Best Powering Poems
One night about 25 years ago
I was sat in my car at Cothelstone
Dx-ing on my CB radio in the wee hours
when my two dogs started to growl
every hair on their bodies on end
a most putrid smell entered my car
I heard the sound of hoofs churning
knowing it must be the headless horseman
I kept my eyes down as 't is said death comes
to those who look Thor in the eyes.
I was unwilling to drive away
as earlier I had erected an antenna
outside of the car fixed to a tree
the smell was almost over powering
and I could feel its gaze upon me
it felt as if Thor was willing me to look
my dogs were whimpering then howling
no way was I raising my eyes oh no!!
'T was but an hour or so till dawn
slowly the smell faded and my dogs calmed down
As soon as it was light enough
I let them out and got the antenna down
vowing never again to spend a night here
thoroughly spooked by this experience
I looked around and saw churned ground
with clear hoof prints as the horse had
milled around my car, calling back my dogs
who gladly jumped in, we drove off
I have returned since but only in daylight
DX-ing long distance radio contacts
this is a true story there are many tales of Thor the headless horseman who rides the
hills from East Quantockhead through Shervage Wood past Will's Neck through
Cothelstone to the Quantock edge and back all agree if you look into his eyes within
a few weeks you will be pushing up the daisy's. All I can say is I have seldom been so terrified
Categories:
powering, fear,
Form:
Free verse
"Women are traps
that lay for men
everywhere"
said Franz Kafka,
"in order to drag them into the infinite."
Maybe.
But why not,
Women are incense
that invites men and other women
and all genders everywhere
into the in-between infinite
EarthMother incense
invites
omnisciently enlightened
AnthroMind,
omnipotently empowered
EarthBody
CoPassioning
FatherSun
MotherEarth
integrity
Lighting fragrant dawn
powering fertile dusk.
Categories:
powering, beauty, love, sensual, sexy,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
hub of our nation
paralyzed by hurricane--
nature dominates
Categories:
powering, natural disasters,
Form:
Haiku
In our mild climate, we're more apt
to find a Christmas rose
blooming in our garden
than any Christmas snows.
Yet some lucky years it happens
and the snow come just in time
to cover up the fall's debris
and thus this little rhyme.
On Christmas Eve it started
in soft and fluffy fall.
We watch with delight the changes
as it covers over all.
Each flake so small and trifling
yet joining with the others,
it becomes formidable and bold
and envelops all with smothers.
The beauty over-powering
under day or nighttime skies,
is a wonder world of purest white,
and a sight to mesmorize.
11/30/14
Categories:
powering, christmas,
Form:
Rhyme
Doubts fill my head like a floating stream
I am pushing forward, but quickly running out of steam
Why am I doing what I’m doing? What even is the point?
As weariness pours over me, every bone and every joint
I’m not the best at anything, even if I try
But I keep trying to be the best without a reason why
Every day I strive, searching for a new result
But nothing changes, I’m still the same
Consistency’s insult
Insanity is the definition of my situation
Going forward through this life without an inspiration
Happiness and feelings gone, I am a robot now
As I continue to push on, wiping sweat from off my brow
Everyone holds me to high standards and prod me on along
Holding me on a short lease, control over-powering and strong
But did you even care to ask me how this makes me feel?
You manipulate and use me; my pride is what you steal
I am not your prize for you to parade
I am not a pawn in your own little charade
I can run my own life and do not need your help
Your constant expectations wearing thin upon myself
I don’t need to jump through hoops in order to impress
My future now may be a haze, but you don’t need obsess
I know how to live my life without your consent
I know how to carry myself and don’t care if it makes you upset
Now let go of the reigns and give me back the wheel
I can handle my own life and I know how to feel
I may not be the man or son you wanted me to be
But you have to let go of control; you must let me be free
You cannot change my spirit or my personality
You cannot change my pessimistic mentality
I will only say this once and try to say it nice:
Let me be who I am and let me live my life.
Categories:
powering, anger, angst, anxiety, pain,
Form:
Rhyme
Feather to feather on a branch, this early winter morning,
Are they planning outings for the day or of grave dangers warning?
A predator comes swooping by, a red-tailed hawk in plunder.
As of one mind they fly away, not one is pulled asunder.
These are the winter birds that stay, to face the stormy weather.
They mind the rules of Nature and no one asks why or whether.
The ice and snow, the winds that blow, they do not stop to measure.
For what could be one bird's nothing, could be another's treasure.
The springtime finds them once again, assembled in large groupings.
They know a single bird can be endangered by hawk's swoopings.
The over-powering scents of spring, assault them from the orchard.
The butterflies and bumblebees are courting in the courtyard.
The apple tree is leafing out and showing her pink buddings.
The robin is digging in the mud and making her worm puddings.
My own body is a tingle at the sounds and smells and scents.
A bunny with his ears attuned, keeps watching through the fence.
When summer comes, life has progressed. Among the leaves, nests hidden.
Many a chastened crow has learned that to rob one is forbidden.
Mama and Papa Swallow have filled the needs of their first hatch.
They're teaching them to fly now, to make room for another batch.
The summer flowers are in full bloom, each vying with another
To tell the nectar searching bees, they're better than the other.
The bright red of tall lilies and my roses of red hues
Urge me to plant my gardens with some yellows, greens and blues.
At last in fall, time to relax and talk about the summer.
That Robin's eggs refused to hatch, they agree was a real bummer.
They're gathered now, in larger groups, to leave for other places.
The birds that stay, send them away with wonder on their faces.
A riotous bloom of dahlias grow where other flowers have faded.
The last blooms of summer roses are looking quite outdated.
The snow of winter soon will come to cover up my garden,
But hardy plants will live through snow, fall gave them chance to harden.
3/15/14
Categories:
powering, seasons,
Form:
Couplet
My garden is an art of splendour,
I behold her with all my gaiety,
A garden of flowers and hope blossoming alike,
With all its beauty.
The buds splutter,
The mystic mystery unfolds with its glory,
Giving way to the symphony,
A harmony of colours and sounds so deep.
The soft petals dances to the melodious hues,
Spellbinding the onlookers,
A riot of colours it is!
Pink, purple, red, yellow, green, orange, scarlet and many more.
The butterflies waver through the unending haze,
The bees buzz adding to the tunes of melody,
The chirping birds twitter incessantly,
It's a confluence of colours and melodies so sweet,
The master conductor is the wind,
It directs every soul in the garden,
To break into the euphoria.
The wind chimes tingle with delight,
As if to thank me for their site,
Along the trails I hung them so dearly from the lamp post and trees.
Amidst all the extravaganza,
A happy me!
Hopping and tapping on the stepping stones,
Twisting and turning through the garden coves,
Here and there a nest erupts
among the shrubs and trees,
To signal a new dawn.
What more can I wish for?
As I wander and ponder
Through the poppies, pansies, poinsettia and phloxes,
Salvias, sweet william, succulents and shrubs,
The over powering Gulmohar and magnolia,
Atop the jasmines and the bougainvilleas.
They are all there in my garden,
There is colour, there is sound, there is life, there is hope,
My piece of haven I call it,
A colourful heaven in all its right,
And a peaceful eternity in all its might.
July 29th, 2020
2nd position
Contest: Petal, Buds, Blossoms, Bees, Birds, Butterflies poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Categories:
powering, bird, color, flower, garden,
Form:
Free verse
The “Smithy”
Written: By Tom Wright
4/28/04
The anvil’s peal breaches the mid day air,
and his four pound hammer fettles the shoe.
At the forge’s cinders in thought I stare,
and listen to the wheezing bellows spew.
The portrait of a bygone period in time,
when the aproned “Smithy” was still king.
Massive arms, covered with carbon grime,
powering out tunes with a hammers ring.
The livery and spreading chestnut tree,
like the buggy whip, their time is past.
If solely for the sentimental like me,
“Smithy’s” memory will for evermore last.
Categories:
powering, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
“Fight for Flight”
Stuck in the shell unable to break out to see the sunshine warming the air I breathe
Struggling to smell the flowers planted in the garden for the neighbors to see
This darkness is so undeserving like the innocent killed by cowards
Trying to break free so the numbness I feel will melt into a feeling of life
Sacred thoughts of striving to see the world around me leaves my conscience lost
Accepting my failures as an individual has created a space between reality and fantasy
Living in a world with a desolate soul leaves the heart as empty as the room I lay in
The emptiness is over powering like the silence is so deafening
Living a life secluded from real life people has my mind asking if I’m really alive
Dreaming of those long gone leaves the salty tears slowly trickling towards downwards
So many feelings of lost days make it hard to smile even on the best days
Breathe Stephen is all I can say to keep my chest moving to prove I am life
I reach out my hands to grasp the side rails to pull myself to safely stand
Again I try yet the despicable me has found empty air instead of solid objects
Believing I am the failure looked upon by others as an untreatable cancer
I give up the fight for flight and allow my body to collapse in a heap upon the ground
Categories:
powering, depression,
Form:
Cinquain
The Ending Part of My Life, The Beginning Part Of My Suffering
8/02/10
By: Sami LaRose
The tears are over powering my view
Making it impossible to see into the moonlight
So many noises all around, when I just want peace and quiet.
