Best Provokes Poems
Featuring: Keith :)
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Fresh sand garments
The Mental Colosseum floor
Self-infliction's--waging wars
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~ AND THE POEM BEGINS ~
A mask, tiny holes
Breathing heavily
Dancing around my toes
Broad carbon steel
Safe behind my will
Equipment of revenge
Fencing the world with my eyes
I bow, with the morning dew,
My mind a dual in its own world.
When the curtains lift,
I prepare myself with a weapon--
Epee Crest to protect my chest
A sword sharper than fangs
I circle my blade around the door knob
Ready to face the world
Practicing --in hopes today, I won't retreat
“Fencers ready!"
ATTACK!
A magical knightress
Painted in white
"Let's dance!"
~ THE SHOW BEGINS ~
Queen Amri "VS" The Damsel
Wishing it was over
Stainless steel echoes
“Every poke counts”
Hoping & Taking
No room to disengage ---I retreat
Peacefully I secure my stance
On Guard!
I lean in, I disengage ---I flee
Back again, I lunge
The Queen is too smart to retreat
I -Amri, parry away from the argument of the lunge.
Recoil & Double tapped
In and out….. I'm struck
Boldness---
Back to the drawing board
On guard, I stand like a statue
Out of breath; feels like I'm dying
Yet I am still fighting.
The Queen knows what to do.
TODAY~
I Yield, She Wins!
Raising our foils
---At the on guard of another day
I move in swiftly, cutting like razor blades
Using refreshed energy
24 / 7
I attack, She provokes!
Sand runs its course
Victorious against the queen
Touch – tied – triumph -- Touché
Standing on my own 2 feet
I am the
-Grand Finale Show-
Conquering The Battles Inside
TODAY~
-I WIN!-
by; PD
I took umbrage over a comment in a current blog, in part stating that poetry, "... is a battlefield..." No. There should be no gauntlets thrown, no darts hurled, and no negative words hurled as if Poetry Soup is a battlefield. I was motivated to write...
Over and over again, blogs become a wallowing hole
where ugliness brews contempt and always takes a toll
on those who are trying to make a simple observation.
Someone takes offense and that provokes confrontation
by a tadpole who'll be a frog and not Prince Charming.
Ya know... the narcissistic type who think it's alarming
that they're ideas are not accepted by others on the site.
Then, it's "Katie, bar the door" and get ready for a fight!
Pollywogs keep swimming in rippling waters of the Soup,
where they take a dump, but don't think of it as 'Poop.'
Blogs are sandboxes where nasty words become litter.
Catty remarks are made by the arrogant and the bitter.
Not surprising, the same ones cut up with their mocking.
It's the same MO they use when they come a knocking...
knocking on new blog doors and causing a ruckus inside.
That's crossing a line that no one should ever take in stride.
Some abuse blogs, as if they're churches or synagogues.
If any part of Poetry Soup should go, it should be the Blogs.
Not as some redundantly claim, should be poetry contests...
Objected to by rallying sponsors and poets in fervid protests.
Blogs serve as playgrounds but break all schoolyard rules
when some can't stop themselves from acting like fools.
There's fighting and tugs of war... never for a good cause.
Gettin' tough over trivial stuff puts a pinch in their drawers.
For gosh sake, act like adults instead of flakes and nuts.
There's never and excuse for acting like a rattlepated putz.
When sorrow overwhelms you,
And, pain is like the oldest friend,
Remember, when you’re down,
This isn’t where the battle will end.
When worries leave you fearful,
And, the clouds just won’t break,
Don’t forget – there in that sky,
Abides a peace that you can’t mistake.
When mourning seems everlasting,
And, grief prompts you to tears,
Remember, when you’re living in shadows,
There is hope beyond the worst fears.
When regrets follow you so closely,
And, the guilt keeps you feeling remorse,
Don’t forget – there in spring’s sigh,
Shines love that our dreams will endorse.
When anger leaves you feeling so dreadful,
And, the suspicion provokes your wrath,
Remember to forget all the uncertainties,
Sincerity and peace are the stones on your path.
When discouragement overwhelms your spirit,
And, darkest despair quiets your inner peace,
Don’t forget your true feelings will remind you,
Deep within you God is creating a masterpiece.
When melancholy seems to haunt your spirit,
And, the dusk overshadows your dreams,
Remember to cast your eyes to the perfect skies,
Where joy and hope seem to go to extremes.
When an aching comes over you, just trembling,
And, the unsteady words just won’t speak,
Don’t forget, love is always with you, defending,
Even when you feel drained, you’re not weak.
When your thoughts are filled with troubles,
And, your mind is your worst adversary,
Remember, all but One of us is flawed,
Only Jesus, our Savior, is truly legendary.
When you think of all you have lost,
And the anguish seems printed on your heart,
Don’t forget, with the love of Jesus, there is hope,
Despite the hurt, you’ll find the peace He can impart.
