Best Goaded Poems
Notus comes creeping furtively from the south
hot and bothered from the blazing summer sun.
The wind of change...concealed it launches sudden storms
as clouds pile up across the sky, dark and towering,
lightning flashes, thunder drawls, torrential rain descends;
rivers swell to bursting point; fields are swamped, crops destroyed.
Then once again he sneaks away, planning his next move.
His neighbour, Eurus, wants to show he’s no less able.
Bearing his inverted earthen vase he goes along
clumsy in gait and spilling water on dry soil.
His forays from the east tend to be unlucky.
Autumn fades with a sigh on Aura’s gentle wings
as ice-cold winter rushes in impatiently
from northern frozen lands to take its place
goaded by the domineering force of Boreas
who moves ahead with strong, intense authority,
his violent temper uncontrolled. Despite his age
he pushes his galloping stallion to the limit
riding forth relentlessly, cloak billowing behind,
his white beard curled; shaggy hair spiked and frosted.
Roaring, across the land he speeds with utmost haste,
a sacred conch shell grasped firmly in steely hand;
tremendous power he exerts and blows aloud
while humans cower in dark caverns, shivering.
They know his moods and fear his devastating wrath.
In their minds, princess Oreithyia’s forced abduction,
rape, and carnal satisfaction are still fresh.
They yearn for winter’s bitter ally to move on
so that the gentle Zephyr enters from the west
bringing with him rainbows and showers of spring,
calm serenity, greenery, flowers, shades and hues,
romantic feelings, fiery passion and intense love.
Ultimately, all four have to heed and appease
King Aeolus, firm ruler and keeper of the winds.
----------------------------------
*Aura = breeze goddess
*Oreithyia = mountain Nymph
----------------------------------
18th December 2014
Contest: Gods of Winds
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placed: 2nd
Categories:
goaded, wind,
Form:
Verse
you read out of obligation
a tit for tat consolation
a "thank you for your visit" affirmation
it's cool, this unspoken rule
I do it too, so what’s new?
It's only being civil
community code of camaraderie
who can break free?
It needs to be done
loyalties need to be won
so do the comment hit and run
then on to another one
I appreciate that, truth be told
this give and take system should hold
on poetic pleasantries, I am sold
“Reciprocity” is gold
oh, but that's not quite same
as being sure that you came
because I'm a favorite name
in your poet hall of fame
Come goaded by greed
Needing each word for your feed
Voyeuristic as I bleed
You need my pain to be freed
Come craving my rhyme fix
The potency of this mix
My poetic party tricks
Lines that give you the kicks
I'm a poet pillaged by pain
who's been baptized by rain
holding on to the sane
let me battle your bane
Read me for you know
You need me to grow
Dip in the stream of this flow
Words above, words below
Read and blaze in the fire
word kindling of your desire
let these flames take you higher
as they make each thought perspire
Obligation is overrated
Though my words might be dated
the ideas? NOT antiquated
to existence they’re related
Come visit me
Come here so you’ll see
Passion infused poetry
let it meld you and me
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
goaded, community, poetess, poetry,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Twenty fifth of December, three thousand and four
and already I'm down in the dumps
we're round at the neighbour's via tubes that save labour
propelled by some hydraulic pumps.
We've exchanged all our presents and got them unwrapped
once again I've got self-cleaning socks
the wife's Kevlar panties, though they are quite scanty
are going straight back in the box.
I'm constantly goaded to eat nuts they've downloaded
they'll try any tactic to feed ya
but the problem, I quibble is that some have been nibbled
as they're passed around on social media.
We're looking for doorways or just any more ways
to find a quick route to get out
and escape if we're able, being chased round the table
by genetically modified sprouts.
They've offered a glass of Martian Pinot noir
and they tell me it's alcohol free
so there goes my boozing and afternoon snoozing
and waking up just after tea.
Grandma kids are teasing, cryogenic freezing
means she won't wake up until noon
to find grapes in her hair and a plum, God knows where
and they've blocked up her nose with some spoons.
Don't know why they have bothered with plates that can hover
it seems so bone idle to me
they could have just handed the pudding that's landed
on the light fitting just above me.
The custard's abundant but the jug is redundant
administered now by syringe
and so is the Brandy which, though is quite handy
prevents us from having a binge.
When later we get back from fresh air and jet packs
remembering when we could walk
I'll look back fondly then to those Christmases when
we just used a knife and a fork.
November 16th 2015
For Contest 'A futuristic Christmas', sponsor Mystic Rose
Categories:
goaded, christmas, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
I watch a coral glow of sky
and see it mirrored by the sea;
I wish for eagle wings to fly -
away from you, away from me,
away from what has come to be.
