Best Enjoined Poems
A poet's flowing poems uplift the souls
of men and sing of legends small and great,
of knights and lords, of fiefdoms, and of fate,
of kings, and pontiffs in ungodly roles!
Long, long ago, these popes, desiring control,
enjoined the knights to charge; and penetrate
their Christ's Jerusalem to decimate
the infidels and caliphs of dark Sheol!
When wanton rulers pillage and plunder, poets
write and sing of their great, immoral acts,
betrayals, carnage, and cabals; tho' it's
wiser to just ignore these damning facts,
let poets instead make them known, so it's
repaid by poetic justice's attacks.
Categories:
enjoined, betrayal, hate, poems, poets,
Form:
Italian Sonnet
Red of fire
Reddish fire in place of loins,
Fiery hell to thee enjoins,
Kundalini coiled it waits, until,
Opened doors the chakras willed,
Enjoined to feet of clay.
Orange door is very bright,
Growing larger orange sight,
Fill your mind yes until,
Strength of purpose is your will,
That’s right.
Yellow blossoms brightest day,
Cast the very blue away,
Brighter still to make you blink,
It be written, don’t let it shrink,
The spirit is in play.
Green of heart the healing mill,
Help your fellow man until,
The darkness gone, from night,
Lift spiritual from the blight,
enjoin the great God’s will.
Blue of throat the hearing feel,
Sound of others gone, revealed,
Light blue veil is unsealed,
Therein, within the night,
Hearing is our right.
Purple smoke the eyes beheld,
Image seen, ding dong the bells,
Danger comes as seen ther-in,
In the purple flashes dim,
It is your birthright.
Kundalini seeks the light,
From top of head a glowing white,
Understanding fruit of gall,
Aura glowing nine feet tall,
A spiritual delight.
We do have these swirling chakras,
these spiritual devices…
Don Johnson
Categories:
enjoined, adventure, blue, spiritual,
Form:
Ballad
We have moved to higher Grounds.
The ridge enclave in mist and cold
Sight is poor as in jackets we fold
Peering below at the stagnant pools
-Covering to brim our hoeing tools.
Ink that was too thick is diluted
Scribbling leaves with water polluted
We’ve moved to scribble on the higher rocks
We’ve move away from the flooding docks
The streets are full of my works I never sold
Stories I thought will never be told
Only, I had already told them and someone else was bold
No- bolder than I ever were my dreams to uphold.
And now these earthquakes has also robbed me
Stolen the duet written by Maya and me
It has rolled and warped it in earths bare dust
Maya thinks I betrayed her most treasured trust.
And so when we couldn’t stand the waters flowing
When into our warm beds the stream came rushing
We took our feet and mind and our family of poets
And moved to higher grounds, we live again as cave poets.
We scribble in the darkest night
With splinters red enough to glow morsel light
We remember the glow of a car parking light
And we press the ochre harder, lips held tight.
We write on the rough walls of our refuge cave
Writing poetry in coded images of flower and dove
We write our fury in dark wooden coal,
-And happiness in a picture of an owl school.
Our hearts have enjoined from its broken bounds
But we still remember with the scariest, loudest heart pounds
And still we write up-up the filling rocks. Filled with words
-Words about the higher grounds and the flooded grounds.
The rocks floods with sentiments of frustration
-of the sired generation now lost in the canyon
-age has caught up to us and the cave is dripping with poetry
-so we pick a box of special pen and one or two poultry
-and we move to higher grounds.
Where the rocks are clean and caves are darker and empty
Categories:
enjoined, change, imagination, poets,
Form:
Rhyme
Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
A willing victim to time’s soft crust
Dulled sergeant stripes lay on the floor
Fading remnants from a worldly war
This old, now lifeless, bricked in room
Is now but a capsule, her timeless tomb
Her future and dreams enjoined in fight
It's here she threaded her rifle each night
The war years seemed like only yesterday
Still, both them and her have gone away
Yet here in this room Mom's candle does glow
It's here in this room she labored so
Her faint initials still etched in the rust
Beside her machine she is frozen in dust
That wonderful lady and her vanishing mark
The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark
Categories:
enjoined, allusion,
Form:
Rhyme
The current President, Donald Trump, launched his 2016 presidential campaign on June 16, 2015. One by one his opponents fell by the wayside, and the nomination was all but decided by summer. The following is an exert from a letter I wrote to Donald Trump in October of 2016:
"I chose not to watch the final debate because I felt it would be too painful to watch two Americans hurt each other needlessly. Also, by then, there was nothing more that I needed to know."
