Best Hostage Poems
People from all nations running for Their Lives, Pursued by Hamas.
That day 1,200 were slaughtered.
International hostages died! Few live ones do remain.
I do not even know what day this is!
Nor month, or even, what year!
For I live each day within a clock.
Whose only sound ticks away endless,fear!
I have no mirror to see my young face,
Just locked in a room by mad barbarians,
Absent are they, of a trace of the human race .
My family, all my friends, taken from my life..
My treatment, hardly an ounce, humanitarian!
I assume I am probably still, just twenty four..
I was dragged in bloody violence from the “Nova
Concert for Peace” dance floor!
By inhumane, brutish men, who dragged me across
my country’s fertile fieds!
They hit and assaulted me, in a car because I fought,
and no, I would not yield!
I heard the screams of death, the gunshots, unbearable!
I hear them still, they shake the memories, so potent!
that the necrotic plant in my window sill, sways.!
No sun, no blue sky, do I see, not one friend to hug me?
Window boarded up, and slices of bread a day …are three!
Animals, so-called men, blindfold me, and use me for their
everyday, multiple times, I weep!
They try to make me cry each day, while I try to sleep.
But being an Israeli woman, a Sabra, with a strong will!
This in one pleasure they steal, u do my best, may they not fulfill!
I can only dream that your own country backs Israel!
I beg you to hear my voice, to please pray for me!
You have the free voice to back my country, to set me free.
I am a prisoner, a hostage, with no family, friends or choice.
Can you~yes, you~honor my Jewish voice?
Shalom~
Israeli hostage in Gaza
When a department wants to get rid of a worker,
The processes used can be slow,
Transferring to a place where they will be moot,
Ignoring everything that they know,
Where they exist, day by day, in an office of work,
Where their job is not even defined,
In an office, where they sit every day of their life,
Until they decide to resign,
Because they’re never included, never valued,
Their case is never assessed,
They are simply bound to watching a screen,
Pushed to becoming depressed,
And as they sit watching their life pass them by,
They see their career has been robbed,
Of all of the skill, fun and scholar they were,
Of the good they once were at their job.
If I am ever taken hostage
I hope it’s by my grandchildren
They will take me to a park,
And make me swing and slide,
I will crazy laugh
And chase them down
Play and play
The best
Day
Like an explosion of fire
i shall shatter through the atmosphere
carving my ever burning path
through the very stars themselves
riding on the milky way
my heart shall implode
from the very thought of love
finding bitter exposure through the tendrils
reaching out to grapple onto something like ground
for out in the stars there appears to be nothing,
nothing that can quench my heart
of what it most desires
a feeling of security
that among the stars is near impossible to find
except for the company of each shining burning gas
exploding as my heart so does forth
unable to truly find the heart
that is lost among them too
and matches perfectly to mine
Set ablaze in the wake of this grand betrayal
my heart is shrouded in stone and ice
as all joy and light fades
from my bleeding eyes
for now i know No fear
and i shall charge forth through the fires of hell
with the weight of the world at my back
with everything to gain and nothing to loose
for now i know that love which i once thought existed
was but a lie thrown to my face to take up
as if i were a starving beast
scavenging for but one piece of emotion
that be true as my soul
so tell me it may be as i look upon the stars
a wish on my tongue
pulling up from the consuming fires
that may take me hostage in the night
HOSTAGES TO FORTUNE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Luck—that’s what some call it, a capricious cotillion with probability, eventually holding one hostage to fortune…” quote by the poet
***************
Onlookers watch, brows furrowed with wisdom,
judging the inanity of my gambles, the absurdity of my heart~
the unwise pledge made to destiny and chance.
Is it luck I chase or a deeper current pulling me onward,
a commitment to something unseen~
a surrender to the unknown Hand that guides me?
Consequences sometimes sharp and bitter~
Are they lessons etched in pain or moments of grace,
divinely ordained, the Master shaping my soul?
Were my falls intended all along,
an awkward dance orchestrated by a Divine hand,
making me a willing hostage not to fortune but to faith?
Yes, I am a hostage, bound and gladly surrendered~
a devotee of faith's uncertain embrace.
In my captivity, I find the ultimate freedom.
