Best Rapier Poems


Premium Member I the Mirror - With a Major Contribution By Joseph May - Dramatic Free Verse

an impression of the world
stands before me
Left is right, and right is wrong, 
and the mirror reflects a melancholy song.

i the mirror
not 
the babbling brook,
or
the rippled river
whose images tell harmless lies.

i
the mirror,
who was once held in the 
weak, shivering, hands of a life nearing its end
now lay
on broken, crushed bones, crumbs
and i 
one thousand shards
the cracks
the jaded moments of my life.

i 
an unintended semblance in the raging waters
crashing against the killing rocks of the rushing falls.

never utter the curse
"it can't get any worse"

the serpent swallows the swollen cow,
swallowed - the farmer's wife,
swallowed - her son,
swallowed - the thorny toad,
the black widow spider devours them all!


i the empty frame
the bits and bites of carpenter ants.

my world 
a perverse facade
of
what should of been
of
what 
is
of
what
was

or of
what? WHAT?
less?
i guess.

NEVER utter the curse
"it can't get any worse"

whose voice 
will bring me peace,
whose rapier 
will deliver me,

who will 
burn my body whole
or
dig me a deep hole
or
throw me void of soul

into 

the waters of the screaming ocean 
who herself dies a slow painful death.

Dec 20 2015
armand 
with a major contribution by
Joseph May

Premium Member Wire Walker

There’s the tightrope for you to walk, wire walker —

defying the gravity of reality and the reality of gravity
you know damn well he won't catch you when you fall
as your sticky grip on the star’s razor edge slips

back away from the black back-alley -
use the street’s angles and curves to your advantage
run! from the rouse of his lure
as the lore is as sordid as it is euphoric - 
ruined as you are by the ruse of his rune
fade to disappearance with distance
ride the rift of spindrift; a smoke screen 
as if you were never here 

but the territorial she-wolf knows…
she dreams of pouring rain pooling on a blurry beach 
though she may choose not to open sand-puddled eyes
intuition is not blind and instincts are hackled —
for she’s downwind of dual deception
and her elegant nose is one with the yellow-rose winds 

her howls now haunt your hurricane
passion’s kite - once blissfully lost in windy swagger
brash in its stellar flash amidst a hazy starlit pinwheel -
has returned a stormy petrel 
dark and hovering over self-inflicted wounds feeding on strife —
incised by the rapier side-eye of your conscience 
you seek to stem the red flow of guilt washing up in waves
knowing you can’t dye scarlet heartbeats white

there’s the tightrope for you to walk, wire walker;
the bloodline — that which binds 
a sinful sister’s envies to the sinless sister
and divides loaves of husband-lies for the bronze bloodless sinner.

Premium Member Be a Candle-POTD

nascent 
     dawn appears
kaleidoscope 
 of 
color
  midnight 
    sighs 
       leftovers 
                     of 
       last night
    plateful of 
  unsaid
words, 
a 
 tablecloth 
  of rapier-sharp 
           folds
                 &
            fireplace 
     dying 
to be 
     kept 
           alive 

sensitive 
      hearts 
           feel
             powerful 
                          in 
            mundane
        rain 
    pelting 
petals
    think 
           of 
              others

when eating
       remember 
             pigeon 
                 food
when fighting
     remember 
             seeking 
                   peace
paying water-bill
      remember
           cloud-nursed
when homecoming
       remember  
            homeless 
                 campers
 when sleeping 
     counting stars
               remember
                      sleepless, 
               roofless
         foodless
    healthless
hopeless
                     be a candle 
                            in 
                         dark 

snow 
  mixed 
      drizzle ...
        dust-covered 
man 
    holds 
       hand
          of daughter
             dying 
                slowly
                under 
           slabs 
           of 
   concrete
life 
     illusion
         dream
           swoon
       ecstasy
oblivion

1st Place Contest Winner

Written: February 14, 2023

YOUR SELECTION AGAIN Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand

NOTE::THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' (intuitive cadence)& so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Darkest Destiny

Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery begins
 
Ghastly ghostly spectres watch on with soulless glee
under laid this icy moon the toxic evil venom spews
within hideous precision it claw’s innocent victims prey
 
Fiercely gnashing jaws instinctively in this fiendish predator of night shades
dark striking off balance this stead of hell delivers his deadliest of blows
disturbingly the pungent smell permeates this surrounding sphere

Paralyzing unwary sufferers arching like a scorpion ready to strike
acrimony spreads stealthily through the shadowy invasion within the beast’s bite
suffering of hades destructive force inflicts a prelude to the apparitions
 
Awakening within this lair of madness an unsuspecting sacrifice
blinding under tombstones creeping slowly chill’s out
through one veil of darkened soil a nocturnal predator comes to feed                                                                                   
 
Liquefying resistant victim within the glaze of ebony eyes
mystic powers claiming to be magic crushing the core of Eve’s apple
emerging covered with its sclerotized plates the Coachman devours

Repast of putrid skin the last victim lies rotten
one captured soul sinks into the river of Acheron
final reward for the unwitting wounded prey

Begins eternal downward descent
drawn up and treasured by this hungry decedent of a Rove
carried away into hidden hollows of the dead roaring
 
Fiercely jealous of it’s captive trophy
sector’s remain vigilant to guard such treasured stored
this Coachman’s rightly domain claims a legion to an underworld
 
The deepest and darkest secrets expelled unrighteous  
this scarabaeus reaper as black inside with a rapier blade and sickle 
condemned are the two faced between thee jaws of this deadly fiend locked on
 
 
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman

Premium Member Darkest Destiny

Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery begins
 
Ghastly ghostly spectres watch on with soulless glee
under laid this icy moon the toxic evil venom spews
within hideous precision it claw’s innocent victims prey
 
Fiercely gnashing jaws instinctively in this fiendish predator of night shades
dark striking off balance this stead of hell delivers his deadliest of blows
disturbingly the pungent smell permeates this surrounding sphere

Paralyzing unwary sufferers arching like a scorpion ready to strike
acrimony spreads stealthily through the shadowy invasion within the beast’s bite
suffering of hades destructive force inflicts a prelude to the apparitions
 
Awakening within this lair of madness an unsuspecting sacrifice
blinding under tombstones creeping slowly chill’s out
through one veil of darkened soil a nocturnal predator comes to feed                                                                                   
 
Liquefying resistant victim within the glaze of ebony eyes
mystic powers claiming to be magic crushing the core of Eve’s apple
emerging covered with its sclerotized plates the Coachman devours

Repast of putrid skin the last victim lies rotten
one captured soul sinks into the river of Acheron
final reward for the unwitting wounded prey

Begins eternal downward descent
drawn up and treasured by this hungry decedent of a Rove
carried away into hidden hollows of the dead roaring
 
Fiercely jealous of it’s captive trophy
sector’s remain vigilant to guard such treasured stored
this Coachman’s rightly domain claims a legion to an underworld
 
The deepest and darkest secrets expelled unrighteous  
this scarabaeus reaper as black inside with a rapier blade and sickle 
condemned are the two faced between thee jaws of this deadly fiend locked on
 
 
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman

Premium Member Rhyming's Blase

I've gathered you all here today,
to lament rhyming poetry's death.
Fledgling poets feel it's blasé,
regardless of its rhythm and breath.

Lyrical poetry's a cliché,
though it's been recited for years.
For now, there's a different way
of expressing your fears and tears.

Exiled to the pages of time,
Rhyme died when its critics shunned it.
And its once clear, distinctive chime;
was stripped of its rapier wit.

Beloved, and yet inked by few,
it has slipped into history.
But, when I hear what rhyme can do,
its death becomes a mystery.

Rhyme was laid to rest by freestyle,
let's lift our pens; bid it adieu!
And visit it once in a while,
perhaps, to write a line or two.


Premium Member Poetic License Cancelled

So, what would you have me write?
Dulcet words of limply lurid metaphor
stuttering staccato of acceptable alliteration
preposterously impersonal personification
drab and dreary diluted imagery
innocently innocuous innuendo
insouciantly inane sonnets
neutered non-rapier wit
squishy, soft white bread limericks
fettered faint hearted free verse
sanctimoniously soft spoken rants
devoid of do’s and don’ts, can’s and can’ts


all to fit in a box
with invisible locks 
displayed on a Common
of “creative” stocks


John G. Lawless
©6/30/2018

The Alphabet War

Alphabet war.........

A is for aggressor, they're the ones who start wars, 
B is for breath, when a bullet takes yours. 
C is for Chieftain, a great British tank, 
D for the death in trenches so dank. 

E for endowment that the army will give, 
F for the funeral, in case you don't live. 
G is for guns, that you carry around, 
H for the heather, when you're dead on the ground. 

I is identity, the tags round your neck, 
J for the jangles, while on sentry you check. 
K for the killer, with weapon in hand, 
L for the love of your quiet homeland. 

M for my mother, my mentor is she, 
N is for nurture, what she did then for me. 
O you obliterate, any foe you will see, 
P for the pacifists, and for peace is their plea. 

Q for the Queen, and her country they fight, 
R is the rapier, aimed with optical sight. 
S for the soldiers, who've been trained in the field, 
T for the tanks, and the power they yield. 

U the unexpected sights you will see, 
V is for victory, and the love of the free. 
W for the wounded, which I hope you stay clear, 
X is for xenon and the chemicals we fear. 

Y for the youths this poem may teach, 
Z is for zenith, put your hands out and reach.

No More Love Poem

NO MORE LOVE POEM

“”..... Ander her picture when she cut her wrists and so the kid saw the picture and his prick went Whoop Whoop Whoop,,,”
- Trantino. The Great Blafigria Is.

“ … For I dream I know not how¡
And my soul is sorely shaken
Lest an evil step be taken,-
Lest the dead who is forsaken
May not be happy now.”
-The Bridal Ballad. Edgar Allan Poe

Please Stop.
I don’t want falling in Love
& being pretty smart 
O mamma mia. 
When the Train is Gone
 I thrower in motion:
I don’t hit the nail on the head¡ 

 I’m going wild against the Wall
Slap-up meal. 
My brain’s been ****ed
When yr love is come 
Toot toot 
Damn ***** ate my dog.

 Then haemin’s yr Ass: 
Love is a silly thing
 Fancying that
All over the place 
And to die 
Of a broken Heart, ja, ja ja.

 Hey captain¡ Hey captain¡
 My arm chaplain is incapable.
Hey Captain¡ Hey Captain¡
 I think we’re gonna cum
In the twinkling of an eye:
 The end of the love
Lies inside you¡

 Do you know Do you see:
All lovers are Rapier pigs
 bastard Gentlemen of rape
Looking out at all rissoles
In the churches’ streets 
& saying:
” let me darkle
Or let me daze”.

 With Langston Huges’ motto
As we live and learn:
“Dig and be dug
In return”

No more Love Poem
Darkly Vampire.
Carry me to Yr Black Ritual
Of bloody Love
 Leaning lip-poised.
 We tremble to receive
The darkly ****ing Eucharistic 
To touch Perceive
Touch Explore
 And yet with utmost Sinful care
 Slide Melt
Devour.

The *****Cock 
And Chicken 
In the head of lustful night
Carry me.

