Best Fends Poems
Jubilation filled the room and lit my mother’s face on her 80th birthday.
Everyone she loved, both friends and family, had come from near and far away.
A huge surprise, the secret was well kept by all, even by her children, all seven!
Never had she felt such joy; through tears she said,“This is how it must be in Heaven."
For Line Gauthier's 'Bite Size Poem no13' Poetry Contest
Written 3/20/2015 and dedicated to a beautifully spiritual and strong woman who raised eight children, one that died in the 80's, and who lost her husband to Alzheimer's over a decade ago. Today she lives alone in our Iowa home town and fends for herself. Spry and independent, she will be 90 next March (2022).
Please check out the slide show (see above) of the wonderful family reunion we had in 2013!
Categories:
fends, mother,
Form:
Acrostic
Sleepeth thou darkling,
fade....
How privy thy existence made,
to shade the feathered extremity
thy plumage gave;
a kiss unto pools sleeping
white at noon....
neath bowers in waking rain,
through arbors, dripping and brawn
The black swan returns again,
('tis no shame to love him so)
Seeker of the serfs;
with slow power he fends her,
such flight to beating wing,
to dawn never ending
(seizing watery throne)
Thou art royal among the waters
and scarlet skies make pink
thy billowed white hues;
Little boats of lovers sigh
your white-spirit near
How good omen fosters good cheer ----
How blessed they feel your presence
here,
grace upon the gentle waves
There is black among the pond,
sable Lord from Melbourne;
his speech unruly and red,
Likened his beak with surly scarlet
throngs,
how honest his nature bequeathed
(how darkling his arbors met)
floating in the nestles, watching
with spring-fed breeze
And she to him, a Queen of fair hope:
" Shall I call thee white love? "
said he
Keith O.J. Hunt (C) 2014
Categories:
fends, love, nature, romantic,
Form:
Rhyme
Expectations brimming.
Nostalgia of my hurt.
Dismantling my mind.
My love was sincere.
I did not know to loll.
Just simple minded me.
The earth my solitude fends.
Sky my dreams suspend.
Breeze consoles my soul.
Gently catching my fall.
Tears forget to weep.
Heart's memory asleep.
My heart continues to beat.
An involuntary feat.
I shall survive my life’s revelry.
Its just a matter of wild debauchery.
Orgy of love a dance with lust.
Tryst with life reasoning, I cannot control.
If by living, I can even touch one soul.
Then, there may not be anything more.
I would have achieved, something that I adore.
A tragedy of my life, a litany of my soul.
Like sun burnt leaves crushed under my feet.
Categories:
fends, love,
Form:
Free verse
In the icy white living mists, in the grayness
Rising up around the olden mossy stones
I hear them calling through the smudging grey veils
That separate this world of unexplainable sadness
From the unknowable, from the unknown
They say the raven, wisest of the birds,
A spirit animal, the shaman’s own,
Renewal, divination, and introspection
Passes into the eternal, there she finds a second home
Finds a glowing light even in this eternal darkness
Standing in the inky blackness she fends off the icy fear
Oh raven,
Raven return from the mists--stay clear, return here
Pale woman in black, in human or silken ghostly form
In whatever shape you chose, a change of consciousness,
To face the cavern's darkness then renewal, to be reborn
Amidst this starless somber world, you call a second home
Introspection and connection -- Both to the newborn
And to the crone.
Among the Dead Contest
Written by Linda Milgate
contest by Rambling Poet
Categories:
fends, visionary
Form:
Rhyme
She's only 9 years old and cries out in despair.
All she wants is for her mum to be there.
Her dad has remarried and doesn't give a damn,
But he puts on this façade that he's a great man.
“Dear God,” she's asked, “why me?” as tears stream down.
“What have I done to deserve this, please take me to mum!”
She doesn’t believe in fairy-tales, they never come true,
as her life is a fairy-tale in reverse, stuck with morose views.
