Best Massed Poems
Fall the leaves of the forest tho death has yet passed...
Unto moonlit shadows within crypts' hidden rot
Apparitions they say, where the innocent massed
Oh but lo! To the truth they are blind; it is naught
They're but fragmented feelings of love left aghast;
From her heart they were torn; bits he stabbed then forgot
Laid still, bloodied no longer to beat; darkness cast
The shadows cannot hide nor contain the scars wrought
Left to wander until retribution is brought
12/18/2017
Categories:
massed, allegory, betrayal, judgement,
Form:
Rhyme
Act 1: Earth
Water
Droplets fall to earth
Meniscus lens on the world -
Wellspring of life born
Air
Gaseous brew forms
Invisible elixir -
A breath of fresh air
Fire
Destructive, cleansing
But giver of warmth and light –
Fire’s dual perspective
Act 2: Plant
Leaf
Spring buds burst afresh
Summer leaves decay so soon –
Death lords over all
Palm
Giant grass not tree
These swaying centurions -
Lives must co-exist
Sunflower
Massed bright sunflowers
Heads turn in obedience -
Sun sets on their lives
Act 3: Animal
Slug
Slug saw juicy leaf
Raced to eat this rare delight!
Bird swooped, slug no more
Ant
Ants march home in line
Communal desire on show -
Nature's will prevails
Butterfly
Winged beauty flutters
Abstract painting on her back -
Looks often deceive
Act 4: Man
Crescent
Curvaceous glory
The home of wealthy leisure -
Rich built upon poor
Gaudi
Parabolic waves
Acknowledge natural forms -
Colour outlaws grey
Dubrovnik
Sun shines on pan tiles
The town's uniform new shell -
War scars fade slowly
Act 5: Machine – the final chapter
Computer
Bits, bytes, ones, zeros
So Charles and Ada conceive -
IT’s Pandora’s box
Robot
Man and beast replaced
Same task over and over -
Objective carnage
AI
Boolean bible
Artificial ignorance -
Logical ending
Postscript: Evolutionary finale
Obliteration
Human destruction of earth -
Annihilation
Poetry Soup Featured Poem: August 16, 2020
Categories:
massed, animal, earth, environment, fire,
Form:
Haiku
Searched within the walls of my feeble mind
In brain matter scattered, but could not find
proof that orange is just humdrum,
To this conclusion I have come -
if orange is ordinary ~ I'm blind.
Brighter than most, it stands out in a crowd.
Bold enough not to be bullied or cowed.
Tones of setting sun refined.
Shade of ripe cantaloupe rind.
Don't accuse it of being brash or loud.
Lilies and tulips massed in flower bed,
More lovely than roses of crimson red.
Tangerine citrus and its zest,
fruit that many consider best,
Breakfast juice, orange marmalade on bread.
Not ordinary is orange to me.
If you think so look again and you'll see
Orange vest could save your life -
Fields of yams and pumpkins rife -
Coral breasted robins who fly so free.
:::............:::.............:::.............:::
3/4/16 Color Contest: Orange
Sponsor: Silent One
Categories:
massed, color,
Form:
Limerick
THAW AT CROWSNEST PASS
Huge mountains massed and cliffs sheer. It’s March
And endless blue sky cold is held back by the Chinook arch,
Snowy prairies rolling into their thousand-mile realm -
The landscape is gigantic, majestic, orchestrated to overwhelm.
But I stand and watch the lake-ice thaw,
Surprised by the tiny delicate music -
Descant ice - jingling, jangling, tinkling
In delicate accompaniment to the giant symphony.
Ice chunks tangled in slow waves with the wind
Tiny tintinnabulation before total ablation.
There is silence and harmony around the sound,
The small melody of the ice breaking into spring’s chorus.
Note: Crowsnest Pass is the southernmost way through the Rocky Mountains in Canada
Categories:
massed, nature, mountains,
Form:
Free verse
They wondered where the sunshine had all gone,
and gentle breezes warming spring's array;
the hues of pink that greeted breaking dawn,
and children’s laughter lighting up the day.
The darkness loomed; uneasy feelings spread
as clouds of war diffused across the land,
and somehow knowing what was faced ahead,
the Europeans braced for strife at hand.
The Nazi War Machine their muscles flexed;
their Panzer units massed at Poland’s edge
thus leaving nations of the world perplexed
at German conquest as reports allege.
And thus the world was plunged into the war
as Europe fell into the dark once more.
January 2, 2019
Categories:
massed, anxiety, conflict, war,
Form:
Sonnet
Dusty rose and orange gold when daybreaks;
And burnished reds and mauve at setting sun.
The mountains in shades of beauty awakes;
And retires to the same when day is done.
The mountains are massed in riotous blooms,
While sometimes obscured by lemony clouds,
As heady scents drift all the afternoons,
And into nights, appearing in dark shrouds.
