Best Moan Poems
She wept as they buried her one true love.
Each day thereafter she brought him a rose,
the flower she knew he was fondest of.
Her grief unbearable, beyond repose.
What pain and suffering his death bestows.
Nothing prevented her daily visit.
She didn't want him to feel all alone.
When beside him her face was exquisite.
When weary she would sigh and then lay prone,
weeping for her love in soft languished moan.
There, in restless sleep, flames of love still burned
'til the twilight hour, when she felt a chill
as the gentle warmth of sunlight adjourned.
She heard a dove singing a mourning trill,
begetting heartache's tears to flow and spill.
November 3, 2022 ~ 2022 Marathon Mile 19 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Originally written on 23rd of July 2016
Three Stanzas of English Quintain, 10 syllables per line
with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-b
I am your inked inamorata,
enamored and heaven-drunk,
sipping courtly creed
from the chrysalis chalice
of what love could unleash ~
as the heart heeds what’s unsaid
when stellar heat waves
thunder in sync with lightning,
still musing with
the monotony of muted music…
It was never the radiant rhythm
of romanticized rhymes
that pulled me,
but the arcane gaze
of your trip-uh-licious alchemy,
the ice-flame blues of
a draconian dreamer,
still intriguing this
intuitive incandescence
like a dangerous desperado
sailing me to an ocean of devotion.
O primal paramour,
purify this pained pulse,
heal the hurting nocturnal Helios
amidst your eyes that roam,
reaching for the rhinestone flickers,
blind to this burn.
While your hallowed hands
unknot the sky, wedded
to the thrilling threads
of my mourning moon,
calm your vagabond psyche
and listen to the evocative voice
of my unwavering verses ~
veiled in vermilion,
within the purged pages
enveloped in sand-soaked silk.
There you will hear
the black-cat moan
footprints of faithful fervency,
the lifelines of loyal luminescence,
clawed to compassion
generously giving,
serving the aromatic air
that carries your mystical musk ~
So let the ghost awake,
let the forgotten rise again.
Watch the wickedness unweave
the faults of an untamable warrior.
Are you satisfied being
vehemently investigated
by an emotionally intense telescope,
holding you viciously
to the lethal lens of feral ferocity?
Here comes the grace-giver.
I am born to dominantly bestow…
I
As some on God's good Earth
Arise at a new dawn, I'm grateful
Even to talk with friends I haven't met
Joe called them "myself," & on the internet
II
I say God Morning, for so many reasons
One: God adds another 'o' to make GOOD
I say Our Father (Holy is Thy name) prayer
Two: Start positive! Prefer mood of gratitude
III
In ones sixties, one oft gets up in pain
I thank my Savior, its but a little cross
I bear nothing compared to His! I gain
What Adam lost: If I pray, I won't complain
(Maybe just one of each, later, a moan & a groan!)
the day we wed
a tear I shed
and said "love you"
with love true blue
I had my life
to be your wife
we had such joy
when we heard boy
a boy in me
we would soon see
god had a plan
for our boy stan
born dead and still
it was god's will
we heard those words
with songs of birds
our boy was dead
you hung your head
I lost you then
but I found zen
you were so sad
not to be dad
each day was worse
soon in a hearse
we could not talk
you would just walk
thoughts in your head
my poor heart bled
you drove too fast
the road was glassed
dear, did you moan
my name- when thrown
_______________________
January 30, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/did you moan my name
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9873-51-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, 128 Words
sponsor, Silent One
Second Place
I am in love with the moon
but pledge to abhor this night
as I sleep on a poignant pillow~
soaked with the perfumes
of forlorn lilies and
half-written farewells...
drizzling from these ashen eyes
are the pensive dreams,
that refused to recede
from the shore of my aching soul...
perhaps, the black cat moan
was meant to mourn
the death of the disguised devil,
but I let it burn,
dear reaper ~
and those evil-epitaph trinkets
kept twinkling with
their treacherous teeth
that ripped my silhouette apart
like a samurai lost
in the deserted oblivion
of onyx-fuelled fantasies
and slashed seams of sighs ...
so, let us stargaze
beyond those blazing blisters
and weep with the chrysalis comets
that left me wearing
a garland of golden cocoons
and until death do us part,
I'll meet you in camellia valleys
worn, weathered and withering ~
like a sharp flower
slit with the silent sword of sunless spice,
walking on the web of woeful wishes,
asking the scorched sky
to hold my inkless insecurities,
and let me be
high on hemlock honey,
one last time...
because all those years,
I remained feverish
with your shaking schemes
that withheld bleeding blames
and in the flame
of faltering mistakes,
I confess to the sienna letters
lamenting in salted sands,
searing with your
far-sailing scents
that I only lived to love you,
O' darling...
the ghost of me.
Disembodied howls
Tunneling through the black night
My soul begs to rest
August 2014
© All Rights Reserved
Watching the sequence of sound coming out of your mouth...
But the screaming is too loud.
I can speak,
But my brain doesn't want to.
I closed the door.
Silence called for me.
Should I cry or should I run after her?
What have I done to you?
but love you uncontrollably.
Shes then left speechless.
It looks like shes out of breath,
but really I broke her.
She was fragile.
So innocent.
Run, Just run.
A gun raised..
up to her mouth.
And a taint on her heart.
Take me back
My soul's time has come
Take me back
Youth I long
My old soul is close to death
Scared now-take me back
( This poem is written in a Shadoma format which isn't listed in the drop box choices)
We went on a day trip to Gozo
Just one look at her and I thought ‘oh no’
Her hubby was so meek and mild
She talked to him just like a child
She whined when she got on the bus
This was wrong, that was wrong – what a fuss
All she could do was moan
I wish she’d stayed at home
She continued to moan with no stopping
She didn’t want tourist attractions – only shopping
Her husband he did what he was told
He was young but looked haggard and old
We got off the bus so see an attraction
But she said ‘No Way! I want shopping action’
She finally got some time for her wish
She bought a glass vase and a dish
She also purchased an umbrella
Then started going on about the weather
She spotted a shop sign that said SALE
When she found it was closed she went pale
I gave her hubby a ‘knowing smile’
Guess he’d lived with it a long while
Jan Allison
3rd November 2014
prone
alone
so lonely
solely for him
pained pale limping heart
our love now quit
no visit
no phone
moan
Old age hasn't turned out the way I imagined
Thought I'd be surrounded by young fillies, what happened?
In the old folks home
They just babble and moan
Instead of “ride 'em cowboy” methinks they've come unfastened
You are gagged and bound, seated
In a hot seat among the hard of hearing
Harrowing tales from the trenches
At the deep end of a ravenous beast
A narrowing outlook, hope fading
Shape shifting fiends on the cliffs of sleep
Captured drifts shaping up to squeeze
Harassed by the wail of the haunt
You cry within reach of eardrums
Albeit all wearing earplugs
Wallowing, itching skin turning sallow
You are reminded of the sordid detail
The devil in it too hard to swallow
You reckon it's the lunch in your throat
That crouching shifting restless toad
You are not alone but on your own
Roasting in the heat of your moaning
Voice within a crowd of voices making noises
Choir of soloists, yet never about choices
You were placed where you were placed
In a furnace of dreams from dusk till dawn
Never warned that you were in for the duration
Butterflies
I sent her an email with butterflies attached, I was hoping she'd open it, her heart would I snatch.
It was ten past four when she read it-after quite a very long day.
They flew out at once with one click of that mouse,
So many included they filled her whole house.
Next, I decided to send her- a very large enveloped batched-
with seeds from deep in my garden-where lies all the weeds and piles of thatch.
She went to her mailbox and saw it was from me,
a smile she flashed, just as quick as could be.
She hurriedly ripped it open
to see just what was inside, she spilled out all of its contents
she poured it out in her hands,
as those butterflies flew -and filled up the whole sky.
Now I gave her a bottle- a message inside-
"now that I've finally found you, please no longer hide"
"I thought of You, quite often, as my life-it has passed. "I felt all my breath leave me- all in one single gasp.
"I - so long ago-just was not the right guy. I lacked life and the smarts to give you---
my truly best try."
"I've found you again, lost you- so long ago.
I've learned most of my lessons, Please give me a go."
I understand about love hurting you so..
I'm no longer the guy from so long ago...
I know your untrusting and you've a hard row to hoe..
I know that around you ...some speed bumps may grow.
But I work with strong hands and I'll pull you in tow.
I wait for return mail...be it- in letter or post...I wait and I wonder
and I watch as my mail person walks by..
and look to the sky where butterflies fly.....
R.Moan Jr
aah…
you say
a tensed note
almost unheard
but in that one moan
time comes to a standstill
for rapture forgets the past
needs no future to give it hope
it simply is, expands, fills, abducts
takes us to an edgeless place and beyond
In Gory Red Haze, Brave Men Weep And Moan
Blast your trumpets, on blood soaked ground!
In that red haze, brave men weep and moan,
Yet, brutal war echoes pain in every sound.
Down lay spirits of mortal men forever gone
Days of youthful hopes turned to patches of dust,
dirt covered , forever residing all alone
fool's gold now turned to blackened rust.
Look ye, for a reason for fools to fight and die
sing out to duty , duty of warriors bold
remain aloft, blind to widows left to cry.
Price matters not, heroes destined to never grow old
War, testament to courage and man's great folly
sacrifice, death feeding tales retold
life goes on, this world is quite jolly
War, the engine driving men straight into hell
For breakfast and eggs, must first break the shell!
Robert J. Lindley, 05-07-2015