Best Sledge Poems
Dare We Beat Evil With Truth And A Heavy Sledge
Fresh rain pounded out cleaning again our Mother earth
above squirrels chattering for all they are worth
what matters is in this life we simply obey
do our very best and sometimes we kneel to pray
for guidance and follow the dear heaven-sent light
develop fully our brains to see with true sight
see glittering stars above, know our God is love
face off squarely and with heart deal world's push and shove
such gives us dear Lord's blessings and truth to walk straight
walk proud as we live, remember it's not too late
share our happiness with family and our friends
with conviction know Heaven be ours in the end.
Dare we beat evil with truth and a heavy sledge.
With our faith know wisdom and truth gives us the edge.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
Oct. 27th, 1979, age 25
I wanna walk up a mountain
swim in the wide blue sea,
walk across life’s busy highway
just to taste of that which is me.
I wanna drive on tracks of steel
pilot an aeroplane,
sledge on slopes of ice crystal snow
be a fireman of a steam train.
Lord please grant me mobility
attach my legs an arm,
I am a freak of chemistry
a product of a human-farm.
There was so much morning sickness
the tablet in array,
yet society lives a lie
chained in subjective disarray.
I wanna travel to the moon
trial zero gravity,
go where there is no resistance
fill the void my life’s cavity.
I wanna have a chance to live
the human way a wife,
to love and cherish have children
normality without the strife.
I wanna sing a hopeful song
forget there’s so much worse,
tell don’t take all things for granted
nor heed that of the siren’s curse.
I wanna earn an emotion
feel the way you all do,
build a bridge to understanding
and give you all my point of view.
© Harry J Horsman 2018
The promiscuous length of daylight
in the month of June,
spawned from a sunrise that
allocated a childish franchise.
The moorland breeze; that, to
rely upon when indulgence in dewy
pastures, leaves one reminiscencing
in how once the silvery moon shone.
Gildersber wrapped in winters
relentless white blanket, a pledge of
sledge irons to polish in youthful
exuberance, before life to
cherish in tracks of sheer delight,
when profound in greyness
the sky gave one a reason
for happiness.
This simple memory of one’s
sentimentality, somewhat indistinct
yet a zest of devotion in life
across the deep ocean.
Although elsewhere in this a
time warp of evanescent
I only have to dream
to be with you again!
© Harry J Horsman 2008
Asleep before the head hits the pillow
Head filled with vivid colors swirling, amassing, mixing outside the lines
Transgressions grow skyward like a bean stalk becoming a giant
Worries wander aimlessly like a cat in the night looking for a spoon
Hurts pound again, and again, first a drumstick then a sledge hammer
The kaleidoscope of confusion rotates ever faster, bed spins counter
Places cannot be escaped
Faces stare as if clothes have been robbed
Running, Flying, Drowning, Suffocating, Garbling Words, Can’t Breath,
Slow Motion, Falling, Insatiable Hunger, Unquenchable Thirst, Blood Stained, Shouting
Loaded Down, Frantically Searching Pockets, Hidden Underneath, Forgotten
Fear. All fears. Nothing but fear. Afraid. Regret. Worry. I didn’t. I really did!
Each day we pack our pockets. Cram our purses. Load our backpacks
Hang needless objects and things around our necks, over our shoulders, in the crux of our elbows, on our belts
Grip suitcases. Carry stuffed plastic grocery bags on each knuckle. Waddling to the side of the bed before crashing head on
Unknowingly still pinching the key between our left thumb and pointer finger
Hitting the bed with a massive crash
every part of the day strewn around the room like a devastating mid air explosion of a 747 littering debris, miles and miles of destruction, charred remnants, unidentifiable and randomly placed objects, out of place, disfigured, often never found
Before your head hits the pillow
Drop the things you picked up today
Take a load off
Free yourself of your burdens
Neatly set everything aside
On second thought, just pile it and let it lay where it falls
Drop your yoke
Sit down on the foot of the bed with God
Hand Him the things you still cling within sweating red fists
Briefly Examen your day
Fall asleep on His shoulder
He will gently lay your head on the pillow, loft your feet off the floor, and tuck you in.
Let Him carry your burdens, lighten your load, unpack, empty your pockets, wash your laundry, even sort and match the socks.
Travel to sleep lightly and peacefully dreaming of a new day
carrying nothing but what is truly needed.
Bones creak with winter’s chill,
sledge trails cover the sparkling snow,
rushing like the wind in a barren landscape
towards a bleak lonely village far below
shimmering amongst the dark stately pines.
A teak grey sky domes over petrified trees.
Skiing hard, feeling an exhilarating allure,
hypnotic and unfettered despite the gelidity
as the cold breeze blows and moans into my face.
From afar a church bell tolls the end of day,
grey smoke twirls out of black chimneys.
There, in a homely cottage, you await,
a thick soup spreads its hot fragrances,
and thick slices of hot French bread
awaits my empty stomach. I hunger.
