Best Immortalised Poems
The falling man, one photograph captured in time
An unforgettable image, imprinted on this mind
He represents us all, weather we like it or not
His faith did not kill him, destiny was his lot
Spiralling out of control, once the planes hit
Acting purely on instinct, not champing the bit
Fire and terror stoked decisions, until overcome
Incinerating heat compels him, never did he jump
This was no leap of faith, Infinitely more than that
A transcendence into agony, he’s looks down at
I try to pen his plight, impossible as it seems
Of a world going mad, upon our Tv screens
I wish it was over quick, that fall to his death
Alas he suffered slowly, until the very last breath
I’m been brutally honest, won’t gloss over the facts
For we owe it to him, it’s with innate honesty, he acts
A picture’s worth one thousand words, some disagree
Falling man, gives nothing away, we can clearly see
My heart’s telling this story, his fall sets the stage
An immortalised snapshot of life, will never fade
For all other innocents, murdered that fateful day
If there’s a silver lining, it’s with confidence I’ll say
Your loved ones cradled you, as the towers fell down
Far across many nations, pain is felt inside every town
Sun and moon appeared together, purposely that morn
Heavenly bodies, bore witness to a new world reborn
And this occurrence, should give a tiny ray of hope
Not used as a tool of glee by Helios misanthropes
Below is a comments box will the Helios misanthrope set foot in it
not a cowardly chance
By
David Kavanagh
The night I kissed her lips was last May;
But the wind came and blew it all away:
Again I kissed her lips and made her weep,
But came the moon, and made my kiss her sleep.
‘O what a man,’ she exclaimed, ‘that dost kiss me
With a kiss so mortal it could immortalised be –
But I myself shall say: I sincerely love this man,
And also his golden kiss, pleasant since it began;
Yet so, for this my love shall be eternised –
I shall solely love him, no trait compromised.’
O this wench, if lips were slain I’d slain hers last,
And nevermore shall I then kiss any lips or blast;
I shall let my lips die from penance and pride
For those lips that I kissed, were the best I ever eyed.
Gandhi
What principle stimulated or stirred this Guy
Which Doctrine or what Teaching did he buy?
Sauntering on sandals and wrapt on his robe
Miles that he treaded traversed entire Globe.
He taught of pure Love- Peace did he teach
Violence did he spurn- Tolerance did he preach.
Vision in his keen Eyes, wouldn’t we enact
Pain or Punishment which couldn’t detract?
Thin, sturdy legs of Master of tireless trudges
Preacher of Peace who was averse to grudges;
Of all his strengths; non surpassed his Heart
Which Wickedness had reasons to thwart!
Pivot of all Races, and a hub to every Creed-
Afford Tree he planted to bear Fruit and Seed!
***For those who hold as sacrosanct Teachings of this Great Teacher, Leader, Lawyer & Philosopher in his immortalised quest for Non-violence and Tolerance in Politics & Religion and to those who are prepared to die for it!
JM
12th Nov’ 2013
I can see us kicking around in our old hometown
Where the pylons buzzed crackling with dampness
Into the open cast crust of the iron ground;
And as I recall there was never a time that felt as cool
Or as real and full of youth and life as when I
Would meet you walking home from school;
You were a smile and ponytail vision even then,
The laughing, almond eyes that teased and mock admonished,
Until, on parting, I could hardly wait to see you again;
Even though you barely tip-toed on the erotic verge of womanhood
Even though you had only just turned sixteen,
You shone with the self-assured presence of a life-long beauty queen.
I can still see us hanging around in our old hometown
Where days were as spun gold threads, the weave of months,
When the sun in the endless summer sky shone down;
And as I recall there was never a time that felt quite so fine
As when I kissed your lips and tasted their pinkish dew
And you kissed the fading tobacco of mine;
We seemed to have forever and a day way back when,
And those days and nights seemed so full of meaning,
Immortalised in our minds as if they could never end;
Now, even though it was so long ago and so long past
I see you fresh and clear, and your looks that could almost kill,
For you burned with eternal beauty that fires and haunts me still.
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
In storehouses: blessings, rain, mannah and snow.
Likewise, one brilliant star from the creation of time,
Proudly displayed, in Paradise, before its eminent solo.
Set in its ordained place, for this moment, in its prime.
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
In the greatness of destiny, noticed by shepherds
And magi, disparaged by self-immortalised pharoah.
The precious power of its rays - no idle words
Can convey. Singular sign of salvation in its marrow.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
Always crowds are pressing in, down below,
But the lone star has plenty of open space.
A beacon of hope, a compass arrow, its glow
Proudly presents a nativity - invitation for grace.
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
11/9/2022
The Only Star For Me
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
An immortal legacy
None is immortal all destined to die
the humble mason or the wisest king
be it those winged creatures that soar humming
one day all will perish under the sky
Yet there may be much more than strikes the eye
whispering melodies resurge to sing
trail of shadows persistent lingering
enshrined in sobs interlaced with that sigh
Does one truly transcend to high heaven
Or merely swap a realm for another
Yesteryear's dad now lives in the grandson
to reweave reveries thrown asunder
As kindred souls club forged anew as one
Life immortalised through gracious venture
Contest Form I
italian Sonnet
date 28 th Feb 2017
rhyme scheme abbaabba cdcdcd
Echoes of A Victims Plea
The fires burn on; the polemics fuelled
More crocodile tears from the politicians who've duelled
To capture the lens of the Press.
