Best Relenting Poems
Like the sun awakened, from slumber grey
Blessing every tortured fray
embraced my soul, your glorious gaze
and set my lonely heart ablaze
like the sun amass a brand new morn
upon your whispered wind was born
our love, till endless ages sworn
like sun enveloped, rainy days
you devoured all my hopeless haze…
and since dost now my heart amaze
with joy and laughter, lifes’ rephrase
but like the sun,twas time to set,
now life dost seem just wretched fret
sunless days chase moonless night
drifting along alas lonely plight
A Godly gift you were to thee
rewarding every desperate plea
now I must sail amidst raging sea
blind to hithers destiny.
But I shall rise above the moon
Amidst the troubled waters swoon
For love like ours it strengthens mast
To ride relenting waters vast
Till time dost ask for my return
To the place my tethered soul doth yearn
And all my cares shall be set free
your womb my love this soul shall flee
where thine was always meant to be
in Heavens Grace… Eternally
Categories:
relenting, death, grief, hope, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Lifting the Veil
You see, Mr Bilton, Sir
This trumpet that you gave me
Fails my musical sense to stir
A guitar would surely save me
A guitar is all I yearn
Should I whinge and whine and wail
Or will His Dominance make mine turn
A whiter shade of pale
My puny chest draws deep a breath
My lips pucker to tweet
The notes inside were lost to death
Instead of sounding sweet
Sorry Sir, embarrassed I
For all that I exhale
Leaves the effort that I ply
A whiter shade of pale
Relenting to the obvious
He throws at me a strummy
It ain’t no Stradivarius
But sits well on me tummy
I plucks vibrations on the strings
My muse it lifts the veil
For on his rosy cheek there clings
A whiter shade of pale.
For Arcy’s, ‘Sing to Me’ Contest
Inspired by; Whiter Shade of Pale
Categories:
relenting, music,
Form:
Quatern
The river dragon of crimson streams
Swiftly swimming to bring my end
As I’m standing alone at the silent shore
The beast from this murk suddenly ascends.
Gripping my face in her flawless jaws
The teeth latched efficiently into flesh
Pulling me quickly into the depths
Dragging me into the shallow grave.
Surrounded in filth, drowning in the banks
The apex predator’s grip never relenting
All I can do is break, bleed and decompose
Hoping for some relief in the pending death.
I find some comfort in this prolonged pain,
Because I haven’t felt a thing in ages.
Categories:
relenting, abuse, addiction, allegory, death,
Form:
Sonnet
your eyes close …
mine stay open, bewitched
my lips move soft along your cheek -
a sublime dermal journey
from nape to mouth
I brush yours with mine, as if
miming a sigh
and they part ... slowly ... sweetly
I pull back, slightly, then press again,
tender …
our lips fit … perfectly
the way my fingers fill the spaces
in yours - the way our
bodies merge like buttery heaven …
tongues touch and dance
twisting, loving, playing ... exploring
I taste, then tickle your teeth
running my tip along their
clean smoothness, as a stick atop
a white picket fence
(or fingers across piano keys)
seeking every corner ... every flavor
I savor each delectable nuance
that your pretty cheeks hide -
the wonderment of saucy spices
guarded by that dazzled smile
for me alone …
craving, you share the tang of mine -
remnants of your nectar still
clinging like honey …
it all mixes and swirls with
our sugary tongues -
a delicious delight …
a few stray strands of your platinum
herbal tresses caught between …
relenting to my fantasies
and the electric sensations that
flood my core -
our mouths devouring, hot
my eyes finally close
and I plunge your depths
lost in you ...
in our HUNGER.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice (21) Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Pick F, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Love Is The Answer" Poetry Contest, Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice 21, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
relenting, appreciation, kiss, love, passion,
Form:
Free verse
Always fleeting,
you tempt me with beautiful words from nowhere,
convincing me they are my own.
In the corner of my eye, a Muse
& suddenly anything is possible.
You haunt me;
sending visions of dark ink
flowing from poised finger tips.
Finally, i give in,
relenting under high expectations
& promises of genius.
Reluctantly, i put pen to paper
& find that you've moved on.
Categories:
relenting, art, introspection, on writing
Form:
Blank verse
Your time has come like the rising sun. Stand up for life created by God’s love as
the dove descends from above. He has a plan for you to be one with Him as He
is with you thus making you brand new. Your life should be more than just the
ordinary existence, let Him strengthen you as your soul runs the distance. Be
filled with His spirit and let your light shine. Manifest His joyful glory and
overcome obstacles in His name while unto Him you render an acclaim. Move
ahead and be the lighthouse of strength without relenting; thus ascending from
the bottomless pit into His eternal light of creation. Experience the fullness of
your destiny with God in the middle of your future. Build your foundation in His
word and spirit. Empower your soul with His tenacity; He will determine your
capacity. Be anointed by His grace and experience the reality of not just a
dream. A light lit for living liturgy. He has you covered with His Holy Spirit. Now
step out—your time has come!