I look up and questioned God “why is life so unfair?
This innocent child feels that no one cares.
Talking about death at this young age.
What has frightened this child to get to this stage?”
Her dad cares about money and status all the time
While his beautiful daughter just gets let behind.
Forgetting that she just needs his love and care
Instead she fends for herself with silent tears.
She’s only nine years old yet growing up so fast.
Wondering how long this dreadful life will last.
“Dear God,” She prays, “Please take me away.
I want to be with mum than live another day.”
Contest: It shouldn't hurt to be a child
Sponsor: Becca Teagan
Date: 06-04-2016
Categories:
fends, abuse,
Form:
Rhyme
Off a righteous God America stop the persecutions
We are due out love from you; Stop the profiles
And stand in our shoes and skin for a while, now, How would you feel now?
Situations where people acted as if they were suspicious of you, Because of your race, wow!
Black America far less likely than whites to give police high marks
For the way they do their jobs, now
General public views fatal encounters between black people and police very differently whew!!
WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD, WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD- WAKE UP
THESE ARE THE VOICES OF VICTUMISED BLACK MAN IN THE USA
Public calls such incidents signs of broader problems
Racist yeah, yeah our good White brothers and sisters and White Christians hate this
Some of our white brothers and sisters if it’s not there brood or kindred folks there’s no problem
Watch out it’s…Most of the white Latino officers
Say fatal encounters tween blacks and police are isolated incidents
Majority of black officers disagree, this base on facts No philosophy
Demonstrations over the deaths of blacks, Encounters with law enforcement
Were motivated to great extends by anti-police bias, what
Now instilled America since freedom years
They still denounce and hide this, a black man who dies by a gun
Is most portrayed as righteous dangerous boy walking away on the run
WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD, WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD- WAKE UP
THESE ARE THE VOICES OF VICTUMISED BLACK MAN IN THE USA
2016 THAT RELATIONS TIXT/TWEEN POICE IN THERE DEPARTMENT BLACKS IN THE COMMUNITY EXCELLENT Yeah this is what they said
Overwhelming majority of police officers 86% said high profile fatal encounters has made their jobs harder and yet these killings have taken away many husbands children’s fathers, uncles, cousins and brothers
WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD, WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD- WAKE UP
THESE ARE THE VOICES OF VICTUMISED BLACK MAN IN THE USA
Heighted tension between these illuminated colored fends
Left many offices reluctant to use force when appropriated
Questions people who seemed suspicious WHAT!!!
WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD, WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD- WAKE UP
THESE ARE THE VOICES OF VICTUMISED BLACK MAN IN THE USA
8/6/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
Categories:
fends, america, analogy, black african
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Far from the madding crowd
I treasure the myths you gone through
Once I walk down the streets of legends
Even the weeping dusts reminds me of
Bloods, who immolated their lives to you.
Oh Calcutta! You live with a pride
For ages you are loved
They valued glory above life itself
When they speak of valiance
And guns are still fired in the air
Withal due respect of those souls
Who deserved their nascence
In the realm of your freedom.
Oh Calcutta! You live with an honesty
Not because of the madding crowd
Because you are blessed with eternity
As she flows with her gentle ripples
That streams the ambit of almighty purity
When I voyage down the river
I breathe the air of immortality.
Far from the madding crowd
I travel down the busy streets of the city,
The antique edifices still provides me with
The evidence of such superiority,
Walls still fends against the political conspiracy.
Oh Calcutta! You live with prosperity
Though affected by the madding political crowd
Once you were ruled by the dwellers
Now your sanity being destroyed immensely
By your own posterity
Living in the land of divinity
Of goddesses Durga and Kali
And they still feigned that they are native.
Oh Calcutta! You live with heritages
Not beacuse of the busy primal edifices
But you have the world known aged cantilever bridge
And over a century living the tramways.
Your marbles are still gloried by the dwellers
And they still wonder the hand pulled rickshaws
And admire for the age old alleys.
