Best Escorted Poems
When sea gods invisibly show their glory
They’re escorted by their elusive sea army;
Vow before them, their loud rhapsodic chords play,
As heard in light of blue waves on summer day.
Marvelous army with mighty spiral swords
Hewed by sea gods, their magnificence- behold!
Their trimmed trident’s tines conjure like somersault,
Wish I'm sea god’s knight to ride on them and joust.
Coastal birds herald their rare presence with glee
With ineffable joy, breeze hums sweet ditty;
Surfs break in applause beneath the granite cliffs
As splendid narwhals’ display… nature breaths…sniffs~
Narwhals are great sea god’s mighty unicorns,
They’re special sea army, prides of Poseidon!
daylight hours
Ozzie and Ben at the picnic table
milkweeds dance across the board
chess match underway all day, every day
many stories shared, some repeated; neither cared
till knights and pawns cast long shadows
eyes straining, elders would bid farewell
violet sunsets escorted them home
one brisk morning, Ben waited for his friend
hours on end, until the orb began to sink
fading light from the spectral sunset
usher of regret
Ben sauntered past Ozzie's home
black wreath on the door
Ben cast chess pieces on the street
no longer wanted to compete
after that day, Ben’s zest for life faded away
sun still journeyed across the sky
but Ben rarely rose from bed
twilight hours found him there, recounting the past
tales he and Ozzie had told
in his mind never grew old
memories locked within his heart
shadowed recollections of a fallen chess king
For shame I write again
And indulge your memory
Doting on you baselessly,
As though you’re a man
For shame, I have no remedy
Because as a child, I could never know
And as I am, you couldn't trust my word
That I know you and I know hardship
Because while there was always milk for me
You are have always been
baking chocolate
And though I didn't know how unpleasant it would be
I faithfully escorted that dry dust to my mouth
Because you already owned me,
and my passion was arcane
I forfeited to you
To become fortitude, your stronghold
I gladly wed the night; I gladly wed your savagery
Soliloquies decorating the shrine in my heart
For you, my one good thing
I have no capacity to abandon
And I don’t know how to love conservatively
And as easy as spitting you out could be
I let you fester,
I let you make a home in me
But even now, I can still taste you in my mouth,
Where years should’ve made you disappear
And you’re nauseating
You’re the bitter product of bitter chocolate
I’m older now
and my youth won’t erase you
Nor passing moments, nor justified rage
And my heart is empty plastic
In my own hands
And you marauded me
I hate you more than there are words for
My resilience has long melted away
Yet you always have a hand on me
And I can’t make you leave
Eternal sunshine’s burning me
My lips remember, my lips grieve
For shame, I can’t forget you…
Mantis eyes magnetised her sister’s heart
felt its imprisoned glint of gold
willed it to enlarge into a
lotus leaf upon a sea
It floats on a lake of blood before
dawn turning hot burning blue
heat of her own blood
gold of her own heat
‘Let her not drown in
bloodied gold of red
running thick and deep’
So she murmured, so they did
To a shore of soft sand
Heart sailed escorted by
obsidian lidded dragons
gloomy gold unshackling
Guts, throat, tongue
puddle, pond, lake of
blood transmuted to turquoise
gold and blood morphing
Cupids created decoupage dishes
with bloodied dollars gold
called for another stint
to alchemise pentacles cold
_________________
PUBLISHED: Edge of Humanity Magazine
September 26
Paradise Psalms
Island drums midst strewn drafts, echoes,
Involved labyrinths summon by themes,
Some rhapsody erupts, purging rocks,
Every village, swelling amid chants,
Empty huts, crowds around fires,
Swayed hips, held lips sparks,
Duality exposed in harmony,
Illuminates isles inherent,
Entertaining charisma,
Captivating trusting,
Vessels in passing,
Amongst alluring,
Souls escorted,
To a dreamt,
Paradise.
ship swells midst idled
labyrinths heed gifted calls
answers anchored hearts
2020 June 25
POTD : 12.2.26
First Placing: Standard Contest
Sponsor : JCB Brul
Daisies could not bloom bound by debt of Time
we tried to unknot ropes tied across dimes
by deeds proceeding of their own accord
songs not written by either of us unfree
as white petals fell dropping one by one
Hours of tasting, smelling, touching lost
on battlefields, in barracks when away
you had to haste with epaulettes torn
I rooted a chasing escape, sweat dripping
tied to wheat fields watching babes chaste
Bald eagles soared above winelands stolen
gulls and albatross escorted galleon laden with longing ~ South to North, winds gushing
your wishes driven by wrenching penalties
seals then oceans carried lips and knees
Your breastbone turned from an unborn world
too pregnant in fluid womb of clocks chiming
fled you from aching loss of Love’s caged raging
stoic in withholding fist of sacrifice, away you got
drowning throbbing Heart in my own bleeding
_________________________________
Once upon a stranger,
a girl — a well-intentioned woman —
walked with an open soul,
her eyes silvered with withheld sighs.
