Best Seventh Poems
Part One of Two
Mary Elizabeth Frye Dedication Poems, Seventh Poet Honored
Part One
(1.)
Graveyard Visit, Seeing Death's Saddest Truth
Walking rows of silent tombstones that litter in my head
I see far more than just faces of buried ancient dead
I see epic battles some lost and long journeys some made
I see long lines trekking through hell's gate as if on parade!
Lo! Great and dooming are the vain vanities of mankind
Blindness, racing ahead not seen they are falling behind
Appetites for darkness and immense greed, they think are needs
They indulge lusts, oft by making innocent humans bleed!
Alas! Dark lust, evil culprit, deeply woven within
Tempting powers grown massively by rewards of past sins
As these ghosts cry out their sorrowful and tragic tales
I hear in not too distant background, hell's loud ringing bells!
As I bid one and all a merry and thoughtful goodbye
Into one great crowd they gathered, all with tearful sad eyes!
Robert J. Lindley, 1-11-2019
Sonnet, ( Man, As The Sad And Fallen Creature)
Dedicated to Mary Elizabeth Frye, poet dedication series.
Mary Elizabeth Frye dedication poem
(2.)
Those Deep Moaning About Life's Many Curses, Its Hardest Hits
Those that beg for Herculean body and Socratic mind
I pray reading these verses you think them not too, too unkind
Nothing bad about imagination and cherished desires
Such is mighty fuel that kindles ambition's hottest fires!
Those caring about not being fleet of foot and stout of heart
Or beautiful in appearance and raving as genius smart
Fear not, for such gifts of flesh are but foolish fantasy gold
Too oft disappearing when your human container grows old!
Those deep moaning about life's many curses, its hardest hits
Wading in its nasty cesspools, and in its blackest of pits
Be of good cheer, if your blind soul can accept these wizened words
Open your eyes, sing about love, stop tramping along in herds.
So you got cherished Herculean body, Socratic mind
Have fun stumbling through miserable life while still stone-cold blind!
Robert J. Lindley, 2-19-2019
Sonnet in Fifteen, ( Truth About Man As A Fallen creature)
dedicated to Mary Elizabeth Fyre, poets dedication series.
Syllables Per Line: 0 15 15 15 15 0 15 15 15 15 0 15 15 15 15 0 15 15
Total # Syllables: 210
Total # # Words: 142
Soothing ordinal number, satisfying one’s needs,
End of one’s endeavor, a completion of a week;
Valuable quantity on spiritual event like Jesus’ words on the cross,
Even church sacraments and God’s rest after His creation and great work.
Number wrapping the amazing wonders of the world,
The lucky symbol of many international businesses,
Horizontally written going down to fulfillment and success.
Sept.29, 2013 , 5.30 am
Fifth Place
Contest: Skipping Six, Going Straight to Seven Acrostic Challenge #3
Judged: 10/4/2013
Sponsor: Poetess Andrea Dietrich
What made you so special my freckle faced friend..
the day I heard you singing to a record, from your window next door.
Bell bottom clad teenaged knock out, with a ballerina's step..
In huge Cape Cod two story where dreams took form.
My mom hummed a tune as she ironed my best shirt..
Fumbled with your corsage, wondering why I chose red.
Last dance I remembered was always our first,
humbled by a mirage., in a golden gown dress.
Realized too late the secret your parents kept,
all the plans they'd made for you..
plain enough to see I wasn't part of them.
Not enough coins lined my pockets to set you free,
at least not enough for them to ransom you to me.
Some days found me prayin',
some I cursed right out loud.
Wonderin' does the one you share today in,
know the goldmine he had found.
Did he bring you eyes full of stars,
and promise all his tomorrows.
Realize what heaven sent gift you are,
never lament a heart left to sorrow.
Does he read them bedtime stories,
and tuck them into bed..
Listen to child borne wonders and worries,
every wild dream that fills their head.
And did you share those freckled hands,
every time you stopped to tie their shoes..
protect them with those same plotted plans,
your parents chose for you.
Do you ever hear that record playing..
among the distant stars that shined so bright?
New days come, battles lost and battles won..
lost in heartfelt wish that I'd been born..
that lucky seventh of seventh son.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rising of the red dragon,
roaring loud clap of thunder,
wings spread from a trap dungeon,
on top a summit underground well.
An old English Falcon knight,
the bells summon, as the priest
runs out shouting in sheer fright,
a demon has invaded the church.
The Falcon knight rows his boat
out an overlooked distant
island in search for seventh
son, of the seventh son's assistance.
A seer and restorer
of life, son of a white witch.
Gold coins for the Lettermore,
the seventh son, his new apprentice.
A stone talisman around
his neck he wears for safety.
Stone stolen from the unbound
red dragon's veiled abbey gold coffers.
Ominous blood crescent moon,
amidst overhanging clouds,
shamed by the red dragon's wrath,
and the overturning darken runes.
