Best Scolded Poems
The mustard seed
a wild mustard seed took flight
carried aloft in gathering light
over thistle'd sage and poppies
in countless colorful copies
as brash rain showers subside
the retreat of angry clouds abide
scolded by the Northern wind
in search of infinity's final end
once barren hills, now painted gold
snow geese forage with fledgling fold
amid the flutter of swallowtail's wings
from soil sprouted seedling life brings
'til once more mustard's children are blown
from heaven's heights the earth is sown
~~~Dedicated to my Uncle Joe~~~
Categories:
scolded, children, earth, flower, nursery
Form:
Couplet
Loss Lost Love
by~ GARY FIELDS
Why my love left?
I soon forget the reason's why
All that I remember
Is that she left such
An empty space
An empty trace
So many memories
Which can not be erased
And I die just a little inside
And time mean's nothing to me'
Fore you mean so much to me
- And -
Then ever so slightly
I wish for quiet subtle change
--------
And I don't know since when
But time just set's end on end
And smoke appears below
Which can choke a friend
A friend in need
Certainly not you love
And once again, ever so slightly
I wish for quiet suttle change
--------
It has been three weeks (03) now
And things' are all in a clammer'
Thing's just seem to set end on end
And nothing seem's to matter
An I make a vowel for thee
In a time that is lost for- ever
-------
O'h, how I wish to belong
-------
by~ Poet Destroyer
I can see the pain!
I came to you no longer.
Looking for answers,
I cried till I could no more..
I shared'
I stared'
At the empty space hiding in my heart,
I knew then that day was the end.
Thoughts ran like rivers,
flowing a stream down my face.
You picked the pieces up as I walked away.
With no more to open and say.
~~~~~
When holding wasn't holding to me no more,
You opened up your heart, in hopes I could feel.
We cried into the night,
until the early morn.
We scolded each other's pain,
searching and seeking each others heart.
As time drew, second begun to fade.
I saw our lovers nest fading,
as the night grew thick.
The moment had arrived,
why did we say goodbye?
~~~~~
Now we sit alone,
reminiscing the past that vaporized into thin air.
An empty trace'
An empty space'
~~~~~
Oh! How I wish to belong!
A collaboration with * GARY FIELDS
My collaboration contest
Categories:
scolded, loss, lost love, lost,
Form:
Ballad
The sun shines again
for he smiles.
The indeterminable day no longer flees or hides
for its end is sought, as is its beginning
for he smiles.
Confusion though abiding
must wait the laggard servant
scolded by the Mistress Aphrodite
for he smiles.
Want must find a different dwelling
for the moment un-housed by sweetest joy
for he smiles.
The sun shines again.
Categories:
scolded, adventure, allegory, faith, forgiveness,
Form:
Free verse
A lonesome coyote howled deep in the wood
And a MOST unwise owl somehow misunderstood
Oh, alas and alack!
She rashly hooted back
(And she hooted as hard as she possibly could)
"Who the heck heeds my howl, for god's merciful sake?
Could this perhaps be my potential life mate?"
..."Give a hoot who you hoot at
if you don't know just who 'dat
You hoot at!" screeched the owl a wee bit too late
The gossip that followed defied explanation!
Squirrels scolded scathing and righteous damnation
The eagle screamed from his peak
"Don't even show us your beak!"
(An owl with a tarred and feathered reputation)
The coyote's good name turned muddy and mucky
Rumor spread like the plague so he never got lucky
"Your character is fowl"
Hitting up on an owl?"
(Last I heard he migrated to Kentucky)
Categories:
scolded, funny, nature,
Form:
Limerick
A
long
lost art-
scolded by
female bravado.
Categories:
scolded, people, social,
Form:
Light Verse
Once his brown alpargata shoes trod countless miles,
imagination burst from his vivid, traveler's eyes...
He traversed valleys leading to azure mountains,
and heard a chant sung with vivacious tones.
Like the invaders of the past that built sturdy castles
on rugged hills, he intruded in those ghostly places...
expecting swift lancers with fierce glances ready to attack him,
or take him prisoner and toss him in a dungeon completely dim.
But with his slick tongue, he would kindly ask for a fair trail
and be scolded by the drunken King with the fattest tummy
to explain with a few words his intrusion in that well-guarded territory;
and looking so young and innocent, his plan for deception wouldn't fail!
" Oh, mighty Frederick II...I come in peace and as a conquered native,
I would bow in admiration to be of service to your kingdom,
which extends from Naples to Sicily, your mercy is imperative...
may your soldiers unlock these heavy chains that make me lame!"
The Norman King with the bluest eyes ordered the knights
to free him and waited for words to flow from his mouth with dry lips, " My great
King, I have grown grapes that are so juicy to eat with bread and they make
the most delicious wine to bring merriment to your festive nights!"
" Where's this region you mention with such wonder and delirium?"
