Best Remnant Poems
REMNANT
The Book of Prophecy was open to a silent page.
Tis she thought of the biblical generation in forty stages.
Her heart she hears.
In this life that Ora lives, she has fought for wisdom to ensure longevity.
Salient she sits looking out in the sunflower fields.
The vented darkness encapsulated.
Her mind ponders on the spiritual world.
She was, she felt, as lost as Poe.
Her favorite Poet of long ago spoke through his writings to only Ora.
In the fields, stands the raven.
A bird of blackness and such beauty but yet a threat to her, she felt she was
attached to a nonphysical existence.
Transcendental was the raven's head as she perched on the mantle.
She takes her breath every time because this woman fears what this
symbolizes.
Surcease, this woman would shout aloud.
No respect for me do you have at my house.
Such demeanor is not to be tolerated.
This woman strikes out at the raven.
The raven flipped her wings beguilingly with decorum of her wickedness.
The forty years has transgressed with the omen sent.
This woman was struck by the raven’s beak.
Mournful she lays with her memory defeated.
Tis morn came and she lays awaken.
Ora’s visitors found her in a pitiful state.
They prepared her chambers for her to rest.
Will she live to see the next forty years?
Of youthful existence, she was.
Of her age, she was not.
The raven figurative existence defined her knowledge.
Portent and fore token, a scoff of hope is the raven augury.
She is epoch to her well-being.
May this story end?
Nevermore
_______________________________|
PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 21, 2014!
What Remains
by
Rick Folker
June, 2017
Kansas City, MO
When the crowd clamors
And the tocsin clangs
When the mighty and powerful
Crush the weak, the vulnerable,
The poverty that chains and shames
When fear fights fiercely
With the menacing gang
Silencing the prophets
With their poisonous slang
When the refugee seeks safety
Those sojourners are met with a
Door slamming
And a deafening bang!
When these omens and portents are
The normal sturm und drang
Of a soul-less people clinging to
Myths of endless positive change
When all of these mindless, pointless,
Endless
Strife-filled days
Divide and dwindle down
To the ashes of the last
Death pangs
A Remnant Remains
A Remnant Remains
And life and love are reborn and return
Again! and Again! and Again!
Yesterday's daisy chain lies limp on the floor
As it has done many times before
Though just a remnant of a sunny day
It makes me smile anyway
Contest : ANY 2011 POEM max 14 lines
Places 2nd
Remember me? Does my voice resonate in your hollow soul?
Ponder on your sins, muse over a girl whose spirit you set out to abolish.
You thought you were my kryptonite. You are but another iron that branded me with resilience.
You feared and despised what you could not contain.
Like rocks and river, always clashing, never mingling.
Incompatible our minds fought a war. You were consumed in violence
and I chose silence. We were feuding vortexes in your chasm of demise.
However, I carried on, unto worlds unknown to your hatred for beauty.
Still your screeches rise to the heavens, while in them I soar.
Do you think the remnant of your arrows effective anymore?
Do you feel so dignified within the walls of your insecurities?
Do you believe yourself to have penetrated the heel of Achilles?
Never were you my destruction,
merely a distraction…
I don’t know if I’m alone
in this everlasting Hell.
I can’t be the only one who has grown
spending eternity in a mental cell?
In memory’s furthest horizon
my dreams were haunted
by terrors that now shadow day’s sun.
Repulsive images from nothing created.
Yet I have no fear of night.
Although chaos and exhaustion abound,
and mercy is nowhere in sight,
adaptation demands to stand ground.
If your life is split
when the sunlight fades,
your mind will easily permit
‘insanity’ to be dealt in spades.
When the dawn awakens
my slumber, I’m hesitant
to believe what my senses experience
are not part of nightmare’s remnant.
In the devastating deluge of sorrow river,
swept by the agony current the senses quiver.
Perceptive awareness faculty sinks within deep,
awakens the quintessence so long asleep.
From the consuming entity of trinity of being,
if the mind-body dualism disappears unseeking,
when the distant bells relentlessly toll,
released devout soul hears the heavenly call.
As the synphony of the silenced life ends,
the fading tune with the melody of soul blends.
Suffused with the sound of aum serene,
sonorous solitude in sublime space it can glean.
Devoid of the body and acquired intelligence,
the liberated soul sublimates from existence,
reaches the realm of eternity to realign
with the universal consciousness divine.
________________
September 10, 2022
Contest : Sans Mind-Body Who Are We
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker
January 31, 2023
Contest : Your Favourite Rhyming Poem From The Second
Half Of 2022
Sponsored by : Juilia Ward
I serve as a missing link between
A world of liberal dreams
And conservative lifestyles
I am a remnant of a life
Of owning cars and taking a wife
And spend my days organizing files
She embraces all a millennial's roles
Too poor to fill the air with coal
Or think about popping out a child
She represents everything I lust
How she's so lazy she rusts
A life so far away from wild
And everyone else I love's the same
The last remnants of the American Dream
Drown ourselves in drugs and memes
To fight against the ancient tide
Yet I walk along the same old path
Swathed in the arms of historical wrath
As they both yell for me to pick a side
Our history is filled with hate
Where they'd kill and segregate
And claim the rich are better suited
I was raised with that toxic dream
To hit the top and reign supreme
While the dregs all rioted and looted
Now everyone I've come to know
Raised the curtains on this show
And showed me the world how it looks naked
Freaks, labeled as such because they bleed
Depressed and waiting to be freed
From the capitalist world they hated
I want to see the world grasping hands
The last remnant of an American Dream
Hand in hand; a life supreme
Subjugated by class wars
Teachers pruning out curiosity
The death of what has made me me
No one's gonna make it through these doors
America is falling down
Because the old men grasp their crowns
So let me pull the plug on their daydreams
Wash away the suffering
Bring on a world where we are one
No more 1% or left or right
Eliminate the need to fight
Everything will end when we realize we are one.
a remnant stands
oak tree struck by lightning....
buzzard roost by night
The armies they are massing:
They line and ring every shore, every strand bristling with
The deadliest of weapons;
The tocsin should be sounded,
And every cannon is round at its bore.
