Best Propelled Poems
Meeting my homegirls Wilma Neels
and Kim Van Breda with shrieks and squeals
hasty introductions and we're on our way
for a night of reading at Poetry Café
We've Yasmin to thank for arranging the meet
with fellow Soupers, a veritable treat
Yasmin the sneak had their names withheld
we're apprehensive yet still by curiosity propelled
My fingers are crossed to meet Eileen
fave poetess mine, the Passionate Queen
dare I wish to meet hamsome Ryerson
not to mention Anne-Lise Andresen?
On first glance the café seems somewhat rowdy
from one of the corners a chorus of "Howdy!!!"
heaven help!! I'm rooted to the spot
all my fave poets from the Souper pot
The Queen of Passion, my special friend
Eileen Ghali, an angel heaven-sent
with open arms and that beguiling smile
that's touched us all over thousands of miles
I spot our Father Christmas, Jackie Ellison
Oh my, mercy me, the hamsome Tim Ryerson
then the beautiful being, Anne-Lise Andresen
and our pretty young doll, Anne Poetess Currin
Andrea, crack writer and popcorn freak
and Nette Onclaud, Madame Linguistics
the talented and sweet Leonora Galinta
oh, for a long time I've longed to meet her
There's the much-loved Reach-Out Lamoureux
a stylish gentleman, delighted to meet you
our very own Linda who happiness spreads
memorable the day as Brown Licia meets Red
He who writes poetry with a golden pen
bestest, fantasticest, hamsomest friend
Rich-Heart Seal-ed Door, my bruv from abroad
by his smile I'm bowled over; by his charm I am awed
I'm jumping with joy at my fave poets meet
befuddled, bewildered; who first to greet?
midst the mountain of talent I'm on a positive high
overwhelmed, I simply break down and cry
This one needs a whole lot of polishing and smoothing
out, but I was too excited to submit it. I'll iron out the
crinkles soon. LOVE TO YOU ALL, LICIA
It has been one hell of a year for him,
so much denial
when propelled into the future
being he was forewarned as a youth,
‘it’s no fun becoming old’ by those
he would mimic as clowns
and now he, bemused while
floating within the mire of his misunderstanding.
There are reasons he is told,
although unsure he wants to know
when with one hand to grasp
at the life he once held,
the other besieged with tenacious pain
thrust into the unknown,
soon accompanied with his mind
to be totally immersed.
© Harry J Horsman 2017
REMEMBER JACOB
what is normal?
i’m back to it
with my back
to the negativity
a smile securely
in place, in place of
the fog that was raging,
raging strong…
fighting me (how
do you fight an entity -
you cannot see).
i pray, i pray
through day and night
night and day.
remember Jacob
wrestled
even with God -
he wanted a blessing.
a blessing i’ll take
but the enemy i leave
behind.
the enemy is often lurking
in my mind, propelled
by memories
that are touched upon
or by things
i shouldn’t see or hear.
we live in a fallen world
a world of turbulence.
even i, have trouble sorting it out.
i sure feel for those who are caught
in an unholy squeeze. sneeze
it out…bring it to your knees…
shout it out
with every ounce of grateful
thing you can think about.
turnabout is fair play -
play unfair with unholiness
cling to godliness. even if
we suffer dislocation, like Jacob,
our disorientation all gone -
the sun with its warmth
of healing touch.
3/27/2023
Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak…”Your name will no longer be Jacob. It will be Israel because you have struggled with God and with men and have prevailed.”… The sun shone on him (Jacob) as he passed by Penuel — limping because of his hip. (From Genesis 32:24-30)
Stars were twinkling high, glinting moonlit sky,
As missives of love on scarlet winds buoyed
Indulging passionate desires, enamoring pleas
Of elated longings, strumming pulse of glee,
Spurring romance, blooming heart’s dream,
As you arrived cheering fervid night of spring.
Oh, how I missed a beat, lauding your beauty,
When you enticed me, smiling affectionately,
Alluring with a glance that dazzled in promise
Of our magical evening enchanting, esoteric,
As together we propelled to world of fantasy
Beyond realm ordinary, scripting fabled story.