When everywhere you go, everything you know,
Reminds you that this life is just so hard,
Remember that He is there, alive and well,
Offering you His saving grace – He’s the souls lifeguard!
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
quick depression into slow anxiety.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
swallowing pity of yourself.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
cold heat shaking your bones.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
aching brain, twitching veins.
It's the nervous breakdown
with explosive results.
Why the nervous breakdown?
Because too much knowledge provokes me.
Bring the nervous breakdown,
sadistic, painful enticing.
Stop the nervous breakdown,
I cant find my purity.
Hopeless enemies
of ones self slipping
into my mind of cleanliness,
polluting my being, turning
it into an everlasting jungle of mazes
containing horrible truth of
my family, my friends, my country.
I want it back.
I want it back.
I want it back.
My original self,
my starting line,
my old life.
Why has the essence of family tainted
what is theirs to enhance?
My head hurts,
it bubbles with the
honest to god reality
that is my creation.
Still the nervous breakdown,
here only minutes but already
it is acquainted with me.
Now I shall begin life anew
into an anxious depressed, shiny and new.
Old self being.
But if I'm finally used to my new attachment
then
why
does
my
head still hurt?
The air splits as jets rip the sky
as death pilots every flight tonight.
And fearing that everyone may die,
panicking people scatter in fright.
Harboring hate, oft levies steep tolls
in the struggle of east versus west.
For martyrs possess revengeful souls,
to that, human bombs can attest.
The sting of a bullet takes a life,
unleashing reality's nightmare.
But, severing a head with a knife,
makes killing a personal affair.
Standing on arrogance, we feel tall
till a mine strikes with its shrapnel bite.
And sold on right, we think we can't fall,
but a boy lies dead, lost to this fight.
Innocent blood spills upon the sands,
among the casualties of war.
And God-fearing souls wash crimson hands,
never knowing what their child died for.
(Quatrain)
2/19/2015
Crimson rivulets, felled from a need for pain.
They forget to scream, and instead a sigh reigns.
The blade that strokes.
Each murderous thought it provokes.
An attempt to escape paled and failed.
The stains embalmed.
The blade now palmed, for the wrist it may dash.
If it may, more blood doth it dash
An idea that pain is relief, how rash.
This hurt so much, could they not ever remember to move on?
Yet to this they fall pawn.
Somehow to it they feel drawn.
Their thighs and wrists well clawn.
Now they are gone.
Out of the silence, a single sound is born.
The echoing drip of the dropping drops of stained blood.
They pierce the unwelcoming night,
perserving eyes that receive nothing
but an unwholesome darkness,
hot accelerated breath scorches the
freezing air, as it penetrates
in entirety her raffish body while a
shivering anatomy provokes an age
of innocence, yet a stark awareness
of life’s tribulations, as she tucks in
her scarf, fastens her top button
before impetuously walking off into
the shadows to confront her next trick.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Seeing that deep rooted tree
founded in soils rich and boldly painful
Lay praise to worthy and spite to shameful
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Old souls spiral in his words like scrolls unfurling over cliffs
ancestors hardships ingrained in phrasing
Reminding, remembering, rejoicing...rebuking
That which you might not say
sprays from every line
Never just in saying his piece
but asking yours...provoking that warrior
we forget our place in days of complacency
padding around like finicky kittens
his urge is your roar and uprise
a write is but musings of our mind
unless it encourages yours
I've urged his rain to fall
as I will bring mine to amass
as should we all ...to flood and conquer
the settling of soil into stubborn unthinking sediment
~~~~A Tribute to a poet who inspires my mind and provokes my thoughts...L'Nass Shango
Bring The Rain!!!!!
Every time he picks up
his pen and ink
He is writing just for
me I like to think
This white paper is
our own satin sheet
His purpose is evident a
certain challenging feat
Each word elegantly
swirls with intent
Sentences coming together
being all heaven sent
Ink flows over my bare
flesh and each curve
Leaving me breathless
losing control and reserve
As his pen scrapes the
paper it sends such chills
Every period and question
mark ends new thrills
More passionately he writes
the deeper each pens stroke
Raising the excitement in
me teasingly provokes
Faster his pen artfully
brings on a reaction
When his pen releases its ink
in flesh tingling satisfaction
1st place
Strand Special 11 contest
Sponsor; Brian strand
a warning shot
triggers the clock
heads tick to every second
enters the flip of a magnet
a distinction to please
entropy finds a seat
takes the rein
broken strings gathered neat
provokes an impulse
the overture tumbles
pushes a soft warm breeze
leans in with an ease
steals the air I breathe
holds the key
Terry D'Arcy-Ryan
"It is so easy to make resolutions, but to keep them is an uphill task"~ By Poet
We take new resolutions on each New Year’s Day,
But never seriously stick to them and success ebbs away.
I am no exception and like many, I must sincerely admit
That I may break my resolutions, but will never feel guilty a bit
First of all, I won’t make resolves that would hamper my day.
In most things, I wish to have my own personal way.
But to good propositions I am open and never shall be deaf.
As all wish, when the year ends, I want to turn over a new leaf.
With novel schemes, I don’t want to be an exponent,
But I will not sit back like a couch potato and be my own opponent.
When someone provokes me with words and actions rude,
I wish to stay calm, but excuse me if I blurt out a little crude.
I will try to do as much as I can, for time ticks away,
Won't wait for the last minute, which I feel is the right way.
Try to adapt to surroundings and move as quick as a wren.
Ramble through my garden and enjoy flowers now and then.
Spend more time with nature watching little objects and scenes.
Wander into meadows to get lost in the charm of sprawling greens.
Carry a walking stick, that at my age, even a small fall
Can break my brittle bones and into serious damage it can haul.
Though I don’t hope to be a body builder at my age
Will exercise daily, not with hopes of retracing my steps to teenage.
Once I was in good shape and had an hour glass figure
Though can't retain it, careful, from the mirror not to have a scare
Now with so much said, don’t ask me If I could keep my resolutions live
At the end of the year, if I am fortunate to stay sane and alive!
(December-January))
The brazen wind flows through the naked trees, where multitudes of scrawny fingers attached to stout limbs conduct the aria.
the trill of the dawn
awakes the sedulity
a sense of fragrance
Each perpetual morning a regimental instinct, drives along the day, when as the lone Bugler at his post, reveille resounds upon the streaming torrent.
the chill of winter
initiates spiral breath
fruit rots on the ground
The tempest from the Southern Ocean provokes nakedness within this place, destroyer to all that was verdant, yet an act of kindness? To ready life for spring to live once again.
through the morning mist
air is turning icy blue
the tide rushes in
© Harry J Horsman 2019
September’s serendipitous serenade
Evokes the ebullience of ecstasy
Provokes a prancing promenade
Tingeing the torrid leaf tips
Exacting an elemental excitements
Monumental majesty
Blue-black horizons blending
Exotically enigmatic exigencies
Ruby reds rollicking in the Rockies
John G. Lawless
©9/1/2018
So many times I visit sorrow.
I gave you my heart to borrow.
I've walked this path too much.
Evil as such.
Horrifying to grasp this love.
Blood covers the sin on my glove.
I feast a lot on pain,
Nothing but rejection to gain.
I love, but not love that should be.
I hide from that evil I so often see.
So innocent from the start.
Too stupid, too smart...
I cry for souls that are lost, mostly my own.
Love hurts, I should have known.
I fear the power of unity.
I crave sweet serenity.
The Heart of Lust, struggling to offer trust.
It conquers good,
Provokes evil,
creating a sensuous mood.
Why hide from power?
We are not the innocent flower.
Love is what I'm striving for.
Yet, the tunnel is dark towards that mystical door.
Sources of evil lusting for my soul.
Destruction their only goal.
Surrender to the unknown presence,
Feel it's dark essence.
Total destruction of body and mind.
Leave love behind.
Envision inner peace.
Embrace lust and ignore the desire to cease.
The truth is, we live a lie.
We must enjoy life, for we all will die.
Your soft and whispered voice ripples sighs
while you seduce me slowly in the night...
I drown my soul into your talking eyes
and leave myself to you...shy rays of light
caress your face, my angel in disguise,
and I surrender in your loving sight...
For what could be more tender than your sight
adoring each and every of my sighs?...
How could I not, my angel in disguise,
accept thy gentle kisses in the night,
when each and every shining drop of light
seems to be born inside your loving eyes?
Tonight I could find Eden in your eyes,
while you caress my skin with just your sight...
I'd simply dip in this embrace of light
of moon rays, and enjoy your tempting sighs...
And while you'd love me leisurely in night,
I'd love you too, my angel in disguise...
Oh, come to me, sweet angel in disguise!
Come, let me see the passion in your eyes,
while you possess my yearning soul this night...
Oh, come and open Heaven's doors at sight
with each of my complete enraptured sighs...
And let us step together in the light...
So let this love complete into the light,
and let me see you...drop your sweet disguise
and come fulfill my longing burning sighs!...
Oh, come, my angel! Look into my eyes
and be my dreams' most loved and tender sight,
come make me yours completely forth this night!...
For in your arms alone I’ll spend this night,
while making love 'till sunrise brings its light
upon this sweet enraptured lovers sight!...
So come, my heart! You need no more disguise
to hide away your tender loving eyes,
and proof to that you'll have my morning sighs...
The end of night is nigh...of your disguise
the only thing that's left are your light eyes
and their sight provokes my promised sighs...