Best Scimitar Poems
Enroling you a worm (cumbersome and)
hairy, you- scimitar of leaves
Knows the pain ,writhing pupae
Abandoned and convicted
Constricted hanging straightjacket
Squirming like a jackrabbit
Gagged nocturnally - blindfold humility
Rejected by those mocking moths
and jealously believing left the key
Both found our grace on bended knees
..left there dangling from a tree..
Unhinge now those spinakers of glory
Pretty - flaky- flinder
Streaked in splatters paint
Dust of the fairies
Gaze at me with criss-cross eyes
Innocent beauty oh ye butterfly
Spiny antennae, stretching out transmitters
Taking flight so easily
Flitting off with no goodbyes
To a newer afternoon over there
Dashing in the sun
Kneeding and gouging all those zinnias
Joy! Slurping up the nectar
Whisky! Tequila! Brandy and Champagne!
Swops them for a chorus of pansies
Dancing blooming flowers
Crazy blessed colours
Bouncing delight.- erratic in flight
Dodging in between the bees
O enchanted mystic butterfly
Only pausing for a while
Hold me in your spell
For you walked that crooked mile
Linger in this dream
So seldom comes to see
Just as you, my timepiece too
Is coiled in spring
A dustpuff within the wind
Specked all over pollen confetti
Envied now by every moth
Suicidal circle - one kamikaze candle
Seared and singed and slowly fried
Getting what theyre vetted for
But the sun his laughing in his sky
Beseeching all the yet to open flowers
Awake !Awake!
An angel is coming by
Categories:
scimitar, angel, beauty, butterfly,
Form:
Free verse
Rising from the desert sand
was a shimmering mirage
of a thousand shouts
Heated winds of fanaticism,
intense and blowing violently loud
Shrill calls to blood prayer seethe,
breathing fiery invocations
of a perverted philosophy
Screaming death to the infidels —
a scarlet smeared mirror reflecting
black cloth covered savagery
Crimson prayers are the daubed untempered mortar
which cements the foundation of this shakily rising kingdom
Whet the glittering scimitar swung grisly:
Beheadings are the blade’s
propaganda recruitment shock TV
Desert crisis ... dreaded carrion claws of ISIS,
oasis mirage bathe the sociopaths in bloody bliss
Mutilated bodies floating upon the desert sea,
a raised dark flag boasts of a fleeting victory
Prideful utterances of unspeakable barbarity
Contemned caliphate mercurial rising ...
now descending quickly below the horizon
Crumbling desert kingdom,
butchery sow the seeds of your ruin
The sand castle rise to power was ever so brief,
a pirated religion kingdom soon to end suddenly
Taking hostage your own faith,
now the proselyte guards are
fleeing from the palace carnage
Crumbling desert kingdom,
butchery sow the seeds of your ruin
Innocent blood spilled in the sand
will be your caliphate’s undoing
Crumbling desert kingdom,
blood reap the harvest of your ruin
Let your prophets of terror and rage
shout a false sanctum call to prayer
Intoning not this one truth: God will surely repay!
Categories:
scimitar, death, judgement, religious, truth,
Form:
Elegy
Imagination and subliminal thoughts are created-
Seen through my minds eye....
This pen takes the shape of a scimitar-
Following the way of the samurai....
It's a hunger a desperate need.
This pen accelerates picking up speed.
Continuous momentum never to stop.
I will scale and conquer this mountain top.
I'm a warrior with my words.
Using nouns, adjectives, and adverbs.
They can confine, keep me blind, but my mind is not in the slammer
I design, entwine, and use no guidelines with my grammar.
I combine my stanza's and make 'em sing.
Through my ruthless bloodline, I'm the most diabolical King!
"Writer's Block" is a trained and difficult adversary.
But regardless, I'm destined to be legendary.
I paint visuals that compliment my morbid personality.
My reality is your fantasy.
Stories tend to dance into creativity.
Through my dark imagination I'm not given much choice.
Poetry is my voice....
Categories:
scimitar, inspirational
Form:
Free verse
Culling
Back in the ancient long ago,
We had the great Crusades,
Men with red crosses on their chest,
Used swords against scimitar blades,
Todays evil ones would murder all,
Is death a disease,
Does hatred of mankind, bitter gall,
Create such misery?
It is in man to cull the crop,
To trim the numbers there,
With 6 billion on the planet, stop,
Another, world slaughter, so unfair?
Murder is in the heart of some,
It festers, and the deed is done,
It’s enough to get you on the rum,
The bitter harvest there…
Don Johnson 23-aug-11
Categories:
scimitar, adventure,
Form:
Ballade
Here,
where the black white shadows
pond and melt
her dress
flutters around the
pronounced scimitar
of her neck line.
Eyes whisper
fr-ig-id
with a syllabically thick accent
as if cold were a ham-fisted lug
emerging from the
yawning dark mouth
of the cabin behind her
pressing his hands
with the grip
of a dying man
bracing his last breath
with each
light blue,
half moon
fingernail.
Categories:
scimitar, food, people, sad, social,
Form:
Free verse
Oh I am a little metaphor
I love to play a word,
today I am a fortress on
Tuesday I’m a bird
On Wednesday I’m a simile
cos I’m like a train, storming
into history,to play this wordy game
On Thursday’s I push the boat out,
ploughing through the waves, then
Fridays I’m like a scimitar, slicing
through the raves
And if you catch me weekend, I
won’t hold a grudge, just take me
as you find me, wink, wink,
nudge, nudge, nudge.
Categories:
scimitar, fun, poetry, satire,
Form:
Verse
Glancing down from breathless heights,
Amidst climey sighs,
The looming colossus awakens from slumber
And stretches across Thelwalls linear skies.
The hot engines hissing steam -
Recalled from fond memories long back -
Tumbling like huffing little rain clouds
Down from the lofty metal track;
Wherein brightly painted carriages:
The publicans daughter, the verger,
The magistrate, the chief executive -
Seated first class, all habitually sat.
Swift grandiose arches, a celebration
Trumpeting the artful masons cunning devise,
Boast loudly of the great towers
Parallelogram of terrific forces:
Crossing over in giant leaping strides.
Here below, like Hercules reclining,
The stoic gates of Latchfords black fortress locks
Lift to brace against the immense swell
Far and beyond the chimming remarks
Of Greenhalls absolute, mechanically proven,
Georgian bell;
When, ensconced within a purpose-built,
Purple brick tower:
Strikes the centuries old brewery clock
On the twelfth
Of every God given hour.
A rich bankers cantilever
Pushes doggedly against opposing, sheer,
Red Sandstone walls;
Again the mauve and azure rock pigeon claps...
And then...coo, coo, cooingly calls.
Dry buzzing heat blurs over
The hum of a high noons imcumbent midday;
The coup-de-gras scimitar wing stoops -
To fasten onto its slower-witted prey!
Steeped sides slipping amidst tumbling yellow
Gorse and sporadic flowers
Balk at the foreboding waters edge,
Where, over the denizens swirling bowers,
The resolute little rusting lugger,
Puffing and chugging,
relentlessly dredges and scours;
Churning the murky Eastham silts
That drab Manchester draw:
Into the vast hollowing quays
On beachless, concrete Salfords industrialized,
High-rise dockland shore.
Through the deepest part of the black
Channel
A salt grimed hulk smoothly slips...
Attached by a twisted hemp to the tugboat
That hauls the great ships.
Stirred by the bow waves
Flowing and ebbing like currents in time:
From the trough to the peak
The jettison and flotsam climbs -
Before succumbing to powerful undercurrents
Of irresistible designs!
Categories:
scimitar, history, travel,
Form:
Rhyme
Im a dot,
A small black powerful dot,
I can spoil a celebrity autograph
I make void a bank cheque signature
I can spoil a sentence, a tiny story:
“A man walked along the. road”
With my friends, we make something mysterious:
“then the door closed………………….”