Now and then crowned by such lovely rainbows,
Before birds sing to the warm lilac nights,
So still in dreams of June's golden yellows,
With its humming life, and butterfly flights!
Daytime and nighttime bring endless beauty,
Through sunlit mountains hued so profusely.
Categories:
massed, beauty, color, mountains, nature,
Form:
Sonnet
It was a day of chaos
The day the pensioners struck,
Massed Mobility Scooters moving
Forward like a Rugby Union ruck,
Blocking all the streets
In the centre of town,
To all intents and purposes
Closing the city down.
The police were very tolerant,
Withdrawing their attack
After more than one officer suffered
From a wielded walking stick's whack.
The atmosphere changed
Soon after that
Lots of bonhomie
Banter and chit chat.
The action was called offi
Promptly at five to three
Thus allowing each
To be home in time for tea.
The action wasn't called
For any cause or good:
No it was carried out
Just to show they could.
Massed Mobility Scooters moving
Forward like a Rugby Union ruck.
It was a day of chaos
The day the pensioners struck.
Categories:
massed, age, fun, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Nostalgic
Enthralled
Voyage
Ever
Rapturous
Beguiling
Reverie
Exhibits
Alluring
Kaleidoscope
Don’t
Rupture
Ecstasy
Amassed
Mind
September 30, 2019
Contest :Three Word Acrostic
Sponsor : Bobby May
Categories:
massed, dream, inspirational,
Form:
Acrostic
They stood in the bright Andalucian sunlight
The noble sunflowers with stance upright
Massed yellow ranks portray solidarity
Faces and heights display uniformity
Unquestioning loyalty to the hot sun
First the seeds are sown and their hearts are won
Swaying in the breeze their gaze never falters
As their master’s arc continually alters
Brown, yellow or purple faces can be
And a bright yellow halo surrounds all three
Broad coarse-toothed leaves on spiral stems lie
These giant plants stand fifteen feet high
Beneath their beauty lies valuable treasure
Leaves, seeds and oil to be used at our pleasure
Dried seeds are eaten or ground to make bread
Oilcake to stock and poultry are fed
As blazing sun sets on hot, summer days
Sunflowers bow their heads through lack of sun rays
But with summer over they wither and die
Ready for use as food supply
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Published in Ensalada Mixta: Observations and Inspirations
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Little can compare with the dazzling yellow of fields of sunflowers in the Spanish sunshine. However, it is a short-lived spectacle and soon decay takes hold. It is a story about nature’s way. It is also a story which can happen to the people of a country – hope, oppression and destruction. The difference is that there is no choice in nature but there is a choice for people."
2nd place in Have You Published. Sponsored by Line Gauthier November 2020
Categories:
massed, flower, spanish,
Form:
Rhyme
I came to set the captives free
I gave them a chance to see me
But they got it wrong, didn’t hear
The wonderful truth I came to share
Father forgive them they know not what they do
I tried to tell them the truth about love
But they shut their ears and walked away
Afraid of what this love would entail.
So they set out a plan to bring me down
Father forgive they know not what they do.
When Judas came with massed arms troupes
And on my face he placed his kiss.
They took me away and put me on trial.
They mocked me and beat me and said I must die
Father forgive them they know not what they do
When they led me away to the hill of death
And stuck cruel nails in my hands and feet
When they lifted my cross high in the sky
And jeered and taunted the king of the Jews
Father forgive them they know not what they do
As my hour draws near and darkness descends
The man next to me speaks his final plea
You are the son of God and when you’re in heaven
Please Lord please remember me
Father forgive them for they know not what they do
The sky grew darker and the pain increases
I now will take the whole sin of the world
This weight it engulfs me like a cloak.
My father’s eyes in sorrows turn away
And all I can say is father forgive them
The story of Easter is very well known
And we marvel at Jesus for the words that he said
BUT WHAT WILL YOU DO NOW IT’S OVER AND DONE
How will you respond to this wonderful love?
Categories:
massed, death, easter, forgiveness, life,
Form:
Free verse
I spied him by the road at rest,
one scarred and marked by battle's test.
He bore great countenance of life,
this ancient warrior worn from strife.
His vestments lay shed 'neath an oak,
thick muscled frame and tunic's cloak.
From sleep, he woke as I walked by,
and marked me with a dense, dark eye.
"Join me," he spoke, then fully rose.
"Find shade and lie here, in repose.
Let me regale of battles massed,
of valiant men, their lives now passed.
Each scar I bear, each strike of blade
I know the time and place was made."
I sat beside his shining brand,
he spoke of those slain by his hand.
My gaze transfixed he fired my dreams
of battles where blood ran like streams.
His gleaming gladius would strike flesh
the sweat and blood of foes to mesh.