Alas! as we approached a paradise heavenly,
How playfully you blew a kiss, abandoning me,
On auriferous cul-de-sac of forbidden street
When you entered a glittering palace for fairies;
Leaving me in awe of a world ornate, unique,
A land of mythical vitality, of utopian ecstasy.
Beyond hope, beyond reach, as you vanished,
No path I could see past the forbidden street,
Trapping me where I idolized your heartbeats;
Perplexed, yet cognizant, here I would rather be,
Hypnotized in your reality of a flirtatious night,
Exploring reveries beyond cul-de-sac of my life.
February 21, 2023
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Ears pricked at car door closing in the street,
and focussed on the footsteps through the gate
she stepped into the hall, unsteady feet
they bounded forward, welcome couldn't wait.
Two forty pounds of fur, and sixteen legs,
four eager snouts and tongues shot through the air
her hands held up fruitlessly as she begged,
they brought her down, smothered her face and hair.
A canine/human ball rolled on the floor
propelled by laughter, barks and sudden shrieks
of love and longing, bottled up before
the time has come to leave, and no-one speaks.
Chorus of barking, followed by the whines
the front door closing for the final time.
R.i.P Angela Miles, passed away today but was allowed home
to see her Huskies last week for a couple of hours.
In open space free
Steel and glass enclosure
A small moving space confined
My possession of pride
Momentum propelled by young drive
A companion of trust.
The wingless bird
Tunneled timid air
Dust trailed the motion
Distance to sunrise horizon
Contracted like an accordion
Music under the bonnet.
Tread of twenty turning years
Took abrasive toll on patina of past
My adored Fiat Padmini senile
Rusted in immobile inertia
Old jalopy’s journey to junkyard
Raised the last dust
From the debris of my heart.
Written : July 22, 2019
May 19, 2020
Contest : Brian's Choice L
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Blackie mounts my broomstick every Halloween
With her silky coat and eyes of emerald green
We’re silhouetted in the moonbeam's gleam
Kitty meows so loudly if ever we are seen
Children point at us and let out a scream
Look at that black cat and the warty old witch
Blackie’s hackles rise, her meow rises in pitch -
I wish my black kitty had got a volume switch
We rise then fall as my broomstick gets a glitch
Suddenly we're both propelled into a watery ditch
Poor kitty's fur’s wet, bracken covers her left eye
We clamber from the water, and I let out a sigh
She meows like a banshee, I know the reason why...
as she's lost our big container of sweet pumpkin pie -
It’s her Halloween treat; I can’t bear hearing her cry!
Her meowing gets so loud soon it reaches a decibel
So I get out my wonky wand and repeat a magic spell
My broom flies out the ditch, the pumpkin pie as well
We both climb onto the broom and fly off to a motel -
I’m glad we got the pie back, or she'd make my life hell!
Halloween Meow Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
AWARDED POEM OF THE DAY 24TH OCTOBER 2020
10/23/20
He cursed himself for accepting the dare. He never believed in ghosts or haunted houses. He thought it was an easy way to make a few bucks if he spent a night in a haunted house.
Now he found himself in the most deserted house of the small town, reputed to be haunted. He had lain on his camp bed and hoped sleep would come soon. Certainly, he did not relish the pitch darkness of the house or outside it.
Without any rational explanation he found himself hovering between nowhere and the balcony. He saw all the houses of the town light up in a flash of multiple lightning. It seemed to him as if the whole town trembled as an earthquake rippled below the ground. The balcony seemed to disintegrate, and he found himself falling, falling, and falling right down into an abyss.
He wanted to cry in alarm. Sweat oozed out from all over his body. He woke up on the camp bed. He tried to get up but found himself paralyzed. The darkness engulfed him like a bed cover. Suddenly he thought he saw a flash outside the bedroom in the corridor. Lightning? He had no way of knowing.
Finally, he found he could move his hand and grasp the bottle of rye. The liquid seared his throat. It was not easy to drink as he laid flat on his back. The heat was now intense, and he sweated profusely. He tried in vain to pull up the bed sheet to try and wipe his face. The only thing that moved was his heart that was pumping away like mad. Relax. No ghosts about. It was only in the mind. Tomorrow he would gain those extra bucks.
It was then that he felt something moving over his body. In the pitch darkness he could not see what this could be. Suddenly a pair of malevolent eyes glared at him out of nowhere, seemingly without a face. Then he heard the growl. He wanted to scream but could not. Sweat poured down his face and his heart pumped away like a rocket propelled to hell.
His friends found him next day, cold dead, a small cat sitting on his chest.
Awesomely white, amazingly glorious
Bible Revelation Horse* --- victorious…
Carrying CHRIST from heaven celestial
Driven for tasks, divinely essential…
Enthusiastic, daring, energetic
Fulfilling well roles that are prophetic…
Governed by truth and wisdom of Scriptures
Hoisting faith along God’s kingdom ventures…
Instructed upon righteousness' great stride
Jumping over trials midst holy pride…
Kingly Saviour’s Horse bearing gracious light
Leading fellow stallions with goodness flight…
Mounting against evil for love to reign
Never neglecting duty of peace gain…
Optimizing strength as the Lord’s War Horse
Powerfully propelled by triumph force…
Quick to respond toward blest reaching-out
Readily hurdling tests of hardships- bout…
Steadfast and stable to smite sin downfall
Trotting above frustration neigh and call…
Upheld to ascend via kindness’ speed
Vanquishing hate by Master’s loving deed…
Winning favor of supreme Commander
X-ing out loss, praising Servant Leader…
Yielded to Creator Almighty
Zealous joyful Horse toward eternity.
*Revelation 19:11 And I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war.
October 8, 2021
(Abecedarian in couplet form)
3rd place, "A Notable Horse" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Liguori; judged on 10/14/2021.
I found him at the entrance of my youth and still,
as the friendship bloomed freely that summer day
beneath a sincere sky of blue we both chose at will
and propelled our hearts forward, with mainstay
He was darkly handsome with eyes of coffee brown
and his smile was attached to a pair of lips so fine
when he first spoke the flowers grew a pretty gown
and sang to us a song of love, as fine as April wine
And when the children asked , how did you meet?
we told them how the sun and moon began to glow
and how I recognized his soul so many years ago
through friendship ties that rose in sweet replete
He will always be my best friend, until the day I die
I know he loves me, and I never have to ask him why.
Dec. 11, 2019
The air was thin and icy.
It was dark and cold outside.
A blanket of snow covered the ground.
The footprints in the snow led the way.
We loaded the bus one-by-one as if we were animals entering Noah’s Ark.
Statuesque beings sat motionless in their seats.
Twenty pairs of eyes half-open stared blankly ahead fixated on nothingness.
Our journey to the unknown was about to begin.
The bus tired spun in circles like a child’s merry-go-round.
Round and round they went like the thoughts in my head.
I felt like a kid at the circus.
Excitement and freedom swept over me like a cool, summer breeze.
The road was long and unfamiliar.
Time passed by so slowly as if the earth’s stopwatch had been turned off.
The once frozen bus was not swimming in a sea of hot air.
Our final destination was a small, almost-deserted town in Upstate NY.
It looked as though a plague had swept through like a giant broom and devastated it completely.
One after the other buses pulled up.
A sea of yellow painted the once dreary canvas.
Girls of all shapes and sizes descended onto the now colorful landscape.
All dressed in tan britches, black boots, and smiles.
The clan of riders filed into the ring like a colony of ants all with the same mission.
This was my first mission.
I was a soldier going into battle for the first time.
The ant colony gathered in a circular formation.
The sign-in table was engulfed and swallowed whole.
Numbers were being handed out, one-by-one.
36, 17, 41, 54, 62, 12, 19, 38…
The judge’s voice boomed over the speaker like the voice of G-d.
Every crevice of the ring was filled with the loud, unclear syllables.
Girls of horseback walked proudly and calmly into the ring.
Horses arched their necks and pranced around as if they owned the world.
Tails raised slightly, eyes beaming forward, chests massive.
Hours passed by like days.
My nerves built up like a roaring fireball in my stomach.
One swift leg-up from my coach and I am propelled onto the horse.
I land smoothly into seat of the saddle.
I am welcomed with open arms.
Together, as one creation, we walked into the ring to compete the mission at hand.
Twenty fifth of December, three thousand and four
and already I'm down in the dumps
we're round at the neighbour's via tubes that save labour
propelled by some hydraulic pumps.
We've exchanged all our presents and got them unwrapped
once again I've got self-cleaning socks
the wife's Kevlar panties, though they are quite scanty
are going straight back in the box.
I'm constantly goaded to eat nuts they've downloaded
they'll try any tactic to feed ya
but the problem, I quibble is that some have been nibbled
as they're passed around on social media.
We're looking for doorways or just any more ways
to find a quick route to get out
and escape if we're able, being chased round the table
by genetically modified sprouts.
They've offered a glass of Martian Pinot noir
and they tell me it's alcohol free
so there goes my boozing and afternoon snoozing
and waking up just after tea.
Grandma kids are teasing, cryogenic freezing
means she won't wake up until noon
to find grapes in her hair and a plum, God knows where
and they've blocked up her nose with some spoons.
Don't know why they have bothered with plates that can hover
it seems so bone idle to me
they could have just handed the pudding that's landed
on the light fitting just above me.
The custard's abundant but the jug is redundant
administered now by syringe
and so is the Brandy which, though is quite handy
prevents us from having a binge.
When later we get back from fresh air and jet packs
remembering when we could walk
I'll look back fondly then to those Christmases when
we just used a knife and a fork.
November 16th 2015
For Contest 'A futuristic Christmas', sponsor Mystic Rose
Tropical quadra plateau, Amazing bright sunny,
Glided waterfall Carrying happiness in their gunny.
Long nodding flower's joyously plumed,
Everbody waving happily, the herald bloomed.
Eureka, I love this heaven on earth!
Hazy perished hills, houses trenching at the outskirts,
Swaning over to the fluctuating peak of mountains, roosted with struts.
Orchid waftured, Clinging on to the cluster of flowers,
Precipitated rain was about to shower.
Gosh, it Stimulated my soul!
King of beast, sucking the sweet tempting fragranced juices,
Solitary alienate species including Honey bees mused badly abuses.
Fluttered wings, Struggling with them, Leisurely travelling my journey.
Fitnessed physically as if I am in an defensing army.
Situation turned to be horribly muddle,
Tremendously, I wanted to sort and excitedly cuddle!
Proud to have an Airfoiled wings of mine,
Antennate feature you prissily shine.
Rainbowis passion lying inside me,
Resourcefully mingled with music and dance, happening besides me.
Whoa,People got entranced!
People jeopardize the innate beauty,
Relishingly wanna do my duty.
Actuating my arms, Ventured to fly high.
Intended inspiration wanted to reach the sky.
Weaving the web spiderman thirstily trying me to catch.
Escaping from them I ran, prevented myself from getting snatched.
Ohhh,They had a Hostile faction accord!
Nature's beauty aspiringly propelled me.
Blowing wind, tactily sensisizing my skin,
Blushing cheeks, spilled the bean.
Nocturnal creatures will wake in the dark,
Aerophilically dangling around the shruby bed,before they bark
Stopping by sayonara, continuing my next stigmatic destiny!
By Madhavi
The Bullet from My Gun
I am propelled like a bullet from a gun barreling through space,
Through your flesh,
Through the time you have misspent on this Earth now ending,
Too late to regret the bending trigger of my gun.
I penetrate your vagina,
Your mind,
Your sense of inner self,
Tearing through your false resistance like a runaway train.
I cannot stop, I am momentum now.
Ripping through your many lives,
Decimating your hopes for the peace tomorrow that now will never come.
Because my trajectory is certain and yours is a wet pipe dream.
You are obliterated into fragments by the curling of my finger.
Now Isis will never find you.
Fear is still a man’s best friend:
And a little pressure goes a long ways.
The lunchroom fart
of turbo pasta
scatters garlic teargas
laced with meaty mystery
without mercy to
flatten cubicles.
Chain-reactions
of Tupperware battles
erupt to devastate
once discerning pallets
until hobbled by stabs
of shrapnel to the gut,
prompting an exodus
of mournful bodies
propelled along that cloud
of processed misery
to wander, ashen-faced
along the concrete void.