Hero, Patriot, Courage, America

Headstrong, headlong, headfirst, head on, Glory HallelujaH
Endure, engage, enforce, eradicate, exclusive, Delta  ForcE
Reliant rescuer raider redeemer rapier razor, Army RangeR
Outfit outwit outlast outlive outright outdo USMC-ANGLICO


Protector of  life, liberty, freedom, democracy, citizenshiP
Always stand in defense of The United States Of AmericA
True blue loud and proud defender of the American SpiriT
Respects the flag & supports The Constitution with honoR
I believe it is my duty to defend borders &  Island HawaiI
Owning a firearm is a legal right  under Amendment  twO
This testimony represents that I am an  American PatrioT


Champion and  protector  of  our  Democratic  RepubliC
Officer and Peace Keeper,  preventing what evil men dO
Unafraid against any challenger defending  me and  yoU
Resolute to the greater good with valor pride and honoR
American Soldiers paying the high cost  for free AmericA
Gracefully protecting justice and liberty let freedom rinG
Extraordinary moral fiber and unequalled focus andhopE


All men created equal, Life, Liberty and Happiness quotA
Marines pledging pride, powerful protectors of patriotisM
Equal justice One Nation Under God Faith IndependencE
Respect the flag responsibility legal accountability honoR
Independence Declaration of  people by  people  you & I
Constitutional contract for citizenship Capitalism acrostiC
Allegiance to the red, white and blue, God bless AmericA


A tribute to America's Special Forces

Plastic Fantastic

Man, it just doesn’t pay to try and live in the day. Crazy full up, crisper, sharpest with an undepleted uranium core, burning burning burning, knowing it’s all **** and nobody pays attention, “quiet desperation,” hell! I just want to run in circles, scream and shout, play a one-man game of crack the whip, and fly down the lea flopping into a deeper briar patch of blooming wild irish roses and gin blossoms! As I pass through muted crowds, so full of noise and bustle-hustle, I get that itch between my chakras, that tightening of the fruit, stooping with a sly look around me, a faint paranoiac whiff of parallel worlds at a titanic event horizon, slamming together, slapping bellies like a $2 whore... shadows fighting archetypes of shadows (or is it more like the agony of waiting for that goddamn second boot that never gets dropped on the floor in the apartment above, Jesus Christ, does Ahab live up there?! But more like living a Gilliam dystopia, never feeling completely at ease with anything or anyone, until even the sewer urchins are out for your blood...my God, their dark eyes!) and, passing through the crowds and stores full of purchased attitude and 4G networks, everyone’s hands full of their adult pacifiers, texting a friend sitting next to them, I get cooler, like passing through a near dawn mist roiling off a boneyard, and realize we’re all starving pilgrims on a road to nowhere, begging bowls filled with moaning woe and ironic suffering as we’re denied entry into Lhasa (we had a PC instead of a Mac).  Do I bow or curse now at knowing I'll have to slide past a window and hide under the stoop with a paper bag full of fortified liquid forget-me-for-now and growl away the ice weasels? But as I wander, backtrack through that plastic-fantastic crowd, hitting the door and dark like an expelled sigh, I wonder what became of true heroes? For with my disdain, rapier sarcasm dripping with cleverly crafted metaphors... I’m not one of them.

Premium Member Rapier Claws

A predator's rapier claws;
keeps my cat in good health.
Midnight black, she blends with shadows
and stalks her prey with stealth.

Pouncing at nearly lightning speed,
she's a featureless blur.
And yet, when cuddled in my lap;
Death wears the softest fur.

