Best Probed Poems
I rummaged through
the ancient ruins
and scoured
the carnage of our times;
I searched the scorching
expanse of the arid deserts,
I peeked into the crevices
of the broken hearts,
and probed the dark realm
of the deranged minds;
I looked in the dead ashes
of the funeral pyre,
I ransacked every nook and
cranny of the cemeteries
And forayed into the desolate
womb of the barren woman --
But did not find death!
I then looked at
the first flush of spring--
The blossoming flowers,
The fluttering butterflies
The humming bees,
The rising robust sun;
And found the hand of death.
I found death in the unyielding
faith of the trusting hearts,
In the ardent prayers
of the desperate souls,
And in the unbridled
passion of the heart;
Even in birth and
in the sprouting seed
I found the omnipresence of death.
yeah, I found death in life!
~'Death Shadow' contest by Justin Bordner
Categories:
probed, death,
Form:
Free verse
I went to the dentist today.
The lady who cleaned my teeth had hair fit for a Weasley with large piercing eyes to compliment. Her name is Sierra, and she is 22 years old.
She asked me if anything had medically changed since the last time I had came.
I told her about my chronic pain and alopecia.
"Is that all?", she innocently questioned. I told her about my anxiety and insomnia.
"What's that sore on your chest?", she probed. I told her about my dermatillomania.
She nodded and got out her tools.
Here, is where I thought the conversation would end.
I'm so thankful I was wrong.
She looked at me with her large eyes and told me that she too has anxiety.
She said she has PTSD from some family issues a couple years back.
She knows what it's like, how it feels.
She sat behind me and asked me how I was coping.
I thought she meant with my mental disorders and informed her I was ok.
The only answer I can semi truthfully give these days.
She asked me if I was sure.
Told me I have sad eyes.
Asked if all of it together was overwhelming.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Yes, it is. It always is.
The only word that managed to escape was yes.
She said that only people who have it can see it in other people.
I have it, I know what she meant.
She recommended certain Melaluca oils to help.
Recommended melatonin for the insomnia.
Said I should text her, call her, Facebook her.
Heck, even make an appointment just for the sake of talking.
She'd go on break and we'd go outside just so I could vent.
Shared with me an inspiring image she loved.
It is a picture of Jesus, smiling, holding his hand out to Peter after he's fallen beneath the waves.
How even though we fall beneath the waves, Jesus isn't disappointed or mad with us.
She said he'll always be there for us.
She said that she knows it's overwhelming, and hard.
But keep your head up above the waves.
She recommended I read a novel titled, "Redeeming Love".
She said it helped her immensely.
Somewhere in here she mentioned I have striking features, and pull off bald better than most.
So much love and compassion radiated from her very words.
I've forgotten what that kind of love feels like.
People who spread compassion and understanding like flower petals give me hope.
Thank you, Sierra.
Categories:
probed, anxiety, hope, hurt, sad,
Form:
Free verse
Once upon a stranger
A girl A well intentioned woman
With open and adorned soul
Askance behind silvered eyes and sighs,
Revealing her concealed seraphic smiles
In an unending sequence.
Yielded in gleams in day dreams,
With folklores and odes chronicling her unique meekness.
Once upon a moment.
I heard silent whispers fade
Within a bus on a starry August night
She stood up to take one last view
With hope gleaming in her heavy eyes
Half in joy half in fear.
Once upon what it seems
The empty streets the cold store fronts
In the stark of the night she fumbled and crumbled
In the heat of the day she struggled and saddled
Into the realms of unaccompanied paths;
A forlorn forest A dense city street
An unchained soul is caged
(By the ugly parodies of society)
In cells in the dungeons of her mind
She ponders on her dreams reality killed
As she walked through the shanty streets, accompanied by cheer and fond memories.
Once upon a again
Her hope lingers near;
To fill the void with beauty, Top a class of fifty.
Her dreams ignite cheer;
To rekindle the lonely, Build Hope for the needy.
