Best Harking Poems
TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE SUN
We watched horrified, awe-struck for hours while the sun died
Slowly, shorn of long golden locks, suffocated by the oncoming moon-rock.
Samson, blinded. His eyes bitten out - nothing left -
Devoured, destroyed : then completely consumed as he died in silence,
In his Stygian cave, as he gave up the ghost, as he left us alone.
Shadow of moon like a hunter’s pitch cloak encroached with vulture speed .
Birds, even the skylark, silenced, harking in their stark branches
For the inky wings of the angel of death, coming - not to Ramases - to us.
Bleak mark in the east dark: coming fast - it was upon us even as we asked
What is it? Grey through miles of mist, then raven-darker, as it closed on us,
Swooped us into its black veil, sunless, lightless, lifeless - where no bird sings,
And our breath stopped, held, unnoticed: and we, bereft, waited in mourning.
Till the sun -Samson- with re-grown bright hair poured out behind the moon,
Miraculously rose from the dead, pushed the black cave-stone into oblivion
And pierced a hole in the veil, burning that hole infinitely, gloriously,
And we were restored to life in the smile of heaven.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Note:
A total solar eclipse is an unforgettable sight. This poem is about such an
eclipse which I saw in Weyburn, Saskatchewan i n 1977. One cannot help
being struck by the loss of the sun in the daytime. Birds and animals also react
strangely. I recommend anyone to try to see a total solar eclipse if it is
possible. A partial solar eclipse, or a lunar eclipse, are not remotely as
spectacular as a total solar eclipse.
Categories:
harking,
Form:
Free verse
Innocent, juvenile, moppet
I am a child
Courageous, gallant, dauntless
I am a free spirit
Hearing, heeding, harking
I am a listener
Open, direct, frank
I am honest
Liberal, understanding, unsparing
I am generous
Trite, worn out, bathetic
I am tired
Divided, severed, separated
I am divorced
Forebearer, ascendant, parent
I am a mother
Contributor, benefactor, supporter
I am a friend
Devine, heavenly, spiritual
I believe in God
Feminine, passionate, strong
I am a woman
Sunrise, daybreak, morning
I am Dawn
Categories:
harking, introspection, life, people,
Form:
Flirting flappers
Whipper snappers
Prohibitions
Big restrictions
Legs are showing
pearls are Swirling
Charleston’s harking
Lovers sparking
Dancing Lindy
With Miss Mindy
Jitterbugging
Afterwards hugging
Raccoon coats
Rowing boats
Bathtub gin
Fun never ends.
Categories:
harking, dance, fashion, fun, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Flimsy fig leaf camouflage,
subterfuge reveals montage,
mind games at play everyday,
as conscience to rest we lay.
Enacting oneupmanship,
demons of mind we worship,
anchored in hypnotic trance,
enticed by dark desire’s dance.
Engaging in acts feral,
we find our soul’s in peril,
yet we wear the fig leaf mask,
making weary earth life task.
Naked one day before God,
our lower mind’s overawed,
for the web of deceit spun,
needs by us, to be undone.
By our hand, committed theft,
we find ourselves love bereft,
thus reincarnate again,
to erase our soul’s dark stain.
Harking to the divine call,
seeds of love sown, we stand tall,
same inside out, transparent,
vibrant in the bliss current.
28-March-2022
HMS
This or That, Vol 11 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
harking, spiritual,
Form:
Jueju
Why this boat?
Could it be the boat of destitution?
Conveying Epidemics, Hunger, Rags,
Malnutrition and Illiteracy.
Descend from me!
Banish from my world!
You cursed word!
You that called education a"Privilege"!
Patrimony of the ghetto!
W.H.O called you "Lion of Africa",
U N called you "Agenda ".
Predicament to the black,
Livelihood to the white.
Harking to conviction,
Capsize and rise no more.
For "Black Rose" to smile again
On the land of plenty.
Categories:
harking, adventure, africa, black african
Form:
Narrative
At cockcrow, I head down to the river, forsaking my little log cabin situated in the dense forest till dusk, which was strongly built by my endemic hands. I have no compulsion for rods and hooks, no bait. I have my ways. I be sincerely unwanted at the riverside. Others be fearful of my gruff, contemptible guise and demeanour. Fearful that I'd snipe their catch or peck their lunch. Incomprehensible! Hence, I descend the forested hill on which I dwell in the purpose of pilfering the village of food.
I plead the inhabitants for at least a bantam amount of vittles but it is nearabout in vain. All individuals barring an altruistic gardener be scornful towards me. He understands my plight as well as harking what myself alleges. He feeds me his residual edibles. It's his generosity that keeps me alive.
