Best Reprieves Poems
she leans back and points bare toes at clouds
chains creak their rhythmic squeak, hypnotic loud
taken aback, her hair sails slipstream flung
downstream freedom for a moment hung
in mid-air - earth's force gives up its grip
hands sweat, hold tight, they cannot slip...
underneath, grave ground drops and falls away
above, a fraction weightless, she holds sway
swing's song suckle drugs her hungry mind
lids close, sun glows infrared behind
pushed ahead, prow barges coldest breeze -
heady heights drop back to life's sleeze- tease
whistle warns soft shots across neck's nape -
a tug towards untimely no escape
pendulum head, concave waver rocks it
self gives way to backbone's growing grit
back or forth, the dipper croons reprieves unbought
no more a cradle - ladle, once more sought
after - alter course - alter - falter, first
of all, go back, bold, and slake high spirit's thirst
looming dark dips her fears in far off stars'
molten matter - fired white hot globes unbar
eternal flames, external spin as atoms swim
in ether - her thoughts burn bright just for Him
now's the time, now's the place, blown up sky high -
now's the time to kiss the shattered sky.
5th March 2019
Aqua Marine.
"Righteousness and Peace - they have kissed each other. " ( the connection of the two will be as evident to all as is the close association of affectionate friends...) Figuratively, a kiss could represent a demonstration of respect and devotion, and often served as a token of affection.
Categories:
reprieves, growth, introspection, life, motivation,
Form:
Rhyme
I know you're out there
I can hear you ... typing, rat-a-tat-tat
I echo it, but place with intent
each finger-step just SO
each notion a necklace of keystrokes
individually-knotted
pearlescent beauties, round ...
~ I squeeze my mind of chaos, tamped and blessed
Thoughts gossamer, these tapestries I've pressed
'Tween leaves of crimped reprieves, if dispossessed ~
I scream without a face
my voice of subtle silence howling windward
I scratch messages on cell walls
my red breath burnt with the truth of negligence
exquisite sculptures ...
the words dripping like stigmata
Madonna's bloody tears, each precious ...
~ I place these golden dreams in phrased bequests
Bright dazzled shining gems of hearts expressed
Adorned with tender odes to thrum their breasts ~
How do SUCH ears not hear?
How can such breath-embezzling eyes not capture?!?
Should your own gray matter dance a-tongue
its metallic tang of truth would be lost
I would BEG you hate me ... with every fibre
but that is not love's opposite
THAT demon is the monster called 'Indifference' ...
~ I knot the rope wrapped 'round my throat, aware
That you and yours are pleased to kick the chair
Is there naught ONE poetic soul ... should care?? ~
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Does Anyone Care" Poetry Contest, Emile Pinet, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
reprieves, appreciation, introspection, poetry, society,
Form:
Free verse
There’s a horse that I so hate to see,
and at night sometimes he visits me.
His attacks to my thigh
make me think I might die.
Wild "Charley Horse" acts horribly.
For he comes out of nowhere, so fast!
And he brings a sharp pain like a blast.
I scream like a loon
hit by a harpoon.
Then my husband awakens aghast!
But my hubbie can’t help me. That horse,
though invisible, has such great force!
How I love my reprieves
when the little beast leaves.
But his kind never stays gone, of course!
My poor calf he attacked in a pool
while I swam, and I felt like a fool
as I floundered around.
Well, I could have drowned!
He’s a mean little horse and a ghoul.
He’s got kin, and they all like the game
of bringing folks pain. One has fame
of attacking your womb
in a hospital room.
Now THAT one puts Charley to shame!!
By Andrea Dietrich
(note to those who do not know this common
American expression: Charley Horse is a leg cramp
and all the his kin are assorted types of cramps!)
For PD's "Any Poem Goes" Contest
Categories:
reprieves, funnyhorse,
Form:
Limerick
On the streets of sin city, on the high roller's main drag,
Known as the Las Vegas Strip, a gentlemen phantom
Does stroll dressed in all black attire, striding forth with his golden Cain,
Flipping a silver chip into the air, and mocking at its power.
The devil's agent of deception is he, retaining a list of names
To collect upon, this gentlemen bandit of the forsaken.
He is here on the dark master’s behalf, ready to claim on
The I.O.U's signed by the greedy, and innocence fallen.
Quietly, moving amongst the crowded venues, he waits
Until his lord calls the name of the unlucky, to be reposed.
Dance do the neon lights, flashing towards pleasure dens of iniquity,
As ladies whom belong unto the night itself, offer their
Tokens of favor, for a working man's paycheck.
Black jacks twenty-one, cut those cards, and pass them out
The first timers dumb luck, will deliver him unto evil,
On this walkers dead man's list tonight.
Against the loaded dice, no soul is left unsanctified,
On the sacred green velvet altar, the wheel of fortune
Spins out of control, then hitting the baccarat tables
Wooden wall, someone screams snake eyes.
Then all is lost, faded are the dreams of illusion, melting away
Into the harsh desert soil, along the road side leading to sin city.
Beneath the arid sandy duns, lies the grave yard
Of the unknown unidentified, a missing persons
Smorgasbord of the rich and infamous, lying right
Beside, the unreported poor man corpse.
This is the Grim Reapers play ground, taunting
And tormenting, those begging for redemptions
Last chance to gain a reprieves pardon.
But when tapped by his golden cain of death,
Your life's essence has wagered it's last bet,
To the winner goes the spoils, and now you
Belong unto the devil.
People say what happens in Vegas stays
There, and rightly so will he agree, with his blackened
Heart and soul, for after all is this not
The capital of hell on earth, known as
Sin City, Las Vegas, Nevada.
The populations of the undead just added
Another’s names tally and the gentlemen
Dressed all in black, is sent a wandering
Again amongst the crowed streets, to claim
Another victim in the dark master’s wrath of
Vengeance.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
reprieves, adventure, america, evil, halloween,
Form:
Free verse
Walk does he not the specter of death,
His saith raised high, even he himself has had
Enough killing, on the battlefield of Gettysburg,
Satan screams, stop sons of men, truly war
Is hell on earth.
Time's spiritual voices cry out, as the wind
Blows through the tall over grow grasses,
Of this Pennsylvanian State park.
Injured spirits, roam as phantom soldiers,
Seeking salvation's reprieves preservation,
From their damnation.
On the Devil's Den reddened rock, centuries
Still stand guard, knelling sharp shooters,
Fire at will, as the drummers beat, at rhythm’s
Death march.
Gun powers burnt smell fills the air,
As the loud canons echo in the distance,
Mayhem's discord has left destruction's
Bloodshed, these numbers estimation
Of flesh and bone, are guessed yet it's
Resolution unknown.
Blown are the horns of Calvary’s call,
Reinforcement’s sacred hesitating for aid,
But none come to it's deadening's sounding.
Mourn do the orphan's of war, in their fathers
Name, so they do weep in sorrow remembrance.
A war-ravaged companion, lead by freedom
Seekers, the end to release bondage’s salves,
Stain our great country with it's own blood.
Brother against brother, two flags of belief
Striking each other, north vs the south,
Behold it was the American Civil War.
A revolutionary uprising of idealism,
That all man have the right to be free,
And live without the chains of oppression.
It is in this haunted place, at cemetery ridge,
That the final battle lines are marked in
Bloods deadliest charge ahead.
Many souls still serve here, never shall
They know the light of peace.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
reprieves, america, history, imagery, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
I listened for the rain,
it emerged slowly now and again
from a crepuscular caliginus sky,
the tenebrous mist that trickled down lightly in the by and by
as if they were drops of salted tears
shed by an unseen entity's fears;
it was the dream that seemed far away
to hover throughout the day
with scattered light cool breezes
beating and flushing the tree leaves into the eaves,
spitting, spewing, snaking, swirling for all to see
stretching just above the distant canopies;
for once the weather predictions were spot on,
it remained overhead for three days within the briar
each day more intense than the prior,
no reprieves as it fell west to east
and cycled back again from the ocean to land to feast
on shorelines, forests and homes as if a wild, relentless beast;
the drops were big and cold
chilled by some northeast winter's scold
quiet then loud drumming on every roof,
streams and puddles formed aloof
into places where footsteps once abound,
the earthy musk odors rising from the ground,
now the lush grass rolled over
patted down the pelted clover
bowing in submission to the stormy drover;
I heard its' tumultuous cry
rocking, pitching while on the fly
without a whisper or a word before it died,
I heard it,
the rain sighed.
