Best Ramparts Poems
It starts with only one -
one like me
a melancholy migrant
from the immortal part of her
to the locus of her physical being --
the center of her emotional wisdom
I gain heartfelt strength as I gather my forces
rising up en masse
riding cresting waves of woe
to breach the ramparts -
the welling rims
of her loving eyes
it starts with only one -
one perfectly ripened drop of sorrow
this beautifully packaged pain
and a lustrous cascade of soulful pearls ensues
wept gems pouring forth from a pure heart..
I am the tears your mother cries.
Susan Ashley
May 5, 2018
~ Poem Of The Week ~
Week beginning Sunday, May 13, 2018
~ Seventh Place ~
Contest: Early May Premiere (2018)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Poet's note; For my beautiful daughter, Jocelyn, you inspire me with your light, joy, spirited determination and intellect. Though your academic pursuits take you many, many miles away from me and I grieve your absence, when you return home I shall celebrate with tears of joy!
For today, however, I'll let my grieving tears speak for themselves...
I love you and I miss you, my Jocee <3
As fiery beacons
Blaze
And cut through the
Night;
As restless sleep
Doth so tax and
Trouble me;
And I hang upon
A promise:
That my love
For thou
I did most fervently
Swear unto thee!
As icy comets roar
And sail against
The galactic tides,
Their streaming tails
Lingering upon a
Solar wind,
I will grasp
This one last chance...
To bare my soul
And chasten myself
From all my sins.
Then immortal wings
Will downwards sweep
From heavenly ramparts
Where divine Angels
Do so keep...
To gently raise me
To my feet,
And, softly brushing
The dust
From mine eyes,
Lift me high
To be seated down
Before the wise.
Whenceforth,
Hence so empowered,
Whilst slumbering
Fantasies
Once more take flight -
Unremitting and
Without respite:
When, passing through
Heavens doors...
To search you out
Across the sands of
Timeless shores.
Thus, finally, after
Stumbling
Across starry Aeons
Of an almost infinite age,
Throughout these
Many anguished trials
Of forlorn,
And seemingly,
Endlessly
Despairing days,
To overwhelmingly
Rediscover your
Presence:
Beholding your perfect
Form -
Suddenly and inextricably
Revealed
Before my wonder-struck
Gaze!
After enduring what feels
Like the damnation and
Curse of eternities
Countless years,
Now, heretofore:
How I shall cherish
And much adore...
This one true heart
Forever more.
Harvey Denning
1909 – 1923
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
I saw the face of God
Spread out across the sky
Like a million cities on fire.
Like Troy cut into little pieces
By the slashing sword of Achilles.
Cut to shreds and bleeding.
There on the ramparts
There inside the fissures and crevices
Of ten thousand unknown dreams.
I read the stories of Homer
And the tales of a thousand and one Arabian nights.
And I read the solemnly immortal words
Of Longfellow, Poe and Defoe.
And I decided inside my mind long before I died
To perhaps write the greatest story ever told.
But I fell from my tree house
There on Dorland Street
There in the cool shadows of the walnut tree.
What would have been my story I wonder.
What visions would I have conjured
For all to read and envision?
My friend, will you write my story now?
Will you take pen in hand and possess my voice?
Will you find the noble courage to speak for me?
This forgotten dead soul
Buried here in the dark dust of Clark Cemetery?
If you kindly consent,
Please begin it with these words:
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
We lived in a crooked house.
Built on a muddy mound of hope with the corpse of yesterday half buried beneath
Sad eyes and smiley faces. A gilded countenance to pair the four walled fiction – Painted thin; only just enough to cover our cracks.
Widening like morning eyes; a mirrored reflection.
Dancing in a zigzag to the tune of the tremors. An ugly soundtrack coaxing ugly art.
Those damp walls. The cracks swallowing torrents from eyes in the sky
Wide eyed boys watching sliding droplets crashing into droplets. Swallowed like pride.
Doors jammed in water seeped jambes. Knotted and gnarled. A need for a greave
Trees weeping at what they witness from the outside looking in. Shedding leaves for tears.
Oft trampled floor boards creaking and crying in solidarity with those that walk its back
Whisper and scurry light-footed like mice in a hurry so easily scared by the wall breaching wind
Trying hard not to wake the monster sleeping downstairs - Breath held like tongues, voices low
Like the swing in the garden tied to the tired branch of the hunched tree. Seat sunk in mud. Ashamed.
A tip toe down the slippery stairs; in fear of drowning in the basement swimming pool. A watery hell
Festering in the bowels of this building ever since the burgeoning moat breached the ramparts of this faux castle.
Lopsided family photo frames hanging by a thread. Nailed to crumbling walls. A slipping semblance of home.
