Best May Poems
In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope
(The Solemn Prayer)
Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.
On this day, life should see past these looming black-storms
Find solace in love, hope and my loving wife's arms
Yet that stone wall, yields to nothing but great power
Far more than this broken soul can muster this hour
When thus lost, can one ever find again that Light
Healer of dagger stabbed wounds, found on a dark night
I pray, gift wisdom to walk that one true-lit path
Release this sad soul from, this evil, wicked wrath.
Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-07-2017
Syllables Per Line:
12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12
Total # Syllables: 288
Total # Words: 225
Note- I decided to write this poem, this morn. About half had already been composed in my head yesterday afternoon and I finally sat down now to put pen to paper.
Believe me, in that it was not an easy task to finish this and be satisfied with the results.
Maybe I am just tired and stopped because of that.
I don't know. Maybe on another day, I could have and would have thought this lacking and rewritten it..
But today, I have only enough to say, this is as it is(and thus it may stay), hope you may find it agreeable and not fault me too much .......
On her terrace where she once had viewed a crimson field,
she stands recalling heroes who were battling their foe.
She still can feel the terror! How her poor heart reeled
thinking of her lover fighting on the field below,
with others on that plain bathed red as the sun dipped low.
The brave men lie in caskets which now are concealed
beneath a plain that ran with blood, where bright irises now grow.
She thinks of her own strong brave man, draped in white and sealed
forever in a casket too. He was her Romeo.
The sorrow flooding her she had never thought to know.
She looks down from her terrace with a heart that won’t be healed.
The mighty dead now lie in grassy fields. . . and lo!
Around the graves are swords, which are green blades revealed
with *purple flags that softly wave as a May wind starts to blow
and she is bathed in red again, there in the sun’s last glow.
* Purple flags refer to the name of the purple iris that resembles a flag
Submitted for Mark Toney's '2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 25' Contest
(this is a form called Swap Quatrain, where first
line's phrases swap in the last line of each stanza)
In shadows’ veils, at end of night,
sweet Moon removes her modest light
and softly, yet again, exhales -
at end of night, in shadows’ veils.
As she departs, her love’s released
to climb the stairway to the east.
They cannot meet to share their hearts.
Her love’s released as she departs.
She watches him while hid from view,
the way he kisses morning’s dew,
and sees gold rays spill from his rim.
While hid from view, she watches him.
Sad Moon, alone for centuries,
with awe has watched Sun leave, cerise.
while she, afar. . . how cold she’s grown!
For centuries, sad moon alone.
She takes his place so he may rest.
And though forlorn, she’s always dressed
in lace, for Luna has great grace.
So he may rest, she takes his place.
For love of night, for love of day,
she can’t implore him that he sway
from course. To be apart’s their plight.
For love of day, for love of night.
How beautiful is what I see today
peeking from the green
and almost unseen,
blossoming for me – the first rose of May!
While she’s in the pink,
time is but a blink.
In this merry month, oblivious is she
to what’s to come as she poses prettily -
destiny evading
Her joy for now is sweet. What can she know
of life’s suffering?
She hears robins sing.
On her face, tears are but a dewy glow.
She is hope anew
now that she’s in view!
Will she – like me – feel her soul plunge to sorrow?
Or will I – like her – be until tomorrow
destiny evading. . .
a wish faint and fading?
May 21, 2018 for Broken Wing's "Let Your Pen Drip" Contest
Uses Gregory Barden's invented Qarinage Rhyme Pattern. See notes above.
For 'THE CRAP SHOOT POETRY CONTEST' Poetry Contest of John Lawless
an impression of the world
stands before me
Left is right, and right is wrong,
and the mirror reflects a melancholy song.
i the mirror
not
the babbling brook,
or
the rippled river
whose images tell harmless lies.
i
the mirror,
who was once held in the
weak, shivering, hands of a life nearing its end
now lay
on broken, crushed bones, crumbs
and i
one thousand shards
the cracks
the jaded moments of my life.
i
an unintended semblance in the raging waters
crashing against the killing rocks of the rushing falls.
never utter the curse
"it can't get any worse"
the serpent swallows the swollen cow,
swallowed - the farmer's wife,
swallowed - her son,
swallowed - the thorny toad,
the black widow spider devours them all!
i the empty frame
the bits and bites of carpenter ants.
my world
a perverse facade
of
what should of been
of
what
is
of
what
was
or of
what? WHAT?
less?
i guess.
NEVER utter the curse
"it can't get any worse"
whose voice
will bring me peace,
whose rapier
will deliver me,
who will
burn my body whole
or
dig me a deep hole
or
throw me void of soul
into
the waters of the screaming ocean
who herself dies a slow painful death.
