Best Pillared Poems
Left tall and dry, lies the pillared maize forsaken.
Barren fields of corn, stand row by row.
When yellow ears have long been gathered,
a dusty crop has paid it's garnered due.
The dry stalks bend and dangle stiff remains,
and autumn winds return to whip batons and play.
The quiet fields tune harps and violins,
making harmony from husks, with swaying stalk refrains.
I STAND…
God gave me insight and I did not shy away.
I went in and found my life had been self-proclaimed.
My footsteps was not discourage to the discovery of self.
As I entered, my mind was not overwhelmed.
It was as if my intellect was two dimensional.
Therein, I pillared my mental domain.
My confessions was none.
I had lived a rightful life and no wrong had I done.
God fearing, I knew to put my trust in him.
He is my strength and salvation and never misleading.
I became fulfilled with the Holy Spirit.
I spoke in tongue via English.
My skin felt as smooth as a silk cloth.
My eyes liberated shimmering teardrops.
I was not afraid to expose my joy to the world.
Denotation was the impact.
The sun beamed in fortifying my essence.
I realized that my life was a gift.
In the middle of the universe, I stand…
____________________________________
Penned January 20, 2015!
I
O hasty zephyr blindly scuttles past,
O’er dry forsaken mounds with tarnished grass;
Between a pillared mountain weak but vast.
A force that bends and fashions broken glass,
Reflecting in advance, recorded path;
Stirring fervent as it rises to pass.
Transporting active seedlings gone with wrath,
Existent flora blankets naked floor;
Serenely downcast holds the aftermath.
Disruptive wind that blows forever more,
Invokes tenacity for longer life;
Upon engaged terrain to salty shore.
Melodiously blow away lifeless air,
With wild direction - breathe - devoid of flair.
II
Invading wind complains with beasts of night,
With howling moan that steals away a kiss;
Until the dawn that takes thee from fine sight.
Encroaching wind that sends away the bliss,
On wings that will not cease to be aloft;
Like thief of gloom, with not a thing to miss.
Thou dare to scream at loveliness too oft,
Transforming life to death and back again;
Can gently spread with love a soothing waft.
Assaulting wind declares where sites have been,
Along a beaten course that dip and turn;
Is carving grooves in mountains for new glen.
Thou swift impulsive move not grave concern,
Until all life has paused for gale’s return.
Copyright © 2013 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Third Place Winner ~ "Tera Rima Sonnet" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
August 9, 2013
Open aired and pastel pillared, vaulting the ceiling;
This bye to Paradise; & illuminating vision:)
Stand in-violate, in golden tones, in orange hues
in glowing aqua, do you colour my view,
The mark of Heavens promise, on earth:)
Expanding in an instant; you beam of Gods mirth.
A schism In prism; here ever to bloom,
Fresh from the Masters hand on the loom.!
copyright Joe Mavrick.co.uk
For P D's Rainbows contest:)
You can click to know more about this piece, thank you Joe..)
Town malls are cluttered with Christmas shoppers,
toting packages of last-minute-list-droppers.
Carols echo from high pillared ceiling,
leaving one and all with a charitable feeling.
Door frames draped with assorted Christmas light,
center stands a lit tree, what a glorious sight.
Children align mall walls waiting for Santa Claus,
to listen to their wishes and wants, just because.
Long grueling lines wind through department aisles,
confirming it is Christmas with occasional smiles.
Feet are aching from walks to distant shop,
shoppers sitting on benches, some refuse to stop.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Grandpa’s rustic, once crimson red barn sheltered so much and so many different things
From biting bitter cold, to cyclonic winds, and hard-drenching-down-pouring rains…
Great memories lie heaped, buried in antique red rubble and sifted gray ash
Decaying on open flat grassy plain along with the historic Civil War past…
The red barn was where I learned about his cranky, short tempered, milking cow
Never wander too close to hind legs for they will surely send you tumbling down…
The weathered red barn held fabulous hiding places for rodents, snakes, and me
I know its brave red heart protected me from countless accidents and waiting dangers…
I acquired great joy sliding down its majestic shingled low-sloping roof
Continuously riding into insidiously giant pillow-soft snow drifts…
Sacred memories of childhood absorbed in knot holes and immense pillared rafters
Echoing in the attached silo and milk room where laughter gathered non-stop…
Along the country roadside, down a pot-hole filled gravel dirt road, were neighboring farms
But not one barn could match the strength or beauty of Grandpa’s weathered red barn…
Copyright © 2010 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Fifth Place Winner ~ "That Old Red Barn” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Rick Parise
Dec. 10, 2010
I ride by it most every day- the ghost
that once stood real upon that lovely hill,
with winding creek, a sprawling velvet lawn
and pillared, wrap-around, fine spindled-porch
with wide front doors that led inside my home.
My home, where memories still fill my heart
of special times with family, all there.
The older loved ones, now long gone, also,
my childhood home, annexed, hacked down to be
the west ramp for the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge.
d opened in November 1963.
As Samuel saw vaulted Xanadu of Kublai Khan fame
In smoke-filled corridors of sweat-drenched Opium-eaters
Did I spy a vision so surreal as to render all my sentient senses to nought
And to replace them with a miasma of arcane thoughts.
I glimpsed of things most unimagined through vaporous clouds
Of effulgent smoke from wampums more confusing
than the peace of amity that it connoted.
Through numbing mind yet not fully suppressed
I beheld many-pillared corridors in a dazzling sequence
Of multi-hued columns - Doric, Ionian and Corinthian.
And through this tortuous labyrinthine maze ran
A languorous limpid stream off a meander
From an ox-bow lake, with a murmurous mutter
As it hop scotched the rifts on the floor.
