Best Feeds Poems
Barren fields of November
Corn stalks ragged
broken soldiers
bleak beauty
stripped of green
Beige bones on autumn's carpet
Margins of daylight that disappear
blending frost to the pinched ground
Corrosive wind like a wet slide of mourning
seamlessly folded into what
the landscape feels
Crows circle in their swoops of survival
seeking the scarce sweet zones of
lost kernels
Momentum to snatch scraps, bits of decay
in field rows that crack like smiles
Under a moody sky, gravestone gray
sparked by the cawing of crows
that scrubs us clean
in the exit wounds of autumn.
Categories:
feeds, autumn, bird, dark, environment,
Form:
Free verse
“Do you like yabbies?” Barry asked. I replied “Are you sick!
I’d just like to ask you; now is the Pope a Catholic?” …
So we headed off across the ranges, where Barry’s cousin Ray,
had a dam that’s full of them on a property near Yea.
There’s no sophisticated fishing gear that we needed to get.
Just a stocking, string, piece of meat; plus a wobbly old scoop net.
The dam was quite a big one with tussocks growing ‘round the rim.
Within an hour I had scooped a bucket filled up to the brim.
We knocked off to have some lunch and to have a beer or two.
but in that hour we sat down we knocked down quite a few.
When I resumed my ‘yabbying’, my head’s spinning like a top,
and then I saw a frightening sight that made me quickly stop.
A big brown snake was sunning, between me and the dam.
The beer had made me brave enough to give this bloke a slam.
I picked up an old dry limb and gave it one tremendous whack;
it squirmed and twisted in death thro’s; then lay dead upon its back.
Barry claimed I was a hero when he’d seen what I had done,
not many tackle brown snakes; they slide faster than we run.
“Is that so” I said to him, and was sobering ‘quick smart’,
watching Barry in his stupor pick up the snake and play his part.
He opened up the mouth and then he got out his pocket knife.
Put the blade behind a needle fang, “Here’s what takes your life”.
Then said “I ought to skin him; it’s prob’ly worth a ‘pretty pound”.
Then just for fun he grabbed the tail and swung it ‘round and ‘round.
“Be careful mate!” I turned and ran; making sure, I’m out of the way.
“What’s the matter?” Barry laughed. “This mongrel’s had its day.
I‘ll show you something else” and held the snake behind the neck,
then put its head into his mouth; then he gave it’s nose a ‘peck’.
Barry seen that I was nervous; that he held me in his palm.
He watched me flinch and shiver when he wrapped it ‘round his arm.
“Ah that’s enough” he grinned, but I reckon he’d been rash,
then he swung it high into the air. We watched it fall and splash.
Barry laughed, “That’s ‘gunna’ give the yabbies quite a feed”.
Then something happened in the water that Barry didn’t need.
We turned to walk back to our strings - Barry’s face turned ashen grey.
It took a while reviving him when the brown snake swam away.
Categories:
feeds, fishing, scary,
Form:
Rhyme
The Story Of The Cruel And Dark Queen That Feeds On Souls
She that exists to eat innocent souls and this world's vast wealth
A dark goddess, splaying her straggly long hair with wilted roses
Pretty, brazen, wickedly heartless and damn to hell soulless
Even far more beautiful, glowingly fair than is Lamia
Artists and poets seek words to describe her deep darkness
Souls of artists, painters and reprobates toiling for her glee
Thousands enslaved in the mirage of her horrible essence
She that holds me locked into her enticing horrid imagery
As I toil like Hercules to break these impregnable chains
Such that morning holds no beauty, sky is devoid of its blue
These many months pass and pass, O' my spirit is wilting
I seek the gold moon at night but find only darken shadows
And absolutely no human pleasures ever do I know or feel
I that exist in this raging true hellish world of deep evil pains
Pray for dearest release that I may one day die a free man
And if gifted our God's sweet mercy, shall enter the Pearly Gates.
Robert J. Lindley, Verse
APRIL 11TH 1971
Old Note: Age 17, this is one of my early dark poems, no rhyming.
I rarely ever do just plain verse....
New Note: Well, I still rarely ever do just verse. May have have written 15 or 20 poems that were just verse.
Categories:
feeds, art, conflict, dark, deep,
Form:
Verse
Do you see that man on the right corner?