I look at the spot where you used to lay on my bed, and a tear drips down my face
I can no longer take this, I am breaking down.
So many hidden scars, so many hidden journeys
You were the first one to ever read my diary.
I put my trust in you, knowing I was taking a risk, but at the time I thought it was worth it.
Looking back now, I wouldn’t change a thing
It all happens for a reason
Even if I am miserable now and you are happy
I rather it be that way anyway
Categories:
powering, depression, sympathy, teen, time,
Form:
Tyburn
My sky is having million stars, difficult to pick one in million
All having own shine, ranking any one sure to cause a rebellion
Yet, numero uno tracked by merits through process of elimination
Selection complete, its results time, my better half is one in million
Spoilt brat was I, uncensored were bachelor days of life
She stepped in, anchoring work and family as dream wife
Space and freedom she carved out with love’s knife
Boundless joy bloomed within new boundaries of life
She is mother of my children, my sky lit with two sons bright
Groomed in academics, sons featuring in India’s and State’s merit list
Nurtured them to evolve as good humans in world full of beast
High Moral Values embedded, family’s beacon ensured perpetual light
During my health scare, she was by my bed as Nightingale
Deftly coordinating with surgeons, calming kith & kin anxiety well
Science powerful tool for new life, her devotion powering Yama* to repel
Am fit and fine, enjoying blissful moments, gratitude to my Life’s angel
Am managing big in outside world, but at home am lost without her
Cooking, clothes, children, many chores she worships, never does she forbear
She holds the castle, hosting love, peace, joy, keeping at bay grief and fear
Not just one in million, but million virtues are in one - my dear treasure
(*) Yama : As per Hindu mythology Yama is Death deity
( Placed 8th in Members contest Nov 2010 – One in million by Linda Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.)
Categories:
powering, wife, sky,
Form:
Rhyme
Drivel
dribbled from those lips of ours
while climbing streets and chasing cars
peeling back our velum skin
removing duty, tasks again.
Drivel
trickled from our sanguine lips
reddened by a vibrant sun
infinite, treasured, playful trips
of youth perfected, minds begun.
Drivel
fueled creativity in our veins
more effective than any lecture
more durable than the double AAs
powering flashlights at bedtime.
Drivel
was never
just
Drivel.
Categories:
powering, adventure, friendship, imagination,
Form:
Carbon, deep, deep black in one form
Refracting light in another
Symbols of energy and wealth
Yet, still the same carbon on the inside
Three handed creature
Grasping hydrogen atoms, oxygen and themselves
Forming the hydrocarbon chains of food stuffs
Filling our bodies with the stuff of energy
Powering the mighty engine that never stops till life's last breath
Feeding through the inner pulsing red rivers the oxygen
Absorbed from the ocean of air surrounding us all
To keep alive the organs
The inside of every human being
Identical, indistinct.....one human from another
Until coated in a skin
Available in a variety of colors
From white to red to yellow to black and all shades between
And now we see a difference, where there is no difference.
ALAS!
Categories:
powering, black african american, body,
Form:
Free verse
Like a special commission
With no obvious due date.
So is one's salvation.
An assignment up to self.
An commission easy at sight,
But over powering in actuality.
A commission soon due,
Yet the date is unknown.
The due date,
Probation, is soon.
Let the righteous be righteous still,
Let the wicked be wicked still.
Then the Eastern clouds will split,
The trumpet of the King shall sound!
He will shout,
"It is finished! It is finished!"
Categories:
powering, bible,
Form:
Quatrain
I sometimes think that the oil is good.
For what if it all comes up in a flood.
It rushes in on every shore.
And life in the sea will be no more.
Then if you light a fire.
It will spread with the wind.
To beaches and fjords.
Like our greatest sin.
It is better to use it for a fellow cause.
In oil wells and oil fields. Powering us.
So that nature has time to swallow it up.
Before ragnarok happens. And we all will be lost.
Categories:
powering, mythology,
Form:
Free verse