Best Rend Poems
With the end of days upon them
Nears the time of final battle
In the halls of high Valhalla
Asgard senses its death rattle
In the forest crows the rooster
In the sky the sun does darken
In the cave the hound is howling
To these signs the Aesir harken
Heimdall blows the Gjallarhorn
Dark the rainbow bridge is turning
Vivid lightning cleaves Yggdrasil
Then the central tree is burning
Aesir watch in fascination
See volcanoes spew like fountains
See the heavens splitting open
See the oceans climb the mountains
See the continents convulsing
See the forests burn to ashes
See the sons of Mim awaken
In the fatal lightning flashes
As the winds consume the wasteland
From the south Surtr advances
With his minions tearing corpses
Bright his sword and sharp his lances
Aesir then prepare their weapons
Eyes are clear and arms are steady
The Midgard serpent Jörmungandr
Upon the battle plain is ready
With his heavy hammer Mjolnir
Strides the mighty god of thunder
To do battle with the serpent
And to rend the world asunder
June 30, 2014
N.B. This poem is an Epyllion, a brief narrative poem with a romantic or mythological theme. It is written in trochaic tetrameter, like some of the ancient Eddas.
Glossary:
Ragnarök - Final battle and death of the Aesir
Aesir - The Norse gods
Asgard - one of the Nine Worlds and home of the Aesir
Valhalla - a majestic, enormous hall located in Asgard, ruled over by the chief Norse god Odin
Heimdall - A Norse god who blows his horn to signal the beginning of Ragnarök
Gjallarhorn - Heimdall's horn
Midgard- Middle Earth, or the world of humans
Bifröst - the burning rainbow bridge between Midgard and Asgard
Yggdrasil - The sacred Norse central tree that holds the Nine Worlds
Mim - an Asian renowned for his knowledge and wisdom who has been beheaded. Odin carries around Mím's preserved head and it recites secret knowledge and counsel to him.
Surtr- a fire troll with a flaming sword who sets the world on fire.
Jörmungandr- The world serpent or ouroboros that surrounds the earth and grasps his own tail. When he lets go, the world will end. Jörmungandr's arch-enemy is the god Thor.
Thor - The Norse god of thunder
Mjolnir - Thor's hammer and principal weapon
Hide this bottle from me,
That I could drink
This Chateauneuf du Pape
More tempting than the smile of a maid,
this Saint Emilion sneaky
Who has no saint but the name,
Hide this bottle from me,
This haut c$ote de Beaune,
Straight from the Middle Ages,
This rosé of Provence so sincere
Who would make pretty Bretons blush,
In a creperie of Brest.
Hide this bottle from me,
This Sauternes so sweet, so sweet
That makes high school girls naughty,
Hide me this bottle,
That I might well drink,
This wild little sauvignon,
Love is enough to make me drunk.
Cachez-moi cette bouteille,
Que je pourrais bien boire
Ce Chateauneuf du Pape
Plus tentant que les fesses d’une pucelle,
ce Saint Emilion sournois
Qui n’a de saint que le nom,
Cachez-moi cette bouteille,
Ce haut côte de Beaune,
Venu tout droit du Moyen Age,
Ce rosé de Provence si sincère
Qui ferait rougir de jolies bretonnes,
Dans une crêperie brestoise.
Cachez-moi cette bouteille,
Ce Sauternes si sucré, si doux
Qui rend les lycéennes coquines,
Cachez moi cette bouteille,
Que je pourrais bien boire,
Ce sauvignon peu sauvage,
L’amour suffit à m’enivrer.
The concepts of the Apollonian and Dionysian are famously linked to the philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche. In Greek mythology, Apollo and Dionysus are both sons of Zeus. Apollo is the god of reason and the rational, while Dionysus is the god of the irrational and chaos. The content of all artistic creation is based on the tension created by the interplay between these two.
Dionysian passion fills my soul
With a stream of life that knows no restraint,
Your frantic current defies all control-
Awakens the devil within the saint.
Injected with life, I'm lost in your force
As waves of strange visions rend me apart,
For purpose that has no ending, no source-
Oh, come to my rescue, creative art.