His only hope to strike and live,
no quarter drawn and none to give.
While I sat in a trancelike state
he voiced of brave men meeting fate.
At last, he stood and stretched his frame,
and sighing, softly spoke this claim.
"I've died a hundred times from fear,
escaped each mortal blow when near.
These words I'd pray as battle surged
when my own life was nearly purged.
'Grant courage, valor, honor, death.'
A fearful soldier's last deep breath."
"Young man, we've broken our fast here.
The time to rise and depart, near.
You shared our time and listened well,
to tales this time-worn warrior tells."
"Great soldier, where will your road end,
on far flung field, with loyal friend?
Let battle's call now pass you by.
Live on in peace 'til called to die!"
"I'll trek until I find good end.
Now part and call this soldier, friend.
No far flung marsh or battle drum,
I march and seek Elysium!"
The Road and the Ancient Soldier
11-23-13
Rhymed Couplets
Categories:
massed, allegory, hero, journey, mentor,
Form:
Rhyme
Cooling evening air and the smell of naughty smoke,
nameless camarades all sharing beers and a joke
beneath a natural stadium roof of stars and midnight blue
massed ranks all sat by fires, just like the eve of Waterloo.
huddled expectation, leather jacket wrapped round tight
monolithic stage a silhouette in crisp moonlight.
Someone shouts for Wally, or a friend that has gone missing
giggles under blanket from some dreamy youngsters kissing.
Conversation halted by the two-word intervention
“one two,one two” Marshall HiWatt really gets the crowd's attention.
People racing to the front, they want to get there first
The noise as bubbling patience starts to strain now, fit to burst.
I shout out to the burger bar for brother, but in vain
the roar from eighty thousand like an oncoming subway train.
A single drumbeat, crashing chord, a fan of laser light,
the massed ranks rise, fists to the sky, guys, here we go- Alllllllllllrightttttttt!
One minute in, it's deafening, the front rows start to jam,
my raison d'etre plainly clear- I rock, therefore I am.
Categories:
massed, music,
Form:
Rhyme
I've been digging through my past
Like a miner digging for gold
But all I'm finding is coal
So I reset the path to my goal
To cleanse the depths of my soul
I bury myself in a pool of blood
Pouring it in until it floods
And I'm wiping away the mud
Of a thousand poetic duds
That dropped like bombs
Sifting through the words to keep calm
I'm a stoic soldier reading the psalms
And I can fabricate my own way
As I wake up to a new day
Knowing I had been led astray
By the very words in my own head
But I'll thread all these words together
As I seek to make myself better
I'll be as light as a feather
No longer chained by the debtor
And upon my head I'll wear the crown
As I march with confidence through this town
Drownin' nouns in the frowns of clowns
I'm ready to get down and get around
With my poetic verse being the only sound
As I've shed the shackles of the past
And as the spirits have massed for my verse
I've reversed the course of my curse
And turned a gift that had gone the worst
And transformed it into a savage thirst
As my words burst through the speech bubbles
I'll eradicate my past troubles
By salvaging my spoken word
Spurred to take flight like a golden bird
And on the strength of my wings
I'll proudly proclaim the return of the king
Categories:
massed, change, inspiration, rap, spoken
Form:
Free verse
Four long years have past, World Cup here at last
Thirty two teams full of hope, live their dreams
from all over our world, adorers massed
Within Russia's realms, friendship to extremes
Football fever, expectation from fans
Nil nil will not suffice on or off the pitch
technology enforces rules and commands
Our beautiful game for all, poor or rich
soccer is sport, brings most nations together
With one aim our team to win is our goal
play in sun or rain whatever the weather
skilful athletes, architects of ball control,
enjoy the comradely, pleasure and joy
cheer your home team when they score
let’s compete on the football pitch oh boy
it’s got to be better than on fields of war.
June 17 2018
2018 World Cup Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney.
Categories:
massed, beautiful, dream, football, international,
Form:
Rhyme
These grassy margins under sky of blue,
so peaceful. Then a rumble, sudden blast –
can you stand your ground as the train roars through?
Here’s Progress. Boston, all across this New
England, folks with tickets for transit massed.
These grassy margins under sky of blue
once buffered cities. Landscape’s subtle hue,
a pleasant walk – gone, outmoded, outclassed.
Who could stand his ground as the train roars through
for Commerce? Stockcars in which ram and ewe
are hurtled toward their slaughter house, too fast
for grassy margin under sky as blue
as berries ripe in August – something true
that you could taste, and savor to the last.
Can you stand your ground as the train roars through
hauling its cargo? Where the wild-rose blew,
now coal-smoke smudges what was, but is past.
Those grassy margins where the sky was blue
couldn’t stand their ground when the train roared through.
Categories:
massed, history, nature, sky,
Form:
Villanelle