Best Panicked Poems
(The Fallen Poet)
Shadows, fall from the east
Winter show, white meadows,
Compelling words lost, in a silent world
Beautiful, Bloomingdale is how it goes
Apocalypto-- my very own limbo
Alone in a field of corpses-
A field of men, women and broken pens,
Images of angels fallen to their knees
A piece of space, of solitude
The sun a wasted disease
The more I prayed the worse I felt,
Lord, I came before - broken and alone
Heaven sees the secret inside
Lost I may be, yet you see
Offended me, I no longer sing
I wait till all is asleep
My ink is dry, a broken poet, with nowhere to go
Lost in the shadows of snow, frozen like ice
A sheet of paper, with no meaning, no words
My friends, my comrades, how easily one forgets
Like a game of chess, I panicked
Made all the right and wrong moves
I lost my way, staggered across
Love comes and love goes
My heart weaker than, weak
I don't know how I survived before,
After turning the other cheek
I was no longer whole, forsaken myself endlessly
I was lost, could not even count on myself
Guidance, I ignored no one believed what's become of me
Alone, I stood in old footsteps after falling down
At times end, I found nothing could put me back where I belong
It's time to get back on offense,
Walk through the new, refreshing old footprints
~*~
Wild spirit -
I cherished you tender
within my halo of prana;
careful not to hurt you
as I worked to set you free
using hands of peace
in harmony
with my heart's song
I beheld your fragile form
of freedom lost
as your panicked eyes
pleaded release..
and in those precious
and few sacred moments
I felt you relinquish
your fight or flight
to my mission of mildness...
a unifying lesson of love
befell us that day
as we exchanged gifts -
and when again you flew
through reflective silvery winds
on turquoise wings anew
we elevated in mindful mercy
to compassionate heights
in revered reverberations...
gratified to be reborn
in your new found freedom
Susan Ashley
October 7, 2018
Prometheus had erred and caused great ire
when stealing in stealth secrets of fire.
But Zeus could not forgive this deed.
The chieftain of gods punished his greed.
The lightning zigzagged across the sky,
in anger he let thunderbolts fly.
Instructions he gave to mould from earth
a woman endowed to prove her worth,
all humans to touch their lives and shift
the balance with her seductive gift.
Hephaestus was told what to create;
Pandora came forth through heaven’s gate.
Athena supplied her silver gown,
her head she adorned with ornate crown.
She hastened to guile the human race
her nature refined to tempt by grace
alluring deceit that knew no shame
her mission withstood distrust or blame.
Pandora’s torment flowed wide and far.
She carried with her an earthen jar.
Instructions were laid to be obeyed
to keep it enclosed and so it stayed
till yearning became hard to resist
temptation knew well how to insist.
Alone by herself beside a brook
she lifted the lid, a glancing look
that opened the flood to evil force
unhindered it spread and took its course.
She panicked and pushed with all her might;
the damage was done – eternal plight.
A trickle of hope was left inside
but hardly enough to turn the tide.
When laws are defied they cause much grief;
the pleasure derived is false and brief.
Temptation is what destroys the weak;
redemption is there for all to seek.
Forever in life it’s hard to cope.
Pandora we chase in search of hope.*
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* Pandora is chased for the only thing left in her jar – hope.
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Author: Paul Callus
Contest: Men Only #2
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Placed 1st
Ever wrote a sequel
To a poem about
The road of dead bodies
that you drove upon?
I dont Think So^^
O. Yeah im laughing
At such a radical idea
Thats not registerd yet
Into naiive-Like brain cells
Yeah! Am laughing^^
Wish I could just throw
My smile on that kid
That lay stone cold
Hand over ears even in death
Died of the noises...
Not laughing anymore?
Thought so
I just laid there staring
Right ontop of him
Dead silence...
I panicked
shoved my fist in his jaw
I felt his bone crunch
Now he doesnt have a screaming face
Wow....
You think thats deep?
The guy right next to the kid
Was his dad
They kept him alive to watch
As his son burned
then became death
and soon a fossil
And when they chunk this place again
He will be dust
...His father
He was right there
...To watch
Now read those last three lines
Again
In Slow Mo
Read it and weep
Maybe the tears could drown
A father who is still there to watch
And spare him of the "Madness"
"Well,if its what you want to call it.