Apollo, come harness this raging stream,
With power of reason, channel the surge,
Reshape my voluptuous, savage dream-
Transmute its horror to aesthetic urge.
Bring order to chaos—hold tight your rein-
Come, challenge this frenzy of energy!
You both are needed—the crazy, the sane-
Dionysus! Apollo! Balance me!
Ash - grey chemised
she shifts her shape
as silver flakes float coat
stripped naked places,
sheath curves and angled spaces
Angry glitter tingle stings
thick earth skin with prickly flames
and rumble rise regurgitates
shimmy - shake shudders
in magma's deep thrombosis.
Her feather boa plume
tightens hot cloud chokehold,
acrid smoke flung up in air
without a care, heat exhumes
her arrival, announced fiery flounce -
Hot air blast flicks ash everywhere
Grande dame, her vital force runs hot,
and bold, red and gold- full blooded flow,
feisty fight to escape fate,
inner pulses push a violent urge
to bleed and drape red lava's cape
across green fields, human habitations
Unplacated, rising up, proud impairment
anger virulent, out of hellbent
immolation via pyramidal vent.
She lifts her tiara, red ruby globs,
hurls evidence in defense - great blobs
of royal reign - no abdication!
Throaty roars rend intonation
into screeching supplications -
She knows full well, soon enough,
her phoenix fate infarction
Too late for earth's burst heart
High drama is a living, dying art
Impassioned pleas too late for some,
Earth's burnout buries victims in her wake
High on an island hill,
the boy lay crushed, and still
on temple altar, throat cut, bled out
Hurried offering, did not appease,
nor bring softening release
for angry, ancient mountain
Head caved in by falling blocks
of measured, square cut stone,
the priest grovelled on his knees
Gravel filled their mouths, no space for pleas
No one heard half- whispered final groans
And Earth, once she settled down,
murmured not another sound
Posted 17/08/2018.
The sun shines in perfect darkness, twirling relentlessly ...
as do a trillion trillion other stars, daubed on the blackest black.
Still, life itself seeds and burgeons in the warmth of its precious light,
its particles, the core of an exquisite balance that brings each heart to thrum,
that breaches hard soil in spring, sings the haunting silence of the wilderness,
and bats lashes like butterflies in the wee hours of the dawning.
Some say, a laugh is just a laugh is just a laugh, thus ... and on,
yet, like Great Sol it can plunge any void, dive the deepest sorrows,
wound the twilight, mortal, and pierce the trembling rib of nightmares.
The shimmering joy it dances upon, is the true essence of ALL ...
nothing else so fills a heart or wakens a soul from mourning,
as crucial as breath and sustenance and affection.
Yes, a laugh is a simple thing, a seemingly trivial and mundane expression,
but it is an arrow sent forth from the bow of joyous reality,
a dart of delight, with the capacity to rend the thickest of shadowy veils.
Yet, like the sun again, it is dependent upon its alter-ego -
It is the shadows and dark realms and agonies and regrets
that make joy so exceptionally precious, and so amazingly sweet ...
you can NOT find one without the other, that is unmitigated, absolute.
Feel your pain - your sorrow, embrace the darkness with all you are,
but do so in the mind that until you HAVE, you won't know true JOY ...
or how splendid, cathartic and giggly wonderful ... it can be.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "The Smile At The Foot Of The Ladder" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.
Gentle wind, please
Go not from me.
Rather hold me in thine uplifting arms.
For thy tender ministrations are my sustenance
Each satin, sweet caress a blessing.
Bold wind, please
Go not from me.
Rather wrap me in whirlwinds' chaos
That play with my garments and tease at my hair
Flowing over, around and through me like a river
Storm wind, please
Go not from me.
Rather entwine me in thy heart
Let me feel thy power, to lay waste and to rend.
Then, when my body fails, rend from it my soul
That it may fly always with the wind
WTF burning bright with pondering ink.
Graceful swans or blackbirds skedaddling
across the vast and empty space. The think
kerplunking into cavernous link.
The quill flying…descriptives diving
onto the writer’s canvas…surviving.