With red-inflamed pupils, King Frederick II asked him. And he traveler's deep voice
vibrated with loud excitement , " Into the valley of Baianum!"
" Let me out of this castle and I will show the purple grapes of a farmer's choice!"
" Let him loose!" ordered the tall, fair king. " Give him the fastest horse,
and let him bring me proof of his finding!" The soldiers obeyed with reluctance,
but little trust they showed in him: they assumed he was another well-paid jester,
who performed his comedy well...they knew the cleverness of that young traveler!
Categories:
scolded, life, nature, nostalgia, peoplewords,
Form:
Burlesque
Standing upon the roof top,
watching her brothers walk to school,
Rekha reminisces about her playground,
full of childhood innocent smiles.
A sole kite decorated in orange and red,
floats in the morning breeze,
Rekha feels her soul tug at her heart strings -
yearning for such freedom to roam.
A martyr to dowry, a casualty of sacrifice.
What Rekha's parents thought
was an escape from poverty,
has made her a prisoner of brutality.
Scolded for too much sugar in chai,
water being too warm,
chapatti not being round.
Cursed and beaten like a stray dog,
for being unable to work fast enough,
because she can't walk nor raise her arms,
after being repeatedly raped last night -
by a man old enough to be her father.
Sickened by flashbacks of how
his saliva dripped on her like rotten fish.
Extreme nausea from his strong touch
felt like cockroaches and beetles
were crawling inside her flesh,
but no one heard her screams.
They just shut their doors, bolted their windows,
as he grabbed her neck with his dirty claws -
she wished he would have choked her!
Suffering in silence, the pain is too much,
her parents cannot rescue her.
Rekha wishes she could sleep forever,
because the bleeding won't stop and
her bruised body is slowly breaking,
like a porcelain doll with cracks,
living in an endless nightmare.
Her mind in a state of arrested development,
questions the purpose of existence.
Rekha stands on the ledge,
waits until her brothers are out of view,
waves the world goodbye,
she is fragile like a kite,
but cannot fly.
Rekha was only twelve..
Categories:
scolded, abuse, child abuse, poverty,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
The whittled worries and fears shred my nerves like ants on glass, sparkling red. I notice and bow to the glitterati in their fine silks and cuts of cloth because they pay my wages; they care little for the red-cheeked fellow in the silly hat, whose spring step is more right-right than left-right. I’ve become the cheesy blue veined odour curdling on the edge of the plate, readying the silver bone china scrape.
I don't belong at this party with my ill-fitting garb and my eyes mercilessly seduced by the bejeweled beauties beset with jouncy bouquets, spilling colours fountain-like, their exuberant price tags hanging down unembarrassed, soliciting the eye to not deny the wealth. The verdant green will see two-stepping tonight, to the tunes in my head. I am the entertainment, yet feel like the booby prize no one sees. Must I sing for my supper in my red striped specially selected boating hat, or should I croon like the scolded cat serenading the moon.
That's when I saw her slinking and jingling, a charade slipping its mooring, her face dreamy, floating on a tide of lilacs and honeysuckles, and like a brazen queen-worthy vessel, she parted the waves to meet me on the floor closely followed by a scrum of sweaty-faced boys that up-anchored and waddled in her wake. I sang a croon for her ears alone, to imagine dancing with me under the crescent of the moon, in our garden filled with cents and honey and songs to set the traps with money - but all that this did achieve, was nothing but the wish to be elsewhere, somewhere a little less funny.
Categories:
scolded, allusion,
Form:
Prose
Cunning like foxes,greedy as hyenas,they looked at me;
With widened eyes and wet lips,ready to grab me,like an angry lioness;
And tear me like a beast and swallow me like the shark that swallowed Jonah.
I had become a bad child; as bad as war,
And they could no longer tolerate my naughtiness.
They remained silent without saying anything like a word
But beneath their silence piled a heap of anger and rage
And they breathed with fury, wishing to only take hold of me,
And teach me a lesson,that I would live to remember.
My mother was against me,just like her dear husband
They said I was an ungrateful daughter,
Because I refused to eat from the same plate with him-
The man they had prepared to marry me off because of his money.
He was a Methuselah of the previous century;
And he had been classmates with my father.
My people wanted to sell me off,they were exchanging me;
Their blood; for coins of shillings that last not longer than lust.
They were determined to see me off like an unwanted visitor.
But, I stood my ground like any other person who desires to live.
I crossed lines to tell them they were doing wrong for the first time,
And they said I was disappointing and selfish.
They scolded me,yelling at me and calling me an evil child.
They were living their life,I wanted to live mine,
To be a better woman who could move many and change many.
I wanted to go to school for I was just fifteen and had seen little of the world;
If it was waters of the ocean,I had only tasted the surfaces;
If it was heaven,I had just started to climb Jacob's ladder.
I know not better than crying and licking my tears,
And that is exactly what I did, weeping like death was here to take me.
