Best Settlement Poems
The stones slipped through the great fingertips of God
Each ligure staked its existence on the four corners of the universe
The quadrivial region began to spin and pull into a sphere
And pathways revealed their footholds
The fourth ligure bravely landed in the midst of history
So that one day the future settlement of the second
Would be moved by the last—by the past
Suffering much it stayed
Manifesting in incandescent words
Thrusting evanescence upon the weak
Selfless, it's sorrow would move the merriest
Would move the unmovable
The third lies in the profound valley of mystical guardians
Star-recruited, they are the very light above the canvas of gray
They embrace the stone—are inspired by the stone
The very reflection of their creator was evident
Upon their unremitting glimmers
Unafraid to stare the others down
Motivated and construed by the glower of death
Eyes move fixedly beyond the simple vast
The second ligure rested upon the shoulders of invisible martyrs
The hopeful power it planted on the sufferers was unbelievable
For spectators used their disbelief to cover their ever-placed envy
They never were part of the battle—they merely watched
Always seeing truth
But they never quite absorbed
Like a rock hitting the water
The inevitable fate was to fly and sink
The first of the ligures settled in the very reservoir of Satan himself
Even the very heart of the devil is marked
Though rebellion embarked
The cold stone landed upon his naked bosom
He despaired not to the pericopal truth the gods had bestowed upon him
He merely despised it
But wished not to lose it
For such a stone to fall upon that dark corner—he felt pride for the gracious wound
In truth, there are twelve ligures of stone
And four were dispersed, dropped into the universe
The last eight the great Eternal wears upon his breastplate
And only He can re-move these ligures
-July 20, 2013-
-For Shadow Himilton's Any Subject Contest-
-Thanks for the inspiration-
In the historic district of an Old English Settlement, I came to a house with a porch lined with hundreds of ferns covering it. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, I'm a historian and knew immediately what I had stumbled upon. As I walked carefully up the old wooden steps and under the roof hanging above me, I came to the door with a carved stone rosette that encased the 8 ft. double doors before me.
I did not know if I would be able to open it, so I gently tugged on it, it came open and to my surprise was an old grand staircase that a royal English family that must have once lived here. As I stood in the lobby of this grand staircase there was a window over looking a garden filled with rose bushes everywhere, what a sight!
The house must be from the 1400's, this decaying structure still had a lot of life to it, under the dust and dirt, I wonder who must have lived here and so with curiosity I moved up the elegant staircase, and up at the top to my left I noticed a door along the hallway and it was almost as if you could hear the whispers of the past and the life that once had lived there, in their beautiful gowns and men in their suits and top hats, where a once beautiful home was full of life and color.
Behind the door when I opened it there sat a desk with a bunch of old papers and a letter in the drawer. I started to read them and it was the lady of the house with her name on it Lady Stratford.
I brushed off the front of it covered in dust, it there had been the a deed to the house. I cheered at the thought finding it. That meant I could claim it and bring the Old English Home back to its original beauty.
There I sat in the garden after two years of renovations completed, sitting there on the garden bench watching my young daughter and son playing joyfully running around with my husband sitting there by my side, he gently kissed me on the cheek and said great job.
This is what it sounds like when the tears hit the paper, bloodshot eyes so they red in nature, still not sure wether they're sad or mad, not even sure if I miss what we had, but I been smoking all this smoke tryna smoke you out my mind, smoke till I choke & you still on my mind, found guilty in the court of love no fine, firing squad I think Cupid shot me this time, I wish I woulda stayed on the straight & narrow, instead I'm heartbroken from a got damn arrow, a inch given is a mile taken, & I'm sure I'm telling the truth but I could be faking, either way I think about you every day so I guess you won, but you have to look at me every day because you have my son
Settlement
If I take off my shoes
And I sell my toes
Does that make my toes, Fritos
If I close my eyes at night
am I legally blind, lost my sight
All I know is yes and no
and that air is light and darkness
the electrician fixed the wall switch
I put my mitten on my feet
I place my feet above my head
Now this is the time even corpse wish they were dead
Settlement
10/09/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
The gentle grit,
Precarious grind,
Rattling my teeth,
Easing my mind.
It's barely relief,
But it'll have to do,
Only luck or fate,
To see us through.
Must be cold down there,
... Frozen over,
Way too wet up here,
For that type of clover.
My option's long gone,
A vivid memory,
Patiently I now wait,
For it to return to me.
The irony is not lost,
Nor is my pride,
With a fistful of gold,
From his bludgeoned hide.
(C) 2016 PJ Bayliss
The trees were bare
Barren of their leaves
Droplets like tears
Hung from their arms
Blackened, their bark.
At their feet, snow
Soft, fresh white shimmer
A winter picture
There a wrapped figure
Walks slowly in the snow.
