Best Mazy Poems
In her eyes, I saw love eternal a mesmeric maternal with a seismic smile
For in her tears I saw life’s pain as she would restrain her turbulent trial
In her eyes, I saw a selfless soul as she kept control in her daily mazy mile
For within her silent stare a pensive prayer the solitudes of her immobile
~~~
In her eyes, I saw the light of God as I stood and awed at her internal being
Amidst her inner thoughts, a mind tied in knots of a heart fluttering fleeing
In her eyes, I saw myself a distant dust on a shelf before her final sleeping
For in her eyes of May that soon faded away until our next mystic meeting.
In honor of the first day of May, this contest is for your best poem from LAST May. So it must be dated, from 5/01 to 5/31 of 2018. Minimum 3 lines, maximum of 14 lines. Any topic except political and religious, please.
Originally posted May.11.2018
Contest sponsored by Anthony Slausen
In Memory of my Mom~Emma...May.16.1941~Oct.24.2017
May her memory live forever
Repost...May.02.2019
Memories of May Poetry
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner
N/A for contest
Categories:
mazy, best friend, mother, remember,
Form:
Rhyme
I know I’ve made a thousand journeys,
withstood the tests of time and foe
shed the dust and shouldered worries
struggled onward against the flow.
Unconforming, seldom bending
straight the path I ever took.
Challenge was my unending passion
contradiction I forsook.
I’ve battled tempests ‘fore and ‘hind me,
I’ve seen the devil at my heels.
Seldom knowing what lay before me
never knowing how respite feels.
I’ve seen the Valkyries and Forty Furies
their mazy circles in the sky,
taunting, haunting, ever daunting
beckoning from their aeries high.
I’ve crossed the searing sands of Gobi
and scaled Himalaya’s rocky tors,
badlands, wastelands all behind me,
walked upon the Seven shores.
I’ve gazed upon the Northern Lights
and seen the Southern Cross at sea.
I’ve traveled east and journeyed west,
no home or kindred claiming me.
No ebb of tide did succor bring me,
no place of solace ever found
but grappled fiercely all that challenged,
gaining purchase on the ground.
I rose against what life beset me
with courage the gruel for my soul,
hampered, harassed, never emptied,
firm and resolute toward my goal.
But it’s finished now, I’ve done my part
and I’ve left nothing uncompleted.
No looking back, no ruing thoughts
all my convictions undefeated.
And now I’m on that final journey
through all meridians of time and space,
with hope to meet the God that gave me
aeonian fortitude to run the race.
© August, 2015
Categories:
mazy, adventure, courage, freedom, identity,
Form:
Carpe Diem
Wading through flooded streets as hurricane rain poured
A man fell into the flow when sharp thunder roared
As a journalist reporting live from the scene
I saw lightning crack through the sky, heard the man scream
“Is he homeless?” I asked the emergency crew
The director shook his head; the answer he knew
“He lives in our park now, but served in Vietnam
He saved his entire unit from the Viet Cong.”
The team pulled him from the gutter to the shelter
I brought him tea, forgot I was a reporter
I asked why he’d screamed, his memory seemed hazy
“Did you hear the bombs drop?” asked Captain Bob Mazy
The emergency director took me aside
“We call him Crazy Mazy,” he did confide
He suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder
Can’t live with the lives he took following orders.”
When Hurricane Kate passed o’er the Gulf Coast
I’d seen much destruction, but remembered Mazy most
His story I broadcasted and vets contacted me
The donations poured in; so many gave freely
Soon we’d accumulated twenty-five grand
Just enough to buy Mazy an acre of land
Then people from his home state gathered one weekend
To build him a home, much effort they expended
Several social workers set up counseling services
To meet all his needs, everyone made concessions
Local stores gave him clothing, food, even a job
No longer “Crazy Mazy,” he was now just Bob
A gentle man who soon overcame all his fears
On Memorial Day, he was greeted by cheers
Accolades he’d never heard when he returned from Nam
But attitudes had changed and people’s hearts had warmed
Categories:
mazy, inspirational, people, war, ,
Form:
Narrative
Wanton Willows weave athwart the weir
Wishing all the while wilful to wind
Their winsome wands that whelm and win
The restive writhing watery way
Meandering in moonlit mazy motion
Then moving on in misty morning mood
The river runs by reed and grassy mead
Where wily waders’ stalk in stealth concealed
The stream now slows tween sandy sides
With susurrating sound surround
As silvery strains speak of the sea
And flow transforms to estuary
Breakers brash now beat the brook
Unbinding bounds of broadening bay
And memories now melt of milder motion
The River to be merged with mighty ocean
Categories:
mazy, nature,
Form:
Alliteration
Make me a flower delicate and sweet,
spewing fragrance into the blowing breeze .