The sun ship rode pale aqua waves
the first day that I saw your face;
today take back the love you gave,
free me from your black embrace,
these bitter memories efface.
You bade me sail your golden sea
by rays of morning sun inflamed,
your burning passion scorching me;
your stellar love boldly proclaimed
has left me broken and ashamed.
Your sea turned dark and stormy,
I tossed upon a violent gray;
with sea urchin spines thorny,
you goaded me to sail your way
and left my heart in disarray.
I long to skim the sky,
leave behind your misery;
I long for eagle wings to fly -
away from you, away from me,
away from what has come to be.
Copyright, August 15, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
goaded, abuse, heartbreak, violence,
Form:
Quintain (English)
You feel your body falling in blackness.
You snatch your shoulder to the right.
The nausea stops.
The bottomless pit is hell.
Do not enter the midnight.
Up in the window, stands a coyote.
His teeth are bared in detestation.
He howls his satanic verses.
Abomination is his curse.
Do not confront this animal.
Life fades.
Humankind is mentally dead.
They have goaded the animals with the splicing of human brain.
A dog walks with the persona of man.
Do not speak to him.
In the hollow of a tree with leaves as a covering, lies a wolf.
Her teeth are gleaming as she slyly looks.
She stands and yowls her satanic verses.
Atrocity is her hatred.
Do not attack.
Run as fast as you can.
Satan is on a journey to win.
Shout for the Holy Spirit to enter.
Abhor venerating the regards of our creator.
Do this to be save.
Satanic verses you hear in the howls and yowls of the pacts.
They speak in tongue about your nicks and knacks.
Purloins humankind has become by affronting the world the omnipotent formed.
The great divided is no more.
Satanic verses are the faunas’ voices.
Beware the midnight!
_______________________________
Penned on May 27, 2014!|
Categories:
goaded, america, anger, angst, animal,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
"Troll"
The silent
incessant chatter
thick black ooze
jeers and laughter
jolt lightening barbs
slicing a heart in two
the dark undercurrent
pulls a light soul under
while writing life striving revolutionary new
troll smirks suffocating the sands of true
a new tyrannical rule eviscerates
the mind bleeds red
punched backwards
into murky clouds of deadly
midnight black and blue
dead
(LadyLabyrinth/ 2019)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2vvs4__2XRI
troll/noun/1. (in folklore) an ugly creature depicted as either a giant or a dwarf
1.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Troll
2.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Internet_troll
3.
https://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-10-07/online-trolls-and-cyberbullies-in-nsw-face-tougher-new-laws/10348246
4.
https://www.iol.co.za/news/world/uk-dad-live-streams-suicide-after-being-goaded-by-trolls-16316715
5.
https://nypost.com/2017/09/04/family-blames-online-trolls-for-driving-young-mom-to-suicide/
6.
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-6395503/Mother-teenage-son-driven-suicide-online-trolls-tells-heartbreaking-loss.html
7.
https://blogs.findlaw.com/law_and_life/2014/10/are-you-an-internet-troll-legal-consequences-to-consider.html
8.
https://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-10-07/dolly-everett-akubra-campaign/10348252
Categories:
goaded, abuse, anti bullying, bullying,
Form:
Free verse
You read out of obligation,
a tit for tat consolation...
a "thank you for your visit" affirmation
it's cool, this unspoken rule
I do it too, so what’s new?
It's only being civil
community code of camaraderie
who can break free?
It needs to be done
loyalties need to be won
so does the "comment hit and run"
then on to another one
I appreciate that, truth be told
this give and take system should hold
on poetic pleasantries, I am sold
“Reciprocity” is gold
Oh, but that's not quite the same
as being sure that you came
because I'm a favorite name
in your poet hall of fame
Come goaded by greed
desperate to feed
voyeuristic as I bleed
needing my pain to be freed
Come craving my rhyme fix
the potency of this mix
my poetic party tricks
Come click for the best picks
Read the poet pillaged by pain
who's been baptized by rain
holding on to the sane
let me battle your bane
Read me because you know
you need me to grow
Dip in the stream of this flow
words above, words below
Read and be set on fire
by word kindling of desire
Flames that lick passion higher
making each thought perspire
Obligation is overrated
though my words might be dated
the ideas? NOT antiquated
to existence they’re related
Come visit me
Come here so you’ll see
Passion infused poetry
that melds you and me
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
goaded, appreciation, community, poetry, poets,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
So the October sky let loose its stores
in drip and drop as nature restores
the wilted and silted back to life.
A rainbow here, a rainbow there.
All signs of good fortune in time.
The Shuramuroves* flock in distant sky,
criss-crossing in their flap of honor.