My door, he came to knock
Had spotted him go
Through the window
As in a dream
My heart felt no fear.
Though he looked weary
Had grown a beard
His eyes shone bright
Their crowfeet lines
Laughter filled, loving life.
Brought him by the fire
To shake the freeze
Off his hands and feet
A meal to warm his heart
His smile, my reward.
Told me many stories
Of his many travels
A key yet to unravel
Spoke to him of my dream
And we became a team.
Outside, no longer shunned
The sun melted all the snow
Revealing the green meadows
Snow bells began to bloom
Ringing in the Spring season.
By CarolineCécile
Copyright © 07.17.10
Bro, you ate my candy, serious business.
Chocolate will give you zits, may they never heal;
May your teeth all rot out; may you gain fifteen pounds;
May you lose your hair and have mental breakdowns.
May the good Lord punish all those who steal.
But, I want you to know, you have my forgiveness.
Now, let’s get down to the real deal
Bro, you will do all of my chores
without complaint and with vigor.
Listen well, the price gets bigger.
Say, “I’m sorry!” down on all fours
then you’ll have my word, I won’t squeal.
Halloween candy? I had a slew.
So whenever, as long as I want,
from now until Christmas Day -
your games are mine, all digi-play.
After Christmas, a settlement,
But I will keep my eyes on you.
October 16, 2019
contest: If I Were Your Brother
host: Bobby May
Can we find a means of settlement,
do one, create one,
bring one about -
about our heads,
about our bodies,
within our minds,
within our hearts?
Is such a settlement possible?
Do we call it peace
before we are in pieces?
Do we call it love
before a level of revulsion?
We may settle, but first rattle;
we may relax, but first roll;
we may find peace, but first pose;
we may die, oh so gently, and be ghostly.
(Sep 2022)
breakfast settlement
menu opinionated
cup and saucer cleared
9/8/2018
Your keen panther gaze
My hunger tense of lion
settled plot of beasts...
Dilbar jani ao cricket khailain
Mein karun balling tum batting
Har ball pay chaka maarna
Har ball pay out hona
Har ball pay tum haarna
Dilbar jani ao cricket khailain
Mein karun balling tum batting
Yara mara kar lo setting.
Note.Setting is the key to bond.
Lesson.Humility is must.
The old dog got a bit long in the once powerful teeth
Crushed his fangs on carrion left by the rest of the pack
Pack of cards delivered by being
Pack of lies suspended in truth
It was time to gather wounds scars and loosening grip
Maybe a new trick here or there on his visit to the tomb
Tomb of words written in anger
Tomb of scripture seeking resolve
He came to settle under Buddha’s levitating canopy
Put a fig in his mouth and tasted life’s intricate journey
Journey of illusion dispersed onto time
Journey of rest conveyed by places of comfort
Just out of sight but in contemplation and mounting doubts
As he minded himself he gazed upon a rusty barrow’s wheel
Wheel of Karma forgotten at peril
Wheel of fortune bestowed by grace
How he wished to be complete and deigned by composure
Fallible imperfect merely normal and at peace nevertheless
Less longing pacified in weary soul
Less adjudication clouding tranquility
When he took of his loin cloth and stood naked and stark
Reflected aberrations and fear a vulture caressed his skin
Skin full of hardship impermanent and mortal
Skin tattooed with ink and smouldering ashes
Prey and predator became one as shadows grew longer
He kissed the scavenger and blessed his parched tongue
Tongue of voices competing for insight
Tongue of deceit croaking temptation
The corroded buggy turned into rickshaw and palanquin
Floated on the river and embraced a path of reprieve
Reprieve from agony depression and void
Reprieve from the suffering of all suffering
He never found that intangible metaphysical wisdom
Abandoned his search for mystical philosopher’s gold
Gold never needed for making honest amends
Gold buried with a pot of tar oozing compassion
21st January 2020
thirty years
after divorce
i get to keep my hair
Pitter, patter little feet,
running up and down the street.
Screaming, laughing, shouting loud.
Thin silver lining, in such dark cloud.
This moment's fun, will end too soon.
Replaced with angry curses
and paraffin fumes.
Green, amber - filled bottles,
all but soothe,
Lurking shadows,
set to abuse.
No whimpered prayers,
to make it end,
hope, long dead,
that at last in bed -
Safety find,
but instead,
A different kind of pain begins.
Now, at last, bitter tears release,
Tiny, wretched soul, at last to sleep.
With dimming moonlight ebbing slowly,
treading the path to lands deemed holy,
here walks a tired man, an aged pilgrim,
with his frail shadow following him.
He maunders on in search of that bed
where he can lay down his weary head,
and draw earthy sheets over tired eyes,
life's unbalanced sums thus totalise.
Return to nature with final act
what he took: no more, no less…exact.