Best Herded Poems
Not to be taken lightly, I burnt all my clothes
Cut the tattoos off my back, tore pins from my nose
Foraged for food particles, where wild beasts reposed
Lapped water vapour off thorns, when the thirst arose
My identity gone, I herded mountain goats
Built a makeshift altar, one by one, slit their throats
Looking to the heavens, chanting primeval quotes
Tell me what to do, this sacrifice I devote
But silence returned, I knew nothing else mattered
The goats now all dead, my hands blooded and spattered
A local tribe watched on, their souls not so shattered
Idolised me, then to the four winds they scattered
After two score and ten, they returned unforetold
Carrying symbols, textbooks, diamonds, and gold
Smiling in joy, I asked what stories they behold
All wrote versions of my life in books, but mistold
Some had butchered nations, said it was in my name
Others brainwashed little children, feeling no shame
The rest knocked on doors, telling lies they heal the lame
Scamming billions of sesterces, their one true aim
I condemned the lies, but was a very bad call
They burst into laughter, and pointed to their haul
Just then everything made sense, as I do recall
Killing goats made me, the biggest scapegoat of all
Categories:
herded, abuse, corruption, how i
Form:
Rhyme
A sword of the heavens did glean
From railings and arbors
of dead thorn and bramble,
where ghostly reminders remain
Fall droplets of blood ‘pon
a crimson embroider
left carelessly out in the rain
Our story begins
in a deep mountain valley,
a village so peaceful and free
When one day the darkness
did unsheathe its horror
with metal and death you will see
The army of Satan,
a wicked battalion,
Hell’s fire their sabers were forged
Dark Skeletal visions
in leather and armor
the depths of the earth had been gorged
With razor sharp weapons,
they slashed and delivered
such pain which had never been found
Through echoes of pleading
and lives quickly ending
in puddles, thick red on the ground
While women and children
were herded like cattle
in mass to the edge of the square
With onyx eyes leering,
midst snickers and cackles,
their captors insanely did stare
When on the horizon
a light brightly shining,
engulfing this nightmarish scene
A porcelain stallion,
its rider a shadow,
a sword of the heavens did glean
From steel hard as granite,
angelic depictions,
a handle of pure solid gold
Once heard in a fable,
when wizards were roaming
such power, the stories foretold
As swift as an arrow
he entered the village,
his steed all at one with the game
With blade silver glistened,
like lightning bolts flashing,
igniting a righteous born flame
Spinning and thrusting
as if a tornado,
a blur now incensed of the glow
With whirlwind fury
and dust clouded thunder,
he dealt them a terrible blow
The evil fueled army,
beheaded and fallen,
the villagers shouted and cheered
When to their amazement,
this heroic savior
as quick as he’d come, disappeared
So there is the story,
a sword made in heaven
is now part of history’s reign
Along with the rider
who wielded its honor,
and hopes he will come back again
9/13/18
Written for the UNSHEATH YOUR SWORD Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
Categories:
herded, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
"I stood still and was a tree amid the wood,
Knowing the truth of things unseen before;"
. . .
"Nathless I have been a tree amid the wood
And many a new thing understood
That was rank folly to my head before."
--- from The Tree, by Ezra Pound
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Slender, singular, filamentous fir,
Yellowing larch -- these trees
Do not speak but seem to sleep,
Sheltering skinny sheep
Handily herded -- full-fleeced
In lanolin-laden wool.
Sheep do not sleep much.
They speak their protest --
(Such ineffective baas) --
To cloning and to closeness.
All, doubles of the ovine others,
Crowded among brothers,
Cowering under silent wood:
Dissimilar dark fir;
Lone, yellowing
Larch.
Categories:
herded, allegory, life, nature, sad,
Form:
Free verse
A humid afternoon , in the middle of August, has nothing much to commend about it. I can hear the humming of air conditioning coming from both sides of a familiar old street. It's too hot for even the ardent gardener to be out and about, and sidewalks are deserted, while children are herded into backyard wading pools. Clouds are softly framed in bands of charcoal grey.
I stand on the corner, waiting for the light to change, and waiting for cars to allow me to cross the street.
rush hour traffic...
bees circle the elm trees with
no notice of me
I approach the old Victorian, and can't help but notice how painted shutters need repair, and the garden needs weeding. Wild devil-grass is taking over the wind-whipped faces of dreary, old zinnias. Seeing it so unkempt, makes me a little sad
Drooping over the sidewalk, thirsty roses lean over to greet me, as I ring the bell. The old woman opens the door and suddenly her unbridled joy upon greeting me, has put sparks in eyes, and softened her face, while my worrisome mood evaporates, like a freshly-washed day. I'm quickly ushered into the talcum-scented foyer of friendship.
a wilted blossom
still beautiful in my palm....
new lines in her face
________________________________________________
7/19/15 For Contest Sponsored by Scott Thirtyseven
Categories:
herded, age, august, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Haibun
There was once a king who decided that for him - beauty was silence.
