Best Obstructed Poems
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.
On a beautiful afternoon, crisp and sunny, I set out on a trek to the nearby woods. Except my camera, intentionally picked up, I hadn’t carried with me any other goods. All along, I saw wild flowers and strange herbs and paused to take pictures, but kept moving. No doubt, it was a rewarding experience. The lure of the unknown seemed bewitching. From the cluster of flowers on a sprawling tree, the wind wafted a rare exotic smell which I inhaled to my heart’s content. All along, I heard the twitter of chirping sparrows and some other birds and could spot large squirrels with striped designs and bushy tails. Proceeding further, heard a gurgling sound. It must be a small cataract, I did suppose. My guess was right. It fell off a rock and ran into a stream with murmur enough to lull one to sweet repose. The whistle of a quail fell in my ears and the rhythm of the tapping of a wood pecker and the creaking of dry leaves under my feet…all familiar sounds to any forest trekker! Feeling happy over my progress without a hitch, listening to the soft cajoling of birds and the confused drone of honey bees, I walked playfully stamping on the weeds.
woodland paths unwind
bringing multi scenes in row~
joy to heart and soul
By the time I reached half my way, the forest fell into darkness much
earlier to sunset. It shattered my peace and blotted out my sight, that I started running wild feeling violently upset. I knew I had strayed off the accustomed path, saw the dark sky above and heard a foreboding owl’s hoot. My path was severely obstructed by a tangle of creepers. I felt so puzzled that I could hear the loud thump of my heart. Under a thicket, covered with brambles, I saw a sudden movement as that of a beast and was afraid to look over my shoulders. My teeth chattered and my knees smote. I swooned unable to think or act, hear or see. For how long I lay there in a trance, not sure. When I woke, I saw myself lying at the foot of a tree. To my great relief, I saw the sun beams filtering down and an orange tint streaming across the foggy sky. I couldn’t say if I saw heaven or hell. Better to say, I experienced both.
unexpected turns,
life takes, landing us in angst~
yet, add to our strength
My words and rhymes are hidden
I can’t decipher them at all
Somehow they’re obstructed from
V
I
E
W
Like a puzzle without specific clues
It is a mere enigma
That leaves one completely clueless
11- 10- 17
Alexis Y.
Good morning, men;
We wake this dawn on a battlefield prepared before us.
The dew has not yet dried and the scent of earth comingles in the mist.
Some of you wake alone, while some of you wake with company.
But rise you must and be prepared for your test.
This is your time... this is your moment of preparation.
This is the moment that will dictate victory over great distress
Keep strong in the absence of our meeting and being in God’s home, together. But in spirit we are united, and have strength in Jesus Christ…
to conquer all things of this world,
and to love as he loves us,
to lift up as he lifts us,
to care for as he shepherds us.
We are his instrument and do only as he instructs us, for His glory alone.
And with absolute faith, un-obstructed by fear, submit to his authority, knowing that
he is the way,
the truth,
and the life,
That thru him we have Mercy,
and want that mercy for all mankind.
And our enemy, who surrounds us...
by dusk, will be laid to waste.
They have no power over Christ and will be denied the victory they desire.
This will be their doing, for it is their decision alone, to rule this world.
And in this world, they will be buried, and remain forever.
While we, his servants will join His feast in the everlasting.
Have a great day, gentlemen… and keep being men of God, and strength to one another.
Your brother in Christ.
by, Martin Braun
3/25/2020
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2RJ8QZwhn4
Today's true tom tale;
Today was Dr. day at the clinic
I ended up the day quite a cynic
I'd been awake three days,
With a toothache and pain that slays
My jagged teeth cutting up my tongue
And the promise of help to which I clung
For no more of this pain could I endure,
I desperately did seek some kind of cure
Appointment at 2:15- told the taxi 1:30
I knew the fib was a tad dirty...
"Hedge the bet" one might say,
Sad to think one must be that way,
Of course in this case he showed up at 1PM
And I was in the waiting room at 1:15
Fastest response I'd ever seen.
So I sat in the waiting room as
Clerical shifts came and went
My patience seemed nearly spent
At last I was escorted to an examining room,
To sit and ponder my future doom...
