Best Rather Poems
Rather I, Sharpen Blade, Saddle My Battle Horse,
(Dawn, First Battle, Part One)
Dare I, reduce poet's pen to a plastic sword
flee from shadows that invades as destructive hordes?
Nay, such would incinerate reborn poetic soul,
bring heartache and destroy path to truth's gallant goal.
Rather I, sharpen blade, saddle my battle horse
walk through searing flames alone yet on steady course.
Expect more vicious attacks around each bend,
live out my final moment with defiant grin.
Should I, with courageous pen far more truth post
ink midnight hours, not fear darkest of evil ghost?
Beg more paper, its white pages let my ink soak,
in my defiance, strike those wearing evil's cloak?
Can I, with good conscience, this hard journey trek.
Knowing Raven's curse, both my eyes- out IT shall peck.
Robert J. Lindley, 10-18-2019
Sonnet, ( If Valiant, Let Ink Splash To This Dark Beast Slay )
(Dawn, First Battle, Part One)
Note:
Fuscus, qui mortalium haec faciam tibi mali iura
Et invenies in me plus perdomandosque feroces et fortes periculum pertinet.
By different lovers I’ve been kept,
some skillful and a few inept.
I always respond, unafraid.
I rather enjoy being played.
A Spaniard picked me up one time.
His classic strumming was sublime.
Notes poured from me like a cascade.
I rather enjoy being played.
That man released me, and soon I
was picked up by a strange punk guy
who stroked me roughly. Though betrayed,
I rather enjoy being played.
My strings broke often from his touch,
yet thrilled was I by his thrum. Such
unique new tunes from me were made.
I rather enjoy being played.
His sister held me awkwardly,
but then she sang so beautifully
it mattered not my sound would fade. . .
I rather enjoy being played.
She and her brother gave me to
some plucking fools without a clue
till an artiste came to my aid.
I rather enjoy being played.
He pressed my frets, this handsome boy.
My stings were vibrating with joy.
I climaxed with his smooth glissade.
I rather enjoy being played.
With him I hope to have remained
in years to come. His love’s unfeigned.
Although I know at times he’s strayed,
I rather enjoy being played.
The youthful memories I have did grate
Upon my innermost self and I’d cry
For my depressed spirit which longed to die
And halt life tainted with anger and hate
Yet now in a manic marvelous state
Akin to alcohol’s euphoric high
My heart’s core renewed can soar to the sky
How this came to be I’ll try to relate
I trapped thorny issues behind a gate
Forgiveness has become a great ally
Love found everyday gives reason to fly
Like a balloon unencumbered with weight
While able to breathe and greet each sunrise
Living and giving seem like the best prize
*****
Youth represents life of song to be sung
Laughing out loud when memories are made
But you wept as your spirit became frayed
Though now you’re wiser than when you were young
Having crossed the threshold of angst that clung
See how clover's nectar can be arrayed
Let your heart rejoice and not be afraid
As delight comes from strands of pearls restrung
The door's ajar—from the cage you've been sprung
Take wing knowing happiness will not fade
A heart’s compassion will never abrade
Where you go now—no place is too far-flung
Revel in moonlight and dawn's painted skies
An attitude change has opened your eyes
Lin, working with you is a pleasure and does bring a grand internal and external smile.
I just got through viewing
The "Hot New Poems List"
With the names of those I know
and some I guessed I've missed
I breezed right though the first five
Then, right straight down to ten
and new there'd be no need
To ever check, that high again
Then, Flying though the twenties
Perhaps, the thirties I would place
Even in the forties
would be a saving grace
Perhaps the Soup was careless
For sure they are mistaken
Not every poem I have written
'till now, could be forsaken
Then, there were the sixties
and the seventies, AGAIN !
You'd think between lines they,
could s-w-eeeeeze my poem in
The eighties saw no hope
The nineties were amiss
You'd think that I'd be sad
Or just a little pissed
But I'll just keep on trying
'Cause, you can never tell
But, the truth is that I'm Happy
to see my friends all doing well
I want to especially Congratulate my friend and yours
Jan Alison for making the Top of the list
"Not bad, for a girl that writes "Pooh" eh........ Lol
Little Macaulay Culkin
Left at home, but not sulkin'
Sued his real parents for divorce
Now he's "Home Alone" with no remorse
*Clerihew for Catie's Contest
Sometimes I wish that I would die
Or destroy my emotions so I don’t feel
Especially when I’m being choked by pain
Nobody loves me; they’re laughing at my pain
I swear they want me to just die
No one cares about how I feel
If only I can ignore everything that I feel
If only I can demolish my pain
Will I only heal after I die?
Sometimes I rather die than feel this dreadful pain
Although it’s neither here or there
I do love the mountain air
Fresh and crisp with its own bite
The river flows through the blanket of white
It’s all in life that is pure and clean
The river sparkles with it’s own sheen
Up here in the air that is lighter than light
I open my soul through the words I write
Through my words I write out a show
For those who have never seen the snow
Every breath you take is like a dream
With eyes amazed at the beauty they have seen
You close your eyes to process it all
And realize we are rather small
A Collaboration with Duke Beaufort
The youthful memories I have did grate
Upon my innermost self and I'd cry
For my depressed spirit which longed to die
And halt life tainted with anger and hate
Yet now in a manic marvelous state
Akin to alcohol’s euphoric high
My heart's core renewed, can soar to the sky
How this came to be, I’ll try to relate
I trapped thorny issues behind a gate
Forgiveness has become a great ally
Love found every day gives reason to fly
Like a balloon, unencumbered with weight
While able to breathe and greet each sunrise
Living and giving seem like the best prize
****
Youth represents life with songs to be sung
Laughing out loud when memories are made
But you wept as your spirit became frayed
Though now you're wiser than when you were young
Having crossed the threshold of angst that clung
See how clover's nectar can be arrayed
Let your heart rejoice and not be afraid
As delight comes from strands of pearls restrung
The door's ajar—from the cage you've been sprung
Take wing knowing happiness will not fade
A heart's compassion will never abrade
Where you go now—no place is too far-flung
Revel in moonlight and dawn's painted skies
An attitude change has opened your eyes
Duke,
Thanks for making our partnering on these Sonnets such fun!
