Best Glowered Poems
Raven eyed the moon glowered
in an anthracite sky
bleeding onto an India-ink stage
where Valkyrie’s pluck
dead heroes to Valhalla.
Wolf winds howl the ravished sight.
Rent storm with fang and claw.
Purge the all too monochrome plight
with the Bloody born.
Harken the twisted neck of owl
observer of raven eyed moon.
Mourn the passing of the faint of heart
for they've met their foreshadowed doom.
In low tones we chatted
On the steps to her porch,
We talked of the decades
Since I’d carried her torch—
Of love we knew nothing
During young naïve years
Of kissing and fondling
‘Til I left her in tears,
For the navy enticed
With ships and adventure:
I sailed away keenly
Aware that I missed her,
Each ivory cloud roiling
I watched sculpt her face,
And the foam in ships’ wakes
Emulated her grace.
How her leer glowered down
With each floozy I’d bed;
Her glare did accost me
From the face that I wed.
But that marriage was fey,
On a short vine it died:
I had loved only once
So to find her I tried:
Thus we sat on those steps
Last night swapping stories,
We confessed of our lives,
Our failures and glories …
And the kiss that welled up
While lightning bugs popped,
Led haltingly bedside
Where our slack clothing dropped.
We then gripped and embraced
Through a torrent of mirth—
Time relented at last
And our love found rebirth.
October 22, 2016
1st place: Long Distance Love Contest/October 19, 2016
For 1st Place Only Poetry Contest
Laura Loo
There was a battle
Between darkness and light
The moon and the night
As hard as it fought
Night was no match
The stars glowered in envy
Eclipsed by her outreaching glow
For the moon reigned over all
As if a lighthouse
Hung in the heavens
Shedding her light
To guide lost souls
Soaring and swooping through the trees was a dove,
As I lay on the grass and gazed up above,
The clouds in the sky; they were glistening snow,
And the sun? A yellow ball being tossed to and fro,
And when night fell, I was still lying there,
(I was a lazy fellow, with time aplenty to spare),
The moon was high up, with a round milky glare,
It just glowered and scowled as it cried in despair,
“O white Moon,” I asked, “why the sad face?,
You have elegance and beauty, you have poise and grace!
You have an entire sky full of glittering stars,
And yet you still glare so terribly from afar?”
The Moon replied, “Boy, the reason I glare,
Is because even the space and the stars can’t compare,
To the simple wonders your lands contain,
To the diamond waterfalls, the strange grey rain,
The brown earth, the green ground, where you toil day long,
The whispers of a tall tree, and the nectar- bird-song!
How strange that even asteroids have no appeal to me,
When the question comes to dolphins, and deep blue sea.”
“O gleaming Moon,” I cried, “Please don’t be sad,
Come down, I have an idea, though it may be mad!
On some days, you can live down here on the ground,
And if you stay hidden, I’ll show you around,
I’ll show you craggy mountains that stand proud and tall,
I’ll show you caves dressed in darkness’ shawl,
And as long as you don’t shine terribly bright,
I’ll show you the secrets of the jungles at night.”
So this is how it all came to be,
How the moon grows and shrinks up in the night sea,
There’s waxing and waning all year round,
There’s a full moon and no moon and crescents abounds,
And if you look up at the moon one full moon night,
You will see its face shining, so happy and bright!
In low tones we chatted
On the steps to her porch,
We talked of the decades
Since I’d carried her torch—
Of love we knew nothing
During young naïve years
Of kissing and fondling
‘Til I left her in tears,
For the navy enticed
With ships and adventure:
I sailed away keenly
Aware that I missed her,
Each ivory cloud roiling
I watched sculpt her face,
And the foam in ships’ wakes
Emulated her grace.
How her leer glowered down
With each floozy I’d bed;
Her glare did accost me
From the face that I wed.