I know those eyes that look in many ways
See, How my Libran man flirts with that girl?
Oh, what is this nagging emotion I have?
Why can’t I take away my eyes from him?
Damn that he is now getting near to her.
I am a tigress but now purr like a cat.
Why? Why? How can he do that to her?
When I am here, his significant other.
Oh, those feasting and mesmerizing eyes
I know those eyes that look in many ways
Giving people different shades and faces.
I want him to my side for me instead
Oh, God! How strange do I feel inside?
Am I getting mean, angry and sad?
I understand now it is green jealousy.
Green signifies growth, health, happiness
On the flip side, green is jealousy or envy.
+++
*Title is a quote from Shakespeare*
December 1, 2014
Form: Free Verse
Third Place win
Contest:The Green-eyed Monster by Verlena Walker
Categories:
feeds, jealousy,
Form:
Free verse
feeds the dog on tripe- -
a cloud of gas surrounds him
as he sleeps it off
Categories:
feeds, animals,
Form:
Haiku
a hummingbird feeds,
dancing in a ray of light
scarlet, emerald
Categories:
feeds, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Crisp cool chardonnay drenches their lips,
it's flavour running rivulets over their tongues
eyes widen over the candlelit table,
and he thinks about giving her sons
Rich sticky risotto slowly prised from bowls
mouthfuls devoured in anticipation
he wipes his mouth with emphasised lust
and she thinks about sensual elation
Chargrilled sardines stare eyes from their plates
she plucks them away, eats them whole one by one
his leg quivers tremulously under the table
her sweetness burning like african suns
Creamy crem brulee drips from their spoons
slips down their throats, placating their hunger
he presses his appetite firmly to hers
her thighs draw him in to taste erotic thunder
Categories:
feeds, food, sensual,
Form:
Rhyme
Seasoned water brought to boil
Taters and sausage
Ten minute wait then add corn
And pieces of crab
Five minutes then shrimp
Short wait drain
Chow!
3rd Place Win:
For Sara Kendrick's Contest
"Low Country Boil"
Categories:
feeds, food
Form:
Epulaeryu
The gift of shapes born in a cloud
Could never make my father proud,
Or accolades of merchant‘s turn
My mother’s head toward my return,
Imagination lost on one,
But dad’s shoes worn meant dad had won.
Both parent’s dreamed of child’s success
But other’s pride spelled emptiness
For years they towed the parent’s line
Ignoring blisses grand design
Life’s meaning was vicarious
Their messed up lives beyond redress.
I do not say there was no joy
But expectations plagued the boy,
For if one won the other lost
And keeping peace had quite a cost.
Our meals at home, a tense ceasefire,
Most seasoned by both tears and ire.
My Dad was easiest to hate
He had the means to change our fate,
Mom’s sadness certainly could scare,
Seemed most on Dad, he could not share.
She viewed Dad’s livelihood as curse
And his success just made things worse.
In truth both parents had their dreams
To see the world, an artist’s schemes,
Though Father’s dreams weren’t given voice
And raising kids derailed Mom’s choice,
Dad’s path was not his bliss at all
His family proved his downfall.
That both had lack of empathy,
In retrospect is plain to me.
And now it seems that every fight
Found justice just in being Right
Their politic’s dark history,
No plan to set the other free.
And should God care who wins at last
Their plans for children so miscast?
Shine light upon eternity
And share with all the love you see
That Spring saw grow to mighty host
That served God, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Brian Johnston
January 1, 2016
Categories:
feeds, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Sonnet: Nothing feeds on itself like violence
Nothing feeds on itself like violence
The more it self-destructs the more its might
Goya geek – padi eaten by its own fence*
The dog that swallows its own tail in fright
Yet nothing changes fast as when throttled
Takes the weight of one’s whole life to wake up
Many the night Dopplegänger dreams rattled
Will the hand that wields the chopper back up
To see the other severed from body
Since violence begins in thoughts at will
Who can hold it back once in thoughts born free
The root cause of violence springs despite will
Envy and hatred begin in the eyes
And stick in the head right until one dies
• Pagar makan padi: Malay for : The fence eats the padi/rice; meaning, treachery (where trust is betrayed).
