Best Sprang Poems
Simple Man, Just Striving To Have A Simple Soul
There was no great air of mystery about him
tho' kind, too much of his life had been sad and grim.
Truth, he would rather take a beating than tell lies
seeing others in hurt brought tears to his blue eyes.
In his gentle life he sought love and common sense
about his past he spoke with no storied pretense.
Upon waking and giving thanks for each new dawn
he sat on his porch, admiring green of his lawn.
Simple man just striving to have a simple soul
live life in peace, love his family was his goal.
Tho' life once led him down a very darkened path
he wore no hatred and displayed no burning wrath.
I felt his great strength, his kindness bore into me
I sprang from strong, blessed roots, his genetic tree.
Now he has journeyed on to his blessed reward
I have faced this world alone, its been very hard.
On blessed nights he appears to me in my dreams
oft telling me to walk besides cool mountain streams.
Then when things get too hot, step in cool aching feet
Find wisdom to not just foolishness dare repeat.
Have you guessed, this true friend, was my beloved dad
loved me with all his heart even when he was mad.
This my humble tribute, inked in poetic words
he taught life, love, beauty of dawn's sweet singing birds.
R.J. Lindley,
May 26th, 1973
Rhyme, (Tribute To A Great Man, My Father)
Note- ANOTHER OLD POEM , FROM MY PRIVATE JOURNAL.
Written back when I was a young nineteen year old, remembering my father, his death four years prior and wondering would the deep heartache ever stop.
when i pass
i will linger on in a few memories
a few nanoseconds in man's history
place no stone above me
with some name easily forgotten
never bury me in the earth
in some hollowed-out cavity
waiting for some delusional day
when cemeteries reach some prophecy
looking like a Wack-A-Mole celebration
cremate me and scatter the ashes
in some pleasant meadow
where i may luxuriate in bathing
in the Bose-Einstein condensation
as the sun rises with the solar wind
perchance an ash lights upon a blossom
a bee gathers pollen
i cling to its toil and escape in flight
hither and dither on the hives path
let me spend a full moon
in silvery shadows that dance
amidst the mockingbirds' song of the night
or rejoice in a tempest roaring
as the trees dance in God's metronome
His power dancing across the sky
in a glorious burst of light
please a meadow of promised halcyon days
where the mortal is scattered in gratitude
of what was so miraculous
to touch, to see, to taste, to smell
blessed with the senses
yet the grandest of them all
for i was given an entitlement
graced with the gift to love
in that first breath was my eternity
when the sun runs dry and expands
all have perished at Jupiter's gates
let my mortal existence return
from which it sprang
the fruition of that breath is home
where space and time harbor no path
where it was commanded
let there be light
OKC 9/22
The sun grew warmer
Passionately embraced earth
Joyous flowers sprang!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
18 March 2019
* It seems that this Haiku of mine was honored as POTW.
I would like to thank my friends who visit and comment on my
poems for their support! I also thank the officials of the site for
bestowing the honor! God bless you!
It was on a cold night in Bethlehem that hope was born
A babe lay in a manger as angels sang joyfully
Above the nativity a star shone casting bright light
Guiding the paths of three wise men to welcome our Savior
As shepherds flocked toward the illuminated holy site
The warmth from within still touches the hearts of all mankind
In remembrance we pray for harmony among mankind
As we celebrate the first Christmas, optimism born
In the Mideast soldiers bow down, recalling this wondrous site
For just one night thoughts of war fade, hearts are filled joyfully
They lay down weapons, focusing on the birth of our Savior
As they huddle together, sharing good will by camp light
In many parts of the world, homes illuminated by light
Peace touches the hearts of those who seek blessings for mankind
Church bells ring, signaling the arrival of our Savior
Souls are touched as the restoration of joy is now born
Worshippers proceed to mass, sharing greetings joyfully
If only each day could be filled with such a loving site
How welcome to see the sun rise each day on such a site
Hearts abounding with humanity from our inner light
With angels in each of us sharing good will joyfully
If I live to see such days, I’ll have new hope for mankind
Trust and faith would emanate, celebrating a Child born
A Child, a Leader Who would give His life as a Savior
Cast aside the trappings, focus only on our Savior
Keep in mind this first Christmas, a blessed and holy site
How wonderful it would be to see new harmony born
Differences seem petty as we revel in God’s light
Join me in expectations for the future of mankind
Like the seraphs let us sing out in hymns so joyfully
Make our future one that finds families praying joyfully
No greater inspiration than the birth of our Savior
From a Blessed Mother’s womb sprang a babe to save mankind
Let us be wise men, finding cause to worship at this site
War and hatred cannot exist within God’s holy light
Acceptance of each man’s worth can in joyful hearts be born
Raise your hearts, revel joyfully in our Savior’s glory
In cheer mankind recalls the site of a manger at night
Where neath a star’s light was born a King, the Son of our Lord
* Sestina written for the "Joy to the World" contest.