But that marriage was fey,
On a short vine it died:
I had loved only once
So to find her I tried:
Thus we sat on those steps
Last night swapping stories,
We confessed of our lives,
Our failures and glories …
And the kiss that welled up
While lightning bugs popped,
Led haltingly bedside
Where our slack clothing dropped.
We then gripped and embraced
Through a torrent of mirth—
Time relented at last
And our love found rebirth.
October 14, 2016
Long Distance Love Contest
Nicola Byrne
PEACE
I had a mate; his gentle face a marred reflection of the pain he divined in others.
When a new kid in heavy leg brace hobbled into class we chose to stay away.
Shunned, he glowered; his face a doleful veil.
My friend sang to him, read to him, lunched with him, danced with him;
gave him back his life.
When my friend was seventeen noxious chatter poisoned his mind.
Relentless, it drove away his joy.
An astronomy lesson turned bizarre; “fourteen
planets”, he insisted; he named them all.
He fled from school certain it was the source
of the inescapable clamorous war whose Ground Zero was in his head.
He ran from his family.
Bewildered, they sought desperate remedies in sterile, guarded places with padded walls.
“I want to go home” he moaned in anguish.
Frantic, he bit; roughly, he was restrained, tied to his bed.
Broken, he withdrew; alone with his despair, wide shocked eyes;
his hell worsened by those he trusted most.
I visited him for the final time;
tortured soul visible through vacuous eyes.
I hugged him tightly, kissed his downcast head.
It felt like I embraced stone; cold, lifeless.
His heart beat, yet, felt aught.
I spoke his name; unresponsive, he stared.
In tears I fled.
Later on I heard, he just closed those eyes;
relinquishing his hold on his beautiful soul;
at last silencing the voices.
He found his peace
She frowned at him, still dressed in his skins,
then cast her gaze upon sweet Nell.
“Why do you bring a savage with you?
Long, lost, little brother, do tell?”
Prent knew this would be a hard sell.
“She’s your niece,”he informed,”My little girl.
I came home so she could learn the ways of the world.”
Annabeth laughed, then she glowered at him.
“If only our father could see you now.
Consorting with whores, laying with squaws,
that’s how he figured you would turn out.”
But Prent would let no one talk down.
“I came here to settle, and do right by Nell.
If you don’t want to help me, I’ll do it myself!”
Annabeth sighed, and motioned them inside,
but the scowl never did leave her face.
“Mother, I’m afraid, was laid up by a stroke,
I’ve taken over running this place.
I guess you and your…child can stay.
But I’m telling you now, just so you know,
I’m not associating with folks in such ratty clothes!”
The days that came transformed them both
Into good facsimiles of civilized folk.
Prent wore waist-coats, Nell put on a dress
With a high collar that nearly choked,
So tight it was that poor Nell spoke:
“Daddy, daddy! It huwrts my neck!”
Said Annabeth,”Child, you’ll get used to that.”
Days went by and a tutor was hired,
to try and teach the irrepressible girl.
Annabeth grimly took it on herself
to impart on her manners of the world,
still scowling at her like a churl.
While Prent went to his brother Ike,
to see if the banker had a job he’d like.
But luck was not with him at the bank,
owned sixty years by his family.
He still had no skill for business talk,
or keeping the customers happy.
He found his spirits soon flagging.
Plus, when it came to finding a love,
it seemed he was cursed by Heaven above.
Some would walk with him if he called,
but most ran when they learned of Nell.
One was so shocked he’d married a squaw
that she loudly condemned him to Hell.
In truth, it was all just as well.
A mother, he thought, Nell needed to grow,
but none of these women would make that so.
A month passed, and things grew strained,
Annabeth seemed more and more disturbed.
“She won’t learn her manners, and only talks
about trapping, horses, and pet squirrels!
That’s no kind of talk for a young girl!”
She threw up her hands, and said,”I’m done!
There is no helping that little one.”
CONTINUES IN PART III...
I regret the time, when, I left you alone,
You again, stopped me, but I did not care.
Things taught me, and time has shown,
Realise now I, “how could you then bear?”