Comments: A prose poem is written in prose form. It does not have line breaks
or varying topography as a regular poem. During the mid-nineteenth century,
Charles Baudelaire published Petis poemes en prose. Oscar Wilde, T.S Eliot
and others have written in this genre. The genre started in France and is now
worldwide. The use of concrete language and figurative speech such as
imagery, rhymes, personification, contrast, simile, metaphor, alliteration,
metonymy, synecdoche, abstraction and the like should be incorporated based
on the desire of the poet. The piece may focus on language, a story, or
something similar based on the choice of the poet.
Categories:
relenting, devotion, faith, hope, life,
Form:
Free verse
With women the heart argues, not the mind.
MATTHEW ARNOLD, Merope
1. The stand of old growth Melalucas, graces the lowlands of our farm.
For over fifty years, accumulations of leaves have formed small soft islands.
“With selective clearing,” my husband says, "larger areas of grassland will grow.
More grazing for the cows and less hay we’d need to buy in Winter."
Inwardly, I lament, not wanting to lose the beauty of these trees
with branches that rise like huge broccoli bunches against bright blue skies.
My husband, much harder, by necessity, over-rules my sentiments.
2. Conveniently, earth-moving machines appear early on the first day
of the New Year. They cut a long swathe
but on the dam are left a large row, marked by me,
for sanctuary.
They cast reflections on the still water.
3. The felled trees are piled into rough heaps. Prophetically, the car
of the Inspector for Primary Industries appears.
“You must know, these are protected trees.”
He asks for permits (not granted) and orders a ‘cease and desist.’
His scowling looks are an indictment.
4. For months the operation was on hold
and, then the rains came and the floods—almost our undoing.
Flocks of water-birds occupied the flats, nesting on the islands
formed by the grassy hummocks. When these waters receded,
an overgrowth of young melalucas sprouted, where the old trees
had once stood. A network of roots underground had signaled
a catastrophe. New nodes erupted along all the root-ways.
Dumbly they announced their guardianship of the swampy land.
“Give us back to time,” they said , but the un-relenting slasher
leveled them again, so grass could grow.
5. I go back into my house now, secretly pleased the trees are speaking.
The topaz flames from the fireplace, warm my bones.
The hoary frosts have come. The envelope containing the D P I’s
decision waits on the mantel shelf, propped by a row of grazing, ceramic cows.
From the window I see our cows enter between the Melalucas.
They graze on the new growth pasture.
I warm my hands, as the flames lick firewood.
The scent from Melaluca smoke haunts me.
Suzanne Delaney
365 words
Categories:
relenting, angst, confusion, environment, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Sleepless nights of tossing and turning
wonder what if or what for, even why not.
Battling decisions far from reach or
just a breath away.
Casting doubt to be trampled and buried
under glass; where it is seen and still
lies within reach.
Head pounds with thoughts; not giving in,
not relenting, or leaning this way or that.
Voices cry out with confusion that builds
and packs a swollen brain to shut down.
Escape has no chance to override the
conscience act.
What impels the mind to split and pull
one way or another?
What creates the thought of right or wrong,
of good or evil to overpower the heart
to decide last and for all, what to do?
Who or what whispers softly in your ear
guiding your steps to take the right road?
MOTHER…
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Categories:
relenting, on writing and words,
Form:
Free verse
Villanelle: No curse worse than the place and name you inherit to hate
No curse worse than the place and name you inherit to hate
There where you first blink your own coffin you have to nail
The exiled wander aimless in the throes of never-relenting fate
Hounded by carnal goals and bound fast by your fate innate
The hammer that pounds the nails in your blood without fail
No curse worse than the place and name you inherit to hate
The long arm of fate can reach you through the friendly state
The Wanderer has no place he calls home but the un-walled jail
The exiled wander aimless in the throes of never-relenting fate
Neither lust nor love can spare the place’s trap or fumigate
The quick flaming grass that traps you on the mountain trail
No curse worse than the place and name you inherit to hate
You may nurse the cow in you be not gruff never joke nor prate
Nor vie with otherland hosts where other unjust ways prevail
The exiled wander aimless in the throes of never-relenting fate
Nor claim the imported god incarnates the only Law in the State
Sack burn pillage and plunder the recumbent host’s Holy Grail
No curse worse than the place and name you inherit to hate
The exiled wander aimless in the throes of never-relenting fate
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
relenting, home, loss, moving on,
Form:
Villanelle
Boy
Obstinate, belligerent,
Cursing, fighting, bullying,
Girl, crucible, ring, child,
Relenting, healing, sacrificing,
Steadfast, kind,
Man
Categories:
relenting, life,
Form:
Diamante
your left hand was hard, but your right, gracious
putting me in the balance of Love
of which its fulcrum is discipline and respect.
Your weaknesses were classified
just to ensure I see beyond mine
Your chastisement was not without pain
of which its appreciation
is a strong indicator of my gradual maturity.
You always guard the gates of my territory like a Centurion
and fight against all antigens like a warlock.
You taught me how to be complete
and provided the staff and Ass
as I journey across Life and appreciate.
