Best Stiles Poems
‘far from the madding crowds’ and cars
this green and pleasant land of ours
conceals behind its dry stone walls
secrets, streams and waterfalls
where stepping stones that gather moss
shine forth and tempt us both across
to distant fields of eighties’ skies
now clouded through autumnal eyes
where sheep still bleat as we both pass
along old paths of weathered grass
rekindling thoughts as each track weaves
of first love, hope and burning leaves
that once infused a simpler air
but linger still inside somewhere
to guide us on those wistful miles
through woods, past farms and over stiles
in search of where we sat and spent
time dreaming dreams of dreams we dreamt
over the hills and far away
inside a world called yesterday
and where we’d stay ‘til light turned late
in fields beyond the kissing gate
where now through smiles and gentle tears
reflecting on those forty years
it feels like time has flown so fast
since young love asked if love could last.
Nature trail extends for miles
Surrounded by wetlands and lakes
Each step I take brings me closer
To an old plantation, where I climb the stiles
For it was here that slaves once toiled
To raise and harvest sugar cane
Their cries and moans can still be heard
And the Plantation’s magic is spoiled
Within this forest are the echoes
Of every gasp, every word
Slaves once uttered in their daily trials
In these deep woods, far from the meadows
Spanish settlers claimed this site
Where Natives suffered in their plight
Shadowy specters never kissed by sunlight
Reverberating sadness in a world void of light
Written February 19, 2020
N/A in Joseph May's “Lines to Awaken Your Muse” poetry contest, judged March 2, 2020.
Line Chosen: #4 by Robert Frost - “Whose woods these are, I think I know”
Belligerent and irritated by almost any little thing
Insaneness all around me; craziness is what I bring
Psychosis is not the problem; the problem lies within
Overzealous personality; much absorption sinking in
Liar, cheat and manipulator; trust you should not give
Ambition at its lowest; no longer wanting to live
Racing thoughts; trying to unwind an ultimate goal for an unstable mind
Stacy Lynn Stiles
Oh baneful yellow Moon in fullest rounded sphere,
Bright as Summers Buttercups in abundant yield,
Coldly riveted upon Winters beaten, thin silvered panels;
Thereof: By ye mighty hammer doth great thoth wield!
For what fearful trowel gouged out thine far flung valleys
Whilst piling high upon yon monstrous heights?
Wherest, scattering the bare pebbles, a ghostly sower
Coursing across vast cratered plains under Selenian moonlights.
Here once didst thou swelling tides ever invade long vanished shores
Dragged upon by some dwindling, exploded, far distant star;
An atmosphere girdling, warming and nurturing -
Torn from this barren rock and cast way out afar!
Eternally ostracized and deviled, adorned in black swirling robes;
Drifting angular grains heaped - raked by hot solar winds;
Your desolate kingdoms lit in all seasons under heavenly lanterns;
Worshiped and foully cursed upon: for any amount - and all manner of sins.
And ere did erstwhile lovers that ever come forth on bended knee,
To traverse the pale beams that twist about the crooked stiles,
Pledge well intended oaths beneath high, impossible windows:
Their grandly draped balconies and balustrades bathed in luminosities wiles.
When across the recorded centuries of histories misted-veiled years,
from the quill of the old sage, from the high lilt of the bard,
Your pensive countenance disaffected and of a cheerless tilt -
Hanging upon sharply crested vestiges of reckless disregard!
The sylvan landscape stretched for miles
reached across golden fields by stiles.
Leaves carpeted the ground like tiles
whilst branches lay in gathered woodpiles.
Ancient venerable trees lined the aisles
that wandered willy nilly like juveniles.
Along the river's banks were basking reptiles
with mouths that upturned in happy smiles.
In the midst of the rushing water were isles
that rose up high like big projectiles.
And trees marched up the hills in files
giving shelter to the fox and his wiles.
The peace of the woodlands beguiles
within its tranquillity there are no exiles.
Ignorant to the favoritism; a desire to be special too
Naïve to all the sarcasm and criticism; finding it easy to subdue
Validity still not broken as I feverishly try to understand
Insanely searching for something; waiting upon your command
Silence numbs my body; reaching out for a delusion to hold
Imperfect vanishing appearance; a love so wrongfully cold
Brazen on the outside; while dying on the inside all alone
Love is all I ever yearned for; not this affection carved in stone
Eagerly waiting for a sign; will you see, or are you forever blind?
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
Self-Esteem destroyed; lost and never found
Engaged in unwanted advances; horror all around
X-Rated is the actions; the pain is something unable to forget
United are the demons, which created the mood to set
Audacity running through his veins; unable to see the fright
Losing all my dignity; fighting with all my might
Lusting for a purpose; one of the ultimate sins
Yearning for gratification; not thinking about the child within
Mortified beyond repair; a terrified child now resides
Open to the vulnerability; a perfect secret now to hide
Losing this perverted battle; feeling mute and all alone
Emptiness has now replaced, a subtle joyful tone
Silence I have learned; haunting memories hiding within
Trust I give to no one; for all of life is one big sin
Exiled from a childhood, that helped make me who I am today
Disgraced by the memories as I watched my childhood fade away
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
I'm sitting here
Admiring the view
Thankful for it's beauty
It's comfort
It's familiarity.
