Best Located Poems
With the end of days upon them
Nears the time of final battle
In the halls of high Valhalla
Asgard senses its death rattle
In the forest crows the rooster
In the sky the sun does darken
In the cave the hound is howling
To these signs the Aesir harken
Heimdall blows the Gjallarhorn
Dark the rainbow bridge is turning
Vivid lightning cleaves Yggdrasil
Then the central tree is burning
Aesir watch in fascination
See volcanoes spew like fountains
See the heavens splitting open
See the oceans climb the mountains
See the continents convulsing
See the forests burn to ashes
See the sons of Mim awaken
In the fatal lightning flashes
As the winds consume the wasteland
From the south Surtr advances
With his minions tearing corpses
Bright his sword and sharp his lances
Aesir then prepare their weapons
Eyes are clear and arms are steady
The Midgard serpent Jörmungandr
Upon the battle plain is ready
With his heavy hammer Mjolnir
Strides the mighty god of thunder
To do battle with the serpent
And to rend the world asunder
June 30, 2014
N.B. This poem is an Epyllion, a brief narrative poem with a romantic or mythological theme. It is written in trochaic tetrameter, like some of the ancient Eddas.
Glossary:
Ragnarök - Final battle and death of the Aesir
Aesir - The Norse gods
Asgard - one of the Nine Worlds and home of the Aesir
Valhalla - a majestic, enormous hall located in Asgard, ruled over by the chief Norse god Odin
Heimdall - A Norse god who blows his horn to signal the beginning of Ragnarök
Gjallarhorn - Heimdall's horn
Midgard- Middle Earth, or the world of humans
Bifröst - the burning rainbow bridge between Midgard and Asgard
Yggdrasil - The sacred Norse central tree that holds the Nine Worlds
Mim - an Asian renowned for his knowledge and wisdom who has been beheaded. Odin carries around Mím's preserved head and it recites secret knowledge and counsel to him.
Surtr- a fire troll with a flaming sword who sets the world on fire.
Jörmungandr- The world serpent or ouroboros that surrounds the earth and grasps his own tail. When he lets go, the world will end. Jörmungandr's arch-enemy is the god Thor.
Thor - The Norse god of thunder
Mjolnir - Thor's hammer and principal weapon
You, monumental, pose inside the portrait,
In figure of a pyramid
Construed to be elite
Your right hand, rest above your left hand,
Hints that you're a virtuous woman,
With those slightly sullen arms,
I can tell, that you are pregnant,
Only to remind me, how powerful woman can be
As the carrier of humanity,
And that hermaphroditic posture advocates
A better balance gender,
A softer male and a stronger female,
In the midst of dreamy scene you are in,
What baffled me is your mysterious stare,
I know you have some secrets that you veiled.
They are perhaps as dark as your tunic,
Maybe as complicated as your plated dress,
And as intricate as circles patterned in your vest,
But your luminous skin revealed to me something
Of your resemblance to the phases of the moon.
New, half, full and new again
You are a girl, a woman,
And soon will be a crone,
They call you Lisa, yet you really are nameless,
You are in truth a woman, who is endless,
You always die and again always sprout back,
In each rebirth is an additional wisdom.
You are indeed older than the background
In which you are located,
And now at last I know your secret!
Your mystic smile is an expression
of the past time's foolishness.
Oh now sad frog located on the sandy beach
Emotions raging around the body as an Icelandic volcano
burning holds in a vice grips deeply
Stranded in the cemetery of broken hearts
It is as if parts of the heart where torn out
shreaded from the body without an anesthesia
Deep arrow strikes in Golden Sunshine beams
Maybe he worry for no reason
Warm thoughts sail faraway yonder
An endless sandy beach, white as snow
washed with the blue ocean in brilliant yellow sunlight
Singing dreams kissing lips hold an oasis close
She drinks his kiss as if one could never get enough
In the hot summer sun burning heart yearns
It does not matter what it is
or where it leads them
as long as it creates an inner glow
Singing sizzles relighting loves croaking flames
Infatuation may be coming - but volatile
ignites when paper lips hold tears prisoner
Positively resonated does not appear out of the blue
Falling salt seasoned spice
Trail seeking light
This is a powerful and invigorating moment
Jumping angry to paradise
Shedding the green shirt of a Queen
She was cold, but the sun stroked her
soft and warm over the cheeks
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 26.06.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Children as young as three years old,
Killed for not doing as they’re told,
Forced to forget their culture bold,
What a tragedy to unfold!
Two hundred fifteen, that ain’t less,
Young innocents abused, suppressed,
How can humans be so heartless?
It breaks my heart, I must confess,
Wonder, how they would have pleaded?