WTF, loud and clear, dear John…
the calligraphic rend of relationship…
The salutation is a haunting paragon.
Parisian-perfumed paper is withdrawn.
The ebony of the crow’s feather, fitting.
His abdominals are eternally splitting.
WTF, wet with mascara tears. Joy
at the indoctrination of its mirth,
bearing personalities of a girl and boy.
To induce was another cousin’s ploy -
joining in on the birth experience fun,
flexing his muscles, nearly triplets spun.
WTF, wading in pools of grace, prayerful rest
of folded hands - serenity glides over vellum.
The ink, so gentle, melodic, transfigured, blessed.
Saint’s swan lyrics - God’s glory expressed.
Whisper of angels, feathers like baby’s-breath.
Resurrected quill in pall of Christ’s death.
Who else, if not a friend,
turns up to rap and rend?
Volodymyr Knyr
2014
Wind drinkers flow with strength and grace.
Thunder pounds from their hooves.
Run wild Mustang, Run.
As one they "run" across parched earth,
born free and "wild" from the time of birth.
Their manes flow "as" water, in the wind.
Hooves dig in, "the" desert floor, they rend.
Full moon at "midnight" leads their way,
while in the night "sky" their ancestors play.
Paula Swanson
For the contest: Middle Of The Road
Sponsored by H Garvey Daniel Esquire
Placement: 1st
I feel it so strongly deep inside the cry of your heart
It but echoes my souls endless fear of being apart
Use your strength to go on with life even though it is hard
Where is life’s joy when treated with such reckless disregard?
I wonder can I ever free you from this endless pain?
My body and soul are laden with such cold heavy chain
Lead me through the maze of your mind, let me break down the wall
The donjon has been built of adamant and shall not fall!
I will rend the dark veil and bright starlight will fill your soul
The battlements long secure crumble, your love makes me whole!
Written by Shane Cooper & A-L Andresen 25.03.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
John Wulf, with his funny Limerick antics telling funny hilarious stories,
“viagraology
There once was a medical study
of things flapping flaccid like putty
those men given placebo
couldn’t enter gazebo
it drove the poor fellas plumb nutty
Copyright © 2015John Wulf”
but also has his very soft spot for all of us
Then there is my very favorite lady, Jan Allison, with all her humorous poems,
ANOTHER VIAGRA POEM HAS JUST POPPED UP - INSPIRED BY EVE ROPER AND JACK ELLISON
It hung so limply like Niagara
Doc told him to take some Viagra
Just one little blue pill
Gave his wife such a thrill
It sticks up so high it could stab ya
Copyright © 2015JAN ALLISON 18th July 2015
but lover her with all our hearts she is the sweeties of them all
Jack Ellison, teasing back and forth with his witty poems,
so who’s the greatest of them all,
OD'd On Viagra
Hickory, Dickory, Dock
Overdosed on Viagra, whatta shock
My wee fellow looked up
Said, “You ain't no pup!”
I cried, “This guy don't go by no clock”
Copyright © Jack Ellison 2015
But a jolly soul because his Santa Jack this year.
Then there’s our Mystic Rose that joins the group with her sense of humor;
A Little Viagra Goes A Long Way
Incline thy ear o-friend of mine
Me poor husband got it bad
He got a dicky that won't pine
Tis sad Tis sad Tis really sad
I heard yours takes Viagra pills
Malone's will not erect nor stay
and yesterday he got the shills
Just letting dicky out to play!
Would you be so kind to send
The medicine that made him sleep
I'll give my hon a pop to rend
His dicky joy, so he can weep
Few tears of joy alongside mine
Oh how my smile would shine
He got a dicky that won't pine
And that's a real bad sign...
Copyright ©Mystic Rose 7/19/2015
so much fun we have here on Poetry Soup
11/13/2015
Poetry Contest : Who Are those funny Poets
Sponsored by: Judy Konos
Fated to Love
Best to simply weigh the heart with a poppy seed
Counter balance on granite
All its rhythmical surging
Its expeditious life
Amounts to nothing
Better then, not to believe in its enchantment
For it is fated to love
And do little else but lead
To ruin
Well-worn to stop up your ears
Lest you hear its background murmurings
Brooding upon devotion
Lacking the power to change anything
But weeps constantly for dreams
Do not then, be deceived
For all the hearts will to achieve
It cannot
But burst inside your veins
Only half remembering what once you never held
Though its truth persists
It lays persecutory back against a lie
The heart would try
But cannot defy the world
Beware then my friends
For that muscular aorta pump and valve
Will lay you stark
And rend open beneath your ribs
And grant you no solace
Or escape
For all in the life of steady beats
It knows nothing of fact
And through your nights survival
Will stab at you with yearning
Brooking no compromise
It shall continue
Craving
Damnable heart I say
To leave me no place to rest
If I could but tear it out
For it taints my eyes with longing
Converting my hours for its keeping
Playing poker faced with deliverance
Trying to cheat destiny
With the price it paid to see me
Counting the cost in when’s
And when
When all the loneliness
Will end
Beware of when; then my friends
For that muscular ventricle pump and valve
Will lay you star-dream-gathering
And break open daily beneath your ribs
And yield to you no solace
But only escapism
Damnable heart I say
To leave me no place to rest
If I could but tear it out
“Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.”
Matthew 7:6
So hard it can be
to take that upward trek
leading from the depths
of resentment’s abyss
where the stench of offensivenss
surrounding you
begins to gag you.
You can sputter and choke on
your horrible displeasure
(a few times in my life I've allowed this to occur)
but how good it felt to rise up
from the pit
where my own shiny pearls
had been hurled back at me
so cruelly.
I knew . . .
I knew very well
my pearls were never meant
for swine.
I say to all who feel that pain
of utterances most profane,
let them not echo in your ears.
Let not others' evil deeds
bring you to their level.
Take that road
that leads you up out of the abyss.
Tread steadfastly
and never look back
until their oaths against you
fade
into
nothingness.
Oct. 17, 2021
For the High Road Poetry Contest
of Regina McIntosh
What loathesome burden wears your weary heart
a trinket on a cold and hoary hand?
And in its dark tide drowns the cheery part
to keep you bound, a pet, upon its strand?
Without a keel, alone and sad, unmanned
to sail the main and brave the tempest storm;
it claims the fairer part with stark demand,
and wails its horrid knell upon reform.
Stand now and rend the pall that kept you warm
and stagnant to the early morning light.
Cast out the deaf'ning rage of crushing swarm
and air the sweetness of your bitter plight.
Release your deathly grip on this disease,
And from your fingers let it fly the breeze.
my angel, fallen ...
gossamer linen, violet lace
window-dressing body, pressing
goddess of unblemished grace
beckoning - urge reckoning
clasp me, push me ... down with you.
close, to see my eyes in yours
heart of darkness, warm and artless
measured with our carnal cores
fallowed - soon, unhallowed
pull me, draw me ... down with you.
savor sweet, your taste is mine
greedy swallows fill my hollows
faultless form, engorged supine
whetted - blade unfettered
cut me, rend me ... down with you.
pity, fawn to take me in
I, the frozen quarry, chosen
bartered virtue, ceded sin
merging - madness surging
gather me, wrench me ... down with you.
each dynamic sates a thirst
a darkened oath devours both
raptured sighs so unrehearsed
spasm - plunging chasm
drench me, drown me ... down with you.
painted nails to flay my frame
stripes of lust, a jealous trust
lesions roused for fervor's flame
unversed - do your worst
stain me, rake me ... down with you.
feral places, once denied
cognate parts to blackened hearts
souls and selves we can't divide
twisted - double-fisted
grind me, burn me ... down with you.
sing to me a siren's wail
rip the rhyme from all sublime
watch the frenzied portions flail
disguised - hell, improvised
smite me, drag me ... down with you.
all in, my angel ... fallen
so sweetly, and
so deeply
down.
with.
you.
** This is a poetic form I created called “Torridelle”, (not the actual shape, but the rhyme scheme, phrasing and metre). **
~
~ 2nd Place ~ in the Poetry Soup "Wow Me" Poetry Contest, Nina Parmenter, Judge & Sponsor.