But our loved ones cry that simple tear
For those of us whom they loved so dear
.........Immortalised (they) nonetheless!!!
Now the cruel sea with arrogance
Beat back attempts by those who chance
Their lives to bring us back.
But just leave us here, within our grave
We're not all strong, all bold, all brave;
We're souls - it's just life we lack.
15 July 1988
Form:
Anne Frank, a little girl
smart, beautiful and witty
on her thirteenth birthday
got, as gift, a small notebook
she promptly named Kitty.
Kitty soon became a friend
dear and close;
with it Anne shared
the secrets of her heart
her joys and woes.
Showcased in her diary
were events, children, women and men
drawn from school or home,
donning a charming aura
woven by the magic of Anne's pen.
Mom, Dad and elder sister Margot
were subjects of Anne's affections.
She also wrote feelingly about
friends at school, including
the adoring boys and their attentions.
Immortalised by her writing
is Keptor the math master
who gave her, as punishment
the task of writing about 'A Chatterbox'
irked as he was by her constant chatter.
A ***** topic, it stimulated Anne's craft.
She cleverly justified her talking
in full three pages
terming it a feminine trait.
Keptor could not help laughing.
Followed 'Incurable Chatterbox'
as the next assignment.
With this duly completed,
peace prevailed, just for a time
as Anne failed to repent.
His pupil still chattering
Keptor's patience could not last.
He ordered her to write on
'Quack, quack, quack, says Mrs Natterbeak'
sending laughter through the class.
Not to be daunted
Anne took up the task anon.
She wrote in verse about a swan
who bit to death his three ducklings
because they talked on and on.
Impressed by the satire
Keptor joked about the verse
in all his classes, reading it to them.
To Anne's talking
he was no longer averse.
She sits by a dying hearth, an album open in her lap
The cold silent room startles like a slap
Mouldy images stare back from the past
Prints are all she has now
Memories that still cling
To the old Silverfish ravaged photographs
Like slips pegged to a line, flailing in a gale
One minute they’re there, the next they are only an apparition
Burnt to a retina searching the void, of a memory long forgotten
Her finger now rests upon the “rising sun” of the AIF
Of her son’s slouch hat, to which casts a shadow
Across a face too young to shave
Only but a boy, learning how to behave
In a moment etched in time
Yet those moments before it
Remain immortalised within her precious album
And those that came after
Lay buried in the Somme
He leans on a stool, one hand in his lap
The other supporting his shouldered rifle strap
His mouth blurred delivering a sentence
She closes her eyes, with thoughts of his independence
Sifting through the years of a boy in this room
Searching for his laugh through a cheeky grin
Probing for those silvery words etched in gelatine
Of a boy leaning on a stool, a conversation frozen
A mother’s memory of her son, reduced to yellowed images
A mother's loss between these pages
Shreds of the past fog the room
Pieces of a boy lay mute,
Within her reach
Creases form on her brow, a tear escapes
The memory slips, it flaps uselessly from the line
And hangs by a thread
Then it’s gone…
----------------------------------------------
AIF = Australian Imperial Force (1914 – 1918)
Rising Sun = AIF Insignia
Isaiah Zerbst’s Poetry Contest – Pick a Title
23 Oct. 2014
An epiphanic moment
pale dew drops clung to silky petals as
light breeze held wispy branchlets in its sway
blooms lay snug steeped in enigmatic scents,
waves pirouetting ,dainty in ascent
soon settled into ripples teasing seas
while mountains stood agape; tall silhouettes
of sand immortalised in castle shapes
bronze temple bells chimed mellific sweet tones
hymns circumambulated God's grand thrones
who poured their munificent boons across
the yearning ambience without restraint.
time bowed down to a standstill watching with
deep reverence; sky gleamed in bright azure
aligning solemnly with beaming sun.
and distant twilight slackened its keen steps
th a t e p I p h a n I c m o m e n t...