Their cries for mercy unheeded
Residential schools, not needed,
Were soon closed, but lives conceded,
In the name of education,
A way of ‘assimilation’,
Native kids faced termination,
What a gruesome excavation!
07.01.2021
{On 28 May, 2021, the bodies of 215 children were discovered in a burial site at the grounds of the Kamloops Indian Residential School using new, ground-penetrating technology. The deaths are believed to be undocumented. The school, which was closed in the late 1970s, is located in Tk’emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation. First Nations refer to a section of indigenous inhabitants of Canada, along with Inuits and Métis people.
Between 1831 and 1996, Canada’s residential school system forcibly separated more than 1.5 lakh First Nations children from their families in order to assimilate them into the Euro-Canadian and Christian ways of living. They were forbidden to acknowledge their indigenous heritage and culture or to speak their own languages.
According to an information resource set up by the University of British Columbia, children were subjected to physical, sexual, emotional, and psychological abuse.
In 2008, then Prime Minister Stephen Harper publicly issued an apology, on behalf of the Government of Canada, to all indigenous people acknowledging the country’s role in the residential school system.}
For Edward Ibeh's "This or That, Vol 4" contest
When four, I knew my soul had claustrophobia in it.
More than once it has caused me public panic fits.
Once, I declined a job located in a super high rise
for fear it would sway or rock me to an awful demise.
As cures I plan no coffin, avoid full planes, tight spaces,
roof edges and elevators with terrifying glass faces.
Often before sleep, I think the devil visits from hell.
He attempts to solidify my fears of sorrow that dwell
on my Mother’s death which is a normal eventuality
and my treasured love’s death which none can foresee.
I can bid the devil to depart back to dark fairly easily;
changing my head's channel often works as a remedy.
But I cannot grasp, shake, rationalize or compromise make
a fear that causes my angst to quake, my emotions to break.
I turn to God in constant prayer, seeking my answer there.
I ask God for His soothing and a solution He will share.
Thoughts of my challenged son’s life after I am gone
grow my despair and tears from the worry they spawn.
Who will hug him good night and then again each dawn?
Who will love him to ensure his self-value dwells on?
He will need a loving touch and acceptance to lean on.
I fear and hurt, knowing such blessings are not foregone.
I would rather be sealed in a coffin on a roof way high
than my precious one be love abandoned after I die.
Located in the country town of Ennis, in the Banner County of Clare
Is the ivy clad Old Ground Hotel, and to enter mice wouldn't dare
Because OG is in residence, who wears a fur coat and has green eyes
And the last little mouse to try his luck there, was taken by surprise.
T'was one cold December night, that this mouse decided that he'd raid
And wasn't until he was in the dining room, realised the error that he'd made
He'd heard a loud hiss and seized with terror, ran all the way to Poets Bar
But he was certainly no match for OG's speed, and alas didn't get very far.
OG put out a statement, via the press office at the Old Ground Hotel
To all the mice in Ennis I'm warning you, stay away and all will be well
I move like a bullet at lighting speed and prisoners I will never take
If you come within one mile of here, you'd better organise your wake.
Word quickly spread in the mousey world, the Old Ground is out of bounds
Because faithful OG is forever vigilant, he's always patrolling the grounds
So if you want a mouse free stay, then I recommend the Old Ground Hotel
And for you it will be like paradise and for our mousey friends living hell.
He will welcome you when purring, as if to say "what have you got a for me"?
But don't fall for for his tricks, because he's treated well with caviar and brie
We have adopted him as our mascot for our family reunion in twenty three
And we all can't wait to meet that friendly feline, that cute bundle they call OG.
written on 26th October 2022
Climbing slowly ascends a silent invitation to witness heaven on earth
Emerging in layers of allure, a rising pictorial lifts emotional grandeur
Bringing closer and closer dome of sky, tempting to reach and touch
Glistening frozen peaks with pinkish sunshine attempting to converge
Splendor strolls tenderly to romantic overtures over crunching snow
As satiated visions swing on icy air-streams, floating on Top of Europe
June 18, 2018
First Place: When line six is a perfect fix contest by Silent One
Placed 8th: Mid June 2018 premiere contest by Brian Strand
NOTE:
Jungfraujoch is a scenic attraction located in Switzerland at an elevation of 3,466 meters (11,371 ft) above sea level, highest elevation in Europe.
When I met the tall and amiable Vietnam War veteran,
my shyness showed,
yet, my throat dried and tightened when he softly
spoke the words, "The war never goes away."
All these humanity destroying wars never cease,
soldier's names, faces, their eyes so well-worn.
Their love letters sent home never faded in their
immortality.
The soldiers who made it home alive weren't
given a hero's welcome.
