Best Pealing Poems
I heard the chimes at twelve o'clock
Ring in a brand new year;
And beyond the noise of all the news
I listened hard to hear.
A chorus of lamentation
Ringing loud and singing clear
From many angels winging
Through the vault of heaven.
They sang of shame and sorrow
Of suffering and sin;
They sang of hope for tomorrow
That peace be found and guided in.
I knew of the many trials
That former years had cost;
And all the dreams and pleasures
That were wasted and lost.
With awe I heard the music
That came to me there;
The voices all came pealing
Through the stillness everywhere.
"Take away the shame and sorrow
Take the suffering and sin
So that a new tomorrow
May find peace be guided in".
Then I offered up a prayer
With heartfelt words I pled
For a miracle for the living
And forgiveness for the dead.
Then the echoes of the music
Softly whispered as songs were sung
They came with phantom voices
From the joyful angel's tongue
Take away the grief and sorrow
Of suffering and sin;
And in that new tomorrow
Let peace be found within.
At night rapscallions in my head
Refuse the coal that scorches dread
And peace, however light the touch
Calms the seas where dragons rush
The crescent moon, my dreams aglow
With love so pure, pearl ivy grows
Hurried heart that once sought fame
Must kindle hope née shatter shame
Above the sky where angels dwell
My pealing bark in prayer reveals
A moment filled with His relief
When light grows dim
doth vanquish
Grief
02/01/12
1:56am
© All Rights Reserved
Lost Echoes
lost echoes wander silent valleys
reverberations orphaned tones
disconnected from their source
long ceased – solemn call to prayer
wasted on the ears of the callous
dried on the clapper’s lips
no need to welcome revelers
invite the workers from their fields
the center of their lives resides elsewhere
frayed, dusty ropes hang muted
no hands to give them voice
soft winds and whispers fading
on the fallow fields of hope
dry, creaking, members
bowing under toneless weight
birds, undisturbed in their nesting,
coo in the conic complacency
of the hollow past
the world is deafened now
the last of the pealing bell tones -
lost echoes – wandering silent valleys
John G. Lawless
7/25/2015
submitted to –For whom the bell tolls – Poetry contest
sponsor – Debbie Guzzi
~Bells~
( The Bell )
Bells
I like them
All very big or
Small some are very old
Can find them in churches
And in emergencies some too
They just sound happy and sometimes
Sad
Bells
Are very sweet
And sound very nice
Toll in good bad times
I hear them pealing in
The distance with a nice
Sound giving time every day and
Hour
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
December.13.2015
~Author's Notes:
The "Bell" is a poetry style created by Dorian
Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on September,18,2010.
When velvet robins dive at night,
to herald new spring’s lit premiere
a chorus drools upon the lake;
enchanting waves to bounce along
and near a harbor, jasmines twirl
from lively notes of birds' refrain...
music pealing for spring's debut!
Jesse Rowe's One Stanza Contest
The ice-cold sun was hid
Behind a bank of clouds that came unbid,
Ugly freezing winds blew
Birds felt it all and flew
No place to rest, they knew.
The black cypress did their shelter forbid.
Beneath, lanes clearly showed
All tombs and snow covered the dead's abode.
Alas, their days were timed,
Their heavy hurdles climbed,
Their dirges were long chimed,
In heaven's eternity, they now rode.
Despite all I hunted,
The one tomb where peace and my love were granted.
I knew the number and lane,
Cold wind numbed not the pain,
Bereaved from my love was not a pleasant feeling
Especially when I heard the dirge bells pealing.
Saw her lovely photo,
Her sweet pale smile, and eyes were soft like a doe.
On the old tomb, I saw
A plaque, I stared in awe,
Her writing, without flaw:
That she loved me always, she had to show.
Placed 1
27 January 2023
Writing Challenge - B Word Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Perched on point of rocky beach,
Leaning into salty wind I reach.
Stretching my being's limited cry,
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
With my soul these waves pound and scream,
Surging, splashing, crashing, against a dream,
Let the Heavens know my spirit's nigh,
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
Reach out beyond the blackened cloud,
Covering my stars with ripping shroud,,
Peal asunder fate’s hopeless sigh.
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
My spirit surges on tide and wave,
Foaming 'round rocks of dreams I crave,
Pealing, appealing, He will hear us by and by.
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky.
For Contest sponsored by Dr. Ram Mehta
The task begins with awareness, and freedom without it is harmful. So let us not look back in fury or forward in panic, but rather around in awareness. By Poet
Let me tell you a story.
Can you Imagine a harsh quiet? Jeers sneer idleness,
or scoff to classify the ultimate sinful act of sadness;
or quashing irk for an eternal colossus of havoc,
perhaps the planet was spaed and will be ruined here.
