Best Lurked Poems
Streets of blood
She stood upon the terrace high
streets of blood below
The gate left open in the night,
a dark sky threatens snow
With swine and pearls running free
her bed sheets fought the wind
A tear drop fell her worried eyes
at hate now once again
Of drawbridge wars in endless fight
to stones of castle keep
A single rose a’ bloom this dawn
as mothers come to weep
For sons of father’s destined fall,
these followed footsteps bare
Along the streets so narrow, long,
where death becomes aware
“Enough!” she shouted far and wide
“This fighting now shall end”
“Take your swords and hateful spite,
do not return again”
And lifting high her amulet
upon a staff of wood
She chanted as the stone did glow
this morning where she stood
“Of peace, let all be felt this hour
Thy breath of saddened greed
Be gone, be gone, oh beast of war
No longer doth thou feed
Ye shadows o’er a nightfall mist
Lest blood befall your hand
Beyond this tree lined sacred place
Be gone from this our land”
When then a mighty wave did flow,
the streets were cleansed of fear
And there beyond horizons call
the sunrise did appear
And where once sat a single rose,
one thousand buds did grow
Of crimson red and silken gold,
the sweetest fragrance flow
Mothers hugged their children close
as loudly trumpets blared
The bloodied streets now white with snow
and love by all was shared
But there within the canyons lurked
cast eyes of beaded red
“I shall return to take this place
O’ ye who think me dead”
“To once more fill yon streets with blood
of this ye can believe
No matter what the masses want,
know this, I shall not leave”
Categories:
lurked, hate, love, peace, war,
Form:
Rhyme
You never really knew the beauty of your soul.
Of how it is possible to be both old and young
within the same body that tells about the years past,
but can put to shame so many of today’s indolent youth.
How were you able to retain such innocence,
for only a child can categorically say such abhorrence
of one type of food even with the knowledge that it is good?
Yet words of deep understanding pour forth from the same mouth.
When the gift to listen was showered upon the earth
you must have paid attention, for you have it in abundance
“To hear is normal, to listen, a gift, to understand...a miracle”*
One who would care to keep these words would understand. You do.
You are sensitive. Who would have thought it so?
You have that amazing capacity to command words to your bidding
and just the right touch of irreverence to twist them when it suits you.
Still and all, you feel the wound deeply and I’d hate to be the cause of it.
I tried to look into your heart through your words.
Words which were already read by many before I entered the scene
yet they did not see the sadness, the dark that lurked in the corner of your light -
They were too mesmerized by the laughter, to see the crosses in your eyes.
*John W. Wulf, author of the book The Lady Who Loves the Whisper
___________________________________________________________
1. The Poetry Soup Poem of the Week - 02 August to 08 August, 2015
2. The Crosses In Your Eyes Contest - 3rd Place , 29 July 2015
Sponsor: Justin Bordner -
Kim Patrice Nunez
27 July 2015
Categories:
lurked, friendship, tribute,
Form:
Free verse
WRITING IN A BLACK PERSPECTIVE
Why is it that someone's pain is felt pleasure to another?
I arrived with fears. I cared to find a friend, anywhere
But I wasn't taught to be my own; no school helped me to look within
I heard of God of deep blackness; with words, inciting light
One voice, one eye in our universe
My voice to converse felt crippled.
My family pools held many colors; warm as Caribbean sea breeze
Each person was of significance. Two were like gazelles, alluring
One was as dark as night, the other was near blinding white
Those in between were earth tones.
I looked out beyond decked windows. Multicolored Christmas lights blinked
Nonchalantly in dark of morning; snow was falling, and had covered bare
limbs of a cherry blossom tree- such picturesque view, i decided:
'On this most snowing, all white reigns supremely pure, as the black of night.'
The irises of my eyes were dark brown pools, merging with black pupils...
I was cinnamon; yet found solace in my shade of dark, no harsh light
Soft was my dark. No more depression lurked within. Mine eyes, my ears craved
Transparency; then came clarity. I understood triggers triggering depression
Revelations were as treasured as exercise. Fresh air, rain, sun, I was in awe of
My Higher Power's helpful hands- simplicity and clarity were blessings
I needed no Prozac.
At the start of a new day, I'd submerge in warmth, and baptize myself
I would bring soothing light to mesh with quiet dark
I would lounge, meditate, and pray. Sometimes I'd sing or hum a tune
I'd go fearlessly in the dark, knowing when not to rush
I'd go fearlessly near blinding lights, knowing where to focus.
Who am I? i am as soft as the sinews of you; yet steadfast
A dessert flower with dew of faith- even in winter
I am a flower, thriving like evergreen...
Amid histories fiercest touch to my roots
I know of grace, granted by the Source
Transcending me to live as never before understood.
I need not cry out my fears, in ways that let others fear
I must cry out injustices, so that others, too, may sing
I go fearlessly to face my fears, knowing scars are lessons learned
And good visualizations are as friends, not foes.
*
Categories:
lurked, perspective, universe,
Form:
Free verse
All around our hedgerows and gardens
Buds are forming bringing brilliant
Colour into our lives where previously
Dreary winter darkness lurked.
Everywhere new life is forming
Fields are bouncing with spring lambs
Gamboling about with their friends.
Hyacinths sensational scent fills the air
I simply love this time of year
Just bursting with new life
Knowing that spring is finally here
Lightens my spirits and
Makes me smile
Nesting birds collect food for fledglings
Only pausing for tiny breaks. They are
Perfect parents who work tirelessly
Quietly and lovingly
Raising their beautiful brood who are
Soon to leave the nest
Trees become dressed in gorgeous green
Until they are fully clothed
Verdant vegetation covers the land
With new crops growing
Xanthic coloured daffodils
Yearn for spring sunshine and merrily they
Zigzag in the warm winds
02~14~15
Contest Abecedarian - Shadow Hamilton
Submitted to Abecedarian contest sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
lurked, daffodils, nature, spring,
Form:
Abecedarian
‘Enter and explore’ read the sign above Blake’s Hall.
Sliding open the French doors I stepped inside
where I was greeted by a row of coloured doors.
Intrigued, I approached a green door, rested my hand
on the knob and turned it slowly. Peeping in I glimpsed
hope and harmony holding hands...then behind I espied
two scary beasts, eyes gleaming with greed and envy.
Hastily I closed the door and moved to the next, a red one.
Its intensity drew me like a magnet, and unhesitatingly
I opened it to reveal a room divided in two sections; in
one, passion, love and desire lay in warm embrace...
in the other, danger and malice lurked in the dim light.
Unsure of myself, I walked on to the next, a yellow door.
With renewed energy I stepped in to be met by joy’s
cheerful countenance, but this soon was obscured by
the unpleasant smell of sickness and foul decay.
Again, another hasty exit which led me to a purple door.
Inside I witnessed luxury; felt an aura of power, mystery...
at the same time foreboding gloom, and frustration
sent a shiver up my spine; uneasily I closed the door behind me.
Perplexed, abandoning my curiosity, I headed for the exit.
At that moment it dawned on me what Blake’s Hall stood for…
It was a clear reference to ... the doors of perception.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
© 31st March 2017
Categories:
lurked, color, confusion,
Form:
Prose Poetry
'Tis now known why the Willow weeps,
a tragedy of love, its memory keeps.
For once a young man and young maid,
on tender grass, beneath branches lay.
Though pledged by birth to another,
from clans they hid, to be together.
Thus, the gentle Willow was their choice,
meeting beneath, till love they could voice.
The Willow held these secret lovers dear,
so would lower its boughs, when they drew near.
Thus tucked away in the Willow's womb,
could lay as one, yet this love was doomed.
For jealousy lurked within the pines,
spying young lovers thus entwined,
behind Willow's curtain of slender limbs,
He swore the maiden, would yet be his.
Thus, it came to pass one day,
as young maid softly made her way,
to their Willow, deep within the glen,
espied the branches did already bend.
Timidly, as she did draw near,
soft sound of sorrow fell upon her ears.
Parting Willow's branches to look within,
a dampness did touch upon her skin.
The Willow was shedding sap laden tears,
for the young man, in death, was near.
'Twas an arrow that had been used,
a potent poison, the tip infused.
The maiden, now blind with grieving mist,
pulled out the arrow, held it, in clenched fist.
Whilst cradled in love's arms, did he draw last breath.
Then, young maid, plunged the arrow, into her breast.
And so it is, that this story is told,
as the Willow's grief would not be consoled.