Categories:
reprieves, analogy, rain,
Form:
Rhyme
Drink Thee, Cool Water From Hope's Bright, Clear Streams
( Hold True, Hope Shall Reward Thee )
Hope soars so far above earth's highest peak
miracles given the strong and the weak.
Rest thy weary soul in Hope's dear reprieves
not in man's vanity that so deceives.
In Love and Mercy's realms, Hope's truth resides
maintain thee faith to make colossal strides.
Obey thy heart, hold true to thy sweet dreams
drink thee, cool water from Hope's bright, clear streams.
Look forward in that O' so brilliant Light
walk thee not in blindness of despair's night.
In heart's deep desire, rests Hope's great treasure
by deep faith, receive thy fullest measure.
With candle lit, fear not night and dark pain.
On that true path, Hope will always remain.
Robert J. Lindley, 5-11-2017
Sonnet(10,10,10,10)
Part Four- of Hope and its greatest treasures.
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 110
Note: This the fourth of the five to be written, was extremely hard for me to compose. I hope it has not disappointed and has maintained the high standard
of this 5 part composition on the great treasures Hope so often rewards the faithful.
Categories:
reprieves, art, beautiful, blessing, heart,
Form:
Sonnet
I know you're out there ...
I can hear you ... typing, rat-a-tat-tat
I echo it, but place with intent
each finger-step, just SO
each notion a necklace of keystrokes
individually-knotted ...
pearlescent beauties, round ...
~ I squeeze my mind of chaos, tamped and blessed
Thoughts gossamer, these tapestries I've pressed
'Tween leaves of crimped reprieves, if dispossessed ~
I scream without a face
my voice of subtle silence howling windward
I scratch messages on cell walls
my red breath burnt with the truth of negligence
exquisite sculptures ...
the words dripping like stigmata
Madonna's bloody tears, each precious ...
~ I place these golden dreams in phrased bequests
Bright dazzled shining gems of hearts expressed
Adorned with tender odes to thrum their breasts ~
how do SUCH ears not hear?
how can such breath-embezzling eyes not capture?!?
should your own gray matter dance a-tongue
its metallic tang of truth would be lost ...
I would BEG you hate me ... with every fibre
but that is not love's opposite
THAT demon is the monster called 'indifference' ...
~ I knot the rope wrapped 'round my throat, aware
That you and yours are pleased to kick the chair
Is there naught ONE poetic soul ... should care?? ~
... not one?
Categories:
reprieves, analogy, care, metaphor, wisdom,
Form:
Free verse
The Plea, Heal Me After All That I Have Been Through
You a heavenly body. So sweet
Your kisses would make this heart skip a beat,
Paying you adoration, shall be a great treat,
Since that summer, time and love have both flown
Your tender heart knows not how I have grown,
And my past ways now do truly disown,
Among winter's weeping and dying leaves
Lives a broken soul that so deeply grieves,
Its prayers begging from above, reprieves,
Now that days too oft resembles dark nights
Moon balks, refusing to alter its sights,
My darkness absolute, I cry for lights,
You a true goddess so wondrously made
To see again, anything I would trade,
Alas! Pray I your image will not fade,
Your exaltation, weeping spirit weaves
From dreams of touch that never deceives,
For greatest of hope, this mortal believes,
Good things come to he who faithfully waits
begging love's rewards, not tempting dark Fates,
to deny true love again before the Pearly Gates,
O' goddess, mercy please return to me
Without you I am as a dying tree,
A ship in a dark and deserted sea,
Look upon this wretched dishearten man
For truth in your love restore if you can,
Holding you once more, has been my plan,
These many decades heart has deeply bled
Holding memories of our nights instead,
Now abandoned I feel entombed and dead,
Return your love lost before I perish
For no other beauty do I cherish,
End my torment that is so nightmarish,
Let true romance gift us our love anew
In heaven's light, be we wedded as two,
Heal me after all that I have been through,
You a heavenly body. So sweet
Your kisses would make this heart skip a beat,
Paying you adoration, shall be a great treat,
R.J. Lindley, November 9- 1979
Tripled Rhymes,
( Words cast from a shattered soul and broken heart )
Note:
This dark into a torn apart heart eats
birthing ravages from deep epic defeats
as day and night hurl grief as falling pain
and I seek that no mortal can attain!