Cynical scorn asphyxiates, cauterizing all life on Earth;
who can imagine how vile days linger eerie memories?
how often tongues are swelled with astringent tartness?
those with acidic sadness tease with a biting reply.
Soul was sunk on all live paws to quell a herd of verrucae,
could you kindly scan feeble shapes on a pealing day?
how would you handle a splenic tongue with an awful zest?
or apply on a scorching sting a horrible sneering welt.
Mortal musings slay my sight while roaming ruins,
I feel the pain, frocking seconds ripen fruitful minutes;
none to stop him, acidulous hours burn a swollen body,
did you honor your vow not to view your tears in public?
Or, to win, they select the nuclear light to avow the day,
scavengers swarming forbidden self-destruction zones;
where the war had started, it was awarded might;
whenever beguiling eyes and spite the sight,
I hate lethal viruses as much as a police car passing by;
I hate falling asleep at night as well as not falling asleep,
I hate the doorbell at night and massive storms,
I hate going broke or having too much money.
I fear being late and fear being the first to come;
I fear that all I yearn for might jeopardize others I love;
I fear death or a miserable existence for a long time,
I fear not adoring enough and being confused.
Slow slurps, wearing vengeful speeches bleary;
on stage atomic bombs were used to turn the sky purple;
Insouciance fosters the dreadful pulverization,
I should have dropped my Kyiv pass.
wabbling world......
2ND PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: April 17, 2022
Theme: War
Form N - Narrative - New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
At eventide,
Under the roseate glow
Of the receding evening sun
I sauntered down the road
To where my beloved dwell
Not far-off from my own abode
Fast by his threshold
A low moan issued from his room
I made open the unlocked door
And so I happened upon him
Mightily taking his mistress
My eyes grew wide in shock
I made as if to storm,
But then stopped
Loosed upon me, an exquisite pain
Felt with every fibre of my being
Soundlessly, I turned around
Post-haste, homeward bound
In great dolour, I walked onward
Carrying my enfeebled feet
Heedless of the lowering clouds
Lightning flashing, thunder pealing
Yet I walk onward
And so the heaven opened
Pouring, the rain
The entire me suffused with it
Thus I quiver in frost, yet
I walked my leaden leg in the drenching rain
And so the inky blackness of the night cast over me
The evanescent rain went home
Afterwards , I gained my shelter
All rain-drenched
I laid, inert in my bed
With an unblinking stare,
My eyes cast into the void
Benightedly, I fell in the arms of Morpheus
And I saw the door opened with a groan
Came in, my inconstant lover
He drew nearer and sat fast by me
I couldn't cast a look at him
For scalding tears welled up in my eyes
He pillowed my head on his chest
And nursed me in his arms
Touched his lips to my locks
Now patting, now caressing
My shoulder, my tresses
His heart beating pitter-patter
He held the nape of my neck
And with an undertone voice
Whispered to my ear
Forgive my failings, my Inamorata
You're a vision of beauty,
And you're my true love.
I harkened to the honeyed words
Falling from his silver tongue
My heart leapt
Thus, hungrily,
I bathed his lips with sensuous kisses
And I melted into his embrace.
I arouse from my slumber, behold!
E'en the murky darkness of the night
Has passed away
And the sun, smiling in the heavens
But my heart, still heavy with pain
Alas! Who to bring solace to my lugubrious tear-stained visage
Scarecrow Addict
Gritted and dusty
Powered by flack jacket eyes
Bootsteps through grey puddles
Flotilla of cigarette butts
Trash kicked aside
In a desert of litter
Seeking the soulless of death
Chattering on split lips
The grimy irk of air
Festoons the rink and rack
The floating black
Sucks unbidden
Horses into battle ridden
Scream through his lungs
Broken weapons
Filled with empty bullets
Enemies in their colours run
Demon angel
Of the iridescent metal
In the bars of sculptured hell
For the hot choke of alcohol
Has squandered his nights
And burnt his will
The vengeance of mirrors
He cannot defy
He has become
The man with the gun
And rabid dog bark
Is the music
The fang gangster rap
Chews on his pride
Coughs back and spits
Too many drugs
To fill his hate
As he seethes through the alleys
The ricochet sound of poverty
Slaps hard at the cold
Whistle through the doorstep
The vicious snide crack
Scavenges his chest
Scarecrow buckshot
Trammels his lungs
And coughs up plastic
Iron girders against shattered walls
Where the whole world threw up
His sick
Chokes on the disgusting chuck up
Of need
So full of promises
But still lets in the freezing winds
To whined up urine stained
In the pallor
The colour
Of his sky
Bandit warrior and loser
This brave young man
Watched this driven and ploughed memory
Eat away
By iron vice drag
Devastate his pale haired wench
Leaving blood trailing on her breast
Pimped
She was
And hate in grey battered uniforms
Drove the callous on
And lifted him from the reeking cans
Of his desolation
Bled him through nights of sweat
And cold turkey chewed regret
The plaster wet billboard and pealing advert
Have no idea
What they have unleashed
Brittle as long dead bones
And screaming head
No longer hates
But still sneers revenge
In tattered loose rags
He staggers from the vomiting pit
Emaciated wolf
The grinning scarecrow eyes of merciless
And the jagged teeth of candle lit
The reek of vendetta
Hangs ever about his lips
And woe betide the gun smith
Woe betide indeed the needles
Wet prick
Nothing left to fight for
Other than
A long dead
Lover
Bells
Solitary heart, newborn in brooding silence,
Steps on a cluttered path
Through elms and boughs of broken limbs,
In a pungent, evergreen hush
Absent of astral cacophony
That falls like mute pennies from wishes,
No buzz nor whirling wings
Disturbs the tacit spell
Until a faint and far-off chime
Brushes against my startled heart
Like the flutter of a butterfly kiss
For at my feet coral bells harmonize
With snowdrops in strings of chimes
Awakened by the breath of angel wings -
Music born of stardust carried on wind chimes
Banishes black spells in lyrical pinwheels,
Melodic whirligigs ringing in silvery silk jingles
Like crystal icicles brushed by soft winds -
A carillon of the winter angelus
Pealing in effervescent tiptoes to remain.