With Cyclopean vision, floating wraith-like, in the distance
I beheld a dazzling high-domed hall,
The dazzle from a myriad gorgeous maidens
Each draped in dresses so diaphanous as to defy its definition!
And a prima donna sang in sonorous counterpoint to the susurration of the stream.
From up on high like a falcon flighted,
In anachronistic contrast I verily beheld
A jeaned and jacketed - Angelina Jolie!
It was then that I confirmed to myself -
My mind had truly busted!
THE CHANGING OF THE SEASONS
When summer ends, autumn begins.
The leaves fall from the trees.
Such a beautiful sight and done so spiritually.
Magical is the change of the seasons into the New Year.
I saw a red bird today and enjoyed her chirping.
Gathering food, she was on my window sill.
Pillared to be quite successful, her tiny wings went a flight.
The red beak is all that was seen as she entered the sky.
Absolutely beautiful is when the leaves fall from the trees.
Summer has ended with autumn’s inception.
I can feel the breeze.
________________________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 30, 2014!
In cold melancholy the spirit sings,
As angels toss their darkened wings,
Grotesques upon yon pillared manse,
Awaken for this gruesome dance,
Fountains spout their molten flames,
Whispering forgotten names,
With furtive glance does Time evade,
Memories to dust doth fade,
And moonbeams shine on frozen glass.
A hollow gong of rusty brass
Chiming from the tower stark,
Nestling in the unbidden dark,
Where songs of joy and songs of hope
Vanquish'd in some gruesome stroke,
Resound in halls 'twere never built,
As oak and ash do groan and wilt,
For naught is true but falsities:
Shall this night ever come to be?
fin - début
what human has created, sapien can asunder
it's not ours to keep forever defaulted
through ignorance, avarice, prideful blunder
it's only some created civilization after all
the neighborhood won't deny our urban renewal
the neighbors probably thought for a long time
but might think us uncaring, unmeaning or cruel
yet wish we'd "keep it down", maybe return to slime
maybe the lease is up, no longer to be penned
maybe the sheriff is here with papers to serve
maybe we're really - finally, at our wits end
with all of our crap piled on the universal curb
we've predicted for a long time now
some coming of some long overdue end
with pillared salt, conflagrating fires and
the certain demise of you and me, my friend
yet maybe this new task that we've found
that we stumbled over, can start tomorrow -
and help to insure that we're still around
to work it out, and get new path to follow
we've been balled up on this ball of dirt
we've been petty, bickering, trifling asses
but maybe we've got another chance to avert
certain disaster and redeem all of our masses
the cliff, the match, the fingered button
can recede to our memory of too close calls
if we silence our forked tongues of gluttony
and open our minds to beyond our own walls
in the company of strangers
in the company of stars
in incorporated company
to reclaim what lost, can now be ours
© Goode Guy 2012-12-12
Second sight in some infants, short tenure belies
Unbiased newness unpicks societal manufacture
To passers by, lurking spiritual assets recognisable
Pervading expression classifies their clairvoyance
Such was toddling dandelion darling, Aubergine
Unphased, observant, chillingly serene in nature
Cherubic smirk absorbed traits, antics compiled
Tea coloured irises brewed extracted evidence
Aloof by default, addictive was desire to amuse her
Surfacing sufficient wit to captivate earned pleasure
Complex humour her veracity seeking palate required
Ego's growth ensued causing her copper eyes to flare
Taut uncooked dough forehead bound words in focus
Incidental text in her proximity statue faced savoured
Without parental prompting, pillared wisdom widened
Constant calculation of her purposed component
Memorable eerie moment in Aubergine activity
I surreptitiously witnessed striking behaviour
"Don't tell Mummy, I was once burnt alive in fire."
She confided in her soft toy 'school' semi circle
Watching her calm revelation, mildly humilated
by my unfamiliarity with her zany brain's structure
Her sophistication held me dauntingly hypnotised
Haunted by her thirty month old pre life mystery
Written 18th June
( I just noticed today's date sounds a bit like 'Aubergine')
a word name I thought suited a little tot called Lexi
at a Day Care Centre I worked at a few years ago.
After putting this poem up, I realise
Aubergine sounds like Joan of Arc (Jeanne D'arc)
swapped syllables.
Didn't plan the poem to mention fire.
I had only the concept of outstanding baby girl when sat to write.
Radiance rains down from the heavens
In leaning lanes of luminescence
Glorious golden lyre strings glow
Against the deep azure's hollow
Pillared paths of beaming glee
Cradle the meadow magnificently
Sunshine streams past cloudy drapes
Illuminating these inclined escapes
Suppressed, sketch out a silver lining
Rather than send high hopes resigning
From eternity they stretch to emanate
Let bright light warmth disseminate
As they disperse divinity into the morn
Seep through my soul so I shine on.
Seemingly mystified presence;
Beholds every treks atop;
Blase art thee, earth born;
Stepping unchalantly o'er;
Bias thereupon my worth.
Traditional emblem certain;
Upon thee a carnal knowledge;
Restored o'er me by strength;
Unity of earth and sea;
pillared faith of existence.
Hence the merry rings;
Patiently waiting in vials;
Sands and sand becomes one;
Grooms kissed brides;
My unifying existence.
Turbulence comes with peace;
A reminder against disorder;
In deserts my dessert;
Every chaos for ignorance;
As I depart with the storms.
I wander but some say I roam
Travelling myriad mazes
For home.
When pillared pathways
Lead to love cold
I ascend the stairway stars
That unfold
From my miring mind
Momentarily
Dwelling where clouds hold my slumber
And skies hold my dreams.