He issued a decree that all sound was banished henceforth and that his land would forever more be as silent as snow. To enforce this impossible law he sent countless envoys to every corner of the land. Every creature was informed. No birds can sing. No dogs must bark. No man, woman or child could speak their needs and must now make them known by signs. Even the very thunder was ordered to be mute.
The penalty of course was death. Few were able to obey.
Flocks of birds were shot from the heavens. Dogs were slain before their master’s eyes. All the trees were stripped of leaves lest the wind should sigh through them. Brooks were frozen so water could not splash or gurgle down the stream beds.
It was like a permanent winter with bare trees and frozen ground.
Children at play were wiped out without mercy. Cows being herded were bombed for lowing. This unmerciful killing went on for many years.
The merest sound so angered the King that he ordered atrocious punishments for offenders that he did not kill.
The talents of artist were in great demand as they painted cards for all occasions for people to flash. in lieu of speaking. The effect on the population was to cause the formation of many covert societies where secret meetings, when betrayed, were raided and countless murders committed by the ‘silence’ enforcers.
The King was greatly feared by everyone and dubbed “Snowman - the Silencer”
Generations of good people were wiped out. Countless noisy species were hunted to extinction. Music was never heard or played.
Silent clocks were invented. Sound-proof rooms were built. Some desperate parents, to protect their children, opted to have their babies larynx-es removed at birth.
The King was surrounded by silent apathetic, joyless subjects.
The King’s obsession had effectively destroyed all the people, the life and the environment around him.
How much easier it would have been, if he, in wanting silence had only thought to destroy his own eardrums.
Categories:
herded, allegory, evil, humanity, power,
Form:
Prose
the eagle watches me
from high above
it has finally come to this
I stand on this ragged lookout
this jagged rock
alone
my friends are gone
Bruce "Bear Paw" Perry
Billy Fly and Blackpowder Bourgoin
died in these mountains
one by one
we shouldered hardships together
fought a winter
that pinched three toes
from my right foot
and took a bite of my left ear
I'll never understand
those flatlanders down below
where spring means mud
eating pigs and chicken
when they could be roasting elk
but the boosway is gone
rendezvous cancelled
no beaver left
heck, there's no wild Indians left
they've all been herded
into reservations
near the forts
a pitiful place
for a proud people
what is left for me?
where will I lay my trusty
Hawken gun?
perhaps I'll work
in a trading post
or guide wagon trains west
I've earned every tear
these mountains had to offer
battled bear, wolves, and hostiles
but my biggest sorrow
is leaving
I close my eyes
and I'm there
spring ice melting in the river
trading with my Indian brothers
smoking the peace pipe
the rustle of golden birch leaves
on an Autumn ridge
a misty waterfall
soaking me to the skin
throwing peat moss
on the roof of my log cabin
I think I'll just linger here
while the birds are singing
Categories:
herded, appreciation, change, sad, senses,
Form:
Free verse
Please, grant me the vision of thirsty eyes
to drink in the golden summer hour
held captivated by the windswept sky
Where crows circle low, insistent with cries
and meadows are ablaze with wildflower
Please, grant me the vision of thirsty eyes
Herded cattle graze, among windblown tides
while tall oaks, shade them with ancient powers,
held captivated by the windswept sky
The steep hilled slopes, where purple lupine thrive
scent the warm air with sweet fragrant showers
Please, grant me the vision of thirsty eyes
Heaven opens wide, while my breath replies
as clouds stacked high, are rose crimson towers,
held captivated by the windswept sky
As the day dissolves, slowly fades and dies,
my eyes resolve and my heart devours
Please, grant me the vision of thirsty eyes
Held captivated by the windswept sky
_______________________________________
For the contest sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
6/8/10 --- Revised and edited 6/17/15
Categories:
herded, drink, me, nature, peace,
Form:
Villanelle
Once our land stretched from coast to coast
and the drums of the people beat proud
we were mighty and we were strong
we were happy . . .
then the white came to our shores
they thought our land was theirs to take
they called it Canada
they brought disease unknown to us
when we fought for what was ours they killed us
and we killed to . . .