The Lettermore and last of
noble Falcon knights that's left,
arm themselves, and journey off
upon their hunt and difficult quest.
Early morning and mountains
of green, leaves flutter and dance,
with clear limpid flowing streams.
Horses trot in rhythm, caught in a trance,
in search of the dragon queen.
She finds her doom in the hands
of noble knight shrew, unseen
knife, in her transformed feminine skin.
2/28/2022
Lind30nr Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
7779 unrhyme, using How Many Syllables Counter
inspired by the movie "Seventh Son"
This is your new world
A new age of cooperation for change
Of the hovel's life.
A growth managed not by seven nations
But twenty chosen friends
Marginalizing thos who have no arms
To declare a nightmare
On the dreams
Of children sweating
In straw beds at center of the world.
A world where the invisible seventh son sleeps.
So our president
Of the free world speaks from a podium
Where G-7 is now G-20
And cannot understand why
Mexico and Afghanistan
Is at war with this new century
Pitting country
Against individual currency
In the market of survival.
Too narrow this table
Of the fortunate few in democracy.
O give me a voice
I am the seven son whose time
For slow unveils is past
Whose power shakes the kingdoms like a patch of grass
While they deny the things I know
The gift I wasd born with in me to show
My other consciousness
Beyond material glow.
And your might be new
But I was here before
And long ago.
God was so pleased with his six days of creation
The seventh day He declared a day of rest
Bound to have some heavenly
Well-deserved relaxation
As soon as He woke up
He brewed a cup of java and
Set up his most comfy Adirondack chair
On his fluffiest favorite cloud
And so on this seventh day
A most magnificent morning unfolded
Watching from every conceivable angle
One glorious sunrise after another
By noon for Sunday brunch
God challenged his angels to make
The tallest fruit salad unimaginable
For a rendez-vous on the Hawaiian islands
The first summer games
Were held that very afternoon
Playful racing with dolphins
And swimming in the seven seas
Then dusk began to fall
All were cordially invited to board
The fabulous celestial party bus
For a ‘round the world premiere trip
Westbound capturing one endless sunset
For hours and hours of a colorful joyride
Ending with a final detour to the north
For a late night aurora borealis show
AP: 3rd place 2020
O souls of the Island,
I have silently
heard through
tropical torrents
and surpassed
a million miles
of the milky seas,
away from
mint-marine
silhouettes of my
utopian wonderland,
as strawberry
ripples and
coconut-scented
musings called
upon my
flamboyant spirit,
to explore those
ebony-emeralds
of universe and
envelop my hope in
creamy pink shells.
I have soaked in
sepia impressions,
ebbing as
crepe currents
on splitting shores
and windsurfed
through the
hibiscus rays
of life by forbidding
heartache hymns
of yesteryears,
from lurking in
jewelled hours
of today
and built a
kryptonite kayak
to sail in the
turquoise times
of tomorrow.
For, now I know
that the
opalescent ocean
has chosen me,
to return the
riveting spirit
of sage-rufescent
rivulets back to
the 'Heart of
Humanity's Cosmos',
shaped in
soft serenades
of seraphim.
When the
whispers of a
mauve french-rose,
blooming within,
will uncurl their
farthest wish
in silken twinkles,
my eyes will always
remember these
watercolor heights
splashing crayon dusks
and revealing
silver moon truths,
for there's more
beyond the
neon networks
of syzygy pearl skies
and chestnut reefs,
yearning to be
cherished by the
blonde alchemy of love.
So, I abandon
those sooty
regrets that snorkel
with their fragile fins in
kohl-lily gulfs
and observe these
constellations
of intuitions, formed
by the star-kissed
manta rays and
sketch sagacious
saudades laced
with hope, as a
halo around the
lilac Pole Star.
In this mortal
seascape of
the seventh heaven,
every orphan
of darkness
shimmers as
the beacon
of lustrous
sugar-scintilla that
shapes this world,
in ivory-smitten
spheres of
magically
diaphanous helix,
waltzing in whispers
of wind and water.
Every lava-skinned,
feminine flame
of doleful daffodils
was once a glittered
cherry-red gardenia,
laced with
cardinal buds,
who nurtured
velvet seeds
in the womb of
celeste compassion
and edenic empathy.
And like myself,
every sea-maiden of
sequined lush ruminations,
crowned with
purple plumerias,
is a whimsical wayfinder,
wishing for ~
white bells of serenity
and blue-star petals of peace.
God took his time to make the world and we are truly blessed,
He worked so hard for six long days but then He took His rest.
A whole day off from His creation so what’s a deity to do?
He slept late then got Himself some premium coffee to brew.
Then He made himself some cinnamon buns and ate them on the deck,
He wondered how things were back on Earth but resisted the urge to check.
They’ll be fine for just one day. How much trouble could they find?
I left them alone in a paradise and now it’s My turn to unwind.
Then He remembered the serpent and the tree of wrong and right,
And He began to worry that they’d never make it to the morning light.
