Best King Poems
He is the king of words and poets alike
Assay as you may, this man you won’t smite
His armour sparkles in night or day
Defending those too meek to say
His table is round, there's room for all
There are chairs with wheels so no one will fall
He hands out bronze goblets with sparkling wine
This king of lush gardens has spine
Renowned through the kingdom, for deeds he’s done
There is no battle, he has not won
His knights are loyal to a fault
So you better beware who you assault
Lancelot and Guinevere are by his side
Uniting followers far and wide
So sit and drink with us in harmony
And enjoy food presented artfully
it was the sixties
we were young
we were going to change the world
spin it like a basketball on our finger
take the three point shot
win the game
we had great leaders
john, robert, martin...
the planet was singing
with the purity of a four year old
...
The ants go marching two by two;
The little one stops to tie his shoe,
...
then
it started raining bullets
our optimism soured
slightly at first
and the grassy knoll
and the sniper
and the magic bullet
john was shot
jackie squirmed
we sat on the edge of our seats
The ants go marching four by four;
The little one stops to shut the door,
John F. Kennedy was assassinated
The ants go marching five by five;
The little one stops to take a dive,
years had passed, five
look before you dive
the civil rights movement gathered
to fight for their God given rights
the right to be treated as humans
exactly that...humans...no more no less.
to listen to the man who had said
"Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon
which cuts without wounding and ennobles
the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals."
the man who stood on the hill speaking
"I have a dream today!"
The ants go marching seven by seven;
The little one stops to pray to heaven,
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Martin Luther King Jr. was shot
died
and my God it rained
it rained salt
as a nation black and white cried
The ants go marching nine by nine;
The little one stops to check the time,
time for the rise of Bobby
Hoorah! Hoorah!
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
i wish he could have ran faster than the bullets
they murdered John's brother
Robert F. Kennedy was dead
the sixties where almost finished
and i wondered
if the world would ever be the same
again
I marched away buried my face into the ground
To get out of my pain.
great leaders lost
words that radiated
radiate hope
America was
the envy of the world
it's two thousand sixteen
and we have sunk so deep into the dirt
i know we can't Trump this disaster
have you ever heard of fools gold
we have a choice
our lives count
remember the ants
nature's banner is blowing in the wind
don't make
the little one shout
"THE END!!"
March 16 2016
armand
Regally they strut
Lions have no ought to roar
Status apparent
Establish importance with quiet visibility without vocality
(Not for any contest)
The King of Sanctimonious
Perched high upon his throne-ious
Clothed in purple pious-ness
Admired his own self-righteous-ness
The Queen of Sanctimonious
Tired of the King's baloney-ous
When he counts his hoards of money
To him, sweeter than his honey
In a court that wasn't courteous
The Queen cried, "you're oblivious!"
But he wasn't aware, nor did he care
He'd become a Royal hypocrite
Day after day, he counted each coin
The ritual put a flutter in his groin
Reveling in his Royal room
Soon became his tomb of gloom
The Royal epitaph was no baloney-ous
When the king was found
'Tis said he drowned
In a fermented bottle of loneliness
One summer day, enraptured by the Goddess Sea,
King Sun shone down with all his might; most splendidly
he moved the Goddess, for she rippled laughingly
a shimmering reply to Sun in azure sky,
and while reflecting that same hue where King Sun dwelt,
her turquoise ripples lengthened, for the goddess felt
herself now rising up with joy. Wave after wave
was leaping, frothing. . . as King Sun more strongly gave
his final rays to her. Then he descended low
that he might kiss the lovely Sea on earth below -
to kiss her soon before the last day’s shadows fell,
and so he touched her where she’d let her body swell.
With yellow gold, his final glow, he bathed her face,
but when the night arrived with sable colored lace
to drape the goddess, Sun had vanished from all sight;
below Sea’s depth he’d sunk - to love her through the night.
For Suz's "Let's Be Open" poetry contest and now for
PD's Anything Goes Contest
My skin petrified, mummifying my hand
upon pools of brittle ice
like curdled blood piercing veins: I watch
the moon bathing its flesh,
in crystal yellow, waxing a sheen...
my pores dilate as cubes slowly melt
when this fired orb heals from above
till its velvet breath climbs into my head,
extinguishing limbo of a daze…until I convulse in joy
when chunk-stone changes into glimmered dew.
*I held ice cubes on my palms and was transported
back to scene of one night when a high fever drowned
my senses… for some reason, viewing the glory
of the moon relieved me from delirium…
Ice King Contest of Skat
( in less than 10 lines)
25July2013
by nette onclaud
He is silence,
crowned in rosy rhymes,
sprinkling balmy rain
upon frail flowers.
misunderstood, yet
beneath his armor,
is the selfless moon,
bestowing starlight.
when darkness unfolds,
time may be cruel,
but seasons can't wilt
soft-spoken sagas,
echoing amidst
hushed sanctuaries.
he shoulders the weight
of a true savior.
suppressing his need
to be heard and seen,
in a world so dark
and misleading,
he remains throned to
an emerald
garden, that glows
as the king of
picturesque patience.
painting the wrongs right
through butterfly strokes,
of everlasting
acrylics, in gold
across mourning skies.