Fires rage unchecked and unopposed throughout the
Entire world, and mankind, in part, prepares hastily and needlessly
Yet more and crueler,
Harsher atrocities, cruelties
And machines and weapons of horrific war.
Bloody folly and empty vainglory to
Embark imprimis upon the roads to all-out war,
I greatly fear that these are man's fate,
And though I attempt to raise the alarm
With this writing of mine, yet I fear I may be too late!
"Too late! Too late! This, then, is mankind's fate!" It cruelly mocks,
Crows and caws as the ebon raven,
Croaking its dread prophecies in my ever-attentive ear.
It chills even my waiting
Tankard of frothy, frosty beer;
Yet no beer-drinker am I,
No quaffer and lover of ales and lagers.
And still I hold a lonely vigil,
And keep a silent, motionless, breathless watch on the swiftly storm-filling sky.
5. Making steel-enclosed aeronautical, aerodynamical vessels sealed
And brimming only with overmuch indiscriminating death:
Dual-edged, oiled with and soaking in an abundant poison bringing
Vicious death to the poisoner as well as the poisoned,
Man is a violent, self-destructive fool: Lame, impotent,
Obsessed and somehow impatient of vilest death.
Death for his opponent, his manufactured,
Fancied nemesis:
Nay; his NEMESES:
Yet not for himself, this horrid death he dreams of bringing to an imagined enemy only.
Additionally, he hath built and placed all his faith in titanic weaponry of
Awesome destructiveness,
Possessed of the devastating potency of an angry, rampaging god.
And these vile implements of utterest extirpation;
Encased within a very nation of steel tubular;
They are as wayward, incorrigible,
Marauding, plundering, malicious gargantuan
Monsters:
Great, cyclopean giants of a horribly puissant
Destroying fury
Bringing only disaster upon all heads;
Anarachic, ultra-liberal in there dark and evil slaughterousness:
Slaying even their maker, having no loyalty, cold and cruel:
Delighting only in death, wanton destruction, infamy and cruelty.
No man nor nation should possess these terrible weapons,
Yet too many do.
I am the remnants of a man,
The embers, not the fire;
I am the leavings in the can,
The smile without desire.
Your words came to me so sharp like blades on my heart.
For i had struggled in sweat and tears to play in this life my part.
Now lay i on my tinny brains.
Trying in futility for in.the end it still go down the drains.
Am in the middle of the road now,yet don't know in which direction to turn.
There is a lot of pain in my heart and my brain is black from confusing burn.
Death seems now a solution to peace.
Yet i don't want to because fear entangles my body and
weakens me from having even a little peace.
My destiny has been re-written without permission.
And here am left now in this world struggling at my blood
point for yet an impossible mission.
There is now no hope for tomorrow.
And my life full of blessings and great hopeful end is history
some few seconds ago.
Oh you wicked unknown,why did you choose me ?
Of all men that walked on this earth is it only me you see?
I will look from above and wait.
For my hook for a brighter future he alone can provide a perfect bait.
No dream left now.
Re-write my destiny oh Gracious hand so with a smile i can once
again raise to some hope my eye brow.
once was a tenant
only thing left is a remnant
have much sentiment
The town, betrayed by time passed, lies forsaken.
Lost, lain memories, like tumble weeds, awaken
To the prod of windy wisps, and roll willy nilly,
Hazardously rendering any hope of revival as silly.
Whispers of the past, wind borne, quickly fade,
Always out of hearing, always too soft, under the breath, played.
But, echoing clearly, that what once was, could never be again.
The once vibrant colors and sounds of the town, fade to a stain refrain.
Like tombstones snarled by weeds in cemetery,
The buildings cast shadows gnarled by ancestry
Abandoned, betrayed, cast aside by the hands of time,
The town's beauty unkempt, now shrouded in dust and grime.
The bustling life and laughter that once filled the air,
Are now hushed solemn, reeking with a sense of deep despair,
Ghosts, that are now the only permanent residents,
Drive tourists away, with their hostile reticence.
Abandonment, is all hope lost, forlorn and tossed away,
Into a pile of junk to rot, rust, crumble, flay, decay.
soul submerged in sand
tilted wing in memory
seagull waves good-bye
footnote:
What's the difference between a gull and a seagull?
People who say “seagull,” we assure each other, are wrong. There's no such thing as a seagull—the correct term is simply “gull," because gulls don't live exclusively near the sea. This is a hill many birders have chosen to die on.
There lay a Bear, his swaying fur, his blank stare
Down by my feet
Which have seen no dryness or showering sun
This remnant
This shade of a carcass
That looming presence of a fading power
Demanding respect through his soothing intensity
Paws tucked away behind his shadow
A place for all your troubles
This world's misery
All engulfed within his husky prestige
And beneath his smothering roar
This fur
By my feet
Aside my shadow
The fire calms it with tender caresses
As it mourns its loss
This fur, an echo of a behemoth’s greatness
His blood drenched paws
His bellowing roar
His guilty eyes
His ready shoulders
Tis a shame
We never knew.
© Samir Georges
2006