Best Heartened Poems
Behind our house, below the deck
with its pleasing benches and sylvan view,
the back yard we have descends steeply
to a little stream called Chimacum Creek.
It is September, so the Creek’s waters
are shallow, so shallow that
little music from its ripple and flow
rises to meet our eager, listening ears above.
Any day now, the waters will surrender
their serenity and in noisy salute
yield to thrashing thunder,
as salmon spawn and meet their demise.
Sheltering us there from summer’s heat
and winter’s chilled and rainy drench,
a little family of barred owls often call and beg,
their nocturne nearly undisturbed by our home's intrusion.
Outside, my wife stands in solitary contemplation,
for this is her temple, and she its worthy guest.
Yet the minutes and hours pass so slowly now,
as grief stands weary watch with her.
We had grown so accustomed to our dear child’s
heartened ways, as ever eager to greet us
at morning’s hesitant, uncertain dawning glow
as at evening’s surrender to curl upon our bed to sleep.
Jet black hair and soft green eyes—her special dance
each moment to delight us so, we had never ever
thought today would bring us only fading echoes of
all we held so dear in this sweet and tender form.
No matter that she had a tail and two more legs than us,
she lived and loved and spoke with such eloquence
and grace, the best of us were shamed.
Angels withheld not their envy and begged for her return.
So grieve with us a moment, for fled is now
that little feline snowflake in our hand.
My rhyme is vanished; my muse is stilled.
Shadow was her name.
oh, my precious child!
let me kiss away your weep -
do not be troubled, the moon but bids good night
(stars whispering their ancient lullaby)
swallowing not, the western reach
but merely giving pause to the day, waking
so that the grateful star of morn
should adorn its burgeoning bosom
let not the salty seep of your cheek yet trill
such certain and elegant inequity there be
should a stain darken that pinafore, pressed
a scandal be my name with thy mother
should those eyes dampen your Sunday best
and surely not for the sake of Luna's languor -
oh, such dire dalliance, that!
I adore thee, my wee lass
Boundless are the ways -
Echoed in your mother's smile
There, so deep your gaze
'tis true, his aged face did blush, fleeting
dipping his dusty chin to the sea
but it was for Sol's regard only
(their goodnight kiss - pressed tender, a-cheek)
and no misfortune was spun
we shall return, my child, sooner than soon
and you will bear witness their recurrence
your old man moon will beg company again
with his patient aspect beaming
shimmering bright for your veneration -
soft, soft, so daubs the moon
soft as bluebells blooming -
wan on skin to softly swoon
e'er a dream's consuming
yes, I vow this to you, my daughter -
you shall dance again on this shore
bound and prance, my tiny ballerina
you will twirl in the breath of evening, I am sure
lit by the gangling glow, star-ward
and tonight's lament will seem a silly song
you shall see and be heartened, my little one
and should I yet kiss that weep away, too?
ah, but joyous, those tears...
and as the heavens themselves
(and the best born of a father's heart)
how immeasurable their number …
oh, my darling, precious child!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Choice (4), Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 18" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.
This goes far beyond poetry
here I go...
snippets of thoughts
to words
to poetry
to hearts
touching
to smiles
reaching eyes
I am grateful,
I am blessed,
for the friendships formed
of chapbooks and poetry books
to reading books, watching movies
of eating to cooking
…of chocolate, truffles, tiramisu
of jellybeans and mushrooms…
of spam and eggs and mayo
and of course, soup
hot or cold
of trips and falls,
and bumps and stares
and typos...
of it's and its
of i before e,
and a instead of e
of Only Hopes
and Dreams
to sleeping
and NOT sleeping
of music, and drumbeats
of art, and painting
of life, of love, of faith
of jokes and laughter,
of craziness and madness
of contests
and comments
swinging
back and forth
beyond crazy and fun
to body parts
aching, tickling
and of writing about them
of sharing and giving
of thoughts and ideas
of challenges and triumphs
of milestones
of prayers...
of life and of death
of ghosts and doppelgangers
of questions and answers
and answers with questions
of troubles and tears
of secrets and fears
of misunderstanding
and learning
to growing and reaping
of doors opening and closing
of the past and of the future
of the present
of sunshine and rain
darkness and light
of rainbows
and animals, in and out
our lives and our minds
beginnings and endings,
to endings beginning
to cycles,
just going round and round
This is beyond poetry
and I am heartened,
I am blessed
so Thank You
for the poetry…
for the inspiration…
for the friendship.
