Best Jostled Poems


Premium Member Ashen Snow

An innocence we used to know
As morning dourly turns to night
Entombed beneath an ashen snow 

A cell phone yearning for hello
With hopes of answer growing slight
An innocence we used to know

Within a stampede’s torrid flow
Bifocals lost in jostled fright
Entombed beneath an ashen snow 

A playbill from three days ago
Once read with wonder and delight
An innocence we used to know

Pillars raised in commerce glow
Now broken pencils thrown in spite
Entombed beneath an ashen snow 

So many hearts in fervent throes
So many souls in heaven’s sight
An innocence we used to know
Entombed beneath an ashen snow 

Chopped  - Poetry Contest
Including:
Playbill dated 08 Sep 2001
Cell Phone
Broken Pencil
Bifocals

-23 Oct 2014-
© David Mohn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: jostled, sad, september,
Form: Villanelle

Premium Member The Battle of Tastebud Hill

It was a beautiful sunny morning so quiet and so still
As Sir Tom's Marmite army, charged up Tastebud hill
Queen Debs vast Vegemite army could see them coming
Many were overcome with sheer terror, and started running.

Debs Veggie army held their ground firing shell after shell
The Marmite army pushed forward, and unleashed hell
There were heavy losses on both sides, jars were everywhere
Then in flew the Marmite air force and attacked from the air

The small Marmite army were at first driven back
But then they launched a devastating, counter attack
The Veggie army had no stomach for such a long fight
And they all happily surrendered to the army of Marmite.

Veggie supporters in the streets were all jostled and jeered
Whilst the Victorious Marmite army were clapped and cheered
Vegemite lovers the world over were now running quite scared
And were all in safe hiding places, until a peace was declared.

Now everyone the world over can enjoy the great taste
Not settling for something, that tastes like clinical waste
So when you open the black jar with the bright yellow lid
Remember Sir Tom's army and great things that they did.


Written 4th January 2022

Dedicated to Deb, the Queen of the kingdom of Vegemite.
Categories: jostled, humor,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Stagecoach

I took my periodic stroll through the local antique store today.
There were the usual horse collars, clocks and various sundries on display.
Havin' no need fer horse collars and sech, I quickly passed them by,
But a paintin' of an abandoned stagecoach really caught my eye!

The artist depicted it in a field overgrown with tumbleweeds and brambles.
It looked so very forlorn, its former glory now in a total shambles!
I contemplated this poignant scene and mused upon its past,
And how it may have helped conquer the western frontier so very vast!

I could picture the cranky driver a-cussin' and crackin' his leather whip,
Stingin' the ears of his cantankerous mules urgin' them on to a faster clip!
As they raced across arid deserts and rounded treacherous mountain curves,
How the passengers must've been jostled, gittin' on each others nerves!

I visualized the characters that old stage must've transported to the west!
There were gamblers seekin' suckers, concealin' ample aces in their vest!
Platoons of preachers clutchin' their Bibles were numbered 'mongst the hosts,
And young and innocent teachers were headin' west to teach at army posts!

Soiled doves, plyin' their trade, were headed fer sawdust saloons.
I wondered if the old stage had ever been sacked by outlaws and their goons.
I reckon the old derelict had earned its repose - its axles no longer squeal. 
If only that old stage could speak! My oh my! The secrets it might reveal!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Categories: jostled, cowboy-western, old, horse, old,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member A Tale of Death:

This aspect is succinctly told by, W.Somerset Maugham from an Arab tale:

The speaker is Death:

There was a merchant in Baghdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came back, white and trembling, and said, "Master, just now when I was in the market-place I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned I saw Death had jostled me. She looked at me and made a threatening gesture; now, lend me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate. I will go to Samarra and there Death will not find me". The merchant lent him his horse, and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop he went. Then the merchant went down to the market-place and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, "Why did you make a threatening gesture to my servant when you saw him this morning?" "That was not a threatening gesture," I said, "It was only a state of surprise. I was astonished to see him in Baghdad, for I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra".

(A far older version forms part of the Babylonian Talmud)
© White Wolf  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: jostled, death, humor, humorous,
Form: Narrative

Jamaica - Pleiades

Join me in paradise
jostled loose from my dreams.
Journey to barefoot sands.
Jewels of turquoise gleam,
jaunting free in warm waves. 
Jacaranda-kissed breeze  
jogs memories of love.  


Written 3/6/17 for J Pleiades Contest
Categories: jostled, beach, romance, vacation,
Form: Pleiades

Premium Member Missing Person

MISSING PERSON


Saw him sitting on the curb weeping,
pompous parades of the self righteous
passing “his” children – in disgust.

Eyes glistened through the tears
hands trembling as if to control himself
he rose – as if to speak….

was jostled by passersby, cursed at
by glassed in motorists, mocked
by the children on a passing school bus.

