Best Railings Poems
I've constructed a picket fence around me to keep jackanapes out
Through pickets they can see me, but I never allow them to touch
private parts of me I keep concealed, and don't talk about so much
I keep whitewashing my fence, cleansing it from things left in doubt
When my boards become exposed to prying eyes that shouldn't see
I open another bucket of watered-down paint and reach for a brush
to cover the flaws, my faults within, and I am always in such a rush
to whiten and brighten the facade out front. The veneer veiling me.
There is a gate with well-worn hinges, but usually it's kept locked
to prevent invaders who would dare trespass on my every thought
Those who'd despoil my fence with graffiti and rip my boards apart
Hence, one reason why I keep a supply of whitewash well-stocked
I am the prismed reflection of my surroundings, including my fence
where no webs shall arachnids weave within my weathered boards.
I will apply a coat of whitewash to my palisade as the need affords
It is a beachhead between me and crawlers; my penury of defense
Twining around my picketed railings, grows a vine of climbing roses
The virtuous blooms are never cut to prolong each inculpable stem
They shroud malevolent fingers pointed at me that would condemn
I shrive every foible and failing that my whitewashed fence encloses
May 28, 2023
W T F Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
Categories:
railings, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
a city
hungover
wakes slowly
to silence
and lights that
keep watch
over night
the red
and red amber
the green
amber
red
on still streets with
no traffic in sight.
railings and
stone steps
lead down to a
basement
where graffiti
conceals a
locked door
and where bins
overflowing
with bottles
and chip trays
spew half eaten
food
to the floor.
a pigeon
whose body
attempts
as it struts
to try
to catch up
with its head
flaps and then
makes for
what looks like
the inside
of a sandwich
set free from
its bread.
as blocked grids
and clogged gutters
sip dregs
of drain water
left over
from midnight's
wild rain
there are blankets
in doorways
and the red
red and amber
and green
amber
red once again.
Categories:
railings, city, morning, rain,
Form:
Rhyme
A sword of the heavens did glean
From railings and arbors
of dead thorn and bramble,
where ghostly reminders remain
Fall droplets of blood ‘pon
a crimson embroider
left carelessly out in the rain
Our story begins
in a deep mountain valley,
a village so peaceful and free
When one day the darkness
did unsheathe its horror
with metal and death you will see
The army of Satan,
a wicked battalion,
Hell’s fire their sabers were forged
Dark Skeletal visions
in leather and armor
the depths of the earth had been gorged
With razor sharp weapons,
they slashed and delivered
such pain which had never been found
Through echoes of pleading
and lives quickly ending
in puddles, thick red on the ground
While women and children
were herded like cattle
in mass to the edge of the square
With onyx eyes leering,
midst snickers and cackles,
their captors insanely did stare
When on the horizon
a light brightly shining,
engulfing this nightmarish scene
A porcelain stallion,
its rider a shadow,
a sword of the heavens did glean
From steel hard as granite,
angelic depictions,
a handle of pure solid gold
Once heard in a fable,
when wizards were roaming
such power, the stories foretold
As swift as an arrow
he entered the village,
his steed all at one with the game
With blade silver glistened,
like lightning bolts flashing,
igniting a righteous born flame
Spinning and thrusting
as if a tornado,
a blur now incensed of the glow
With whirlwind fury
and dust clouded thunder,
he dealt them a terrible blow
The evil fueled army,
beheaded and fallen,
the villagers shouted and cheered
When to their amazement,
this heroic savior
as quick as he’d come, disappeared
So there is the story,
a sword made in heaven
is now part of history’s reign
Along with the rider
who wielded its honor,
and hopes he will come back again
9/13/18
Written for the UNSHEATH YOUR SWORD Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
Categories:
railings, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Bending the darkness
Look at you cowering, haunted by fiction
Shapes at the window of menacing tone
Tearing your hope into shreds as you lie there
Gazing at ceilings and feeling alone
Afraid to put both of your feet on the carpet
Hands neath the bed will be slicing your skin
Each tiny noise a volcanic eruption
Stalking your mind, it’s about to begin
Puddles of stench line the gutters of nowhere
Terror the class that has taken a seat
Staring at clocks on the faces of buildings
Waiting for dark so their bellies may feast
Appetites strung on a line made of nightmares
Low in the middle from gathering weight
Clouds overhead cast a blanket of secrets
Hiding the moon in its delicate state
Claws on the ground carry wings carved of leather
Eyes crimson red dripping stares at the door
Paint if you like for an X tells them nothing
Only when feeding they’ll even the score
Shadows on avenues lurk past the railings
Low tenor moaning their late evening song
Hide in the corners, but still they will find you
Cry if you must for it won’t be too long
Peer from the covers, your fears they are waiting
Calling your name in an echoed refrain
Lapping reflections from water so stagnant
Remnants of filth tossed about in the rain
Know this my friend, in a term used defiant
Answers aren’t penned in some book on a shelf
No fancy title with gold colored letters
All that you need can be found in yourself
Break free these chains that are holding you tightly