Far from the madding crowd
I still come across the pavements by the busy roads
Coins dropping with bimetallic sounds in the beggar's bowl
The vendors hallooing with prices on a rhythmical prose
And as I step ahead, I find my foot stuck in the crud mid of the road.
Oh Calcutta! You still live with diversity
Not beacuse of the poor and rich
But you still have few people left helping you in needs
You still have one culture you were born with
Hindu-Muslims celebrating together both Id and Autumn fests
Joining their hands with the christians when December ends.
Oh Calcutta! You still live with your beauty
Not only beacuse you have the beautiful bengali adorned brides
But you still have the chapters of noetic minds
You still exist with love and peace
Only when I find you far from the madding crowded streets.
Categories:
fends, dedication, nostalgia, people, urban,
Form:
Free verse
Life was holier then when younger,
opened gifts at Christmas, I toyed
beside the shelter of my father.
Faith in the world was stronger
when what little I knew, relied
upon the lies he told me when younger,
For as the hand of God, come under
a cloud to part the sea for a boy,
I walked proudly through the crowds with my father.
But now, his iconic loom no longer
fends, like prometheus, the plight
of man from one no longer younger.
For I see in the winter of his growing older,
this frail mortal of him, that destroys
the hope I would hold his hand forever.
Empty by fact of having grown colder,
Christmas goes quietly without the joy
so omnipresent when I was younger-
and still knew God by the shape of my father.
Categories:
fends, childhood,
Form:
Villanelle
She is a loving friend
Who loves me without question
Till the End.
She keeps me safe
and sound
no matter where I'm found
She wards off attacks
without looking back
She fends off bears
without any cares
keeping me protected
She is my Bee
My loving Aussie
Who I keep Protected
Categories:
fends, animals, friendship, pets, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Flames from numerous lamps flicker, refusing to die
Like shimmering flakes of gold adorning the night sky
Burn on, shine bright – shed some cheer in my tired life
Illumine with your light, let peace reign in place of strife
Let joy return to eyes which have often cried
Cleanse the grime and the tears which have dried
Enrich the lives of those deprived
Bring love to those denied
After dusk, when darkness descends
Envelopes the earth and light it fends
Shaking loose her long and dark tresses
In a moonless night is worshipped Kali, the goddess
Awesome in form and terrifying to the uninitiated
For, with blood is this four-armed deity sated
Blood of evil doers and demons
Naked save a necklace and a girdle of bones
A penitent tongue protruding out of her red stained lips
Frozen in mid-stride, while blood from her mouth drips
In this form she is known to us
Worshipped alike by the pious and scalawags
She was a creation of years of yearning
By the righteous and pious to rid the world of suffering
At the hands of demons and devils sowing evil seeds
Causing untold misery by their never ending misdeeds
She arrived eventually and with a vengeance
Destroyed and killed with a view to cleanse
Retribution she dealt, and struck fear in the heart
Wiping out evil doers from the face of the earth
Driven to frenzy and covered in gore
The heavens too trembled, knowing she was capable of more
The gods were shaken and help they sought
From Shiva, the blue necked god, her divine consort
On earth, Shiva laid supine, waiting on her path
And she stepped on him unknowingly – thus the penitent tongue
and the end of the blood bath
Categories:
fends, religion, night, evil, night,
Form:
Rhyme
A defenseless seed planted in spring's tempestuous furrow
Nourished with fertile juices; warmed in caressing burrow
Escaping subterranean cavern into formative strand, roots still
shallow
Sprouting into a strappling seedling that doth hope, promise bellow
In sweltering, summer haze; tender stem bows and bends
Strong, directionless winds blow; the fragile stalk spins
Froward pests snip at the intestinal fiber, productive growth
ammends
Heavy torrents of doubt seep inward drowning the hidden tentacles
on which outward growth depends
After arduous spring travails end, summer's balmy season begins
Long, dry days with timid growth to begin
Steadying anchor balasts the green adolescent, promise to portend
Stronger constitution allows the fecund shoots against blight,
predators defend
Stiff resistance, ample growth produces fruitful dividend
Late summer, vibrant plant reaches it's zenith, ripening fruit
suspends
Toils of younger days along with the growing pain ends
Mellower-toned follicles displaying strong genetic traits from each
stem extends
Acclimated to unforgiving environment, with spare fuel, for its
place ardently fends
Categories:
fends, allegory, childhood, life, seasonsgrowth,
Form:
Rhyme
Inhale,
Exhale.