I've been here before
So I can close my eyes
and picture it still
And I know it all.
Deep breath in
Contented smile
Snapshot made
The scene is owned
Then the eyes open
As realisation strikes
- I own nothing
- I know nothing
I don't know
how each hill was formed
the names of the farmers who built the stiles to every field
or the names of those who now own those blankets of land
I cannot begin
to count every blade of grass
to measure the mist
to know the age and history of every tree
The past of the very bench I'm sat on
is a mystery to me
The winding roads have their own heritage
And I can't say who first walked it's length
Or where that plodding bus was built
Or where it's been since it's birth
The cars stuck behind are heading on their own unique journeys
I can't vouch as to where to or where from
Far less state the words and thoughts of those cocooned inside
Or declare the depth of any of the puddles they pass
I can't tell you the wattage of the bulb
Shining through that distant window
Still less how warm the sun will feel in an hour
Or the direction the wind came from, even ten seconds ago
The provenance and future of those clouds
Cannot be told by them
Let alone by me.
Eyes close once more
I know nothing but
the fact that this view
In this moment
Does belong to me
And that maybe, somehow
I'm all the wiser for knowing less
Manipulated into thinking I know not right from wrong
Overpowered by his stature; my weakness makes him strong
Loathing at the thought that the time has come to go to bed
Escaping all the nightmares; forcing them to the back of my head
Sexually deviant and wicked; he’s completely out of control
Twisted are his thoughts, as he finally takes my soul
Evil vicious cycle; spinning round and round and round
Devastation lasting a life-time; still waiting to be found
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
I can’t cry
Tears won’t fall
Dried up forever
A built up wall
You can’t hurt me
I’m too numb to feel
The lash of your sting
This time it’s real
I’ve lost the ambition
And drive to do right
I’ve lost the admiration
And the will to fight
I can’t cry
My tears have disappeared
I can’t give you back
What you stole over the years
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
Frame is solid, some refurbishing needed; I have a room for rent
Only needs a few repairs and my patience has well been spent
Ready for immediate occupancy as soon as one can spare
Renovations commencing instantly; rent is somewhat fair
Equipped with all the essentials; a spacious room is what you’ll find
Needs an well organized individual; one able to dwell inside this mind
Today it’s clean and tidy as can be; tomorrow's a new day, I'll wait and see
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
Dainty
Admiring
Unique
Gentle
Heartfelt
Tender
Emotional
Rarity
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
Untie the binds that bind you
Set yourself a flee
Release the mental anguish
Which you’ve chosen to share with me
Put your faith and trust anew
Make it selfless and continually
For the pain and misery will leave you
And be replaced with endless love, faithfully
Your doubts are as clear, as a bright sunny day
Your wisdom has taught you much
Yet you still feel discerned to give it all away
Take head to all the warnings and what they have to say
Which path shall you take my friend?
And will you relinquish this pretentious lust?
For the time has come for certain
To give in to this taboo called trust
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
Anger is an explosive expression
Belligerence is not an excuse
Careless thoughts of idiom
Does not reason words of abuse
Why use it as a crutch?
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
Young love had finally made its way back into the 1980s and all of those teenage lovebirds
back in the 80s were so "totally gnarly." The 80s was when MTV made its TV channel debut,
the first cell phone was invented, and when a lot of people were born in that decade, that
had included Julia Stiles (born in 1981), Michael Cera (born in 1988), and even me (also
born in 1988). Also, the 80s were the times when hip-hop music and the break-dancing scene
were born, especially when the TV show, “Yo! MTV Raps” was on TV. It seems that young love
among the then-teen lovebirds ( teen boys and teen girls) had been in their lives since
the day they met at summer camp, middle school or high school. And when a teen boy and a
teen girl fell in love with each other the day they met, they knew it was love at first
sight. There were a lot of awesome things those teenage lovebirds have done back in the
1980s: they went to the movies, had gone out to eat, they had gone to the school dances
(including prom back in 1984), and stuff. Their outfits back in the 80s were “totally
tubular,” especially when all teen boys and teen girls were wearing their Converse shoes
and their Nike Air Sneakers. The 1980s were the best of times for all of the then-teenage
lovebirds and their parents. These people were young and in love, especially when they
were the ages between 13 and 17. And what their favorite love songs of the 1980s were
“Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper, “Material Girl” by Madonna, “Never Gonna Give You Up”
by Rick Astley, and other love songs that were heard back in the 1980s, especially the
year 1987. This type of young love has brought the best in all of the young couples. In
reference to young love among all of the then-teen couples, it’s like living in this “when
doves cry” moment. All young relationships are just like the ones these people have seen
in all movies from the 1980s, like “Dirty Dancing,” “Pretty In Pink,” “Can’t Buy Me Love,”
and “The Breakfast Club.” And if young love were to revisit the 1980s and bring it back
to the future, young love will be indestructible forever.