Seers cast bones to the harvest of March,
some say it will be too little some too much,
but the bushes are cleared,
Readied for what the farmer bestows.
Sheep bleat to the mounds of chaffs,
cattles goaded for the till
as children pleasure in rain dances.
Some catch ishwa for relish,
some make mud houses
in endeavor to turn around wishes.
Like fallen heroes buried to rise no more,
no seed underneath jingle with the bells of Christmas.
All hopes washed away by October storm.
Not even dew will save the bushes.
Skeletal trees hang, so void of foliage.
The blue sky ushers down the sun’s heat
to lick up our hopes in storms of dust
in relive of the gust of August.
Some say the breeze from the west
got us into this mess.
Some say the gods are longing for an apology
for the granted wish of that fateful November night.
Categories:
goaded, africa, endurance, spoken word,
Form:
Haiku
On the outer Paroo where most septics are few
And the outhouse has still pride of place;
Poor old Toby McPhee worked a small property
With his son and his darling wife Grace.
When the milking was due and the harvesting too,
His son Fred seemed to just disappear.
Though they looked everywhere this bewildered old pair
Found no trace of their poor little dear.
I've the paddock to plough and I need the boy now
As the horses are harnessed and ready.
Then he saw the smoke rise and to Toby's surprise;
'Twas the outhouse that hid his young Freddy.
"So the silly young bloke seems to fancy a smoke.
Well I've just the right cure then for him."
As he led the horse team Toby's eyes gave a gleam
And the lazy lad’s future looked dim.
He then hooked the team to the log skids on the loo,
While the slack was worked out of the chain.
With the reins in his hand he then gave the command
And both horses then took up the strain.
Poor young Fred he was perched on the seat when it lurched,
Though soon ended up down on the floor.
With Fred's pants 'round his knees Toby heard his wild pleas,
But he goaded his horses some more.
The lad's *** hit the pan and a fire soon began
With the paper and sawdust alight.
Then the skids hit a hollow and what was to follow
Was one hell of a horrible sight. That pan flew in the air and though Fred crouched in
prayer
All the angels they must have been out.
For the team in a trot had sent airborne the lot
And the contents were scattered about.
Toby's lungs out of air he then reined in the pair
And the curing had come to a close.
Fred emerged from the door looking terribly sore,
While the pong was quite strong on the nose.
When there's work now to do on the outer Paroo
Our young Fred McPhee's work is hectic.
For he saves all his dough, but it's not for smokes though,
As their place is now going septic.
Categories:
goaded, funny, son, old, work,
Form:
Ballad
I do not know how men many we were
or how we went, what we saw on the way
nor do I know for what ungodly purport was ours
or what goaded us on into deeper uncharted territory
despite our tortured souls and aching bodies protesting to refrain .
I vaguely recollect through my befogged mind
some arcane words like Shoggoth and Mi- go and Dagon,
so much gibberish and blubbering babble of deranged minds
gone at once numb and addled with sights and sounds
forbidden to man in his wildest dreams and thoughts.
Through crenellated valleys grey misted in their troughs
and crests and covered with slime or ooze as from some
white-wormed denizens from unnamed and should-not-be-named
lairs in regions in deep damp grottoes of infernal charnel mounds
did I and my ill-fated team wander wild-eyed and unkempt.
Do not ask me what we saw when we reached our goal
for what my skulled orbs beheld or what my brain deciphered
I know nor remember not all semblance of sense and sensibilities
having fled with a volition not my own but driven by transfusions
of thought telepathically imposed from without from the miasma.
I know not whether to thank those who found me in the sorry state
that they did - a blathering caricature of the human form more ape,
nay, an ape has more intellect and dignity, than man- a creature more
fit to dwell in the mire and morass of a cess-pit than tread the same
hallowed soil or breathe the self-same vapors as civilized man.
It was far better still that the group of kindly souls, most rightfully,
had left me to my own contrivances and let me wander in my unknown
quest for unknown and mysterious things best known to myself once
but now lost to me forever.
I find myself in these padded and strait-jacketedand dreary halls of Arkham
standing at the edge of the precipice of an insurmountable mountain with
an abyss at the foot, both of interminable depth and dark as the devil's heart.
I have leaped from this vertiginous height perhaps a dozen times to end my misery
but having felt all the terror and thrill of finding absolution, I find myself here again,
and again.
Categories:
goaded, dark, fantasy, horror, imagination,
Form:
Narrative
Darkness persists,
Then in moments appears the vitreous hue
On the horizon
as vision from nowhere filters through
the benighted heavens
the lonesome moon shivers
in apprehension
as her belamy flickers its last
and regresses into the past
Tranquility resounds everywhere
a peace so peaceful and joy so joyous
for everyone to share
yet who but the few stricken by Love
or the ever awake mother dove
have from their slumber this trice to spare
or perhaps the farmer awoken
by some dream that tickled his heart
or the wife goaded by some urgent task
to be done from her chores apart
or the breaved who keep vigil over their dear
ones or those forced by hunger or tiresome wear.