I highjack a comma
;
I meet up with another dot
:
I question myself with a scimitar shape
?
We dots, team up with our friends, the dashes to make the well known Morse code
. - .. - - .
Categories:
scimitar, funny,
Form:
Personification
First person shooter,
on a hate tour of duty,
swinging a bullet sling blade
Buying a death row ticket,
worth fifteen minutes of fame
First person murder shooter;
womb-to-the-cradle-to-the-grave robber,
using your Automatic Revolver
to solve your anti-social mental problems
Sharpen that sling blade
on a coroner grindstone wheel
Gather the scythe-shredded corpses
from the harvest killing field
Take the bullet-riddled body bags,
with warm blood dripping still ...
and kevlar
coffin
bury them on Tommy Gun hill
Guns and Roses —
Automatic Revolver 15 bullet salute
Let the gun pallbearers put ‘em in the ground,
and the saltpeter pew mourners
put the rose flowers on the graves
AR-15 bullet salute ...
Guns and Roses —
giving society another senseless violence eulogy
Guns and Roses —
weapons of war killing innocent children of peace
Guns and Roses —
ricochet death purchased with capitalist ease
No background check to vet tranquilize
the uncaged rage,
wearing a Second Amendment disguise
Empty thoughts and prayers,
full of politician hypocrisy
Thirty pieces of silver tongue lip-cluckers
offering a gun lobby: no gun control policy
A paid, no-money-back Judas apology
Snake oil teary talk rubbed on dry soul skin,
allergen empathy-free
Guns and Roses —
sacred shell religious philosophy
Guns and roses —
kinetic death violence theology
Gun manufacture worshipers
love deifying the work of their hands
They love to praise their golden trigger head
silver handle arms
brass chamber belly
lead barrel legs
paper green toes idol
Saying: Let your scimitar banana-shaped heart
always remain sharp
And may your lead scythe sling blade soul
never be dulled
Guns and roses —
waxy ears don’t hearst hear it ...
bulletproof hearts so iceberg smoking cold
Guns and roses —
plastic carnation petal spirits ...
metal detector salvation black market sold
Categories:
scimitar, dark, death, violence, wisdom,
Form:
Elegy
~Glows Like Golden Grain ~
( Bragi )
Beautiful first spring day
Bountiful sun but then may rain
Enticing spring is here again at last
Each ray of sun illuminates so fast
Bright sunshine glows like golden grain
Glad spring shines bright this day.
Butterfly dance here and there fast
Most beautiful springs here again
The airs so mild today
The sky is blue and clouds hide and play
So lovely the sun rays sustain
And to all its beams of warm light it cast.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2017
June.01.2017
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”
- Mark Twain
~Author's Notes:
The 'Bragi' is said to be suited for scenic beauty and “the elfin”. Created by Thelma Allinder, it became popular through a 1950’s publication,Scimitar and Song.
The Bragi is stanzaic, written in 2 sixains. (12 lines)
syllabic,6/8/10/10/8/6/10/8/6/6/8/10 syllables per line.
Rhymed, rhyme scheme abccba cbaabc. (abccbacbaabc)
Categories:
scimitar, beautiful, butterfly, love, spring,
Form:
Free verse
Bestial History Recycling
by Odin Roark
School years found him library prone,
Glimpsing pages of barbaric times,
Centuries ago where death and executioners
Lived out their realities,
History’s training ground for ancestral inheritance.
So easy to thumb through pages,
Gaze into the pale faces described
Like their judges must have seen
If they looked.
But who sees eye to eye in such moments?
His focus rose from such pages,
Allowing forgiveness for such atrocities,
Accepting the norm of those days
To calm his senses.
Now older,
Removed from the voluminous archives of bound studies,
He sat in his favorite chair,
Held tight the newspaper,
Allowed today’s pictured headlines to sink in,
A demonic breeding he once thought was past.
As if by sacred duty
The turbaned head held steady,
His left hand with scimitar,
His right about to yank the victim’s hair,
A grip of cruelty above innocence,
Atrocity bearing down on civilized…
He glanced up at the fire needing another log,
And allowed the emptying of his sorrow,
Imagining the blood drenched sands of what he once thought
Was reserved as teachings from long ago days,
Now but festering doubt of whether civilization had advanced.
How could he think otherwise.
Then was repeatedly now,
Alive,
Hungry,
Knowing nothing of satiability,
Only the gluttonous hatred
Their twisted theosophy thrived on.
With eyes closed,
He could hear Nature’s whirling sands,
Wanting to cover this,
Bury that,
Save the mothers from it all,
From bearing yet more
Of savagery’s black over orange,
Humanity’s unanswered shame
Of glittering blades made dull,
With death’s crusted blood,
Inciting appetites to sharpen once more,
To hover over slumped heads,
Tied hands,
Bended knees,
Final breaths.
With recycled history out of control,
When would its savagery rape his shores?
Categories:
scimitar, war,
Form:
Free verse
The Morris Minor Man.
He was the Morris Minor Man
from down in Burton Joyce
I went with him to buy one
a green one was his choice
he could have had a Vauxhall
he could have had a Ford
but not the Morris Minor Man
from down in Burton Joyce.
He started with a Land Rover
and had a Scimitar too
he even had a Skoda
and went to number two!
I used to pull his leg for that
and he didn’t seem to mind
but when the Morris Minor came
that really was a find.
He was the Morris Minor Man
from down in Burton Joyce
he went and bought another one
to accompany the first
he could have brought home anything
but nothing else would do
that’s why the Morris Minor Man
went after number two.
He worked on them so carefully
as he chased round after parts
and when he was successful
it cheered his family’s hearts
for when they got to know those cars
they loved them, I could tell
could it be they had become
Minor fans as well!
Categories:
scimitar, loss
Form:
Rhyme
first the wash from light white blue down to brown
That ugly brown from mixing all those colors
and only at the very base of it to lower the horizon
and expand the vastness of the vista
Then the slashing scimitar of curve
with endings in infinity
Twisting the edges through clouds
to show the torn tearing droplets
Then smooth in the white to capture light
reflected in the shadowed spectral essences
revealed possibly in a second glance
morphing into coils of twisted mist
He blinks and rubs a wrist across his eyes
Brush held in suspense above the waiting canvas
Searching through his caves of creativity
with a burning need to light the walls aflame
Why not a curving canvas
with folds and waves of verticality
There is no rule to keep this two dimensional
a moving light source could turn this yet again
Categories:
scimitar, artlight, light,
Form:
Bio
7/13/17
Cowabunga
I'm coming in with a hunga munga
Near and far from any rotunda
Going in and out the umbra
While close and beyond yucca
Across desert, grassland, forest and tundra
Yargh!
Now I'm wielding a katar
And scimitar
On par
Ready to spar
Time I raise the bar
Hallelujah
Next I'll use the zhua
Above and below plants and fruit trees such as satsuma
Regarding any terrain with or without puma and vicuna
As well as waters that do or don't have tuna, beluga and barracuda
If that doesn't work, then surely will the bazooka
Categories:
scimitar, dark, fun, perspective, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
Protean nucleic processes
polemic yield
explosive diversification
punctuated equilibrium
Stephen J. Gould
Paleontological hypothesis
spawning sudden flora and fauna
competed against diametrically opposed diatribe
pairing diehard Religionists
versus Doubting Thomists
which Creationist advocates
threatened non-believers
with damnation and eternal punishment
spake brotherhood of God brethren thru tongue did wield.
Pompous empiricists
fire and brimstone sermons on the mount
excruciating punishment of soul would yield
claimants who refute intelligent design theorists
to explain away biological gaps
extant within evolutionary field
said Biblical creationists belief
pitted dogmatic atheistic crusaders
to fight tooth and nail
with scimitar and shield!
Categories:
scimitar, allegory, introspection, philosophy, ,
Form:
Didactic