Best Gravelly Poems
In a forest grove, where shadows dance,
Stands a gnarled tree, a symbol of chance.
Its twisted branches reach towards the sky,
A source of inspiration, none can deny.
Through countless seasons, it stood the test,
Weathering storms, it never lost its zest.
With roots deep and strong, firmly it clings,
Teaching us lessons that inspiration brings.
From its gnarled form, stories unfold,
Whispering secrets, untold and bold.
Each twist and turn, a tale of resilience,
A reminder to find strength in our existence.
In a world of faith, a gnarled atheist stands,
Defying beliefs, questioning the divine's demands.
With a mind unyielding, and thoughts unbound,
They traverse the realm of reason, profound.
No prayers whispered, no gods to adore,
Their path is paved with skepticism and more.
Through logic's lens, they seek to explore,
The mysteries of life, its essence to restore.
But in the depths of their skeptical soul,
Lies a yearning for truth, an eternal goal.
They seek understanding, beyond what we see,
In the wonders of science, in knowledge set free.
In the depths of time, a soul so old,
A gnarled person, weathered and bold.
Lines etched deeply upon their face,
A map of wisdom, earned through grace.
Their hands, like branches, twisted and bent,
Each wrinkle a story, a life well spent.
With every step, a slow, steady gait,
A testament to battles fought, never too late.
Their eyes, like windows, weathered and wise,
Reflecting the world, its lows and its highs.
Through storms and sorrows, they've stood tall,
A beacon of strength, through it all.
Their voice, like whispers, gravelly and low,
Carries echoes of wisdom, of stories untold.
Each word, a nugget of truth and insight,
Guiding lost souls towards the light.
Categories:
gravelly, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
I felt our trouble brewing like a raging wind
and I, helpless to escape its stinging wrath.
In long dark corridors where he had sinned
I watched him crawling down an arcane path.
His murmurous mumblings I could not hear,
though echoed in a gravelly sonorous voice.
I knew instinctively there was much to fear.
In the surreal moment I had to make a choice.
When he woke on that cloudy thundering morn
I broached the problem that he could not defend.
His gorgeous green eyes were infused with scorn
and I cried knowing we'd reached the bitter end.
~ ~ ~
I heard he keeps pretending everything is just fine
but I know his life is still ruled by the raging winds.
His dazzling smile is a façade that does not shine
when he looks in a mirror, for he sees his own sins.
If my dream had not become so frightening and vivid
my vision may not have found a way to make me see
the Mr. Hyde he becomes when his temper turns livid.
His next innocent victim could have possibly been me.
__________________________________________
4/24/16 MR's More Than the Eye can See Contest
Categories:
gravelly, dark, dream, fear,
Form:
Rhyme
AntiPoem 2
You know only one thing and that is:
Dying is not on the agenda.
Let us march now inside St. Mary’s,
March reverently through these green repentant doors,
These holy portals to grace and absolution,
Into a stain-glassed sanctuary of sinners kneeling in disguise,
These sullied souls coming in through the out door again,
Figuring death is furloughed from the crucifixion business,
Two thousand blurry years later.
Let us still march forward now to the glassed tabernacle,
Resting up there ensconced upon the marble altar,
Beyond human touch;
The host inside now transubstantiating as with earthen time,
From dry crusty oatmeal,
To omnipotent King of the Universe.
The boy holds his new Sunday missal,
As the family drives to ancient St. Joseph’s,
Up the asphalt hill, there on Gold Street,
Amidst the tentative Yuletide presentations,
Of tinsel-lit trees and blinking avenue abodes.
In the distance Lady Lassen wears a white bonnet,
As the Redding Christmas Tree stands exuberant,
Seventy-three feet into the icy air on Market Street,
A rainbow-glowing giant with a thousand staring eyes.
Brenda Lee is singing,
Rocking Around the Christmas Tree,
From blaring radios inside Oldsmobiles and Studebakers,
Cruising Placer Street to the Cascade showing Butterfield 8.
The boy is counting the neon cocktails,
While riding in the backseat on blue polyurethane,
His father is intently driving the blue ’58 impala,
Into a gravelly hilltop parking lot.
Blaring outward from the church there I heard voices,
A bubbling sacramental bouillabaisse of silent
Parishioners all genuflecting in pristine Latin confusion.
The girls choir wearing skirts of curious plaid, is
Singing loudly and softly their angelic vocal renderings:
“Gloria in excelsis Deo"
Father Elliot is extending his arms outward now,
Bestowing the final expectant blessing;
He is giving absolution to the captives driving Cadillacs.