The cat can stretch out anywhere
In grass or gravel
In catnip patches
However he has a favorite spot
In front of the front door
Holding us hostage
when Medusa feathers
of midnight fractals
dip in my soul
and smear
soft hemlock stardust
across the
celestial ceiling ~
smothered with spinel
my shadow seethes
in the scent
of flaming jasmines ~
as I slip
a n d trip ~
drunk upon opium,
cruising in
cursed ventricles,
and pleading
for the release
of my muse ~
perfumed with
pensive passion,
that burns in the
chamomile craters,
courageous
yet clawed
by the cowardice
of your corvid
cruelties …
this heart is a hostage
held in the heat
of hypocrisy ~
hypnotised to the hues
of your heather hush,
tamed to obey
the time-travelling tunes
of the sun and the moon,
who impersonate
the aura of aurelia
yet, breathe the blush
of bitter-silk butterflies ~
illuminated within
the ivory incandescence
of my inkless innocence …
but, still I am immune
to your illusions ,
as I am nevermore ~
an oasis-rose ash
plucked from the
desert of oblivion,
desperate to deem
this desire my own,
before I stretch
these hands of hurt
and block
the periwinkle
pulsations ~
flowing
in the arteries of
arrhythmic
attachment …
There’s a gun upon my bed
Not the kind made of metal
A vivid tattoo color
Above my lover’s
Secret devil
And that gun is like a demon
Aimed toward her pleasure zone
Urging hunters to take a shot
And take the trophy
Home
I see blood upon the doorstep
I smell murder in her fold
I fear ghosts will haunt her body
In the bullets I have sown
I hear hungry infants crying
The ones she gave away
And the bastards she is hiding
Are my regrets from yesterday
I feel the gun blazing
As she sucks my breath away
I’m a hostage to her body
In the mayhem
She purveys
In the middle of the night
I’ll make my escape
Run, run, run
Run away
I’ve got to run
In the middle of the night
When her back is turned
Run, run, run
Run away
I’ve got to run
There’s a gun upon my bed
It belongs to my baby
Burned deep inside her
On a night she went
Crazy
And every time I think
I’ll flee
Her dangerous painted gun
She draws it against me
And I feel myself succumb
I see blood upon the doorstep
I smell murder in her fold
I fear ghosts will haunt her body
In the bullets I have sown
I hear hungry infants crying
The ones she gave away
And the bastards she is hiding
Are my regrets from yesterday
Save me from her gun
She’ll never let me go
Save me from drowning
In her young and wanton soul
I’ve got to run
But there’s a gun
My baby won’t let me go.
I was held hostage by your beauty
Looked you in the eyes face down
Contemplating the possibilities to
Make you my royal Victoria or my princess even
Running around hand in hand in thee garden of Eden eve...
Sharing on point pointless stories
As if we on the verge of opening a love bookshop...
Alone in my God given temple
I be exaggerating the exactitude of a golden
Chess board consisting of a queen and a black king me..
Cross examining the chances of a wonder tale in writing
Minding, thinking emotions riding a golden loop
Zoom look the idea of a broken fixed puzzle
Mind and heart desires you my Juliet
But I Romeo the Pit bull is still having my mouth guard with a muzzle
Its a prescribed precaution...
I dwell with you in my mental inn-casement mostly
Living in paradise existing in freestyle
What are the chances of speaking French soundless with lips
Enjoying the silence of both with chemistry apocalypse...
But all can be a fairytale that lives but cannot exist
In a blink of an eye I saw something
That is nothing but what might be reality
Identify...
She does not share a mutual feeling with an old
Like my kind, its pretty much two possibilities
(Is the sky blue or bluish... Vision it!!!)
That lie in my conscious mind, but ignorance
Lifting up my spirit in my subconscious mind
Examine the elements of surprise, `love her in disguise`
Illuminate her face in your mind `let the feelings die inside`
Painting thoughts on paper
By Dizak
I dream beyond these battlements
Of islands in the west
Beyond the strings and sacraments
That occupy the rest
My gentle sister, soft and pure
Admires her silken sleeves
A subtle breeze begins to stir
The eucalyptus leaves
And like the leaves that tremble so
My mind will dance toward
A distant archipelago
Or ships that I may board
And though the only ship I meet
Is drawn upon a page,
In books or verses I repeat
These thoughts I can't assuage
I dance in sprays of golden flowers
That sprout along a stream
I walk along the shore for hours
Til night begins to gleam
For I'm too young to marry now
But houses will decree
I ask the wind to try, somehow,
to take me to the sea
-For Isaiah Zerbst's 'Edmund Blair Leighton' contest and inspired by his painting with the same title
What's your worst fear?
Are you able to name one?
Death should; obviously be the result, wouldn't you think?
Nah, dying is easy.
Everything else in between; well...
That's where fear is.
Where is fear?
Everywhere
Anywhere
Nowhere—
I've looked fear in the eyes.
Touched fear
Inhaled fear
I've even put tiny drops of fear on thin sheets of paper, just so I could…
Taste fear—
I wonder what fear smells like?
It smells like Wal-Mart in here.
They say that curiosity killed the cat.
Fear must have hid the hammer behind its back.
Science makes fear.
