Best Eighth Poems
Maidens, bloody maidens, I had me six of ‘em wenches, ye knowest
Fullsome Catherine of Aragon wrought havoc ‘tween me and the Pope
Besought a divorce, split from the church whilst Anne Boleyn caught mine eye
'Twas beheaded whenst in ‘er capacity to produce a male heir I lost hope
Mine affection waxed for Jane Seymour; I beseeched ‘er t’ marry me
Anne’s body not yet cold in the ground whenst Jane became mine queen
But after giving me a son, Jane withered, twas gone in two weeks
For ‘er I mourned two years, afore proposing to Anne of Cleves
Ye knowest this “Flanders Mare” twas not suited for mine royal court
Nay, ‘er domestic skills tweren’t becoming of a stately king’s wife
At mine auld age of 49, I grew enamored of young Kathryn Howard
She but 19 when I divorced Anne and beseeched ‘er t’ share mine life
But Kathryn had eyes for other blokes, made me look like a pompous joke
"Thou dost not deserve thine title," I declared, had ‘er executed
Twice widowed at the age of 31, Katherine Parr I settled for
This wench cared for me as I grew ill, thus is undisputed
Prithee t’ see after six attempts, I finally met mine match
Katherine inherited mine throne once mine body twas laid t’ rest
From heaven I look back fondly at mine spirited days of yore
Knowing that in a regal sense mine first wife twas truly mine best
* For Lisa Cooper’s “I Want Some Old English Scandal” contest
The sledding and the skating in ‘63;
the sugar cookies frosted green and red;
the stringing popcorn with my family
and going anxiously that Eve to bed.
The gift exchange when relatives would meet.
Some traveled far to Grandma's little town.
The feast and seeing cousins, such a treat!
We stayed and played until the sun went down.
The program at our church where all took part.
Our flock was small but talent did not lack.
The joyous songs; before we would depart;
the glorious sweets dispensed from Santa's sack!
No holiday to come could be as dear
as when I was a child in my eighth year!
Once there were two writer friends Wallace and Cooper.
Into novelization of the original King Kong film, no souper.
“Edgar Wallace didn't write any of Kong, not one bloody word...
I'd promised him credit and so I gave it to him” Cooper’s word
Bloody, informal discussions do worth acknowledgement Cooper!
Henry the Eighth,
A tempestuous Tudor Prince,
Six marriages,
All doomed to toss in the sea of fate.
The fair Spanish princess was first,
Wedded to the King of England,
She died alone and rejected,
Shut out of the warmth of his heart.
The temptress cometh,
A dark English maiden,
Seductively beautiful,
Her hold cannot last,
The tide swelled against her,
No male heir for England,
A silver sword stole her life.
Beautiful, far and modest,
Another English maid,
Destined to be the third Queen of England,
Succeeded where others couldn't
A son was born,
A mother and Queen fell,
Her shadow lingers in the palace still.
Fourth in line a German princess,
A Flander’s Mare the King pronounced,
Displeasing to his eye,
A marriage crumbles,
She lives to see another day.
A mischievous sprite,
Captures the eye of a King,
A voracious flirt,
She lost her head,
A fateful lesson learned and,
Paid for with her life.
Last in line,
A sweet and gentle woman,
She nursed him to the end.
His last breath was drawn,
A life snuffed out.
She lives to see,
His children inherit
A turbulent throne.
First the precious Prince Edward,
Then Bloody Mary,
Last in line- the Virgin Queen- Elizabeth.
1960 and the world was changing
A time for living and rearranging
Baseball in the school yard with a sponge ball and a fist
Donnie Brooks sang Mission Bell and Chubby did The Twist
Bobbie sox and ponytails, school dances were so much fun
Johnny Preston’s Running Bear. I loved the theme from Peter Gunn
A young senator from Boston was in the presidential race
Marty sang El Paso and there was a theme from A Summer Place
Mr. Custer and Alley Oop were fun songs to listen to
While Elvis said It’s Now or Never and also Stuck on You
Ford came out with the Edsel. Remember the unsinkable Molly Brown.
Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool even Cathy’s Clown
We had air raid warnings and marbles in our pockets
Movies in the park and Cape Canaveral shooting rockets
Gable and Monroe in the Misfits, Perry Mason on TV
And the Drifters were singing Save the Last Dance for Me.
There was a draft to serve our country and we were always ready
A time for holding hands and a time for going steady
Kirk Douglas was Spartacus and Burt was Elmer Gantry
Pies were made from scratch and there were apples in the pantry
Larry Hall sang Sandy and Bobby Rydell wailed Wild One
O Dio Mio From Annette. She and Frankie had so much fun
Lonely Blue Boy by Conway Twitty and Bobby’s Beyond the Sea
Duane twanged Because they’re Young and the Everly’s Let it be Me
Those days are precious memories that I hope will never fade
The world was so much kinder then and I was in eighth grade.
'Enry The Eighth 'ad voracious sex drives
'Istory records that 'e wed six wives
Cathy and Anne lost their 'eads
A couple died in their beds
So many I'm in awe a man survives
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Climbing from her escapism's, evanescent pool; love's predicate...
Figure skating of dreams, infinite; timeless, Hollywood's paper doll ?
Fete fete's parquet circles; abstract evolutions ex de facto; abtruse comets
Her beauty's evening star ? An epoch; fantasia's zephyr winds; parabolic these doors
Celestial's sphere sunset's skies; axioms ignis fatuus ? Fandom's fluttering wings..
Spawned their pure white dove; solitary, blue canopy her flight ? Carte blanche scarlet, tears.