I mean you can call it unfair
Inhumane
Insane
But its just Mad-ness"
I bought a box of truth from a peddler down the street,
even though he told me its veracity might sting.
I handed him a stack of bills and asked for a receipt.
The box was wrapped in violet silk and tied with silver string.
I gripped the lid with shaking hands and paused with bated breath,
even though he told me its veracity might sting.
The truth inside the box was even uglier than death.
It slapped me with repugnance and assaulted with its stench.
I gripped the lid with shaking hands and paused with bated breath.
I closed the box in panicked shock and struggled not to blench.
Receipt in hand, I hurried to return the wretched truth.
It slapped me with repugnance and assaulted with its stench.
I found that lousy peddler selling boxes from his booth.
He studied me with sympathy and eyed my violet crate.
Receipt in hand, I hurried to return the wretched truth.
With fingers clenched in fury and a heart awash with hate,
I bought a box of lies from that peddler down the street.
He studied me with sympathy and eyed my yellow crate.
I handed him a stack of bills and asked for no receipt.
Inspired by Joseph Mays limerick contest.
(not for contest )
-----------------------------------------------
A mischievous chef known as McMurray
For a joke put Epsom salts in the curry
The toilet door he did lock
The customers were in shock
He left by the back door in a great hurry.
An astronomer by the name of Pete
Was perving at the lady cross the street
Full moon he did spy
But not in the sky
He got caught and went as white as a sheet.
There was a dodgy plumber called John Blake
No plumbing skills was a bit of a fake
The wrong nut he undone
Panicked went on the run
Now downstairs of the house has its own lake.
A randy teacher called Fred O'Hare
With a young girl he had an affair
But she told her dad
Who went hopping mad
Now Fred is getting medical care .
There was a very weird poet from Bude
Loved to sit out writing verse in the nude
A wasp stung his manhood
Screamed out as you would
Doc said that's what you get for being rude .
Humpty Dumpty always sat on that wall
Except for the one time he had a great fall
So always but once that anyone can recall
Which is why today is a big deal after all
Since Little Bo Peep had lost her sheep
She wanted to ask Humpty to take a peek
If he could see where she should seek
She could round them up within the week
He wasn't on the wall, she rang Missing Alert
It sent shockwaves far and wide and overt
The Three Blind Mice scampered in the dirt
Three Little Pigs squealed like they were hurt
Next thing you know, Little Miss Muffet,
Told Tom Thumb to find Humpty or 'ef it'!
Three Little Kittens told Jack Spratt to "Stuff it!"
Itty Bitty Spider crawled the wall and jumped it
The Old Lady Who Lived In the Shoe
Panicked about what to do
Earlier she and Humpty had a rendezvous
He fell asleep and now had no clue
Most all those in Mother Goose Town
Heard Humpty was missing, wasn't around
Everyone was afraid he fell down
All were searching, wanting him found
Jack In the Beanstalk knew of the tryst
He told the Old Lady they would fix this
They covered up Humpty, he didn't resist
Henny Penny yelled, "Sky falling!" and insists
Hey Diddle Diddle got the cow to jump
And dropped Humpty on the wall on his rump
Starlight First Star said he looked like a lump
Even The Owl And Pussycat were stumped
She remained silent amidst the squeaks of the bats
Sleeping on the hostel bed, she dreamt of winging like a dove.
Her tears were blended with the blood of her chopped childhood.
Her mother's lap seemed to be the only place away from humiliating world.
Rain drops never fell on her umbrella and her feet never peddled a bicycle.
The winter snow never kissed her blanket and her only companion was her mom.
When she cracked jokes, her back was badly bruised.
Relishing the taste of her favorite chocolate made her starve that night.
When her friends danced in rain, she feared the thunders.
Watching her favorite TV show turned her a dark room prisoner.
The telephone in the boarding house never sang her name.
Saturday evenings never welcomed her into the visitor's room.
Her honey dipped concerts never sweetened the souls of her beloved.
Bed time stories never quietened her panicked breath.
Her questions were unanswered
Her screams were unheard
Her jokes were uncelebrated
Her pains were unattended.
Slowly,
Her sensitive heart was replaced by a sensible mind
Her unsung emotions turned into powerful words.
Her immense thirst for affection ended as she embraced and drank the juices of self love.
