Best Grappled Poems
Dawn slowly awakened to supplant the moon
Empty, the canopy where stars had been strewn
In repose, Luna slept after wandering velvet skies
and spider webs shimmered in the flight of sunrise
Dew drops evaporated upon the fragrant tuberose
as a playful breeze billowed my sheer nightclothes
Seagulls swooped and scurried along amber shores
A salty crew grappled with the sea on labored oars
Muscles pulled in rhythmic chorus, as if in lyrical rote
as surging waves rocked the hull of their fishing boat
They surpassed each crest and triumphed over swells
The sun's prisms painted the horizon in muted pastels
Inspired by the milieu of ruffled swirls across the sea
sunlight dappled over its surface in sequenced litany
I sipped a second cup as thoughts were being seeded
Poetry spawned inside of me; a birthing to be heeded
For as driftwood hastens down rapids to a new frontier
I needed to ledger my verses, ere they hie to disappear
August 13, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 12 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Categories:
grappled, poetry, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
As spring showers soaked through to my soft skin,
In hapless home in youthful age akin,
Through stabbing sorrow's sleeplessness I knew,
I grappled grief as fantom fears came true.
He was gone, greener pastures caused his leave.
My haunted heart was left bereft to grieve.
For seven yearning years his loss for me
Caused suffering in mindful misery.
Those years that passed helped heal my hurting heart.
He returned, contritely claimed a new start.
My longing love fraught fitfully with cares....
God had answered this mourning mother's prayers.
3-19-22
*Note: when my son was 14 and a half his biological father stole him, taking him 2,300 miles away with promises of greener pastures. It was the worst regret of his young life. After seven years at the age of 21 he returned home. We remained very close until his recent death at 44.
~First Place~
My Lost and Found Love Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: JCB Brul
Categories:
grappled, mother, rain, sad love,
Form:
Alliteration
I know I’ve made a thousand journeys,
withstood the tests of time and foe
shed the dust and shouldered worries
struggled onward against the flow.
Unconforming, seldom bending
straight the path I ever took.
Challenge was my unending passion
contradiction I forsook.
I’ve battled tempests ‘fore and ‘hind me,
I’ve seen the devil at my heels.
Seldom knowing what lay before me
never knowing how respite feels.
I’ve seen the Valkyries and Forty Furies
their mazy circles in the sky,
taunting, haunting, ever daunting
beckoning from their aeries high.
I’ve crossed the searing sands of Gobi
and scaled Himalaya’s rocky tors,
badlands, wastelands all behind me,
walked upon the Seven shores.
I’ve gazed upon the Northern Lights
and seen the Southern Cross at sea.
I’ve traveled east and journeyed west,
no home or kindred claiming me.
No ebb of tide did succor bring me,
no place of solace ever found
but grappled fiercely all that challenged,
gaining purchase on the ground.
I rose against what life beset me
with courage the gruel for my soul,
hampered, harassed, never emptied,
firm and resolute toward my goal.
But it’s finished now, I’ve done my part
and I’ve left nothing uncompleted.
No looking back, no ruing thoughts
all my convictions undefeated.
And now I’m on that final journey
through all meridians of time and space,
with hope to meet the God that gave me
aeonian fortitude to run the race.
© August, 2015
Categories:
grappled, adventure, courage, freedom, identity,
Form:
Carpe Diem
There once was a cat who hadn't much sense.
He liked to sit, every night, on a neighborhood fence
And sing, at the top of his not so sweet voice,
A medley of cat songs of his personal choice.
He'd been told many times, in no uncertain way,
That he'd be wise to sleep nights, and prowl in the day.
Because near the fence that he seemed to like best,
Lived a hard-working man who needed his rest.
So, late one night, in the light of the moon,
He climbed onto the fence and started to croon.
The sudden appearance of that unearthly sound
Aroused, from its sleep, the neighborhood hound.
With the yowl of the cat, and the yap of the hound,
The midnight was filled with the maddening sound.
From the house near the fence, you might understand,
Came a groan from the neighborhood hard-working man.
The poor, distraught man jumped out of his bed!
He ran to the window and stuck out his head.
He fumbled with this, and grappled with that,
Just anything handy to throw at the cat.
He threw both of his shoes, some books and a broom,
And everything else he could find in the room.
The symphony ended abruptly that night
And suddenly all was peaceful and quiet.
Next morning the cat limped home to his place,
And, believe it or not, he had a frown on his face.
Now, this might sound funny, but I assure you it's true,
Where everyone knows one should wear a hat--
--the cat was wearing a shoe.
Categories:
grappled, animals, children, funny, cat,
Form:
I knew I loved you, I knew I always did, I loved you then,
Every day of then, so much I’d lay down to die.
We had a rainbow, navigating this Earth,
A spectacular, impossible rainbow filling our sky.
I loved you when you tackled my heart, grappled it down,
Held it, stomped it into the ground.
My heart became obedient, yearning for your word,
Patiently waiting for it’s turn to come around.
But you stood, foot firmly on loves throat,
Making sure it couldn’t breathe or move or moan.
You stood as we watched our love quietly die,
Watching as I built our love’s headstone.
But you didn’t realise my love was smart and strong,
That it had planted a seed before it died.
This seed grew into a new rainbow, a new love of my life,
That was strong and honest, it was dignified.
My memories I’ll always respect, always nurture,
Cherish like an honest hands on martial art.
And I’ll always defend my soul with this magical karate,
Used by the formidable love that’s in my heart.
11th June for contest
Categories:
grappled, love,
Form:
Quatrain
Old Mr. Oak
Old Mr. Oak had bumps on his sides.
In his tired arms, black birds did reside.
He had seen all kinds come and go,
watching the young become old and slow.
The largest and king of mighty trees,
for 100 years, he’d danced in the breeze.
Children had used him to play at their games,
and he laughed at snowstorms, ice and rains.
Seasons came and time passed by.
Many have stood under his watchful eye.
Lovers carved their initials in a heart.
Smiling, he knew he'd always be a part.
Old Mr. Oak’s bones creaked when he swayed.
Sometimes an arm or two would give way.
One day the owner built a pool in his yard.
Earth movers’ trauma hit Mr. Oak hard.
In autumn his leaves turned but didn’t fall.
They hung there brown for an expert to call.
He said he was dying from shock and such.
The shifting of his roots had been too much.
Old Mr. Oak had to face his life’s end.
To the last ounce of living this tree would defend.
His limbs hit the ground and jarred Mother earth.
Saws snarled as they grappled with his thick girth.
He closed his eyes on the green garden world,
and sighed as his life began to unfurl.
That glowing fire of a room so warm,
comes from old Mr. Oak, all the years long.
1/6/16
Categories:
grappled, age, tree,
Form:
Personification
But somehow they have done it and you can't help but admire,
the pluck of these boot scootin' folk ... they never seem to tire.
This year the faithful came again though couldn't help but doubt,
no matter how they wanted to their run of luck was out.
The M.C. kept on calling out, "All register now please.
If we don't keep the record folks it could go overseas."
The comment cut just like a knife. I thought, “you man or mouse?”
'Cause, what if they were just one short? You'd really feel a louse.
The more the M.C. made his plea the more it gnawed at me,
until I cracked and ran on up and paid the flamin' fee.
I stuck my ticket on my shirt and joined the middle row
and wished they'd kick the music off and get on with the show.
My biggest fear was if my mates were watching in the crowd.
They'd never let me live it down. The M.C. cried out loud.
"It's time folks," and the music played. I thought I'd take a punt
and pranced along by following the tall chick there in front.
Then when the music stopped at last I made a quick retreat,
relieved that I had not been seen boot scootin' in the street.
We broke the record once again and felt real good deep down,
but please don't tell me poet mates - they'd run me out of town!
Each year as I've sat in front of Grace Bros. Store at the Tamworth Country Music
Festival, performing our show and selling our product, I have observed the ritual of
bootscooters gathering in Peel Street to break the record for the largest number of
bootscooters gathered in one place. A record they have broken annually for some years now
in the Guinness Book of Records. Each year I have grappled with the thought - what if
they were short by one? - so I had to tell the story.
Categories:
grappled, funny, people, me, music,
Form:
Rhyme
The year I became seasick
I lived in a bungalow on the edge
of a wilderness moor.
The sky and land
grappled together
for supremacy of my soul,
Inner dogs whined,
my eyes were portholes
where cats watched
the turbulent dance
of garbled mind waves.
I had to leave a wife,
but knew I could not swim,
couldn't drown, nor float.
I stumbled across high wind-woven gorse,
ghosts crying through my hair.
in the end,
the crashing sound of breakers
smashing against cliffs
made me vomit, I staggered
choking still
into a pathless night.
A cloud garden had to
wither and bloom,
toes had to learn to grip
ever shifting sands.
Time whittles,
it sharpens the bones of your throat
until you can consume
the stale and the fresh,
while riding a moon crazed
rocking-horse.
Categories:
grappled, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
With the invention of man came a myriad of difficulty and distress.
When the first australopithecine gained it bipedal wings and set sail on the journey to societal grandeur, origin was not an issue.
Complex societies emerged and spirituality often served as a road map to success.
Siddhartha Guatama rolled out the 8 Fold Path and the *****Sapiens followed, as the wise beings they were.
Mohammad advised his own followers from an arabian cave and Abraham guided his kin through the red sea.
People and technologies continued to evolve into better versions of themselves.
There seemed to be a certain cultural unity that fueled a near unanimous peace.
People seemed "color blind", agreeable, and understanding.
Soon though, things got out of hand when people grappled with designs that our founding fathers hadn't planned.
Power and ownership took over the world and with it went the peace.
There was schism upon schism amongst mankind and a bitter hatred settled over the earth.
But why?
We hated people for their skin color. The Apartheid and Triangular Trade drove the world into calamity.
Millions of peopled died in the name of the very religions that once coexisted in harmony.
World Wars were fought and concentration camps rose and fell like a revolving door and were holding pens where innocent people were treated like animals.
We need to return to our foundation and reestablish the very principles we lived by thousands of years ago.
The key to acceptance is tolerance and the key to tolerance is the abandonment of ignorance.
People must reunite and say, "I don't tolerate you. I accept you."
Categories:
grappled, history, world,
Form:
Free verse
Interconnectedness
Life with all its twisted
Train wrecks
Contorted metal
grappled around
steel, disfigurement.
And at the heart
of it all, I want to crash
with you. Be a witness
to your incriminating truth
Twisted in ways
censorship can't explain
Remove stop signs at intersections
and T Bone with you,
Bleep certain words
as I drive right through
Swerve on curves
Creep through school crossings
and race towards
Photogenic finishes
Connectedness
like snowfall on Georgia freeways
cautiously making incredible
feats of disbelief
writing under the influence
of you, hard to avoid
your touch even following
the six second rule.
I want to rub paint with you
have fender benders
and crash our bodies in ways
our spirits become unrecognizable
as to who belongs to who...
Remember how intersection negotiations
and lane integrity created anxiety
when you first learned to drive?
Collide
Categories:
grappled, addiction, anxiety, car, integrity,
Form:
Free verse
The winds howled screaming with death's verdict,
His icy fingers grappled at the ships haul,
Pulling and twisting without any mercy's salvation.
Vengeance's arch angel, his black robes rippling in
The hostile breeze, heckles at the dying souls
As the last grasping for life is hushed,
Beneath the waves murky deep.
He gathers these unfortunate within his blackend nets,
Relishing in their pains agony,
Feasting upon regrets darkest harvest.
A darker kingdom welcomes their demonic honored father,
Ruling this land of fire and bone chilling ice,
Hatred's faithful bow low, unto this shunned by god.
In the shadows realm deviate malformations dance
A waltz in tune with dooms echoing to come.
Hush creatures of the night, for it shall come,
My children in kindred's spirits of thou’est most evil.
When the bowels of heaven are shut tight, and
Darkness consumes the world of man, so than
Harken well it tolls the bellows of doom.
Blowing their trumpets casting asunder by thunders
Earth shaking mighty hammer, will fall and
Crack the world in two,
Than shall we not feast upon the meek
And mislead.
No salivations prayers can save them,
For they belong to me.
For am I not the sinful father, embracing
These fallen children within my dark embrace,
Is this not what they've asked for,
To join me in this masquerade of death.
A wicked snare breaks across his dry
Blistered lips,
As a cackles laughter echoes from this no mans
Land of the living dead!
Here life evades capture, and only terrors
Shackles rattle at freedoms liberation,
Teasing its prisoners with a breath of fresh
Air from the world above.
A torturous paradise for those forsaken,
But it feeds the crimson lord and master
Quit well.
Hell's ebony doors slam shut behind him,
As he rests upon his bloody throne!