Make me a violin from whose strings
melody flows to soothe the ailing nerves .
Make me a rain cloud sailing over the breadth
and length of the skies showering cooling droplets
on to the thirsting mouth of the Earth.
Make me a lamp shedding beams of light
dissipating darkness from the mazy depths of gloom .
Make me a vessel full with love to pour out
into all the empty pitchers.
Make me a yacht with sails filled by the wind
that I can ferry the sinking souls to safer shores of life.
Let every atom of my being throb with Thy filling love
Let it spring forth in jets to form the gushing stream
Let many drink from that fountain and taste
the sweetness of Thy nourishing love
Let the land be watered, let the dirt be cleansed
Let the Earth wear a celestial charm
Let the plants celebrate the carnival of colors
In my basket shall I gather many a fragrant bloom
to be offered at your feet with love
and remain squatted in Thy presence ,
not losing in the pageant of this transient life.
Winter Wishes Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Chantelle Ann Cooke
Categories:
mazy, celebration, devotion, longing,
Form:
Free verse
(12 Syllable Blues)
Why you go there resides within your pretty head
Where to muse of a confined love pale and flagrant
When you could be home here safe asleep in your bed
To wander through each night as one would a vagrant
In streets of shadows where silhouettes dwell mazy
Where to muse of a confined love pale and flagrant
For this place hence leaves my heart grave my mind hazy
Your eyes wide open and only for the moonlight
In streets of shadows where silhouettes dwell mazy
Your need to taste the power of the bloom such plight
When steps you take so brazen a journey of chance
Your eyes wide open and only for the moonlight
To tout your wares a dangerous game in life’s dance
Under a stale archaic lamp in lanes narrow
When steps you take so brazen a journey of chance
Fearful I am one dark day I will find you dead
Why you go there resides within your pretty head
Under a stale archaic lamp in lanes narrow
When you could be home here safe asleep in your bed.
© Harry J Horsman 2018
Categories:
mazy, angst, love,
Form:
Terzanelle
“I feel my life so empty. It is preferable to fill a tomb to being doomed to live out a life that is empty” ~ By Poet.
Darkness encompasses my space.
My future is seen so bleak where feral beasts hide.
Not even a glow worm to throw light.
I see no chance of deliverance.
Through the mazy depths of gloom, I wade,
Struck with the pestilence of rejection and hate.
Hopes are now like shredded threads,
Frayed away from a rope.
I seek shade under a leafless tree.
I hold on to a crutch as a prop.
I curl up like a helpless embryo,
Floating and whirling in lucid agony.
Shutters of Distress is about to close in
Before that, I should invite death.
Lying in death is preferable to living with death.
I must cross this cursed field.
My tomb I see under a humble stone.
I shall rest there, no more haunted by the fret of life.
It could be just a mound of earth,
My lone resting place in a deserted corner
Where no one will ever visit this nondescript.
Where no one comes with a bouquet of blooms,
Where dandelions may sprout from cracks,
To honor this mongrel of a man.
* * * * * *
In the absence of pallbearers and a hearse
I totter carrying my orphaned corpse,
And walk the deserted road,
Inching my way to my grave.
Categories:
mazy, angst, death, grave,
Form:
Free verse
Little things that made her laugh, ways that she came to me
Lilies by her photograph, beauty beyond beauty
Poems on her pillowcase, smiles to bring the dawn in
Pain etched deep within her face, the sorrow, now I mourn
Kindness to all living things, mercy for the broken
Dahlias before diamond rings, love of life unspoken
Lazy walks down mazy lanes, all our leaves were falling
Hazy thoughts, love-crazy brains, memories I recall
That love, that love, stronger than the sun
That love, that love, a love for only one,
My love for you just goes on and on
That love is still this love.