Dec 20 2015
armand
with a major contribution by
Joseph May
It seems that all my life I’ve seen some darker times
Now and then the times I knew were more than I could stand.
But, learn we must, from all hard times and soon we come to know
It’s trying times that we go through that makes a boy a man.
When we feel weak at heart and think we’ll never make it
Our spirit strengthens us to somehow carry on.
It’s then we learn that just at midnight things could get no worse
And soon we see the darkness fade and midnight brings the dawn.
Every midnight has a dawning
Every dawning has a day
Where daylight shines on things remembered
And some things lost along the way.
And every passing daylight
Brings evening into play
Where we’ll face another midnight
That brings, yet, one more dawning day.
It seems a pattern thus emerges,
Monotonous as it may seem,
Every midnight brings a dawning,
Filled with all our daylight dreams.
Dreams are meant to bring survival
To those who may have lost their way.
Who found the darkness of the midnight
Kept the dawning light at bay.
So, as near as I can figure,
There’s this we can rely on
However bleak the darkest midnight,
After midnight comes the dawn.
Written by John Posey
04/09/13
Though we’ve never met
I comprehend your beautiful words
I feel your pleasant persona
Never a mean word to be said
I ache from your kindness
Making others feel ten feet tall
Picking me up when I may fall
Talent beyond compare
Are you brunette or fair?
But that wouldn’t matter to me
If I never had the chance to see you face to face
Your wonderful personality I could never forget
You’ve help build a community of friends
Steady and true
I wish you peaceful skies of cobalt blue
Fields of flowers brushed in rainbow colors
I pray for love from God above
For you and your family beloved
Know that you touched lives that may not have been touched
You changed someone
And brought me a new reason to write
You’re an inspiration and a friend
And you’ve touched my heart polite
Gratitude pours forth
Written for and about Sharon Weimer !
In Such Intense Flames, An Eternity May Be Born
Hold your dreams, bind them with rainbow beams
tumble sweetly and let heart's passion arise
sow the seeds that love gives passion's great might
that Life and Love both gift oft in joyful surprise.
With that deep ardor born from Love's treasure chest.
Sing soul's worth and honor thy lover's greatest request.
Embrace those blessings that truest romance bestows
caress them with care and taste their honey sweet
let spring forth, memories that forever shall live
for gems of purest love, never suffer indignant defeat.
With that deep ardor born from Love's treasure chest.
Sing soul's worth and honor thy lover's greatest request.
Chase your heart's desire, revel in its glorious touch
kindle such heat, stoke fantasy and its hottest of fires
for in such intense flames, an eternity may be born
even after glow of passion's saddest of funeral pyres.
With that deep ardor born from Love's treasure chest.
Sing soul's worth and honor thy lover's greatest request.
Robert J. Lindley , 10-14-2018
Rhyme, ( Looking Back, Ages Ago)
Poet's Note- Dedicated to my great friend and writing partner, Susan Ashley.
Inspired by and composed after my reading of Susan Ashley's superbly crafted new poem titled, The Glory Of The Eastern Edge. Thank you dear friend for seeding this burst of early morn writing.
This revisiting of the romantic imaginations of my youth- reminds me now of the immense love and great blessings of my beloved wife Riza and the most cherished blessing of our beloved son Justin.
What once was lost, much later has been found..
Let us curry favor in dog star's
splendid laughing light
bring the crash of passion's waves
through two arms held tight.
I carry your wishes in love's
knapsack, strapped close
in tomorrow's hope
fashioned in new dawn's
golden charms.
Bring empathy in touch
understanding where
once was none, gone
in sorrow's parting.
Grant me true sight
unbridled, like a child's
reaching song..
your gleam in smile.
Rein in gallop of
heartbeat hooves
grant me sleep
so I may dream.
If 2012 prophesies prove true
And Earth’s life cycles again renew
Mysteries of man will be more than a few
Challenges may await future life forms
With intellects far surpassing our norm
Created to live without doing harm
For if they decipher man’s history
What will they make of our great mystery
The one we refer to as bigotry
Black labs, gold retrievers live side by side
Wild stallions and mustangs on prairies ride
Both red ants and black, free to colonize
Man’s refusal to accept differences
To wiser beings may make no sense
What in man’s makeup can give it credence?