Behind that quiet gaze,
a seraphic smile concealed its sorrow,
gleaming through daydreams,
as folk songs whispered of her tender defiance.
Once upon a moment,
I heard soft whispers fade —
inside a bus on a starry August night.
She rose to glimpse the world once more,
hope glimmering heavy in her eyes,
half in joy, half in fear.
Once upon what it seemed,
the empty streets turned mirrors —
cold storefronts, dim alleys.
By night she stumbled through silence,
by day she wore her wounds as armor,
wandering through the city’s dense forest
of unaccompanied paths.
An unchained soul, yet caged
by society’s ugly parodies —
cells built from shame and duty.
She pondered the dreams reality killed
as she passed through shanty streets,
escorted by echoes of laughter now gone.
Once again her hope returned:
to fill the void with beauty,
to rise above the dimmed faces of her class.
Her dreams, still burning,
to rekindle the lonely, to build what she was denied —
a quiet joy that glowed against despair.
Once upon a loop of forever after,
lamentations deepened.
Between forced vows and a fractured home,
she lived a life too succinct —
raped, abused, unseen.
Darkness grew familiar,
a slow descent into thoughts unspoken.
And her world took its turn —
the light grew distant,
and she folded into herself,
too late for prayers or wishing wells.
Once upon a stolen dream.
Once upon a neglected childhood.
Once upon a trembling womanhood.
Once upon time, and time again.
A bowed head,
seeking shelter from the tempest —
and as she lies on her five-foot mat,
deep in sleep where dreams unfold,
the queen rises once again,
seraphic and free
in her ultimate paradise.
‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust’
(No one is going to bust up MY insides,
sew my eyes and mouth shut,
drain my blood and pump me full of fluid
then seal me up in a concrete drawer)
Mama I was so young, so very young
So very young and so very curious
You were sitting in your favorite chair
I was sitting on the arm of your chair
”Mama what did they do to you in the hospital”
You parted your gown and I saw a flaming scar
Something was missing…
The lady with the bun on her head
came into the classroom with an apple
I was called out into the hall
The lady with the bun on her head
presented me with the apple
I said “Thank you for the apple”
She said, “You’re welcome son”
(Teacher had a grave look on her face,
shaking her head slightly and muttering)
The lady with the bun on her head said
“I need you to come with me son”
and escorted me outside
where our car was waiting;
grandma and grandpa in the front,
daddy in the back with my two brothers.
Daddy said with a wavering voice,
“Boys, your mother has gone to be with the Lord”
We rode home in silence…
They even had a dresser with a mirror
with plush carpet, end tables and lamps
in the room we were escorted to
They had you laid out in a bed
with the covers folded neatly down
but it was not really you…
Someone had made a copy of you
A life sized, porcelain doll image of you
Grandpa went over and reached down
“Look, she has her favorite earrings on
Doesn’t she look beautiful”
(Mama, I didn't think you looked beautiful at all)
I remember asking daddy, "Daddy, how come,
how come they gonna put mama in that drawer”
Mama I was so young, so very young
I was at the ideal age of six mama
Old enough to comprehend
but too young to understand
Old enough to hurt like hell
but too young to know why
I guess I miss you even now mama
Mama, I guess what I miss the most
is just growing up without you
and that you never said goodbye…
Oh mama...
don’t let them bust up my insides,
sew my eyes and mouth shut,
drain my blood and pump me full of fluid,
then seal me up in a concrete drawer
like they did you…
We loaded up for a Sunday drive
The Ozark Mountains were alive
Wild dogwoods of pink and white
Every shade of green in sight
Blooming jonquils and daffodils
Woodpeckers, blue jays, and whippoorwills
Even though the painting was unfinished
Nature's bounty was being replenished
On switchback mountain roads
Past gray bluffs where eagles abode
A long slow roller coaster ride
With buzzards feeding alongside
Headed to our favorite place
A canyon God's finger had traced
Where echos and memories yearn
Friendly fires cleanse and burn
The raccoons, the skunks and the deer
Cared less that we were here
A nervous lizard escorted us to the creek
Clear running ice water froze our feet
A white misty blanket of fog
Spread out for the picnicking frogs
The rocks played a gurgling tune
In the middle of Mother Nature's bedroom
Sitting under a cottonwood tree
It all comes back to me
Generations of family laughter
Roaring in the treetop rafters
I saw an old man with his two sons
In shadowed waters catching crawdads for fun
My children's voices heard in the wind
As they both were learning to swim
I started coming here at age five
We've camped here hundreds of times
Back then this water was deeper
Each year the stream grows weaker
But time's wind blows no weather vane
All around memories remain
I come here a lot to look
And color in my life's coloring book
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
The portrait of marriage a
Mosaic,
Made from hundreds of pieces,
Large and small but all of the
Same importance,
Together put
In
A masterful way for the desired outcome
To attain:
The completion of the portrayal of
A relationship, a life to last
Unfortunately,
No one has ever been blessed all
Pieces to amass
As
To perfection the given portrait to
Produce
For