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Categories:
feeds, betrayal, metaphor, philosophy, violence,
Form:
Sonnet
I was told that as a babe, I would endlessly cry
And nearly drove my Mother out of her mind
No one knew the reason why, as I had loving care
Soon, it was discovered that music brought much relief
During early childhood, learning to play the piano
A true delight to the nuns, who then gave me lessons- free
Later, singing with choirs at different stages of life
I was known to forego more pressing things than music
I found then as I do today, music still accentuates my moods
My spirit cliings to notes as climbing scales
That reach quite unimaginable heights
Which brings me to my feet or invite unabashed tears
In the darkest of times when sadness reigns
When joy is unrestrained; or solitude embrace
Through moments of serenity and various shadings of time
Music, like life's blood flows, brings all that I need
There was a time in my teens, I could easily choose a favorite genre
My tastes have since broadened and I relish many more
I still listen to Luther and my heart melts to his soulful tone
And when I hear Casting Crowns, my soul craves angels' wings
Andrea Boccelli and Il Divo with their operatic pop
Bring a smorgashbord of emotions from canyons within
'Though this is no fact, just my humble imagination, I believe
Music is life and life is music; that neither will ever come to an end
Both will keep refining, reaching that source of perfection
God's animated creation, it seems, bears musical notes
Together, intrinsically designed to sustain and evolve
~*~
Categories:
feeds, faith, life, musicmusic, life,
Form:
Free verse
Art Feeds My Soul
By Rick Rucker
I have been, for two months, in my new home,
The things we have done to the place, would fill a tome,
The smell of paint, on the air, as it is new,
Carpets and blinds, and hardwood floors, done too,
New sink, and fixtures, and bathroom mirror,
A grandfather clock that I hold most dear,
New lighting, in and out, and here and there,
Served to show the walls, which were quite bare,
Yesterday, came the time to bite the bullet,
To find the trigger, and finally pull it!
Something that had me feeling bad,
At a friend’s, a King’s ransom in art, I had,
The artists had labored for years, by hand,
To paint the finest art in the land.
On the walls, not a trace,
As I never before had the space,
To show them as they deserved,
To display them, for so long preserved,
Tomorrow, a smile will light my Face,
As I see the beauty that my walls, does grace,
Prior to yesterday, my Home was whole,
Now, it has the Power to feed my Soul,
Even with every odd chance,
Warms me with but a fleeting glance,
Their haunting images are a constant inspiration,
For the creators, I have nothing but admiration,
To think that silk, and paint could cause,
Such emotion, gives me pause,
I am sure that I shall always feel,
The feelings that these works reveal,
I shall ever hold the longing in my Heart,
Engendered by these works of Art.
I hope to forever be,
In love with Beauty that I see!
Categories:
feeds, art, me, beauty, longing,
Form:
Couplet
Do you see that man on the right corner?
How that Libra man flirts with that girl
Oh, what is this nagging emotion I have?
Why can’t I take away my eyes from him?
Damn that Libran getting near to her.
I am a tigress but now purr like a cat.
Why? Why? How can he do that to her?
I want him to my side for me instead
Oh God, how strange do I feel inside?
I am getting mean, angry and sad
I understand now it is green jealousy.
Green signifies growth, health ,happiness
On the flip side, green is jealousy or envy.
============================
Fourth placement in
My inspiration for this poem is " Why is jealousy green?
Contest: How do I answer that question? In honor of Paula Swanson
Categories:
feeds, jealousy,
Form:
Verse
the bird feeds
from my outstreached hand
a salty breeze
Categories:
feeds, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Dana sits alone on the wooden dock
she has fun throwing breadcrumbs
to the hungry and excited ducks;
they rush to catch them in droves
so confident she won't hurt them unlike
the other naughty kids who throw rocks
scattering them through the big park...
and spreading their wings they croak.
Dana, try to keep those menacing boys away,
tell them not to hurt any of these cute ducklings;
they are very gentle and love to swim in small groups...
this blue lake is their home and they deserve to play.
To harm these creatures is like harming babies;
stand up and catch those stones, stop their pain;
in their kingdom they must be free as the others,
sing them your song and they will gladly refrain.
Dana, the more you feed them the more they come;
and racing, they splash water under your dangling feet;
they are your friends now, and this bond builds love...
something that delights even angels whenever you meet.
Written on 5/6/2016
Categories:
feeds, bird, children, girl, happiness,
Form:
Rhyme