You loved me much, now, how can I atone
Just stand still, only, in the dark, to stare
I would love to be called back,”My love”
And share, the times, we were proud of.
I want back, all the warmth, you showered,
Your smiles, your hugs and your kisses.
Frighten me, why? With your face so glowered,
Don’t deny me, with my sweet reminisces.
I m repentant, for all your hopes, I devoured,
I have already cried a lot, in soft hisses.
You could not see the scars, beneath,
The sky was on me, I lost in the heath.
You insulted me at the public junction,
And threw away my composed song, apart.
Neither did you feel,why? any compunction,
With tears in my eyes, I had to depart.
I met the disgrace at the function,
My heart seemed to break, into half.
I could not bear, your applause, for my rival,
The thing I repeatedly told you, for revival.
I m not alone, the one, to be blamed,
Although I walked away, time has been tough.
All was not only my fault but you claimed.
Do forgive me now, don’t be rough,
I am saturated with, the pain I have tamed.
You’ll love me as before, I m sure enough.
We’ll again build our small cosy zoo
With no more differences between me and you.
‘Twas on a morning brisk and airy
I met a creature big and hairy.
It glowered at me, and I at it.
I was not afraid, not one small bit.
Its eye was crookedly turned all askew.
From its nose escaped ghoulish-green goo.
A wat’ry rivulet down its cheek.
“It needs a tissue. It looks quite bleak.”
My proffered handkerchief it did take.
Blowing its nose made the sidewalk quake.
It took a moment and looked at me
with a grim grimace, or gleeful glee.
We nipped pleasant words and parted ways.
A morn to remember for always.
We tipped our heads in courteous nod.
Away it turned and away it plod.
This tale is so insanely absurd,
to this day all the details are blurred.
I scarce should repeat it now and then
that I am lumped with demented men.
But for the creature’s courteous bow
It meant no ill will, I know that now.
And when I am asked if I believe,
a brave and bold front I shall achieve.
I shan’t retell the tale of itself,
choosing to keep the tale to myself.
If it returns and it should see me
I’ll smile and definitely pleased be.
Once there was a boy named Louie
Who loved candy, soft and chewy,
He swallowed one whole,
And it took a pole
To rescue the candy gooey;
Once the candy was taken out,
Louie began to cry and shout,
"Give me more candy,
I'm fine and dandy",
And glowered with a stubborn pout;
His mom refused, "You'll become stout,
And develop a rotten snout,
No candy for you
Till homework you do,
And then we'll go fishing for trout".
29th November 2022
For Eve Roper's "Children's limericks" contest
I love my green and feathered friend a bushel and a peck, *
But there was one occasion when I could have wrung her neck!
She's normally so well-behaved, but on that fateful day
When Aunty Pat came round for tea, I heard my parrot say:
'Old fatty Aunty Patty', 'Aunt Patty is a bore!'
With that my red-faced Aunt stood up and stormed out through the door!
I could have killed that parrot, we didn't speak for days.
I glowered at her through the cage and confiscated maize.
I tend to watch my words now, and Polly curbs her bill
The last I heard, my Aunty Pat had cut me from her will!
FINAL REVISED VERSION
16/03/19
'Green Humor Rhymes, Old Or New For Prizes Poetry Contest'
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire
* For anyone not familiar with this expression it means : ' a lot; a great amount' and was famously used in a song from the broadway musical 'Guys and dolls'. The last word seemed particularly fitting within this context!
A scientist worked hard each day
To make a time machine to work away
And he had an assistant who worked along
Happy to share the scientist’s song
He had to clock on and off each day
The scientist not missing the worker’s pay
The time machine glowered in its power
As they worked away to the wee small hours
When at last they decided that they’d try it then
Entering the chamber closing the door again
There was a high pitched noise with shuddering
And they left the present to the past time entering
They spent long hours in the past reliving history
At the Eureka Stockade and the Moon Landing’s story
When at last they finished their wandering around
They returned to their laboratory as their machine died down
But a problem came when the assistant looked to be paid
They returned to the exact moment they left on their escapade.
