Best Speared Poems
Belly of the BEAST
In the dark mountain shadow
A fiery breeze coming from the East
Warmness is ripping up the sky
Hearing the sound of the Dragon Beast
Wings swimming in the air.
A sacrifice in motions
Hands wave in the air
Chanting and dancing
To the rhythm of a meal being prepared
Splitting flames above all shoulders
A virgin upon the master who stares
An event showered with a sacrifice
feeding the Beast with a virgin device
A Virgin so pure being prepared for the Beast
With sharp fangs that will feast on her innocent crest.
Clawing his grip upon her flesh
Away into the sky, as she took her last breath
In a distance the Dragon Beast, arrives in his domain
Detaching the virgins limbs, ready to steady his appetite
The beast devours into her tender and juicy meat
With a taste so sweet and ripe
Sinking his jaws in every bite
The fruit of the apple, did not full the dragons hunger
the virgin meat came with a foul taste of deceit.
Filled with an abysmal of rage
The beast set out to scavenge, the betrayal
With a heat that will send them all to their grave.
The broke vow of the virgin sweet tale.
Reveal the revenge how the dragon beast speared out.
His crackling fires upon all skin
Leaving a smell of brimstone to all who got in his way,
a hell he opened, with no mercy to pray
The Dragon Beast is one of the Devil's form of evil
In the battle of the Kingdom's last day.
By: P.D.
Categories:
speared, death, imaginationsweet, sweet,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Monet
Come with me, let us rekindle love –
walk with me over bridges aglow
while rivers magically glisten below.
If you hold my hand,
perhaps, we might spy a magpie
perched from a snowy sky and as night
stirs, then shifts from a full-swing soiree
into muted memories of still life,
I might fear darkness less
than when I am alone and adrift.
If you remember, the city lights
are more beautiful when it rains softly,
but a stormy night without you
takes me by surprise every time.
Tonight, let me be your Camille,
allow me to inspire the artist in you,
if for nothing more than conversation
or passionate admiration. You and I
can chase Pegasus, watch him gallop
across mystical skies in motion,
wings spanning our unabridged story
in unison till we flow into flaxen dawn
of illumination in golden-blues.
Are you only an impression of yesterday's
tearful adieu or more?
Without you, my melancholy song will rise
like smoke puffing from rooftop chimneys.
In an enlightened city, I hear music
from the spirited streets. It haunts me
and still intensifies my desire for love.
When you are gone, I can smile and even laugh
sometimes, but I cannot hide
the pale hues of sorrow in my eyes.
My Monet visions of sunrise awakened by
the warmth of your breath in whispers of morn
will dull to grays when again, you go away.
Tomorrow, I will be left to ponder
my worth, my suffering, my vulnerabilities,
all the colors of my world
while I chase shadows in the sun,
always searching for the perfect one –
a balance of light and dark,
of missing you too much and not enough.
Chase your dreams while I chase time,
infinite turmoil from a speared sky,
and days will remember to turn to night.
Even long after I die,
skies above us will dance in starlight
for someone else’s eyes. Until then,
the perfect shadow may be my own
next to yours, no matter the source of light.
But as I learn to pace footsteps alone,
reaching from a canvas brushed in strokes
of my own light, like stars,
I am loving you from afar.
Written 7/19/20
Categories:
speared, art, city, light, love,
Form:
Free verse
Behind the parchment screen and eye to eye Punch chided.
Who are you? Who is she? He’d point it out. You’d see.
No marionette with strings was he. Their paths collided;
Judy stands and faces his animosity
The play is writ by man and maid and staged to teach,
the right and wrong of woman’s position, our place.
Standing on two legs, she meets his gaze without speech.
What shenanigan have brought on this crutched lambaste?
Let us ponder Mr. Punchinell’s stance, his missing leg
let his two-eyed profile tease, has Judy been upstaged?
Stumped by the shadow lore, the punch, the audience begs
for the stiff-necked tirade to end her pick engaged.
Speared by humour, we see two realities spar on
with no means to run, the missing third prong’s a pun.
First Published by The Ekphrastic Review
Categories:
speared, humor,
Form:
Sonnet
I did not mean to snatch your heart
Like with the claw of a vorocious bird of pray
You fell into my unset trap
Speared yourself upon my harpoon
Which had only been hanging on the wall
You threw yourself into my way
stole my arrows and brandishing them with cupids blood
Punctured your heart without a thought
Other than the whisper of my name
You claim that I'm a siren
I've led you to your death
But it was the birds i sang to
Your name did not leave my unforgiving lips
With swollen eyes from crying
Filled with swirling colors of obsession
You beg to me and plead with me
Blaming me and cursing me
Claiming that i drug you here
Forgetting it was you who snuck in through my balcony
To watch me in the fountains
And listen to my voice
To see how the animals follow me
And witness how the moon becomes my robes
And the stars become my eyes
How the setting sun remains all night
Within the silk of my hair
how roses color my cheeks
In the darkness of the cold
And the world surrounds me
And the beauty of the light i behold
Where in this story did i bewitch you
Where did i make you call my name
Did i once respond or invite you to play a game
you claim i did this to you
When you only did it to yourself
did you enjoy your gaze upon the child of Cerynian
Did you think I'd become your obediant wife
When did i claim i loved you
How quickly you think of these blasphemous lies
Your not in love you simpleminded mortal
Your infatuated and in lust and your lust is a lie
Categories:
speared, adventure, me, lust, me,
Form:
Free verse
I wander the landscapes of solitude
Unchecked and unhealed,
Beneath heavens speared with bamboo rain,
A blade on my back concealed
Beyond where the eye can envisage and see,
Deserts burning dry,
Beyond where the temples sink in the dust,
Under a storm laden sky.
There is no one to swear allegiance to,
The loneliest decree,
To walk the earth as the years dissolve
And land crumbles into sea.
I wander the heartlands of yesterday,
Of feudal souls no more,
Where the killing fields were hearth and home,
My brothers men of war.
No master to slip the chains and unleash
Honour and ferocity,
Belonging to nothing, beloved of none,
Rootless, accursed and free.
Categories:
speared, allegory, history, people, time,
Form:
Verse
It must have felt like love at first,
The clinging of the ivy vines,
Until his rich red heart had burst.
Her tendrils slaked an ancient thirst,
The tender touch for which he pined.
It must have felt like love at first.
Too guileless to suspect the worst,
She speared him with her soft green tines.
Until his rich red heart had burst.
Her coils so patiently she pursed,
He never guessed at her design.
It must have felt like love at first.
Crazed with cracks, its strength dispersed,
From end to end the wall declines
Until his rich red heart had burst.
So new to love, so poorly versed
In joy, so baffled by her signs,
It must have felt like love at first.
Until his rich red heart had burst.
Categories:
speared, allegory, heart, red, heart,
Form:
Villanelle
Dragons are fabled beasts of myth and lore;
and yet, some say they lived in the far past.
And they were noble creatures at their core;
or so said every mage I've ever asked.
They slept on every treasure they'd amassed,
and those hoards were oft-rumored to be vast.
They were adept at soaring silently
on magnificent wings, masters of flight.
And yet, Man treated them violently;
their beheading, the quest of every knight.
And thus, they were hunted and killed on sight;
until no more creatures were left to fight.
St. George once slue a dragon in England;
and He's still renowned for it to this day.
The last of dragon kind, killed by Man's hand,
was a leviathan of silver-grey
that once flew the skies of ancient Cathay;
only to be speared and left to decay.
Though long extinct, destroyed by greed and fear,
dragons were both magical and austere.
Categories:
speared, animal, fantasy, feelings, hyperbole,
Form:
Sonnet
I have a light within
that I've somehow curtained,
put something in its way.
I cast a shadow across
everything. It is no defect
of the eye but of the spirit,
a flaw I have in me,
a dimming I pass on to settle
the scene and rob color
of its intensity.
I've gotten used
to the dull glaze I bring
that now it appears
the natural state of things.
Even water speared
by the sun bleeds a muted sheen,
no bright splinters of light
ricochet off to be caught
by eyes having to hide
behind a squint, I can take
my reflections straight.
There are moments
when I can feel a tightening
and something within me
stretch and tear the stitching
on a seam. Light pours out
and affixes a patch of life
in a blinding beam, too bright
to hold or keep except
for the afterglow it leaves
on a page or lingering
for awhile on the horizons
of a dream.
Categories:
speared, dark, dream, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Songs Of Power
(Lost As Blackness Invades)
Where the agony invades life seems in blurs,
And the long nights eat the fruited trees,
And later, night dreams stalk barking curs
Where blue-red tides overcome futile pleas.
Across infinite space--thoughts dreaded
And blood-lust seeking new infesting homes,
Deeper into darkness the Soul is headed
against its will- the mind wickedly roams.
Bright roses once bloomed in this castle dark,
Violets arose to soon die in vanished splendor
Where shadow raced to eat resting meadowlark,
Bound and chained heart goes with its sender.
Sorrow alights- in its ebony spreading cloak,
as storms slash across the turbulent seas,
Speared in the chest and rotting shaft broke
cried for and nothing found to appease.
No relief! Falling stars batter forsaken mind,
fiery reds cover vanishing jungles greens
Life in its mysteries, finds room to be unkind
as purple hearts- grace such melancholy scenes!
Death of innocence, once dark strain all too real
jungles evergreen, turn to exploding red,
Where death invades, soldiers always ready to kill,
war and its eternal darkness, await the dead.
While man thus cursed, seeks illusionary gains!
Darkness cast forth from Souls feeling no pains!
11-08-2015
For contest- Songs Of Power
Song chosen-
Paint It Black - Rolling Stones:
Categories:
speared, allegory, death, humanity, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
Fates of date, three stand defiant
Put your mind out there, be independent
Planisphere, a.round torrent of current
Twisted the plate, said an apparition.
Get a.board mate there's a mission
Hostile attacks make insecure intention
Blindfolded backs do labor to mention...
It's not at all about to end.
The Begin began and we've crossed,
and crossed the Great a.gain.
Three in the sky as Venus burned
Speared the eYes as a Twin returned
Boiling the points at sea we learned
Misunderstanding is a blend of kind.
A binary system renders the mind
TWO, they said, as a spiraling wind
TWO, they said as a pair, will come.
A zeon light at the Lion's thrown.
Categories:
speared, science fiction, space, time
Form:
On an early morning walk along the shore
I pondered thoughts about the ocean floor
What treasures are buried beneath its sands
Amid corals, anemones, orange sea fans
I wanted a key to unlock the seabed's door
On the crest of a wave, what had been carried
bobbled and lobbed, back and forth parried
from shore and blown across windswept seas
Miles traveled by storms or a tropical breeze
on ocean currents, their journey never tarried
In a shallow tidal pool, a conch was stranded
A gift from Poseidon's hand, I'd been handed
I held the shell to my ear and then listened
awed by the sound while the sun glistened
Waves crested until on the beach they landed
With perfect rhythmic cadence they swelled
on a high tide until its last ripples were felled
Another always followed, close upon its wake
constantly flowing as if it had a thirst to slake
quenched by rushing ashore as if compelled
Buoyantly, bottles drift on the crest of a wave
Directed by the whims of tides, as if a slave
No ebbing waters have ever ferried one to me
I ponder how many notes drowned in the sea,
bottles speared by Neptune. Forsooth, a knave!
Categories:
speared, ocean, sea, water,
Form:
Rhyme
In the middle of Asgard, where the Gods and Goddesses live, is Yggdrasil by name, the tree of life is its fame. The eternal green Ash tree, the branches stretching out over all the nine worlds. Yggdrasil is carried by three enormous roots. Next to the first root is a well named Urd's well, where the Gods have their daily meetings. Next to the second root is Mimir's well, and the third root close to the well Hvergelmir. It is here the dragon Nidhug is chewing on one of Yggdrasil's roots. Nidhug is also known to suck the blood out of the dead bodies, that arrive at Hel. At the very top of Yggdrasil lives a giant unnamed eagle, the eagle and the dragon are bitter enemies, they truly despise each other. There is a squirrel named Ratatosk, who spends his time running up and down the Ash tree, doing what he can to keep the hatred alive between the two. "Urd" means "destiny". The generally accepted meaning of Old Norse Yggdrasill is "Odin's horse", drasill means "horse" and Ygg is one of Odin's many names. There are four stags that feast of the foliage of the Ash tree also.
