Best Heraldry Poems
I didn’t ask for help.
Yet someone heard
my inward crying voice
without a word.
“When the student is ready
a teacher will appear”
somehow it seems these teachers
pop up everywhere.
Their words were subtle
pointed darts
that caused me endless
fits, and starts.
There was no Hallelujah Chorus
no heraldry of trumpets din
just a presence in my life
every now and then.
I never asked for help
yet somehow they saw my need
and placed within my heart
an ever growing seed.
They cut the bindings loose
freed me from my tethers
drifted slowly through my life
without ruffling my feathers.
©8/10/2018
for New Rhyming Poems On Angels Poetry Contest
With return to summer tree of berries red -
he flashes ‘tween the green scene like a trinket;
celebrant in citrus hues of sunset bled
it matters not if twilight is delinquent
for he wears the molten shades of end-of-day
evening’s pout, in skies of gray, reflects dismay;
a zesty orange-envy oriole brings
for he torches air aflame... a flame with wings.
Susan Ashley
October 5, 2020
(June 7, 2020)
Rispetto lyric rhyme scheme: abab ccdd
Poet’s note: I am lucky enough to have these beautiful summer migrants, Baltimore orioles, return to my mulberry tree and hummingbird feeders each Spring. Such a sweet joy through the summer season! When they depart at the end of August, a piece of my heart goes with them.
A Gods Eye View of The World
Every form blends and fades
Persistent though
And meaningful
Below from top to bottom slides
Encompassed by
Itself
Describes a purpose
To shift from one to another
And never made less
Than the original
Veins and circulars entwined
Each led to destiny
Between crags and breezes
The formation
Forces of opposition
And tendrils equate
The indefatigable line of being
A mingled sea of light
Transposes through shadow
Arch and rock
Air indivisible
A vibrant salute continues
In a heraldry of birth
Festooned upon the relinquished
A sleeping crown
All appears dancing
A choreography of miniatures
And magnitude beyond thinking
Swift sent of consciousness
Awakened in a tide
Of gesture
And slow somnambulant time
Picks blades or petal
From hair or eye
Thus is its passing
A present unending momentum
Between the washing colour
Of an unseen spectrum
A fluid solidity of dust
On which inscribed imaginations
Pallet of brilliance
Careless even reckless
In its precision of chaos
The full monument of awareness
And spoken singular
Undivided
Unsullied
Stands between feet and sky
Between earth and star
An infinitesimal populace
Of essence and core
Scattered seeds individually planted
To witness
The realms of awe
( Thank you for this poem ).
G'day eclectic nation..From citys to outback stations, in the canefields and wheatbelts
Where the heat hugs , yet sweat cools you if
You move right.?
And you follow bush rules, in that searing light
To those dunking their akubra.' To Yalata where
They fixed my metal.. To those up on
The ridges and on bar stools settled, to the marchers who are moving, and the loosers
Who are ( booing ') who are realising the freedom, that so many sacrificed for and
Believed in ' I wish to you enlightennent ' and
To those displaced by designs not of benign intent, currently toughing it under
The shelter of tents.' I wish you strength
And health.' And a return to a better commonwealth.' Not one of crown and pomp and heraldry, yet one of mateship
For each man and woman who be, the holders of continuity..The rememberers
Of the best we can be..I am marching with
You all in spirit..And beleive no sky will limit, share a smile and hugs, pull up a rug.'
Australia day ( is here to stay ) God bless and guide all love i say.'
The engine: Long and black
And sleek as she could be
She shook the earth in her approach
As her heraldry.
An atmosphere of steam and smoke
Expanding in her wake
The Queen-of-the-Rails speeds on
An arrival soon to make.
Massive is her presence
Enormity her design
Power is her excess
This Queen is so refined
Once she ruled with majesty
When o’er the rails she flew
But … now, this one last time,
The railway bids: “Adieu”.
Slowly when she comes to stop
We see she’s thoroughbred
When water, steel and hard, black coal
Within her there are wed.
Her regal-ness resplendent
In fittings’ shining bright
Commanding our respect
O’er the rails of her last flight.