we were a savage people true and skilled at death
many of our chiefs were tricked to come in peace
many of our chiefs were hung . . .
they called this justice
the whites stole our land and our way of life
they massacred the buffalo and bear only for their fur
and left their rotting bodies and we wept for them
the ancestors of our people fly with the eagles
drifting and falling on the wind
their cry is our cry . . .
we were herded into reservations like cattle
starved into submission and left a broken people
and they called this justice
but in each of us burns a fire bright that can never die
in each of us is a strength and courage
a tranquility and serenity
we accept the past as the white acknowledge the wrongs
and the Prime Minister of Canada
is trying to say sorry
with tears he apologizes to the people for
the hangings
the killing of our people
the stealing of our land
the 1960 scoop of our children
the residential schools of abuse
the highway of tears that goes on and on
yet, the social injustice to the people is still present today
when they steal the land we have left
for pipelines, and other projects without our agreement
we want to keep our lands pristine for wildlife
we do not want polluted water where the fish die
some of us are living in third world conditions still
with no water, electricity, heat . . . still on reservations
so you tell me where the justice is . . .
I am just a girl of the here and now but
but I hear the drums of my ancestors beating
in my heart . . .
_____________________
April 1, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/They Call This Social Justice
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1009-383-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Social Justice
sponsor, John Hamilton
First Place
Categories:
herded, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
Around that table, picture the scene
Self appointed leaders if you know what I mean
What were the topics on the Agenda that day
The Jewish race is about to pay
Who gave the right for this decision that's made
Who has the right to cleanse and degrade
To decide who lived, to decide who dies
Another chapter, I still wonder why
They came in the day they came in the night
Women and children pulled out of sight
Herded aboard like cattle and sheep
Many a family awoke from their sleep
Dazed and confused as they are taken away
Where will they be at the end of the day
From their warm houses and their warm beds
What must be going through their heads
As they travel through days and through the night
Up ahead, they see lots of lights
They depart the trucks and board the train
Their faces scared under the strain
Asking questions from family and others
Generations, sisters and brothers
Why are we here, where are we going
Windowless carriages with no way of knowing
We come to a stop, soldiers aplenty
Towers and wire, topped with sentries
What can this place be they have taken us to
As we head to large gates as they shuffle us through
Families separated, herded in file
Women and children, not one did smile
Taken to rooms where our heads were shaved
Is this the way humans behaved
Clothes discarded, as we enter the shower
No signs of water no signs of power
Doors slammed as we are all crammed in
History will recall this evil of sins
As we stand in the dark, chanting Jewish faith
Can hear the voices can't see the face
Noises above, do the showers start
The event has begun that tells us Humans apart
Questions and sighs, as walled vents show daylight
Some thing is falling then their slammed tight
A strange aroma starts to fill the air
As all around are screams of despair
Twenty minutes have passed and the quietness is rife
Two thousand people, two thousand lives
Pellets called HCN, or Hydrogen Cyanide
Contribute to this Genocide
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
Categories:
herded, angst, brother, childhood, daughter,
Form:
Rhyme
Alas! Truth Points To Man's Deep Hate
This dangerous world's love for war
with its evil and far flung stones
has done far too much to atone.
Fear now rules, man has gone too far!
Peace and paradise now mere dreams
with airy soiled beds there unkept
lives herded into dying streams.
Some seeing, with sad tears have wept!
Who shall arise to this world save
for such looming and massive clouds
predict too many early graves.
Earth filled with radiation shrouds!
Alas! Truth points to man's deep hate
future days wrapped in hell's hot breath
we repent, else find that dark fate
Will our legacy be such death!
This dangerous world's love for war
with its evil and far flung stones
has done far too much to atone.
Fear now rules, man has gone too far!
Robert J. Lindley, 7-04-2017
NOTE- Written for Carol Duet's Facebook initiative,
"Poetry of Peace".
Categories:
herded, art, conflict, humanity, judgement,
Form:
Rhyme
Before it all began.....
Before our country in fear of opposition ran...
To the world's beginning of the end...
Was when foe became as enemy & no longer friend.
A fight broke out between the world's lands & people
Sending many to prayer within religion of their chosen steeple.
Against...and ready for a fight
Many soldiers thought they'd put the world right.
Bur more wrong doing was to come of the battle
In foreign wars soldiers rode in like herded cattle.
Rounded up like sheep to a pen
Fighting for reasons unknown truly to ourselves & them.
Greed & lusting was overall the jest to our world leaders
Creating havoc, it was them the 1st of the beginning hatred breeders.