Perhaps their hearts will forgive me
the many loves I squandered
now an old dreamer's reflection
that floats upon the ripples that cross my mind
from the last stone of memory
I tossed into the dark depth of yesterdays
where the lost first birth of love's beauty
was kept hidden in the pealing trunk of carelessness
it's filled with old pictures of lovers
that posed for a brief moment in time
when romantic interludes were mistaken for love
my hands gray and trembling
turn each picture silently
remembering a world of sadness
and countless sunsets
that fell between the thin red of empty dawns
and days and nights where nothing really lived
the heart, once a vibrant cauldron
of burning flames of purple passions
consumed all thought and reason
and left a crying melody
which keeps playing in the hollow darkness
of once upon a time where tears formed waves
that crashed the heart's barren shores
below the darkest sky of their tomorrow
Perhaps, they have forgiven me
8/17/19
Fairies and Angels charm the environment still and calm,
Flowers and scenes of the season enhance the abode charm;
Weather wakes vivacious cold-hot, chill-warm, wet-dry feeling,
And shapes the Christmas season into thousand bells pealing...
Snow in cold regions, like spiders, weaves thick white blanket-webs,
Sun, forbidden, tries to peep like snail, from shell of snow-ebbs;
Fog in grey-white gown like tribal bride dreamily marching,
Clouds, randomly rolling, like melting snow-balls, soul-searching...
Fragrance of innocently smiling snow-burdened flowers,
Tender chill drizzling of heavenly divine-grace showers;
Bluish-grey, gray-white, reddish-orange disco-light stray-rays,
As though falling from Milky-way, to show humans new ways...
Though seasons seem docile as dead resting in deep dark graves,
Spring follows winter; summer the spring, breaking all closed caves...
23 December 2021
"The darkened sky stole my tears" Quote by Sponsor.
As the brisk morning light illuminates my room,
I feel overwhelmed by a foreboding air of doom.
Melancholy presence within every waking pore.
Is it I have been missing that someone I adore ?
Tears on my pillow were left there while I slept.
Wonderful memories of him so preciously kept.
Guarded by the night, for only dreams to recall.
Then why in slumber did these moist drops fall ?
The night keeps my secret? I miss him so much.
By day all smiles, while I'm longing for his touch.
Now this tearful tendency, I'm uncertain of why.
Remembering arcadian times shouldn't make me cry.
Mendacious vibes are now quite pervasive this morn.
Is it missing him? Is that the reason I am so forlorn?
Knowing him and his love, gives a euphoric feeling.
By day all smiles, loving him gives the affect of healing.
At midnight the clock chimes, twelve will be pealing.
The darkness of night, its my tears it will be stealing.
Deep in slumber and oblivious, I wouldn't even know,
If I didn't wake in the morn to find tears on my pillow.
Maybe in my sleep, I dreamed away all my fears.
Maybe "The darkened sky stole my tears"
Guarded by the night is it only then I cry?
Tears on my pillow, all that's left by the darkened sky.
~Bells~
( The Bell)
Bells
I like them
All very big or
Small some are very old
Can find them in churches
And in emergencies some too
They sound happy and sometimes
Sad
Bells
Are very sweet
And sound very nice
Toll in good bad times
I hear them pealing in
The distance with a nice
Sound giving time every day and
Hour
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
February.16.2016
~Authors Notes:
The "Bell" is a new poetry style created by Dorian
Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on September,18,2010.