When I be passing the villagers shun me and ensconce me from their young'uns. When I be nigh to them I be able to hear mutterings under breath:
"Undesirable,"
"Accursed tramp,"
and an occasional"Eavesdropper!"
That's what they entitle me but I possess a name. I did not merely crawl up out of the loam and come into existence. I did not start off as an abominable creature spawned on the riverbed (some consider I presently be just that). I be correctly known as Grey, I be named Heron Grey.
By Sean Martin-Byrne
Categories:
harking, character, discrimination, garden, river,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Rosy rains still keep dapping on me, rippling into me, trickling in me
My sentiment and sentimentality set into sediment like descending haze
Settled, stagnated, then crystalized into concrete and constant gaze
Gaze from adrift to assured, from timid to fuss-free
Where her long-winded Hebe falls upon my sensuous serendipity
My short-winded romance catches upon her contagious catholicity
Through and o'er million-mile-long cascade of rains
Romance-woven, rose-waved, rushing curtain after curtain
My gaze meets the Grace of Venus' veins
Venus' veins from blear to clear, from confused to certain
Splicing and brightening each inspiring spot
Along each dimensionality of the whole universe
So perfectly the vast vivacity fits into my sensorial slot
That my everything rhymes and roils with its magnificent verse
Far and wide anacampserote describes
Far and wide rosy tides arise
From the perigee of my sights to the aphelion of her skies
From the margin of my mind to the adytum of her vibes
Harking back to earlier path strewn with romances of royal grith
Hearkening forward to future favors featuring our millennial myth
Reachable osculation, ne'er has remote oneirism so uncannily overlapped
Raying reality, ne'er has rainy romance so snugly wrapped.
Categories:
harking, allusion, romantic, surreal,
Form:
Romanticism
~*~
===========================
SULTRY zephyr's gust incinerate milieu
Estival breath perfumed the whimsical view
Perfect metamorphosed season ensued
Torrid wind whistled as fall foliage mind-glued
Exquisite maple leaves cascade in vivid red - auburn dyes
Moon of AUTUMN's nocturnal murk in premature soar - in it's crib, he lies
Bursting colours of halcyon "era" - gilt, aureate carpet of terra firma
Enticing, alluring realm cuddled with perky pigments, WINTER's ready and waiting
Reminiscing the "SEPTEMBER FALL" is harking back from my myriad tears in SPRING.
~*~
==============================================================
*-* jun-jun villanueva
*-* Carol Brown's FALL contest
Categories:
harking, seasons,
Form:
Acrostic
Waking me in the wake of her brilliance
words spoken,written in convoluted high tones
ringing meaning esoteric and quite unknown
the craft was hyped in meteoric terms
shining bright, sending craven tremulous brain numb.
Harking, in glory she strode the road
on which no one else was allowed
they lined up till she ticketed
them for her rich comments
looking at the teeming crowd
I too went and pushed as a throng on.
She was allaying the fears of an unwary(me included)
do not worry if you do not know'tense agreement'
I am here and with you the manna heaven sent
I would 'salad';I would 'marinate'; I would'contemplate'
and 'I would ruiminate',for heck as sure I would,
your poem would come out shining from wood
wait till I am through with that ,sit there in suspense
as I put on spectacles English and thrash you hence
the poor bloke waited with breath baited
like a rabbit flagellating as a helpless bait.
After an hour, the wise lady looked up
gave a list of typos to the poor bloke as his corrective sup
and in the end she wrote
with ten spell mistakes of her own galore
this poem was all wrong and even the topic was
actually this guy should have come to me
and got the poem written by me
on a topic of my choice
and claimed this was his and will be
it was only then would I give a positive critique
as it stands it is a loser because this do-no-good
pooh phah phah, is the author.
Now let me do the right thing
somebody close has died
yes,he did and they did not lie
I began a poem for lament
but that young bloke came like scent
I forgot the lament and wrote
a collaboration of ass cream whip and ah! in it sent.
Well the critique royale with her hyped and marketed skills is on to her next critiquing ticket.
Categories:
harking, lifeme,
Form:
Free verse
They marched past my lane warriors all
Smart green fatigues, mirthful soldiers tall,
Hats inclined, their buttons shining bright
Boots drumming into a warming light,
Young hearts harking to their nation’s call.
I laud mother’s who have given birth
To lads seeking a heavenly berth,
Spurning their tomorrows’ for others
Courting death for sake of their brothers,
They are but heavens’ glory on earth.
They melted into that day of June
Unsung heroes in a blazing noon,
Cheered by townsfolk bidding them goodbye
Packing them to battle fields to die,
Their wreaths being readied as festoon.
Their bravery in battles I read
On alien soil they lay and bled,
Spilling pure blood of mothers’ somewhere –
Whose tears of valour only pride can bear,
Their flesh ceded to the land of dead.
