Best Poised Poems
in the field
between poppies
and dying
limbs
a pen
lay poised
pleading
with words
pressed
upon pages
lined with
youth's blood
beating rhythm
unheard
from now
silent hearts
grief flowing
with
inky sadness
into lark's eyes
metaphors
unnecessary
staring
into reality's
harsh face
the pen skips
a beat
as death claims
victory
yet again
another name
to silently
record
into history
and poetry is war
a war fought
through words
of emotion
begging an end
to tiny crosses
we don't wish
to visit
with declarations
that we will
no more
engage in battle
but the words
lay still
ignored by war's eyes
hungering for pain
to fill its chest
poets fight on
expressing anger
in narratives
to beseech
and each year
we read the words anew
of hope with sadness
and deep longing
for we don't believe
in the words
and therefore
they have no meaning
as war carries on
the pen remains
poised
to write the ending
with relief
and as the poppy
bleeds its red
into the sunset
the pen knows
it will never
win the war...
Wounded by his and her absence
All we knew to do was wait
In time emptiness melted to fog, until
Tenderness brought us tranquility.
At last, we looked to You, as
Rain spoke of change, and
Skylight touched us like a friend
Loyal to the end.
Nature itself sought to wake us to wonder
Over and over, we held the hands of hope.
At last, we looked to You, as
Rain spoke of change, and
Skylight touched us like a friend
Loyal to the end.
Marvelous minds moved you and me to see
One and only One Light, lifts us to life of ease
Rays of inclusion birth rainbow flowers
Each new day, we will lift our thoughts to Thee.
At last, we looked to You, as
Rain spoke of change, and
Skylight touched us like a friend
Loyal to the end,
O so loyal to the end.
*
scarlet w a ~. ~ .
v .~
e
s ~. ~ .
of love
caress moonstone f l
a
k e s of dusk ~
poised poinsettia
Poised in the void
Voids within our form,
source of joy’s bliss swarm ~
silence consumes din,
each time we begin.
Our triadic heart
is where we best start,
to hold still focus,
along love’s locus.
What’s here always was,
effect but not cause,
borne of choiceless choice,
echoes of our voice.
Plunge into the source ~
love’s our sole resource,
both self-existent
and luminescent.
19-May-2022
Deceived several
times, you err again, and
put up your debut kill.
*
A graphic escape,
of moon from the dark
clutches of clouds.
*
The blackbucks
get ready to leapfrog on the
first sound of shots.
Satish Verma
Hidden under crop circle
resembling an ampersand
hides sheathed silo - obscured,
said symbol adorned every armband
of national socialist, yet weapons
of mass destruction) bland
lee, blatantly ignored global pact
prepared from this once (bajillion
years ago) geologic bottomland
repurposed for a bomb bin able
(made in good ole US of A) brand
to release payload
upon given command
i.e. at moments notice,
the notorious brigand
usurped entire communications broadband
to stow and let loose by,
thee once upon a time pokey cowhand,
now chief of state tyrant,
sans military industrial complex edifice
where deadly warheads demand
did and trumpeted by "FAKE EVIL"
apprentice madly (ad libbing)
gesticulating, & expostulating to DISBAND
at once - to no effect
falling on deaf ears
as Doomsday Clock rhythmically
minutely gourmandises
cannibalizing entire webbed
world, whose former slender
(now stubby) baby grand
piano playing butter fingers
primed to press miniature
Taj Mahal shaped hand,...
(now a pause for infowars
commercial identification about Homeland
security threatened by migrant husband
and wife, especially terror unleashed
from baby, whose hood
loom doth not expand
much taller than kickstand),
Regular noteworthy poetic program resumes:
...but biological chattering multiplicand
the fiercest most critical operand
linkedin with scheme
asper deadly retaliatory reprimand
against leader of free world,
a hot headed note tory us
donning wig by handmaiden Shetland
knitwear, which Total Mortal Kombat
every man, woman and will soon understand!
KA-BOOM! Into a bajillion
(to the power of Googleplex)
goes civilization and discontents,
and since World War II
accursed with self destructive hex
hmm...mebbe terrestrial for
another species similar to T-Rex.
Right in the corner of her eye
A tear of joy bides its time
Aching to accompany laughter
To make the mood sublime,
Eager to prove its worth
To add a splash of joy
It waits for the right moment…
Is it a girl, or a boy?
Straddling is safe with grips each side secure,
but progress requires the flip flop position,
secured on one side or the other, not looking down or back.
It’s iffy to lift a foot implanted
with footholds secure in straddled camps.
To poise precarious with return annulled
to go binary with uncertainties, with flip or flop.
It’s yeah or neigh, not betwixt nor between,
for or against, not poised procrastinating
nor straddling serendipitous with free fall.
Like a climber, securing three firm grips before
letting one grip go, and reaching up for next handhold.
This keeps ambivalence under control,
stepping adroitly and securely,
without looking back or down,
making assertive progress one step at a time
on a three-legged stool.
Feeling like a winged one
Poised high above the skyline
looking down at the lights of this life
slightly timid of frail wings
Waiting to see His face
by divine grace,
heart’s burning yearning
feels here now within the bosom,
heart lotus blossom,
as an infallible sign
that our soul essence is divine.
16-August-2022
To be poised
In the night,
Like a serpent
Out of sight.
A single candle
Dwindles low,
For the poet
It must show.
His muse in
All her glory,
Inspiring him
Majestically.
Encouraging him
To greater heights,
She comes to him
These lonely nights.
Together they wield
The mighty quill,
On parchment made
From pure will.
The song of the muse
Is sung by many,
But to capture her
Spirit is yet to see.
Heart enlivens the void
by aliveness of soul,
no longer by fears toyed,
feeling blissful and whole.
09-May-2022
Naani Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
.
Calm and self assured
polished with glittering leaves
Eve stood by Adam
Sitting by the edge of her sullen lake
Hands around her knees
Holding on to her worldly dreams
She dips her toes to test what was to become
Drawn like flesh to bone
The water wakened her senses
This girl-to-woman burst within her
Filled with gumption
Laughingly she tossed her curls
Behind her shoulders
Jumped wholeheartedly
Then plunged into the icy waters
She wanted to swim
To feel her body's bliss
As she crashed splashing out
Then dove beneath the waters
And swam farther and farther
Away from the oh so familiar shore
So alive with each gliding arms reach
She felt her fluidity and power surge
She breathed with such joy
Her rhythm never broke
Faster and faster she freed herself
From fear and disappointment
Affirming as she shaped her body to water
Matching her spirit to master her stage
August 23, 2020
Woman In Chains Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Well, the path lengthened out
past any horizon
the crickets and cicadas
firing up their sweet strings
We headed toward heaven
that late afternoon
thin lines of sweat o'er our lips
fingertips poised to kiss
when the rains came
our jackets torn off
maneuvering for advantageous position
steam floating o'er faraway plains
~ August 16, 2021 ~
A Brian Strand 2 to 14 line Poetry Contest