The rising cigarette smoke staining the walls like those words from the same pursed lips from the mind so hard to rid
A cloudy plume with no silver lining; an excuse for eyes to water; blurring those family portraits.
That poisoned smog escaping through the chimney. Blown out over spluttering trees aghast at what this house concealed.
The wind once blew from the west. The house had many faces then but when the east wind struck its walls, the face it pulled it stuck. Doubled over, bent and crooked.
The trees perished like dreams and time brought change
But this crooked house remained the same.
There is a little sprinkling of love down deep,
a wee twinkling (light) ---
without which we couldn't exist;
like light upon the sleeping cove,
faint in the thick night,
afar yet it (glows),
the bloom from the rose has kissed the momentous
(moment)
Its (body) stem could only pretend to tear into life;
its little vision once as a puddle for a pond,
now the She-Earth has poured her life breath ---
and wept into wild rivers seeking the edges of the world,
the rain forests welcome her flow of lovely;
rainbow waves, and bubbles to bounce
where children play,
whence the nestled nightingale sings his plea
All of life bound beyond the eye, tethered at last to feel,
to see....
what is in front of thee;
the mountain moans, the mountain groans!
the felt whispered winds all Earth within,
the body weens into mind, emotion, things unseen...
What of worlds, and wolds of vast cosmos,
a quasar billions of might of Earth's sun,
yet a soul singular,
more mighty than thy many quasar flight?
The mother defys death to save her babe ---
in it all the world is saved,
one world enough, upon the galaxies bereaved;
one flower to make a universe,
and set it upon its course of so much more....
One from which flows the waterfall,
the tumbling tender truth;
from kind thought ---
your life to have all anew,
a fresh poured cure, to mold
endure....
what God would have of you;
a mighty wave upon the ramparts,
a new love upon the land,
a bloom forthwith,
sing ye, all Kings and Queens of Earth!
***Written in 2015***
Through the gates of Absalom,
steed and gate did ride,
charging fast and furious
o'er centuries gone by;
peace did shout in vain,
the Lidless Prophets...
must come again,
nigh is the evening sky
but full of hope
The ramparts held fast, ballast and beam,
cannon-fire bombasting flesh and bone,
groans of death ---
such dreary breath!
of decay centuries old
The Rose of all that is Earth,
her petals unsheathed,
torn for time ---
tear and antiquity ---
her red sheen lilts in the new day sun,
begging for Love, she asks:
Shall they come?
I am just a swollen bloated thing in this harsh world
Nothing here but the laws of physics upon me hurled
No safety, power, decision is mine as I am uncontrollably twirled
Under and over and across the sweltering haze
Never before feeling, always fleeing from the gaze
Now it is just me… alone… caught up in a daze.
The ramparts have fallen, all is mis-aligned, broken;
The wreckage of my thoughts you left as mere token.
Untidy answer I wish was unspoken!
Everything, everyone caterwauling at me in my alien world
Eyes upon me, I cannot escape from this demented gaze
Ears ringing from pain - from curses unspoken.
February 28, 2020
Title Chosen : Defenseless
Contest : Pick-A-Title, Vol 14-Tristich
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
Broken windows give no reflection
graffiti for those who can read
concrete streets are polluted rivers
passing shoes leave bodies in need
disillusion is a crumbled sidewalk
stretching to an intersection of who cares
empty eyes follow shadows that wander
stolen clothes from the morgue to wear
hope is a night's survival passing
when sounds of gunfire are heard
silence comes from gang handshakes
pigeons and crows the only bird
A bell that rings in the distance
the church the preacher will rob
players and pimps with tin cups
approach the stampeding mob
a moat of suburbs surround
gates to the castle are locked
guards at ramparts bleed blue
guns are always cocked
a cry only heard by those crying
in a dirty world of make believe
tomorrow finds another broken window
a rock by a child that can't leave
5/6/17
Circumstance encompassing around and flowing as the mill race in turbulent rolling curls,
Surges.' Forth to flow; and fall, visions issue with or without portent,
to my observation and my limited discernment.
Also fate makes it s call and then falls a power,
as do the oceans rearing ramparts downwards smash
On sand or shingle strands by night, by day, and twilight hours,
whilst magma as incandescent fire spouts and high hurled, red
In-veined opals show a pastel field green & blue
glistening inside more verdant hues, liquid colours flow as golden day
Ignites and shines, faint breaths of spring essay its designs
then retreat as the atmosphere chills, to threats of snow and sundry ills.
©Joe Maverick 18-2-2011
For the hills they undulate and roll,
Set beneath a crimson sky.