Now my mind's in reverie, here comes our song again
Fire in your eyes for me, feel the passion heal the pain
Heart by heart, and soul by soul you took my rhythm from me
Traded for my stride you stole you burned your love print on me.
That love for me, stronger than the sun
That love for me, love for only one
My love for you just goes on and on
That love will always be this love.
Categories:
mazy,
Form:
Ballad
When the mind grows a kind of weary the eyes dull
A sign that at this time one’s life is nearby full,
First reaction to reverse the journey void ‘n’ null
Must be one hell of a task so many mortals to cull,
Reams of questions reasons to debate senses to mull
When told to ready one’s self to join the everlasting lull.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Categories:
mazy, muse,
Form:
Monorhyme
At three a.m. the annoying telephone rings
“Hurricane Kate will soon be making landfall;
Drive to Panama City, start collecting your things”
Microphones and tape recorders, I pack them all
Just one week till the end of hurricane season
“Thanksgiving’s coming,” I grouse as I hit the road
Scrub pines twist furiously; I know the reason
Five months of calm weather, but now the motherload
A drive that is usually two hours now takes five
Lightning strikes everywhere, brightening the night sky
Approaching the beach, I’m lucky to be alive
I sit in fascination; the waves are so high
The fisherman’s pier collapses into the sea
A spin-off tornado tears the roof off a school
Disoriented, a man wades through the debris
I invite him to my car so we can seek safety
A vivid bolt of lightning sends him to his knees
He covers his ears as thunder roars ominously
I toss my raincoat over him, watching him freeze
He can’t tune out the noise and acts irrationally
When we arrive at the emergency center
People gather round him and I ask who he is
“We call him Crazy Mazy,” says the director,
“He served in Vietnam, many medals are his.”
With Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, he’s homeless
Living on the streets, Captain Jim Mazy seemed strange
The locals knew him well and offered him kindness
But to outsiders like me, he appeared deranged
For seventy-two hours, I stayed on the air
Talking to officials and those who assisted
As death reports came in, we bowed our heads in prayer
When I tried to talk to Mazy, he resisted
It was he I remembered most when I drove home
Members of the Capital Press Corps united
No longer on the street would this veteran roam
Compassion for a war hero had been ignited
Habitat for Humanity gladly pitched in
As did the public, when Mazy’s story was broadcast
Never again would he writhe in a hurricane’s din
Storms were behind him, Mazy had a home at last
*True account, written June 28, 2014
Categories:
mazy, hero, storm,
Form:
Rhyme
they were young and laughing easy
running free in careless ways
casual with sunlight
molten flared with open faces
small princes rode in barley fields
wading in clear rivers
pouring years of life
as I watched slow
older vision, elder tongue
days lowered like gauzy veils
mazy sunlight, dusted
broken through falling leaves
and broken branches
to walk, to run
to join the circle
I'd be shining copper in the sun
moments left on sparrow'd wings
looking down on them and some
liquid in their trust
floating like fire lanterns
on blue black skies
burning heaven
with purest throats
plasmatic in their youth
but agon calls with beckoned creep
time turned, shadow’s glance
sweeping years like saharan wind
all just faces motes blown by
as tenor cries fade down the glade
nodding, given charon’s due
slipped away
back to that glen
run on pathways shining new.
Categories:
mazy, children, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse
Those that went before him
Were promised an orphan
By the brutality of the elements
The pestilence of society
They were the pleaders of history
The wounded veterans
Of internecine strife
Victims of little prejudices
Whose faith in the probable
Had been shattered
By those profound revelations
Woe the iron-bound skeptics
When he- a dreamy scholar
Intellectual in times before
It was fashionable to be a freethinker
Bulldozed the great rock
Against those false morals
And put up a philosophical defence
To release the human mind
From the shackles of centuries
Of directional misguidance
They- with inspired confidence
And (one might say)
Controlled reflex
Drew a smile as from a catalogue
Oh there was life in that smile
And leaning on the years
Found intellectual companionship
In makeshift ingenuity
He battled selfishly
Against those callous endearments
And sentimental mountebank sporting
Not on musical instruments
But on people’s obnoxious egotism…
You might think
This anonymous sage
Earned a medal:
There were demonstrations of affection
Tempered with epileptic passion
And resistant impulse
But his social corpse
Could not be sustained by precedent
And was soon ousted
By those immortal phrases
About humane civilization
His roving energetic mind
Pregnant with unexpressed thought
All those volumes of memory
Delineated by consternation-
Withdrew from mother’s apprenticeship
Into mazy fairylands
To spend eternity.
