Best Paled Poems
In the silent breathing of night,
treading through
the darkness and the hush
(A heavy band of slave)
like black ants snaking
through the forlorn distance.
Grieving with tears
Of yesterdays burning anguish.
They hum a languid song
On the fragrant breath of wind.
A haunt that invades my trembling eyes
With a thousand boundless tears
That quivers through the night.
The dreaded echoes came down the black pathway
Like a thousand men
Galloping through the sultry breeze
(Were the heartless whips that toiled)
With dumb hands,
Feeding paled pink flesh
With endless stings of cruel misery.
The stars curled around their naked feet
As they trampled the grass
Wet with lurid dew and the masked
Beds of fragrant hues
Prancing in the hallowed night.
I could feel the storming of their sorrows,
The rock of their heart
Drooping with defeat.
Despair a master to their fading hope
That sailed across their faces.
Oh those foul notes budding with despair
Branched within their eyes.
The lulling whispers of their shackles
United with their treading feet like hooves
Cloaked with heavy weariness
(It surrounded the dead of night)
I hung up my fears
For I was bright with their pain
Oh I died that day
Oh I died that day
While drifting to the helpless East
To that damp cold earth filled
With drowsy mournful Asters
Then the smell of dead men came alive
Black dogs clustered to the earth
Their children beside them with gripping hands!
There once was a raven haired Shrink
who had orange Juice Tequilas to drink
while her scarlet souled Beau
sucked her tinted red Toe
and she paled when he tickled her Pink.
Rudolph paled because his nose turned brown
He couldn’t smile so he wore a frown
Santa wiped a tear from the reindeer’s eye
He hated to see poor Rudolph cry
Santa sprinkled on some Christmas dust
The nose is now red not a dark shade of rust
So look out of your window on Christmas night
You will see Rudolph’s red nose shining bright
Jan Allison
6th December 2014
Tears
(for A, I shed)
When I herd these tribes and fashion cities
With my words, you are what's missing.
- Mookie Katigbak, The Proxy Eros
I cast a brief look at you many a time,
Partly considering your noonday shadow’s silhouette a singular move far
As you pay heed in discreet agony to the old Angelus' chewed verses
and secrecy.
This dust-laden jalousie classroom spares me to steal quite a glance of you--
Trussed up in your chair, chin nesting on left palm
Time and again as against your emptiness.
Religious as your hair finger- combed in place all too often.
Seedless to say, before you’ll be hand in hand with your lover,
Whose teeth are those of metals,
On the following street to reach your home in Gusa ,
Let me tell you my itch:
If it is a misdeed that I travel from one antinomy to another,
Perhaps, you are the credo and the gospel on top of which
Of what I cannot write nor cite in the words of my poetics:
Drunk diurnal sobrieties, c(r)ooked metaphors
And jabberwockies, each verb I turn into flesh: darling, these are not
You.
If by chance, you’d come to notice the process
Of what I do and do all the time
Without my consent or other of a conscious effort,
Listen:
You are these paled viscid extracts
Resting lightly astride my lashes that are sure
Warmer than a breath and are yet to trickle down my cheeks.
*Gusa - A place in Cagayan de Oro City , Southern Philippines
A rose is guarded from prying hands
By thorns along the stem
Reality makes the truth known
A heart can be kept safe
From those who wish it maimed
By icy spikes of bitterness
And distrust
Thorns are beautiful
As are my own version of such a Godsend
Serrated barbed wire
That hurts both the offender and the prey
It works both ways for us
We had some bond
That the fairy tales paled against
Though what naive child was I to ignore
The untamed look as you swept me off my feet
And killed the innocnce
I longed to preserve
A wound carries infection
When left untreated
A shattered heart
And useless dream
Will not infect
But most surely
Scar
My burning heart
Bleeds for salt
To make it worse
And yet
To make it feel so much better
Now I have played my part
And those thorns that once looked
Deadly yet respectable
Made me see
Time does not always heal all wounds
The memory will stay caught
Onto those pikes of self preservation
And your Betrayal within me.
My known, soothing landscapes,
grown from my own hues and shapes,
somehow vanquished their view.
Just one more sore blister of news
to aid my staid mind’s gist of confused.
My angered fist punched tears in their wake
before my shock shakily jot them on a list
of all my heart sought to restore propped.
Truth and I both awoke the first day of last September.
Coffee bound, then mumming around, it was not
long before I felt scared and anxiety provoked ~
?? ... the kitchen was in disorder,
nothing in its place * as I thought it over, I
realized all rooms were oddly rearranged *
back in my room, I paled at a stranger's
face in the mirror, a white-haired woman
wearing my face * the scales said I had
lost 20 pounds some place ... ??
I sagged to the floor from facts scored.
Should I wake my sleeping man to
answer my questions and more?
My fear decided I should hide
inside ignorance while I had the
chance. I was scared once truth made
up my bed, my life might fully
deplete under my own sheets.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Though details are clouded, I have surely been rerouted.
I try but fail to decipher what all determined this matter.
Prime pieces of me were clearly scattered blind-battered
by forces cemented to time-tatter my mind demented.
It feels as though I have been divorced from myself
by means of some unleashed, bruiser intruder.
I lack all recall of three times three hundred and sixty-five days.
My doctor cannot explain what dementia did to my brain.
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
Shaking his head, following her voice as it trailed
He smiles to himself, ’give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
It was love at first sight, the surround greyed and paled
Spotting this electric eccentric, dancing in the rain
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
As time flowed by, he knew how they’d not failed
He is her best friend through all; hysterical laughter to anguish and pain
He smiles to himself, ‘give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
She loves him wholehearted, though never been veiled
On the news of their daughter, he’d tried proposing, in vain
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
Now soo much older, their matured rich love haled
She is both bubbly and light, and a grumpy old pain
He smiles to himself, “give it time’, hew knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
She turns to face him, happy laughter regaled
He takes her hand, “So about that sword cane…”
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
He smiles to himself, ‘give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
Contest: Third-Person Villanelle Poetry Contest
Hosted by: L.Milton Hankins
Date: 23.11.2022
Memories, Long Sad Journey,
Bitter cold that Saturday morning, late in November 1969, I could see my breath parading before me. No breakfast as I had quietly left the house and started my slow walking trek back to our old home.
Memories flooded my brain with each new turn along that dusty road. Along with questions about why I was now so rebellious. Quicker, walk quicker my heart and soul demanded. Do you not want to touch the bedroom door where you father slept? Slept before that long dark sleep. Slept in such pain and sorrow? Yes, bellowed back my invisible friend.
frosty morning dew
loose pebbles crunched beneath feet
earth, morning sky paled
Halfway there, with my heart racing and anticipation heightened
I could almost imagine a real touch. A real touch, of he now lost, to all eternity!
What wild thoughts come to a teenage soul and mind in its greatest of pains and sorrows. Can death be denied? Can one bring back even for the briefest moment a loved one.. A father, a beloved father!
blackbirds silent view...
light ahead, welcomed beacon
wrapped in winter's sheen
Walking up the short drive and onto the front porch. Only gone away half a year and such change found! Silence, silence engulfed my thoughts. Struck numb as I entered our vacated home. Home were my father had exhaled his last breath. Hand shaking as I reach for that doorknob..
What would I see? His ghost? Would I dare touch his ghost? I walked into cold, lonely room,nothing!
No smile, no hug, no long awaited touch! Only tears, tears by the bucketful.
What had I come to find? Was I crazy to want to see, talk, touch one more time?
one old shoe, lonely
broken window, dusty mounds
bleak abandoned walls
I knew, knew with certainty that this was it. Life gave no overs and no going back to happier times. Terror of that reality, would it ever leave. Would it?
Father is dead and my life is over. I walked out into this dark world ready to fight. Fighting to be left alone, with my never ending sorrow and its sweet cuts. Cuts embraced to keep my rage, to yet again feel something, defeat the icy numbness in a rebellious teenager's aching heart.
Robert J. Lindley, August 5th, 2017
Crimson rivulets, felled from a need for pain.
They forget to scream, and instead a sigh reigns.
The blade that strokes.
Each murderous thought it provokes.
An attempt to escape paled and failed.
The stains embalmed.
The blade now palmed, for the wrist it may dash.
If it may, more blood doth it dash
An idea that pain is relief, how rash.
This hurt so much, could they not ever remember to move on?
Yet to this they fall pawn.
Somehow to it they feel drawn.
Their thighs and wrists well clawn.
Now they are gone.
Out of the silence, a single sound is born.
The echoing drip of the dropping drops of stained blood.
Dreams will never cease,
I dream of our walk together
the lane of rustling shades
The holding of our hands
That gave simple but immense pleasure
The lying on the beach with star filled night
The misty night with moon
That paled in our love and fervour
I hold all these of you my dear
Dream never cease will never cease
I will never allow it to cease
So what if you are gone
The blast has taken you away
But my dreams are in tack
Never to leave you away
You will help beat my heart
You will help me live
You will breathe along
To make my life mammoth
We will live for peace
We shared those thoughts in serenity
We dreamed of all those tranquility
Now we live through them
With no qualms…….sunkan
His life proceeded as before
even though she left his door
he still got up at half past seven
ate his gruel and prayed to heaven
he still went out to plow the fields
and calculated all the yields
from cows and chicks and eggs that hatched
he mended fences,wove the thatch
that roofed his hut in from the cold
but subtle changes could be told
he used to sing the cows back home
and whistle when he was alone
he brought her daisies every night
but now they wilted in his sight
his hair turned ashen and his eyes
paled their blue to winter skies
a tremor started in his hands
he wrote her name out in the sands
out beside the garden gate
and on that night
she chanced to wait
deciding love beneath the pines
and there behold she saw these lines...
"she left because I would not say
the words I'm writing here today,
I love you
seems so very small,
for when she left
she took my all."
Sunsets aren't quite as bright;
And the flowers are all dying.
Miss you, tall, handsome knight,
As autumn leaves are flying.
Searing summer now a memory-
Soon we'll be together again!
Hope you often think of me.
I know you're not too vain.
Didn't we dance golden days and nights away?
Didn't we kiss under the moon?
But sunny skies have now paled to gray.
Summer left too soon!
Seems I loved you forever.
You are my every pastel sunrise.
Said you'd love me always, whatever.
You are my heart's surprise.
As sweet summer begins to fade,
I must have grown lonelier, it seems,
But for the lovely plans we made,
In the days of dreams.
Waking to the dawns
pattern of lace
Lovingly laid there
upon your face
How the light and the
dark did dance
Mesmorizing me into
a deep trance
Even its beauty paled
compared to you
Smiling i think you're my
dream come true
When your eyes opened
oh so slow
Gorgeous eyes always
holding a glow
Touching your face, you
made me calm
Turning my hand over
you kiss my palm
A beautiful simplicity
just felt so right
Even the sun seemed to
shine more bright
Leaning forward you
whisper in my ear
Heaven this morning
as you pull me near
There is nothing better than waking beside on you love and still loving each morning!
Date:10/4/2019
Contest:best rhyme
Sponsor:Tania Kitchin
Sailed across the sea to Dublin
then drove west to County Clare.
To the small village called Doolin,
'tis stout I'II be drinkin' there.
The craic as they say is mighty
In Gus Connors cosy pub,
at night there's always a cèilì
and stout served with homely grub.
Then the floor clears for set dancing
and they dance a set or two,
to the sound of the tin whistle
the bodhran and fiddle too.
Next morn saw the Cliffs of Moher
on the Wild Atlantic way
and the Aran Isles in Galway
In the teeth of Galway bay.
Sometimes you won't be so lucky
mists might roll in from the sea,
with howling winds like a banshee
beware! paths might slippy be.
Calm days you might see seals basking
when the skies are blue and clear,
they're the selkie's, I'm not jokin'
I've seen some at Doolin Pier.
The limestone rocks of the Burren
with a landscape like the moon,
It’s renowned for flora unique
all the rocks are oblique hewn.
Last day I drove south to Blarney
to kiss the old Blarney stone.
And now I never stop talking
wife calls me the walking drone.
Drove to the M8 for Dublin
for a two and half hour ride
then stopped just outside the city
honour those that sadly died.
At Glasnevin there’s a graveyard
brave men and boys, Irelands pride
and in the towns and country
fought fiercely and bravely died.
Bronze famine figures at dockland
with children, women, and men
and to see them you'd be saddened
thousands died in Ireland then.
Drove to the port for the ferry
t'was pouring the sky had paled
my days in Ireland were merry
and at six the ferry sailed.
A lovely October morning!
Today I rose much earlier than usual.
I watch the night stealing away,
Like an accused convict under cover.
Sunlight peeks through the leaves.
In the haze of overhanging mist,
Only the blurred silhouette of trees, in sight.
The crows have begun their raucous call.
The leaves of grass are misted with dew.
A cool zephyr blows from the south.
The sky in scintillating colors adorn.
Even Sirius, the brightest star has paled.
Life is slowly beginning to unfold,
And men like shadows have begun to move.
The sun has now climbed to the Eastern hills,
In magisterial glory like a mighty king.
Shattering the mist with his lance like beams,
He exults like a victorious warrior.
His crystal rays rouse the sleeping birds,
And they begin their chorus in wondrous rhyme.
I enjoy the sweetness of this lovely morn.
In serene silence, I stand and watch,
The light that slowly fills the Earth,
Dispelling all trace of overhanging darkness!