Best Fortune Poems
Britches and snitches
Were out digging ditches
When out from the ground did appear
Gold that looked old
if the truth now be told
It was something someone would hold dear
A crown from the town
Just a little ways down
Perhaps it belonged to the king
With tools they found jewels
And these two were no fools
As they thought of the fortune it’d bring
They tried and they pried
Now with pressure applied
To remove the prize up from the land
A dream it would seem
As they worked as a team
So that wealth could then rest in their hand
A tug and a shrug
In the place that they dug
But the artifact still wasn’t free
A shove with a glove
The sun hot up above
Now a bundle of sweat they would be
Inspired but tired
Their strength now expired
They tossed down their shovel and hoe
Glad but not sad
And in no way now mad
They decided to let the thing go
A prize for the eyes
As they now realize
All the trouble this fortune might send
Greed they don’t need
As the two did concede
That their fortune was having a friend
My heart shrivels dry, blackened rose in bitter anguish, ...
Do you feel my pain?
Why must the flame of day dwindle dim?
O' fortune, like the moon, changeable, waxing and waning
Oppressing me, first with power's soothing stroke
To take it all away!
Poverty of my spirit lies in love's immortal wake
Why fate of fortune, cruel regard, forsaken me?
Vain, and shadowed, I waver between the balance
Such agony is mine!
Day and night, everything defies me?
Great is my grief!
One cure, escape me from the throes of my misery !!
I beg, the Gods... hear my wail, hear my plea
Would fate be cured by kiss, one look, one sign, devotion? !
This wretchedness is black, I taste bitter ash!
Keep dark night hidden in the depth of your heart, o' moon !!
I am like a leaf, played with by the wind
I am like a light hovering bird, chains cannot bind me !!
Salvation comes with desire, one touch
Do not turn the eyes away...!
I cannot be shamed!
Torment me not, o' heartless moon!!
Wheel of fortune spins my heart...I beg to win love's prize !!
Without it, I will bemoan the wounds of fortune with weeping eyes
.... and I am cursed as I fall from the peak of glory....
into the depths of the valley of despair !!
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protogothic entry: for Amy's Contest:
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Inspired by the classical music, "Carmina Burana"
A cantata, written between l935-36 by German composer Carl Orff.
This passionate work was based on ancient poems hand-scribed in Latin...these parchment
manuscripts discovered in a Bavarian monastery in l803. They were believed to have been
written by students of the clergy (monks) sometime during the 11-13th century.
This familiar music has been used in numerous film scores..quite dramatic and powerful
Don't rip your heart open too deep
(All they'll see are the valves and the veins)
Don't puke out your guts in one heap
(All they'll smell is the rotten Chow Mein)
Footnote: I decided to enter this as my worst poem because it really stinks and makes me want to throw up...
Lovely lady you know I am a drifter
Life didn’t need to move any swifter,
So many tales over the years,
A drifters life doesn’t consist of fears.
When I told you all about my days,
I’d hoped that in so many ways,
I could take your hand and sing to you.
Caress you with my songs with a view,
You asking me not any more to wander.
And having you grow so much fonder.
That didn’t happen as I hoped it would.
My wanderlust held me as only it could.
Now I am older, my songs echo the sound.
Of perpetual wind turbines going round.
I guess a soldier of fortune I will always be.
A weary traveler, wandering aimlessly.
So many times I looked for something new,
In reality I was just wandering without you.
Days n nights were cold, you weren’t here.
Songs echoed but were no longer clear.
My heart jumped when I saw you near.
My mind played tricks you were not here.
Now I have grown old, nights still cold.
I lament as I see now my life unfold.
In reality, I just wandered without you.
The songs echo in the distance so blue.
A soldier of fortune I will always be.
If only you had agreed to lay with me.
If only you had agreed to stay with me.
Now a soldier of fortune I will always be.
Fortune and fame
Were her fathers demands
Or accept the shame
Of him refusing her hand .
So as we kissed that night
On her balcony
I held her tight
and told her I was going to sea .
I would travel the oceans
Vast and wide
and prove my devotion
To make her my bride .
Too late now
The dye is cast
I must keep my vow
and I raise my mast .
For so long
I have been at sea
Typhoon grows strong
Will this be the last day I see .
Huge white pearls
In my lagoon
I will have my girl
and i'll have her soon.
A beacon fire I now light
I'm waiting for my rescue
The beacon burns by day and night
My every thought is of you .
The rose you pressed
I hold to my heart
and as I feel your caress
I curse the miles that keep us apart.
Months and years
but no one came
Fortune so near
but prize unclaimed.
So I have built a raft
From wood and vine
I will sail this craft
To that girl of mine .
I hold her rose
Close to my chest
Fear in me grows
As I make my request .
Dearest lord I beg of you
See in my heart a love so true
Guide me safely across your sea
To the girl I will love eternally.
This is my ode to my sweet Juliet
The most beautiful woman I ever met
My princess, My soul mate , My eternal love
I wait for you now in heaven above.
The reading was awesome, but left him in fear.
Fortune Teller's Crystal Ball said "Face your face".
So he checked in the mirror from ear to ear.
The wrinkles were one thing he'd like to erase.
Otherwise, the contours were handsome and strong,
But he worried over Fortune's eerie tell.
He oft wondered 'to whose face does mine belong?'
Though his talents showed him that he would excel.
Passing a store window, his visage was clear,
But a ghostly image followed this other.
He turned face to face and confronted his fear.
The image spoke, "You must be my twin brother".
Fortune tellers come and go
Palms are read to say it’s so
But I don’t need some cards to know my life
I’ll love you till the day I die
And then forever dear, will I
Watch over you through joy and pain and strife
Fortune hunters spend their time
Seeking gold for life sublime
But I know that my fortune lives in you
For sharing secrets side by side
While taking this world for a ride
Is wonder worthy of what king’s can do
My fortune has the name of June
She sings the chorus of this tune
I know for all eternity
She’ll be the only one for me
1/25/19
Midnight Valentine Poetry Contest
Chantelle Anne Cooke
From way up high looking down on Earth
Living up on some clouds to the west
Is my guardian angel watching over me
Not allowing hard times and unrest
Blessed with good fortune and a happy life
Pretty lucky when I hear people mutter
It hasn't been a popular trend among most
Yet my life's been smooth as butter
Makes me smile and I count my lucky stars
For this charmed and trouble free life
Relative calm and good fortune's been mine
Uneventful and free from strife
Must've done something to deserve this life
Once was kind to a little old lady
Helped her across a real busy intersection
It was just for a matter of safety
Humbly I accept this great honour with pride
Sure don't want to rock the boat
One day think I'll just sail off into the sunset
And be remembered by what I wrote
HOSTAGES TO FORTUNE
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“Luck—that’s what some call it, a capricious cotillion with probability, eventually holding one hostage to fortune…” quote by the poet
Bystanders watch, their brows furrowed with wisdom,
judging the idiocy of my iffy propositions, the recklessness of my heart~
the unwise promises made to fortune and chance.
Is it luck I chase or a deeper current pulling me onward,
a commitment to commodity unseen,
a rendition to the unknown Hand that guides me?
The consequences occasionally sharp and bitter~
Are they assignments etched in pain or a class on grace,
divinely ordained, the Master sculptor’s chisel shaping my soul?
Were my falls the intended flights, each one a clumsy cotillion~
one orchestrated by a Divine hand,
making me a willing hostage not to fortune but to faith?
So, yes, I'm a hostage, willingly bound,
reluctantly surrendered, an internee of improvisation,
a fool of faith's uncertain grasp.
In this prison, I find the ultimate freedom.
OLD FOLKS ARE WORTH A FORTUNE
Old folks are worth A fortune
With silver in their hair, gold in
Their teeth, stones in their kidneys,
Lead in their feet and gas in their stomachs
I have become more social the passing
Of the years. I’m seeing five gentlemen every day
As soon as I wake, will forever help me
Get out of bed, Then I go to the John.
Then Charley Horse come along and when he leave
Arthur Rites shows up and stays the day,
He doesn’t stay in one place he likes to take me.
From joint to joint, after A busy day I’m glad to go to bed
With Ben Gay
My Minister said I needed to think of the hereafter
I told him I do all the time if I’m in the basement-
upstairs or in the kitchen- I ask myself “Now, What
am I here after
BY: Adella Jackson MY MOTHER
Everyone has a seat as fate is spun
on the ambiguous simple machine,
which circles surely as Earth does the Sun.
People have daily battles to be won,
from lowly peasants to a regal queen,
everyone has a seat as fate is spun.
Origins of happiness can have begun
as a sorrowful, mean-spirited scene,
which circles surely as Earth does the Sun.
Adventure and danger are thrills for some,
while more sob or fight to remain serene.
Everyone has a seat as fate is spun.
As some rise, others fall and cannot run,
all entrapped by an event unforeseen,
which circles surely as Earth does the Sun.
Truth is static and when the day is done
no one can escape from fortune’s routine.
Everyone has a seat as fate is spun,
which circles surely as Earth does the Sun.
When the world ends
There will be more
More tears than you can imagine
More tears than when a mother
Loses her unborn child because someone hit her
More tears than when a young boy
Gets hit by a car
When he gets off the bus
On his way home from school
But why these tears
Why are we all so surprised
We have known this was coming
Why do you act so innocent
You knew this was going to happen
You knew what you were doing
Why didn’t you stop when
You could have
Why do you say it’s impossible
When you know it’s not
Make the changes while you can
Do what you need to
Do what you should
Be brave
For you should know
Fortune favors the brave
My mother had a treasured ornament
A big brown shire horse
To the mind of a ten year old
This was a toy of course .
It was a steed for my action figures
A target for my toy gun
It carried cavalry and Indians
Giving me hours of fun.
One day whilst playing with my plastic bow and arrow
I knocked the shire horse from the table
Two pieces broken from its mane
But superglue held them stable.
I never told a living soul
I was never asked, So I never lied
and my mother polished that horse every day
Right up until the day she died.
Last night at my mates house
He and his wife were entertaining a fortune telling friend
What she had to say to me
Made the hairs on my neck stand on end
I think all that stuff is utter rubbish
and I got up to leave
When the lady asked me why
I said, I'm afraid I don't believe .
I said goodbye to all my friends
Then I turned to go
The medium/fortune teller
Told me there was something I should know
She understood I was a sceptic
So I must leave of course
but I should know my mum had forgiven me
For breaking her shire horse.
No one but me knew about that horse
I have kept it secret for so long
This morning my scepticism about fortune tellers
Is still there but not quite so strong
As I've said I broke that shire horse
So many years ago
I never told a living soul
So how did that fortune teller know ?
Limelight can burn;it never heals,
no matter fame how good it feels -
succombing to excesses, worse,
resisting not temptation's curse.
The old woman has the magic eye she can foresee things
She informs people when they visit her what the future brings
She is dressed in a flowing swathe she has a crystal ball
She can tell you your fortune she can reveal it all
Gypsy blood runs through her veins from the old days
Her mother used to have the same fortune telling ways
Handed down through generations to the gifted few
They can reveal your future and the things you’re going to do
Is it magic or is it just weird how these women have the gift?
What they say will make you sad or give your spirit a lift
Cross her palm with silver and she will let you know
Everything you want to hear and how your future will go