Approaching the synagogue
he was rebuffed by the rabbi,
a relived experience.

The churches, gilded doors locked,
advertised Sunday services
and a trip to Fox Woods Casino.

Saw him sitting on the curb weeping
accompanied by a stray dog
that licked the wounds in his hands.


John G. Lawless
10/26/2015
Categories: jostled, irony,
Form: Free verse


I Heard the Wind Again Today

I heard the wind again today
it's sound so sad and low
it seemed to ask a question of me
"What had I come to know?"

I searched my heart for an answer to find
an answer for the wind and I
and what I found was the sound of the wind
to which I had no reply

What do you know after all this time
what have you come to see
what have you learned of the ways of your heart
what have you learned of me

I know of love came my reply
I know of the the pain when it then dies
I know of the feel of a loving touch
and the look of loving eyes

What I haven't yet found is that part of me
that part which drives love away
the love which I do so desperately need
to come to me and stay

Then once more I heard the wind in the night
it's lonesome and mournful sound
as it jostled the leaves away from the trees 
then swept them along the ground

Look you well there so deep inside
the answer you seek is clear
that love which you so desperately seek
is also what you fear

Kevin Ryan Duncil
Categories: jostled, extended metaphor, introspection, loneliness,
Form: Free verse

Gray Silence

I have gotten the deepest meaning of 
Your pronounced words, 
Now then, remove your veil of gray silence,
Whisper to me or scream at me! 
I am longing to hear all your words—
Secret or revealed,
Not so long ago we jostled the crowd
To meet each other like
Big billows of the sea dashing over the rocks
With profound ruthlessness, 
Like blue water in a lagoon riddled by the 
Prolonged chorus of ducks,
Like echoes of shrieking albatross on
The belt of pines across the sea,
Like tempestuous wind of the north,
So, remove your veil of gray silence now and
Whisper to me or scream at me!
Categories: jostled, love,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member Life on an Applecart

   Jostled to and fro
     ruts in road take their toll

   Bruises are his bane forever
     No one'll claim him ~ ever
Categories: jostled, fruit, pain, travel,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Perfect Christmas Gift

In a beautiful land far across the ocean,
People used to celebrate Christmas all year round,
Trees along the streets adorned with flickering lights;
Down the cities were malls seethed with shoppers…
All in frantic, but no harm in their enjoyment of time.

Grandiose buildings and churches,
Stood magnificently as the music of the season played;
Lanterns were hanging on walls as church bells ring,
Announcing the season of birth of Christ the King.

A dazzling panorama of the whole place,
With the nearby sea on its serenity and calmness;
The aromatic freshness and coldness of yuletide’s zephyr,
Giving resplendent smiles- rhythm of iridescent glow in ones’ eyes.

As people enjoyed from morning to Christmas eve
Children’s  laughter exuded  with the  gifts they received
They sang joyfully with thanksgiving on caroling
A herald on the season of love in a spirit of giving.

Time came in the beautiful land far across the ocean,
When people didn’t have any single clue of the dangers to come,
A week before the season with no ominous sign,
Trees on streets were washed out in an instant;
A gigantic catastrophe passed by engulfing everyone
Mangled and jostled into darkness where they’re hard to be found,
At snap of fingers… is there another joyful Christmas time?

Grandiose building and churches,
Turned out into a mass grave with flickering candles;
Flowers were scattered where each body laid,
Mourning of their fate…a rescue they begged
All praying for mercy of Christ our only Savior and King.

At vantage point was a horrible scene of a ghost town,
Where green trees and buildings seemed thrown in garbage cans
Marred souls were wafted in stale air…
Starvation and unseen love ones, they grieved.

Just in time came in a devastated land across the ocean,
A miracle happened in His Love Divine
Sympathy and passion reigned in the heart and mind of all men;
People around the world joined hand-in-hand and rebuilt ‘tis land,
The most perfect Christmas gift which arrived on time.


Dec. 15, 2013   9.25pm



*My first ballad poem. Hope I did it right
NOT FOR PERFECT CHRISTMAS GIFT CONTEST

First Place
Contest: Any poem goes #1
Judged: 12/27/13
Sponsor: My greatest poet PD
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: jostled, celebration, christmas, imagination,
Form: Ballad

Barefoot Girl

BAREFOOT  GIRL


To my empty garden one day in the heat,
Hair full of daisies and floating on the breeze,
Came a carefree little girl in bare feet,
And her dog,  completely at  their ease.

They  passed  my orchids and roses so sweet, 
Found a cool place to play beneath my trees.
They ran  barefoot  round the vacant seat
And rolled around on  feet and knees.

I watched from my window as the happy  pair 
Danced and laughed,  then in a blink 
Jostled and turned, ran here and there.
When tired they sat down.  I smiled  to think

     How my garden was complete and pleasant
     With my shoeless daughter and her dog present.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Categories: jostled, childhood,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Conversation

Swaying to the motion of the train
I look around 
Jostled by the crowd I move aside when nudged
Smile when someone takes a seat
Studying  my hands
Nothing has changed 
Still five fingers on each hand
Looking down I see my shoes
Nothing remarkable or unremarkable
Just a pair of plain shoes.

