Best Monument Poems
The sultry jungle steams its vapid breath
Choking and drowning with humid hate
Life crawls and scurries struggling to and fro
A pyramid of roughly hewn green block rises
A stunning mountain out of place
Creeping vines grasp and control
Embracing greedily everything within reach
Serpents dance in the obscuring shadows
While human bones decay on piles of gold
Sacrifices to hungry elder gods
Feeding their ravenous needs
Imagined by fearful fools and priests
Etherial mist enshrouds minds
Looking into the starlit night
To find the piercing light of truth
Cold and alone, death goes unanswered
Forgotten but here
Remembered yet never there
Why do you exist?
Built with the sweat and blood of slaves,
the Colosseum is a monument of greatness
to testify the glorious might of Rome...
in the arena, chariots fights were awesome!
Romans cherished the stately structure to escape boredom,
but death lurked above as gladiators heard loud cheer
and sharpened their swords hoping to get priceless freedom;
Emperor Vespasian only envisioned glory, not deadly fear!
Who didn't like the gladiators combats?
Everybody was happy as bread was eaten...
a free gift from emperors to all citizens;
oh, they cheered when one of them went down!
Nero was one of the fairest and maddest emperors,
he also enjoyed the games held in the Colosseum
and ordered the slaughtering of innocent Christians;
didn't he falsely blame them for burning Rome?
Today, the Colosseum stands as a testimony of a great western civilization
that endured for over four hundred years allowing change and assimilation;
wasn't it exciting living in the capital of the ancient world and shout, " Hail, Caesar! "
while rubbing shoulders with the common people who adored his crown and scepter?
a crystal fountain
iced water by cold weather
commemoration
Nigh on ninescore year hae I
Preside o'er thaes city faer
But i' shoundna be me on thaes stule
In Mad King Gaerge's Squaer
In life a saemple claerk o' law
Who frae Edinburrah hael
'nd 's kent tae woo thae lasses
Wi' an auld ramaentic tael
Naw I set upon mae paerch
'nd watch Glaswegians pass
'nd time again mae eye doth fix
Upon a bonny lass
Thaer be but one wee aeggravation
I 'ud gladly tae shed
Faer I'ud rathaer dae wi'out
Thae seagael on mae haed
August 25, 2017
He died with his money on;
In soft gardens where wealth
Is spent on stone reminders
For rotting bodies, he lies.
The elm and cedar bend with winds
Over nature's debt delayed.
A weathered angel stands
Leaning cold benediction.
Her outstretched hand
Has missing fingers.
Her pensive smile
Is wry with chinks.
Near his grave she daily wears away--
Dumb wonder to the children
Who gave her a necklace
Of green leaves.
I sit in the sand
With my knees in my hands
Just staring out at the sea
Contemplating
The meaning of life
And maybe the meaning of me
For all that I've done
And all that I've won
Is that the meaning of life
To live and to build
To follow the guild
With a family and a wife
I picked up some wood
And then as I stood
I swirled it around in the sand
I drew up a picture
A plan for a fixture
Then gathered some sand in my hand
I mounded and moulded
I creased and I folded
I piled the grains way up high
I cut and I sliced
I poked and I diced
Then held out my thumb for my eye
I sculpted some turrets
Then planted some pennants
With the seaweed that lay all around
I marveled at how
My hands could endow
Such a sculpture upon sandy ground
I returned to my place
And sat in my space
Where I wrote this poetic gem
As the waves crashed ashore
I thought about more
And how poetry is my Zen
I can model some clay
Then write troubles away
All with the use of my hands.
I can also defer
To the grounds by the shore
And build castles out of the sands
Rockman :-)
Written for the contest by Gail Doyle, "Sandcastles By The Seashore".
(1 Kings 8: 27)
I Would Build YOU Seven Pillars
Made of Pearls of Such Dimension- Prized
I Would Build YOU Ten Giant Columns
Made of Pure Crystals Up To The Skies
And On That Holy Edifice
of 400 Cubits Elevated To Size
I Would Build YOU A Thunder-Temple
A Thousand Stories High
This Would Be My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...
And Inside The Thunder-Temple
I Would Build A Lightning-Fire
It Would Burn A Flame of Love So Hot & Bright
That Lasts Forever & Never Die
I Would Place YOUR Name On A Pedestal Throne
of Precious Gems - No One Could Pry
Of Such Height & Depth & Length
& Everlasting Arms Wide
This Is My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...
O' My Rock of Ages ... Because YOU Are My Strength
& My Fondest & Most Fervent of Ties
I Would Construct This On A Mountain Top
That Stands Up Past A Million Miles
It Would Touch The Moon In Reflection
And The Stars Would Be Inspired
and Eclipse Every Man-Made Structure
& Orbit In YOUR Eyes
This Is My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...
I Would Fill The Air With Perfumed Prayer
Celestial, Sparkled-Incense Would Rise
I Would Fill The Space With Music
& Exalt HALLELUJAH In Chimes!
I Would Bow Down In YOUR Beauteous Presence
In The Aisles & Among All Tribes
& Exult In The Awesome Atmosphere
of YOUR Essence So Wise
... In My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...
I Would Fill It With All YOUR Worshipers
& All YOUR Wonders & Praise Realized
& We'd Sing My Metaphysical Monument
In Paradise ... To JAH !