Numb to sensation
Emotionless pulsation
Travels up the spine
Tingling, stinging divine.
My own frailty
Does not betray me
Push the envelope,
Tighter, grows the rope.
Play with fire,
Dance on razor wire.
Unstoppable ignorance
Furthers the always expanding dissonance.
Just breathe in the smoke
There’s no need to cope,
False stimulation
Fends off foretold trepidation.
Lungs inflate,
Reality begins to deflate.
Vision blurs
Twists and slurs.
So empty,
Fate tempts me
Push the envelope,
Tighter, grows the rope.
So hollow,
Transparent rules swallow
A generation of perfection
Young and lost; without direction.
Inhale,
Exhale.
Categories:
fends, angst
Form:
Rhyme
Those Left Behind
Woe, the days have come undone
Many people on the run
Everyone fends for himself
Caution stashed upon the shelf
Rockets crashing, gunshot sound
Where’s the peace that I had found
Seeing, knowing what’s in store
Conflict, fighting growing more
Every day a brand new test
We cannot run with all the rest
Make a plan and say a prayer
He’s prepared a place way over there
Can you hear the family call?
Resting safe behind the wall
With nothing as it was before
We’re always looking for the door
Where friendship, safety and some rest
Will get us through the latest mess
We can’t buy food without the mark
The days and nights are both so dark
Left behind to find our way
Will we live another day?
Categories:
fends, future, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
Keeper of the Flame
Flame born in Genesis’ labors
Springs from the eternal parent’s word,
Image of the ever present truth,
Soars above impotent earth
Lost in the swirling numb abyss
Fragile fire kindled by a vision’s flint
Bright vow intoned grows a fiery flower
Set upon a high rising hill in trust
Until the Keeper, born from dust,
Stands watch
Raptured sentinel face set against
Howling hurricanes,
That rise like screaming phantoms,
And the siroccos plan to shatter fire
Into embers with its jagged breath;
Cloaked by the chrysalis protection
The Keeper thwarts designs
To kidnap from the mountain fortress
Celestial inspiration’s blaze of grace -
And the wild Kerry dances intent to steal
Then slay bright fire
In the foul air of wicked conflagration -
With shields forged in eternity’s tinder grace,
Keeper, Guardian,
Fends off fiends of stalking chants;
A smokeless incense of inspiration rises
Forever young
A blessing kindled for the Keeper’s heart
Ambassador anointed - guardian of the eternal flame.
3-24-22
Contest: This or That
Title chosen Keeper of the Flame
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
fends, fire, life,
Form:
Free verse
So pretty wrapped in thorns, my dearest rose.
A dish, adorable, a pitbull — small.
She fends off fiends with nettled hands propose.
All pluck, with red stripe lips, sparks Springlike drawl.
Afresh in scent and velvet soft array,
blue bruise of her ornamental chamber.
This Cleopatra tease does make men bay.
This wild wine rose no pet prince can tame her.
The cut came quick, the snip of sharpened glass.
The former blushing queen of humble green.
The bucolic roar spreads, the plucked red lass
surrendered to the vase — a dauntless teen.
Ever after lasts but an hourglass bit.
The sunset quick — the sand that sinks her wit.
8/1/2018
Mark Massey’s Not Just Any Rose Poetry Contest
Categories:
fends, flower,
Form:
Sonnet