Oh yes, I hunger for tasty soup and more.
I speed up for nothing can stop me now
savouring the thought of you waiting in a snug bed
and dreaming of you and a pair of lips so cherry red.
I'm writing this poem in the last days of 2018. The government of the United States is shut down in a fight over the building of a border wall. I am reminded of another border wall that was erected during my lifetime.
In 1961, East Germany built a wall
Of concrete, barbed wire, and steel
Ninety-six miles around East Berlin
At the cost of a bit less than four million dollars
And a bit more than 200 lives.
Intended to stem the flood of East Germans
Seeking freedom to prosper in the West.
A young and inexperienced President Kennedy
Didn't comprehend why East Germany
Needed a concrete wall
When it already had
An Iron Curtain.
In 1989 the Berlin wall was torn down in a frenzy
Of sledge hammers and bulldozers.
Only remnants of it now remain - mostly in museums.
East Germans celebrated and rebuilt their lives.
The reunited Germany flourished
And joined other nations in a united European future.
Why do we think that our wall will have a different legacy?
A step too far, brings right of passage to a ledge
Fluttering at cliff walls, pushing life’s brittle edge
A sheer instinctive thrust, with no trust to pledge
Now or never moment, undermines fear’s wedge
A chick leaps off, flailing frail wings fail to fledge
Featherweight of hope meets a ten-pound sledge
Crashing straight down, no safety net to dredge
Next guy flaps like mad, landing softly in a hedge
The lavender clouds, lowered, like a fluffy blanket
on top the eaglets’ ledge.
Its loblolly pine lingers on the palate of the tongue
like a luscious lollipop.
The nestling-siblings, downy light, slightly on edge -
eagle-eyed leader seeks kill.
A bald rivalry rides the snowy sledge, unshielded
by the adults; harmony sleeps.
The earthlings’ Hallelujah - wings climb,
soar, a lavish flight - celebratory sigh.
Sunlight’s vantage slights - the flourishing cradle
unsettled by uprising; loss.
The lovelorn will land its own fledglings, feeling
only for the solo Caesar,
hailing through the rainbow slide - the Salome quilt,
nevertheless God’s will
on earth, necessary suffering for a season -
a sour lollipop; sloppy life.
We glory at the eagle’s flight, flourishing wingspan,
falling towards us.
Stalwart, its talons’ prey; we pray unfailing strength
and fly towards heaven.
6/28/2020
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW(2) any theme any form Poetry Contest
*Long lines are divided into two lines
HOLIDAY SEASON
Grand goes Christmas celebration:
Creation cum recreation.
Christmas tree on decoration.
Merriment ! Just not to mention.
Bethlehem star shines, that’s the cause.
Reindeer pulls sledge for Santa Claus.
Jingle bells ring rhythmic with pause.
Santa giving gifts ! Great applause.
All work to bake cake at random.
Charm of party to miss seldom.
Gorgeous days ! No place of boredom.
Chilled breeze and snow fall ! Maximum.
Enjoy skating ! Fantastic fun.
Silvery snow shines under Sun.b
Kids throw snow balls to play and run.
After jogging, Jack Frost ate bun.
Holiday season in festive mood.
Visit to Grandma through pinewood,
On red dress goes Red Riding Hood
to taste delicious sumptuous food.
Santa stood in the warehouse
Full of nearly empty shelves
Last night they’d been ram raided
By a bunch of discontented elves
Recently infiltrated and recruited
Into an association of packing staff
Whose ideas and demands and wants
Caused Santa to cynically laugh.
He could have held out for longer
That much was very clear
But the clever blighters
Had subverted his reindeer
To make matters even worse
Pushing poor Santa to the edge
The blighters had gone and clamped
His only working sledge
Only thirty days to Christmas
He knew of no other way
Than to meet their demands
For increased shift working pay
He’d do what it took
To bring things back on track
And ensure he had enough
To fill his mammoth sack
He reached for the Gordon’s
For one last large stiff gin
Then went to arbitration
With a forced and fixed grin
The great expanse of the Mississippi
just outside a sleepy little ledge-locked
town in western Wisconsin called Maiden Rock,
is where we like to picnic in October.
Above the north/south railroad tracks at a spot
overlooking the river is our favorite picnic table.
A century old working well with an ancient iron, creeky
sledge-handle provides fresh water.
Freight trains constantly rumble past in both both
directions, frantically racing against the coming winter.
The river, 3-miles wide at this stretch, surges a steady
dominoes of whitecaps down the river.
White Pelicans, with their striking long yellow bills,
huddle in vast rafts of white, just off the current, resting
and feeding on small fish, their migration only
beginning.
Barges, heavy-laden, plow south, pushed by stout
baroque tugs. Behind us, straight-up, limestone
bare bluffs tower, Bald Eagles circling lazily
alongside.
