Best Fend Off Poems
Never alone
Sadness invades
every corner left open
Ears falling deaf
to the thoughts that do scream
Heartbeats are breaking
in moments of worry
Tears on the edge
of a fracturing dream
Anguish now splintered
as window panes shatter
Closing the curtains
to fend off the fear
Still there is one,
if you need to hold on too
Look in your heart
and you’ll find I am near
Taking your hand,
bringing light to the darkness
Trudging a path
so your feet do not bleed
Lifting you up
when your spirits are drowning
I will be there
in your moment of need
I am not much
just a man who adores you
Taking your pain
as if it’s all my own
Heeding your call
nothing else it does matter
Forever your friend,
you are never alone
Rain is brewing;
black clouds hang over the Cockpit Country.
Them rainclouds have a habit of shifting colors like a lizard.
The smell of the pending shower is strong on September’s breath;
the sun take a well-deserved break.
Mango season is long gone,
and bellies are tied up in knots.
Naseberries; they accompanied the mangoes.
Them guys from abroad,
who bought the government land across from the football field,
slaughtered them faithful guava trees.
They build condos,
but poor people can’t eat condos.
How inconsiderate them big-shot government boys are.
We (me, Footloose, and Squealie) device a plan,
when our bellies start telling us something must be done,
but we have to wait ‘til darkness falls,
‘cause bushes have eyes in sunlight.
While everyone sleeps in the bosom of the night,
we put on our birthday suits,
and scale the barbed wire fence at the back of the house.
We are now one with the blinding shadows.
We race carelessly across the open pasture;
burrs biting at our tender flesh,
and mosquitoes humming maddening music in our ears.
We tip toe on the dry leaves,
using our hands as shields
to fend off the razor-sharp edges of the cane leaves.
We drop down on all four, bellies on the ground;
we navigate the rows like them American marines – naked and all.
We ate our full,
and Squealie wet the bed that night.
Them sugarcane have a way of making us hyper.
Footloose fell from a Poinciana tree and fractured his hand,
but we stayed energized that fall.
'
where, in the shadow of a winter moon
beyond eternal skylines collecting stars,
does affection unfold in the sheets
of a nighttime whispering on the breeze
desperate wishes cast as stones on a pond,
smooth surfaces now laced with ripples,
spherical patterns meandering towards
a slumbering shoreline, drifting inward
a silhouette of love, an angelic form peers,
soft mahogany eyes reflecting yesterdays worries,
offering visions of a tomorrow woven between
today's dreams and desires, waits silently
thoughts echo through the dense forest,
evergreens listen as footsteps forage for a path,
a lone figure in the dark, beneath a braided canopy,
a mosaic of memories luring instincts and needs
winding a way through bramble and thistle,
scars fend off thorns, flesh withers in fear lost
within the mist of past encounters, pained
reminders though welcomed just the same
when in a clearing he pauses amidst swaying reeds,
perusing a distant horizon, witnessing the final ripple
slowly making it's way to the place she stood, now
vacant as a faint sliver of morning appears
falling to his knees
he pleads for the return of the winter moon,
the return of its shadow,
the return of...
Jan Allison
Jan Allison gave me a grinning big chuckle
Only wish she met my quirky Uncle Buckle
She might have to fend off
Then she may have to cough
A mighty big yowl to scare a honey suckle
Written: 2/19/15
Theresa Marie W-C
Silent in the darkness of each breath..inhaling this air we feed to the lungs within the beast of our inner torment, Ever cautious ever alert our presence creeps across the meadow as the mist protrudes from around us.. If only this demon could be sworn off, killed and defeated, left and feeling nothing to suffer in its own mindlessness, Yet we stand as it rips, tears and grows within us.. Changing our souls for everything it was once worth to something it turns into pure hate in a nightmare of a world, If we can't be ourselves...Then who can we truly be, We walk a fine line as the edge slips away from us we stumble to find ourselves within fighting off this beast...nothing we can do....nothing anyone can do...less we kill off the demon with the blade of our pure selves ripping its heart out and feeding it to our gorge of an abyss, If we can't be ourselves..then why try to be anything at all....haha..you will never be anything of any worth till you fend off the one thing that binds you to your own hate..your anger merely feeds it giving it strength as it grows within you, Stay strong and make the demon bleed...there's no rest for the wicked things that linger in your lives.
~
Silence, on waves of our tide motioned heartbeats,
cascading rhythms, a smooth metronome
Keeping this time inside blue water passions,
beneath the surface, the feelings we’ve grown
Hidden so deep in the swells of affection,
swimming the shores of a long summer’s night
Building a fortress of seashell laced castles,
sand dollar curtains to fend off the light
Running for cover as sunrise now beckons,
placing our smiles where the seas cannot gaze
Whispering secrets of coast line devotion,
harboring dreams till the end of our days
Lighthouse lit beacons now search as a witness,
beaches a’ shimmer of moon glow above
Hoisting our anchor, we share the horizons,
sailing these oceans, professing our love
~
Tim had all the necessary ingredients right next to his ancient burner
Shark teeth dangling from a sunken necklace at the cutting edge but
The amulet had turned into chains and shackles grinding the chef’s mind
A lost recipe for happiness but and he had no appetite for nourishment
Attrition boiled over when nutrition resembled a poisonous chalice
Too tired to take stock he dwelled on his primordial soup turning back
Primitive and involuntary he turned on the gas and smelled his demise
Rotten onions had depleted his tears thinly sliced and disguised
Fetid leeks leaked misery a trickle or two at full stagnant pace
Spoilt thyme oozed malodorous rosaries into beads of corrosion
Squashed tomatoes splashed foul decomposition into his eyes
Fennel funneled his vision into a bubbling hell of indigestion
Olive oil splashed straight into his heart with no glimmer of peace
Cantankerous garlic would not fend off his festering demons
While a bay leaf could not keep mortally morose sadness at bay
Great white oblivion but slowly Tim made friends with predation
Resolved he was allergic to fishy feelings and toxic distaste
He did not remember at first how to simmer emotions and passion
But onions started to sprinkle tears of joy and the shark pointed the way
Soon leeks from a Welsh legend delineated friend from mal-aligned foes
Thyme soothed his splattering cough and he found his true inner voice
Tomatoes seeded bright red orange chakras from base to the top while
Fennel fought of bloating depression and conquered agony’s cramps
Previously oblivious oils from virginal growth re-birthed him into life
He licked his wounds and wild garlic from an ocean of wonderment
And chose the berries from a long forgotten and noble laurel tree
Tim had barked up the wrong perspective and had muted the roar
Eventually he conjoined ingredients recipe and fortunate blessings
Left the sharks out of the chowder and slurped smooth soup into his shell
Comes a time of unbreaking
what's broken
maybe broken to the point
a thing can't be fixed
ever
forever
severed.
To be sure prayers can find a home
but not when a divine plan's mark
is missed
yet must insist
with clenched fist
I resist.
A simple woodcarver, be
like Mister Geppetto
fend off a life of despair
perhaps with a little help from
a Fairy with Turquoise Hair.
For a creator
nothing causes elation
like its finest creation
seeking salvation.
All may end in ruin
in stringed freedom's destroy
it's never easy
bein' a wooden boy.
Life's call is abrupt
so keep your dukes up.
IN Memory Of Roger Dale Eubanks
Roger
We both know the journey never ends
We spend most of our lives
Trying to fend off anyone who is pretend
Defending our friendship untill the end
You have paved your way my good friend
I know it's never goodbye as you ascend
You put your boots into the wind
I hope your new life with God can start begin
Since you no longer have to sit and spin
I wish you well my never forgotten friend
I'm glad nothing about you was pretend
Your journey may take you away
So I will pray for God
To escort you all the way
Roger
We stayed friends until the end
We understood together we were the right blend
Living our friendship without having to mend
You were way old school
Could often find you playing like nobodies fool
Your friendship was something very cool
Always making us smile
Getting baked going the extra mile
Our good friend until the end
May God go with you into the wind
So you might know we all win
When our life on earth comes to an end
Looking down on us my good friend
With a mighty big grin
As you take it all in
No more pain or frustration
Your in a much better location
Nothing pretend about God who will mend
Your broken limbs when we ascend
ROGER
Our dear friend until the end
You know now that it's not pretend
Rather a brand new life free of sin
Where we can begin to take it all in
No more sickness or broken limbs
Hala -luya you can walk again
Your friends and family have to reason
You will be missed all season
We all love you and will see you again
When we are reunited up around the bend
When it's our turn to ascend
Goodbye, for now, my good friend
You will be missed but never forgotten
My good friend until the end
We both come out of it with a big win
Knowing our friendship I will always defend
We must all keep our Faith and not hesitate
Life in heaven with God will be so great
So don't make him Wait for your next date
My Good Friends nothing has to end
Especially not good friends until the end
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROGER
WE LOVE AND MISS YOU VERY Much
just a piece of you
needed to fend off the blues...
lonely river flows.
© Harry j Horsman 2013
~ See you soon, Soupers ~
For a couple of days
I'm trading poetry soup in
for a piping-hot liquid broth
with matso balls and chicken
'Neath a bamboo-pole roof
in a flimsy dwelling seven days
I'll see stars twinkling at night
be shielded from sun's rays
With family, friends
the poor and the stranger
We'll drink l'chaim, to life
trust in God to fend off danger
With songs, stories and verse
we'll praise the One who provides
Who freed us from slavery, from Egypt
and throughout Time's been our guide
From devadasi in temples to women of the streets,
Form hooker to harlot,
From courtesan to call girl,
Whether a paramour in the hands of wealth,
Or a Whore engaging in promiscuous sexual intercourse,
So many names and so many fames,
Above all I am a human being too,
Often referred as the lady of the evenings,
People forget that I also have mornings,
I use my body for lewd purposes,
But this is my job may be the worst of all,
This is not for pleasure, greed or money,
I am trapped to this vicious world,
These callous men turned me a used good,
Now whom to be blamed?
