Best Joan Poems
The Medieval era
was filled with wars and strife
between the French and English
at cost of limb and life.
The French became disheartened;
their victories were rare,
a humbling situation
which was too hard to bear.
A peasant girl heard voices
and visions she could see.
A maid who had a mission,
young Joan from Domrémy.
The King and other nobles
put all their faith in her.
This maid of calm composure
had dreams which they could share.
Entrusted with an army
she rode the horse she had
with banner and sword wielding,
in shining armour clad.
The English looked in wonder;
there were bewildered scenes
as Joan and soldiers entered
the city of Orleans.
With rousing words and courage
her men to battle led.
The English were defeated;
in disarray they fled.
More victories then followed,
her fame spread far and wide,
but when the voices ended
she lost the gift to guide.
In battle she was captured,
for sorcery was tried.
Condemned to death by burning
to wooden stake was tied.
The hungry flames devoured
the maid’s unblemished skin.
She called the name of Jesus;
found strength from deep within.
She died. It was all over
this heroine’s ordeal.
She was proclaimed not guilty
years later, on appeal.
A martyr, now respected,
who paid a costly price.
A victim of politics;
a saint in people’s eyes.
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Contest: Joan of Arc
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
*Joan of Arc admitted that she never used her sword to kill anyone.
To her, strategy was more important than the sword.
Joan of Arc – For God and Country
On the feast of the Three Kings was born,
a baby girl, in 1412, under the sign of Capricorn.
Destined to accomplish great deeds and achieve fame,
Joan d’Arc was her auspicious name.
A religious and political scapegoat,
her short life to God and country she did devote.
Fervently spurred by heavenly voices,
Joan’s fate was guided by singular choices.
She avidly believed in her mystical visions,
and was obsessed to fulfill her divine mission.
Each night she prayed, “Oh God, save France,”
until at last she was granted the perfect chance.
Leaving her family and the village of Domremy,
she pursued her destiny to defeat France’s enemy.
The “Maid of Orleans” with religious fervor and zeal
took a vow of chastity and her fate was solidly seal.
During the Hundred Years’ War, she took up sword and banner;
mounted on a white horse, arrayed in a white suit of armor.
Leading the French army to a momentous victory,
her rousing battle cry was, “For God and country.”
Abandoned by King Charles the VII and betrayed in the end,
she was burnt at the stake by French collaborators and English men.
Accusing her of witchcraft, heresy, and for dressing like a man,
at age 19, her life was all over according to their devious plan.
But even though her light was snuffed out by hatred and bigotry,
her exemplary courage and strength helped to unify her country.
Joan of Arc, a simple peasant girl, became a woman warrior,
and to the world a symbol of conviction, fortitude, and true valor.
Canonized a saint by Pope Benedict XV 500 years later,
Joan was named Patron Saint of France, rape victims, prisoners, and martyrs.
08-28-2015
Contest: Joan of Arc
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Placement: 2nd
Joan of Arc
HE speaks, and messengers appear
To innocence of one so young in year
The calling understood, she will not flee
Till France is free of English tyranny
The struggle long, a hundred years or more
An army tired, sapped of strength by war
She steps into the fray, new hope, inspire
Her words believed, the lighting of the fire
Hoorah, the trepid siege of Orleans broken
Triumphant Gaules their spirit now awoken
Battle proved, proud see her banner fly
On to the capital, her new war cry
Though the king be doubtful to her power
Sanctioned he, and blessed her of the hour
There, before the gates and walls so tall
Defending well, Paris refused to fall
Defeated, wounded, weary, drawn, down
Undone, alone, rejected by the crown
Falls into allied hands when out at large
Imprisoned to be tried, on falsehood charge
Religious order sent to set out court
To seek and force the answer that was sort
She, unwavering in her self belief
Her story standing gave them no relief
A minister dispatched to find (his) truth
Then shout her heresy from every roof
A thousand times the question fills her ear
A thousand times she answers without fear
Time was never going to be her friend
None came in aid or cared her to defend
Sent forth to burn in blazing execution
Inglorious was her perfect persecution
True to HIM her love would not betray
For HIM, at the stake, her life she lay
The passing years, gave her soul release
St Joan, now rests in reverence and peace.
Dancing with Joan Jett
Dancing close with Joan Jett is so wild, it’s 1989 and we go head to head. I’m the teen kid by the juke box and she is my wet dream in black leather, one foot in front of me. Pure bloody ecstasy. Garage music blares out of the speakers and we spin around, my arm catching her waist. Closer we draw; a kiss. First of many.
Joan and Nick. Who would have thought it? Rock n roll music heroine meets a Lancashire lad in an intimate spit and sawdust gig venue in a nameless town. It happened, was happening now. 25 July 1989. A day before I was eighteen.
By chance I got her gig ticket, last minute rush. Left my crap job and mental northern town and took the train to see Her, Joan Jett. My teen rock goddess singing live. How many guys wanted a piece of her? And a few gals too. Black leather, boots and an awfully short skirt...
And that black hair. Joan looked like a Goth. Her music wasn’t as dark and was more accessible. Darkness would come later, lots of it.
For now, I danced close with Joan Jett. My head in her hair, eyes shut. Holding her like there was no tomorrow. Another kiss and I was smitten. No one would ever believe me, if I told them: ‘Hey, I danced close with Joan Jett. And we kissed...’
Never mind what happened later... that’s our secret. Yes I still do love her, am in love...
...with Joan Jett.
Joan was a girl who has the appearance of a boy. She was born in Domrecy of France into the peasant family of Jacques
d' Arc and Isabelle. She lived her life as a saint and saw a vision
to drive out the English who are gradually taking over the France territory and to get Charles the rightful owner of the throne be crowned.
However, she was an uneducated plebeian who lived her life with
dignity and honor. She declared her vision to Charles
but did not gain
his trust. She joined the army and became their
leader due to her
bravery and successes during her missions. She was ingenious and skillful despite, she never laid hands to kill yet her
vision was fulfilled; through this she got the king's trust.
Upon a campaign was sent by the king she was
captured by the Burgundian Faction who was allied with the English.
However, whilenegotiation of Burgundian with the English she made attempts to
escape, one of which she jumped from a high tower but her efforts was futile.
The King could not rescue her because he was bewildered and did not had enough trust in her. Joan was turned over to England at the cost of 10,000 francs. She was announced as heretic and
died a shameful death It lodged like stone within French army's heart
and her people but there was nothing they can do.
Some years after her case was raised by the king, they did thorough
investigation. She was finally declared as a saint and martyr. She was
embraced with love as infant within and outside her country including
the English countries and her roles in France can
never be forgotten.
17/9/2015
For contest Joan of Arc
Note: She was born in 1412 and died on May 30, 1431
She died at the age of eighteen approximately
nineteen years. She was
also known as "The Maid of Orleans"
The downfall of Joan if arc
After the battle at Orleans
Where Joan dressed in white armour
riding a white horse, took the town.
Making the Anglo-Burgundians
flee across the Loire River.
Joan's reputation gained ground
She and her followers escorted Charles
to Reims enabling Charles to be crowned
Charles VII in July 1429. As she had promised.
Later she tried to take back Paris only to find
that the Anglo-Burgundians were able
to fortify and defend their positions in Paris.
Come spring 1430 the king ordered Joan
again, to confront a Burgundian assault
on Compiegne, in doing so, she was upseated
and thrown to the ground, left outside the city
when the gates were closed.
Burgundians took her hostage with much fanfare
Her trial held in1430 where
she had seventy charges brought against her
Including witchcraft.heresy and dressing as a man.
The king hearing of her capture, distanced himself
After a year in prison, under threat of death,
Joan signed a confession
denying she had ever had Divine guidance.
Again breaking all rules she dressed as a man.,
Her death sentence was pronounced,
was burned at the stake
At the age of 19 in May 1431.
Her fame increased after her death
Twenty years later her name was cleared
By Charles VII.
Come 1920 she was canonised by Pope Benedict XV
She became the Patron Saint of France.
Penned 26/08/2015
She was Joan of Arc, the very essence of bravery
who, from humble beginnings. made a place in history.
And, inspired by God, with strong and grand visions
was convinced of her calling, and went on her mission.
Joan left her small village, and went to assist
Charles VII, to help save France from England's grip.
So captivating was her zeal and charisma
that Joan soon was consulted for military wisdom.
She was sought to help lead the armies of France
with the battle of Orleans, there would be a chance
of success, thus achieved, in as little as nine days
which brought new hope, they gave Joan great praise.
Brave young Joan did not mind to travel to war
carrying banner, sword, and wore clothes that men wore.
The strength Joan displayed during battle and after
increased French morale, until she was captured.
The year, 1430, was spent in prison to await
a trial of heresy, where Joan attempted to escape.
But, alas, unsuccessful, to trial she did go
and was falsely accused, France did suffer a blow.
When, in 1431, like a martyr, Joan was burned at the stake
She did it for God and for country, her spirit did not break.
As the years passed, Joan of Arc was well honored
as the patron of France, and for sainthood, rewarded.
Joan of Arc's virtues, her honesty and simplicity
were remembered and revered throughout history.
From humble beginnings, and with God by her side
Joan of Arc left a legacy that can never be denied.
Written on 8/27/2015
I used to live in France, near the Champagne region.
My favorite Notre Dame cathedral is not the one in Paris;
Rather it is Notre Dame de Rheims.
After many battles, Jeanne D'Arc helped the Dauphin Charles
Be crowned the king of France there.
There are many statues in France of Jeanne D'Arc.
Most of them show her riding a horse with sword held high.
I've see that image in many Places in the north.
My favorite statue of her is in Notre Dame de Rheims.
