Best Mournfully Poems
Screaming at the Sky
Mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky
holding their heads helplessly as they cry
pitiful tears for innocent, defenseless children slaughtered
in fatal cross fires, deadly drug wars
drive-by shootings, and cases of mistaken identity
on blood-splattered streets, senseless endless violence; but
who really gives a damn, only grief-stricken
mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky.
(Form – Enjambment posted as Verse – 8 lines with 7 words in each line.
The 1st line and the 8th line are the same)
10-21-2014
Contest: 8 Lines 7 words ~ First and Last Line Must be the Same
Sponsor: Rick Parise
Placement: 2nd
Categories:
mournfully, children, drug, grief, hurt,
Form:
Verse
Place parsed pennies, purposely upon pretty porcelain palms.
The wanderer, restrained her raised ranting wrists!
She fell to her Humpty Dumpty position,
unable to ever be put back together again...
Each of us witnessed her fall,
yet we failed to gather those colourful leaves.
I believe we could have laid them at the base of her wall.
She sees the trees as he increases her diseases.
Deepening predatory penetrations as he pleases!
Cracking, fracking, hating, taking, and breaking.
Bringing about disappearing, as pain stains, her shamed awakening!
If we could have, would we have, mournfully watched?
Or instead, would we have held her wrists,
pulled at reddened panties, excruciated her sufferings?
Instead, we placated horrific tugged observations,
waited, pretended to see nothing,
drank our mocha-chino from starry cups!
we sat and licked our lips to the calming sound of muzak,
preferring voyeuristic aristocracy.
Oh how she cursed his kissing and biting,
the sucking of her Texan black gold!
All the while he praised her caged loins,
filling a billion barrels with her oil...
Until the time her flame set fire to his cursed wanting!
Until she summoned the winds from the east.
It was time to birth the spawn of his treachery.
Lava poured forth from mountainous risings!
He must suckle upon her displeasure,
until like creosol, his noxious presence,
combines with his own wasted wood.
Thus preserving his monumental failures,
encasing them within layers of his strangled death!
A voice called out from the West, "Where is the foolish man?
Who is left to sing about his great accomplishments?
His peculiar monuments have been laid to waste,
not a single brick remains in it's place."
No one is left to excavate the woeful forgotten.
She "Mother" seeps into the soil to reclaim his blood,
her womb is once again fertile.
She asks "Do we wish to begin again?"
The start of a great pause stings her ears!
She looks and understands,
"It is no longer good.”
Categories:
mournfully, abuse, anxiety,
Form:
Narrative
I've written of great longing while my teardrops flare
Rhyming lines of sorrow that were nested in my mind
Tomes of poetry that exposed the depth of my despair
Now, my heart lies withered; to its fate I am resigned.
My sonnets are all testaments to the love, now haunted,
decaying on yellowed pages, they make my heart bleed.
It languishes with pitiful sighs, ignored and unwanted
like my dust-laden poetry that I will never again read.
Verses were woven tapestries, a lovingly stitched story,
Remnants of us left threadbare, colors dull and faded.
Time cannot repair moldered love to it's former glory.
Ours lies buried in a grave; rotting because it's jaded.
Love spills its final drop as I gasp for another breath.
From this mortal wound, my afflicted soul is bereaving.
I've one last poem to pen, in refrain before my death
about the broken part of me, still mournfully grieving.
September 22, 2020
Quatrain Writing Challenge - Decay
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Categories:
mournfully, lost love,
Form:
Quatrain
Tears rolling down the cheeks
mournfully sighs
falling in a deep lingering thought
Whispering inside silently
I lay a sheepskin rug of purest white
upon the ground for you
love me not ,want me not
cause your heart I don't deserve
The dripping honey from your moon
cannot preserve the smile
behind my pale pearled tears
If I could reach up
grabbing the moon smiling
confetti stars sprinkling them
all over you sweetly
If only by magic
Nor the diamond dust
from your confetti stars
can bring a twinkle to these eyes
These eyes were baptised
with too many holy lies
to ever be disguised
A soulful howl
yearning salted lips
cherishing you babe
within every single teardrop
that falls in your honor
enchanting rising waves kissing
each curl embracing fragrant beauty
I'd rather let my spirit free
to roam in fabled wonders
that always end ' let not love be'
I'd rather gaze in a nocturnal sky
with no one holding me
Cause I have loved with all I am and be
To be betrayed,to be deceived
to be the clown of gaia's destiny
and now not you or any other,no one my dear
No one will set me free
written by Liam and Charmaine
Categories:
mournfully, devotion, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
November comes down gliding on filmy wings,
Bringing cool and dank days on her way
Sweet it is to watch the spectacular changes she brings
In a medley of colors, plants and trees proudly stay
Earth puts on a finery no other season can beat
In glinting flashes, the land and sky look so bright
The delectable pumpkin pie is the season’s favorite treat
As the day advances sunbeams fall in sparks of light
.
Early mornings come covered in snowy mist
Soon leaves nose dive and mournfully weep
The fallen leaves tremulously cry under our feet
As their last goodbye before they finally fall asleep
Evenings turn colorful with sinking sunlight, bleeding red
Squirrels chatter noisily as they gather nuts in the wild
As autumn tightens its grip, men retire early to bed
Wind blows all through the month with a temper mild
Soon the air turns chilly with blizzards coming in a row
And winter waits impatient for its icy-cold embrace.
The land will then be covered in a maze of snow.
Even the last flower shall fall and fade from earth’s face
The fallen dead leaves lying in piles and rotting away
And the sound of wind whistling the dirge of November
Bring to me the thought that we must all take leave one day
Down on earth, fall and rot, thus be fodder for new life ever!
Nov.13.2022
~ Placed First~
November or December Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
mournfully, angst, autumn, beautiful, time,
Form:
Quatrain
With September’s tenure over, October takes charge.
Leaves turn yellow, red, and ochre in colourful surge.
As autumn breeze strongly veers round and blows,
Leaves fall and lie in heaps, rows upon rows.
They go into the making of autumn’s mosaic quilt.
Before they, under our feet, mournfully wilt,
Autumn leaves float and fly like flowers,
Twirling and whirling in the air on breezy hours.
As the air grows crisp and cold day by day,
Autumn is all set to have its powerful sway.
Birds by the riverside one by one will fly away,
Fearing the golden autumn days will never stay.
With so much of beauty and variety in the trees
And an endearing whisper in the blowing breeze,
Autumn is the one season I wholeheartedly hail,
And wish to breathe its air as my last inhale.
Categories:
mournfully, autumn, color, tree,
Form:
Rhyme
Enjoy the silence, the deep of night.
Not true silence for the word itself is illusion.
Still yourself enough to hear.
Listen for the sounds invoked in the darkness.
Quiet yourself from the inside-out
to perceive more.
The insights revealed during such muted moments
slow us, granting peace and serenity.
Night is a living entity brimming
with sound and industry.
Work, machine, wheel and gear.
A train's low grumbling engine. Its doleful
horn carried mournfully on humid summer air.
The machinery of life resonates. Those working
graveyard hours commute, clock-in, labor.
The stark trumpeting of a siren carries
over the numbed ears of a slumbering city.
A harsh, grating street sweeper toils
joined by the ghosts of twilight
on hushed, shadow-laden avenues.
Voices, song, and music in the night.
Crickets saw a faux-string melody.
Leaves rustle, sweep, and dance
a quiescent refrain on puffs of easy air.
There are drums on the silence as
approaching clouds roll with thunder.
Rains follow.
The timbre of water bubbling upon earth,
rooftop, and walkway.
A great horned owl takes flight.
Its wings "whip, whip, whip," as it directs
the late night aria.
Savor this appealing chorus of sounds
as an all familiar nocturne.
The sounds of silence enrich and help
make tranquil the human heart.
Being part of its lyric, we are calmed
by nature's chorus.
Even the weighty rumble and earsplitting
rasp of thunder can soothe the heart at night.
We are a part of the sound and silence always,
and in all ways.
Sounds in Silence
Free Verse
Categories:
mournfully, nature, solitude, sound,
Form:
Free verse
~Winter~
(Haiku suite)
Winters approaching
autumn mournfully whispers
leaves on ground whither
Squirrels run, stock food
the trees starting to get bared
weather gets more cold
Snow will be falling
kids will make snowmen, snowballs
time to wear a coat.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
November.15.2015
Categories:
mournfully, beautiful, december, snow, winter,
Form:
Free verse
I think I'll open a tragedy club
where people can come to weep
I'll tell the saddest stories around
admission will be cheap
I'll call the venue Tragic Relief
where heartache is the norm
and "open mike night" amateurs
can mournfully perform
To be a standup tragedian
has been a lifelong dream
No longer caring to cry alone
I might even form a team
We'll bill ourselves as "Wailing & Tears"
and tour throughout the land
We'll have them bawling in the aisles
til they can hardly stand
They'll cry a mighty river
at our films from year to year
We'll throw in fresh cut onions
just to wring out every tear
Appearing at my club some time
to do a special show
the hottest new tragedians
will tell their tales of woe
No matter if your background is
from denim or fine silk
we'll gather round and cry all over
puddles of spilled milk
So take a break and come on down
and turn your joy to grief
Just keep your eyes peeled for the sign
that says Tragic Relief
Categories:
mournfully, dark, humor, irony, nonsense,
Form:
Rhyme
Snuggled cosily in a blanket of love
Eyes tightly shut, listening to above
Where the robin chirps his merry song
Guarding his garden from the throng
I hummm a merry tune
Strings of violins pass through my mind
Mournfully and sad .....as if to remind
me of days of yore when love was great
How did that feeling turn to hate
I hummm a soulful tune
Sun is setting here to shine elsewhere
Reminds me of how I still care
for life, for love ...it's music fills my soul
I close my eyes to slumber, to recall,
hummming a sleepy tune
Penned 12/03/18
Contest : Lullaby in the sunset run by Vermilion Scythe
Categories:
mournfully, song, sunset, , Lullaby,
Form:
Lyric
January’s snow flows stealthfully through my fifth-floor apartment window, flung wide open to welcome in the new year. The half-drawn curtains bellow with brisk salt air blowing in from the North Sea. A distant foghorn groans in a resigned, forlorn resonance, guiding ships braving the churning, ice-slushy waters as church bells strike twelve stately brassy tones.
This night I stand alone and content, a rich cup of espresso in my hand. Eschewing nostalgia and perhaps too sober of thought, I prefer my pleasures to be of the vicarious variety. Beneath me I take in the muted ambers and oranges spread out from the four cafes, out past the cobblestone road, glistening as snowflakes alite. Young couples drinking, glasses clinking, hug, kiss and revel, strolling out from the cafes. Some indulge in a traditional waltz, before the speaker blares more modern fare. Waves of laughter and singing ebb and flow as I turn and head toward my bed and blessed sleep.
Again the foghorn blares mournfully, like a tuba vainly pleading to be united with a long-lost orchestra.
Categories:
mournfully, character, perspective,
Form:
Prose
My mind freezes as a birdbath
on a chill winter night,
It cracks like glass, soon dissolves
in sun-drenching midday light.
A thought of my winter parting
completely clouds my sight,
Like morning-frosted window's veil
gives an obstructed view,
I can't hear songbirds in winter
or feel me without you.
Freezing wind blows mournfully
through our lives without regard
for time lost, love's tender touch
or beatings of one's heart.
Cold and chill of midwinter
render leaving slow to start.
Anguished hearts as whipping snow
color life hard to see.
Songbirds fly late fall,
winter will be time to die for me.
I can feel a snow before it falls.
I smell it as in a breeze.
I know the North wind blows
after a turning of loose leaves.
Like slow leaving of songbirds,
a tossing of dead weeds,
I sense well signs of winter;
she seeks her strength this year.
When snow is gone, flowers bloom,
please shed for me a tear.
Place my grave atop our hill
on a shaded plot of ground.
Do not cry for me my dear
until springtime rolls around.
Songbirds will sing me hymns
as springs sweetest sound.
A fortunate man I have been
to have loved you for so long,
Remember, I still love you
as you hear a songbird's song.
Categories:
mournfully, lost love, me, winter,
Form:
Rhyme
lonely shadows fly like phantoms
sodium arc lights sickly yellow
the pallor of puss; an old mans bellow
the young rages for parents they never had them
the quiet cold of ebony rain
sepia toned photo seeking remembrance
young old women with too much experience
raspberry lip gloss she's homeless but vain
tenement skyline
lighthouse for the lost
children at sea
drowning in a ocean of humanity disdained
the writings on the wall
dope fiends in the hall
penitentiary collect calls
to grandma who accepts them all
mournfully I hear Marvin Gaye
"brother, brother, brother there are far too many of you dying"
lying in bed silently crying
"we got to find a better way here today"
Categories:
mournfully, introspectionold, old,
Form:
Rhyme
~ the nameless ebony bird sings so mournfully -
the wind lifts your wings ~
poet's quote
A gaping hole in the ground
No tombstone or roses
White painted tiny coffin
angelic hands in prayer
A simple metal plate
with a number
No tolerance for fake tears
Justice must be a promise
Newborn child with the right to life
left under a bridge, naked
wrapped in a dirty plastic bag
The child didn't have a chance
in twenty-three minus degrees
A mother and father
abandoned his responsibility
their horrible secret
remains a dark shadow
Categories:
mournfully, birth, child, death, sad,
Form:
Free verse
Life was the wing that gave them flight
as they soared ever so high
now death is the darkness of their plight
where the wind mournfully sighs
Dry bones bound by eternity's chain
rest serenely 'neath tall shade trees
where dreams have decayed with the leafy debris
and silence is all that remains
Headstones stand as sentinels
Along the tree lined path
Sadness clings to the overgrown vines
in the timeless aftermath
Within the muted reverence of this place
the overgrown vines seem to speak
with a voice that will oft embrace
the departed souls mystique
When one sentinel falls
the others will stand tall
Whispering secrets to the great beyond
as the vines slowly crawl
~~~
9/30/16
Contest Name: Overgrown With Vines
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Categories:
mournfully, death,
Form:
Rhyme