Open your eyes, there is so much to see
Breathe in the air for the sun it is shining
Shake off the rust and be all you can be
Always there’ll be someone bending the darkness
Pulling and dragging each star from the sky
Show them your wings spun of pride woven fabric
Give them a smile it is your turn to fly
You can beat anything you set your mind to
No matter what someone else has to say
Hold your head high, watch the monsters now fleeing
This is your time and today is your day
1/25/2017
Categories:
railings, encouraging, fear, strength,
Form:
Rhyme
Looking high up in the sky
I stand still in my balcony
Thinking and about to cry
Filthy thoughts are all that fathom me
I am getting high with the air
Thinking of the darkness
And giving the stars a blank stare
Shouting out my mess
And oh! I feel lucky railings are covered
I would have slipped
Bleeding yet undiscovered
And firmly gripped
My darkness would hold me
I knew for sure
Coz what lies inside me
Doesn't have a cure
And oh I could finally sleep
Without the worry of waking up
Maybe some would weep
Thinking its my windup
I wish I come back someday
When you stand in your balcony
You think of me as you may
And maybe then you'd be able to see
A world I have left behind
My footsteps above the stars
And deep inside your mind
You'd know the meaning of my scars
You'd know the meaning of my scars
Categories:
railings, 10th grade, anxiety, dark,
Form:
Rhyme
Walking deep into the woods we stumbled on an old abandoned place
A white and blue farm house with a wraparound dilapidated porch
Tall grass was overgrown and with many shade trees of oak and birch
Plant pots of dried up and decayed ferns left on the railings in disgrace
The black roof was missing shingles and caving in on one side
The front door a pale worn yellow with a climbing red rosette
I start to feel more anxious as I see a freshly discarded cigarette
We walk up to a large picture window to peek in, all fears aside
We see some old beautiful antiques covered in dust and cob webs
Below the wooden banister staircase is a beautiful tall clock displayed
I feel a chill up my spine as I hear the clock ticking, now feeling afraid
An old worn oriental rug lay under it in faded patterns of muted reds
We decide to try the knob to see if we can get in to explore
As I touched it I felt a shock and heard faint whispers
I quickly let go as my hand started to feel hot and blistered
I tell my friend we need to leave now I think danger may be in store
We walk towards the back and see an old woman weeding a garden bed
She stops what she's doing and turns around to ask us who is there
and starts slowly floating in the air and says to come in for tea if we dare
We quickly turn and start running toward the woods, screaming as we fled
7/13/2020
Contest: Decayed House Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
railings, horror, house,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
I still remember
slide down a polished railings
Autumn holidays
Sleeping until noon
Dance happily in the wind
No homework this week
07.10.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Categories:
railings, autumn, holiday,
Form:
Haiku
Gentle
snow falls softly
sailing on a nonchalant breeze.
Angels appear at the behest of playful
children as layers grow on railings and
rooftops. Stalwart evergreens
sway to a rhythm while
the swirling vortex
of flakes smothers everything. Calm hits
and we breathe relief until the next shake
of this globe in the winter that won’t end.
Categories:
railings, analogy, snow, winter,
Form:
Shape
an hour before docking
it was ice cold and freezing
as the vessel like scissors
cut clean through the swell
and the ship’s horn then sounded
and woke those still sleeping
startling the standing
and the seagulls as well
and the door opened outwards
on a windswept and dark deck
as a lighthouse and headland
appeared to our right
and the radar was turning
mixing mist with the morning
as we looked over railings
still wet from the night
and the lifeboats above us
were secured by strong davits
as we walked round the ship’s deck
to see what was there
and the noise of the engines
grew loud and then quiet
while the spindrift and windchill
danced wild with the air
and the lights and the silos
of europoort holland
shone bright in the distance
and focused our view
and we stood there transfixed
with our backs towards england
as dawn beckoned others
to stand and stare too.
Categories:
railings, journey, morning, sea, travel,
Form:
Rhyme
Family ties welcoming with warm bliss
midst kiss and hugs of every brod and sis
contagious laughter of exuberance...
exude our ancestral house we can’t miss.
Thus, in passing by an ancient abode
its garden full of ferns, and weeds-bestowed
decrepit roof whispers “I need repair”
we just sighed at the load along the road.
Evoking forlorn beyond grandeur-state
ramshackled porch hides against rusty gate
while antique door bearing rosette design
shows golden staircase railings of great weight.
Touched by the sight of the pitiful site
we know in our hearts, we should do what’s right
as now, we behold through our van’s window
home we pray* as our faith's dome of delight.
*2Thessalonians 1:11 Wherefore also we pray always for you, that our God would count you worthy of this calling, and fulfil all the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith with power.
July 18, 2020
2nd place, "Decaying House" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 7/19/2020.
Categories:
railings, blessing, christian, faith, god,
Form:
Rubaiyat
Whether it be yesterday, tomorrow or perhaps even today, we will all fall victim to the hands of sin.