For over an hour I sat there,
Reading all the posters on the wall,
About various diseases,
Soon I had them all!
Cervical cancer,
Malignant volvulus,
Infected ovaries,
Fibroid tumors in my uterus,
A glumaceous gluteus,
Obstructed bowels,
Deviated septum
Leukemia,
Anemia, edemia
Enlarged prostate,
Shrunken prostate
Eczema, Lupus
Leprosy.....
All these for me!
I hoped he didn't keep me
waiting too much longer,
Surely I wasn't getting stronger....
I'd be dead in ten more afflictions
If he could not cure all these conditions.
I felt my life force start to fade
Look at what these posters made!
Surely life was slipping away,
I couldn't stand,
I began to sway.
In he finally came,
Suddenly I did not feel
the same,
I might survive the day after all,
My approaching death grew
rather small.
Next time, bring a book,
For in terms of time,
It hardly took,
Much time to catch
All these ills,
Or at least come in,
With made out wills.
Is space-time a fabric that stretches and strains,
like a grass harp ruffling across the great plains,
when the force of a huge body in motion
makes waves akin to the billowing ocean?
LIGO’s antennae have finally disclosed
those waves gravitational Einstein proposed
that travel along with the swiftness of light
and can’t be obstructed in their spatial flight.
A faint fleeting whoop is the sound that was heard,
resembling the chirp of a faraway bird.
So the Nobel winner, with brilliant foresight
a century past, was again proven right!
In Einstein encomium much overdue,
we praise and applaud what he already knew
from his relativity theory acclaimed,
that pillar of physics for which he is famed.
The presence of mass as a part of his theme
makes space and time curve, in that elegant scheme.
And this is indeed how gravity functions,
not as a force, but as cosmic conjunctions.
Two black holes colliding, a billion light-years
removed, gave a sign that brought triumphant cheers
from the LIGO team, with a soft rising tone
making Einstein’s ineffable notion known.
The project cost umpteen millions of dollars.
Astronomers seemed the leeriest scholars
and felt the investment would be a big waste,
not trusting the models on which it was based.
Miles of steel tubing in L-shaped position
of vacant chambers were used in the mission
for gauging expansions and fluctuations,
with an outcome exceeding expectations.
The breakthrough implies that stargazers can peer
not just with the eye but moreover may hear
stellar storms bending space and changing time’s flow
in colossal activities to and fro.
Yes ripples in space-time were validated,
as Einstein had long ago calculated.
Researchers gave credit to LIGO, although
he is probably saying, “I told you so!”
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
One of the articles that inspired the poem was “Gravitational Waves: What Their Discovery Means for Science and Humanity”
http://www.space.com/31922-gravitational-waves-detection-what-it-means.html#sthash.pFxWYwlQ.dpuf
Surfing a mind obstructed with Cupid's arrow
was like bleeding a river that flowed upwards,
towards an angry volcano having nightmares.
A volatile internal rumble craving relief,
only in eruption.
Such was his fury with the thought
of her very existence.
Just as braving the flow of molten rock
was like telling the Tide to stay high,
so was he, Cupid's bow, on the run
trampling on a pool of teardrops
while craving an ocean to drown.
A rage surpassing the passion of hate
permeating that realm of throbbing pain
caused by a guilt scourging his very being.
As Cupid's poison in a delirious mind
denoted, the only cure was the total
deletion of the betrayed.
To her, hate or any emotion
was better than none.
He could do no wrong,
for it was Cupid with his poisoned arrow
who shot her handsome dove.
Their love was borne out of
the belly of the earth, delivered
by the demons of the underworld.
She had tasted its fury and was
scorched by its flames.
Such, could not be touched
by a misguided arrow.
Betrayal was his but a mighty
weapon she had.
Forgiveness might be divine
but her love was patient.
He would be delivered from
Cupid's poison only,
by the very knowledge of
her perpetual existence.
T M Ioane.
Caught up in cycles of love-hate
she dons a smile to hide her hurt.
Yet, her conflicting emotions,
lead to inevitable pain.
In her fantasies, she's happy;
although that feeling is fleeting.
For in her world of make-believe,
she conjures hope from denial.
Jealousy lurks in the shadows;
taunting her devastated heart.
For whenever she's feeling blue,
dreams dwell on melancholy thoughts.