I called upon the ancestors of my clan to rescue me,
I looked up to the skies,tracing to find my redeemer.
I cried to my sister and brothers, I begged my people for help,
And I was willing to involve the authorities, for my education was my life.
The vows came with agony, the ring would come with suffering;
And I was not ready for any of this, I would fight till the end;
For this was my right as a modern girl child!
Categories:
scolded, abuse, anger,
Form:
Free verse
My sister persuaded me for a dare
to take the cushion off grandma’s chair
and although we knew it wasn’t right
we would use it to for a pillow fight
‘We’d better play outdoors’ I said
as Susie whacked me on the head
So we ran to play in grandpa’s field
until the old cushion began to yield
downy feathers, so soft and white
which made us whoop with pure delight
But grandpa saw what we had done
he scolded us and stopped our fun
Image 3 chosen
Rhyming Me A Poem 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
10/29/21
Categories:
scolded, children, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
Oliver often scolded Hardy, on a point of which he was
Never tardy.!
They had to have 'their daily fix' if not hourly? They were like two cats on
Hot bricks!
Their made up mayhem, garnered them gold, it was their milk and honey
A hit; 'they sold.'
Rich and famous, through their tears and quarrels, old Hardys kicks Stanley, made into Laurels!
The crowds, they grew' they travelled far! They lodged at the 'Chine hotel'
They fooled round its bar!
Yet did they take that 'new years swim?' As daybreak comes' as the waves
Roll in !
That hearty English breakfast, taken soon after.' Would sure have got Them ready; to raise some rafters.!!
Categories:
scolded, appreciation, celebration,
Form:
Rhyme
As I rise from this comfortable feather bed,
I peer out a window and shake my head.
Relinquishing the grip of last night’s sleep,
rubbing my eyes to the kitchen I creep.
I see the old kettle that she used to make tea,
we would go drink it under the old willow tree.
We use to laugh and play and swim in the lake
and, I remember the summer she taught me to bake.
Always loving comforting and warm to my soul,
I remember she loved to fish in her pond by the knoll.
I close my eyes and I start to tear.
I can feel her presence and her voice I still hear.
My mother always told me to stop being a tomboy and act like a lady.
She would whisper to me, “I know best and you’re perfect Katy.”
Not long ago I noticed she slowed way down.
I was sad and she noticed me and, my frown.
Be of good cheer she scolded me,
I’m going home and, with god, I will be.
She passed from this world with a smiling face.
I whispered to her, “I’ll see you again Grandmother in that better place.”
Categories:
scolded, grandmother, remember,
Form:
Rhyme
Usually, I fall behind
Where I’m supposed to be.
One step back (or more), I am
In perpetuity.
Papers pose in giant piles,
Awaiting my perusal.
All entreaties for removal
Meet with my refusal.
Clothes stack up in massive heaps
In hushed anticipation –
Will the washer or the drawers
Be their next destination?
Catalogues lay scattershot,
Their pages marked and folded.
If I were a child, I would expect
That I’d be scolded.
Luckily, my favorite shows
I summon on-demand.
Watching them the first time ‘round
I never could have planned.
Still, I get to everything;
I’ve got it all controlled,
Although I’m often reading news
That’s two or three weeks old!
Categories:
scolded, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Come on! Rise up from your crimson bed,
You little beautiful, florescent and innocent flower,
And hold that sword, which slays deep skies,
And chaff those dark clouds and blow triumph.
Yes, of course, there lies lots of hurdles,
You have to bear many unbearable burdens,
But only that’s how it will enter when you bend,
Towards that light which turns you diamond.
Sometime you will surround by the valleys of darkness,
You have to travel from the words, which carries harshness,
You will be hitted, blooded, scolded and molded,
Take all them in you, they will turn you golden.
When you left broken in the midst of buffons,
Like a fallen flower, which newly sprunged in june,
Then hold the spiritual hand of your lord,
And win every battle and win every heart.
Categories:
scolded, adventure, birth, courage, creation,
Form:
Rhyme
lazy lips in tangle with A I
breathing secrets
I wonder why
why not
organize your thoughts, o scatterbrain
don’t be
a brain full of hay
eventual outcome -
the crows will pick your brain
s$it for brains
forgive my insane outburst
but the storm’s a-coming
a storm of flying monkeys
a witch to boot
the only way to beat the rap
is to hammer home
don’t
you ain’t fool’n no one
you’re a fool yourself
the witch has turned over
the hourglass
none of Dorothy’s friends
are clamouring to save you
they are not in pieces
but at rest
they’re courage
came when doing the right thing
jumping through glass, falling asleep
the witch had fear and poison on her side
but Dorothy was good and kind
she scolded the wrong, bucketed the witch
exposed the lie behind the curtain
then the runaway went back home
home sweet home
where the poet’s heart
brains and courage
reside
Categories:
scolded, poetry,
Form:
Free verse