Sounds so simple,
but it’s from my heart,
it's from my soul
just...Thank You.
0512201112a1228
Bowing head she begins, petitioning assistance, pleading earnestly:
“Forgive me lord, these feelings you inspire have long eluded me,
A stranger in your throne of divinity, I am distressed as can be
Regretful of bygones, replete in misery of blight-ridden streets
Where remnants of my foolish deeds lie dismantled and deplete
Near a battered graveyard, where in repose lies my father’s body,
Sorrowed I stood there, stilled as stone, grieving night all alone
Longing for his forgiveness for things I should have said and done
Choosing instead to be wild and undone, not caring for anyone,
In company of clueless friends where covenants of life I misread
Pretending to celebrate happiness in bonfires of souls wretched;
Sitting on this pew now, guided by invisible hand, I feel glow of light
Going back to my youth, recalling your halo on candles of delight
As feeble beats of my unborn child echo solemn words of prayer
Heartened by your revelations, while unconditional love I declare,
In repentance of contrite past, paying homage to a sanguine start
Gratified you blessed my child, donning enlightenment I’ll depart
In atonement you impart, humming your song in my grateful heart.”
And she steps out into the night crooning lullaby to her beloved child,
A single mother pledging to revise pages of fate in epistle of destiny
Promising to unshroud yesteryear’s dawns in tomorrow’s sunshine,
Vowing to guard her unborn from flawed paradigms, vagaries of time
Poised to defy malevolence in sacred pact with benevolence of life.
October 25, 2021
Placed 1st: Pick-A-Title, Vol 26 – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Invocation
oh, my precious child,
let me kiss away your weep -
do not be troubled, the moon but bids good night,
stars whispering their ancient lullaby,
swallowing not, the western reach,
but merely giving pause to the day, waking
so that the grateful star of morn
should adorn its burgeoning bosom.
let not the salty seep of your cheek yet trill
such certain and elegant inequity there be,
should a stain darken that pinafore, pressed.
a scandal be my name with thy mother,
should those eyes dampen your Sunday best,
and surely not for the sake of Luna's languor -
oh, such dire dalliance, that!
I adore thee, my wee lass
boundless are the ways -
echoed in your mother's smile
there, so deep your gaze.
'tis true, his aged face did blush, fleeting,
dipping his dusty chin to the sea,
but it was for Sol's regard only,
their goodnight kiss - pressed tender, a-cheek
and no misfortune was spun.
we shall return, my child, sooner than soon,
and you will bear witness their recurrence!
your old man moon will beg company again,
with his patient aspect beaming -
shimmering bright for your veneration -
soft, soft, so daubs the moon
soft as bluebells blooming -
wan on skin to softly swoon
e'er a dream's consuming.
oh, I vow this to you, my daughter!
you shall dance again on this shore,
bound and prance, my tiny ballerina!
you will twirl in the breath of evening, I am sure,
lit by the gangling glow, star-ward,
and tonight's lament will seem a silly song,
you shall see and be heartened, my little one!
and should I yet kiss that weep away, too?
ah, but joyous, those tears...
and as the heavens themselves,
and the best born of a father's heart,
how immeasurable their number!
oh, my darling, precious child!
A long, long time ago, when I was young,
on watching skaters move on Poets’ Pond,
(some gliding with great skill, some taking falls).
I donned skates of my own and I began. . .
Around, around I went, and in my mind,
a lilting rhythm came and said to me:
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON.
But I was youthful, restless, uninspired. . .
I left that pond and put my skates away,
to take a path removed from poetry.
Ten years became a decade, then ten more,
and suddenly, a new millennium!
My muse, now heartened, came to me and brought
those skates, which for so long, I had not used.
A bit unsure, I stood beside that pond.
The skates seemed more attractive now. They gleamed!
And something else - new thoughts came to my mind!
The things I’d dreamed and lost; the things I’d gained
came flooding over me; then said my muse -
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON. . .
I noticed all around me other souls
who often showed completely different styles!
Some glided with elaborate smooth moves
while others whirled and danced with arabesques.
The artists leapt and made me catch my breath,
another group did spins to make me laugh.
Some moved, at times, with jolts, and some fell down,
but rarely did a one of them fall out!
For all of them shared passion for one thing -
and so to Poets’ Pond we’d all been drawn.
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON,
my sweet muse whispered, and I could not stop.