In His eyes was the wisdom of the ages.
In His hands was kindness and love.
His manner was tender and quiet.
In His smile was a light from above.
He traveled the highways and byways;
Spoke to rich man and beggar alike.
He taught in the streets and the temples,
Brought comfort and healing and light.
He spoke of His reason for coming,
And a home for the faithful and true.
At first He was loved by many,
And then by only a few.
He was taken to court in the city,
And put through a mockery trial.
He was hung on the cross without pity,
And taunted and rudely reviled.
Why did they do this to Jesus,
A Man who would never abuse?
His countrymen laughed and they mocked Him.
"He said He was King of the Jews".
"CHRIST DIDN'T PLEASE HIMSELF. AS THE PSALMIST SAID, HE CAME FOR THE VERY PURPOSE OF SUFFERING UNDER THE INSULTS OF THOSE WHOWERE AGAINST THE LORD. THESE THINGS WHICH WERE WRITTEN IN THE SCRIPTURES SO LONG AGO ARE TO TEACH US PATIENCE, AND TO ENCOURAGE US SO THAT WE WILL LOOK FORWARD EXPECTANTLY TO THE TIME WHEN GOD WILL CONQUER SIN AND DEATH."
Romans 15:3-4
(Want to see a hero? A real Man's Man? Well, there He is.)
The Fall of The Winter King
He had risen to power
fueled by a vicious and ruthless determination
to reclaim a lost throne.
His tactics had stunned the unsuspecting,
laid barren the fields,
blanketed the forest,
silenced the sounds of life itself.
A dictator, seeking no counsel,
accepting no offers of surrender,
driven by the desire to destroy
the kingdom that had usurped his throne.
Rumors spread of a daring bud – sprouting -
a tune hummed by the imprisoned trees
adrift on the whipping winds of war
in defiance of the heartless king.
A call to arms sounded
by the most gentle, the most delicate.
The first acts of open rebellion,
The resounding crack of the ice jamb
the aching roar of the river’s rage
surging over its banks
awakening those still held captive.
Slowly the insurrection took root
buds gathered in hidden clusters,
trees quietly bloomed
muffling the screeching gales,
offering safety to bands of rebels.
Flocks of warblers met -
feathered archers - hurling their
darting arrows against the glare
of a cold king’s horror.
Sweet grasses spread across
the brown, despoiled fields -
a verdant gauntlet tossed in the face of dread.
Flowers crept from thawing dungeons
waving their colors,
swarms of banished pollinators
followed the call to duty.
The ebb and flow of battle -
frosted retreats,
clandestine sunrise maneuvers.
The resurgence of heart,
the growing hope of warmth.
As memory of the chilled repression
faded preparation was made
to receive the beauty and bounty
of a new and peaceful King.
John G. Lawless
1/11/2015
For SKAT’s Winter’s End – Poetry Contest
It’s all about me!
It’s all about me
I am the King sitting in the tree
It’s all about me
It’s all about me
I am clapping my hands with such glee
My subjects love me as is my due
The Royal court loves me, yes them too!
King Arthur I am, Ruler of all realms in the land
It’s all about me
It’s all about me
I am the wisest King to ever be!
Hoist ye drinks and sing me praise
The Ale-house is full, its a King Arthur craze!
Its all about me, the Poet King reciting, loud and free
It’s all about me
It’s all about me
Guinevere knows my kiss is for she!
Bob Dylan song- Gotta Serve Somebody
King Size Bull-Crap
You may be living in a king size house
Sleeping in a king size bed
Laying on a king size mattress
With a king size pillow for your head
You may have a king size diamond
And wear a king size ring
Or you may be living in a king size mess
Messing up everything
You may have a king size wallet
And you may have a king size car
But if you don't have a king size heart
It won't take you very far
You may use a king size mirror
For your morning face
Or you may dress up like a Barbie doll
With your king size make-up case
You may have a king size suit
And wear a king size tie
Or you may be living in a plastic bubble
Telling a king size lie
You may ride a king size Harley
Or a truck with king size tires
You may even be a fireman
Who puts out king size fires
Don't walk around like you're all that
From the bull-crap you've been fed
Just be yourself and just stay cool
Don't wear a king size head
There once was Castle just over the hill
That belonged to a King with an iron will
Nestled safely behind his Castle wall
With an army to insure they wouldn’t fall
It was clear for the entire world to see
Destiny would record him in history
The richest King in all of the land
A beautiful Queen at his right hand
He ruled the land from shore to shore
Tell me, “Could any man ask for more”?
