Best Price Poems
Medicine Hat Appaloosa
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Remember free will too has been gifted,
with freedom allied to fate's fickle choice.
Tendered words uttered still..now uplifted,
God provides each one a life and a voice.
Ere life ebbs and scrimshaw scrolled hands beckon,
find strength in Medicine Hat horse's paint.
Flesh prized and spirit bold, yet to reckon,
respectful head bowed, pray it isn't too late.
Of sarcasm's sharp sword, one can ill afford,
cursed hubris' price which is never repaid.
The cost of soul's vows torn in broken chord,
word's sting or solemn praised tapestry made.
To cheat one's own heart with standard-less staff,
turned now to stone, to write lone epitaph.
Poet's note: The Medicine Hat Appaloosa is the poem.
Quoth TheRaven - 7 July 2019
We don't talk about it
Since hands upon the clock have ceased to move
When minutes creep, on skittish feet
The walls grow small~
By blue degrees, she drowns slowly
Waiting on skies which never clear
While she cuts holes in paper souls
Calling pain by prettier names
She is not invisible
Although she is unseen~
Cloudy skies have beauty, too
Dappled in blue's infinite base
But all the sunlight is full of smoke
Frost tipped flowers of summers fled
Into the wind of oblivion
Melancholy lullabies
Scattered like coins down wishing wells
Price of paradise
She lies and says that she is fine
When truth is too fearful to seek~
Here lies the grave of innocence
Guarding roses of agony
Too brief a heaven to reside
In vastness
We shall lie
Under a thousand eyes~
I am full
Of emptiness
The silence
Of severed hope
Sinking to
The floor of futility
Under the toll
Of heaven's weight
Distract my dark thoughts
New moon's amnesia
As the ground
Falls off my feet...
Her epitaph, an unsent letter~
It takes more sight
Than you would see
To love the soul
That belongs to me.
3/21/21
Fragments of Verse contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
Dancing with the sunbeams deep sea reflections
so beautiful adoring on cloud nine sitting pretty
upon golden sands shifting salt of the ocean turns
Each wave a blessing in disguise
standing regal one moment in time
looking back captivating starlight was born
Mirrors mist over arched jewels colour radiance
fixing thoughts on an image beholding your word
no diamond ever cut comes close to you
Based on the Scripture, 2 Timothy 3:3-13, which gives
warning to escape the snare of the birdcatcher.
On stage he struts in sequined costume
a plume of feathers cocked high on head
A thespian of no account, though in loud rant
his troupe boasts of his skill and talent
But the look of a clown is on his sad face
when he's alone. It's heartache he embraces
for he's aware that he's been misleading
himself and bleeding hearts
the extras cast in his show
Bravo! Bravo!
He's paid the audience to shout
as they stand in ovation
whistling for more; an unearned encore
He promises, "I'll support you all one day."
Foolish would-bes, presume without a doubt
that he's a man of his word, but that's absurd
for actors such as he never share the limelight
once the spotlight has shown on their faces
What price for his moment of glory
The highest toll one can pay is the loss of his soul
Each bow he takes should give cause for worry
that one day the birdcatcher will collect his due
Barter he'll pay for being haughty and boastful
for being puffed up with pride, his words all lies
for acts of unkindness, for being out of control
the foolish one must relinquish his soul
From ones such as he, turn away, turn away
and come to an accurate knowledge of the truth
His folly should be distinguishable for all to see
that those who have an appearance of godliness
prove false in the obiesance of God's Holy Word
Wicked ones go from bad to worse
misleading as though under Satan's spell
from them you should quickly flee
and save yourself from His condemnation
like the rebellious angel who long ago fell
My pearl of great price,
Will not be a sacrifice,
The love of my life,
My sacred wife,
Her named is Pearl,
She will have nothing to do with Earl,
Of the carnal world,
For she is strictly, My Pearl!
She is my wife ,
The wife of my life,
I married her when I divorced my youthful wife,
Of my mind’s strife!
She is the wife of my old age,
She has let my soul out of mind’s cage,
I didn’t meet her in my tender age,
I was not ready to hear her page!
When you personally find,
One of this kind,
A pearl of great price,
Pursue her for your wife,
By giving up your mind’s strife!
For she will not mate,
With an ego's persona of hate,
Neither will you enter into her narrow gate!
She is preserved,
For love, that deserves,
A husband named Freddy,
A soul in love that is ready,
So sweep your floor,
And weep no more,
Your pearl will open her door,
When she is totally shore,
You’re not looking back,
Toward the sack,
Of the mind’s scarlet,
Harlot!
Personally, I’ll do my part,
From my heart,
From the inner world,
Of my pearl,
For she is my Girl!
For the outer girl,
Of the world,
Is no pearl,
For she is a pigeon pouter,
Of the outer,
And thinks she is stouter,
In the outer,
World with Earl!
While the pearl of great price,
Has no vice
And she is meek,
But certainly not weak,
Very able to keep,
The soul of her man,
Within God’s plan!