I tried to model those who skated free,
for some of them made circles all around
me, and I dearly wished that I could be
among that group, glean popularity!
But all I really know and like to do
is move to my own beat. Iambic skates
are those that fit me best. No world-class star
I’ll ever be in poetry’s new world,
but ON I’ll go - and ON and ON and ON. .
It took two days but I drank the oceans dry
Spat out the salt creating deserts beneath a cloudless sky
I ripped a mountain from the earth and deposited it on the moon
Blew down a giant forest with one breath, not a single leaf remained in bloom
Turned the sun down a notch or two and redirected its rays to lessen global warming
Swept clouds to where rain was needed and sunshine to where rain was pouring
Rerouted rivers far and wide so that arid lands might bloom
Capped all menacing volcanoes on the Earth and shut down their noxious plumes
Confiscated the wealth of the greedy and redistributed it to the starving masses
Ripped the guns from the hands of a million sociopaths and kicked their useless asses
Tracked down Greed, Envy, Hate and War and crushed them into dust
Released Love and Compassion from their steel chains, forever eliminating mistrust
If all this be a dream and when I awake I find I'm still merely mortal
I will still be heartened by the fact that "hope still burns eternal"
(note: The site restrictions don't allow long epic poems, so I have split this into 6 segments, each should run straight on from the previous one.)
THE EYE OF THE SEA
Or
The Rime of the Ancient Kubla Kahn on the Road to Mandalay
There washed ashore a devil’s whore
Who claimed he’d never been paid,
Near dead from Sin, or weatherin’
Yet feared to loose his blade.
We did our best to ease his rest,
But our experts all were vexed:
The Old Wives College exhausted their knowledge;
The doctors cursed their texts.
Wracked with pain his life had waned
His eyes were growing dim,
His final words were barely heard:
Everything looked grim.
With chicken pills we cured his chills,
For strength we gave him broth,
His brow was mopped, his temperature watched,
We swaddled him in sailcloth.
Then from afar with strengthened heart
As if ‘twere heaven’s game
His mien changed, he had regained
The pilot to his flame.
In heartened mood we gave him food,
And bade his tale be told;
And so he spoke for the price of a toke
And a butcher’s bag of gold.
“ ‘Twas in the port of Herringford,
Where all the cows lie down,
A skipper talked, he claimed he sought
A crew of great renown.
The wind was high in a sunless sky,
The waves were barreling in,
And word got round of men to be found
That night at The Mortal’s inn.
At eight o’clock the bolts were shot
And all were locked within,
With muttered words of rumours heard
And lubricant of Gin.
The Captain coughed and glanced around
For conversations shed,
With laser gaze and aged malaise,
In a darkened voice he said:
‘Into the storm at the crack of dawn
We sail on the morning tide,
Let no man here betray his fear,
His passion or his pride!’
The aim of the endeavour was legend’ry treasure,
The fabled crystal ship of the Prince,
Lost years before off the Straits of Nepal,
And famously quested for since.
Our boat, ‘The Eye,’ was a Barquentine,
Just a quarter league in length,
She sailed as sweet as a sackful of eight,
With grace and speed and strength.
Twelve good men without pretence
Agreed to the journey ahead,
But the cheery tales of places sailed
Belied their inner dread.
The crew we got were a hardy lot,
Experienced one and all,
But none were fools and caution ruled
When it came to signing aboard.
Continued on The Eye of the Sea part 2
Hearts hear happiness breathing
Heavenly hope free of grieving
Hesitating a healing hearth leading
Home that happens to be heaving
Harm that has heard the pleading
Haunting hastening toward the meaning
Horse and buggy that hauls a load
Handles the hollow form of the code
Heartened heart who has always rode
Hoarded heavily inside their abode
Hoping to heal the heartiest ode
Having hopefulness which has flowed
Hallucinating a haven that might explode
Horseplay which leaves all of creation
Hope of a second chance to avoid temptation
Heaven happens to heal every relation
Hastening us all to last through the duration
Hues of angelic halos remind us of salvation
Alliteration Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
December 6, 2020
A heartfelt tribute to Ukraine and its people,
and all other nations and their citizens, for patriotically defending
their motherland against tyranny and cruelty.