© Paul Warren Poetry
On the news was a man beating his cattle
It sickens me so this ongoing battle
For a human to hurt a helpless creature
Is so disgusting,our very worst feature
Saw a man kicking his dog one time
To me he'd committed a horrible crime
That poor pup hung his head and cowered
I screamed at the man and he just glowered
Like I was the one who was doing wrong
But he felt my glare as he moved along
And drowning kittens puts me in a fury
For this I will be judge and jury
Making dogs fight to the death
I get so angry I lose my breath
Bullfights in Spain just seem so cruel
Seems we forgot the golden rule
Another take on that phrase might say
Do evil to animals and you'll pay!
It might sound harsh but I don't care
I think swift justice is only fair
We share this world with them,it's true
And karma applies to animals too
*for Catie Lindseys "Outrageous" contest
They would never catch him for they were not global thinkers.
Good ole’ boy thinkers who were not forensic experts in any way.
Stale men who had not been through police training for so long,
They let people walk through the clerk’s blood trail at the first murder scene.
Sheriff Dickerson was a nice guy,
but he was a born and bred small town fish.
His deputy, Chet, followed him around like a puppy,
asking him questions
And he had been his deputy for nigh onto twenty-six years.
I had been their school teacher; neither had taken to books. Dickerson was a math whiz.
The only thing Chet could do was run track, so he did that.
I raced down there the second I heard about the second murder.
“Miss Marnie! What are you doing here?” they asked. Dickerson gave me a smile.
Chet glowered at me.
He has held a grudge since I flunked him in second grade.
“Don’t you think it odd that this is the second murder in the same store?” I asked them.
“What clues do you have?”
They gave me all of their clues, I was their teacher, right?
“I cannot help you with this one, I told them. Not enough clues.”
“We know he was wearing a blue hat,” Chet said.
“And he was driving a black car.”
“I drive a black car,” I told them. “Want to look it over?”
Even Chet laughed.
I made my way down to that store for
murder numbers three, four, and five too.
They gave me all their clues.
I went home, satisified.
They thought it had been a man. Wrong.
They thought he was wearing a blue cap. Wrong.
They thought it could not possibly be me.
Wrong.
Dropped anchor off the Fever Coast
‘board a rake-masted schooner
Spooked by Ahab’s ghost.
Lamps glowered through the yawning blanks
Casting bone-twisted shadows
Over teakwood planks.
Salt biscuits and Jamaican rum;
Heard the deep-throated rattle
Of the talking drum.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Leaned hard against the mains’l boom.
Strained my eyes in the blackness
Of the brackish gloom.
Port lookout gave the counter sign;
Put our boats in the water,
Oar blades dripping brine.
Paid tribute to the pagan chief
In exchange for a passage
Past uncharted reefs.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Slave dealers ruled the hidden cove
Near a shrine to the god
Of the cassava grove.
Made landing on the leeward shore.
Stacked our crates on the beach;
They totaled near a score.
Trade muskets worth some eighteen head
Pleased our hosts and they showed us
To the holding shed.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Grey shackles made a hollow clank.
Moved them out single file,
Guards on either flank.
Fog greeted our return aboard.
Stashed our cargo below
Where once the guns were stored.
Turned to and dodged a man-o-war.
Rode that swift tidal current
Like a smuggler’s whore.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Fair sailing till we hit the Cape,
But we made Madagascar
Still in decent shape.
Brisk business on the auction block
Where a Dutch merchant
Purchased our entire stock.
He sold ‘em to the Portuguese.
We set course for Calcutta
With the morning breeze.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Crew mustered in the open air.
Coins were stacked on a blanket
And I took my share.
Two hundred stone of human freight
Brought me four Spanish dollars
And a piece of eight.
Christ Jesus, we be ruthless men.
Tell the god of the cassava
We’ll be back again.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words:
Guilt and compassion? Sh*t for the birds!