Ubi amor vere mortuis resurrectionem non esse?
Categories:
reprieves, art, deep, feelings, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
LUCY
Born on ‘break dawe
Amber seeping across
Eyes th’were slumber behold
Her rise slow from dep’s azure
Pregnant buzz, breeds through chill moss
Brims ‘vr damp leaves
An unchasten world longs
Amber seeping across
A dilute earth humming
Awaiting warm release
Anticipation
Brims ‘vr damp leaves
Aware…There’s something coming
Slow spread of sparkling teardrops
Dancing at ease
Captured by richness
Awaiting warm release
At once cyan erupts!
Beauty blinding, she reprieves
Dominating clear sky
Warmed teal ‘wash moves spry
Dancing at ease
Evermore affords her lucent centre, underneath yarely
Here, she comes beam'ly
Glow, rising warmly
My divine… Lucy.
Categories:
reprieves, beauty, desire, environment, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
No road elects to prune
a wavy path past mindless
parts of this life,
resembling our ghosts,
my love
I need no hearing,
no strings and
no sounds,
I need only hear your voice...
No love selects a raindrop's
teary glide,
that leaves a broken heart
unheeded,
my love
Those wails we use to un-robe
a sheath of repeated loss,
Demand we know...
and say no,
the second before we deplete
the trust
My love,
I know no worth
beyond the faith you bestow on me
No right to think
aside from that storied
black man steel
My world elects to choose
your captive smile,
kept in tow for him...
to signify
my love denied
My love,
That welts and strain
wrap our shared images with a glare
is an un-repeated refrain,
of the sunlight at dawn
That strands of desolation
retain misguided parity
with our measured truth,
is dusk's residual question
When rivers line up neglected masses
of sand
and our curative rain ceases,
in the resulting twilight...
We can only call belief, endurance,
and call sanity...brave
We invoke a fictive trust
replete with faith
For our elusive love to live
endessly
With you, my love,
We ask questions of fate,
that dies under rocks
unturned...
unheard...
Until the fate itself
loses its life
in a lost dream's unneeded
disguises
Our triumphs
call our dark moments reprieve
when all else fails
We lose our loves
in reprieves and dreams,
for our daring sanity
to stay brave
We call for each other's loves
to return like haunted dreams
To say for you my love. Unsaid.
And for me your love...
to never know
for sure...
Categories:
reprieves, sad love, endurance,
Form:
THE EMPRESS OF IRELAND
Two mighty workhorses, colliding Titans,
Leviathans of the Saint Lawrence river.
Devastation’s maritime wrecking balls,
Slamming head on, even after the warnings
Sounding, had been given, by Captain Kendall.
Emerging on the starboard side, a distant light
Did shine, from the masthead on high.
The tramper steamer, S.S. Storstad,
Heavily loaded by coals freight,
Didn't hear the captain's hailing.
Lost within an eerie, thickened fog bank,
All hands struggled in full reverse,
But the wheels of fate, had been set,
In motions wake, and it was
Coming straight towards them, at
Rapid speeds full velocity.
Horns rang out, life boats were lowered
Broad side, voices yelled abandon ship,
Captured unaware, shaken from their beds.
Passengers scrabbled to the higher
Decks elevation, as the chilling waters
Slashed through the torn apart,
And breached forward hull.
Death's black ghost ship, lies moored
Near by, ready to take on board, it's
Newest crew members, the grim
Reapers flag, flies at half mast.
Until the full compliments roll call, has
Been filled, by the dead's unwilling
Volunteers.
Clinging to the life raft of spiritualism,
The living pray, for a last reprieves
Salvation, a miracle to save them,
But hell's vessel awaits and it's
Master has no mercy.
Histories stretches a gray shroud,
Across the debris field, as their
Voices grow silent, beneath the
brimey deep.