Image liken, to castle ramparts past,
Now slowly worn away with time.
For only seconds before the dawn,
And the mighty sun to rise.
Once more its rays to warm the earth,
And ascend into the sky.
For little bird how sweet you sing,
As you usher now the new morn in.
From branch to branch flit to and fro,
Along the leafy wild hedgerow.
For amongst the green, a dusting fare,
Of pastel shades of color there.
For gentle are the flowers that spring,
Who’s petals blossom like fairy wings.
© N Windle.
I will love you until time steals the shores
This gift I'll give as open arms surround
And kiss your lips a thousand times and more
Caress your welcomed heart with feathered sound
Avail ourselves to ships of no return
To chase the wind from lands we'll both explore
And leave the world behind with its concern
To follow sails of love as they emplore
This precious love is cupped between our hands
And used to find the farthest guiding light
So trust can take our hearts to love's command
And faith that follows guides us through the nights
The waves through time we'll cross with tethered hearts
And wrap our love around our soul's ramparts
Around me in a seamless stream, leaves cartwheel in the wind
They tumble from the tall ramparts, then seep into ravines
I've stepped into continuum, to a world beyond compare
to catch the day's reflection in still waters of a dream
Beneath me in a sheltered cove, where reeds and cattails sway
a flash of green, where frogs jump rope, with goals to break the calm
Wind clearly shares a word or two, with ripples on the pond,
and sweeps the grass upon the glass that traps the falling sun
I hone in on a water-bird, who doesn't seem aware
He dips his feet, and I can't speak,…..afraid he'll scurry far
The tranquil day is worry free, and peace is my best friend
Again, to tease, the jealous breeze has stirred the pond's veneer
Gold stretches out a wonderland, no moment's hesitation
as the low wide arms of marshland spreads, and calls for rapt attention
I want to write a poem, a verse.....and curse my own distraction
My morning's gone, and afternoon finds splendor everywhere
The sky is bold, as day unfolds, beneath the fevered brow
Beholding beauty such as this, would cause the tongue to swell
Where the slopes of other places vie or longing eyes might dwell
The heart feels quiet sympathy, they cannot compare as well
O' mystery of what I see, I've learned, and I'm compelled
If heaven shines so beautiful…I can't imagine how
If heaven shines so beautiful...Oh, Lord, please take me now
_________________________________________________
8/14/16Inspired By the painting "Wild Symphony"
Contest: Wordscapes
Sponsored by John Hamilton
chieftains trade their loyalty behind the clouds
high mountain king Carrantouhil commanding his Macgillycuddy Reeks
men of begotten rank, scheming skulduggery
secrets hide out of sight, Comeragh mystery shrouds Coumshingaun
flighty earls flee from the Lough Swilly shore
priests conspire, a king, a queen, a lord-protectorate exact revenge
imported evil stalks the land and soul of Ireland
near-on half give way, massacre, starvation, transportation and slavery
annexation by stealth, abomination
exposed Shannon artery, remorseless draining through lakes of tears
solidified karst corpses dissolving
into central mireland, ringed by coastal ramparts and remnant towers
turloughs disappear where the ground is leaking
playboys drink from black frothy pools of humour where the craic is good
where sad refrain gives way to rhythmic distraction
where song, stories, poetry, plays and dance merge in murky island brews
native chiefs are stripped of their Ulster lands
to control, anglicise and civilise a rebellious region
the area most resistant to English rule
official and private plantation, top to bottom colonisation
Gaelic hands across the channel disrupted
Scottish and English incomers, presbyterian and church of England
town and country, protestant domination
Irishmen uniting for briefest moments on higher ground
descent into cold depths of history
the Cliffs of Moher plunging from The Burren's bald barren bleakness
disfigured fingers pointing blame, shame and guilt
like the peninsular lands, Beara to Iveragh, Mizen to Dingle
stretching out to a new land of migrating hope
escaping abuse and clutches of long-robed men and women
the stifling heavy hand of implanted culture
two main layers of tradition now overlaying an unfathomable past
The rivers rise, released, unrestrained
Reborn of unrepentant rain
Recalling remnants of rimrock gained
Wrecked residences, drifting rafts, remain
Though dawn's rays reveal ruin and regret
Resolve ran through the returning vets
Of robust wars, whose rigors met
The rate the sliding roadblocks set
The ramparts raised, unrestricted
Remorse, redirected and evicted
Replacing rusty banks, constricted
Rebuilt runs regulated, predicted
They'll ride the restored, irrigated plains
Until the red ridges reclaim the range.
3/26/18
let us
drink the chartreuse
yellow green fields with our
eyes till we escape our ramparts
with wings
-maria corado
5/16/18