Now sitting at the siding
She’s puffing rhythmic breath
The museum’s destination
Of her life commits its’ theft.
Photographs will mimic
Her image of today
But missing from those photos:
Glories of Yesterday
When o’er the steel she thundered
Demanding from all who saw
Respect for Her grand power
Which held them all in awe.
But Glory, she found, was fleeting
When “progress” came to call
Her future then was set in stone
In the writing on the wall.
Now we hear the brake release …
Her throttle then is moved …
She inches down the shiny track
Where the land with steel is grooved
Then as she gains her speed
And whistles out her “yell”
An announcement for all to hear:
“I know I’ve served you well!”
She’s journeyed through the ages
And a boy – an old man now -
Watches as she fades away -
He waves, then shouts out: “Ciao!”
But in his mind is yesteryear
With his dog there by his side
Watching near the railroad tracks
Where the Queen-of-the-Rails did ride.
And long from now whenever
He says: “Remember when …”
In those times of reverie,
She’ll come alive … again.
"The Begin Again Beings"
A family of swords
the world under their feet
to all that is fallen in the
darkened passages beneath,
slipped on crushed pearls of tears
rivulets running down
a body of work pierced,
the milky powder swallowed
from the shells of wisdom,
much stronger than Bex,
a slither still remaining,
dulled the pain,
somewhat,
for a short while,
until it was fully consumed
and exhausted - then,
without warning,
the unstable ground
ripped, captured pages,
altered the blood let secrets
that seeped 6ft underground -
through the cracks,
one would postulate
that this was a doleful,
how to articulate?
there is only one way -
experience exsanguinate;
their charbroiled armour
now tarnished darker,
nourished the unseen seeds
of the Begin Again Beings
and their shoots shifted
from blunderbuss bullets
and cutting swords
pulled from stones,
to quills flourished
and bowing
to the never ending
silent war of roses;
breaking the surface rot,
growth was slowly seen
breaching up towards the Sun,
in the time of another’s
war strewn
journée poétique
Golden Trumpets
stood with Lilys-of-the-Fields
and Blue Lantana its
thistle down blown apart,
scattered and carried in waves
across the blue sky clouds,
to propagate and adorn
the thorny crowns
of black ravens
sitting on the shoulders
of their beloved
scarecrow masters,
their heraldry requiring
blood and the water
to dissolve their
steadfast blindfolds,
to clearly see as doves,
the beautiful great mystery
of the forgotten ones,
standing their ground
triumphant, never left,
never leaving,
bathed for all time
in the Sun
this is "1" story
of The Begin Again Beings
and how their well-fought for kingdom
was won
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Born into poverty
Instead of heraldry
Disappointment struck me glum
Square peg in a round hole
Ends up on the dole*
Got no money and I want some
My nights of abandon
Were strictly rationed
Contraception isn't cheap
Then into these drab nights
No warmth and no lights
Fed up of counting sheep
You came and you stained
the sheets and the bed frame
Your self indulgence left me sore
You left me white
and a terrible sight
But still I craved for more
But if I had money
You'd stick with me honey
You wouldn't leave me in this mess
But I'm just a pauper
Can't support a daughter
(Finances) stretch to a budgie at best
Well she cut her hair
and dated a millionaire
Splashing cash has such allure
But, he beats her senseless
Then buys her a new dress
She's not happy, but she's 'secure'
He has and I have not
I want what he's got
The irony is - I had it once
He went to Cambridge and Eton
He's got me down and beaten
He's left me feeling such a dunce
The moral then sonny
Is those who have money
Will always get the best of both worlds
So if your not rich
Then life's a b***h
So go find yourself a rich girl
*old fashioned term for social security payments in the UK.
[This is actually a song rather than a poem, which I wrote almost 30 years ago - when I was full of angst and acne! Can't find or remember the music I wrote for it though - shame]
I'm just a sputtering old fool,
Muttering old school rules,
When times made more sense,
And neighbors were your friends.
Now trapped by utter frailty,
And fear of today's reality,
My moistened eyes fasten,
Upon the new age reaction.
No longer do we aspire,
No longer do we inspire,
Religious or national pride,
For now we must take it all in stride.
That which can utterly,
Steal pride in God and country...
Oh I'm a sputtering old fool,
Just muttering old school rules.
You open doors and say Mamm',
You do everything you can,
You give to the poor and especially,
Love your neighbors, friends and family.
For it is in giving all that you have,
Caring, sharing and loving all you can,
Which tells the greatest story about you,
And lives on in heraldry and tribute.
‘ Legendary … ’ ( Part 1 (of) 4 )
Step with me into History
Step with me, to ‘Days of Yore’ Pageantry
Let Time and Mind, March Back Momentarily
Let Mist and Musings … Merge in Front of Thee …
… On Mare, or Mighty-Destrier … Ride Along with Me
In Rich-Carriage, or Hay Wagon … Come Along with Me
Thru The Forests … See The Hunters, Plying Falconry
Thru The Elms, See Caravan … of A Girl-Gypsy
Over Sunny Knoll, and Shady Dale … Onward We Journey
By, Merchant-Trade, Lo’!... We Made – A Medieval City !
… Now, Hear Drummers, Beat Cadence … Dramatically
Hark, The Trumpets, Blare Forth, Thunderously
… Hear A Herald Invite: “ Hear Ye’ - All Heraldry “
Come to The Ball; Lyre and Mandolin Pluck Persuasively
a Lone Flute, Floats a Tune … so Melodiously
Perchance … Join The Dance and Step Accordingly
Twirl and Whirl, Do A Bassa’ … then Bow and Curtsy
Forsooth, from the word ‘Court’, comes such ‘Courtesy’
And Tis’ Adamant, for Manners, Donned in Such Finery
Swirling in Silk Gowns, Vests and Veils with Embroidery
… Gemmed-Cloaks, Headdress and Hose, Bedecked in Luxury
bearing Crested-Medallions and Daggers: There is no Subtlety
amid Scented Candles, Flowered Columns and Alcove Settees
and Banquets, where Sweetmeats and Puddings were made Ready
… also Victuals of Venison, Fruits, Cheese, Wine and Meade Aplenty
for The Wayfarer and Time-Traveler, who Ventures Back With Me …
And Now … may Troubadour … Spin A Tale, So Precisely
Aye … May Bard, Weave Thee Well, into This Tapestry …
Chorus:
Sweet Wine On My Lips … Drip In Ecstasy
Sweet Touch On My Hips … Smooth as Warm Honey
Sweet Love of My Soul … Last An Eternity
Sweetheart, Be Thou Bold … In Bravery …
… and if Sweet Talk, Be A Token … and Language Be Spoken …
… Be Legendary … Be Thou Legendary
( Part 1 (of) 4 )
A Cinderella chariot,
Eight horses in the lead;
Two heavy looking crowns that seemed
Uncomfortable, indeed.
A scepter and an ermine robe,
An orchestra and choir,
With all that pomp and heraldry
Intended to inspire.
The royal family on board,
Except the ones estranged;
The military marchers
And the guests, just-so arranged.
Amazing to bear witness to
The history, the bling.
I joined the world to watch
The coronation of a king.
Germ of essence.
Human blob.
Shattered eggshell to the chicklet hatched.
Interlocking family of a kingdom.
Beget or begone? Antigone!
Pouch bearing mammal with no issue for her milk a plenty.
Enlightened species on
a zodiac sign.
Propagating genus wild and free yet stillborn.
Wet nurse in a pregnant phase but still a child at hearth or so it seems.
Meadow grazing Macropod fazes antipodean observer all the while.
New arrival signage whose laboured footprint chills on every impact.
Courier from catacombs, fateful torch aloft, flambeau at a glance where toddlers cheer, sonnet form heraldry ablaze with kindling verse.
Human destination thread that spins a hopeful tale.
Cave of legends halting site persevered by household zeal.
Stalagmite, stalactite, granite grey day gulag’s natal spasm.
Troglodyte who once did tramp upon a uterine tunnel trading in survival for relief.
