Best Naves Poems


Premium Member By Now You Have Forgot' - To Whom It May Concern - Part 2

Continued from Part 1

               “Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
               You horded thirty silver pieces, downed a whiskey shot,
               Then crossed yourself and wrapped yourself in furs of ocelots,
               And danced on cleated cloven hoofs in purple polka-dots,
               Then drank His blood from chalice cups with pious afterthoughts.
 
               “You’ve treated men like mongrels chained, like little flies to swat,
               By doing what you wanted to, instead of what you aught;
               You’ve wiped your nose with dollar bills and paid your serfs with snot,
               But when you’ve paused to preen your pride, you’ve scrubbed a scarlet blot.
 
               “In ashes of our victories: the diamonds that you sought,
               The crock of gold, the Golden fleece of bogus Argonauts -
               In mirrors of your lifelessness, the evils you begot.
              
               “The haunted winds strew leaves of time across a shallow plot
               Where now, beneath the frozen stones blanched bodies bathe in rot,
               Disintegrate, return to dust to feed Forget-Me-Nots
               Amidst the bane and pits of pain where broken bones lie caught.
 
               “In fields above the catacombs and tombs of Camelot
               The black and withered tree of Death arises from the spot
               Where oft beneath a bleeding moon you hid your gold in pots
               Embedding doubts neath barren bogs where roots of wormwood squat.
 
               “While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
               From branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
               Your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
               With dangling pearls and diamond studs mid dripping crimson clots
               And gaping wounds with bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
               For wrapped in chains around your throat, the Reaper’s grim garrote.”
 
Yes, that’s the fate of all your kind, disclosed by Wise Men taught.
 
But that was, oh, so long ago, by now you have forgot…



End
Categories: naves, men, time, war,
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member Forbidden Fruit

Written: January 19, 2024
                ______________________________________

Love swells as a glossy plum
Love is a heavenly amethyst duet
Lambent love, a luscious lake of lulls,
Love is the genesis
of all creation sequined,
fulcrum fern,
of our symbiotic existence
Love is an alchemy 
of cosmic serenades,
a strange spin sway
as a heart craves blood
even falling from a cliff
or drowning in a precipice
with love is delicious
It's vibrant-hued, bashful,
nurturing, as passion fruit
It's addiction—intoxication 
uproots and shakes our roots,
It burns akin to embers
and molds you into a poet
you gladly and willingly bow 
to its magical might.
 
Flames are blazing;
let the incense flow!
after resins hiss and vanishes
we cling to clouds,
where vapors fall and merge
whilst intense wish
and lovely yearning mingle
to light up the candles!
let slopes shine!
as hallowed naves, smells linger,
silently, we divine hand in hand
many melodies combine waves
there is no soft breath!
in choruses such as this
pure down ruins harmonies,
curls created by art and deceit
cast extra seeds into a brazier
amidst the silver flood,
senses may be able to discern
lovely, clever, drained woman.

Tent sky sapphire satin tracks
with gold moon and star icons
and set on an edge socket
topaz and malachite jars
nickel ball on a triple string
light dims our vibrant traits,
not to forget myrtle sprays!
drought will bestow prophecy
we listen on plaited hair mats.
before hospodar—known gestures,
I'm starting to grasp magic
of my early days as king.

1st place contest winner
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, analogy, appreciation, beauty, love,
Form: Free verse

A Memory of the First Sunday In April

Day lilies assorted and bright
With flox flowers purple and white
Crisscrossed expanses of soft green lawn
Thus was my first April day born
Palm branches the worshippers brought
Lining staircases and streets
As they ought;
Red Cardinals, Florida grass, hydrangeas, lavender
Scenting the air, aurelia and ferns; violas and shrubs
Daisies yellow and deep purple hues
Flowers abounding through maiden grass white
Doves and holy wells, seekers of light.
 
Steeples and places,
Seats of gold –
Vestries in ancient wood
Respected of old
Stained glass windows
Altars and naves –
Bright with daffodils
Poppies and haze
From fine water sprinklers
Fronting white towered cathedrals
Or plain wooden benches and Methodist places
Scurrying Baptists, hiding the faces
With cloths and white linens
Of embroidered laces
 
Peonies pink,
And look there fellow –
Lenten roses in mixes,
White, green and yellow.
Tennis courts and fancy fountains
Ornamental grasses
And pampas white
These colors, and flowers and other signs say:
“It’s the beginning of Holy Week
 Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord
 It’s Him whom we seek.”`
Categories: naves, devotion, holiday, inspirational, nature,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Las Naves De Madera

LAS NAVES DE MEDERA (Wooden Ships)
They wanted ships. What they got
was wooden shells
not a farthing from the Crown
for these floating buckets.
Six thousand corks, hastily riveted 
into the keel planking, kept them afloat.
Nina. Santa Maria. Pinta.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained said Isabella.

Ah, muchacho, would she ever cash in.
The navigater shot the course
over the main, visions of tapestry and lace
and all sorts of spices in his head.
Gold? Well--Sí, oro. 
But he never dreamed.

The natives appeared naked and restless.
In scatted shades of blues and reds,
artists painted skirts on the girls,
long shirts on the old women,
loincloth on the men,
and a pearl studded gilded  robe on the king.
Which Chris promptly stole.
His mistake was trying to hide it
from Isabella.
© ron wilson arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
© Vee Bdosa  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, history, visionary, voyage,
Form: Free verse

Crest

Among such smog-soaked folk
As curdle-coil in cloud-spun smoke

Along the grain-cut naves
Which, God-heavy, lie stiff as staves

On sad-strung ouds, yet creep
In concrete-crumbled static sleep

Over cambered cities.
Whose peaks and troughs ebb with pities;

A ring-road tidal flow
With human crest now sunk below...
© Dan Keir  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, city, identity, innocence, life,
Form: Verse

The Sunken Cathedral (Deux)

A brine muffled resonance given to the huge ancient tolling bells
Still the fearsome proud gargoyles stare but now outface just fish

Gentled by time a seas barnacle claimed pews some fifty fathoms down 
Chancel aisles and naves perceived there filled a ghostly congregation

Faithful now the drowned the dead the lost tsunami friends
They lie in the sea we know not where 

God please grant them heavenly peace
God please grant them  peace



Inspired by Claude Debussy’s piece
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, loss
Form: Free verse


Spontaneous Stigmata Surfacing

Spontaneous sulfurous stigmata sinisterly surfacing
Membranous molecules meticulously masterfully marshaling
Tangible tempestuous tears tangling thoughts
Radical revelation revealing ruinous rots
Pious priests patronize punishable penance
Impious illusions intrigue impacting independence
Narcotizing nefarious noxious naves navigate
Prioritizing pains portal pandemic perpetrate
False fixation fumigates fragmental fatal fury
Defaults determine damaged destructive demons dreary






Jan.18.2020
Eight-word challenge 1 2020 
Sponsored by: John Hamilton

Placed 3'rd...Thank You
Categories: naves, conflict, psychological, self,
Form: Alliteration

Sunken Cathedral - Trois

Black churning death coming from the sea
No distinction twixt them you or me

Drowned the dead the lost tsunami friends
Not figuring so quick and sharp their ends

Unheard by those above
Muffled heard a tolling bell
A greeting in depths far below

Gentled by time a seas barnacle claimed pews many fathoms down 
Chancel aisles and naves perceived there filled ghostly a new congregation

God please grant them heavenly peace
God please grant them  peace
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, death
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Cowboy Cathedral

A cowboy ain't got no use fer the trappin's uv a meetin' house affiliation,
In which to commune with the Lord to git his religious inspiration!
He won't be corralled by a staid and sanctimonious congregation.
He's free to wrangle his spiritual grub from God's Grand Creation!

He ain't got no need fer a fancy altar er them hard-backed pews,
And he won't squirm fer hours as the preacher expounds upon his views!
The great outdoors is his cathedral where he can worship ever' day.
He lifts his eyes to the hills whence comes strength frum across the way!

The Lord provides music with the thunder rumblin' across the range,
Along with the tenor uv a ripplin' stream as it meanders through the grange.
The risin' sun warms his soul as his hoss canters across the plains.
The splendid sunsets are more stunnin' than any uv them glass-stained panes!

He ain't worried about enterin' a church to be met by a contemptuous sigh,
Jes' 'cause he ain't dressed proper in a three-hundred dollar suit and tie!
The Lord welcomes him in His cathedral with his scruffy boots and jeans.
With his sweat-stained shirt and old slouch hat, he's considered a man of means!