A lone, cold, monument does stand,
At Rimouski St-Germain cemetery , in Quebec, Canada.
Expressing the details of this misfortune.
But it will never satisfy the sorrows felt,
By the survivors or family members
Whom were lost that early May morning.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
reprieves, boat, death, imagination, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
you gathered my mind - back streets, alleys ...
again ... one thought only, piqued by a sound, exquisite.
times so vibrant and delirious that all was a fever ... so
much forbidden food I engorged behind a mask, then spit
gently, the seeds, to find purchase where they may. So
wrong and bright ... so dark and right ... mind and body
thrown on the potter's wheel of a beast, manipulated so
by innate intent, that I spun no mortal mercy of my own.
A magnetic draw far beyond my sinew and vitality. To thus
worship all that is not, to fawn at fear's reprieves, and fall
by the altar, sordid and blood-ripe. To rend the sour Eden
leaves, and taste their bitter glory, to watch the last full
breath of a saint stand briefly in the winter air, and move
my cheek against it ... to hear the first gasp drawn by a
monster in innocence and nascency, and press my palm
to quell. Why? Why not?? Such was brought forth amidst
pain to scrape the spillings of a febrile feast, sorrow ever
waiting, watching, holding my hand in the dark. Nails dug
into flesh at the prayer that Mercy might come to shine
in the night ... but the WAIT, oh, that accursed wait can
devour you whole. Let the minutes go, or the hours will
let go YOU, and the days will be ghosts ... years but the
whispers of a phantom. Loose the wrongs and reasons -
like all the darkened deeds of a backward glance, they are
DONE ... if not, mark the dour glint in their eye, and heed
well the crack of your bones, as they consume all you are ...
and COULD be.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "In The Back Streets Of My Mind" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Religion Or Philosophy Poetry Contest", Kai Michael Neumann, Sponsor.
Categories:
reprieves, farewell, forgiveness, history, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
Fresh spring green was I when first born
Upon a sunny late March morn
But a deeper emerald I became
Drenched by April’s pounding rain
All summer long I held my own
Granting reprieves with shadows thrown
For picnics I provided shade
Feeling such joy as children played
But bodies change as seasons pass
Now multi-hues I have amassed
Yellow, amber and crimson red
But I still hung as others fled
The nearby oak is now stripped bare
Upon the soil my mates lay there
Maple leaves too have joined the pile
And I’m the last to stay awhile
Many colors adorn below
Paths where fall hikers like to go
I’m in God’s hands; he holds the keys
But oh, dear Lord, here comes a breeze
*20 lines
Categories:
reprieves, life, nature,
Form:
Personification
Strikingly Naked
By Odin Roark
Voicing the reflection one sees insures
the facade really is,
was,
must have been.
Time passes…
How smoky the reflection,
this aging identity of accumulated distortion,
where once perception played innocently,
found disguises to hide behind,
who now past the age of innocence,
sees the exposed abyss of shadowed deceptions.
Such awareness knows well the mirror,
where cognizance of the make-believe
beckons the right light,
the flattering shade,
the required eye-sparkle of denial,
no matter the reality.
At some point…
Behind the rehearsed and performed persona,
we raise the inner window
revealing the self-of-fact,
that place where we gulp
what air is left,
sucking up any reserved willingness
blowing in from subterranean shores
to help beat back our self-imposed exile.
One surges forward…
Pulls open the only door
the entrance we feared opening,
an opening your inner monologue
always whispered was there
but you chose to remain imprisoned
by the mirror.
Revelation…
The door now open,
leads to other doors,
so small they seem
as you bend, crawl,
find other rooms,
windowless cubbyholes,
where night sweats
and endless reprieves
once kept you breathing,
albeit your own recycled dead air.
How rewarding…
To see for the first time,
your own recidivist delusions
reverberating like shattered emulations,
blinding your eyes with its refractive light,
burning through regrettable behavior imprisoned,
where no steel bars were ever necessary,
where a place of truth awaited,
a wilderness you are finally ready to explore.
Such is the manifest moment…
When you couldn't be so strikingly naked,
had you not kept yourself so carefully dressed
all those years.
Categories:
reprieves, truth, vanity,
Form:
Prose Poetry