Categories:
mazy, introspection, prejudice,
Form:
Free verse
When darkness falls on the fortunes of men
And dark clouds of shame gather about their brows
There're stars that rise deep in their eyes.
There they stand frozen
Beaming forth a message
For the shepherd of men to seek and read.
By these stars he divines their sorest need
And by them he navigates to lofty thrones,
Carrying his broken flock to golden hills
Willed by Heaven as their dwelling place.
There's a new leader come in America
That found his way to the White House
Following the twinkle of these stars
That like the flash of beacons
Did bid him to the right turns on the mazy path to power:
Here to the right, there to the right again;
Further down the road to the right once more
And thence to glory.
By his triumph, the story of Moses in Hillary unfolded:
His sour fate she came to share.
The glass ceiling she struck with her golden staff
And like the Red Sea at once it parted.
Through it she set off on her long march
To the Promised Office across the desert.
But soon she tripped on her dozen faults
To be condemned by grieving Heaven
To see, to approach, the Promised Office
But never once to reach it.
Categories:
mazy, leadership,
Form:
Free verse
They surrendered to Virtue all they had, tears
They gained from society( 'twas all they yearned for) tranquility
They sang songs so serene:-
"Oh, blessed is the shunner of all forms of evil!"
And perched on tower-tops
While the city went out and commenced
Jumping walls topped by sharp-edged-jagged pieces of china and glass
Door-breaking and stuttering rifles.
In eloquent gestures and mazy motions,
They recited poems pregnant with emotions:-
"It took yesterday's madmen to
Build a better today
One cannot make a fundamental change
Without a certain degree of madness!"
While corrupt preachers, politicians, policy-makers
Reiterated their usual rhetoric.
The rhytms and rhymes of political ruthlessness
They painted pictures so loud:
Black guns circled and crossed in red.
They stuck the paintings on hospital walls,
Schools, churches, playgrounds and market stalls.
Patients, nurses and prechers
Vendors, doctors and teachers
Were awe-struck as the questioned, "Who are they?"
I whispered, "Youths, to Vice and to Crime Unknown."
Their soles maimed sinuously the city tarmac
Their voices pierced the polluted atmosphere
Their banner sang volumes:-
"USE COMMON SENSE NOT CRIMINAL SENSE!"
While the peace saboteurs used violence as a tool
To keep the elite few
In top rule
Shunning majority rule
And treating the majority as one fool.
Thus, at Africa Unity Square
The march on Harare ended sincere.
Huge was their number, and their agenda clear
One of them whistled a tune
It lasted till noon.
Then I heard a whispering pulse
In my ear
A whispering pulse
Of evil eroded clear,
"Youths, to Vice and to Crime Unknown."
Categories:
mazy, peace, city,
Form:
Blank verse
spring melts into summer’s light
proving wrong that still despair,
chilled in winter’s heart,
has corroded to the marrow
for even poppies bloom
in broken fields and shell holes
bones blanketed in shrouds of moss
trill of larks cross no man’s land
as pollen floats out lazy over fields
fuzzed with sprouts and turned earth
windblossoms mazy crisscrossed
blown like crimson tracers
cicadas drone their symphonies
calling humid waves
warping off fields like sultry wraiths
moaning at dead eyed cocks on broken weathervanes
cats, lazy from the heat,
retreat to hidden nooks
détente with bird and squirrel
water oaths held dear
water ripples on silent streams
tracing gusts like a rolling barrage of cotton ingots
heavy with odors of stratosphere, of faraway places
tearing at the heart’s windsock
wet bulb heat folded in cumulous
divebombed by nectar laden bees
crazy for the blossoms
soaked and sultry queenright days
a story, sad songs
decibels rung in high towers
echelons above reality
sung to tone deaf and dusty gods
skies clear of dark storm crows
now becoming past
soon becoming now
then slides to never
as photographs fade
at times it’s too much
this heady weight of others
moments like whispers gone
while standing windburnt on hillsides
barren and mass wasted
somewhere distant wardrums beat
our racial folie à deux...
Categories:
mazy, memory, war,
Form:
Prose Poetry