Best Staunch Poems
Regally it stands, the staunch guardian of her lonesome heart,
Reminiscing in revelries of yore, treasured memories impart,
Defying glum turbulence of now, hanging on to seasons past,
When springs-winsome banished, doldrums harsh-winters cast.
Disheartened, the gate harkens back~ O, so young its master died,
Lamenting of distressed times, when grief stilled her teary eyed;
Yet, with resolve, it squeaks its hinges, resounding a voice of pride,
Beckoning to benevolence of bliss, fate had so callously denied.
With kindred vibes it greets her, vying elation of cherished days,
Suppressing aches and rattles of its rusting, clamoring, phase;
Preferring realm of time, when he was the keeper of this place,
As dutifully now it opens wide, exuding mirth of youthful grace.
O, how fondly the gate recalls, dance of duo beneath full moon,
Humming melodies intimate, passions of doting souls croon,
Embracing celebration of life, as heartbeats enamored attune,
To rhythms emanating song of love, strumming infatuated tune.
Despite groans and whimpers, blaring aloud clattering of pain,
The gate vows to protect her, refusing ever to wither or wane,
Unwavering through thunders, rains, vicious strikes of feeble age,
Challenging its steeled bones, to gallantly defy seasons’ rage.
Categories:
staunch, emotions, memory, missing,
Form:
Personification
When leaks my pen of flowing ink
I quickly staunch the flood
by blotting with my fingertip
the pool of chromatic drip
Escapees while my mind took flight
wandering across the sky
writing in script of a damsel's plight
until the globules caught my eye
Often, I've stopped writing to think....
there lies drops of my poem's blood
Swirls and whirls of rhyme and phrase
captured with the stab of a finger
Words trapped inside a maze
where my poetic thoughts must linger
a miniature portrait of my write
a tattoo in black on parchment of white
Categories:
staunch, poetry,
Form:
Verse
He was my sun, my one and only son,
attired as a cowboy for the day.
And so I handed him a little gun
of fastened random sticks, for him to shoot and play.
Attired as a cowboy for the day
he searched for foes (with bows and arrows made
of fastened random sticks for them) to shoot, and play
the part of ‘Injuns’ in a mock charade.
He searched for foes (with bows and arrows made)
well written in his story books before he left for school.
The parts of ‘Injuns’ in a mock charade
were tainted with a crimson war paint, oh so cruel.
Well writ in history books before he left from school,
the tales (retold of victories that we’d won)
were tainted with a crimson war paint, oh so cruel.
The flow of paint was not to staunch when once begun.
From tales retold of victories that we’d won,
he learned to fight for God and country glory, though
the flow of pain, ’twas not to staunch when once begun
and bane to both sides (as he’d later come to know).
He learned to fight for God and country glory, though
the wounds of war were kept unseen (while nigh)
and bane to both sides (as we’d later come to know);
but still he stuffed a duffel bag with several things of youth, then said goodbye.
The wounds of war were kept unseen. While nigh,
the hours boomed, the clock struck 12 at last, his time to leave.
But, still, he stuffed a duffel bag with several things of youth, then said goodbye
to those who’d stay and even those who wouldn’t grieve.
The hours boomed, the clock struck 12 - alas, his time to leave.
They sent back body bags they’d stuffed with severed things of those who’d died
to those who’d stayed. And even those who wouldn’t grieve
with tears were stiff and masked like wooden boxes meant to hide.
They sent back body bags they’d stuffed with severed things of those who’d died;
his boots hung loose, one camouflaged in mud.
With tears, the stiff were masked in wooden boxes meant to hide
our children from the spilling of their blood.
His boots hung loose, one camouflaged in mud;
they said they’d needed him to help defend
our children from the spilling of their blood.
But can they ever see or really comprehend?
They said they’d needed him to help defend,
and so they handed him a little gun.
But can they ever see or really comprehend?
He was my sun, my one and only son.
Categories:
staunch, war,
Form:
Pantoum
Squabbling with words; spats in opposition
can bring about discord and suspicion
Christians should be able to live in harmony
or their accord and union will atrophy
What kind of world must humans think to mold
in bringing warmth and not a chilling cold
fashioning traits with kind words of diction
not spawning hurtful thoughts, causing friction
Antagonism unfolds to reveal hostility
ruining mutual trust and tranquility
With staunch optimism, I faithfully pray
that no chasm of rancor will whorl my way
For as long as the risen sun casts mornings in glory
we will not bind our souls with fear and worry
Each night a profusion of stars shine from above
I pray one day we will all share brotherly love.
Categories:
staunch, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
I am winter's nemesis.I fight it tooth and nail.
In my youth it declared a war on me.
When I licked that icy rail.
Winter has many weapons to choose from.
Fear not for so do I.
A call my shovel Excali-burrr
My Ranger has four wheel drive
But winter's arsenal is no laughing matter
Icicles sent to impale, and black ice is its deadly device
But the human spirit is not that frail
I am winter's nemesis, and though it muffles all sound
This war is raging with bitter disdain.
My driveway the battle ground
I shall not relinquish my parking spot
to your mindless rabble of flakes
So bow to me you wretched season
For I shall never tire.
and my staunch ally will soon be spring
and together we will force a cease fire
For I am winter's nemesis
And these walls shall not be breached
Until my tour of duty is done
and I retire to Miami beach
Categories:
staunch, funny, seasonswar, war,
Form:
Free verse
Earth element of wind, elusive to exploring eyes,
a gaseous, gusty ghost, she gyrates- gallops gallantly.
She bashes, bends, and bobs the branches of each bush and tree,
and chases, circles, curls dry fallen leaves so agilely.
We hear her bellow, bawl, and bluster when she's feeling fierce;
soft sounds of swishing, stirring- sighing when serene and tame.
With solid, staunch, and strapping strength, she soon can shift a house
within a raucous, raging, raving, reckless, hurricane.
She cools, controls, composes in the sultry summer heat,
forms wild and wheeling waves with whitecaps on the widespread sea;
a force that's fearless, frantic, sometimes, feeble- frail, she flies,
impermanent, intangible, she soars invisibly.
This ghastly glimmer of great ghostly gumption rushes by,
a force that is not sculpture, shadow, silhouette, or shape.
We feel and hear her apt and awesome atmospheric breath-
until she plans her fast, flirtatious, feathery escape.
March 18, 2016
~1st Place~
Contest: 2019 Poetry Marathon Qualifier's Final Placement
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Judged: 04/20/2019
~1st Place~
Contest: 2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 22
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Judged: 03/08/2019
~1st Place~
Contest: Elements Part 2: Wind
Sponsor: Brian Davey
Judged: 3/29/2016
*Alliteration, Rhyme, written in Iambic Heptameter,
14 Syllables, 7 feet per line
Categories:
staunch, appreciation, tribute, weather, wind,
Form:
Alliteration
Speak not to me of love, I cannot bear to hear
The fervent pleas you stoop to whisper in my ear
Speak not to me proclaiming staunch fidelity
Or how you will adore me through eternity
Speak not of how your love is stronger now by far
Than what it was before, so I must lift the bar
Speak not in vows regarding purity
Of how you swear to worship me, and only me
I've heard confessions of this sort quite oft before,
No proof are they of love, I'll show you now the door
My heart has bled enough, I want the pain to end
Our love has run its course, why must I now pretend
While you were loving her, he started loving me
My broken heart he healed and showed me ecstasy
The shroud of pain you gave, he turned to joyous gown
My head with kisses wreathed and gifted me a crown
His ravished all the places unbeknownst to you
Each fantasy he played, each dream he made come true
His tongue, it sweetly roamed to each delicious place
Our bodies fused in rhythm, lost to time and place
Speak not of sad regrets and turning back in time
Of seeking to recapture love that was sublime
Each night he speaks to me in passion's lovely rhyme
With heart and soul I speak and tell him he is mine!
For Georgio V's Iambic III Contest
This is written in Iambic hexameter
October 6, 2014
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
staunch, betrayal, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
I often passed the time away
walking with you, Natalia,
down on the beach.
The sand, the sun, the surf,
perfection to you.
The breeze with its saliferous scent,
the sound of the swelling billows
as they hit the darkened rocks.
I often remember those walks.
How can I ever forget?
Your sparkling eyes,
that wan smile,
the resignation of life despite
the scar that ran down
one side of your cheek,
a remnant of a useless operation.
Ah Natalia, you always amazed me.
We have been friends, since our childhood days.
Always friends ready to help.
You never changed.
Your staunch attitude and patience,
your failing strength and knowledge
that you had no future to look forward to.
Yes, you amazed me that facing death
you even planned your own funeral.
Till one fine sunny day,
despite the lost battle,
a smile on your face
you peacefully passed away,
surrounded by
your many brothers and sisters,
missed by all and especially
by me. Rest in peace, dear Natalia,
rest in the peace you deserve.
Categories:
staunch, appreciation, best friend, death,
Form:
Free verse
Some parts of life are permanent,
alas, some aspects not:
The morning temperature feels chill;
by midday it grows hot.
The money spent on cell phones'
long-term value which I sought,
Too soon is gone, as more is spent
on upgrades I've since bought.
The sun in its celestial course
yields light, black night, or shade.
Old years tossed out with calendars
as fire's embers fade.
Some friendships evanesce,
forgetting promises we'd made
Our children grow and move away,
as hair grows thinned and greyed.
Staunch boughs of trees are shaken by
harsh winds, enduring long.
'That time of year thou mayest in me
behold'; thy love's more strong.
You've been my life's sweet constant
as we harmonize our song -
One truth is undeniable:
in your arms I belong.
// Dedicated to Janet, my loving bride of 35 years //
Categories:
staunch, love, marriage, storm,
Form:
Rhyme
I walk an already trodden path...
Uncertain, of future lives that lie ahead
But, in faith I close these earthly Ojibwa eyes
In trill, thus, I hear the old ways in your presence amidst Chinook winds
As harmonic they play across the plains, from sacred astral pipes
Mimicking cricket songs that echo abstract out of the season's last autumn mist
I also hear your fifes in the rustle of the leaves, rising into writhe
And almost see your spirit aura as it accompanies the Algonquian breeze
Ancient ghost of proud, but now lost upon a dying nation tribe
Your music from beyond is narrations of a mystical language nature speaks
Sweeping thrush calls, chirps through weeping willow weeps,
Unto past September sounds, beating down on war drum clouds, of thundering maelstrom claps
And babbling brooks going on and on until narrowing creaky creeks
Alas, whooper wills warning and morning loons mourning, hidden amidst the swaying grass
When I see you, I imagine spectral legends majestic high across horizon's sky
Snowy silhouettes in headdress, drifting in flowing rainbow crowns
And with the night, I see you in my mind dance as the "Will-Ó-the-wisp" just might
Then, my body shivers from the distance, where your flute imitates the cry of the lone coyote's sound
As for all of your Mishomis (grandfather) traditions, I accept there is a greater essence
Kindred I am, son to your spirit and without partition from an Ojibwa eye
And I stand here staunch in cattail marshes, pondering my place in ancestral questions
Now, your answers again begin to play upon the wind, but this time traveling through the November... Whispers on needles of the pine
I walk an already trodden path...
But, each new step before me keeps this culture alive...
Written in honor of my Chippewa family ©2012 Michael G. Smith
Categories:
staunch, native american, autumn,
Form:
Ode
the tallest I’ve ever seen was in primary
towering like a General in the military
a haggard expression of pain and disgust
the needle like leaves his ooze would discard
he seemed so staunch in his camouflage and upright salute
the pinecones resembling a grenade assault
as curious children do, to climb we were too eager
mystery lay hidden somewhere in his evergreen erect figure
the teacher would soon be called to the rescue
climbing down now an impossible chore
some disciplinary action would be enforced
he wouldn't even be swaying in the wind this unmoveable force
then one day the war would finally be won
it took a couple of grades of broken bones and casting stones
high up in his clutches where our balls would be stuck
he would be uprooted and loaded onto the back of the truck
but when he left, the school grounds seemed so empty
he had retired after generations serving this country
that's why it now felt like such a pyrrhic victory
in hindsight, he was truly our sentry
08-23-2015
Contest: Charlotte Jade Puddifoot's Trees Personified
Categories:
staunch, childhood, school, tree,
Form:
Personification
The sins of a corrupted heart
turn desire to disease.
A master of deceptive tongue
cloaks his staunch misdeeds.
His twisted mind dreams darkly
of perversion and deceit,
just as the earth yields bitter fruit
if sown inferior seed.
So let his treacherous tears spill forth!
Let him beg impunity!
While celestial judges close their ears
and the Gods refuse his plea.
Categories:
staunch, people
Form:
Quatrain
They come from a different era
where patriotism is a just cause
they would fight for the true blue
never mind who was right or wrong
they stood staunch and egos proud
their chest out, backs straight and chins up
they come from an old style of thinking
I fight today as my father and grandfather did too.
fighting for an eye for an eye tooth for a tooth
I will die to serve my country even if its a lie
if you try to invade our land
we will come and conquer you
we are defenders of the truth
but the old timers forget
and the young ones have a narrow point of view
there was a time when the immigrants were Irish, Italians and jews
racism was rampant and that hasn't changed
Christians today still preach
'Jesus is savior they say repent your evil ways
pushing their rhetoric just like the roman empire did
amazingly America seems to be doing the same
history seems to repeat itself time and time again
war, religion, oil and what we perceive as freedom
we invade again and again and call it defending democracy
yet the intelligence comes from spies and other governments
because they have shared interests in different types of policy
they all carefully choose their words
because one slip of the lip could trigger war as it has happened before
todays war on terrorism is a campaign designed to instill pain
and un-trust to drain our resources from us
And our leader claimed up front this is not a religious war
yet he paraphrases from the bible we'll get those evil doers
you see bush fooled our religious leaders too.
he used their belief in Jesus he tricked 'em all just to get their vote
he claims he's a born again Christian and this Christians embraced him holly
but then one day bush spoke to Jesus and asked what to do with Iraq
Jesus responded Invade that country
Now dont get me wrong Jesus was not about war
he taught of peace, love and compassion
however his message has been twisted and turned over time
and history shows the hands of Christian religious leaders are always bloody
because they twist the truth to control dictatorship is always the goal
Bush had been plaining war before a judge handed him the seat
on his first day he signed a bill into law prevent any criminal charges against him
Categories:
staunch, angst, death, history, war,
Form:
Free verse
CITADEL AND CONSTELLATIONS
The green leaves in rugged moans;
The tall bushes in rumbling groans;
The roofs train creaks-- their fugue
blow cobwebs hugging branches below,
such are precursors inviting darkness lair
for stormy clouds before crowd the days.
Yellow horizon seem unreachable honey
as in my life's ocean, balloon billows I bear.
I-- surged in every swell to skirt yet still
lashing waves dashed pushing me sometimes to despair.
Again, cataclysm walk unheralded casting loose
my arms lift upon the glimmer of silver lining from afar
somber shadows enshrouded me in a mist of struggles.
Ounce of strength I have, I try to juggle and juggle
yet, curses fell from hearts and lips parched of love.
All these came, one and all --
the flowing light has flickered flash and gone
but beyond all these you stood -- my sentinel...
You hushed the bad constellations hanging 'round my world
like a lighthouse guiding a lost ship to his home.
Yes! You are my beacon, a promontory amidst
cyclic onslaught brambles and chameleons,
a rock to cling in the wind's creeping fury,
Staunch and firm, my ñhero fighting the torrential
cascade of tirades and reproaches: MY CITADEL. . .
_____________________________________________________________________
***Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name Your Favourite Old Poem #2
++Placed 2nd++
***Sponsor Justin Bordner
Contest Name How You Make The Stars Hush
++Placed2nd++
©O.E. Guillermo
06:37 pm, February 24, 2015
Categories:
staunch, imagery, inspiration, life, love,
Form:
Narrative
Synchronicity woven by fate’s volatile hands
Gave rise to calamity in deceptive, calm skies
Creating tragedy so harsh that reason defies
Into a nation’s sad heart, a mortal arrow lands
"Hear ye, teachers," the benign invitation had been sent
Demonstrate the right stuff, be the first launched into space
Compete they did earnestly for this distinguished place
To young mother Christa McAuliffe, NASA gave consent
That same day Florida’s governor prepared to launch
His much anticipated U.S. Senate campaign
En route to his first stop in Jacksonville on a state plane
Bob Graham’s speech was well prepared for supporters staunch
From the air, Graham watched as a sudden flash appeared
Souls of seven astronauts dispatched to heaven’s gate
His campaign aborted as circumstance would dictate
And the hopes of a traumatized country disappeared
First teacher in space lost abruptly, never to return
Husband and daughter left behind, forever changed
Profound tributes to a beleaguered space program arranged
Perils of space travel countless mourners would discern
* Written February 1, 2019 for Emile Pinet's Enclosed Rhyme Contest.
* On January 28, 1986, the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded just seconds after launch from Cape Canaveral. Ironically, Florida Governor Graham, accompanied by members of the Capital Press Corps, did not understand what they had seen in the sky until after their plane landed in Jacksonville. The excitement of a campaign launch was quickly dispelled by the depth of the tragedy that claimed the lives of teacher Christa McAuliffe and six other astronauts. His campaign postponed, Graham returned to the state capital to observe a period of national mourning. The last words the astronauts heard from the control tower were, "Throttle Up, Challenger."
Categories:
staunch, grief, space,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme