Best Roughshod Poems
And as the hills yonder
Turned red from sunset rays
As darkness engulfed the valley
And the sweet sounds of birds
Rent the cool evening air
Our cows and sheep and goats
Hurried down the footpath
As though they were late
To a gathering of clans
Or to one of their own
And we the happy herds' boys
Turned our ravenous thoughts
To bananas yams and milk
And all available munch-able stuff
To calm our restless tummies
And as the evening metamorphosed into night
And the stars of the sky reclaimed their might
We the famished children of the valleys
Approached the fireside with widening eyes
As the roughshod soldiers laid claim to all
And shot in the air to frighten us all.
And so we watched with pangs of hunger
Training our wrath and rancor and dismay
To other sons and daughters of Africa
Who for reasons best known to them
Or known only to their heartless handlers
Proclaimed themselves ‘defenders of our freedom.’
Voila! Children of the valleys of Africa
And of the cities and slums of Africa
You who gather in the evening breeze
After torrid days in the fields and streets
Only to return to a darkening sky
Sans food sans wear sans light. Voila!
Categories:
roughshod, africa, children, poverty,
Form:
Free verse
Wrathful tears ripen shame
and sows conscience-stricken seeds of self-loathing.
Scourged by the storm’s desolate dirge
this flimsy canopy offers no protection
as the wind-driven rain rides roughshod over me.
Susan Ashley
April 9, 2019
Categories:
roughshod, anger, betrayal, heartbreak, love
Form:
Free verse
"Angel Through the Wires"
Are you an Angel?
Speaking
through my words?
You stand by me always,
as I walk roughshod
through this world.
I see your reflection
in my eyes
Mirror Silent
Revolution Image,
but you are not here,
You are in my dreams,
a cameo appearance
every now and again,
a beautiful surprise,
you say,
"Always speak The TRUTH, never tell lies".
You say,
"Hold my HEART
in yours.
Here is the real fire -
ETERNAL DOOR -
GOLDEN CHORD,
it stretches never broken,
always
TRUST
my word,
BELIEVE
it is always there to hold,
although unspoken".
You are singing
me HOME,
I answer your call
returning
to your peaceful
golden world, your
Tender Mooring shores.
Angel
road map on your skin,
you showed me
when I was a mere child
Your mirrors wet with tears,
you were frightened to let go -
You looked right through my windows,
8 years of my soul.
You said,
"Lay with me, for a little while
listen to me breathe",
you whispered in the dark,
so soft and gently.
Safe from blood suckers
under gauze net,
smell of Tiger Oil
and Frangipani,
in the Summer
of our impending loss and
your heart wrenching regret.
You and I,
we went for a little sleep
for a little while,
you fell first,
while I listened
to you breathe and
my eyelids dropped
with childish fears,
we both lay together
dreaming
dreams so still
We went to sleep
for but a little while
I met you in my dreams.
You delivered to me
all your stories
all throughout the little while
all throughout the years.
(Lovejoy-Burton/2 March 2018)
for K. & M. with ALL my LOVE.
for G. with ALL my LOVE.
for my mother with ALL my LOVE.
for my father with ALL my LOVE.
Easter 2018
John 15:12-13
(STORY: John 15 (NIV) "The Vine and the Branches")
for the One who died on the cross for ALL of us,
with ALL my LOVE.
Categories:
roughshod, angel, daughter, heaven, jesus,
Form:
Free verse
In my youth, I am sure I was slim,
a figure both modest and trim;
but now I am old, I'm frequently told
my features are wrinkled and grim.
As a girl, I was agile and quick,
my dancing was stylish and slick;
but sadly it’s gone, I just hobble on
now helped with the aid of a stick.
I attracted young boys by the score,
un-limited lovers, galore.
No more sex appeal, instead they all reel
and claim I'm a dowdy old bore.
In my prime, I would argue, roughshod,
Demosthenes then was my god.
But now I just drone, I mumble and groan
and gripe like a grumpy old sod.
All day I just look at the walls;
the clock on the mantelpiece crawls.
But is that a knock, a turn of the lock?
I do hope that somebody calls.
~
For Black Eyed Susan's 'Aging' Competition.
Categories:
roughshod, nostalgia, retirement, old, old,
Form:
Verse
Livin' won't mean a dang thing!
If killin' is how ya survive!
Killin' does dishonor bring!
with being wanted dead or alive!
Every lawman knows yer name!
tellin' everybody what ya did!
the fastest draw gets the fame!
yet, on the run stayin' hid!
There's alway an hombre packin' tough!
a rowdy drunk or ornery fool!
just woundin' a gunslinger ain't enough!
death lays the safest rule!
On the run, gotta stay alert!
wild injuns everywhere!
livin' in caves, sleepin' on dirt!
like a mean ol' grizzly bear!
Shootin' straight 'n' lightning fast!
it's how I aimed, and did!
runnin' roughshod, mimics the past,
for me..."The Rawhide Kid!"
Always gonna remember,
my sweetie pie back home,
keeps burnin' like an ember,
knowin' she's all alone.
Categories:
roughshod, adventure, fantasy, imagination,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
A northeaster snow storm is rampaging air
A roughshod young warrior, launching ice as a spear
Without any warning, he comes from nowhere
bending trees into sickles, while he conquers with fear
Plowing up roads with a gust and a till
Burying leaves along the gutters and streets
Furrowing rows out of valleys and hills
Prodding the herds with a howl and a shriek
The sun takes retreat with solemn dismay
and holds fast his tongue with whimpering sounds
Rendering helpless, behind hail and flay
Biding his time, while the snow pelts the ground
From the sphere of the dawn, into cold afternoon
war is schooled by the whims of the moon
___________________________________________________
Contest: "Pick A Subject" ----Storm
Resubmitted for Brian Strand's Contest: 219
Categories:
roughshod, nature, storm,
Form:
Sonnet
repugnant racist republican reviled - rickettsia re:itch ruler.
rapaciously ravaged revered reverential rubric.
radical ruthless renegade rapidly riotously rips rigged ramparts.
refrains retaining remnant redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
riches rudely rupture rooted rectified rights.
ruckus ricochets revenant reign.
ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
rumbustious rapscallions rollick; render ruinous ramifications.
rusty razor razing revenge rents reprisal.
rabid rectal rictus rotten rebrands re-calibrate.
rambunctious revolutionaries rejoice.
ruffians ride roughshod routing reigning royalty.
reiterate revetting robust recidivist rationality.
ride Rolls Royce relentlessly rendering rock ribbing.
riffraff raconteur raise reactionary response.
revisit rancorous restrictive redlined realigned rightward rivets.
robocop ridiculously rubber-stamped reorganization.
recalcitrant reactors release rapture.
rash Russian roulette reconnaissance raconteurs rack rubles.
red room reflects republican RNA.
rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats revoke righteous refulgent repertory.
rapier robed robbers ransack reliquary resounding retaliation.
retaliatory redcoat regnum reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiling rapprochement
raison d'être rosily revered rifled relics raffled.
rookie raves ripe rackful rubenesque reliably ranked.
refulgent rotundity requisite requirement re: reappointment.
road-tested, roadworthy redeem reapportion routed role.
reprehensible reassignment rapidly recognizes response.
rife rampage removes respectability - respect.
responsible roused restitution refuted.
risky resultant reconnoitering runaway railroad reverberates rivalry.
reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirms redoubling ridding revitalization.
reconfiguration realpolitik reinstates repudiation
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
requisition requires resilient reseeding republic.
regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing.
rare recount restoring recondite renown reprobate Rapunzel.
Republican representatives rejoice reclaiming reins
registering retarded romantic remains
re: Rastafarian revered reliquary rests!
Categories:
roughshod, allusion, analogy, confusion, crazy,
Form:
Alliteration
Thy birth on January 13th –
cervical contractions
would not abate
the pesky master (papa), strove
to synchronize seminal bait
thence, forty-two weeks
after ma parents did pro create
imminent lviii plus years ago to date,
this present baby boomer doth
indubitably and inherently equate
nineteen hundred and fifty nine
bequeathed birthed mine kempf ill fate
neurological manifestation,
sans obsessive compulsive did grate
behavioral motif and analogous
to frontispiece per story I hate
of my life and hard times,
when all of a sudden out blue irate,
the onset of emotional nadir,
where ballistic ordnance bombed away
fancy free, innocent, naïve boyhood
decrying, detonating,
and describing me own Pigs Bay
Allied, linkedin, and synced Luftwaffe
and Panzer division invasion that clay
like materiel within southern cerebral hemi
sphere inroads usurped no delay
riding roughshod via synapse straits sporting
scoring sorties using every
axe n newer on dread did
Swiss hide dill naught
to decimate with spirited ghost
of William Tecumseh Sherman
determination tuff flay
leaving not one iota (oft times)
referenced as gray
matter unaffected quite aware
of rebellious confederated voices
yelling “HOORAY”
Sabotaging orbitofrontal communication
incorporating connection between anterior
cingulate gyrus cortex heightening activity
bridging (via atom sized pontoon bridges)
greater activity upon basal ganglia, which
synoptic description does nothing to alter
the predisposition to ingress of un control
able imbecilic, inexplicable, and illogical
fixation particularly during onset of puberty,
when an emotional kamikaze nose dive
at nadir of near lifelessness, the shadow
of me former self nowhere tubby found
on account of deadly symbiotic relationship.
Categories:
roughshod, growth, hate, hurt, self,
Form:
Bio
There is a brush of wind sweeping roughshod over the shore
Festering foamy white caps on the crest of the waves
Disembodied voices I think I've heard before
Are rising from the mist of the liquid haze
White-feathered angel wings spreading wide and low
Swoop down below the angry crimson wide
Welcoming home the trollers, row by weary row
As the beacon skims the waters, and the coming of the tide
The sun is clinging helplessly, on the edges of the earth
As one last vessel, trudges in, looking worn and spent
Lagging far behind, and longing home and hearth
Yet with sense of work well done, after long day's sweat,
It burrows in, at end of day, from all those travels, far
The one last vessel, weary worn, cuts a furrow in the stars
For Francine's Contest :"On The Ocean Waves"
Categories:
roughshod, nature, work, ocean,
Form:
Sonnet
She slow- slips feet in poems
Tears trickle from sky- high eyes
down earth's cheeks to find the stream
I love your long water veils
abseiling splashed self down,
streaming gently life's sheer sails
Father shows me a true source-
Tugela springs from plateau
spread out with windblown scrub.
Symbiosis exists here.
Vague thoughts of Virginia
wading, stone-weighted pockets
dragged her down deep to depths...
A mind burst by selfdoubt's clouds
touch my unresistant heart.
There's only one way to go,
trained by firmament's full flow-
downpour your loyal consort
sending mind subservient-
twisting those transcendant traits
through trails of least resistance
Aah, River! You flow fullsome
as you rush, rapids gushing
roughshod through brim-filled banks.
Thunder hails soaking cloudbursts-
Storms suit well- recessed levels-
Overflow forms new outlets
shaped by pushing poweshift.
Repost from 07/03/2016, in reverse, with adjustments...sometimes just have to change life's direction... : )Reposted: 13/10/2016
Categories:
roughshod, change, imagery, poetess, poetry,
Form:
Alliteration
Hark! He is the most high and holy God
Ave! the humble young Christ, hung roughshod
Look at his hands – holding spiritual health
Listen to his heart – host of common wealth
Eureka! how we long for - Haven of hope
Lo! the Harbor, when in hell’s hole we grope
Utopia! heaven - our eternal home
Jesus, the Hunter, the Helper, Shalom!
Amen! He halts us in the heat of haste
Hallelujah! if you hunger to be graced
As we celebrate Easter 2014
Categories:
roughshod, god, heaven,
Form:
Acrostic
"The Very Best Is Yet To Come"
Though ominous be the clouds that
show unexpectedly to darken
Though roughshod be the road
that daily one does trod
Though difficult be the moments
that try one's patience
Though fearful it will seem
one won't overcome the odds
Do know that in spite of these
HE sees all your tribulations
Do know that HE will enter and
make them less burdensome
Do know that when HE's for you
"NOTHING" can be against you
Do know these words are true....
"The Very Best Is Yet To Come!"
Though hurtful be the heartaches
that seem to have no end
Though uncertain be the certainties
that to the eyes bring tears
Though distasteful to the palate
and quite bitter to the taste
Though frightening be the visions
that heighten all the fears
Do know HE'll not forsake you
HE will come and "have your back"
Do know that HE'll come bring you "Light"
and remove the worrisome
Do know that when HE's for you
"NOTHING" can be against you
Do know these words are true....
"The Very Best Is Yet To Come!"
Though trying be the times
that grow worse by the minute
Though meaningless become those things
we cherished above all
Though crushing becomes the grip of life
that takes the breath out of us
Though cruel be the devil
who will make big dreams go small
Do know HE will cup and hold you
in HIS mighty hands
Do know HE will give you strength
and not let you succumb
Do know that when HE's for you
"NOTHING" can work against you
Do know these words are true....
"The Very Best Is Yet To Come!"
(WTA-IV)
3/10/2016
Categories:
roughshod, blessing, courage, devotion, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
THE BRAVE MAN STANDS - THE COWARD LEAVES.
I stood watching the first snowflake’s battle action :
First of a horde – a first-flake trumpeter announcing
The immense white horde’s cold intention
Of riding roughshod and merciless over everything,
Last week my friendly leaves burned gold,
But their cold heat was an illusion,
No warm defence ‘gainst the winter cold.
Theirs was no flame of defensive passion
It was a mere seeming fire-moat,
But a dying fire, not burning - just the yellow
Of coward leaves running and turning coat
At the hint of a white army certain to follow.
Cold golden souls trembled as wind bit their shape,
And to the air they wildly took, fleeing, trying to escape –
Tumbling in panic for a while, rising slowly to drop like tears.
Above the wood for another mile then fell to rest with craven peers.
Widely then under the boughs of laden yellow leaf
Spread a sorry carpet of brave summer come to grief.
They were blown to the river - not to flame ,
But with dampened ardour to run ungainly, with shame,
And float ignominiously, and collect their coward fellows
In unranked masses at the slack black shallows.
Among the faded reeds and river weeds
Hiding their terror and their coward’s deeds
Where brave summer had reigned in wood and river
Now only poltroons were seen to shiver.
They fled on the run out of the wood -
Fair weather friends abandoning me as I stood.
Categories:
roughshod, nature, summer, river, summer,
Form:
Personification
A gaunt face
wizened by time,
portrays
a no-nonsense
man of convictions,
poor, yet proud
of his
heritage.
And yet,
beneath that
roughshod look
I glimpse a kind heart
and soul, suggesting he’s
more
human than he seems.
Categories:
roughshod, angst, art, beautiful, feelings,
Form:
Verse
I'm a speech punk; kind of a menace
Not sure if the word is permissible in these parts
But that's the word I need, life's a furnace
So flush that. Gosh, you leave me no choice
I'm trying to speak, hear my voice in the whisper
Through the walls of disparaging noise
This is the true genesis of your lyrical nemesis
Within the lofty walls of these subliminal premises
So join me in these choruses
If you are tired of all those empty promises
I know some will hold on to being cynical
And insist that so and so is not tyrannical
On the offensive, trying to sound authentic
I’m getting tired of these old nonverbal diatribes
Untried ideological theories from war times
Self-proclaimed superheroes asking for more time
Descending heavily on dissenters
I find it interesting. You insist on destruction
But cry foul over the consequential sanctions
Questions leading to more questions
Your overarching approach is nonsensical
You're overreaching, overreacting
Flashing knives and talking peace treaties
I choose reason, so I'll be philosophical
Through and through until people know the truth
I'll show you who is master in this class
Through the looking glass, looking straight ahead
Hard forehead set against their hardcore hearts
Delicate apples of eyes rolling upon these surfaces
Don't forget light shines in the darkness
These are obviously obnoxious princes of madness
Gospel hardened bumpkins, hard of hearing
Pluck off their ear muffs and remove the earplugs
I don't know, it's the starkness
Of their skewed vision and aversion to reality
Posing, for whatever reason, as minimalists
And all of us losers attempting to look strong
Strolling roughshod on dog dump filled terrain
They say without travail there are no babies
So, I'm caught barefoot in this hell of a place
No name, upstart among folks with no faces
Clasping hands holding back nervous chuckles
Upon the sight of my adversaries' bleeding knuckles
Section such and such paragraph this and that
Yeah, voiceless man quoting verses
Telling the man with the pitchfork to get lost
Categories:
roughshod, hip hop, rap,
Form:
Free verse