Turns out this King had just one vice
He was so great he forgot to be nice
Against any force he was bound to win
So the devil attacked him from with-in
Such a great King skilled with the sword
Much too great a King to turn to the Lord
Watched his entire Kingdom crumble away
Because he was to great to kneel and pray
Great King Solomon, wisest of the rulers of Israel,
The favored son of King David, who was beloved of our God,
Did fall from grace in his old age though God suffered him for years.
He warned him and He warned him that his actions would bring tears.
Solomon's wealth and power were known both far and wide,
And kings from other countries brought their daughters for his brides.,
But God said, 'Solomon be wise, send them away from you,
For they are vile before My eyes and all their daughters too.
If you accept them in My son their sins will be on you.'
But Solomon paid The Lord no mind, he welcomed those kings in,
Made pacts, alliances and deals ignoring grievous sins,
Committed by those kings and queens, acts that God abhorred,
And took unto him concubines and wives before The Lord.
Women that God told him were unclean before His eyes,
And that they'd bring their gods with them so strong would be their ties.
That Israel would follow them and he would fall from grace,
And that's just how it happened that Solomon lost face.
Seven hundred took he them and even their gods too.
He let them build their temples and went in with them too.
His heart was turned away from God by the company he kept.
He followed other gods with them and God, Himself, wept.
That's what's happening here today, they're coming here in droves.
Fleeing from oppression that their way of life enclosed.
They say our God offends them and we shouldn't honor Him.
Well their god offends me too so the same is just for them.
They wish to take away from us the very thing they seek.
Denying us our freedoms, our own laws have made us weak.
We are the pagans in their eyes and of little consequence.
They'll change our laws and change our God. I say it don't make sense.
We'll fall from grace like Solomon,
Lose all that we hold dear.
Our freedom gone we'll lose our land,
Then hide and quake in fear.
1Kings 10:11
He grew within a frigid place
No one thought those legs would ever part
A Dark Prince thawed her frozen heart
A member long and stiff like ice
Penetrates
Cuts through the cold
His seed
His power
They both take hold
Invade
Satiate
Invigorate
Skin white as snow
begins to glow
A subtle blush
She feels the rush
Heated up
Ever so slightly
His cold blue eyes
shine brightly
She screams in the night
Pleasurable blue light
Her senses take flight
Then the dark prince goes away
The night was night and this is day
There's no desire in him to stay
With a heavy heart on the bed she lay
For him just a thing of play
Inside
His seed
Her baby grows
What is happening
she does not know
Pulse is rapid it will not slow
Her red veins
turn to blue
There is nothing
she can do
Her heart now frozen
a block of ice
She thinks cold thoughts
that are not nice
Inside the child feeds on her
The days and nights become a blur
In the middle of winter
The Ice King is born
From fragile womb
his body torn
Arrival accompanied
by a storm
Those present become statued ice
The King extracts his sacrifice
His mother spared
To her his love he shows
She wraps him in blanket
of pure white snow
His skin translucent
begins to glow
All of a sudden
the Dark Prince appears
He commands bring the baby over here
I wish to gaze upon my son
He is a truly magnificent one
He looks closely at the baby's face
Resemblance more than just a trace
Blue eyes dark they extract a toll
Sucking up the Prince's soul
The Ice King
emerges
fully grown
Regally rises to take his throne
Mother cries
Blue magical tears
Time for coronation
Rapidly nears
Diamonds fall
onto the ground
Placed in ice
The King is crowned
Linda's Free Verse Contest
Thanks to Leonora Galinta for letting me weave a story
with her Ice King. Yanny's Dark Prince has also played a roll.
Also thanks to SKAT for posting the Ice King Contest,
if she increases the number of lines I will enter.
I wrote this one before I knew there was a contest.
We bound down the stairs, out into the light-of-day, and into the blue of the
misty breezes, heavily laden with the smell of wild sea salt roses that grow in
perfusion along the winding road, that bends and turns in gentle lifts and dips to
the other side of the bay, where it crosses the bridge and rises up and winds
away, over the hill.
Overhead the seagulls screech and glide over the ocean spray that washes on
the rocks on the lower banks behind our house along the Fundy Bay, where we
run like the wind through the fields of fresh cut hay and make our way to the
rocky mantle below .
There in the volcanic plateau, worn smooth as glass by the constant rolling
weight of the ocean, is our pool, known by all in our village, as ‘Lizza’s Bathtub’,
created by the eruption of the earth’s inner core, millennia’s ago.
We slip into the still, salty water that has been warmed beneath the blazing sun,
and float with the perry winkles and tiny crabs and listen to the sound of the
ocean, that roars beneath us as it leaves in the receding tide, while we drift
away, in our minds, my little brother the ‘King’ and I, the ‘Queen’ for a day on
the ‘Fundy Bay’.