She looks to be standing a vigil in her armor
With her battle flag posted behind her.
I've also been to Place Jeanne D'Arc in the city of Rouen,
Where the British tormented, interrogated, and immolated her.
It didn't look like a sad place, but I felt sad there for her.
I don't know if she really heard angelic voices,
But her story always inspired me--
Probably the only non-Biblical saint that ever did.
Joan of Arc would never bark
A command out on a lark
But would save the day
In a saintly way
Forever leaving her mark
Joan Didion was an accomplished American writer
Wrote “The Year of Magical Thinking”, portrays a true fighter
Her first book -“Run, River”, her last -“Let me tell you what I mean"
Fiction, non-fiction, plays, screenplays, awards ~ much loved writing queen.
02.03.2022
(She was born on December 5, 1934 and passed away on December 23, 2021. In 2005, she won the National Book Award for Nonfiction and was a finalist for both the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Pulitzer Prize for "The Year of Magical Thinking". She later adapted the book into a play, which premiered on Broadway in 2007. In 2013, she was awarded the National Medal of Arts by President Barack Obama. Didion was profiled in the Netflix documentary "The Center Will Not Hold", directed by her nephew Griffin Dunne, in 2017.)
For Michelle Faulkner's "A Celebrity Epitaph" contest
I look out from the stake
to where my judges are seated;
those proud men know nothing of me.
In Christ I am never defeated
though I will die here today,
condemned for my faith and my courage.
Let me look only at the cross.
The beautiful city of Rouen,
in the curve of the River Seine,
will witness the crime
that will live long past my time.
The bodies of a thousand men
decorate your majestic walls,
you are the bride of terror, torn apart,
a city without a heart.
I have heard the voices of angels,
the commands of God I obey;
though men think they have laid hell around me,
I will rise in the smoke up to heaven
just my shell in the ashes will stay.
And now, below me a scene that horrifies,
people screaming ridicule, irreverent eyes,
cruelty calloused, stare without shame.
My spirit hovers
a conscience pure, unstained,
I am neither a heretic or insane.
Copyright, September 9, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
My aunt Joan was a madcap
And she sat down on my lap
When I creaked
She was freaked
Honored me with slime and slap
Sweet love,sweet affection,
Though as old as ages,
Your love never fades away,
Like the morning rose, it blooms,
It never withers or dies in a day.
Like the daffodils that bloom in the garden,
Though haste away so soon,
But linger in the heart till night.
Renewal of love every minute,
Beautiful, blooming,fresh and evergreen.
Like trees planted by the rivers of waters,
Which produce new leaves when old ones wither away!
Darby and Joan,though old,
Your love stays still,till the end of time.
Martyr for eternity a victor of war, burned at the stake
a young women of God's grace
she rightly took her place years later
as a Catholic Saint
Though persecuted, victimized and tortured
she never gave up her rightfully place
as visions continued with brilliance and grace
of a castle in the air it's presence no longer disguised
"The Maid of Orleans", from a poor farmer bred of French descent
she never accepted downfall or dread
blood of a legacy that will never pass on
only in history books to discover her fore
A song that will always sing from the river of Seine
her ashes will always remain from the people who were unkind
for a glorious young lady so majestic and immortalized
her spirits vitality will forever shine.
9/9/2015 Contest sponsored by: Isaiah Zerbst ( Joan of Arc )
History Poem
I was just thirteen years old, a young maid,
A peasant girl at that, who for most of the time,
Tended the animals in the fields, on my father’s farm,
In my hometown, Domremy France
Then one day to my surprise visits from angels,
With messages from on high. Saying,
You have been chosen, to lead France to victory,
Against the English, in war”
Why me! With no military training? I said,
God has seen your dedication, and spirit,
Your love towards the Catholic Church,
Now go to the Crowned Prince Charles,
Convincing him that it is by these visions, that you are led.
Because we have seen France, torn apart far too long”
At the age of sixteen, my journey began,
Cutting my hair down, and dressed as a man,
I vowed chastity, and knew the plan,
In white armor, on a white horse,
I rode to conquer, I rode to win,
My victories spread far and wide, with armies and followers.
My mission, my destiny, to save France,
To expel the enemy, of overwhelming importance,
Battle after battle, conquer after conquer,
Nothing could stop me now, my confidence grew,
And God by my side, the English were being defeated,
My reputation spread far and wide,
I was becoming so much too powerful,
For my own good, and so much,
Too strong, by the grace of God.
That a trial was brought forth against me,
By the people whom I led, how could, this be such a thing,
Seventy charges of witchcraft and heresy,
Imprisonment they said! Oh how my heart bled,
No attempts of help from the Prince,
No rescue, he said,
Or he too would be discredited,
Cut off from his head,
I was imprisoned one year, and feared for my life,
Forced to sign a treaty,
Denying all divine intervention and guidance from God,
A death sentence was pronounced. I was led,
Fastened to the stake,
Burnt in the flames, until my body was dead.