You know only one thing and that is:
Dying is not on the agenda.
Categories:
gravelly, memory,
Form:
Free verse
MELANCHOLY
Why destroy my sunny day with storms,
wipe the smile from my twinkling eyes, dimpled cheeks?
Like bony-fingers pulling me down, into the abyss,
darkening my hair and my skin - aperture shut tight.
Oppression of yellow-daisy lids underneath a mass, of
ice-cold leaves. They keep falling overnight, an avalanche.
It’s the glowering words, burning like fuel -
a lasting impression, a roaring brew, simmering
melancholic stew. One that tastes gravelly, breathes
heavily into my nostrils - the phantosmia-stench of smoke.
Nightmares of copy-paper flying, disheveled through the air,
of books cascading off shelves, flood of sadness billowing.
My pen begins to write my story, then scrawls like tears,
dripping ink everywhere. Flamboyant-ink blots, rorschach-blue.
10/21/2017
Categories:
gravelly, depression,
Form:
Free verse
I thought it would be fun to pretend to translate
a yakuza-enka (gambler folk song) by Shintaro Katsu,
to be sung with gravelly grave seriousness.
Nobody seems to love me
Or care about my pain
My sandals are all worn out
I sleep out in the rain
I am a lonely bugger,
A blind and lowly bug
I have no home, I always roam,
I'm practically a thug.
My name is Zatoichi
My life is never peachy
I tap along and sing a song
As sad as it is preachy.
The only time I'm happy
Is when I'm betting dice
But if they try to cheat me
or fail to treat me nice
I show them quick my blind man's stick
Can flash with bloody slice
I cut them all in pieces
It's quite an awful vice.
My name is Zatoichi
My life is never peachy
I tap along and sing a song
As sad as it is preachy.
Categories:
gravelly, games, hero, humor, murder,
Form:
Lyric
I’m tilling to forget that night
of fire and betrayal.
Turning the soil over, over and over,
over days months eons.
Waiting to be fed when belly
aches with hunger and thirst.
Did you have to poke out my eyes?
Make me remember silk?
I am a thousand fists shaken
in night sky. I am broken
on gravelly field, a puzzle,
my boiling blood walked off
left me skin stretched under hot sun
bleached bones poke out.
The others walked off in disgust
when you left us without.
Once our riverside hideout
let us launch our toy ships,
rode bubbles, slid over rock
churning fast and away...
The baby down pasted nest no
longer holds us inside,
too noisy, cramped in quiet spots
by sea, beg drown sorrow.
I’m tilling to forget, turn soil
over and over, hope to eat,
hope the fire that escaped our soil
hope it was just a dream.
Hope you didn't steal our resources,
steal all our heritage.
We have no future echoes loud
down the halls of lost time.
We did the tilling that launched you
into a tomorrow.
There you are, sailing free, happy.
We remain. Left behind.
Categories:
gravelly, adventure, angst, hope, loss,
Form:
Free verse
Freedom aint Freedom, said the gravelly Voice
the beauty of Freedom is that it gives you a Choice
the symbol of Freedom lies in Old Glory
Normandy, Okinawa, Vietnam and many like Stories
Freedom is more than appearance
Freedom is more than it Seems,
Freedom allows us to live our Dreams
Freedom is Regal like the graceful wings of a soaring Eagle
Freedom is Real-- something we can Feel.
Freedom is something that can be Seen,
Freedom does not have anything in Between.
Freedom comes with a Price, from those who Sacrificed.
Freedom give us Courage,
Freedom is something that needs to Flourish.
Freedom is not a difficult Task,
Freedom gives us the right to Ask.
Freedom is like a burning Flame,
Freedom is something we should all Entertain
Even if Freedom seems simply Complex
its comes from the Bill of Rights a written Text
and from heroes that died in the Past
without them how long would Freedom Last
Categories:
gravelly, freedom, patriotic, peace, pride,
Form:
Rhyme
Just a little rock
Found in a gravelly stream
It changed history
3/8/16
Categories:
gravelly, history,
Form:
Senryu
The ground gaped garishly, gored with ghastly gouges of glowing, gravelly gobs ...
Finally unfettered from a frigid firmament, flames flung fiery, flaring fingers
ferociously forward ...
The blazing bastions bent on burning the backwood bluffs bare with bitter brutality ...
Unholy hoards of heated horror hailing the heavens with heinous, heckling howls of
hellish hostility.