Soon my brethren echoes into the night,
As the moons illusion shines across the
Unsuspecting world at somber,
Dreaming left unaware, unsuspected
Just as he likes it.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
grappled, dark, evil, gothic, halloween,
Form:
Free verse
27 February 2010
Icy Carpet
By: Noel N. Villarosa
Frozen waterfall
Weaving naked rocky hills
Roots grappled firmly
5th Place to Raul Moreno's Icy Cascade Contest: 3/7/2010
Categories:
grappled, nature
Form:
Haiku
When the mind with numbers grappled
The heart with thoughts dabbled
When the eyes on the ledgers are fixed
The soul with different hues mixed
To keep the different personas
From trespassing I strive hard
When one dominates the other
The other retards
The heart disobeys the mind
The mind reproves the heart
The tug of war continues
The form bearing the wrath
At last the form too rebels
Expressing in its own way
This story is not new
Has spared only a few
Some say follow the mind
Some say follow the heart
But is not the mind incomplete
Without the company of the heart
One signifies necessity
The other desire
To strike a balance between the two
Lies the success of the affair
Categories:
grappled, lifeheart, heart,
Form:
Verse
THE GREAT BATTLESHIP
Once sailed as the lumbering hulks of the high seas
Fierce winds accompanied most of its expedition
Woozy and exhausted crews grappled the oars and crosstrees
With smoothbore and muzzle-loading guns geared up for a mission
The tall vertical spar supporting aloft the white canvas
Stretched out to catch the invisible strength of the wind
The ship’s keel watching the seabed at its vast
Emerged gradually from the water to meet the enemy lines
Whizzing salvo of the battle began off the island
Ships clashed, and soldiers engaged in a fight
Dead bodies slammed and the injured crossed to near land
Hear leaves without figs crushed to the ground
Ship ahoy! Shouted by villagers as they waited eagerly
Slowly ship emerged with the image of heavy wreckage
Wounded and exhausted crews embraced their family
Another saga of brave men printed on book’s page
The plaintive music now played on air
Tattoo beats called soldiers back to barracks
From bow to stern, ships respite from war
A short-lived fashion from majestic into rugs
For chieftains, captains, and crews laid beneath the ocean
Their remains rested in their sunken ship as their grave
Great battleships are now history and ordain
Shipwrecks underneath the sea were untouched and remained a treasure
Let in children’s cry slowly clear the fogs of war
And hail farewell to brave men who once sailed with the great battleship of all times
Posted also in voicesnet.com Poetry Site on 28 September 2009
Note: Other poetrysite have posted this under another name which is a clear plagiarism.
You may check this site: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-great-battleship/
and you may search also your poem title there, maybe they have posted also your poem without your consent.
Categories:
grappled, adventure, history, men, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
Will you burn the earth`s skin to glass?.
Yet, right there , in Harmony of `69
I bent in adoration
before the dusky pearl of your forehead
the soft slopes of your never-ending body
shifting under a sea of blankets
Oh! treasure of treasures !
sparkling
to life
love
in the inner-sanctum of the
tent-temple of my emerald heart,
filling it with that attar fragrance ,
that compassionate smile,
that yearning voice,
quieting my storm
urging me
to swim your sultry sea.
How could the world ever be the same again ?
Outside,
rooted like stark brood of the Black stone ,
rocks parried thuddingly the capricious charge of waves
and subdued the swell and swirl of a dark ,disturbed sea.
The summer night was short
and I
cleaved to you like a calf to its mother.
Your dark-eyed nipples breasted the blanket ,
occulting the coarseness of Harmony .
We rocked to cradle the peace in the galaxy,
with love milking the way
to the morning star .
Winking over the mount,
Venus caught us intertwined ,
drooling like babes,
sated
I, summer cloud paramour of
you Landie ,
altar of my sensuous sacrifice
sweet naos forever
Yolande
briefly
undraping your
compassionate cosmic essence
for a gallant stripling
starving for affirmation.
Awed,
i nested in mouths
harmonizing
now enchanting,
now strident symphonies,
keen enough to split
chaos
into mutual opposites
that grappled , grinded and finally clashed ,
giving birth to a higher union.
I tattoo your name , Landie, on the stretched skin of the earth.
I pullulate the waves in your name
sackbutting the syllables
till tremolo breaks it breathlessly to foam
on the glistening beach of your belly
Wrinkles I didgeridoo into the dark blanket of our night,
stringing out your diadem of stars
I spiral you stately across my deep.
Breaking away
reluctantly
from the tug of your knees
i trolled our anchor through love`s flow
girding it close to my wound-up heart.
"Go now love….spare me a thought "
Your voice and a gentle seabreeze wafted me out.
Diving at dawn with a whale of love
between waking dunes
capped by sourfigs , bleary-eyed revellers,
the blue-blue sky warbled
“one and one and one is three
One thing you got know ,is you got to be free
Come together, right now , over me.”
.
Categories:
grappled, history, hope, love, me,
Form:
Epic