" Scream, Ann, scream! Scream like you've never screamed before!"
I saw their eyes, wide like turkey eggs
for his bombast had provided us sneers.
Just what is it he expects her to see
that would leave her shaking, in tears?
" Have any of you ever heard of..Kong?"
There it is! This is it! The man's a fool!
He's off for a film so they'll be thrilled!
This ship is a tramp, not proper or trim.
He'll wind up getting all of us killed.
" All hands on Deck! All Hands on Deck!"
She's gone! Oh my God! She's gone!
Now what do we do? Hand out the guns!
Is there enough bullets for them all?
I still wonder: are we the only ones?
" Come on! Who's going with me?!!"
I can't believe the size of it! The size!!
It's a mirage! It must be a nightmare!
It's carried her off out in that jungle!
My hands feel cold. We'd better beware.
I might be lucky. I'm staying behind.
I shot it. I know I did!
" I tell you, skipper, this Kong is as big as a house!"
I slip up by Denhams' side to hear about
Kong and these dragons and there's more!
I thought those things were dead and gone
Suppose one of them comes to this door?
" Kong's Coming! Kong! Kong!"
I heard the gong! Oh my God! It's Kong!
He followed Driscoll and Ann right here.
We've taken up arms! We've bolted the door!
I wish I could be somewhere and not here.
He's In! He's Loose! Run! Run!
EXPLOSION! I turn
Kong stops. He staggers.
He's down.
I hear Denham shout:
" Come On. I Got Him!
We'll teach him fear! We're millionaires, boys!
Kong! The EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD!"
I never slept all those weeks back.
Gunshots and whips from the hold
It's a mistake to bring this thing back.
Denham is foolish and brazen and bold.
EPILOGUE:
I shipped out right after we docked.
I pour another shot, look out to the sea.
The mate just told me the news
over the wireless:
Kong is loose in New York.
I wonder where Denham is...
Child of the 8th generation;
I do not know your names.
I think of you so often;
And hang my head in shame.
There will be no fresh water;
no parks in which you play.
The air will be polluted;
We've thrown your future away.
You will not hear the birds;
singing from your morning bed.
The flowers will not bloom;
All natural life will be dead.
My generation didn't care;
enough to preserve our Earth.
You will inherit sorrows;
from the time of your birth.
I am sorry wee ones;
My heart cries tears for those.
Who will be born into a world;
where only greed does grow.
Darlene Doll Smith
Bronze refulgence heats
womb waters to expel their
Crusted eggs of bone.
Even...
... if learning something new
is still important for you
... if you've learned
a new language
... if you've become a learned
member of the community
don't forget to learn to listen
to those who haven't understood
... you
On the Eighth Day ……… Peter Onyancha
And on the Eighth day
He created Hell
He looked at it
And said, it was good
It was good for good
Good for them!
Dry Your Eyes, Bona-Fide Floods Are Not Dry
Roots dig deep, the virtue of truth grows roots
Nights of wantonness; praying thru the night
Fruits of my labors, deeds inside my fruit
Light make it bright; my soul's abundant light
Dreams are my needs, where are my promised dreams?
Creation lost life; where is creation?
Seems like life has no words; no love it seems
Nations can't see my hopes for the nations
Soul of the nations; where are the lost soul?
Fire, the great divide, walked thru the fire
Scrolls of my soul; why did you hide my scrolls?
Aspire ambitious love; plan to aspire
Why life is, what it is; did pride say why?
Dry your eyes, bona-fide floods are not dry.
© 2015 DiLinda A. Adams, All Rights Reserved.
Eighth Shadow Sonnet Challenge! – Please join me. Poems should rhyme, and have an 10 syllable count and 14 lines to meet the challenge. However, if you just want to be creative please do so.
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November Eighth Election Day
By Franklin Price
11/8/2016
November eighth election day
The end is finally here
To the dirtiest campaigning
Ever run for most the year
Both parties were ferocious
In pursuing president
If they could go a darker place
That's exactly where they went
No subject was verbotten
Whether truth or outright lie
I was so much shocked and awed
Should I laugh or should I cry?
Those days are now behind us
The polls will open soon
With voters waiting at the door
To cast the liar or buffoon
Hate to have to say it
But that is what they are
After you have cast your vote
I'll meet you at the bar
We'll drink the voting day away
We will have done our civil right
Voted who we thought was best
Now we'll drink into the night
Watching TV's first returns
And the exit polling views
Broadcasting and predicting
We may believe it if choose
It is not over 'til it's over
'Til the final vote is cast
Don't let the pundits keep you home
Go 'til the polls are closed at last
No matter who the winner is
The liar or buffoon
We voted, did our duty
The end results apparent soon
When the winner takes the office
And becomes our president
It will soon become quite evident
If our vote was rightly spent
You have gone a mile,
The eight years apart,
They Sound like million on hearts,
We believe you are there,
Spending your time with God,
And reminds him about us.
Well….!
We all have missed you,
Even Gideon the little brother,
Though haven’t seen you by eyes,
Asks us when you will be back.
Ayub the little but one,
Have missed the great moments,
Of evening walks with banana fruits,
Clara and Romward,
Are now schooling.
Samuel and Vincent speak about you,
As Michael and Teddy keep on praying for.
Here are Peter and Lucas,
The first top brothers,
With the help of God,
They drive the vessel…!
Your lovely Chuma,
Always remembers your wishes,
They keep her strong each day,
While heading to defeating Madiba’s LE.
Pray for us dad!
Don’t forget to ask God,
When is our reunion?
Thanks Dad and Bye!
@your eighth anniversary
17 -02-2014