Years of her inner struggle finally endowed her with buoyant wings.
That innocent soul who was once called a thief,
Now stole a million hearts with her ink.
Panicked trips down the rabbit hole goes as follows,
Far beneath the depths and hollows.
Way before first breath of plaque,
Meaningless so void and vague.
Til death you see we meet again,
Born to die and live to sin.
Time is out and toll the bell,
Body in the wishing well.
The truth of lies is in between,
No justice here, no peace is seen.
Make it stop, please go away,
Forget the past, you rue the day.
We are all alone no one to blame,
Count your years and spell your name.
Ride your bikes and play a game.
Earn your keep and your father’s name.
The ship has sunk and now we float,
No need to send a rescue boat.
For I shall die here anyway,
For I shall die here any day.
I’ve dug too deep you see I’m blind,
I’ve lost my soul I’ve lost my mind.
There once was a farmer called Mr Brown
Who with his duck in tow went off to town
The duck panicked and quacked all the way
The farmer had his fill and left the duck in the dray
Then disappeared into the Rose & Crown
There once was a duck left in the dray
Who settled down nicely in the hay
Then farmer Brown he did returned
To the noisy duck he had spurned
The duck had three golden eggs lay
The now inebriated farmer Brown was elated
On his newly found wealth he then debated
The duck was relieved in more ways than one
Otherwise off to the market she was gone
Thinking of her fate had he not waited
There once was a farmer Brown and his duck
Who both could not believe their newfound luck
Farmer Brown on himself a new tractor did spend
And the amazing duck got herself a brand new pen
Not strung up with her feathers ready to pluck
Some modern folks, when they hear his name,
will roll their eyes and look ashamed,
thinking the cowboy is uncivilized,
with his hats, and guns, and round-up rides.
That somehow they are beyond the stuff,
to good for the wild, and the rough,
following some unwritten ‘elite’ law,
suppressing the urge to shout ‘yee-haw!’
But I think when it all is said and done,
cowboys are truly made of awesome…
Riding swift across the wide-open plains,
coat flapping behind like your horse’s mane,
maneuvering a large and panicked herd,
turning a stampede with iron nerves,
rough-hewn men cooking by the firelight,
coyote chorus yips through the night,
knowing that for all the wind and grit,
it sure beats sitting in an office.
A battered hat worth more than any pearl,
grabs the attention of the cowgirls,
boots that announce you in any room,
be you a mere hand, or fancy bride-groom.
Leather vests that dress up any shirt,
and somehow can even make fringe"work,
a bandana or a wild rag,
with a thousand uses, not a mere fad.
The tell-tale jangle comes from your spurs,
vast coat made out of buffalo fur.
Square-dance, line-dance, twirl a girl around,
to fiddle and steel guitar’s sound,
campfire songs to entertain the kids,
harmonicas to sing the blues with,
teaching the folks to throw a lasso,
then breaking out tricks with swirling rope.
Living life by a strong honor code,
one that good people would do well to know.
Wyatt Earp and his famous revenge ride,
Masterson cut Dodge City down to size,
Doc Holliday gambling with a death wish,
Billy the Kid, criminal, yet tragic,
Wild Bill holding those aces & eights,
and old Kit Carson, out blazing the way,
Buffalo Bill brought the people a dream,
and who can forget, the legend Bass Reeves?
A six-gun at ready, holster right side,
the lines of a Winchester, ever sublime.
Ranches that sprawl on mountain and prairie,
riding the trails where man can breath free,
rampaging rodeo, those guns are fun,
and damn can those barrel-racers run!
Living out of doors, by both skill and luck,
be it on a horse or a pick-up truck,
It’s clear that when all is said and done,
that cowboys are truly made of awesome.
Great Spirit whispers on breathing breeze; 'It is time',
puce plume in saffron noon signals hunt's aborning,
ThunderBeasts' harrowing hooves erupt Great Plains grime,
soon will ail, widow's wail like a wild dove's mourning...
Ancient wisdom, ebony eyes, high cheekbones wide,
buffalo, he knows, mystical foes who fight back,
astride, he rides his Spanish horse with native pride,
his soul cleared, spiritual prayers 'fore the attack.