They inject fear into animals.
Test it on humans.
It’s okay; it's only a...
Test!
A social experiment-
Uh…Uh—
Hurry up and say something quick, these people are onto us!
Fear is in the classroom.
Insecurely projecting its anger through the bully;
He's probably not allowed to talk about his feelings’ at school.
He's a number.
It's work to the teacher.
Mom is always on the phone.
Dad does whatever… Mom says.
Fear doesn't say, "How are you feeling?"
Fear already knows.
The secret language of fear is unspoken.
Its sign language based off of body language.
Fear has serious mental issues.
Believing in his own lies—
What's fear's zodiac sign?
It's on the cuffs of yours and mine!
-I-6-15
Submitted on 8-28-17 into contest: Fear
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
HOSTAGE OF ONE NIGHT
what is his name she asks
but i refuse to tax my mind
though the memory of him
hovers, the one who stole
my virginity, caused my shame
what is his name she asks
for in the beginning i did not tell
sheltered in my deepest mind
divulged when a loved one died
what is his name, will it pop up tonight
in my dreams...i’ve long ago closed the door
but now this monstrous thing hovers
closing in once more...i almost see him
and his sister too and the darkest night
wants to preside in the daylight
through fog and wandering nerves
i still remember clearly...where,
when, what, why. there’s no goodbye
clothing ruthlessly thrown on stairs,
stained, a yellow bodice unsnapped
the scintilla of a window open
my eyes close out the “no” i screamed
in the end i remember
and can’t forget
afterall
9/29/2018
You commandeer my thoughts
no matter where I am or what I do,
each day you carry me away.
I am happily kidnapped,
held hostage by love.
Tethered to me,
though the umbilical
long ago was severed,
there is a cord no one else can see
binding you tightly to me.
Even though one of you
has passed beyond earthly touch,
it will be forever such.
Three times my heart was invaded,
captured,
by love larger than me persuaded.
Sweet baby love, dependent,
I would be your champion still,
keep you safe, your dreams fulfill.
May 22, 2022
Nightmare are dreadful things
They creep into subconscious minds
And tear at sanity's fragile strings
Turning our thoughts to things unkind
I was a teacher of children small
And loved the years I spent with them
But soon after leaving I recall
That nightmares started my mind to brim
The sweet ones eyes began to glow
Within my fevered brain so fraught
Red demon light seemed to flow
From every eye that I had taught
Then even stranger thoughts assailed
As each child grew in size
It seemed to me their fingernails
Upon my body sought a prize
They gouged my eyes and ripped my skin
I could not seem to escape
Although I tried to stop the din
Alas it was too late
Another time a stranger dream
Came to me late one night
It was scarier than any dream had seemed
It caused me sinister fright
I was in my old frame school
Twenty-five students joined me there
But one small boy had broken a rule
And slipped a gun in without a care
We teachers never checked the hooks
Where all the schoolbags were sorted
They must be filled with pencils and books
No weapons had ever been reported
But in this dream, he took us all hostage
Then brandished the gun about
He placed in front of us a blockage
So no one could get out
With all my heart I entreated him
To let one small child go
It seemed that even the room went dim
As he looked at us row by row
At last he motioned with hands spread
That I should walk one child
Out the door and down the hall
Outside where parents were reconciled
So one by one I went with each
Dear student held that day
Until they all had safely reached
And end to their dismay
Then S.W.A.T. moved right in sync
And whisked that bad boy away
I never knew what to think
Because suddenly I was awake
I jumped up from my bed undone
And ran frightened with a scream
I grabbed a phone to cal 911
Before I realized it was only a dream
Nightmares can be ever so real
They'll make you do strange and eerie things
Nightmares always come my dreams to steal
I wish they would all take wings
My pain level is an eight on a scale of one to ten.
Poor you, someone says. Someone who has no idea
That I have been running on pain levels of ten for three weeks.
An eight is terrific; great, something to strive for tomorrow.
Shingles has taken me hostage, inside my own house.
My body is her host, my mind wondering what I have done
in this lifetime or any other that was so bad that I deserve
a punishment like this.
I finally figured out today if I am sitting on a cold pack,
my pain level goes down to an eight. It took me two E.R.
visits, four days in a hospital and trying everything I could
fathom I could stand before I stumbled upon this wondrous idea today.
My skin is so hyper-sensitive that a horse fly landed on my
arm today and it felt like a honeybee digging a stinger into me.
The morphine pain pills did not cut it, so I got something else.
I hate to tell you, but they are not as effective as the morphine pills.
I have never in my life felt this level of pain.
I know there is a reason but I have no idea what it is.
I hope that I have suffered enough for all of my family and
All of my friends because I have suffered enough for every one of you.