Born from the neck of his beheaded mother,
as her blood soaked the ground,
he rose and soared from the gore,
a beautiful winged stallion
most wondrous and divine among all horses.
White – completely white -
his wings were that of an angel,
and this amazing creature,
by soaring to the heavens,
transcended the mundane
by setting free his mother’s tortured soul.
Through history he flew
with his name synonymous
with wisdom, strength and courage.
Creator of Mount Helicon’s four sacred springs,
from whence nine water nymphs
sprang forth to bless the world,
Pegasus unleashed with the stamping of his hooves
melodious beauty gushing forth from fountains
when his friends the muses sang
and poetry came flowing from the heavens down to earth.
Pegasus resides now in the heavens.
Listen when it thunders.
Could those be his stamping hooves you hear?
Poetry is flowing to this very day,
for Pegasus lives on forevermore
shining brightly in the starry skies.
April 27, 2017
Golden soft was the light that swiftly flew,
as whistling rain pelted majestic oaks.
And, the soaked birds began to cry for you
as Nature silently wrapped up its cloaks,
thirsty for coming dawn, so bold and new.
Silver Maples fluttered in the wind
where fast asleep the rabbits hid away;
all the beauty we wish would never end,
the brightened colors of each joyful day,
as Nature's glory flowed out to transcend.
Still, in the silence, a flowing stream sang
a melody of bygone days and stones
skipping from little hands as flat slates sprang
and lent a lilt of laughter to each tone.
Can you taste the winds as the seasons flow?
The comfy scent of wood smoke on the breeze
recalls the snap of pine cones in the hearth
or trudging through forest deep for downed trees
to bring home for a Yuletide's start.
Water, wood, metal, fire, are God’s gifted plan.
Robert Lindley & Debbie Guzzi
As I wandered alone without a task
All around me wild flowers sprang forth
My face a sad contorted mask
Of emotionless strife since birth
My eyelids closed against the day
Enjoying the fall of darkness on my Earth
The sun tried to spread its ray
The sweet smelling fruit kissed my head
As beneath the mighty mango tree I lay
The deep red scars on my heart fled
When a strange melody on my fancy grew
And the balm of stillness on my limbs spread
An unknown peace I soon knew
When the leaves danced with the breeze
The shadows of my life I threw
The butterflies and the bees
On me did comfort heap
That amazingly I found under this tree
My shallow life and forgotten sleep
This wilderness made new
With pleasure my heart started to weep
The grave cares now seemed so few
My life found a new definition
And into the azure sky my soul flew
blooming and bobbing
flower power head turner~
feasting goldfinches
I passed a dancing sunflower on my walk today,
out sprang a goldfinch.
8/3/2020
Raven Speak Not To Me, For A Plague Flees Thy Lips
Sadness came, in clumps of ripping hard, smashing waves
as if morbid thoughts could such sorrows ever save,
none but the blind and deaf could know a darker realm
or more lost ship with, blinder captain at the helm.
Yet even in such pains, one must seek out the Light
for the blind can see, if they embrace truest of sight!
Wayfarer now in hideous ancient abodes
mind burning flames, blasts of misery that explodes,
born of the vile demons that plagued Master Poe
from fiery depths they sprang, as savage and dark foe.
What greater black-curse can one thus be forced to bear
or evil that sends monsters that nightly scare?
Raven speak not to me! For plague flees thy lips
weeping soul, prays not to enter such ghastly trips,
save your epic lashings and thy horrific calls
as well as scalding-hot brands from thy torture halls.
We that saw deepest pains, you once sent Master Poe
enter not chambers or beg more accursed shows!
Your friends attack, forcing each soul to further flee
from hell's first dark levels, with its pitiful pleas,
into caverns wicked, filled with flesh eating beasts
with each new arrival cry, more food for our feasts.
Sirens lure fleeing lost souls into black-sea pits
always seeking, more blood, deeper cuts, harder hits!
Raven, thy terror-nights will soon come to end
for in bright flooding lights, I have found a new friend,
stalwart ally, armed with more than long sharp teeth
one whose true faith, will silence thy calls from beneath.
Dawn's shimmering lights, you shall plague me no more
I bow to he, his powers seals your wicked door!