He ain't impressed with majestic naves, apses, transepts and sech things.
His sanctuary is the splendor uv the universe and the blessin's that it brings!
His pew is his saddle where he bows his head in reverent adoration,
Knowin' that frum the grandest cathedral of all, He'll hear his supplication!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories: naves, cowboy-western
Form: Rhyme

Sunken Cathedral - Cinq

Gentling time barnacles claiming pews some fifty fathoms down 
chancel aisles naves resting ghostly new congregation comedown

almost heard by those above

Muffled a tolling bell below 
faithful call not so long ago

Gods churning black oceans will not cease
god please grant to them heavenly peace
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, sea,
Form: Couplet

Sunken Bell

Muffled tolling bell below 
calling faithful long ago

Gods churning black oceans will not cease
god please grant to them heavenly peace

Drowned the dead our lost tsunami friends 

Chancel aisles and naves now a ghostly new congregation comedown
gentle overtime now a barnacles business pews fifty fathoms down 

Almost remembered by those above
but not forgotten below

(Dedicated to the Tsunami dead past ((and future))
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, loss, love,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Crime of the Clock

The Crime of the Clock
David J Walker

Only now do I know
 	The name of my youth 
Printed on tablets of stone
A suspicious truth 
Laced in vermouth
the creative slaves 
And the innocent naves
Dine alone 
In the booth 
Of their own design 

Only now do I know
	The lateness of the hour
And the power 
Of the clocks opine 
A chime of the truth
Or so says the sooth 
Each tick and its tock 
Responds to the clock 
Alerting the sleuth
To its crime
Categories: naves, allegory, time,
Form: Rhyme

Resting In the Sunken Cathedral

Brine muffled resonance given to the huge ancient tolling bells
till the fearsome proud gargoyles stare but now outface just fish

Gentled by time a seas barnacle claimed pews some fifty fathoms down 
chancel aisles and naves perceived there filled a ghostly congregation

Faithful now the drowned the dead the lost tsunami friends
they lie in the sea we know not where 

God please grant them heavenly peace
God please grant them  peace



Inspired by Claude Debussy’s piece
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, loss, sea,
Form: Free verse

Sunken Cathedral Six

Huge bronze bells peel muffled engulfed by sea 
above unhearing in depths deaf to thee

drowned the dead the lost tsunami friends
not figuring quick and sharp their ends

black churning death coming from the sea
no distinction twixt them you or me

death some surprise shaken a shock from the sea 
xept not dying in autumn like you or me

God please grant them heavenly peace
God please grant them peace

chancel and naves filled ghostly a new congregation
gentle barnacle claimed pews giving us no separation
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: naves, dedication, loss, love, autumn,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Ash Wednesday

Ashes,
Black, gritty, sooty signs
Painted on the foreheads
Of humanity parading about.
My thumb would be black
For several days following
The signing of so many foreheads,
The dark soot engrained
Within my right thumb print.

Ash Wednesday is a magnet
That draws people, compels people
into the dark oak pews 
of equally darkened church naves;
Pews filled, spewing with humanity,
Seeking what? What are they seeking?
What compels them to be there?
To be reminded of their dusty origins?
The dust from which they were born,
Only for their bones to crumble 
Into the dust in which they will buried?

Do they come to be reminded
Of their brokenness?
The product of their wretchedness
Inflicted upon others, or
Their own lives shattered into pieces
By  other unfeeling wretches?
Do they come to hear the words,
“Turn away from sin
And be faithful to the Gospel,
Ring for the next forty days in their ears?

All these years of blackened thumbs,
The carbon of this dark, sooty ash 
has been absorbed Into my blood stream, 
Into my cells, and into my soul. 
Yes, I know what this day reveals for me,
As I sign my wife and my son,
And our pet dog whose curiosity
Got her signed and unleashed
A sortie of sneezes and snorts.

The carbon on my forehead,
Is the same carbon of my body,
Which is in solidarity and sameness
With the carbon of my wife, son, and dog,
Roses and dandelions,
Shrubs and thistles,
Earth worms, and wood ticks,
Palm trees and pine trees,
Snakes and lizards,
Sharks and bullheads,
Lions and cattle,
Water, air, stone, and earth.

The ashes are all about our oneing,
All humanity, animal, nature
One and the same, derived
From the one and the same carbon
Breathed upon the universe
By the one, yet three, deity
Over five billion years ago,
When divine incarnated itself
Into carbon, the same black,
Gritty, sooty carbon on my forehead.

(c) Robert Charles Wagner. All rights reserved.
Categories: naves, religious,
Form: Free verse
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