I initially thought of you differently
when you gave me the partially made sandal,
when you refused to help with the air-tight metal box,
when you gave me bone while milk was still my best delicacy
when you laughed at me while I'm confused
and worst of all, stopping Mum to come to my rescue.
I never knew they were task of Life I most needed,
finishing off the sandal made me industrious,
opening the box, made me determined and never relenting,
chewing the annoying bone made me grow up;
your scorn and laughter actually made me decisive
and rescuing myself made me independent.
All these sum up to making me a MAN!
Which makes you my Hero and role model.
Before I was, there was you;
in fact, I am in existence because of you.
I've always clinged unto you as my Life's support
but you allow me make my mistakes
so as to be the best gadget.
Your regulation of Mum's affections
only makes me be an unspoilt egg.
I always increase when you sweat
and your headaches are stepping stones to my zeniths.
You are such an irreplaceable asset
and your love, so refreshing as the evening air.
What more can I say and how else can I show gratitude?
As much as I know, you need none of these,
One thing I must always say is,
I LOVE YOU DAD!
Categories:
relenting, anniversary, care, dad, father,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The local priest asked me to pray
I did but I had doubt
For a while I lost my way
and I was holding out .
For me there could be no relenting
I had yet to learn how to grieve
There could be no repenting
because I had ceased to believe .
I was angry and hurting
and to my eternal shame
From the truth I won't be skirting
Even the good lord got the blame.
In my mothers house feeling sorry for myself
Sorting through the things that charities might sell
I reached up to the cupboards top shelf
and my mum's favourite CD fell.
Then and there on the radio
I heard her favourite hymn '' how great thou art ''
Why I started to cry i'll never know
but I opened up my heart .
In the car on my way home
Tears streaming down my face
That hymn now played for me alone
The good Lord I once more embrace .
I know my mother is happy in her new residency
and is now an angel in heaven high above
To me that song was her sending me
The whispering of a mothers love .
I've opened my heart and found my way
Though I admit I'm just a man
but now when I kneel down to pray
I know the Good Lord understands.
By Darren Watson
01/04/2014
For the Whispers of love contest.
Sponsor . Gail Angel Doyle.
Categories:
relenting, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
Enjoying an appealing repartee
Over scones and a cup of tea
Belching whilst cooking
Avoiding chronic particles from choking
Comradeship amongst landed gentry and friends
It all makes faultless sense
Avoiding topics that’s nonsensical
Keeping a lid on emotions and remaining sensible
Being sensuously sociable
Status eminent and unreachable
It is nonetheless within pulpit reach
Spattered with a seven year itch
A contentious immoral pair
Culminating in an indelible affair
Relationship commencing from spontaneity
Both relenting with reciprocity
Inappropriate association stifling me
Loathing of perversity for all to see
Probing the other with a stolen glance
Guard down devoid of a lance
Facilitating a rendezvous
Gathering a result of a woo
Deeper drawn into the abyss in vain
Inglorious fall from grace of the luscious moral fountain
One part of the source
Neither one being remorseful
Subsequently asked for divorce
The indignant feeling pitiful
Both caught in shameless tryst
In the presence of taut vice
The spilling of the sauce
There shall now be no more recourse
Categories:
relenting, angst,
Form:
Classicism
exploring the contours of a gentle wave
progressing slowly in the near darkness
its w(eigh)(ai)t almost too much to bear
alongside her now, reaching out
from crest to crest, the lines are traced
like a whisper of a breeze, silently caressed
relenting to its momentum, completely engaged
the wave shifts
she turns to him and examines his face
eyes locked, unblinking, a portal
seeing the unseeable, each drawing the other in
each moment a lifetime as two become one
sharing a singularity of feeling, not giving or taking
lifted to the highest places, weightless
simultaneously holding back and progressing
not wanting to end...as one becomes two
the wave forms again and lines are retraced
Goodnight
the dawn breaks
Categories:
relenting, love, passion
Form:
On a dark, gloomy, depressing winter night
Something came that was to be such a sight
On my very life's blood it could surely draw
In it's black hole eyes i knew what it saw
Striving for analytical logic
Fighting man yearning for the nostalgic
chorus
Black, Gothic, arcane the Raven
Death, delphic, cold his haven
Looking me deep in my own very soul
The Raven said I can hear calm deaths toll
The nation is a decaying cadaver
Falling gray ashes from the disaster
A gasp my destiny was preordained
Yet so many questions, so much unexplained
chorus
From gray ashes the nonpareil will rise
From this grim narrative you must grow wise
Growing more somber he began to say
Their will be a great war on this special day
It will be the darkest before the light
But the prophet of death warned you must fight
chorus
He said but victory can be achieved
Hearing this I began to feel relieved
But beware he said, anathema will come
Finally I ask sternly where are you from ?
Death gaze he said always remember your martyrs
Finally relenting , I was sent by Allfather
chorus
Reeling from disbelief I asked questions
Why send you to me with these directions?
He said don't worry as it is not important
You must prepare yourself for the abhorrent
Saying to rise again is not a sin
I ask his name he responded..... Munin
chorus
Categories:
relenting, faith,
Form:
Lyric