Hearing conversations
I turn to listen 
The first conversation doesn’t interest me
On my other side is a middle aged couple
Holding hands
Choosing to eavesdrop
I lean forward
Perched like an ancient bird of prey
With an incredible need
To hear what they are saying
So much so
That I forget the swaying of the train
The pushing, nudging and shoving
The heavy breathing on my neck
The sounds and smells
Of a living and moving
Steel monster.
Categories: jostled, life,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Calamity the Great Iii

Swept by waves of nostalgia
Afloat on longing tides
I assessed this oyster compound
where my heart could not abide.
Aphrodisiac pulls of Neptune
were as lava cooled to stone
What use were pearls of luster
when one had no collarbone?

Heralded by sea trumpets
kelp banners flying high
Sentinels of sea urchins
with pink coral by their sides	
Calamity, with determined madness
shoved sponges from his path
Provoked by clam injustice
Spurred by mollusk wrath.  

I searched for an escape exit 
from that cruel, moronic clam
This myriad ideology,
naught but an oyster sham.
When a seahorse bobbing aimlessly
moved closer to my side
I unhinged my oyster carapace
and grasped its roughened hide.

I was jolted and I was jostled
as I settled on its back
Calamity watched in amazement
standing frozen in his track
When an agitated octopus 
released an ink black kite,
a galaxy of starfish 
sank into the brackish night.

I focused my attention	
on my lost and nervous steed
We were climbing ever upward
at a most alarming speed
Breaking through the surface
I swallowed back a scream
Afraid of finding Calamity
I found it all had been...a dream.
Categories: jostled, funny, sea, longing, sea,
Form: Rhyme

The Puppeteer

He looked out at those who had gathered before his small stage. Amidst this noisy, crowded market, full of bright cloths, and fragrant foods, they were his audience. They stood, or sat in the dusty market place, surrounded, and at times jostled by merchants, browsers, pack mules, or horse drawn drays. He realised that they did not understand the intricacies of his art, and they could be easily distracted, but they had chosen his stage expecting him to provide them with something. They did not know what that was, not until they saw it. So it was his job to show them; to fulfil those unknown desires. His hungry eyes surveyed them. His thirsty mind trying to guess what it would take to hold them here, in front of his little stage? He needed a way to entertain this audience enough that they would want to drop their precious coins, into his empty purse?
     He looked down through the top of the stage. His eyes followed the strings from his controlling hands, to the head, arms and legs, of the puppet that would dance his dance, and sing his tune. If his puppet pleased him, and those gathered before it, today would be assured.
     He drew back the curtain.

As the curtain slowly opens
and light illuminates the stage
the puppet holds his pose
until he’s won the audience’s gaze.

The message comes down from his Master.
He raises his dagger on cue.
But the audience don’t gasp, or even mutter
as he runs a second puppet through.

Instead they turn to depart
leaving his Master’s purse empty. 
Directions come quickly, lacking in art
demanding the Puppet dance up a frenzy.

So he jumps and twirls, as though he has wings.
Until he is caught, in a web of his own strings.
Categories: jostled, power,
Form: Haibun

Bottems Up

Bottoms Up[


I was looking around for a new winter sport
Something rigorous but not a dangerous sort
A good friend of mine suggested to me
“if you can walk, you can cross country ski”

So I shopped around at a sporting goods store
It was a nice discount I was looking for
Soon I found a pair that didn’t cost a lot
And I got a lesson right on the spot

The very next day; don’t you know?
The ground was covered with eight inches of snow
So I packed my skis into the van
 And headed to the golf course, a sensible plan

Others like me had the same thing in mind
So I strapped on my skies and waited in line
The weather was great and the conditions superior
But in no time at all, I was on my posterior

I dusted myself off and started to glide
Just as two experts jostled me on my side
I lost concentration and didn’t see a bump
There I was again, flat on my rump

Never discouraged, I stood tall once more
Starting to feel the perspiration pour
But just as I felt I was starting to get it
Back on my derriere; should I forget it?

Never!  I said to myself with resolve
This is a puzzle I can solve
Just then I steered right into a bush
And landed sans dignity right on my tush

Two ladies came over to help me up
I was whining now like an orphaned pup
“I’m sorry ladies to be so troublesome
But would you mind rubbing my aching bum?”

They left in a hurry as you might think
Actually quicker than a wink
I made it home with a sore keister
Hoping I’ll feel better come next Easter

Next day I saw my good friend at work
And squelched the urge to call him a jerk
And while removing our lunches from the office fridge
I explained my plans to take up Bridge
Categories: jostled, funny, sports,
Form: Rhyme
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