An ebullience cradling every night, dazed with smiles lit by echoes.’
Once upon loop of forever after
Lamentations probed!
Between forced marriages and a broken home,
One demure in her succinct lifetime
Raped abused and ignored.
A predicament lurking for so long,
Gradually prancing into suicidal thoughts.
And her world took a dark turn
For the moments were near felt burnt
And she recoiled deeper into her shells
Too late for your remorse and wishing wells.
Once upon a stolen dream
Once upon a neglected childhood
Once upon a depressing stroll
Once upon an abusive womanhood
Once upon a forced marriage
Once upon time and time again
“A bowed head,
Seeking shelter from raging tempests”
And as she lies on her five feet mat deep In her sleep where dreams unfold,
The Queen rises once again with seraphic smiles in her ultimate paradise.
Photo credit: Darwin Leon “Rape”
Save the Queen!
Categories:
probed, bullying, child abuse, confusion,
Form:
Free verse
As I walked, one morning, alone, by the sea,
Thinking of nothing but myself and me,
I noticed, above the roar of the ocean,
A splashing, and thrashing, and foaming commotion.
My heart pounded madly, and adrenaline surged,
When a great, scaly beast, from the water emerged.
The creature stood glistening wet in the sun.
I didn't know whether to stand there, or run.
It turned its great head and looked all around.
Its red eyes like beacons, ten feet from the ground.
As it stepped slowly forward, the damp beach sand crunched,
And I wondered if I would be breakfast, or lunch.
Although the sea monster was at least ten-feet tall,
The look in its eyes was not threatening at all.
The creature seemed friendly, and curious too--
Wondering and waiting to see what I 'd do.
At last I remembered what feet were made for,
So I slowly turned, and walked back down the shore.
Now, strange as it seems, the thing followed me home.
It lay down on the porch, and I ran to the phone.
I called up some scientists, and they rolled on the floor,
When I said I'd discovered a live dinosaur.
But, to prove that they know how to play by the book,
They said, "Bring it on in, and we'll take a look."
Well, they probed, and they prodded, and they analyzed.
They studied its throat, its ears, and its eyes.
Then the great men of science, at last, made their call:
"Why, this isn't a dinosaur at all!
Marine iguana is the correct definition--
With a somewhat serious thyroid condition."
Categories:
probed, children, funny, imagination,
Form:
Life greeted Death
with an epoch
from the depths of dusk
with a dawn,
the sun rose lucid
with it's soft spotted infant rose
now awake,
hanging heavily harnessed
in the steaming swaying sky,
the sun's aura
lit the sands of the silent Sahara
liked an aged ocean of butterscotch beauty,
and the starch strung clouds
maneuvored like vanilla lace
avalanching outward
kissing the hips of the woven horizon,
my sight probed to ponder
the powdered blue glow
of the desperate distance,
where the shadows
of the dune's palms
insult the posture
of the ivory sanctuary
that sat balanced for sake of Bethlahem,
I sat megerly meditating,
watching the subtle creases
in the Meditterraniean Sea absorb the sliced brass shingles
that weave the waters wealthy,
as the morning properly transcended Westward
manipulating nature's maturity
by rambling roughly to the seas
for wandering waves of bolted blooms of blue
for the twinkle of a jewel
which sits on a stool as a star
as far as North,
soon the violet velocity of night
approached the set,
electrifying the ending day,
and the Sister of the Sun
landed on the sky's chest
like a sheild on a knight,
as I listened lightly
the Moon politely announced,that evening is back to stack
the black symphony -
J.A.B.
Categories:
probed, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
you …
came to me today
(from anon)
wholly untold to your concerns
but real enough …
I was plodding the beach, tending wounds
when you tossed your smile at
me from a shrouded sun
off whitecaps, bursting into dazzle -
echoes, alit
each a memory, recaptured
brief as a blink …
but I was transfixed, as always
immersed in your burnt ochre irises
gold flecks like shiny confetti, fluttering
they hadn’t held me since …
forever, really
and as then, the brilliance within
was unsettling -
a piercingly perceptive acumen that
probed, unchallenged
though your countenance always
smoothed the edges -
a bubbly exuberance and gravity
an eager affability -
thawed everything around you
and … everyONE
effecting the grandest of illusions
that whatever you aimed your attentions at
was your dearest concern
and your one TRULY careful involvement …
when in all actuality
we -
the matter and matters about you -
were just a multitude of
merry moths …
to your flame.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, June 8, 2023
Categories:
probed, analogy, imagery, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
They probed into my attic,
And were disturbed by what they found,
Accumulated years of cluttered thoughts,
And labeled me unsound.
They put me in a rubber room,
With chains upon my feet and hands,
They fed me pills to numb the roar,
And to kill my inner man.
The roar seemed to diminish,
I talked to flowers and to trees,
But somewhere along the way,
I lost the real me.
I look forward to my future,
But i really miss my past,
They tell me that im normal now,
Wonder if it will really last.
I remember who i was before,
They came to steal my brain,
Just a man whose heart was shattered,
Trying to deal silently with his pain.
I guess i didnt have the right,
To express my brokeness inside,
But theres no pill or institution,
That will make me run and hide.
I will always remember the good times,
I will treasure moments wrapped in love,
No matter what they think of me,
I'll always give thanks to God above.
I know one day he will rescue me,
And place on me a crown,
And he will wash from me the heartache,
Of the day that i fell down...
Categories:
probed, confusion, me, day, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Boko Haram came last night,
to steal a lamb for slaughter.
And began to fondle me,
my father lost his daughter.
As rough hands stripped me naked,
fingers probed private places.
And men without modesty,
took pains to hide their faces.
Chains shackled to my ankles,
my head's covered with a sack.
And I was dragged to a truck,
with hands tied behind my back.
For hours I'm raped and beaten,
along with others in pain.
Then I'm driven to their camp,
where they ravage me again.
Tomorrow, I will be sold
as a sex slave to a man.
And with no chance of escape,
I'll survive the best I can.
(Quatrain)
6/4/2018
Categories:
probed, 10th grade, abuse, africa,
Form:
Quatrain
The aliens landed in the wrong back yard.
Next to the apple tree of a hippie, and a bard.
I was a willing subject, which made them mad.
I like being naked, it makes me glad.
They probed my shoulder, they probed my knee.
They touched my butt, and I laughed with glee.
They turned me over and they looked at my neck.
I giggled and chortled, and thought ‘what the heck?’
They got really angry because I never lost my cool.
Then I had to get up and get ready for school.
They wanted to go along, they said they would hide.
I took them to school, but they could not get inside.
They did not have a key card, so they stayed out in the rain.
They got irritated that I was savvy and used my good brain.
The cops came to get them and put them in jail.
Their friends never found them, so they never got mail.
I went to visit them a couple of times, and chuckled and smiled.
They were truly funny guys, one red-faced, the other truly mild.
I busted them out and frankly, they gave me no lip.
They agreed to take me with them on their terrific space ship.
Categories:
probed, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form:
Free verse
THE BLACKER THE BERRY..
Misconception dims the path that leads her brown Clay
To shallow waters where she can never float like a butterfly but always stings like a bee
She is only good at germinating in dim waters like
Deep intellectual conversations
Always warrant entry into shallow society
Dictating that she could not have possibly been supple at first sight
She needed to be probed without pressing her buttons
It’s her stellar personality that beams like a floodlight in flood times
When it’s raining men but she can’t compete with the yellow flame
So she has to keep her battery charged
When she guides the men easily beguiled by the sparkling light
That has them having need for a yellow bone to chew even when they lack the appetite for it.
“Between us men, it is better than that organic fruit diet
The plate is too blackened by her sunned pigment”
The blacker the berry the sweeter her juice in private
While in public the males ride shot gun on the yellow ferry
It’s the societal Olympics where everybody needs to have the same shade trophy,
She the blacker berry watching from the sidelines while fixing her paint
A by-product of lightening products has her gaining first sight attraction
Because now she can quite be the woman to wear on his arm like a cuff link
Arresting other suitors’ attention because now she dazzles at night
And she can enjoy the benefits of her top coating
Even though deep within she is layered with insecurity.
***Written for all dark skinned beauties who feel less beautiful because of their shade of black
Categories:
probed, africa, body, mirror,
Form:
Blitz
I’m too tired to tell another story
About the pangs of reality
of my barricading delusions
and my spontaneous God given days
A long wait ;A fat fate
A nine day wonder that forever lay in yonder.
I’m bled out of verve ;high on adrenalin
I hated narcissism ,ignored individualism.
Am losing my creed hard as it seems,
No need for innuendos and cover ups
No gimmickry no false flags
I believe in theocracy,oneness of the most high.
I have been punched and bruised
Dead beaten and Ill stricken.
I've been a witness to sordid days
Happy years and bonfire nights
I once asked Santa for maiden
He told me " dude lets be serious"
I won't even bother Cupid
That naked winged baby wielding weapons
who even crowned him an angel ?
I've breached the rules
Threshed on everything with a head full of pain
Tried singing when broken
Only to realise my voice is even worse than my problems
In my fantasies I probed for honesty ,
Paraded with veracity.
But bliss is not a thing life guarantees
And I know this is how life in its entirety goes.
My imaginings are wilder,
Might soon catch a banshee
My nostalgias are inconsistent ,
And My health is really getting better
Will someday soon sky dive in Ghana
Or yet still rally on the Savannah
I sought levity in the midst of debacles
Only to find fury in endless spirals.
I stumbled on a prose
Lo! let me sip on its sweetened repose.
In my hands a pen a paper
so I can write away my woes.
recite it like a rhapsody or sing it like a hymn
As a form of consolation,An escape from reality.
Categories:
probed, emotions, funny love, heartbreak,
Form:
Free verse
Viola Fuller
1879 – 1909
For it is written in solemn Chinese ideography,
That two women under one roof spells trouble.
For indeed my life found trouble
And death quite early due to influenza.
I spent my leisure hours in China Town
16 miles to the west in old Los Angeles.
Spent hours in the mildewed shops and the seedy cafes.
Finding culture, romance and ruin in the moody moonlight!
Finding spontaneous spasms in the back musty rooms.
It is true Roscoe Settle found my inner source.
He probed for the truth of my deep hidden springs.
Riveting moist springs of passion and sexual majesty.
Together, as like intertwining tied ribbons,
We embraced the spectral fireworks of a multitude of shooting stars!
Embraced the soaring glissandos of life and love!
But in the end
I decided to kill him dead.
I could not bear for one more minute, the other woman,
That other thing named Lottie Gordon.
But it all backfired on me.
For instead, I killed his father,
One Marcus Settle: late of Whittier Town.
Forgive me Providence, for I have sinned.
But in my sin,
I have found eternal rest from my nagging jealousies.
Found eternal peace from the tortuous kisses
Of one Roscoe Settle!
Categories:
probed, death, life,
Form:
Epitaph
Sixty-Six years ago today a very naïve farm-boy left the Hoosier farm,
To seek adventure beyond the horizon since farming had lost its charm.
He enlisted in the Air Force, a knight in blue to keep the nation free.
My gosh! Come to think about it, that unsophisticated lad was me!
Since I was only seventeen, I had to get my reluctant Ma to sign for me.
She came from a Quaker background and abhorred all strife, you see.
Pa was ambivalent about the matter - just one less mouth to feed, said he.
I marched off to face the future, another warrior for our family tree!
Harassment began once I arrived at the inhospitable induction station.
Docs had me bend over, then stand, turn my head and cough for observation.
They probed and prodded and stuck needles in my arms for inoculation.
Oh! The abject misery and humiliation of it all just to serve my nation!
Next came the swearing-in where I vowed to uphold the Constitution.
A fiendish sarge then assumed command and began his nasty persecution.
"Fergit yer Mom, Dad and Maggie Mae" said he, "Yer butt belongs to me!"
Just hours on duty and I was homesick for the farm, pining to be free!
They put me on a choo-choo to Lackland AFB, Texas, for my basic training.
I was shorn of all hair - by now my enthusiasm and patriotism was waning.
Ah! But when I donned that Air Force suit of blue, I stood proud and tall!
If my pals behind a plow and mule could see me now! I was having a ball!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
That naïve farm boy went on to serve 30 years in the Air Force, retiring
1 August 1978.
Categories:
probed, humorous, military,
Form:
Rhyme
he rubbed his eyes
and said you just think that way
so you always have an answer ready
which may well constitute
a state of pure entertainment
with multiple jaw grinding orgasms
in a dog lick dog kind of world
at Cathode Ray's tanning salon
so what would it really take
for the union to lay down with the banker
I'm not sure high above the clouds
is the place to find anything
certainly not a mirror to be had
much less a cinema projector
with scenes of domestication
good god Reginald where
do you plan to put that thing
Reginald sneezed his false teeth
into his dinner plate as an augury
probed prodded palpated
looking for the intelligentsia
in the yellow pages
but they were yellow and didn’t stand out
their attempts to overthrow evolution
led to a cornucopia of calamity
at the crossroads of conundrum
traded their thumbs for a reliable statistic
the atmospherics garbled the transmission
and made anyone look like a prophet
left my friends hanging from lamp posts
adulterers heretics and infidels
cataleptics ablaze with legend
trained by biblical harlots
tending their hornet infested gardens
avoiding the irredeemably antique
and inexact to a criminal degree
in the war between belief and certainty
my script supervisor just pulled the plug
he's not from Sesame Street
he's from Bastille Boulevard
the artist is bait and accident prone
opaque as an 8 ball at high velocity
caroming through every nave and vestibule
bladder control found again
in the midst of bourgeoisie panic
a meditation of involvement
I'm going where
the disorder of discovery is tolerated
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories:
probed, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
The day that we left port, to new horizons we would sail
Knowing the dangers ahead, seafarers in the end we would prevail
Our journey from the Highlands from Inverness my home town
To Brazil in South America a new life to settle down
With charts of old we sail the seas
Passing the Antialtair Seamount with hardly a breeze
Our destination set, half way through our trip
Bridgetown, Barbados, on my elegant ship
We noticed a change a difference, on these high seas
Many nautical miles I've sailed but I've never seen ones like these
The sky had turned a colour I'd never seen before
Sporadic luminescent blues, like the beaches of the Azores
Our lookout suddenly shouts, dark shapes drift in the clouds
Before too long there is screaming, even the men cry loud
Swooping winged creatures descend, mouths agape with luminescent blues
Their tails whipping the swells, lacerating the waves we sail through
For many hours they probed as they swooped, a blue ball hovering over my ship
This is certainly a voyage to remember, to our new life on this trip
We finally reach Bridgetown, Barbados, my family and crew still in fear
When we sighted this land in the sun, we were deafened by our cheers
We reported in to the authorities, our run in with creatures unknown
They mentioned the Bermuda Triangle, and we were not alone
They have many reporting such as we, even fleets disappearing from view
To reach here as we have done, we are lucky, just one of a few
We thanked them for their assistance, as we set sail for our journeys end
To Vitoria a city so new, to our sawmill, our new life, Amen
As our world around us grew open, more tales and stories were told
Conclusions were never developed, maybe one day it will all unfold
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-16.php
Categories:
probed, fantasyday, life,
Form:
Couplet