Youth's impenetrable shield failed
to guard her vulnerable heart.
And as lies obstructed the truth,
illusions fueled delusions.
Smitten by unrequited love,
fantasy shuns reality.
And teeters on the very edge,
of despair and insanity.
The songbird
Free from being caged
Her melody is beautiful
Because she is no longer afraid
She doesn't sing for your amusement
The songbird does not sing for fame
Oh, she sings for love
Because it can not be tamed
Born wild
Songbirds of all types and colors
Fathers
Brothers
Sisters
Mothers
Beauty deserves to be set free, and
She honored everyone
When that sweet relief
Of freedom hit her wings
When she flew away for the first time
It was a spectacle to see
She perched and landed
Upon a giant sequoia tree
She held no resentment
And the only matter that
She was now captured by
Was her new profound view
The songbird has love in her heart
And that's one thing you can't steal
The music in her voice
Obstructed my fear, she
Began to guide me with her remedy and
I assented, with my mind now clear
It was incredible
The power echoing through her
The enchantment that she showed
Admiring her strength
Tiny in form but beautiful in design
Reminding me that love conquers all
I could feel my sorrows, turn into hope
I had burst with senses of a budding flower, ready to grow
Oh, how hearing her..
Through my layers
She peeled
Oh, how my encounter with her..
Made me feel
Like a songbird, too
Two Moons
‘I am the Goddess of Hellfire in spitting disguise when I travel alone and
need all support I can enlist to water my flames lest it gets out of hand’
proclaims the sun all rays shine and glory scorching the poor souls below
grills leathering skin deceives and strokes brains before mid and after glow
‘My parchment cannot be inscribed in solar solitude quite simply reverse
the orbit would gravely go out of sink kilter descend lower as I traverse’
scare the living daylight with radiant blindness imbalance’s solitary pursuit
thus convenes the basking star in solemn dialogue with moonlight’s tribute
The lovers eloped therefore together full steam under cover of darkness
left critics and envious rival dissenters behind because and regardless
of convention moronic norms social etiquette when passion erupted
with lunar pleasure in hearts body mind and soul never once obstructed
They made love and spooned their moons in wax and in wain they melted
pushed into each other pulled mingled as composite thoughts fusing and felt it
decided one sun is never enough and that light needs shelter and darkness
to contrast and heighten the elevation coronate union luminous sharpness
All previous heartfelt damnations the voices of doom slowly evaporated
once universal bonding moons sun and earth and their essence conjugated
they seem raving mad to embellish the sun with interplanetary spheres
but relish new horizons the soothing of hellfire admonish wisdom from tears
16th September
hy does my skin feel so cold
A stray thought
resting on my lonely mind
The feeling of warmth
fleeting, vanished along with the rolling clouds
Is this supposed to be a paradise
or a living nightmare
Once the shadows part ways
here arrives the swift sense of victory
only to see failure charge with a white horse
and gleaming armor
Backed into a corner
begging for an option of sealing the swords away
for the grief of the loss
from beloved wife still burns strong
Do the Gods exist
she believed it so but I remain the fool
for I don't believe in anything that would steal her away
yet the reasoning proceeds to seep
as her predictions reign true to me
Possibilities are seen impossible for
now the feeling in these
breakable hands grows as cold as ice
Blood pours out of the bodies
these swords have severed
An arena...this where last stands are made
Obstructed is the view of the beholder
as in those eyes, the last one seemed so familiar
yet the only sound was the crowd screaming the name
Spartacus!
Spartacus!
Spartacus!