Their nightmares flashing as they wake up
sweating in their sheets in the dark,
yelling for respite from still hearing and
being in the firefight, still seeing the VC,
and witnessing the life breaths leaving
mortally wounded brothers.
Descending into the night's loneliness,
the blue-gray of the t.v. on low volume,
the sobbing of a loyal wife.
Some marriages, families split apart
with crushing sadness,
many veterans homeless on U.S. streets,
such a heartbreaking shame shadowing
over the face of America the beauty.
Surviving veteran's hair becomes snow-white,
war wounds achingly arthritic,
memories of their war buddies still sweetly
preserved in their mind's images.
Vietnam War veteran's reunions as their
bones stiffen, but still salute their brothers
and sisters in arms,
their hats with the name of the war,
the pride of their service.
Many barely out of high school,
with brothers of the same town,
the same state,
so much youth called up,
joining brothers from other regions
of the U.S.
Blessed by God in their fraternity,
their bravery.
The deep red poppies represent their
precious blood.
I remember the 1960's-70's searing
scars in my mind,
weeping for the loss, the hurt in our
hearts over the Vietnam War.
MIA's, POW's,
disappeared as aging families still pray,
still wait.
In the local Veteran's Cemetery,
I met a woman in her eighties,
she was a little confused,
couldn't recall where her Vietnam veteran
son's grave was located.
She told me her daughter-in-law couldn't
bear to visit his grave.
We found his grave,
his name glistening in the dew of
that gentle May morning,
as wrens and sparrows sang on
blossomed boughs.
A chance encounter became such a
gift to honor her son,
and his mother.
To let her know he was not forgotten,
but cherished,
Welcome Home. ~
I lived in Shenzhen, China, for my 6th and 7th grades - China was AMAZING.
In China, blond hair is unusual, I stood out like neon and touching blond hair was considered good luck.
In a train station, if I stood still, I could draw a curious mob - especially in the provinces like Heubi and Shanxi. I was in more than a few selfies but people were polite and respectful.
China is much more advanced than the U.S..
Everything is new, clean and modern - the Internet is faster. Most trains are bullet trains that travel 325kph (>200mph). There are more than 10 new, gleaming cities larger (and newer) than New York.
An App called WeChat (used on your phone) runs the world. Imagine Facebook, iMessage, PayPal and Uber combined - with that one App you could do anything.
At restaurants, you paid your bill at your table using WeChat from a QR code that the electronic corner of your table displayed. You even paid street vendors with the app - no one used cash.
Cameras are everywhere - if you break a law like jaywalking and BBBZZZZ you get a text and the fine is deducted from your WeChat account - all automatically.
Public TV screens, located on corners, show recent violations with the perps picture and the fine they paid - again, automatic.
Does this sound Orwellian? Well, maybe, but Chinese police don't kill people - or even engage people for minor offenses.
America, you're broke and on the edge of being a third world country.
Yeah, yeah, I know that China is free-market-communist and certainly imperfect - but if you saw China, you'd be impressed and you'd know the ugly truth - America has squandered it's wealth on military macho and forty years of war. China's last, small war was in 1980 (With Vietnam who they beat in 3 weeks and 2 days).
Middle America looks almost bombed-out with closed businesses (even before the pandemic) - but in China, you can’t look anywhere without seeing building cranes - like a forest of trees. A physical illustration of Americas loss of wealth.
I LOVE America - it’s sad to see. We've gotta wake up.
Enticed by his faceted aspects
Political points show his honour
Policies opposed, David contests
Left wing woke folk admonished
Rawness of broad topics examined
Cowboy stories of recent history
Scenarios derived from within
Issues which play contemporary
David flavoured, his firm essence
Infuses my little with his lot
I honestly struggle to explain this
... never missed what I don't got
.. A man who won't take crap
Shallow hits roll off his jaw
My bull wouldn't just lapse -
He'd bleed it dry, peace restored
Faceless man tells me myriads
Written by unwavered conviction
Marathon stamina poem olympian
I, willing victim to his inflictions
Dreaming of David, strange concept
- exclusive, by myself for eight years
It's a choice to remain alone, heart kept
Relic packed away, oddly he endears
Hard nosed refusal to enter this century
Old school stance pings my deepest vibe
Unreasonable, how much it means to me
To absorb the jib of David 's scribe
Around three years his senior
In virus time, located overseas
I fixate on his strong demeanour
In lurid choc chip fantasies
12th September 2020
Giyani, my homeland, my forefathers land
Located deep in South Africa in the Limpopo province
Where all things are bright and beautiful
Far from fraud of fertility
It's an infamous land
The moonlight outshines the streetlight
Giyani is indeed a beauty
It's like the Garden of Eden
Full of fruit trees
It's sweetest mangoes, oranges and Tomatoes seeds from ZZ2
I know the roots of it's trees are valuable
Oh, my grey aged great grandfathers childhood
Mother Nature chose this place
The birds on the thatched roots, are the tourist attraction
The Ritavi River running by
Everyday the sun shine and set
And brightens up the sky
Indeed Mother Nature chose you, Giyani
You're the promising land
Flowers looks beautiful
The land where all of us are the best we can possibly be
They say you're poor
But I can't see it
Do you have to cry out somebody to believe?