Robert J. Lindley,
Dark Poetry, ( Poe, Raven and Nightmares)
12-18-2018
They dragged her away
Kicking and screaming
Arms outstretched towards
My little sister
Who lay dying on the ground
Her lips parched
Her eyes sunken
Her wasted arms reaching out
“Myreik, don’t leave me!”
My father pulled her away from
The young soldier’s hands
The one who had violated her
The one who now sneered
“Keep moving….she will be dead
Before nightfall.”
I hurried after them
Stumbling through my tears
Afraid of being left behind
I turned for one last look
There she lay…her eyes closing
Left behind to join the
The dead along the path
My sister….
That night I didn’t hear her cry
Or complain as the soldiers
Dragged her away
She was beautiful
My mother
With eyes the color
Of the sea
Eyes that danced
And twinkled
Like stars on a clear night
Eyes that smiled
Eyes that embraced
Eyes that spoke
What words couldn’t say
I fell asleep to the sound of my father’s weeping
“Wake up,” I heard her say
As I fought to keep my dreams alive
My eyes fluttered open
I closed them to the hungry faces
I closed them to the filth on her dress
I searched her eyes
Calm and glassy
They looked past me
Not seeing
In them I read
No pain
No joy
No recognition
No….life!
Tears sprang to my eyes
Tears for the death of my sister’s body
Tears for the death of my mother’s soul…
My mother’s eyes
My mother’s eyes...
They haunt me still.
We drank a glass of crimson wine
We drank to long lost days;
Where in the past sweet memories shine
When our love was all ablaze.
But seasons died and visions fade
With phantoms of love's lost dream;
The joys we knew have never stayed
They sleep within this ruby stream.
We picked the purple grapes that lay
Beneath the brilliance of the sun;
Where the shimmer of an autumn day
Was reflected where the waters run.
We hoarded all the clustered shapes
That brought old times conjured up;
Of feet that danced upon the grapes
And wine that filled the chalice cup.
Within these drops of crimson lie
Blushing shackles holding fast;
Those dancing shadows that can't die
Brought fleet winged dreams that hurry past.
We touched the goblet's silver rim
Each sip adored the grape's sweet stain;
Then bubbles sprang from the brim
To assault the spaces of the brain.
In flagranti with an unknown lover
Sprang apart from underneath the cover
How his wife she did shout
Now his secret was out -
His hidden lover was her own mother!
4th March 2015
I raced outside to the rivers flow,
That illuminated the ground below.
At first the colors were soft and slow,
With Danali's peaks in the full moon glow.
Then an eerie flood of pastel rays,
Swirled through the sky like a tidal wave.
The electrifying pulse hit home,
Where a soul will never feel alone.
On my knees I began to pray,
To the angels as they dance and sway.
My heart soared high in the atmosphere.
I shouted, God, I'm glad you're here.
Reaching high for streams of light.
My heart took wings and joined the flight.
No longer bound to the likes of earth.
I sprang from the womb of celestial birth.
The wings of hope enfolded me;
Like an instrument in a symphony.
I swear the sound was heavenly.
As I joined in natures ecstasy.
Waltzing Shearer
Out near Dagworth Station during 1894
Where the Waltzing Matilda, Swagman drowned,
Cos he liked them lamb chops nicely browned,
He was only eating the Masters sheep, scoffing em down,
Disgusting said Squatters and frowned, some more,
In 1894,
Great Shearers strike was still happening,
Burned down Dagworth shearing shed, for sure,
Firing guns were the Gun Shearers , ..shore 300 sheep a day..
Fair wages they wanted, some more,
The Shearers strike it got ugly,
The Master brought in the Army and war,
Shearers were using Phosphorous,
Delayed action fires galore,
The master and 3 coppers came along ,
They chased down a swagman, before,
He plunged in the water, the billabong,
And death did come like a whore,
So he goes no more waltzing a Jumbuck,………..…sheep
His ghost lingers still there by the shore,
Was it the Combo, waterhole,
Where he sprang and he bubbles no more.
Don Johnson 24-sep-11
Yes Vom, Gram.
nothing wrong with sweet little whores,
except unless she sometimes snores,
and forgets to pay the rent,
and death is welcome as before,
for this dim malcontent...
One cold day, I was burning up
The rain outside was dry
The sunshine, mooned each falling star
Out there, inside was I
Reading, when I'm fast asleep
I saw no movement stand
I reached without and outstretched arm
to flick the fly that land
Bouncing, being very still
I thought it lively, dying
When up it sprang, just flatly
All it's energy, spent trying
Salt I sprinkled, as it poured
Atop, the underneath, it's belly
Finally flopping, to and fro
Then landing in my jelly