Rather Than Deny Should Comply
Rather than deny,
Best are really reasons why,
That we should comply.
Jim Horn
I..
I
I... I would rather be a doorkeeper
In the house of my God
I would rather be a doorkeeper
In the house of my God
Than to pull the tail of an of a rapid diseased dog;
Be a doorkeeper, Greet all the sinless people;
Praise the Lord
Covet not, rooms of sins;
Remember what you've been taught
And what ya should believe in;
Mansions of deployed decay set in;
Pestilence, violent house of despair;
no one worthy, worthy
no one cares
I would rather be a doorkeeper
In the house of my God
I would rather be a doorkeeper
In the house of my God
Than to pull the tail of an of a rapid diseased dog;
Be a doorkeeper, Greet all the sinless people;
Praise the Lord
Romans just being kind;
Corinthian Paul has said
NO room for disorder;
No room for sin
Hand me that brush so that I may paint a blessing;
I am not enticed by your dissension, oh did I mention. . .
I would rather be a doorkeeper
In the house of my God
I would rather be a doorkeeper
In the house of my God
Than to pull the tail of an of a rapid diseased dog;
Be a doorkeeper, Greet all the sinless people;
Praise the Lord
Holes in the foundations;
House sinking fast
Flood is filling waters coming up to the windows
While your sipping on your flask
you look all around you and no one, no one worthy no one cares;
Romans just being kind;
Corinthian Paul has said
NO room for disorder;
No room for sin
Hand me that brush so that I may paint a blessing;
I am not enticed by your dissension, oh did I mention. . .
I..
I
I... I would rather be a doorkeeper
In the house of my God
I would rather be a doorkeeper
In the house of my God
Than to pull the tail of an of a rapid diseased dog;
Be a doorkeeper, Greet all the sinless people;
Praise the Lord
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.
June 02 2007
from anthology "Purpose and Calling"
I just can't "baulk"
i'd rather walk
"than" caulk to do
Copyright Joe Maverick 2011
a flustered tango of Gypsy moths
drumming the porchlight; chalk artists;
the endemic disappearance of farms—silos lost
in unkempt fields; space stations; the sunlit-scent of lemon
oil on cherry wood; birth; the chasm between cultural
appropriation & cultural appreciation; the history in our dust;
loneliness & heartbreak; trivia; funky funerals;
climate change, hurricanes, earthquakes & neglected
victims; heirloom charm bracelets, homemade
wind chimes & the homing sound made by a singing bowl;
masquerade balls; cityscapes hidden in ant hills; fly
fishing; serendipitous skinny dipping; missing children,
teddy bear memorials, forensic identification, monsters
never found in sleepy towns; the horrors of zoos—
elephants gone mad, lions robbed of their pride;
book reviews; civil unrest, bad cops & good cops & young men
gunned down; brand new fire stations; cancer survivors who wear
baldness so beautifully; my favourite pair of jeans; river rocks
found by dearest hands; a letter that can never be
received; joyful celebrations; incandescent dragonfly
dreams; twenty million at risk of starving to death;
wildflowers shaking pretty little heads;
misogyny disguised as religion; forgotten veterans who die
a bit more inside every day; the rainforest, shrinking;
saintly stoners & postulant prostitutes; toxic smog;
madmen with warheads; cheese cake & ice wine;
every personalized Kama sutra move & the God-given
ecstasy of body on body language; holding hands;
why one giggle can change everything; Thanksgiving
prayers; abandoned minefields, boy soldiers & devastating
amputations; the songs of the working poor; lightning
over the lake; his timely phone calls; brotherhood & sisterhood;
love in its every form; old maps; twenty-one gun salutes;
the extinction of the Galapagos Giant Tortoise; being
five, being twenty five, being ninety-five; kites; dogs chawing
on ragged rawhide; church-like museums on a Sunday
afternoon; make-shift picnics; deja vu; thrift store
wedding dresses; long drives with comfortable silences;
fading freedoms; censorship; seamless moonlight;
introspective dalliances with self-acceptance; the power
of purpose; how to be the bigger person; how to go
in a new direction; how to rise above . . .
1: If love is a game we need a referee
2: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways! Um…
3: I loved her to death but got off on a technicality
4: Star-crossed lovers occasionally get crossed up and can get rather cross about it too
5: She stole my heart and REFUSED to return it so now I'm a heartless person
6: So I begged her to please have a heart and she said, “I already got TWO you idiot!”
“I’d rather live in his world, than live without him in mine”
I’d rather live in his world, than live without him in mine
Being in love, we’re oftentimes blind
To the hurt and misery one can cause
We can’t stop or even take a pause
We choose to only focus on the good
We never run away as we sometimes should
Knowing in our hearts that we should let go
We think of his kiss and say no, don’t go
We overreact when it comes to love
We think it’s a feeling, but it comes from above
Love is spiritual as we come to know
And maybe that’s why we can’t let go
Midnight Train to Georgia by Gladys Knight and the Pips
He's been swingin' clubs since trouble began.
The Great Leader proclaims he hath no plan!
Hey man! There is a crisis,
With some bandits called Isis!
Cease yer 'putt'erin' and 'strategize', man!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved