Best Et Poems
Et Portæ Inferi Non Valebit
(And the gates of hell will not prevail)
Gates of Hell shall never ever prevail
promulgation of Truth forever stands.
Soul and Spirit each rings a sounding bell
Fate's ruthless results judges all the lands.
Vanities of all men foolishly praised
Spirit's dark desires bearing bitter fruit.
Rejection of He that was truly raised
lies and corruption are the stolen loot.
Righteous hearts look to Heavenly skies
sincere prayers, deliver such bless reward.
Mankind races onward using blinded eyes
to an ending very bitter and hard.
In the dark shadow of this evil world.
Our Creator's redemption has been hurled!
Robert J. Lindley, 10-11-2014
Sonnet:
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 93
Caput et Versus
Many a saga have been written....................
*Link in notes to see complete poem
He promised me i would not die
As I’d been forced to live
He promised me I would not cry
And his heart he would give
And now its summed up in a sigh
The sorrow and the pain
No more will I be placed on high
Just caught up in a game
A game that is so deadly
It leaves you mortified
And that’s when you realise
There’s nowhere left to hide
Then they kill you with the rumours
And beat you with the lies
There's nowhere left to run now
You're not wanted when love dies.
After all the waiting
So loyal was my love
All I’ve been is just a fool
Sent from up above.
I once thought i was special
But they’ve destroyed that thought
Now I feel like nothing
For everyone’s been bought
‘What light through yonder window breaks.’
(Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2)
I see a strange light outside my window~ ET never did make it home
There is a devil they call Jealousy,
he hides behind many faces you see:
One is driven to envy,
the next gets so haughty;
and the other's made childishly bitchy.
There is a demon tormentedly jealous,
his ways that beguile are insidious.
His wrath knows no bounds,
he’ll destroy those around;
his words aimed to hurt and quite callous.
To one I give warning, still with some grace,
the Jealousy devil who wears poet’s face:
Enough with your thievery
of fine prose and poetry;
your plagiarized poems do not deserve space!
04 September 2015
SKAT A's Jealousy Contest
She Walks
With
The sun,
Like a sunflower.
The sweet neck of her life came adorned with dazzling jewels of the ages;
jewels imbued with holy virtues, long before she was born.
She rose, alone, Venus veiled above a sparkling sea,
her love light flashing wherever she gazed.
As she spun her cosmic spiral, a tiger, hungry with anger and bitterness,
tore at the veil, hoping to claim victory—fire and passion.
Each time she dipped her head, trying to free herself from the ships of ancient
torments that lay anchored at her throat, the tiger roared for more,
devouring jewel upon jewel—fire upon fire, passion upon passion.
She lay, alone, her carotid adornment shortened by the tiger’s every move,
her virtues struck down until she was left grasping at a choker
‘round her throat, her life soon to end.
Then, in the billowing clouds of her torment, she saw Diana rising from the sea.
She stood on an iridescent ivory shell, her arrow poised to strike.
The tiger raged, but could not pierce the clouds.
A red fury filled with fire and passion shot from its hell-born eyes;
its massive jaws spewed hot saliva that set the sea on fire.
The sea itself cried out, “Golden Diana, make your arrow swift and sure;
the world in Venus is quickly fading.
Strike now, the tiger, and restore all aright!”
Even while the prayer was being uttered,
Diana’s aim proved its power as the arrow found the tiger’s heart.
In a flash, Venus was restored,
her long strand of jewels aglow,
the tiger at her side.
Together they stood in a deep, iridescent ivory shell
and made their way out to sea
with a wind that was sure and true.
All was set aright. All was free
as they sailed into the rising moon,
her Venus jewels lighting the way.
Written in contemplation of Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a
Pomegranate, One Second before Awakening, by Salvador Dali. (1944)
Post coitum omne animal triste est,
sive gallus et mulier*
Yes, no cockerel who rules the cackling roost
Will stomach slander from Latin master;
But who will stand aside and let the ghost
Of hints slur old motherhood’s register.
Manhood must of needs hang its head in pain
After all the sweat and toil in loins of love;
After millions of squiggly soldiers in vain
Drop their lean tails at the egg wall alcove.
Only the fool who dares call woman’s bluff
Shall learn hard way positions in bedstead;
Virile pride will sink in the depths of fluff
While smooth gym-trained muscles rage instead.
As they say hereabouts sur le vieil Continent
La différence, Mon Sieur: lip’s shade content.
· * “After the sexual encounter every animal is
grief-stricken,
excepting the cock and the woman.”
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2005-2012. From the collection:
Poems Omega Plus, 2005. Rev. 2012.
Social media
Endless lists of so-called friends
Who have never met
I came I saw I conquered you blundered
sooth said to Caesar
sire beware the Ides of March-
assassins martyr'd
Constance, this is a song with dance that we as children use
to sing and dance to the “Ring Around The Rosie’ game. I wrote
This poem(SONG) using Nette‘s: ALOUETTE meter and rhyme scheme.
Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7
Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b
"RING AROUND THE ROS-IE, AL-OU-ET-TE"
~Ring around the rose...
Bugs flew up my nose...
“STOCKIN FEET…AL-OU-ET-TE“
~Dancing in moon light...
Yes with all our might...
"AL-OU-ET-TE…I CAN‘T SEE”
~Fireflies to and fro,
Emits awesome glow,
“AL-OU-ET-TE…LOUD WHOO-PEE”
~We spoon under moon...
Weeping cries of Loon...
“RING ROS-IE…AL-OU-ET-TE!”
~Ring of love on fire,
Passion’s love inspire,
“Al-OU-ET-TE.. NEATH GUM TREE”
~Our true love be strong,
True love can’t be wrong,
“AL-OU-ET-TE.. LOVERS BE”
Dancing…
“STOCKIN FEET…AL-OU-ET-TE“
Singing…
“AL-OU-ET-TE…I CAN‘T SEE”
Singing…
“AL-OU-ET-TE…LOUD WHOO-PEE”
Dancing…
“RING ROS-IE…AL-OU-ET-TE!”
Spooning…
“Al-OU-ET-TE.. NEATH GUM TREE”
Spooning…
"LOVERS BE...AL-OU-ET-TE"
For Constance’s; “A Poem, Please
By John Moses Freeman 8/29/2011
•Alouette: Alouette is the French word for a lark . Alouette or alouettes may also refer to: In music and literature:" "Alouette" (song), a children's ...
People tell me that I’m now a poet
I've still got a lot to learn and don’t I know it
I like to write with humour and wit
You may like my writes or think they are rubbish
(couldn’t think of suitable rhyming word here)
Some days my ideas just flow and flow
Other days my muse has a long way to go
I hate the days my brain is constipated
When I can’t find the words I get so frustrated
I need a dose of Movicol to get my movement going
Blockage will be cleared and my poems will be flowing
Other times my words gush like verbal diarrhoea
Inspiration flows like a river and I whoop and cheer
Thought I’d share this with you and keep you in the loop
You can read my outpourings here on Poetry Soup
Jan Allison
1st October 2014
To Winkin’
Blinkin’
and of course nod.
In terms of
symmetry
prose and
shish kabob.
The tricks and twirls
and polar light;
the flip and flare and star
of kiddy sleepless night
can rip and roar
and rankle up
a juicy fight,
in the twinkle of an eye.
Forget wit and woe
and places to and fro and
things obscure in fuzzy
wuzzy lights to
swing and sway in
wrinkled tights
or sit boldly still
daring you to
a contest of will
hanging in a drop
of drool falling from
yon wounded whipporwill.
Will he will or will he won’t, or
do the thing we don’t?
I see again in terms
of symmetry you see.
But mostly for the rhyme
I hear inside the room
just made for me
in terms of speech and
in the song of my
sweet cooing babe.
© 9/17/2016
Charles G. Henderson
Awful
Gob full...
Wrawful
Offal.
Haggis up for an awful gob full;
Toasting the bard with wrawful offal!
18.01.22
Composed for Kim Rodrigues'
Write Me A Tyburn