Pearl’s inner meekness,
Does not mean weakness,
For it is the band,
without which a man,
Would not have substance of love,
From above!
Now when the mind learns to be meek,
Within his soul, he will seek,
Pearl's,
Inner world!
Time will,
Stand still,
Inside Pearl's real,
Deal,
And love will be fulfilled,
Within my Pearl’s inner world!
4-27-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
Russia's losses have been greater with their Ukrainian invasion
Compared to nine years in Afghanistan, another miscalculation
Many towns and cities in Ukraine are now being taken back
As Ukrainian defenders launch, a devastating counter attack.
At a river in the Donbas region the Russians tried to cross
But were met with fierce resistance and suffered a great loss
An entire Russian battalion with tanks and vehicles too
Have met with a horrific end, as Ukrainian missiles flew.
How many more losses can the cowardly Russians take?
But they'll never admit, that they have made a grave mistake
Their substandard ageing weapons are being put to the test
And are no match for NATO weapons, which are simply the best.
The first war criminal is in the dock, and his trial is underway
For an act of cold blooded murder and with his freedom he'll pay
He'll no doubt serve time in a prison cell ,for a very long time
But surely that is too lenient and he should be hung for his crime.
Russia will never conquer Ukraine and it's a war they won't win
The civilised world is sending a clear message to Vladimar Putin
Russia's botched invasion has now caused NATO to expand
Two more countries will now join the alliance, Sweden and Finland.
Russia is threatening the West and NATO, saying it may go nuclear
It's just sabre rattling on their part and they're trying to instil fear
Even if they launched their missiles, it would invoke article five
The Russian state would cease to exist and they wouldn't survive.
Russia should now do the honourable thing and admit defeat
And for Putin to give the order to his forces, in Ukraine to retreat
Acts of aggression won't be tolerated and the west will not give way
And if you invade a peaceful country, then a high price you will pay.
Written 15th May 2022
The mining villages of Wales
are steeped in history and tales
of sons and fathers, duty-bound
who earned a pittance underground.
For generations miners toiled
with picks and shovels, faces soiled.
Their throats parched dry and fingers raw,
black gold the aim, etched scars the score.
And mountains whisper tales of men
who failed to re-emerge again.
Or nevermore could breathe with ease;
Sad victims of black lung disease.
In valleys shaped by pride and grit
within the black and hostile pit,
black powder prowled and took its prey
but brotherhood did not give way.
11/11/18
'Black powder poetry contest' : Sponsored by Anthony Slausen
Your Choice (3), sponsored by Brian Strand
A ghostly image of a Soldier
stood in the background, as
a Mother with a babe in her arms
stood by a grave site.
She lowly whispered, "Father
this is Your Son. Son this is Your
Father. He gave his life so that
others might live."
Being a Woman and a Veteran I realize that women die and leave behind families.
I wrote this poem before Women were allowed into battle.
I feel a blockage has occurred...
It must have been all that stuffing and Turkey bird...
The gurgles, the rumbling, the passing of gas...
It’s beyond my control ,Oh dear, please let this pass...
We have guests you see...
So I don’t have the privilege to just get up and flee...
No one should ever be in this state...
And I should never have put so much on my plate...
Cause now I’m paying and to my demise ...
The rite of passage has been denied...
I feel like I may blow up and explode...
It’s times like this when you miss the commode...
Darkness falls blood swept fields today
Haunting sounds come from shattered bone
Stench floats, hangs from bodies decay
and cries are heard in fields of stone
Terrified men will turn to clay
Anguished faces that have no name
They are stepped on as they moan
No questions asked or feeling shame
Moonlight filters trees burned away
Hearts turn cold while fatigue has shown
Blood sticks to boots from the footway
Each man apart feeling alone
Sees his name on a gravestone stay
From this wanted war that they blame
As some scream out from deaths they own
No questions asked or feeling shame
Army of men cry from the frey
and hear whispered sounds, dead men groan
The cursed memories they will weigh
Men curl in darkness, fear has grown
They had to pass through hell's archway
and found no heros or acclaim
Only meadows of death they've sown
No questions asked or feeling shame
The anger comes, they can't postpone
Dead men's faces fill their mind's frame
Their nightmares now will set the tone
No questions asked or feeling shame
I changed ABABBCBC to ABABACBC
contest Ballade
4/28/15
The price we pay for our freedom is not contained in a man’s wallet,
Nor is liberty a currency found in a female fancy Gucci pocketbook.
It’s not in anyone’s liquidity portfolio investment bank records,
Nor is it contained in anybody's “Wall Street” premier trust fund accounts.
Reverently, the price we pay is not derived from ensuing wealth.
The red blood of freedom travels naturally in our veins—immutable!
Freedom has been ordained from creation in the lives of all people.
Liberty runs from heart to heart, inspires from soul to soul—sours like an eagle!
It’s linking parents to children, brother to sister, displaying courage.
Generations standing on the shoulders of generations—a fighting refuge!
The price we pay for our freedom and liberty—will never be free!
Historical accounts tried; produced no detailed cost—"It’s a sacred decree!”
The price paid has clearly left budgets—fragmented and unbalanced,
Red poppies blooming in the fields of courageous remembrance!
It has triggered aching souls, caused running nostrils, and weeping eyes.
Ladies wearing dark veils, and men black suits—great spirits that never die!
Uplifting hand and heads under the moon and sparkling stars at night.
Courage inspiring life in delight to continue the fight without—fright nor flight!.
Many look forward to more significant liberating inspiration to come.
Brilliantly embracing the shining new embolden golden rays of the rising sun.
Such a priceless premium runs in our veins and precious arteries.
The price paid for liberty and freedom is entrenched in our hearts naturally!
Have an awesome day, don't forget to pray, stay encouraged, inspired, ingenious, resilient, mindful, enlightened, and blessed always!
Happy July 4th to America's 244th Independence Day Celebration. "Still Leading The Way." Always Count Your Blessings!
© His Excellency, Ambassador, Professor, Honorable, Dr. Joseph S. Spence Sr. USA. (Epulaeryu Master)!
My heart has soared
and known true love
so now I’m here
my lover’s gone
Death has come
to claim his soul
death took him
in the night of day
And in the darkest
darkness of despair
left me bruised
too stunned with grief
Alone the two of us
I took my love
on his last journey
as far as I dared go
Death I could tell
was kind that day
as she cradled him
gently in her arms
With maternal grace
she held his body's shell
like he’d always been the special child
meant to come back home one day
For he had loved
as much as he could love
his heart was gold, his soul was pure
he’d given all he ever could
Time suddenly has paused
the world has stopped
there is no meaning
no rhyme or reason
I focus on the love he gave
abundantly and freely
and not on the abyss-ful void
that’s left behind
After all
was there ever any doubt
there’d be a price to pay
for having loved
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on February 21, 2022 for contest F-FORM FREE VERSE (DEATH) sponsored by CONSTANCE LA FRANCE - RANKED 3RD
The nurse ordered her to push, push, push
in her best proper voice
and linen balled in red fists knotted
and sweat falls from red face knotted
while Billy, head first, tugged and yanked by nurse's proper hands,
emerges, gently laid upon the blood soaked sand
motionless in the sulfur haze, almost well-behaved
amongst the rifle clatter and bewildered screams -
get down! get down! get down!
while Billy breathes slowly, undisturbed,
his eyes closed with new mom
gently caressing matted, cark curls,
her fingers, no longer knotted, extended,
Billy's tiny hands and infant fingers
grip the plastic ribbing
around the rifle barrel smeared in stickiness that flows out
from below Billy and onto sand, puddling, his lips chapped and parted,
suckling as new mom exhausted weeps
in relief of two arms and two legs and everything okay
as she holds him, hurting for him,
everything that might happen,
everything that will happen,
and she drifts off to slumber,
mother and child peacefully spent
in soft pretty colors
and the soft murmur of the television as the sedan
with government plates at the curb
and a Marine in dress blues (Oh, God) stands plastic in the doorway
and uses his best proper voice (Oh God, not Billy, Oh God)
to regretfully tell her,
and uses surprised hands to catch her when her legs
regretfully cannot hold her
and she sobs on the floor like a mother who outlived her son,
exhausted as the day Billy was born.
Screw this war.
it became a nightmare above all else,
enriched with cinders of an ashen dream.
the power of freedom asks a heavy price:
our intelligence is not all it may seem...
"The Price of Pearls"
a strange time
just as a dream
to a place of strangeness
strangers
walking contretemps' fine lines
composing invisible footprints
away from life
into the loud silence within
The Chronicles of The Forgotten
lost in the mists
oars plunging grave tomes in
The Tombs of Sad Poetry
some gently fierce
soft grey broken bad blue sky
reflected in a lake of tears
a sense of haunting
romance to allay
impending fears
acknowledging minds
for a short while
dipping deep within
the short measured
confronting uncomfortable
pools of sincere welcomes some sin
playing the forgotten
heart strings
light sensitive fingers pluck violins
reeling in the pleasure
swoon swimming the skinny time
with cool investiture
the Siren sings
dropping chords
divesting smiles, a serious business
arresting life, love and lust
sensual eyes read his
for good measure
where diaphanous
pages drop like
silken Selkie skin
naked she swims
to shore clutching
a fistful of pearls
wisdom comes
at the price of
freedom
lost in the depths
of drowning
all the ghosts
dead
reborn
in his eyes, they are
Her glistening
new Ocean
now her feet planted on the sure
Now the Lark Ascending
She opens the
locked door
symphonic pleasure
maestro is
leading
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Rachmaninov: "The Isle of the Dead"
Symphonic Poem Op. 29 - Andrew Davis
https://youtu.be/dbbtmskCRUY
Vaughan Williams: "The Lark Ascending"
https://youtu.be/ZR2JlDnT2l8
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selkie