Believe me everybody cries sometimes
even me!
While rambling like a vagabond in a seraphic poetic submersion, in a remote region, witnessed the most captivated sight ever,
a sleeping valley rippled in wild blooms, as sparkling in mystical celestial beam, in the mesas of the clouds, the Dzukou Valley,
a remote dale at the border of Nagaland and Manipur,
in the untrodden tableland of India's Northeast!
The picturesque landscape was ringing with the
once in a lifetime scene of emerald shades of hillocks
paving the way for azure mountaintops,
luminous flowers waving in the winds amongst the tall grasses!
The vale was tweeting and twirling amidst the virgin vegetations enriched with the spectacular sights of verdant forests,
exquisite flora and fauna,
serpentine streams, myriads of panoramic pink
and white wild blooms that dot
the vast caldera of the valley and its' verdant meadows,
alongside the meandering rivers of Dzukou and Japfu,
appeared as the absolute paragon of serenity and tranquility!
Surrounded by the whispering platonic hills,
with numerous colorful flying creatures,
the valley seemed as smuggled over
the dewdrops' fragrant feral fruits,
Oak and Rhododendron forests are a feast to the eyes!
Half way up and any signs of tracks disappear,
and one is just left with wheezing enigmatic bamboo thickets!
Botanists' delight, trackers' paradise, seraph's psyche,
rovers' riddle, is reclining placidly ,
the untrodden earth's lulling lullaby,
in the abode of the divine Lily's
anomalous nature's absolute pamphlet,
a rich biodiversity hotspots
of endemic species, the Dzoku Valley;
an uninhabited unsullied phosphorus valley
Note:
The Dzüko Valley is located at the borders of the states of Nagaland and Manipur in Northeast India. The valley is known for its extremely rich biodiversity, seasonal flowers and flora & fauna. It is situated at an altitude of 2452 m above sea level.
© Silpika Kalita
Hidden past the highway bend,
a bench clings to a shallow cliff
above a beach where banks extend
across the bay in sandy drifts.
When tides are low, the sea withdraws,
to flaunt the treasured ocean floor,
and anyone can walk across
the sand to reach the other shore.
With green paint peeling like old flesh,
the bench is baked in salt and sun.
Remember when the paint was fresh,
and in your arms I came undone?
From here, we watch the water snag
in grooves of sand like buried mirrors.
The sky is pink as sunlight fades.
Come close, my love, I need you nearer.
*This poem is based on the green bench (yes, it really exists!) at Sand Dollar Beach, located in the Rose Bay area of Nova Scotia, Canada
Oft overlooked veterans,
of EVERY American war
The Medal of Honor,
one woman only ever wore.*
Women in Military Service,
a concept slow to grow.
Unrecognized, under-compensated,
yet, always there, always ready to go.
A Memorial to Women in Military Service,**
a concept slow to grow.
In every war, everywhere,***
they are always ready to go.
Please join me in well-deserved salute
to these mothers, sisters, lovers
and wives; usually unarmed, always brave.
Many died alongside men — the traditional soldiers.
*Only one women has been awarded the United States of America's Medal of Honor: Mary Edwards Walker (Civil War). How Many more deserved it?
**Located in Arlington National Cemetery
***If you are not US Citizen, please recognize the women veterans of your country, I'm sure there are many.
My dream holiday on an Island so far away
I’ve wanted to go there for many a day
‘Kon-Tiki’ film by Thor Heyerdahl caught my eye
Now Easter Island is a destination I dearly want to try
A journey, which would take me over land and sea
But to reach my destination would be a dream for me
Easter Island is located in the Pacific Ocean
I’d need to fly to Santiago de Chile then to Hanga Roa
The Rapa Nui tribe used to inhabit there
No trees are on the Island – isn’t that rare!
At one stage the Island suffered deforestation
This could explain the total devastation
The Island is famed for its archaeological sites
Its monumental statues cause many delights
‘Moai’ are the famous statues with oversized heads
They rest on rock altars ‘Ahu’ their own comfy beds
These incredible stone carvings are heavy and some are very tall
The largest at 86 tonnes would have been a nightmare to haul
To view all the statues I would stay for a day or two
I do hope one day my wish will finally come true
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