Always some parts will be missing or
Not the desired ones would be in the
Right place
Thus
The portrait never gets done to
The artist’s complete satisfaction
However,
A good artist has to keep in mind the
Essential parts
That
Should never be missed from any mosaic
Of the sort:
Trust escorted by honesty
Selfishness coupled with admiration
Sensuality tied with affection
Love united with devotion
And
The X factor, that the majority never
Under consideration takes:
Synchronicity
For
Without it, all efforts will sooner or later,
Fail!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
08 OCTOBER 2014
For everyday since that meeting
He came back to peer within
And Myla had grown brave
And began to talk to him
To the voice he listened intently
Always wishing that she were real
For the times that were spent together
Gave a joy he could not conceal
The day of the celebration arrived
Myla nervous but practiced and sure
Her beauty no one could deny
And her heart shown so loving and pure
When the dance was over and done
The orchestra played on with delight
But this is where Myla was frightened
For she wanted to run and take flight
The crowd full of handsome, young gentlemen
That all stammered to have a try
To dance a dance with Princess Myla
All of them did vie
But Myla innocent and unknowing
Wanted simply to disappear
For dancing with a stranger
Had filled her thoroughly with fear
Her gaze was pointed downward
When she heard a voice that soothed
And when her eyes looked upon him
She smiled for him she knew
They looked deep into each other’s eyes
As if they had met before
But the young prince knew he had not
And escorted her toward the dance floor
He could not understand his emotion
The depth of which he felt
This girl that he had just met
Had totally made his heart melt
Then she spoke a word, just a whisper
And a knowing inside him did rise
This beauty that was also a princess
Was his maid of the waterfall in disguise
The dance seemed to last all night
For the rest of their lives they did twirl
For in the depths of this pond of water
This prince found not a maid but a pearl
Dedicated to Myla Sydnee Downs Perry a gem of a girl
we may have the blues
should stop then we will amuse
choose the proper shoes
read news page by page
when my bright mind may engage
could see cat in cage
constant covenant
good looks appeared prevalent
where ever she went
there had been much trash
we could see in Calabash
things may cost much and cash
saw pretty Persian
scattered in a dispersion
while on an excursion
had been escorted
became badly distorted
will be deported
I've searched nearby hillocks and sand.
They've gone missing sooner than late:
no wildflowers to perk barren land,
gypsy flowers by garden gate.
Where are those tiny violets
that snuggled closely to the ground;
yellows that smiled to all they met,
iris-hued daisies always found?
Blossoms dipped in a sunset's peach
once caressed my garden's rock wall.
And, tangled beside, in their reach
trumpet vines, crimson-red and tall.
Drought escorted seasons' changing,
yet we missed blossoms' frantic call.
This summer passed rearranging
joy with no wildflowers at all.
August 10, 2022
Been so lonely a long, long time
Cannot do it wrong, wrong time
So dazed and confused
That I feel slightly used
From some abuse I sustained long ago…
This could have made me go very slow…
Not on your life, I go very fast…
I want to get there, Don’t want to be last…
I was beat like a man by the time I was 5
It is a wonder that I came out alive
My grandmother died at the hands of this man
It is a cold case file so what’s the plan
I could never do what was done to me
Wanting my children to be wild and free
Live your life freely for you will know
To open your eyes and watch the show
I lived a life that was not for the meek
Scared for my life every day of the week
Once it was known what happened to me
My mom made it so we could be free
She was scared for her life as well you know
Now none of that matters we were able to go
Holding a knife to his greasy throat
She escorted him out to the dirty road
How lucky we are to be free
I sure am happy to be me
My children have children that make me smile
Think I will go run the miracle mile
From time immemorial,
Man has been on an audacious quest,
To unravel the mysteries of life!
Like a mirror that sends back the rays,
Falling on it, never letting them pass through,
Disabling us to see what lies at the other end,
We are hindered by a wall obstructing our perception,
Of things beyond our ephemeral existence.
When breaking the mirror, we will have clearer view,
Of truth that which lies at the other side
Don’t we feel restless even amid splendour,
With an overwhelming longing,
For something, we cannot name,
Like one so homesick with an insatiable thirst
For a home that lies beyond, but cannot see?
Does it not point to the Truth that death is not the end,
But the foundation for something new?
When our bodies are laid to rest,
How I like to think, our souls will be escorted,
By the angels of heaven, the messengers of love
Borne on a warm palanquin,
Made of soft wispy clouds,
Gliding through ether
Listening to lilting melodies,
And falling into a peaceful slumber,
To wake into an afterlife
Extending to countless eons
No more pain, no more suffering!
As blessed spirits, with all cravings stilled,
We will enter radiant,
Into the magnificent portals of heaven.
_______________________________
March. 11.2023
~ PLACED SECOND~
Break the Mirror Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Unseeking Seeker