In the Poetic Edda, the tree is mentioned in three poems. In the Voluspa, stanza 19, the Volva says: (Volva, a shamanic seeress)
An ash I know there stands,
Yggdrasill is its name,
a tall tree, showered
with shining loam.
From there comes the dews
that drop in the valleys.
It stands forever green over
Urd's well.
When Odin hanged, speared, for nine days on the World Tree, he uttered the words that he had 'sacrificed himself onto himself'.
In Norse mythology, the Norns are three female divine beings who have more influence over the course of destiny than any other beings in the cosmos. They dwell within the Well of Urd.
Categories:
speared, mythology,
Form:
Narrative
Oh my beautiful Daughters
what have you done to the men of the Earth,
turning the roar of men's' love into notes of shame and whispers,
discoloring the gallant glow of trust with untempered lust for popular worth,
I made you to be embodiment of something sacred,
a steadfast source of Divine sincerity in the chaos of Man's struggle to be heroic,
to soothe and inspire His hope for honor, to be the hand he could hold in the tremor of dread,
in the Begining you did this much and more, exceeded the seed of my dream, making Them historic,
But you, my remorseless and rabid Girls
sought to be worshiped as a cult of marauding maidens of madness,
a horde of haughty harpies wanting glory your own, thrones tailored from supine bones,
pleasured as predators of Princes and paupers
saddistic seducers of troubadours and savants,
making " high minded " heros helpless on the cliffs of your thrills,
Oh my ravenous Daughters what have you done to the hearts of men,
what have you become with speared touch and rough laughter,
warm in love sport and cold in lip lies,
the Furies have your fame and faces framed in black flame
the day is soon when your beauty will become ashen, charms unmet with passion,
and the Furies will befriend you
adorn with thorned fashion, feed you a vulture's ration,
Nemesis is on your terrible trail of predatory travail
She to unveil the wail of your reward's gale,
my lovely Princesses, my girls of gnarled gain
a wind storm of lovers' cries flies towards you
a punishment Holy in it's honor and horrible in It's hit,
bite you shall, sixfold from Humility's tit -
J.A.B.
Categories:
speared, judgement,
Form:
Epic
I was speared by a Cupid star gazer
More likely the devil's hell-raiser !
With much mischief, his darts,
like his poems, would impart
a wit that's as sharp as a razor !
It's time for his shame to repent !
The Soup wants to charge you some rent
Your arrow and name,
that flared with hot flames,
died out, and I'm here to lament !
_____________________________________
For Skat's Contest: "Heartbreaking Poet"
Categories:
speared, funny, humor,
Form:
Limerick
At crushing depths
Titanic rests
Rusticles- like red ice
hang from her corpse
[the excrement of
fathoms deep bacteria]
And now technology
[ undreamed of when it was needed]
peers at her
[long submerged wreckage]
from slick sub-like vessels
taking computer generated
photo mosaics
[for investigators to pore over.]
Once, mystifying questions
are un-layered one by one
from evidence locked
within her tortured skeleton,
revealing
[ not the simple impact of an iceberg]
sealed her fate]
but rather, a 'series of happenings',
[without remedy.]
Rivets with 'too much slag'
gave way
letting in Atlantic's weight
Her belly full,
she hugged her center keel
[in futile efforts]
to keep bow and stern connected.
As she sank, into eternity,
chambered cells,
[once meant to prevent
the onslaught of the sea,]
were swiftly breached
Sea weight tore her
great- ship's-soul asunder,
and sinking to the sea's dark floor,
she took with her,
poor forsaken passengers
[crying in disbelief ]
at the cruel and lying 'myth.'
See sawing down,
the broken stern end
speared, into fathoms deep mud,
the bow rails stayed intact
[for all the ghosts
to lean on ]
And with the solving of
her final hours,
it is unthinkable,
that this rusticled specter
[once so full of mystery]
had been declared to be
'unsinkable.'
ALL YOURS (Jun 10)
Contest Judged: 6/9/2021 11:40:00 PM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
First Place
Categories:
speared, destiny, fate, history, integrity,
Form:
Free verse