Ronald Rump

repugnant racist republican reviled - rickettsia re:itch ruler. 
rapaciously ravaged revered reverential rubric. 
radical ruthless renegade rapidly riotously rips rigged ramparts. 
refrains retaining remnant redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
riches rudely rupture rooted rectified rights.
ruckus ricochets revenant reign. 
ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
rumbustious rapscallions rollick; render ruinous ramifications.
rusty razor razing revenge rents reprisal.
rabid rectal rictus rotten rebrands re-calibrate.
rambunctious revolutionaries rejoice.
ruffians ride roughshod routing reigning royalty.
reiterate revetting robust recidivist rationality.
ride Rolls Royce relentlessly rendering rock ribbing. 
riffraff raconteur raise reactionary response.
revisit rancorous restrictive redlined realigned rightward rivets. 
robocop ridiculously rubber-stamped reorganization.
recalcitrant reactors release rapture.
rash Russian roulette reconnaissance raconteurs rack rubles.
red room reflects republican RNA.
rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats revoke righteous refulgent repertory.
rapier robed robbers ransack reliquary resounding retaliation. 
retaliatory redcoat regnum reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiling rapprochement 
raison d'être rosily revered rifled relics raffled.
rookie raves ripe rackful rubenesque reliably ranked.
refulgent rotundity requisite requirement re: reappointment.
road-tested, roadworthy redeem reapportion routed role.
reprehensible reassignment rapidly recognizes response. 
rife rampage removes respectability - respect.
responsible roused restitution refuted. 
risky resultant reconnoitering runaway railroad reverberates rivalry.
reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirms redoubling ridding revitalization. 
reconfiguration realpolitik reinstates repudiation 
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
requisition requires resilient reseeding republic.
regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing. 
rare recount restoring recondite renown reprobate Rapunzel. 
Republican representatives rejoice reclaiming reins 
registering retarded romantic remains
re: Rastafarian revered reliquary rests!

Premium Member Solomon Kane

War after war in the name of his sovereign king
 
A seventeenth century fury, devoid of all shame
 
Through pistol, cutlass and rapier, the world knew his name
 
So too does the Reaper, and beckons to Solomon Kane
.
 
A time to fight evil with evil, purge wickedness far from the land
 
Anger, murder and hatred, the cost of the toll
 
On the brink of destruction he falters, unsure of his stand
 
No riches, nor rapture enough to replenish his soul
.
 
A scream from the Devils Reaper
 
Cuts deep through the ice in your soul
 
“I have come for you, Solomon Kane”
 
“To claim back the Time, that you stole”
.
 
You wake from your world of dreams
 
The dreams that do haunt you, still
 
Renounced your evil ways, it seems
 
No - more you will live, to Kill
.
 
In penance here, behind these walls of virtue
 
“Oh! Father, do not make me beg, I pray
 
Cast from Heavens favour, crowned unholy
 
Let loose the Devils Children, for to play
.
 
The corpses piling high, upon the pyre
 
His bounty just a book and some stale bread
 
From regal and the noblest of beginnings
 
Alone there on the road, he’s left for dead
.
 
Dispense now with the boy you gutter demon
 
The daggers kiss then stole his life away
 
“If I kill you, demon, then I am bound for Hell”
 
“But that’s a price, that I will gladly pay”
.
 
Adorned by a broad-rimmed hat and a flowing cape
 
His journey’s long, his homeland’s where he’ll start
 
His task laid out before him, Merediths escape
 
No love, nor needless pity, in his heart
.
 
The preachers flock have changed now for the worse
 
They clamber for to tear the flesh, from bone
 
As MalachI bestowed on each, his curse
 
The Chapel cellar walls, their only home
.
 
The fate of defiance is fixing
 
The Hapless aloft, on the cross
 
Rain softens a cruel crucifixion
 
Sweet Meredith’s … not yet lost
.
 
A Priest sold his soul, to the Devil
 
At the castle, of Solomons birth
 
Welcome home, Solomon Kane
 
His friends, cut to bits in the dirt
.
 
“Forsake me not, Heavenly Father”
 
“Do I call on your Mercy, in vain”
 
Redemption lies there, at Your Alter
 
“RETURN TO ME” ….. Solomon Kane
.
 
There once was a time, full of burden
 
A time without hope, for a Saviour
 
When no-one would stand against Evil
 
“THAT TIME, MY LORD.... NOW IT IS OVER”

Dota: Divine Rapier

Oh~ Rapier, my holy divine
Please tell me when will you be mine
I can't wait much long, my divine
For the scourge looms if you're not mine

Oh~ Rapier, shining in the night
Please be mine, even for tonight
Let me wield your radiant might
And as dark flees light, scourge will flight

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