Timeworn trails, bison beaten by shaggy stampedes,
hunting grounds feared and revered, tribesmen o'er the brae,
power potent, cloven cloud, hastened heart proceeds,
ambush laid, panicked herd, embrace the bloody fray.
Casualty's chance, horseback dance, drum lethal hoof beats,
thunderous trample of ample prairie crocus,
Sioux and beasts' sacred throes, their crimson flows 'neath feet,
death has a way of bringing life into focus.
Susan Ashley
October, 24,2017
~ Third Place ~
Contest: Tribute To Native Culture
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
(Why I'm Still Breathing)
When the cow was dry, she was compliant.
When she calved, she turned vicious
and no fence could hold her,
but she gave milk in abundance,
and Dad refused to sell her.
She chased Mother 'round and 'round the barn
until Mom panicked, climbed the corner logs,
and perched under the roof,
clinging like a cicada shell on a weed-pod.
Beasty pawed and bellowed until Dad came home.
"I could gain on her on the corners,"
Mother said, "because I could turn faster,
but she gained on me on the straightaway."
Plug-ugly tore through the fence,
into the garden, where Mom and I worked.
"Run, Cona Faye, run," my mother shouted.
How did she know? The cow passed Mother
and thundered straight for me. I ran.
At the fence, snorts filled my ears. Hot breath
steamed my back. I saw myself stomped,
pulverized into the dirt. I turned, screaming
at full volume, and flailed my arms
like a windmill in a strong wind.
That old red cow locked her front legs
and skidded like a freight train on full brake.
I seized the moment, and scaled that rail fence.
1. Remember that first day we met?
I hadn’t hardly wakened yet
When I walked in the church’s wooden door.
Then I saw you beside a pew;
I hardly knew what I should do
So I stood firmly rooted to the floor,
(Chorus)
Because I saw the crosses in your eyes,
Reflecting in their depths that seemed to look through me.
And ever since that moment of surprise
You’ve meant everything to me.
2. A year flew by on fleeting wings,
In that same church exchanged our rings;
Tho’ I can’t recall a single word I said,
Or what I wore, or what I did.
All I recall is two eyelids,
And two eyes that I was looking at instead,
(Chorus)
Because I saw the crosses in your eyes,
Reflecting in that bluish-green I love so much;
And while I stared, and thought, and fantasized,
I realized our lips had touched.
3. When two more years had flown on by,
Remember when you knelt to cry
In the graveyard just down the grassy hill?
I led a brief and panicked search
Until I found you by the church;
There I stopped, and the whole world became still,
(Chorus)
Because I saw the crosses in your eyes;
The smallest one a chiseled cross so cold and grey.
I’d carved it for our daughter in the skies,
Who we’d only had a day.
4. The time has really ticked away,
That all seems just like yesterday;
Now I lie on a bed and will not rise.
But, Dearest, I’ll be doing fine
So long as I a window find
That will look to the churchyard from the skies,
(Chorus)
Because I’ll see the crosses in your eyes,
Reflected in the tears you’ll shed beside my grave.
And Sweetheart, just like I’ve done all our lives,
I will whisper, “Please be brave.”
5. And when you meet me there someday,
If there’s a cross where angels pray,
I will reach for your hand and take you there;
And as we kneel and fold our hands
I hope our Father understands
Why our eyes are wide open for the prayer—
(Chorus)
Because I’ll see the crosses in your eyes,
Reflecting from the pretty girl I love so much.
And all I hope is that I will realize
When our silent lips have touched…
Because I’ll see the crosses in your eyes,
Reflected from the pretty girl I love so much.
I am in my house,
With a panicked mouse.
Coming back from the fridge
Going through the sand-ridge
Into its hole in a jiffy
Then squeaking out - Yippee !
Then come two rats
With a hard pat on the back
Running along with its mate
Making things obfuscate
Around the bagful of nickels
Crossing the jar full of pickles
The rat and its mate came back trotting
With a block of cheese that was rotting
After some time in a line
Came a parade f rats and mice
With and hats and lice.
Everyone was mournful
But a mouse eating a mouthful
Who was happy and glad
Was making everyone sad.
He ate with nosh
Wearing a hat that was posh
After hogging and stuffing
He got up puffing,
Ready for his quest
Sqeaking good bye to the rest,
He leaped across a runnel
And ran into a thicket
Never to be spotted again.