Date June 17 2017
Contest : Summer premier any theme any form max 25 lines sponsored by Brian Strand
For the past half billion years
They crawled the earth both soil and sphere
Million trillion unknown souls
To eat and breed their only goal
Homme or femme hermaphrodite
In pairs romance 'neath damp moonlight
Throughout the year they dig and toil
By the billions aerate soil
Breaking down organic matter
A major fertilising factor
Unseen, unheard, unsung dirt hero
Eco workers far from zero
Brought to surface by rainwater
Exposes them to blackbird slaughter
Toad and fox and rat and mole
Darwin's bloodbath takes its toll
Under ploughshare countless die
Modern farming genocide
Then one decides to grow and grow
Survives the hedgehog and the crow
Point four a metre - foot and three
With mass an ounce a bit weighty
Record breaking - caused a rave
And someone thought to call him Dave
His gift to science sealed his doom
Humanely killed - a glass jar tomb
Cardboard headstone with his name
Immortalised - the cost of fame
Twitter whitter - late to save
Anthropomorphised earthworm Dave
Based on BBC news article "Widnes worm Dave wriggles into record books"
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-37861928
With help from Wikipedia
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earthworm
Written 4th November 2016
An immortal legacy
None is immortal all destined to die
the humble mason or the wisest king
be it those winged creatures that soar humming
one day all will perish under the sky
Yet there may be much more than strikes the eye
whispering melodies resurge to sing
trail of shadows persistent lingering
enshrined in sobs interlaced with that sigh
Does one truly transcend to high heaven
Or merely swap a realm for another
Yesteryear's dad now lives in his grandson
to reweave reveries thrown asunder
As kindred souls club forged anew as one
Life immortalised through gracious venture
Contest Form I (Theme: immortal )
italian Sonnet
date 28 th Feb 2017
rhyme scheme abbaabba cdcdcd
Early days as a flaneur;
I recall the couple
On the Metro
When I was still innocent
Of its labyrinthine complexities;
Slim pretty white girl,
Clad head to toe
In new blue denim,
Wistfully smiling
While her muscular black beau
Stared straight through me
With fathomless, fulgorous orbs;
And one of them spoke
(Almost in a whisper):
"Qu'est-ce que t'en pense?"
Then it dawned on me...
The slender young Parisienne
With the distant desirous eyes
Was no less male than I.
Being screamed at in Pigalle,
And then howled at again
By some kind of wild-eyed
Drifter who told me to go
To the Bois de Boulogne to seek
What he clearly saw as my destiny;
Getting soused in Les Halles
With Sara
Who'd just seen Dillon as
Rusty James,
And was walking around in a daze;
Sara again with Jade
At the Caveau de la Huchette.
Cash squandered
On a cheap gold-plated toothbrush,
Portrait sketched at the Place du Tertre,
Paperback books
By Symbolist poets,
Second hand volumes
By Trakl and Deleve,
And a leather jacket from
The flea market
At the Porte de Clignancourt.
Metro taken to Montparnasse,
Where I slowly sipped
A demi blonde
In one of those brasseries
(Perhaps)
Immortalised by Brassai;
Bewhiskered old man
In a naval officer's cap,
His table bestrewn
With empty wine bottles
And cigarette butts,
Repeatedly screeched the name
"Phillippe!" until a bartender
With patent leather hair,
Filled his wineglass to the brim,
With a mock-obsequious:
"Voila, mon Captaine!"
I cut into the Rue du Bac,
Traversed the Pont Royal,
Briefly beheld
Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois,
With its gothic tower,
Constructed only latterly,
In order that
The 6th Century church
Might complement
The style of the remainder
Of the 1er Arrondissement,
Before steering for the
Place du Chatelet,
And onwards...Les Halles!
There was a penguin named Billy
Who had dreams which all the others found silly.
Poor Billy caused a lot of tension
Because there were things he needed to mention
No one listened to Billy.
While all the raft were doing their craft
Billy was coming up with his plan that they all called daft.
Oh he loved star gazing at night
Everyday he wished he could take flight.
He was jealous of the petrels swirling and swooshing around
Oh he tried, cried with frustration each time he hit the ground
Wishing he could be them
From this moment his idea did stem.
The rest of the raft heard of Billy's words
To be shunned because he was a different bird
His decision caused vicious derision
Not worried Billy still focused on his mission
To go to the moon on a giant spoon!
It had been a 4 year operation
The task code named 'Apollo Salvation'.
The emperor and king oh they did revolt
And protested against a penguin who didn't conform to social norms.
Billy lay back on the spoon
Leaving behind great darkness and gloom.
Launching in 10 seconds he tightly shut his eyes
Going to the unknown, a penguin forever immortalised.
WOOOOOOOSH!
Now catapulted miles in the air
Feeling weightless, now flying like a petrel without care.
Billy was now brimming
Flying seemed as easy as swimming!
Away from the surly ponds of earth
For this was Billy's rebirth.
For there were no more tensions, no more decisions, no more seals and orcas
Through his body there was now a wonderful aura.
Billy was always a free spirit, he loved mooning about
Now forever on the moon, day in day out just chilling out.
Words come
Thoughts flow;
Meaning lives
~~~~~~~~~
Choice avails
Poise styles;
Creative surge
~~~~~~~~~
Glimpse truth
Urge patterns;
Cheer peoples
~~~~~~~~~
Why worry
About worry?
Two hands tied
~~~~~~~~~
Haiku fragment
Poignant moment;
Mirror contrast
~~~~~~~~~
Sorrow sketches
Water colours slide;
Echoes remain
~~~~~~~~~
Time stops
Abruptly here;
Sadness abides
~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes dying
Paints grand stokes;
Legend starts
~~~~~~~~~
Why all this tears
For just one man?
Loss feels so sad
~~~~~~~~~
New day
New sun;
Goodbye Kuan Yew
~~~~~~~~~
A true son
Immortalised;
By a fond will
~~~~~~~~~
Gracious keep
Mindful stern will;
Common legacy
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
30 March 2015
Singapore