O’ History on your pages I smote
That heavens’ pen this bloodied note,
Of unsung heroes who gave their breath
Quartered their flesh at altars of death,
Patriots for whom praises it quote.
***********
Categories:
harking, patriotic, soldier,
Form:
Ode
'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:
harking, appreciation, death, dedication, destiny,
Form:
Elegy
Across the globe, music ascends—a universal zephyr,
Bridging cultures in harmonious yearning;
Chords converge from Andes to the Zangezur, xenharmonic,
Dulcet tones of a duduk—in the air, they whisper.
Every note—an echo of humanity's vibration,
From flamenco's fire to the finesse of a cello's undulation;
Gamelan's gongs—a gamut of sounds' timbre,
Harmonium's hum—hearts and spirits, it serenades.
In India where the sitar intricately resonates
Juxtaposed with jazz as New Orleans quavers;
Kora's strings kiss the breeze as Africa pulses.
Lyrics leap across lands—in mosaic form, it oscillates.
Marimba's mallets are on wooden keys lightly narrate
Ney's notes always navigate in a trance-like murmur;
Oud's ornate voice offers a limericking lyric
Perhaps to partake in profound kinetic kinesis.
Qanun quietly queries—a quivering jumping jubilation
Rhythms resonate—a restorative impressive intonation;
Samba's syncopation—a spirited harking harmony
Tabla's tempo—a testament of gripping grandiloquence.
Uilleann pipes uplift with urgent a fever for fervor
Violins voice the vibrancy of the endless echo;
Whistles and winds—the world's diverse diapason
Xylophone's xylography—a cross-cultural cadence.
Yodeling yonder in the Alps' billowing bellow
Zither's zephyrs—a zenith we accentuate and attune.
Categories:
harking, culture, dance, humanity, music,
Form:
Abecedarian
Softly, it lowers itself from above,
an adagio of light,
whispering eternities into the crevices in the air,
so pure it makes the silence around it audible,
a muted chorus for its song.
A voice that is an androgyny of original beauty,
divorced from Man and Woman,
or harking back to a time when they were one,
a tone so untainted,
it cannot have come from emotion,
yet in its echoes is a boundless empathy,
one that grieves for pain, aches for desire,
cries for loss, hope for hope,
for it is an innocence that nonetheless
understands the burden of humanity
and the price of life,
and in its luminous soarings,
offers a promise that
all this soon will pass.
Then this lone voice is joined by an epiphany of angels,
sonorous with a lullaby for tired souls.
Sing, boys, sing,
before manhood takes away the angel in you,
before a thirst for laughter coarsens your throat
and grounds its weightless timbre,
before tears shed and unshed
salt your voice into a cynic’s cackles,
and you join the calloused throngs
to whom you now choir.
For your voice will soon fall
through clouds and octaves to earth,
and, so fallen, forever lose its
wings.
Categories:
harking, angel, boy, heaven, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
Mull was culled from intestines of smeared thoughts
raking the dandruff of exotic dreams that swelled in nights hot
destined to be doomed in spectres of rejection that loomed
the party grooved on, intentions danced intricate, bodies just symbols
motives targetted serpentine and they had the groove
music lullabied sleepy tunes that went in a roam and soon on fumes
burn this floor that is quaken and singe these spies that have spied
on my peace that is stolen from between you and me
me is identified wind torn--you are quite nameless and faceless
and I am done not harking for soul even..I am so souless.
Categories:
harking, life
Form:
Free verse
TWENTY thousand years after the Lamb.
New nocturnal pulpits here and there,
While He said be united in His name.
Deliverance from misery and maladies,
We now preach. No more poor in spirit?
Abortion, woman-woman, nakedness…we now decree.
No more Sodom and Gomorrah?
FIRST class terror we do implant.
Big tycoons, big bombs; little Afro-Asians, no guns
Because peace is white and terror is black.
Friendly tyrants are free to reign.
You key your country inwards? Beware their bombs.
But they rescued Tripolians! Then, no road to Syria?
After all, wary-farms must be watered;
Terror flames must be fanned;
Otherwise, no business in weaponry.
CENTURY of doom! Faithless, heartless, hopeless Century!
Quake, clash, crash, wreck…here and there!
Coup, riot, strike, mutiny…here and there!
Hear Ozone crying! No yields from Denmark?
I hear AIDS’ troops harking victims to pieces.
Boom, boom, boom, boom…everywhere. Opium! Opium!
Opium in religious sacks! “Musa and John are One”, we must know.
Let’s all kneel before the Lamb
Because every second we are doomed!
Best punctuation of this century? Question mark?
(Published in CHAINING FREEDOM, 2012)
Categories:
harking, inspirational,
Form:
Blank verse