Earth’s subsequent creatures may reproduce
Not needing two sexes to call a truce
So mating rituals may be pursued
A single-sex species might not comprehend
Why women workers were paid less than men
And why “free speech” was not just a given
Questions would most certainly arise
How a believer in God denies
Rights to free worship without compromise
And how could so many wars be waged
Evoking God’s name in death-march crusades
With killing, torturing in every age
Indeed such mysteries in man’s history
Would leave a perplexing legacy
Sure to confound any new species
New cultures may thrive on diversity
Of religion and genealogy
And speak of our inferiority
Note: This is dedicated to Christopher Higgins whose poems about prejudice inspire readers
to do more than just think about one of the greatest ills in our society.
The steep waning of duskfall held by one
Cuddled by a wheeze , the dim air’s pale light,
Nestling upon boughs of memoirs undone
As scenes rise mildly with an ached delight.
Although fall plunges into my own depth,
Giving way to chills of winter ,prolonged
So must spring blossom with a fragrant breath
For roam I must through peaks of Augusts’ song.
And musings dip upon the faltering wings
A blazed remembrance of seasons’ refrains;
Snuffed by love’s risk, hardened from cold warning
Oh time withers, breaks ...still I call your name.
Hearts evade pleas, sweet moments gone astray
That now I rest on a crib of old stars
But such is life allowing what is the way;
To gather new treasures...near or afar.
Judy Konos' C'est La Vie
11/5/2014
Emotions flooded my very soul as I viewed that Sacred Wall.
Etched for all eternity are hero's names who sacrificed their all.
I sensed that I was on hallowed soil as I knelt on bended knee.
I touched The Wall today, but more than that, The Wall touched me.
I offered a silent prayer for each of the names that I caressed.
Tho' their time here was brief, by them we were truly blessed.
They placed national destiny above their own defending liberty.
I touched The Wall today, but more than that, The Wall touched me.
They were ordinary Americans who performed extraordinary things,
Such grand and noble acts to ensure that freedom's bell yet rings!
They gave their full measure that humankind might live free.
I touched The Wall today, but more than that, The Wall touched me.
What might they have become, I muse, had fate not dealt them so,
A teacher, doctor, a farmer? Alas, we shall never know.
To teach nations The Golden Rule, I suspect would be their plea.
I touched The Wall today, but more than that, The Wall touched me.
Tho' grander monuments have been built for those of greater fame,
This simple yet powerful memorial will keep alive the flame,
Of humanity's quest for brotherhood, peace and dignity.
I touched The Wall today, but more than that, The Wall touched me.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Placed 7th in "The Best Day Of Your Life" Contest
Placed 3d in the "Your Best Poem" Contest" June 2010
Featured Poem Of The Week 2-9 May 2010
lst Place in Security Public Library (Colorado) Poetry Contest - May 2006
Published in Poet Bob Casey's Book, "An Oasis In A Cluttered World" - 2006
Last Dance by Darren White
Oh be my heart for me when it stops beating,
My lungs to breathe thin air still far too chill,
My feet to dance the world while I’m still living
As they still want but now no longer will.
Be my two arms and tug me in our tango—
Flamenco palo, wrap your wings around
My lithe frame, chant me our concluding canto
With all the strength in us you somehow found.
Oh sit with me and reminisce those dances…
Pure, perfect passion, smile and lift your head,
Observe illuminated skies above you…
We meet again, we’ll waltz soon in Atlantis.
With you here, there is nothing that I dread,
Do not be sad, this is not an adieu.
May I Have This Dance?
My heart beats a steady rhythm
Gale winds won't take my breath
Your feet on top of mine can dance all ebullient
And if your arms get tired, mine will hold your weight
No wings here-I am mortal
Let our spirits of freedom sate
And soar across the heavens, through the Milky Way
You are a bright lit candle-the flame will not go out
For I am keeper of the lighthouse
Scribing every nuance
Your words shine so, mi Estrella
Living words that sing and sway
Sometimes rhyming, artful placing
Every syllable is etched to stay
So, light the path of your life’s passions
Each word a heartfelt view
Dance for everyone to follow-learn the beauty that is you.
A place in the sun shines for me.
Under the acknowledgement tree.
I don't mean from others.
They are too busy to be bothered.
Only from my experiences in life,
I find them full and ripe!
Only you, really can crown your poem.
Put it in your warm heart~
The poem's true home!
5/5/2021
~3~
MAY BRIDE OF SPRING
May bride of Spring sheds shades of night
And dons a dress of Emerald green
Now winter’s chills are put to flight
May bride of Spring sheds shades of night
While humble Hawthorne blossoms bright
Like snow upon the hedge now seen
May bride of Spring sheds shades of night
And dons a dress of Emerald green