For unable to stop what had befell,
the young lovers, it had hid so well.
With will broken, as lovers lay dead,
the Willow, its branches, never again spread.
And because it is the memory it keeps,
it is to this day, that the Willow weeps.
Categories:
lurked, death, fantasy, lost love,
Form:
Ballad
Full of marketable commodities like xebec.
Waves of pure affection are slashed mercilessly.
Feelings: a sea upon which to wander carefree.
Devil swears to be a dove to trick people cursorily.
The doll dances on a string of yellow-golden hair.
It dyes its lips crimson with the blood of its lost prey.
It attracts people with its flirtatious smile and low blare.
Because of her, falls even the most religious people.
The ashes of destroyed rags cover the black eyes.
A sparkling smile covers Beelzebub's smile.
Her mistress is responsible for her spiritual slave.
A dark soul lurked deep within his radiant skin style.
Silicon's enticingly boosted slopes were xyloid-brittle.
Sword-like claws dig into the soul in sensual delight.
Obsession can be generated by female objects.
She does terrible things to helpless people fight.
The floral fantasies all turn xerophilous and prickly.
Salacious downpours became unending floods of sobs.
A terrible memory of a lost love left him feeling empty.
The reverberation of her laughing still throbs.
Written: September 15, 2022
Tragi comedy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
Word bank:
*xebec-also spelled zebec, was a Mediterranean sailing ship that was used
mostly for trading.
*Beelzebub- Satan, the Devil.
*xyloid- resembling qualities of wood
*xerophilous- A xerophile is an extremophilic organism that can grow and
reproduce in conditions with low availability of water.
Categories:
lurked, analogy, bereavement, conflict, feelings,
Form:
Rhyme
It was a gorgeous house
Dated in its style
A stone-walled bungalow
Quiet sitting up on a hill
I’d never seen a sign of life
And the stories lurked about
Owned by an old photographer
Whose son had hung himself
A house that seemed abandoned
Where everyone had left their soul
In some form passed away and died
Leaving just the ghosts to roam
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Posted on February 13, 2019
Categories:
lurked, dark, home, house, sad,
Form:
Free verse
Alone I walked on a littered part
A companion I seek on my journey
Saluting me was a weird man afar
Sitting inside an abandoned caravan
Looking tattered in a torn sleeveless
Haaa! Haaa! Haaa! His laughter continues…
He was eating from a barbaric piece of cake
Hey brother! Whispered the lunatic
At this point restless became my mind
And then I ran into a mud shelter to hide
A deep breath of relief I took and sat
Resting my back on the primitive cracked wall
Only to hear a strange voice echoing again
Just like the sound of many water dropping
I stood up but behold my legs are heavy
At this time I was weak and weary
I couldn’t help but to give up
For the evil lurked in the darkness
But when I was about to scream!
Mama woke me up from sleep
For I have been dreaming a dream
Categories:
lurked, adventure, allegory, allusion, anger,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
For two long years, maybe more
You lurked in hibernation, silently sleeping
Waiting for the time you reared your ugly head
The surgeons couldn’t find you
But in our hearts we knew you were there
Test after test – a waiting brief
You stole away our lives like a silent thief
Then finally they found you
Hidden away in the depths of his body
Waiting for the chance to create more damage
But finally they were ready for you
To eradicate this blight from our lives
You were no match for the robotic machine
And not the surgeon’s knife
He was there sitting behind a console
And he took away your life
Prostate cancer you are gone
And we are finally free.
Entered into 101 in a row contest # 4 sponsored by PD Linda:-)
15th February 2014
Categories:
lurked, cancer, husband,
Form:
Free verse
In England’s pleasant pastures amid the free wild flowers
Lie pagan ways the wise ones do not mock
And one adept at harnessing these ancient rural powers
Was Oggwool Fleece, the black sheep of the flock
Oggwool was old, much older than the old oak it was said
Beneath whose boughs the dark sheep’s plans are sealed
‘Twas said the sheep had come back from the other side of dead
With the darkness in that corner of the field.
The farm hands better knew to venture in the oak’s strange shade
Or to the long grass that the darkness gripped
Where Oggwool lurked amid the spells and potions he had made
A sheep unshorn and magically undipped.