A Wish For Peace To Appease
It will be light soon, yet an upheaval devastates to extremes
Time sadly blanket bleakness on landscapes and of the living
Finding serenity missing, tears upon cheeks flow into ravines
A pledge corroded without a word, no whisper, nor a warning
Rippling wave of human despair triggered by war heightened
Fear inundated with rage the gleam of the sun cannot soothe
Battered fragments of hope palpable in the eye of the pained
In essence, dejection needing real salvation, remain resolute
Casualties in armed conflicts derails even the most tenacious
The innocence of youth deprived of innate maternal embrace
Ambiguity is a lingering reality to those in the midst of chaos
While peace seems elusive, a unifying force unveils the maze
To patriots needing to depose autocrat invading their country
Crafting silver bullets aimed at vile men flaunting supremacy
My heartened spirit stands alongside and honor their bravery
They will undeniably reclaim freedom with dignity, in victory!
10/10/2022
1:24 P.M.
Aboard cruise liner:
"Rhapsody of the Seas"
Athens, Greece
Unbearable thoughts barreling through my head
Decaying in this silent chamber...
Where I desperately cry for help
Words come out useless...I have no capability to yelp
They haven't collapsed in the hands of the unforgiving jail-keeper
This pain grows in my bones...making me weaker
No one bothers to consider me
Circulated by envious glory
That snicker at my carrion body as it drops in dripping failures
Dragged by the sickening thought of living with jailers
As if i had no outlook to life...
I'm still placed in this cold-heartened chamber
Because I'm drenched in silence...
haunted by the deafening atmosphere
sensing a load of terrorized fear
Shame embraced me, never leaving my presence
Cautious of the hovering thoughts,
transforming itself into my dreadful, panicky past
This hopelessness doesn't seem to matter
In this chamber of deceitfulness
Someday...hopefully Someday...
This silent chamber will shatter
For now, I'll abide in this loathsome,
silent chamber
Until God, My Savior, will shatter this wretched place
Into smithereens
The amore in your eyes seemed faithful and true,
Had me deceived by love and blinded by you.
Broken heartened, I was left at sea to drown in passion’s agony.
The only one left in this relationship who thinks our love should take an
encored dance
In my heart I desire you to dare you to take another romantic chance.
My heart was once fulfilled with happiness and now poisoned with sorrow's bitter
emptiness.
I’ll surrender my soul for one last kiss.
Don’t let this be our final rose, don’t let our love dismiss.
Never really gotten to say…
How deeply I love you and how desperately I want you to stay.
Without your eternal flame my skies are bathed with dark shadows and vigorous
rain.
This is my true confession of my passionate pain.
I gaze upon your beauteous face
Hair soft and fair, like delicate lace
Heartened by your most beguiling glance
Emboldened during this sensual dance
I guide you onto the balcony
Away from the loud cacophony
I reach my hand ‘round your slender waist
Clumsily grabbing air in my haste
Drawing you near, both our breaths mingling
In moments I feel my loins tingling
Your charms surpass those of all women
I find myself totally smitten
Whispering my name with crimson lips
You let your hand slide over my hips
I tilt your chin to my loving stare
Then kiss your lips by my own dare
We both unleash unbridled passion
Parting lips in similar fashion
I want you now and forever more
To cherish, love and always adore
Say yes my dear and accept this ring
And see what joy our marriage will bring
Writing, breathless, through sighing azure skies
With pens of hope, not pausing to chastise,
Script so bold, leaving poems in disguise
Weaving words, gentle smiles – echo across the miles
Beautiful lies, best whiles – brushing light through trials
Forever dreams, bold as the artist’s brush
Rhythmic praises, whistling like the wood thrush
Hues of joy and love, heartened by the hush
Leaking kindness through grace - glowing flames, warm embrace
Rustling with the moon’s chase – feelings doubt can’t erase
Revealing peace beyond the soul’s surprise
Moonlight bids relief to hectic lifestyles
Sighing through the spirit, a gentling gush
Bringing repose from the silent sun’s place
"How sweet to the heart are the scenes of my childhood"
Samuel Woodworth, 1785-1842
As the night rolled into a darkness rich
With glimmering fireflies, vibrant, quiet
And happy, charming, able to bewitch
I caught them in Mason jars that riot
Lights going on and off, soft, so soothing
Breathing graceful whispers that sigh “try it”
Moon and stars flicker through my heart’s frothing
Caressing hopes with dreams alive and bright
Wrinkles of doubt are loud and need smoothing
Inspiration soon heartened me to write
Paint pages with hues of fervent desire
Reach out with verses that expose my plight
Warm words color my spirit like wildfire
Lighting my world in passionate attire
Terza Rima Form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
November 17, 2020