Categories:
gravelly, fire, hero, nature,
Form:
Alliteration
In his eyes I saw curiosity
as he crawled towards his mother's warmth, bold
In his eyes I saw confusion
As she turned her back to him, cold
He was young and clueless
No idea of what his future held
As his mother mumbled on the phone
Gravelly voice, her cigarette smelled
In his eyes I saw rejection
On his knees begging for attention
In his eyes I saw apprehension
Of oncoming sets of his mothers depression
He was taller now
but no strength in his bones
because no nutrients
can come from broken homes
In his eyes I saw fear
of being beat until he’s sleepless
In his eyes I saw shame
of broken bottles, spilling secrets
He wouldn’t bring home friends
cause his walls leaked with whispers
He couldn’t have a girlfriend
Without a place to kiss her
In his eyes I saw resentment
In his eyes I saw anger
In his eyes I saw myself
That’s when I knew he was in danger
I ran to his house
right across my fence
through the front door
tired of suspense
In his hands I saw a gun
In his eyes I saw nothing
And his mother holds her son
She thought he was bluffing
Categories:
gravelly, abuse, age, anger, best
Form:
Rhyme
Hope is the only thing that keeps me alive
Every day I push myself to strive
Lord thank you, just these two words describe how I’m grateful
My life is full of obstacles and mistakes that’s what makes it intriguing and beautiful
Life sure has not turned out the way I have wished
That is why I must persist
The conciseness of these words is a gift to you from me
Poetry paints the whole world of what I need to say about what my spirit sees
There is more joy in being content
Life is a work in progress it is not finished yet
At times we may not get what we want or what we think we need
Patience is a virtue and it makes us take heed
When I think about that my live appears pretty full
Let life happen if it takes its toll
I will pray for the hearts that don’t have hope until my voice becomes gravelly, and my bones are weary
I will then rise in a new reality, and singing praises for all eternity
We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.
Martin Luther King, Jr.
Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.
Albert Einstein
Categories:
gravelly, care, hope, inspirational, joy,
Form:
Rhyme
Under the wind
of an electric fan
the old balladeer sounds
like a tired man,
blinks his bleary eyes
as fast as he can;
breath reeks of nicotine
and of stale rum,
crooning his song
with a gravelly hum,
the captive audience gossips
and chews gum!
Categories:
gravelly, work
Form:
Rhyme
'Dress Rehearsal Rag'
of humble beginnings,
'Who by Fire'
melodic intrigue,
'Nevermind'
a gravelly
reckoned voice,
'Everybody Knows'
his razor sharp witted
comic relief in
self-deprecation,
he knew it was
'Closing Time,
shared his last
sentiments,
'You Want it Darker'
with all those in loving
accordance relishing
his masterful talents,
poetry, music &
stories intertwined
'tween the life
and death of the
Greatest Artist
of the Highest Caliber,
our Beloved
dearly departed
one & only
Leonard Cohen
Harking 'Hallelujahs' with angels,
'dancing to end of Love'
'Coming Back to You'
in spirited reminders,
'heard that my body was free'
notably 'Take This Waltz' evermore
'one of us cannot be wrong'
'Hey, that's no way to say,
goodbye...'
Categories:
gravelly, appreciation, death, dedication, destiny,
Form:
Elegy
A rocking chair settles in the core of darkness
Time flows through the room
Narrow room
Empty as a drum
Four walls
No threshold to help me run!
Silence speaks
Screams its words out
Candle light grows dim
A symphonic humming of trees
And the yawn of the night
Fills the room
A wind crosses through a sealed window
Leaving an echo of a cradle song behind
Air shivers
The candle sought for light
Silence turns to rhythm
The echo of the gravelly voice of time
Tick, Tock
Loud heart beats
The sound of a pen
Scribble, scribble
A moment of hollowness
Pen hits the ground
A numb, Heart ache
Tightness
A Voice of pain growls
Silence turns to shadows
A swift glance to memories
Tears shed to words unspoken
A dull voice of a clock
Tick, Tock
A shallow breathing nearly fading
A rocking cradle
Blurry room
Heart beats muteness
Blackout
A threshold helps me run
Categories:
gravelly, death, mystery, words, heart,
Form:
Free verse
Flying carefree on the breeze
Colored leaves full of sun
Glint joyously as they twirl
Like pages falling
From my book of life
Celebrating-
Reminding me of when
I was young
Carefree, just a wisp
Treading barefoot
Along gravelly roads
When days were long
And I - all alone
Would leap off haystacks
Just me –and the wind
Blue skies, clouds
And imaginary things
Until sunset beckoned
It is time- you must go home.
© Brenda V Northeast 2010 rewrite- 24th Jan 2012
Categories:
gravelly, adventure, allegory, childhood, life,
Form:
Free verse