Embryonic creeper stuck on dry wall canvas.
Border crossing cradle cordons off a check point, never mind the cost or inconvenience.
Acorn random toss, mighty oak seed trap between a leaf and fallen log.
Flower pollen stigma,
never seen as shameful to the fertile mind.
Tree of life penumbra casts a limelight shade.
Concepts pulse the mind like nascent parabolic kites that stymie outcome.
Genesis of brainwave.....
nurtured by insightful minds and marble carver tomes.
Olympic status offspring, budding Einstein player on the ball.
Thought, the inner urchin magnet probing deep inside magenta labyrinths.
Wheel of fortune‘s mumsy shadow
ova.
Masterful philosophy storing foetal logic on some growth cell’s wellspring fountain.
Infant augur embers fan their winter flame regardless.
Birthright , birthstone,
birth pang, the reproductive organs of infinity whose algebraic series has no final chapter scheduled.
Sunrays
Heavens entry with sun rays of golden honey
Silent prayers yield skies of blue heraldry
Cool early night arrival, time of autumns shedding leaves
Tree boughs amber and bronze patches
Water color cotton candy, sunset splashes
Shade screen unfurl to the wind
As autumn leaves start to ride on sail and find
Quenching thirst of the clean, sweet air
To see when our eyes are open to October
Sunny laughter where robins sing
Grounds on fire rich golden orange, browns, reds cling
10/24/2016
On the other side of the world
(pick any side)
you find a lost penny,
it is encrusted with layers of your skin
and is as dry as long spilled blood.
You find there the baleful,
the emblematic heraldry of woe.
The fool behind the knave,
both the henchman and the harlequin,
the sinister wink of the Jack of Hearts.
On that far-side, mirrors face inward
to nothing but yourself.
You see your image raging in an empty room.
You look upon the unhinged horror
of that unleashed autonomy of the many
as they run to the cliff edge as one.
Better to say at home - if you can find one.
Better to rent space in a larger cage,
better to be blinded by bewilderment
than end there, raving for no reason.
On that reverse side of anywhere
an ill-faced moon hangs sallow
alive and hollow, it is a bare and vexing glare,
a feud everlasting,
a fathomless quaff of odium
and an enemy
to every Spring flowering of love.
Don't go there - maybe you cannot,
maybe you don't know the way?
Then stay,
stay with those ghosts you know.
Do not ever dream or think to go.
Pray to that God deep rooted in your mind -
seek you there and hope to find.
Father my Heraldry to charge;
You're a shield, my shield...O' God
And you impaled me;
With your two coats of arms;
Placed side by side;
Father, you often fall by on, you impaled me;
Father, you pierce me with a sharp instrument,
Your Son Jesus has impaled me with His mercies;
And you impaled me;
Once a sinner man filled with filthy sins;
God your Word, your Sword they have so...
Impaled me;
You impaled my severed sin-filled head on a spear;
Allowed me to bleed out my shames, all my fears;
Father God, I forever thank you;
Impale me;
"Father, enclose me with pales of fencing;
My heart is entrenching;
Pierce me my spirit, heart soul and mind impale me O Holy divine;
Impaling those of the sovereign things, so caring;
As the impaled arms of The Father brings;
O' God harpoon me lance and gore me;
Disembowel, puncture, perforate, transpierce me;
Forgiving Father, transfix, pierce, stab, run through me;
Allow your Sword of the Spirit;
To again and again and always perforate continually transpierce me
With your love and mercies, I thank you, Father,
For you have Impaled me;
Father enclose me with pales of fencing;
My heart is entrenching;
Pierce me my spirit, heart soul and mind impale me O Holy divine;
Impaling those of the sovereign things you bring so caring,"
Impaled me;
7/21/19
Placed 10th place in Contest
Impaled Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausin
A story of a thousand souls,
Two thousand runs into three,
Who are just as dead, decaying, gone,
Despite self-serving heraldry.
A story of a thousand souls,
And thousands more to be killed,
Who never reached for bomb nor gun,
And died to keep our gas tanks filled.