This society calls me ‘Characterless’
Because I pledged my dignity for this profession,
May be the oldest of all,
I never dreamt of marriage,
I am an impoverished cultural outcast,
I am excommunicated,
I work in darkness,
And that’s why people fail to see me in light,
But Menaka, Rambha, Urvashi, and Thilothamma,
The celestial demigods – who are they?
Indian mythology says this as high-class prostitution?
This is the harsh reality,
I spare myself for making you elated
But you brand me the “curse of this society “
I never look at my mirror with joy
My own reflection titters at me
I see only destation and revulsion around me,
I scream in agony and excruciation
But for people they are pleasure sounds and sex noises,
I have dissolved my high spirits in the ocean of Hedone
Where my conventionality and morality have gone invisible,
Now I stand before this society as a misanthropist,
An elite lady – who changes her boy friend every now and then,
I love my John just for few minutes,
I eventually break up for the next John to stay,
When I walk down the streets I never look up,
For the eyes of women fend off,
For the eyes of men fond off,
They rate me based on complexion,
Being a black seducer I am paid low
But none discovered my hearts white glow,
From a lad to a gray man,
All try to touch my skin,
But none so far have tried to touch my soul
For them I am a doll – without feelings or pain,
But for me no pain no gain,
I can never change this world,
Or the way they treat me,
Likewise I can never change myself,
Or the way I treat my men.
I am searching my bright future in the night,
And I call this my nocturnal life.
BY,
MADHUPRIYA SHANMUGAM
With tears streaming down her face
A mother sits staring at a framed picture
Of a young man who answered the call
Wondering… Why my son? ...Why my son?
A young boy wearing a U.S. Army cap
Valiantly tries to fend off a storm of emotion.
Overtaken by grief he succumbs to the pain.
A down pour of tears flood his once innocent face
As he wrestles with the heart wrenching reality
Of his mom never returning home.
A tiny little girl pulls on the dress
Of a trembling teary eyed lady dressed in black
Standing next to a flag draped coffin
Asking… Where’s daddy mommy? …Where’s daddy?
A proud Vietnam War veteran
With tears steadily filling his eyes
And a crippling wound to his heart
Shakily stands up on one prosthetic limb
To offer one final salute to his fallen son
With a hand above his brow he utters the words:
A price to high Semper Fi.
Dear Sons,
Listen. Your mother and I love you. I helped plant you both through seeds of love. Your mother carried you, nurtured you inside of her body. But, You were made in His image. Beautiful and ingenious- you were shaped in it. So if adults in your lives fail to remind you with our words, God put his spirit inside your spinal cord. It can never bow down to Bel...that systemic racist entity that entices you to fail.
See through that telltale-
Walk upright in his sight. His spirit flows from your marrow to every vein. Even at this tender age, you’ve been adequately trained. A wise man once told me: “Making your mark on the world is hard. If it were easy, everybody would do it. But it's not. It takes patience, it takes commitment, and it comes with plenty of failure along the way.”
Taste the bitterness of defeat. Suck the painful, venomous hatred away from the wound when you witness Mr. Floyd’s June 4th funeral. You were probably reminded that “Some are teethed on a silver spoon, With the stars strung for a rattle.” Nevertheless, we are not black raccoons. We are royalty. We will recycle that bitterness and use it as the brine to fuel our own vessels of progress. We will not shy away from the fight.
Command your limbs to go to battle. With your hands, strengthened to fend off oppression by the skills you obtain through education and vocation. Legs swift to run towards justice, arms embracing your brothers and sisters and eyes focused on that prize of living bountiful earthly lives in preparation for eternity.
Reject Icarus. Blind ambition leads to erroneous decisions based on selfish positions.
Embrace your meteoric rise to greatness. Sky up like The Phoenix, or even Pegasus. Go All the way up and feel blessed.
Sincerely,
Your loving father who is patiently awaiting your legacy!
excerpted from "For an album";
Adrienne Rich (1987)
...
Our story is of moments
when even slow motion moved too fast
for the shutter of the camera:
words that blew our lives apart, like so,
eyes that cut and caught each other...
...our story is
how still we stood,
how fast."
That still fresh old photograph of you
astride a spotted pony, bare feet
dangling as limply as your torn dress:
the background was a high veranda,
cool green trimmed with gingerbread.
A small boy sat the animal with you --
two solemn and handsome children
upon a well-fed pony, photographed
by an itinerant in the thirties --
the time frozen as long as the picture
or our fading memories of it may last.
Some say the boy, our brother,
did little in his forty-six years;
but now, we see his boy's eyes,
soft, liquid, serious, sad,
no hint of smile about them.
We weep his loss.
And you, sister:
alert, protective, girl's face
set to fend off the world --
cast so early in your role
as the family glue
holding us all together.