paschal lamb
J E S U S
Live and Love Generously
David Meade
12/19/2016
Abaft the beam the aberration spun
Below the turbid surface like a pearl
Commanding all attentions, overrun
Dissolving as colloidal midst the swirl
Encircled tons of matter as dissolved
Fierce vortices, toroidal in their whorl
Gesticulating with his mates, involved
Hypotheses suffused the captain's ire
Intense 'twas this anomaly, unsolved
Just as a jester moon dipped to retire
Kinetic phosphorescence flit the mast
Low on the mizzen, as St. Elmo's fire
Miraculous, a beam shone in its caste
Now tying ship to sea by water brake
On deck the crew were timidly aghast
Pervading all, their need to undertake
Quick means to thus escape adversity
Relinquishing to flee that eddy's wake
Surmising that the undertow would be
Too close to e'er escape its pearly skin
Unhesitant the captain plunged the sea
Virulent, boiled the brine, he in its spin
With sword held tight, defiantly above
Xiphoidals sliced the vortex from within
Yet with the ebbing sea his crew thereof
Zeus in his glory, never knew such love.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Quirky Tercets" Poetry Contest, Nina Parmenter, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Abecedarian Contest" Poetry Contest, Caren Krutsinger, Judge & Sponsor.
( This form is called "ABC" or "Abecedarian", and it's also an Epic Terza Rima in Iambic Pentameter, with 10 syllables/line, counted @ HowManySyllables.com )