So He put on a robe and grabbed His keys and headed for the door,
Then He stopped himself before He left and He paced across the floor.
If He couldn’t trust them for even one day then what good would they be?
So He decided to make a mutton sandwich and go and watch TV.
But He couldn’t concentrate on the game and He was running out of chips,
And taking a little walk in the garden would be much better for His hips.
He went to check up on the kids in Eden and what do you suppose?
Sure enough He found the two of them running around in clothes.
They pointed fingers at each other and at the snake and at the tree,
And all the while He thought to Himself, they really do need Me.
That’s why God keeps Himself available no matter what the time or day,
So when we are in need of his strength we only have to pray.
Who knows? Maybe someday we’ll realize what there is at stake,
We’ll be able to take care of ourselves and then God can take a break.
But not yet.
out grocery-shopping
with her mom. she shrieks with joy...
mom picked up ice-cream
Date written: 10/14/2019
I met you in seventh grade
In laughter and games our bond was made.
Through every joy and every tear
You’ve been my rock my friend so dear.
We share our secrets dreams and fears
With you beside me I feel no tears.
In sunny days or skies of gray
Together we’ll face whatever may.
So here’s to us through thick and thin
With every loss and every win.
You’re my best friend it’s plain to see
In this journey of life you’re part of me.
River ever flowing
‘fore Gillette’s “Seventh Sister”
nature's beauty thrives
scenic view sparks thoughts
stone castle amid the trees
represents my life
A cool winter day
exhaling yesteryear's dreams
future seems unclear
Note: William Gillette's estate, called Seventh Sister, was built in 1914.
Connecticut's government took over the property in 1943 and it was
added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1986.
For Michael’s “Your Thoughts” contest,
by Carolyn Devonshire
“Heal The World” like in Heaven
A “Thriller” many believed he was too “Bad”
The King of Pops “Black or White”
Seven times he cried—“The Way You Make Me Feel”
Then he “Eased on Down the Road”
Singing: “Earth Songs” like “Beat It,” “Leave Me Alone”
Now “Ben,”—he is “Gone Too Soon!”
~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
© Joseph Spence, Sr., 6/28/09
© All Rights Reserved
~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
The form is 7/11/7/11/7/11/7. The total syllable count is 61. The first line has
seven syllables, second eleven, third seven, fourth eleven, fifth seven, sixth
eleven, and seventh seven. Rhyming is optional; however, it’s a plus. Any
variation of the words “seven” or “heaven” must appear in the poem.
Invented by Joseph Spence, Sr., 2007.
~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
I wear a mask of happiness because it is the only way,
To get me by unnoticed through each horrible day
My sister isn’t here,
My mom and dad don’t care
Too see any pain,
I’ll just stumble and take the blame.
For someone elses actions,
I hide my only fear.
I embrace the world around,
not shed a tear.
I wear a mask of happiness to get me through the day,
Untill I come to school again and see your smiling face.
But I walk along.
Forte to my cause.
A fort of strength…
Militarily built -
Therefore, must be militarily defeated.
Many say I am a buyout -
Too much intelligence to decipher.
No lack of esteem that can be embraced maybe a confrontation to face.
Personification of knowledge is an individual’s acumen ginned.
Gen by a rite of passage to quest for greater things.
Malachia is her name.
Anyone that desires the sanity of righteousness is a reformer.
A trial and purpose they have formed.
Strong suited to develop structure.
Strong points are shared prolifically.
A talent acquisitionist carries the scrolls.
A role player and leader at the podium.
Mississippi born and a Mississippian raised…
Acumen gins - informed by knowledge nowadays.
But I walk along.
Forte to the cause.
A fort of strength growing stronger!
Military built –
Thus, never militarily defeated.
Only a buyout prevails –
Cipher cannot be unconcealed or revealed.
___________________________________________________________________|
Written April 1, 2016!
It started out so peaceful
It was God's Sabbath's rest
No work to be done in it
Just to keep it Holy, blessed.
But someone picked forbidden fruit
And ate of it; a mortal sin
Much to their shame and all good things
The day was cursed and all therein.
Eternally to dwell in dark
Locked in time and out of reach
A hell from which none could escape
A abyss, no ladder's length could breach.
Light fled that frozen habitat
Where the hopeless dwell and chaos rule
Where the pitch of darkness grew so black
A pit no pendulum could move.
So time refused to hear their cry
For a new day to come and vanquish this
And many sought a way to die
Death turned it's back to their request.
Oh, who is able to please Great God
And pay the ransom it would cost
No one was found, not one availed
It seemed to all that all was lost.
Yet a sacrifice was offered up
So pleasing in it's selflessness
The cause of which was wonderful
And able, yes, to stand the test.
And God did quickened certain ones
On whom the wicked could do no work
It was a glorious trump of God
When Jesus Christ came down to earth.
Now we can walk a better path
And hope one day to gain all truth;
The paradise we lost back then
Retract the hell that sin let loose.
RETA PRUITT
August 21, 2016