Fed their men a mere dance by the lies they to them told
Then sat back in safety to watch the wars of their world unfold.
A dangerous game to play withour the truth of world insight
And may to their God be judged when in their deaths day plight.
And before the Lord whom created all & beyond the heavenly earth & sky
May the fall bow & pray then explain their cruel reasons why.
For each sin on earth in life by lives committed
Fall prey to their own demise when in their deaths committed.
Then they'll see the truth of what the worlds & lives upon it be
Through the difference between the birth & death in all eternity.
By Anna s tate March 2017
Categories:
herded, conflict, corruption, creation, destiny,
Form:
Free verse
BEFORE IT BEGAN
Before it all began.....
Before our country in fear of opposition ran...
To the world's beginning of the end...
Was when foe became as enemy & no longer friend.
A fight broke out between the world's lands & people
Sending many to prayer within religion of their chosen steeple.
Against...and ready for a fight
Many soldiers thought they'd put the world right.
Bur more wrong doing was to come of the battle
In foreign wars soldiers rode in like herded cattle.
Rounded up like sheep to a pen
Fighting for reasons unknown truly to ourselves & them.
Greed & lusting was overall the jest to our world leaders
Creating havoc, it was them the 1st of the beginning hatred breeders.
Fed their men a mere dance by the lies they to them told
Then sat back in safety to watch the wars of their world unfold.
A dangerous game to play withour the truth of world insight
And may to their God be judged when in their deaths day plight.
And before the Lord whom created all & beyond the heavenly earth & sky
May the fall bow & pray then explain their cruel reasons why.
For each sin on earth in life by lives committed
Fall prey to their own demise when in their deaths committed.
Then they'll see the truth of what the worlds & lives upon it be
Through the difference between the birth & death in all eternity.
By Anna s tate March 2017
Categories:
herded, journey, leadership,
Form:
Free verse
Mama and Granny
Herded children through the kitchen
Out the screen door, to the yard
Where we wouldn’t be underfoot
Cousins all brown from summer
Sun baking soft skin and erasing
The loneliness of winter from
Hillbilly faces – cotton topped
Tresses white since birth, curled
Mama and Granny
Yelling loudly from the kitchen
“it’s time to eat – come get it”
Little bellies churned eagerly
Fried chicken – a leg I chose
Mashed taters and gravy
Biscuits from soft, white dough
Baked in a wood cookstove
Mama and Granny
Piled plates full of food
For hungry eyes who dove in
Before grace could be voiced
After pie and cake and everything
We could partake of – Sunday dinner
Washed down with sweet tea
And a bottle of love, homegrown
Happy and hopeful - we had no fears
Mama and Granny
Murmured quietly, taking turns
Rubbing plates and pots and pans
With the Joy that was Granny’s detergent
After dinner, we played – screaming
With pleasure that comes from
Sharing hearts and lives
With the ones you call family
The gifts from God’s loving nature
Categories:
herded, childhood, faith, family, food,
Form:
Free verse
WIPEOUT
You cannot imagine us today as we were -
Almost simply a vestigial memory; but once
We were numberless and roamed the landscape freely,
Harmless and beautiful creatures, each graceful,
But most impressive in herds of ten thousand,
Grazing the short grass plains, following the seasons.
In winter moving south, returning in spring:
Shoals of us swimming the mighty rivers,
Herds of us trotting to the high pastures in late summer,
Flights of us in the early morning mists of the
Towering fortress mountains which sheltered our beauty
From all enemies. For millennia we lived in peace;
But the hunters came and took one of us as a trial; then another.
Then they took us in our thousands, for our skins, for our horns,
Until only a few remained, and were herded into one tight valley
With no escape. One by one the weapons of the hunters
Cut us down till only Bighorn, the last of our race, was left standing.
The chief hunter took careful aim and unleashed his weapon :
Bighorn fell dead and with him died the race of the unicorn.
Categories:
herded, animals
Form:
Free verse
stormbears
great swathes of rain
pushed, herded by gale gusts
from the north edging on arctic
moves down on polar bear paws
rumble, tumble dark across my sky
whispering vestiges of autumn
scatters sulky heat before them
brushes aside trees and grasses
balls of hail rat ta tat tatting on tin roof
enter my garden blustery bold
cool lips touch the last sweet petals
kiss away the dust of summer
soon they curl soft mounds
among pine, oak, hemlock
sleepdreaming of seas with ice palaces.
Categories:
herded, autumn,
Form:
Free verse