Apart from these, the wandering fog and the silent trees
the cold dead rock and the chilling breeze
testify the morning cheer
More light pours in and nature shows herself
the fog dissolves
the clouds are red and gray
the mynahs and parrots shatter the silence
the rooster announces the day;
the lingering mist over the pond kisses the cold water
as lovers parting at the break of day
after lovely long night hours.
The roscid chrysanthemum shies away
at such a doughty act and shudders
as the wind steals its fragrance and makes it sway;
Harrow! the witeless fogs are wiped by the dour rays
of the Sun, who infuses life in the world of men.
Categories:
goaded, beauty, nature, sun, winter,
Form:
Blank verse
Eyes for only you
Cologne goaded me so much
My breath caught each time we touched
Sounds of love galore
Should we ever kiss once more
Categories:
goaded, imagery, love, senses, sensual,
Form:
Tanka
The courtroom was hushed
as Marco entered the room
Meekly he entered the
witness box.
His large brown eyes
glanced at the judge
as he made his oath.
The prosecutor
wore a frown that
drew down his eyebrows
raven-like.
Marco answered the
prosecutor honestly
Gaining the jury's
respect.
He was Spanish and
proud of his country's
culture and history.
He came here with
a heavy heart to bear witness
to murder and torture.
Marco recounted
the bloodshed he
had seen.
How fellow creatures
met their deaths.
Writhing in agony.
Crazed beasts
entered the ring
taunted and goaded
to the crowd's enjoyment
He described how much
he despaired at the torture
of innocent animals
His large brown eyes
became pools that leaked
tears down his
beautiful face.
Now and then a sob
came from the jury
as they heard how
little the crowds cared.
The andalucian stallion
described the nightmares
he suffered and how
fear cast a shadow
over his life.
Marco left the witness stand
as the jury applauded him.
The judge would decide
in this court of animal rights.
How civilised is humanity?
Actions speak louder than words.
Categories:
goaded, animal, conflict, culture, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
I won't be back down
I won't be goaded into a fight
I know what I want
And I always get it
Just watch
It's always meaningful when you are a part of it
Life is boring without me
Meaning
What meaning?
It's only when you make of it
True religion
The one within you
Don't take you to a church
if you don't have it within
I don't have to explain it to you
There's only one I worry
It's the One I can't explain
It's the One I answer to
Don't infringe me
And I won't infringe you
Take me at face value
as I don't play around
Why does everything have to be so hard?
It is not
Take it from me
If it's too hard
it is not for you
Run...
What is freedom if you are not willing to pay a price?
Too much explaining can drive one banana
Don't start now
The one who thinks he can is actually can
Does it make sense?
Haha
Hope not
because that is when you get it
Lol
That will take some time
Just kidding
Want to pull your leg
It's actually long
Don't wanna
Haha
Get your message somewhere else
'cause this chic is going to bed
Categories:
goaded, faith,
Form:
Free verse
The Lay of Sir Donald
(Or: Le Chanson de Donald)
An orange man – of red and trailing tie,
Small hands, and copious twitter-feed – sing I!
Most staunch ’gainst Saracen and Mede is he,
Bare-armed and ruddy-necked his followers be.
Brightly he barteth, and knows how, full well,
In sev’n-score characters his truth to tell.
Courtly he is to nymphs – yea, most correct –
And any contradictions he’ll reject:
Talk of “ailuric rapture”, he maintains,
Was nothing more than banter between swains.
And though, by direst foe as “dotard” shamed –
By REGAL liege-man “moron”, too, proclaimed –
He’s shunned by ANGELA, the Teuton queen
For policies much nearer black than green,
He’s loved by VIKTOR, chief of Magyar horde,
And (still?) VLADIMIR, Muscovy’s dark lord.
But all now tremble at his reckoning,
In Orient far, with JONG the Hermit King.
Tis hard to know whose head is the more beefy
Or whose hair more eccentric’ly coiffefe.
“Since in ballistics you indulge, and fission,”
Quoth he, “Let us contend in micturition.
My country’s armoury is locked and loaded
To make yours but a wilderness,” he goaded.
You doubt he sets his cap at Tyranny?
That risk of Bloody Warre augmented be?
As well to doubt the POPE’S denomination,
Or Silvan Sites of Ursine Defecation!
Categories:
goaded, funny, political,
Form:
Political Verse