Mom likes the local handmade cheddar-brats, grilled;
on sprouted 9-grain buns with ice-cold spring
water!
the brats are spittin' sizzlin' cheddar!
time to go!
10/25/14
The three kings fought hard
to open the door that led to
riches and immortality. Each
one of them had a key of different
make. The door's key hole was quite
big for their keys to fit right.
Cannon balls, sledge hammers, logs,
and wrecking balls couldn't break
the door. No scratch or dent could
be seen on the wooden door!
A sage from the land of riddles
once told them they had to melt
the three keys together,
to make a big key;
they all refused.
They still stubbornly believed each
of their keys was the right one to open
the wooden door...
Date: 7/4/2016
Fling the doors open
And let out the stagnant air
Open the board up windows
It’s time to breath fresh air.
Sweep out the dirty corners
And prepare for a powerful rejuvenation
Gather the dust in a bundle,
Empty it in the Pacific Ocean
Then dip four times in the Atlantic Ocean.
Take a stroll along the corridors
Look your enemies in their eyes and
Greet them with a victory smile
Salute them with your mystical love
And set ablaze their self-inflected flame
There is no doubt about this
You will go down as one of the bravest
Solomon the wisest you the greatest
And victorious one
Sound it on the mountain top
Across the rippling desserts
Walk through the market places
The inner-cities, burnt out villages
Busy streets and crowded towns
Visit the little old lady in the tattered house
Located on the deserted side of town
Shower her with hopeful words
Your presence alone will embrace
And nurture her weary soul
Make your way to the orphanage,
Wounded warriors
and the struggling ones
A simple touch with your powerful hands
Will answer the prayer of the weeping ones.
Go to the schools and colleges
With words of comfort and love
Stop over places where you are not welcome
And radiate them with persuasive sentiments.
All some people need is a can of beer,
a cup of hot chocolate or good cheers .
Disperse the spirit of hope,
Perseverance and good expectation
And when night comes
Walk in the streets and sing
Sing with timbrels and cheerful songs
You are an inspirational icon for everyone.
Your rhetoric’s are strong, use it to move along.
Use what works best for you
Negotiations or forgiveness
And climb straight to the mountain top
With a hammer, a sledge or a cable car
Ropes and boots or just the magical you
Silence the poisonous networks
Give them something to talk about
Lift up your injured wings and start to sing
Join with the throng of angels in the grand jubilee
You are strong and ready to fly again.
Tarry no longer because you have won
Raise your banner
And wave it high in the sky
You have just defeated your enemies
With compelling love
And your gigantic wings.
©2013 Christine Phillips
LEAVING BOYHOOD BEHIND
White shirt 'n' school tie to blue-collar, dress-code is changing with age
From schooldays to pay-days, from homework to hard work
School bells and game playing to work's whistle and wage earning
With new mates, dirty jokes and smoking, oh where has my boyhood gone?
Seven-thirty start time to five-thirty finish, playtime is shortening with age
From footy-boots to work-boots, from school cap to flat-cap
Five hour days and school clock to nine hour days and time-clock
With clocking on, punch cards and overtime, oh where has my boyhood gone?
Sitting with the lads and a big mug of tea, some things taste different with age
From cream soda to warm beer, from tu'penny mix to filter-tips
Learning piecework rates and new skills, paying union subs and betting slips
***-packet backs, sledge-hammers and betting, oh where has my boyhood gone?
Working with Paddy in the oven's fiery heat, this is much too hot at any age
From cold iron bar to white hot, from straight angle-bar to boiler-flange
From the furnace to the big rolls and bend it, working fast before
Lift it out, knock it flat and weld it, oh where has my boyhood gone
In the Boiler-shop to learn fabrication, things mustn't drop apart with age
From marking out to Oxy-gas cutting from riveting to electric arc welding
Not much in the way of protection with no heath 'n' safety laws here
With air-hammers, no ear-plugs or goggles, oh where has my hearing gone?
Moving big metal sheets down the plate-shop, I must be getting stronger with age
From plate stack to marking out table from load stable to not very safe
Two tons of metal on the pulley, the chain slips and it's down with a bang
Metal crashing, men jumping and cursing, oh where has my life nearly gone
Day-release Thursday at college, lessons still needed with age
From going to Derby and back again, from going by bus to car driving
The Lacarno dance-hall at lunch-time, try chatting up girls for some fun
A quick jive, some posing and a coffee, oh where has my boyhood gone
Dating girls at the week-end and hoping, urges get stronger with age
From meeting up early to dancing, from front seat to back seat for fun
Babysitting her niece on a Tuesdays this gives us some time on our own
Snogging, heavy petting and much further... boyhood gone
Form:
Running Late
Yes!
Christmas
is
almost
here and poor
Santa’s
Elves
busy
reading the
children’s wish list,
making sure
they have
all
the toys
for all the
children
in
Santa’s
sledge
11/30/2015
Children Story