Though I did not inform him in that letter, I had already cast my ballot for him, and expected him to win but not by such margins. I expected that when in office he would be opposed and unsupported by liberals, progressives, and some well-established members of his own party, but not by such hatred and viciousness. I do not agree with everything President Trump does nor with every move he makes, but give me a break, do we really want to destroy this great country?
I opposed most of President Obama's policies, but not everything, and I would never consider personal attacks but attacks on principles. Civil unrest cannot be avoided in a Democratic Republic, and family fights are understandable. But danger zones are created when families become dysfunctional, and when nations and governments lose the inner core of their founding principles, there is little to no recourse. Nevertheless, 'trumpets' are resounding around the world, but only God knows if other instruments will be enjoined to create a symphony.
02182019PoSoupContest, Poetry Marathon 19, Mark Toney
Categories:
enjoined, america, leadership, presidents day,
Form:
Prose
A boy and a girl in love,
hugging beneath starlit trees,
like spirits enjoined by God,
race to forever.
Shadows moving like the wind
decorate the ground with shapes
dancing beneath the moonlight
silhouettes of trees.
Branches twisted together
awakening the sunlight
sparkling like young lovers
embracing their lives.
© February 20, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Categories:
enjoined, life, love, nature,
Form:
Dodoitsu
I am the light now come into the world.
Whoever follows keeps me in his sight,
Thus has the light that shines, the life within;
The darkness does not overcome the light.
Whoever comes will hunger nevermore;
This manna's sweetened with a bit of leaven.
For whoever believes shall never thirst;
I am the bread of life come down from heaven.
Your much-loved father, Abraham, rejoiced,
Was glad to know that he would see my day,
For before Abraham was, yet I am:
Eternal, ageless, same as yesterday.
No one comes to the Father but through me;
I am the way, the truth, the life of men.
If you had known me, you would know him too;
And now you know and also have seen him.
I am the door; I am the narrow gate,
And those who enter find a pasture fair.
The thief just comes to steal, destroy, and kill;
I came for life abundant and to spare!
I am the shepherd who lays down his life,
Unlike the hired hand, these lambs, my own.
I know the wolf has come to scatter them;
To find the lost, I'll leave no unturned stone.
I know my own; my own also know me,
And sheep not of this fold likewise, my voice.
The Father knows I'd die to save his sheep;
I lay my life down, take it up by choice.
My Father dresses; I am the true vine.
Abide in me; apart, all growth will cease.
He takes away the ones that will not bloom;
Fruit-bearing branches, prunes, so they increase.
I am the resurrection and the life;
He who believes in me, although he dies,
Again shall live, and in abundance now.
Through faith, enjoined with me, the dead shall rise.
The light, the bread, the way, the truth, the life,
The gate, the vine, the shepherd from above:
These give an understanding of the Son,
But most of all, he's God's great gift of love.
Categories:
enjoined, jesus,
Form:
Rhyme
Not judged in reference
kindred spirits they dance
The words once they’re spoken
notes and palettes enhanced
The music enlivens
what phrases will say
While a painting embodies
what verse can convey
And the only conflict
is in the critics eye
Who sees not the harmony
but comparisons lie
As all art travels skyward
enjoined hand in hand
To the source of its power
—where together they stand
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Categories:
enjoined, art,
Form:
Rhyme
Words on a page, sounds, Mother's calling
soft tones rose from leather tomes sweetly,
through rouged lips they tumble with love.
Lullabies call through the coldest of nights
as frost haloes about the curls, open-hearted,
eager, a child of contested love’s joining.
What would this chimera become now joined.
Oh what would be the result of this clarion call?
Angels wonder at the blend of unformed heart,
as words of Our Fathers resound so sweet
for the thrice kissed lips of child and overbearing night.
May all who come from the light delight in love.
May the child addressed bring comfort, bring love,
grow in service to the higher good and join
the wholesome hearts who warm the darkest night,
for bringing comfort, kindness, and caring is a calling,
which teaches every opened soul of sweetness
and heals the aching angry sores of forlorn hearts.
With words of joy, and a voice full of heart
let her hands touch, and sooth, each pain lovingly,
with the like-minded teachers and nurses sweetening
the balm smoothed upon the brow of man, enjoined
to heed the call, the ancient ever-present call
of majesty in morning and peaceful rest at night.
Each life presents its morning and ends in eternal night.
Each soul stores fonts of happiness and heartache.
Conception buds and blooms, sending out a clarion call
enjoining all who have the healing gift to garner love.
Gentle ones, who plant the seeds, tend the hearts join…
be the humble gardeners of the meek and sweet.
What task could be richer or path sweeter
than that of those who doctor, and nurse, and warm night?
Tender hearts and helping hands come together, join…
in the higher consciousness of he’s and she’s heartfelt.
Raise the banner; fly the unifying flag of healing love,
make this your onward path the Way, the Red Road your calling.
For what is sweeter day or night for each are joined,
heartily we love and live to heed these fine callings.
Categories:
enjoined, child, faith, hope, morning,
Form:
Sestina
Thou art enjoined to enjoyment,
Exhorted to exultation.
Thy responsibility is to be responsive,
and impishness be thy imperative.
So cherish thy good cheer,
And be not judicious in jubilation –
Rather exude exuberance,
For to revel is a revelation, and
It is on pain of death that
That thou art commanded to Live!
Categories:
enjoined, blessing, inspiration, inspirational,
Form:
Alliteration
Timeless Reunions
by Odin Roark
Regret mingled with other flotsam,
Longing found a corner and wondered,
Mistakes were numerous, all grinning confidently.
Knee jerks were like always,
Their passion without reason at the ready.
What an affair,
This reunion to end all reunions.
He had made himself the center of attention long enough.
His ego-mirror was worn and beginning to blur.
It was time, he knew.
After all, everything and everyone
Had sent him an invitation.
So…
Applauding disappointments,
Thanking them for introducing him to paradox,
He next shook hands with injustice,
Thankful he’d avoided its wrathful guillotine.
Gifting a wink to fate hovering overhead.
Spotting modesty and humble keeping to themselves,
He enjoined them with some bubbly,
Toasting them for their perseverance
And apologizing for not being more attentive.
As the night grew long,
He continued looking for love.
He knew its nature well,
Having often experienced Tennyson’s maxim:
‘Better to have loved and lost,
Than to have not loved at all.’
Still…
There seemed little tenure left
Before time would…
And there She was.
There He was.
There it All was.
Love’s state of being
The reflection of semblance
He’d heard so much about,
Tried so hard to find and hold onto.
His dance card remained full for the night,
As he spun through his illusions one last time
Before dawn broke and the bright light embraced him,
Guiding him to the other side
Where further trials and errors for celebration
Were waiting.
He smiled.
Categories:
enjoined, imagination,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Finding Home
by Odin Roark
So temporary
Earth's tabled destiny
The shifting tectonics of time
only know continuous evolution
rendering today's attachment
but tomorrow's adjusted divide
Most sense not
when disturbance begins
when spilled milk begins to teach
when failure signals wisdom
From cradle to grave
conditioning grows unabated
advancing through
preschool
elementary
middle
high
higher
finally granting
one's very own onion skin
reality's tenuous admission ticket
Perfect job
Do this
Lose that
Perfect relationship
Enjoined
Divorced
Unexpected seismic shifts erupt
innate calculations run asunder
passion's molten flow
fuses heart and mind
Eternity awaits
shackles melt free
unhappiness exits
flames cleanse bodily disease
Atop etheric wonder
smoke and cloud
transport ecstasy's confetti
seeking the first breeze to nowhere
the embracing calm of everywhere
Here
Existence sans time
day and night merge
with all that
was
is
and
will
ever
be
Welcome home
Categories:
enjoined, hope,
Form:
Free verse
Introduction
From the city on the river
Where the Sage of Monticello
And the Great Emancipator
Birthed the country, saved the nation,
Sounds a call for civil discord
In the service of ambition
From a man whose God is power,
And his name is Demagogia.
Gathering Storm
To the banner flock his minions:
Come the vengeful, the nostalgists,
Come the dreamers and the zealots,
Come the heedless disaffected;
All these factions so enchanted
By the whimsies of the Leader
Who vows naught but boundless warrant,
All objections notwithstanding.
Marching Orders
Demagogia tells his vassals
That the ones arrayed against him
Are ignoble, quite unworthy,
And must not be given quarter
When the battle is enjoined.
‘’Lay aside all thoughts of honor:
Smear their people, smear their children,
Plough and salt their reputations.’’