May that be as deceitful liars, greedy thieves or through our judgmental eyes, it is inevitable.
For are we all criminals in search of honest redemption or are we all samaritans on an ever-swaying bridge with no railings.
Has it ever been a fight of good versus evil or just two forces trying to balance out.
We are people bred with values of hope, mercy and empathy, in a society of envy, jealousy and corruption.
It is so natural to want what we don't have, to turn against those who are different and accept others because we’re alike.
Are we now loving each other for the reasons we once hated?
How is it that our perception has become so distorted that to keep sane we put others and ourselves in boxes, trying to label all we see.
We have built the walls around us to define what everything is and to move away or to break them down, puts us all on unstable ground, when really we stand upon the fault lines of others.
Our method of bringing us together is tearing us apart.
All born were we, brought into the earth, blood and bones alike, each human with flaws.
We must be merciful for the right reasons, with or without the recognition and gratification of others.
We must not hand ourselves over to the straining grip of sin, because we were taught flaws belong with the crimes against mankind.
Fall because human temptations will make us all to succumb to sin not because the temptations others face have made you feel less than human.
Categories:
railings, bullying, corruption, emotions, poetess,
Form:
Light Verse
New city street
With the wink of an eye
and a shuffle of feet
We wandered about
down a new city street
Where vendors wore blue
with a tangerine sash
In hopes to look good
with no chance it would clash
Their carts were adorned
with ribbons and beads
And funny designs
made of cantaloupe seeds
They hollered and bellowed
and beckoned us near
And when we did stop,
they let out a loud cheer
They offered us products
like peanuts with cheese
And daffodil handkerchiefs
in case we sneeze
Belts made of feathers
with buckles in red
And weird little cones
you could wear on your head
We bid and we haggled
but always were nice
To get a good deal
and a much better price
The street lined with houses,
most two stories high
With windows like shamrocks
reflecting the sky
The balconies all featured
ribbons and bows
That hung from the railings
such colorful throws
Where women were calling
to neighbors across
For clothes pins and hampers
they hoped they would toss
They spoke in a language
so funny to hear
For what they were saying
was not always clear
The men were all mending
and tending the place
Their hats cockled sideways,
a grin on their face
The knees of their jeans
were all covered in patches
While they polished the brass
on the handles and latches
It seems they were singing
an old fashioned song
We tried to join in
as we walked right along
We laughed and we giggled
so much fun was had
But we had to leave
and that made us both sad
So we promised each other
that we both would meet
Again very soon
on this new city street
Categories:
railings, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
Before the snowfall
People decorated
Outside of their homes
everyone has a
Different theme ideacolor
Some do roofs tops
The lights bright colors
The bare trees are lit
While wrapped on the bottom
Bushes wrapped in lights
Stairs railings have lights
One or two strings
When it darkness
All lights will shine
Lightening the darkness
With the pretty lights
Categories:
railings, christmas, image,
Form:
Free verse
Common among us may not be everything
With some love, some hate, some passion, some disdain.
But when our hearts ignite inside
To a happy memory, a simple smile,
Or when we gently tap our feet to the beats of a rhythm-
We feel that one united fire.
So I’ll never back down,
There’s always a dollar, a smile, a love that I can share
With the broken hearted,
Whose smiles are frowns for in fear they’ve been matted.
And bitten lips stand, alone
Grappling with the railings of hope,
In the midst of a crowd, in the midst of the storm
They’re the legend, what we define beyond the norm.
We all are, within ourselves, without our strengths
Flaws and all, we fall, stumble to the ground.
Hold your breath for a second, breathe,
We won’t fail this time around
Even if that spark won’t ignite,
Keep on bashing hope and love together,
Passion will erupt at the center.
To be with, to know, not to live our dreams
But to make someone else’s happen,
We are what we chose to be.
Hope, we can hope in what our creator’s started
Still we stand, one, not many, a few
Grasping to a dream we all share, knowing one day it’ll come true.
Categories:
railings, inspirational, passion, peace, people,
Form:
Free verse
Four Two Nine Eight Washington Street
My childhood address
A place where neighbors were not afraid to spank us
And mothers handed out homemade cookies without fear
of being arrested
Four Two Nine Eight Washington Street
A place where we could hear Mrs.McGill's laughter day and night
Knowing she was watching her game shows, fancing herself on one
A place where neighbors took collections when people died
And fathers showed everyone's son how to fish and hunt
not just their own son
Four Two Nine Eight Washington Street
A small house, but filled with love
A porch whose railings usually housed six or eight neighbors
A yard full of marigolds and one lone cottonwood tree
A yard where the neighborhood children all played
"The ghost is out tonight" at eight p.m. and no one thought
about anyone being abducted.
Four Two Nine Eight Washington Street
A place that is much smaller now, that I am older and taller
But a place I can travel to whenever I want, in my mind
An innocent place.
A loving place.
A childhood place.
A safe place.
For sure.
Categories:
railings, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse