Best Flee Poems
Oh let my soul flee
To the purple mountains
Where poetry breathes—
Where dawn’s shadows
Move silently with the sun.
Let my eyes feast on
Dew drops and Scottish broom
With its golden bloom.
Let the fresh scent of conifers
Satiate and restore my soul
As it soars with the wayward wind
Where verses resplendent
And timeless intertwine
With the glorious divine.
© Connie Marcum Wong
8-8-17 rev.
Mountains contest 7th placement
Sponsor: Julie Rodeheaver
Flee the cold, dark rain
Come, dwell in essence of warmth
Find peace, love within
Leave the yesterdays behind
Welcome to sanctuary!
The spiritual gem inside me,
sometimes sounds like a huge buzzing bee.
This rumbling sound makes me want to flee,
flee to peace and not for glee.
I know when my soul needs to rest,
as I put it back into my chest.
This crazy world has it dressed,
now my soul needs to pass the test.
Even when we are both all stressed,
quietness and prayer will fill us with new zest.
My kitchen will hold the key,
love like warm oven brie.
Too many cooks here so flee,
this is my holiday plea.
Only one needed cook bee,
with dinner and hot tea.
The broth must not taste like the sea,
but with a touch of glee.
Written: July 11, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Line Gauthier
****************
Grief stays—slow snowfall seals the silent night,
Time weeps—deep sleep dims every fading light.
Lost love - heart's throb echoes that I can't flee,
Sad years—bleak hymns sink in, griefs I foresee.
Through fading rain, your voice—a soft refrain,
Grief's thief brings back your sweet ache again.
dancing a jig needing to pee, down with the drawers, got stung by a bee, forced to flee
10/9/2016
Funny One Liner
Sponsored by: Silent One
I will clench my pen to my heart where fair minds are slothful to reach;
I will breed my psychosis to conceivable saneness,
Beyond the inaptness of convincing man or anything they could teach!
I will clench my pen to my heart to heal my contravened poems,
Until the gauge of perceptive beat the world to my hefty tongue
To put my name in writing like incises of poetry in unregimented times!
I will do this and all this because I can only be me but none else,
I will, “until the day go dead and shadows flee.”
Until the end of time!
I will hit it off from my cerebral lea to bleed my thoughts free
In and out of time until the day go dead and shadows flee
With unsettled fades like the concept of Elizabethan writer’s spree!
I will rail kachikau to unflustered bounds,
Where in prayer, peace, poetry and common grounds!
We slam our knotted pates until dawn deceases down to day
Where everything I wrote would stay!
But someday I shall be no more to contain your tears when you cry for my withered creeds,
So learn, understand and acknowledge a little bit of me!
Now, before day go dead and shadows flee!
That Sweetest Of Earth's Treasures Can Thus Flee
Ridiculous, that love can become a curse,
irrational, enigma to behold
that sweetest of earth's treasures can thus flee
for humanity what else can be worse
a dear life into slavery thus sold,
with death of our precious love- you and me!
Sun, Sky and Nature all can see that affront
Inexplicable, narrative sadly told
to find then lose, inked as poetic verse
man, a blade too oft bent, broken or blunt
doomed into darkness, and blindly sold,
heading to destruction, full speed- no reverse!
That sweetest of earth's treasures can thus flee.
With death of our precious love- you and me!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-03-2021
Sonnet ( With All Candles Burnt, Dark Of Night Then Prevails)
*******
Woeful Cries From A Cavern Dark And Deep
Hungry winds, that lash to whip up desire
horrid- state of loss, feeling all alone
forgotten, flames of great funeral pyres
those altars carved from unwilling stone.
Youth's folly, innocence, its childlike mirth
life wandering through unforgiving sea
lust and greed, far, far greater than earth's girth
fruits thus harvested from a poison tree.
Vanity and its allies- mortal fools
world- a rock-field to be seeded with pain
humanity clawing with its dark tools
leaving behind destruction, blacken stains.
Red, constant flow of savagely spilt blood
Man in blindness wading through epic floods.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-04-2021
Sonnet, ( What becomes of the trembling kiss of day )
The man said "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself"
and he was so correct in that regard
Flee from fear!
for fear corrodes the inner spirit
Face the world with an iron resolution
Taste the songs you once knew!
Do you really that that fear will destroy you?
Well - it will !
BUT ONLY IF YOU LET IT
Come one come all,
A bargain calls!
The first who buys,
Will take this prize:
Freshly beating,
Non-retreating,
Hard and strong,
And never wrong!
Broke and mended,
Well defended,
Steady measure,
Immune to pleasure!
Skipping soundly,
Somewhat roundly,
Partially insane,
And can’t take pain!
Hurry, hurry!
Rush and scurry!
Oh do not fail,
This heart’s for sale…
www.VillageMatchMaker.com
Flee the scene
before the dawn
frames the escape.
Treat with plenty of faith
& you can suspend belief,
like the irony
in how it takes a cynic
to persuade.
Poetic contracts speak
for a Man,
and a lord,
between a grave;
wonders death doesn’t come
when you’re aware of some strings,
even when waves roll back,
they tend to more often break
solely to come back again
and continue to take.
A power
to turn entire coasts
into the oceans deep.
A power
of breaking chains,
and setting free
the wings of angels
and their screams,
by tossing their guarded
and posts
into the tides
of the seas.
You’re not fleeing the scene
you’re redirecting,
and setting a stage.
Think again…
or, for once
and breathe.
Remember
of the unintended shadows
fallen in between
the ideas,
the words,
and the worlds of things.
You’re only claiming
of what you can’t see
of what we can’t know.
Anything can rise out.
Anything can become again.
That’s the curse of hope
that can never leave.
Let it go
And let it be.
What a sham,
I’m still fleeing the scene.
I wonder how many Americans flee each year
To other countries for a better way of life?
Taking their children, fleeing in the night,
Willing to risk their lives out of an awful fear
Their children will be conscripted by a cartel
Where their lives will become a living hell?
I wonder how many Americans flee each year
Desperately putting their lives in mortal danger
Leaving behind everything they own, and more,
Including extended family, which they hold dear
Trying to sneak into another country to be free
So they can have opportunity, peace and liberty?
I wonder how many Americans flee each year
Crossing border after border to find a safe place
With nothing but the clothes on their backs?
None, I should think, for life here is in high gear
In the grand scheme of things, we are so blessed,
Head and shoulders above all, and I do not jest!
Written July 26, 2022
I've tried to flee
from lustful thought
and act.
The thought of
sexuality,the
thought of lust.
My flesh is mainly
made for it,that's
fact.
In dirty bed,the
pleasure of mine
trust.
Though fear of God
still ring in heart of
mine.
Like sheep against a
lion, I'm weak,
to firmly stand and
work God's vine,
but rather I remain a
sexual freak.
But worker often get
his wage,mine's
death.
An eternal
punishment of mine
is hell.
I need to change
before I take my last
breath.
I'm now determined
to be heaven's dwell.
I'll settle down and
learn from Jesus
Christ,
who lived but flesh
of his,he sacrified.
To Ben McDuff poor Mary would cling
When Ben McDuff did his Highland Fling
But so fast did he fling than she came unclung
And over the Highlands she was flung
Where can I flee
How can I hide
I'll still be me
On the opposite side
Wherever I go
There I am
Rerunning my show
Mary's little lamb
Despite the distance
Of here and there
Equivalent diligence
Nothing spared
I cannot dig
Climb, crawl or fly
An alternative gig
But I remain I