I loved him more than he might have known
With all my heart… I had loved him and grown
Accepting of his problems, his pain and sorrow
All that comes with addiction in the morrow
I loved him more than my words could have told
With him I felt inspired, alive and oh, so very bold
He made me feel like I was someone worthy of love
And always told me to believe in the God up above
I loved him more than I could have even known
His heart and soul were a light to me that shown
With hues of sapphire, crimson and ivory stones
That caressed my spirit with soft, gentle tones
I loved him more than wisdom would have instructed
Felt closer to him than the brother who obstructed
With the drink in his hand and the pill in his blood
Washing away his troubles with cloudy, chemical crud
I loved him more than most of those who left him alone
Too wounded by his recklessness they couldn’t condone
There were times when I thought of breaking away too
But I just couldn’t bare to leave him feeling so very blue
I loved him more than wisdom told me that I should
And I truly did know that this love wasn’t for the good
Because I wasn’t able to fix his problems or his pain
Or pull his gloomy heart and hope in from the rain
I loved him more than I could have hoped to let him know
With a love that left me so miserable when he let go
Of the life that he had filled with worry, pain and regret
All the reasons that left me so lost with loneliness to fret
I loved him more assuredly than he ever loved himself
Even though insight will tell you to be true to yourself
He gave his life up because he couldn’t let go of a craving
Even though quitting that habit would have been lifesaving
Addiction Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Rob Levasseur
December 23, 2020
Dedicated to Michael Arrowood, who was a addict, my favorite uncle and who died from an overdose June 1998
I never studied the downed limbs before Sandy.
I was savoring the muscle burn from herringboning my way up a hill or fretting over a ping in my back, the price of macho competitions in the steel mill of my youth,
Where one didn’t just carry his own weight,
He showed up the next guy.
Is that what the preening hemlock was up to before relentless winds left it writhing at the feet of puny peers?
Before Sandy I took no inventory of the fallen.
But now, as I recover my breath and shiver, the sweat soaking my collar, I honor the once wiry, powerful maples, decaying in the cantilever of weaker kin.
The snowmobile trail, obstructed, forbidden after Sandy is open, welcoming,
but now bounded with once majestic limbs, brutally cut and lifeless.
Here at Herrington Manor, alone under a charcoal sky,
I think back to my day trip to Antietam, where I, never one to study battles and count their casualties, shuddered by the ditch where thousands were piled, the earth still soaked with their blood a week after battle.
Rage, despair, grief, devastation and regret, flowing like
hot lava spewing out from a volcano through my veins,
pushing out my red hot blood onto this white leaf;
For suddenly and without any fair warning came,
an enormous black cloud that stationed itself overhead and
obstructed the sun from my first redwood seed in sprout
and with a great fury it released a violent torrent of rain,
drenching it completely, until alas my sapling did drown.
My budding redwood tree, destroyed before its time,
the damage is irrevocable and my sapling is no more.
Like a cannon ball shot from its cannon, fire shoots
from my mouth with all fierceness and in rage I roar….
“Who really is to blame for this unfathomable demise of
my precious sapling, my budding grand redwood tree?
Was it the black cloud with its tools of destruction or
the lack of assiduousness of those with their expertise?”
Yes, regretfully my sapling was not planted by the stream.
As a seed, in ignorance it was sown upon soil rocky and dry;
yet against all odds, my seed sprouted with some foliage,
but its roots did not run deep and so with the specialist I relied
to care and strengthen it so it could withstand the bad elements.
Sadly, they were specialists with an expert eye that could not see,
they were worthless and of no avail, lacking the assiduity needed,
for their eyes, mind and heart were blinded by their own greed.
Rage, despair, grief, devastation and regret, flowing like
hot lava spewing out from a volcano through my veins,
pushing out my red hot blood onto this white leaf.
For the black cloud is now set above me like a fixed stain,
with all might I struggle to escape it’s dreadful grip, but
still it hovers over me obstructing the sun from my days,
releasing a torrent of pain and in the agony of my loss it
drenches me and the answers to my questions are still opaque.
Oh...but take heed all you with your degree, my roots run deep,
I will not drown and like a raging bull I push forward so valiantly
for the lucidity of the answers, lucid as a glass made of crystal;
all for the love of my departed budding grand redwood tree.
Written by: Joan Marie Peranteau
copy written May 3, 2014
Dedicated to and written in regards to my beloved son;
Nathaniel Blaine Gibson
Why are you here?
My question is that why are you here?
Before night day bright and after night day bright
In the middle your presence just a break for bed
My question is that why are you here night?
After night day bright before night day bright
Pinky asked me this question, Dad solve this question
Not finding the clue I stood blind to sue her
My chide was that a slap for the question.
Day remained silent the day was in juvenile
Sun wanted to come down wanted to solve the question
Night obstructed the issue his stand will be finish
Before night day bright after night day bright.