Not limited by four hooves in working his deft skill
Unhindered in ambitious sheepish plans
Harnessing the dark elves to do his dark sheep will
Dexterously with little dark elf hands.
From that darkened corner of that English country field
His influence extends itself outside
His arcane woolly web through which his mystic powers wield
Reaching parts and persons spread worldwide
He has extensive vineyards in Italy and Spain,
He has mining operations in Peru
He owns a flock of ostriches down in the Ukraine
(Although he never quite intended to)
He’s engineering world events on scales beyond the ken
He has his hooves in business of all kinds
He interferes remorselessly in world affairs of men
With night-time thoughts drip-fed to human minds
Little green men fly through space in saucers flat and round
On interstellar missions without cease
But on their furthest journey yet, their enterprise is bound
To the ever growing plans of Oggwool Fleece
The politicians spin their words and armies shoulder arms
And yet do not beyond their small acts see
But Oggwool Fleece with thistle skills and other sheepwise charms
Is planning how to rule a galaxy!
Categories:
lurked, adventure, animals, business, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: June 22, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Poisonous toxin flowed into my veins.
transmitting a cold, apathetic nihilism.
We stumbled off the trail, you idiotic humans.
Our once-cherished pride is broken as a prism.
Once we stood tall, our heads held high,
With hearts filled with hope and dreams,
But then came the venom, spreading through,
Tainting our souls, ripping at the seams.
The poison, akin to a serpent's bite,
Injected into our utter core,
Slowly consuming our sense of purpose,
Leaving us empty, longing for something more.
Oh, foolish humans, we were blind,
To the danger that lurked so near,
We danced with demons, unaware,
Of the venomous poison we'd soon fear.
It seeped through our veins
As a river of darkness and despair,
Draining us of joy and leaving only pain,
An emotionless nihilism, we couldn't bear.
Our once vibrant spirits turned to ash,
As the venom slowly took control,
Our laughter turned to hollow cries
Echoing through the depths of our soul.
We tried to fight, to resist its grip,
But the poison was too strong, too deep,
It wrapped around us as a suffocating shroud,
Leaving us lost, unable to sleep.
Categories:
lurked, analogy, angst, bereavement, betrayal,
Form:
Rhyme
In the bushes lurked a man
Keeping handy
Bits of candy
Luring children in the bushes
Where he hit them,
Scratched them, bit them.
If a man hides in the bushes
Don't go near him
If you hear him
In the bushes with a club
He will beat you,
Cook you, eat you.
This is another unpublished early poem, circa 1969, from the forever-after ongoing series "Lucifera's Questionable Daycare Poems and Stories."
Categories:
lurked, candy, child abuse, children,
Form:
Rhyme
I accidentally stepped into the women's restroom
Turned around to quickly leave
Noticed there was no one there
Then turned back around for a manly peak
What the ladies do in here
Has always been a mystery
So I lurked about and scouted out
To let all the other men know what I've seen
First thing right off the bat I noticed
What appeared to be a sofa against the wall
Thinking it a pretty fancy toilet
Not to be hidden in a stall
As curiosity was killing this cat
I went over to lift the lid
The guys will never believe this
A couch is really what it is
No wonder the women take so long
When they say they'll be right back
They all head together to the restroom
To take themselves a little nap
Then over on the counter
I see bottle after bottle after bottle of perfume
I know that girls like to smell nice
But you have to wonder exactly how good
Just then I decided to crawl under the counter
A little more in depth into the mystery
That's when I heard the voices
Coming down the hallway at me
I can't tell you how many hours
I was stuck in that bathroom stall
But I can tell you it felt like forever
As the women jabbered and talked...
...and this being a holiday weekend
They shut the lights and locked the door
Which I guess is okay since I needed a break
And no one's here to hear me on the couch as I snore
Categories:
lurked, funny, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
I remember the tears
with yesterdays pain
that dreadful year
of October rain
Darkened skies
with clouds of grey
gloom which followed
everyday
Hidden in shadows
fate lurked at me
a game of life
which took three
With each breeze
of passing wind
fate just laughed
at me again
Cold wet rain
stained my face
salty tears
I could taste
As I looked
up to the sky
I could not help
but wonder why
My soul screamed
with terror and pain
that dreadful year
of October rain
Categories:
lurked, angst, death, loss, october,
Form:
Bio