Engagement
In the cities, in the hamlets,
Over air waves, on the WorldWide,
Campaigns combat, hot and savage,
Demagogia as the dark horse;
So much riding on the outcome,
Which determines if his vision
Is a dream cut short by waking.
Or a nightmare neverending.
Forewarning
When it’s settled, morning after,
Demagogia stands triumphant,
Savoring the prize he's conjured,
Casts a baleful eye about him,
Smiles grimly, mutters darkly:
‘’Now be fearful, non-believers;
Like the Phoenix, rising, rising
From the flame pit, from the ashes . . .’’
2/21/2016
(Poem Written in Anger Contest)
Explanatory note:
“Song of Demagogia” is a mimic poem of Longfellow’s celebrated “Song of Hiawatha.” Definitions are fluid, but it is not, strictly speaking, a parody.
Neither is it a thinly disguised attack on any politician in office or running for office. Rather, it was conceived in anger at the devolution of our political culture in recent years and what that may portend for this country down the road.
Categories:
enjoined, anger, conflict, future, leadership,
Form:
Free verse
Memory’s Shadow
by Odin Roark
There was a time
She’d float beside him
Their footsteps in sync
Their heartbeats in unison
Even at midnight
Central Park imbued their love
With colors and honeysuckle fragrance
Lake’s shimmering moon-mirror
Sending ripples through enjoined hands
But oh the face
She knew not a grimace
Nor any sadness
Her smile
Hope’s subtlety
Passion’s caretaker
Time passed
Clouded skies
Like cataracts of mind
Faded that lovely face
Their fantasy stroll
Became but silhouette
And still…
A bench remained
To sit
Dream
Listen to each other’s breath
While rustling leaves
Drifted away
Seasons passed
Strolls became nurse-chaperoned
Movement by wheelchair
Breath by oxy-caddy
His bench still stands
Warm to the touch
His nurse always stops for him to listen
As memory’s shadow whispers
“May I hold your hand?”
Categories:
enjoined, memory,
Form:
Free verse
(22) And the pangs of childbirth drove her unto the trunk of the palm-tree. She said: Oh, would that I had died ere this and had become a thing of naught, forgotten! (23) Then (one) cried unto her from below her, saying: Grieve not! Thy Lord hath placed a rivulet beneath thee, (24) And shake the trunk of the palm-tree toward thee, thou wilt cause ripe dates to fall upon thee. (25) So eat and drink and be consoled. And if thou meetest any mortal, say: Lo! I have vowed a fast unto the Beneficent, and may not speak this day to any mortal. (26) Then she brought him to her own folk, carrying him. They said: O Mary! Thou hast come with an amazing thing. (27) O sister of Aaron! Thy father was not a wicked man nor was thy mother a harlot. (28) Then she pointed to him. They said: How can we talk to one who is in the cradle, a young boy? (29) He spake: Lo! I am the slave of Allah. He hath given me the Scripture and hath appointed me a Prophet, (30) And hath made me blessed wheresoever I may be, and hath enjoined upon me prayer and almsgiving so long as I remain alive, (31) And (hath made me) dutiful toward her who bore me, and hath not made me arrogant, unblest. (32) Peace on me the day I was born, and the day I die, and the day I shall be raised alive! (33) Such was Jesus, son of Mary: (this is) a statement of the truth concerning which they doubt. (34) It befitteth not (the Majesty of) Allah that He should take unto Himself a son. Glory be to Him! When He decreeth a thing, He saith unto it only: Be! and it is. (35) And lo! Allah is my Lord and your Lord. So serve Him. That is the right path. (36)The sects among them differ: but woe unto the disbelievers from the meeting of an awful Day. (37) How well they hear and see and hear them on the Day they come unto Us! yet the evil-doers are to-day in error manifest. (38) And warn them of the Day of anguish when the case hath been decided. Now they are in a state of carelessness, and they believe not. (39) Lo! We Only, We inherit the earth and all who are thereon, and unto Us they are returned. (40) And make mention (O Muhammad) in the Scripture of Abraham. Lo! he was a saint, a prophet. (41)When he said unto his father: O my father! Why worshippest thou that which heareth not nor seeth, nor can in aught avail thee?
For more information please visit:
http://www.quranexplorer.com/quran/
Categories:
enjoined, hope, religion, religious, day,
Form:
Verse