This Is My Metaphysical Monument
And Yes, This Vision Is Heaven-Sent
Spirit-Height & Depth & Width & Length
In My Whole-Soul, Solar-Sacrament
& My Devotion's Endless Measurements
Built From A Bonafide & Blessed Blueprint
Constructed Thru Carpenter's Consent
& With The Master-Worker's Instruments
It Will Tower-Up In Testament !
So All Will Know - Everywhere I Went
It's The Metaphysical Monument
My HalleluJah - Horizon-Event!
... My Metaphysical Monument ... To JAH
Written & Copyrighted ©: 9/27/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
Lurking amongst shabby, impenetrable, undergrowth,
cloistered effigy is sheltered from casual view,
languishing, neglected, forgotten... but content.
No longer possessing a name; no longer serving a purpose;
whatever inscription once etched thereupon is
long-since faded, lost to the whimsical wisps of time.
In bygone years, its bronze cheeks would be flushed;
embarrassed, apologetic even, for its very existence.
Wriggled under the weight of myriad strangers' eyes,
recoiled from attempts to elicit illicit secrets,
perennial trepidation of exposure to ridicule.
But that was in the past... before the truth was embraced.
It can no more alter who it is than it can deter
the sun from setting, dissuade the tides from rising
or discourage the Earth from spinning on its axis.
And it has no wish to do so.
Feathered vermin perched atop its head defecate,
careless and carefree, contributing to the
guano collage caked on its carved countenance;
the similitude is not lost on it.
So it sits... silent and unobtrusive; stoic but stalwart:
the epitome of art imitating life imitating art.
Languishing, neglected, forgotten... but content.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Written 1 September 2017
Entered in "A Poem I Wrote and Sent Drifting" Contest, sponsored by Broken Wings (judged 11 October 2017).
(7th Place)
Originally for "Artwork" Contest (judged 6 September 2017)
In the chilled space of time,
There she stood—unperturbed;
There she stood, cold and motionless
As if a victim of death, but not dead;
There she stoically stood—challenging
All of nature; even man himself—daring.
There she stood—leafless—her tall skeleton
Piercing the sky as if a monument to her life
And being—a naked statue with arms spread wide.
If her imaging could speak, standing there, she
Would probably say: “Joy not; mourn not…I shall return;
I shall return in all the beauty and fullness of my being.”
There she stood, gloriously rooted—nature’s most profound
Teaching symbol of the essence of life, death and resurrection—
Indeed, what could be more representative than a wintered tree!
Awareness drifts in a pool of sinew, flesh, fat, muscle, cartilage, hair, nail, bone, sodden skin, fluid, bile, excrement, blood, swirling in the maelstrom; in its belly thought.
Clarity forgotten, dissolved, flushed down the drain without Mercy.
Bon Secours,
Bon Voyage.
©dbyrne June 2014
Whatever our bodies could have done
If only, there was, little less of poison
The hoardings’ screaming. Loud
Drinking Coke was in. In fashion
We sprayed aerosols in airs
Filled our bellies with alcohol
Artificial lights of late nights
Food sprayed with chemicals
Such a divine vehicle is the body
We compared it, to an automobile
Vehicles designed aerodynamically
Curves compared to breasts & thighs
Foods. Airs. Thoughts. Limbs and sinews
Creativity. Minds. Expressions. Discoveries
We tread this ground. This wonderful earth
The body is the means. Will not last forever
In the limited time there’s a lot to discover
May there be less poison, more laughter
'There is enough for the need of every
Not enough to fill greed of just one'
A prayer, to heal. Time to recover
We trust. World is getting better
.
Fear has a new form. It is in air
Fear of death is lurking in the air
Remember the air is just a carrier
The air is untouched, a pure element
Air carries, untouched by foul or fragrance
Airless none survives, airs must touch all elements
Our minds have the nature of air, the airs we exchange
Our surroundings, airs, fears, words that foul or are healing
Recall, mind has nature of air, the closest airs we are inhaling
Think pure pristine breathe easy all and every being, blessed Be
Flow as air words. Pause. Rise. Carry all the essence unburdened
Twigs, particles, dust, fragrance, tears, joys’, hopes, ambitions
Touch all, penetrate, all beings, plants, animals, fires, water
Ether, music, space, light, particles, rainbows, scents
There is Not a life that You the Air do not sustain
Forgetful us, we never built a Monument to Air.
She is deaf
He is blind
An aged couple
Now, neglected
And abandoned by
Their ‘’KIDS’’
She sees for him
He listens for him
Beggars are they now
Just for living
A living monument
For love and negligence
Hero’s monument
well-known historic setting
the park’s attraction -
a new edifice looms high
an eyesore in the backdrop
14 April 2018
Just as the pyramids are famous cones
And dinosaurs are famous bones
Just as diamond are famous stones
We shall live forever as famous skeletons
Death is never far
It’s a closer than the closest star
It’s a short trip down to the spar
More tangible than a foetus in a jar
Just as a plastic surgeon knows a nose
The lie of a high of an accidental overdose
Just as a heatbeat echoes a pulse
Death's dilemma lies in a comatose
Just as an anointed king to the throne
Lives forever like a nuclear powered drone
It’s the size of blood clot in a vein
A monument is death to a famous icon