Best Stoical Poems
When I hear the sound of "Taps" on Memorial Day,
Or hear that plaintive tune when a veteran is laid away,
I try to remain stoical but am easily moved to tears,
As I recall the sacrifices of heroes throughout the years.
Valiant men suffered hardships at their posts in Valley Forge,
To win our nation's independence from resolute King George.
Stalwart men died in the War of 1812 and at the historic Alamo,
To sustain our precious freedoms - so much to them we owe!
The Civil War upheld the Union, tho' much needless blood was shed.
'Twas during that awful conflict that "Taps" was born, 'tis said.
Since its genesis, its haunting tune is yet heard o'er the graves,
Of heroes who sacrificed their all to ensure our flag yet waves!
They served with honor to defend the liberties we hold dear,
And to preserve dignity for others around this troubled sphere,
Giving all on the Altar of Honor for mankind's follies to atone.
Alas, in return, all they merited was a simple marble stone.
Sadly, most every day we hear that melancholy strain,
Echoing across the nation from hills and verdant plain.
As a grateful nation gathers to bid each a sad goodbye,
Parents, spouses and children are left to wonder - WHY!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories:
stoical, sadwar, men, war, ,
Form:
Rhyme
At the entrance of evening, the melting sun slowly drips
over the treetop horizon;
Beckoning the moon to peek through the opaque shades
As lazy winds play tag with the heated night.
The staccato symphony of horny crickets pervade the scene
Piercing the stoical still silence with melodic sounds.
Weighed eyes and muffled ears grow weary…
Retreating the scene and its sounds.
Sleep, the stranger of the day, threatens familiarity:
None can avoid her acquaintance.
Unable to complete, I slip into the twilight of dreams
Knowing not if I shall greet tomorrow here.
God willing and Earth’s water baptize my eyes, maybe,
Just maybe, I will rise to fight another day.
So in this twilight dim, I pray my childhood
Prayer to Him:
" Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake;
I pray the Lord my soul to take."
Categories:
stoical, dream, emotions, sleep, summer,
Form:
Prose Poetry
At times, go public spending
And twice, will the salaries of functionalism
While they fleece the public treasure
Easy-going, claim the subdued
At the profuse bronchitis of patriotism
At the mercy of poor care
Get up, come and join us will
The scum of nations
Countless like the grains
In the deep Oceans
And the stoical vastness of deserts
Where the annoying wind
All entangled in gigantic fuss
And it even that more awake
Stay the unwary, because of all this
Categories:
stoical, angst,
Form:
Free verse
Cloaking misty hills and many a deep valley floor:
The empty Moor presents an outlook, stoical and dour.
Seemingly barren, this mute guardian of history,
Emits an air of arcane intrigue and darkest mystery.
Stunted Jack Pines, seen clustered on a distant knoll,
Stolidly defy Nature, though she exacts her toll.
They, as living record of ravages exacted by time,
Struggle to survive the harassment of its harsh clime.
Of other trees that one seeks, there are but few to see;
Except for a solitary Oak, a rugged, ponderous tree,
With deeply gnarled bark and stout branches entwined,
That survives, whilst all others, the Moor has declined!
When storm clouds threaten, and the midday dims,
This land, subject to Nature’s unpredictable whims,
Sends all Moor denizens scurrying, helter skelter
To seek the comfort and safety of familiar shelter.
When evening winds, croon their eerie symphony,
And babbling rills join in, to send haunting melody
Echoing across the ling, it provokes fresh fears,
That warn the Moor is no place to be, when night nears.
When the Moor is lit by a full moon, still there’s deceit,
For deep hazardous shadows, often trick unwary feet,
As bog and tussock, seemingly reach out to ensnare,
The ill fated interloper who chances to stumble there!
For Nature strives to erase all signs of human hand,
Would return the Moor to what befits this native land.
Her awesome control, allows for no compromise,
As those who would challenge her ways, soon realise!
But I enjoy the freedom such visits offer me;
For tis therein, I find peace and serenity.
So when solitude is an urgent need, and my goal,
The Moor brings composure to my tormented Soul.
Rhymer August 20th, 2016
Categories:
stoical, imagery,
Form:
Pastoral
Three Penguins
Three little waddling penguins, walk like well dressed men
There all huddles en masse leaned against the ice felt cold,
Then their stoical stance as they dream when spring will be again,
They may be at the extreme edge of life forever in steadfast they hold.
Some may live within the ice and are forever adrift,
In all of winter seasons in dire discontent,
At times, their hapless lives must leave them so miffed
Never can I imagine an extreme time was spent.
For initially as i contemplate by these penguins I'm inspired,
In their ice-filled lives how they might and may detest;
They all go about every day doing their business dressed well attired,
The three little penguins know how to keep their image looking their best.
Written: 3/4/15
Theresa Marie W-C
Categories:
stoical, appreciation, beautiful,
Form:
Rhyme
Day dawns on me breathlessly with drudgery,
Gayless is my countenance to elude the cartload of tasks.
Yeah is only the option that makes me trot with lunch box,
Mayhem is the state of affairs that drain me out and out.
Recuperating with tiny box to resume,
Munndane tasks when everything is drab and drowsy.
Rejuvenating with break for tea and,
Lampooning the lives of others with mediocre actions.
The twilight of the day in the company,
Of sunset stretches for my hand for outing.
Budging an inch by inch with buzzing and bustling thoughts,
Knowing thereby to be in the vortex of life.
Moving earth and heaven to get reprieve of thorn ridden way,
Hoping to make it to stoical life.
That turns to be the tranquilizer of repressing all ripples of life..!!
Categories:
stoical, how i feel, life,
Form:
Free verse
Carnage creators. Crackerbreads chats. And a wide angled grinning photographer who is having appalling dreams of incorrect information is now ironed flat. Just like a pizza base. But no bassist can ever locate a pretty floral curve in the air. Especially when the expedition notes are playing B B B E E E B E B E B E AM A A A A. That is fundamentally different to a single quack or a peck. And when the legs have become tired from stalking a petal the hair relaxes. Thus turning from an electric hay bale into a carved creation. Wow. Laughter omitted from a painting can be very dramatic if the angles of voice are in a off position. So clap the switch. And so said a speaker who was gathering alot of dust which was not pleasing for the distinguished lord dog fogram de la mangers earl of Grayson hall. Harvesting can be achieved with a colander but nit a cylinder for cylinders carry cases of coned coniferous clambering chomping chocolates. And the arrival of those chocolates is said to desensify even the most frozen of sword. Swordfish swallowing swampy seas. And a little fortress flirting and flitting with a flat framework. Hahaha a bead over there! Is magnified in a spot light. Haha spritely springing stoical shell. Hahah musk mooing. Xxxxx elephantine xxxxx alphanumeric Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z ok then. And now eat a crystalized burger with a recorded relish. Z.z£5's %0¥808, 900, 909 $2 3 1 €666, 666, 666 and boom said an android article. *#*#7% of a piccolo cloud club. Z.
Categories:
stoical, adventure, america, assonance, aubade,
Form:
Tic toc tic toc ticing
Round I go nowhere new
Innocent encircling
Stoical hitherto
Tic toc ta... ... Where is time?
Decoupling tic from toc
Freedom, is that a crime?
Tic dont skip He's time jock
On the wall on their wrist
Infamous tic don't miss
Low middle upper class
Reap what your parent's sows
Our birth grouped by known mass
Compounded bias grows
A zealous radical
Thought is, equality?
Real or abstractional
Freeman's dichotomy
God creates and gives breath
Best used by date stamps death
Planets orbit the sun
Also round it's axis
Constant can't be out run
Ascertained through praxis
However how bout, you?
Isn't change an option
Forge your change in hue, a
Rainbow draws[back] attraction
Like an archer, to pierce
The hearts who weary in fierce
Categories:
stoical, imagery, people,
Form:
Rhyme
You seem stoical
Photographed without crutches
You know something's wrong
Categories:
stoical, angst, emotions, family, hurt,
Form:
Haiku
The Mighty Lion
The Mighty Lion, standing proud.
All things beneath him; nothing as loud,
As the roar of this beast, in the middle of the night.
There is no other creature for him to fear
And he has wisdom behind those amber eyes.
So stoical, he stands there;
As he is observing his plain.
All others are running around so quickly,
Whilst he remains unruffled,
With his courageous heart,
Behind his mighty mane.
No challenger approaching; no chance of defeat.
The Mighty Lion stands proudly,
As he rules over all that which he can see.
From the birds in the sky,
Down to the insects beneath his feet.
The Mighty Lion rules with razor-sharp claws
And he can end any fight by simply showing his teeth.
His counsel is sought, to settle neighbourhood disputes.
His decision is final; his words speak only truth.
His eyes can see through liars, as he gains knowledge from his Pride.
He stands there, remarkable, in his domain
And his view is always right.
He knows all of the stories that spread around the group.
He has an army of animals on his side.
They are under his leadership.
They are his motley crew.
The Mighty Lion stands apart,
For he is truly their King.
He has earned his place at the Head of the Pride,
But still, he walks alongside all others
And he fears nothing.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Categories:
stoical, animal, cat, fear, image,
Form:
Deeply engulfed in all her fears
empty eyes can only stare
Emotions hidden from her face
vanished now without a trace
Her heart is flooded from inside
drowning with the tears she cried
Unconcerned to turn the spout
to save herself and let it out
Stoical she might portray
Enigmatic some might say
Who destroyed this woman's prowess..
Who can abide in loneliness..
Left alone without remorse
she shies away from all recourse
As words still echo in her head
a loving soul is left for dead...
Categories:
stoical, introspection, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Pleasantly radiant, tranquil weather
blue skies & gently benevolent wind
a shimmering gift from Mother Nature
(a smoldering summer lurking in the distance)
Compulsively tracking an unquantifiable self:
steps, exercise minutes, calories, symptoms, etc.
stoical statistics dutifully logged into tired devices
(a futile endeavor to control life)
Cacophonous news oozing from the Malverse
menacing memes ricochet around the planet
updates of a horrid war threatening to devour the world
(a looming nuclear apocalypse)
Occupying space in old unedifying edifices gathering dark energy
running out the accelerating clock as civilization nears its breaking point
desperately seeking diversion while doling out doggerel
(a quest to imbue a desolate existence with meaning)
How long before it all falls apart?
Categories:
stoical, anxiety, dark, society, war,
Form:
Free verse
THE SNOW and coarse wind both plunge down over oceans
Unbound and unmeasured by obstinate sailors
Who drift while confronting ungrappled emotions
Like obdurate petrels and stoical whalers.
Imprisoned ashore on a cliff is the mourner
Whose wings have been severed by devious captors;
He peers through the mist as he hides in his corner:
How blithe is Life’s book, but how sad is his chapter!
Condemned to uncover eternity’s cryptic
And coveted secrets, he ponders the vastness
Of solitude cloaking a recondite, mystic
Philosophy hidden with infinite deftness.
The high-soaring tower which serves as his prison
Stands firm by the mountains’ impassable summits;
Escape though he might, how unfit is this season
Of menacing gales where the precipice plummets!
Beset by despair is this desolate being
Who once wished to flee his old life’s empty guises;
How downcast was he to find out, upon fleeing,
That loneness and death were his only surprises!
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Categories:
stoical, angel, death, life, mountains,
Form:
Rhyme
Cirque Calder Family
Lonely this
My restless paint blobs
Absorbing precious air
Risking dehydration
Moisture deprived patience
Waiting atop my platform
Resting precariously upon cut wire
And tapered metal sheets
Awaiting tomorrow's work load
Master catnaps
Sprawled beside more wire and metal sheets
While real cat
Possesses Master's bedding
Her throne
Her mattress
All around
Bright colors crave daybreak
As studio fans drift their meager air
Turning delicate shapes meekly
Their kinetic fulcrums never idle
Other imaginings stand stoical in ring two
While ring one and three
Await trapeze figures
String ropes adrift
Large nocturnal mobiles
Idle patiently
Reflecting unfinished Big Top pieces
Table and floor installations
Galleries waiting
Catching moonlight
Wall doodles and sketches
Tarry further inspiration
Like my inspiration
The indubitable smell
Texture
Emotion
Only my paint dapples
Smeared on his faithful
Monsieur Palette can provide
Of course
Beside me
Always beside me
Tireless Pinch Nose
Holds I'm fay
Tough guy
Pliered twisting and crunching
Bent on convincing me
We're just tools
Says he
Not so
Says the Master
You're part of family
And so it goes
Brief respites
While imagination
Envisions its next
To be
Illusory reality
Remaining child-like
Understanding little of rest
A catnap?
Maybe
Categories:
stoical, art,
Form:
Free verse
Sonnet for a Pair of Egyptian Geese
Across the icy pond through chilly haze
Bewildered but yet with a stoical bearing
This couple, never parted, wistfully gaze
Can this be the exotic land forebears had their dwelling?
Atavistic dreams where great river and desert meet
And arid sand is transformed to verdant garden
There dhows of timeless design skim neath silken sheet
While Sphinx looks on with inscrutable visage spartan
But when Spring warms air and water and this land is greening
Will they be reassured, there's no need to roam
When all winged life is fluttering, dancing and preening
See these waters as not alien but truly their home
Irony and pun prompt the poet to write with wry smile
'Our dear feathered couple live blissfully - in denial'
Categories:
stoical, love, nature,
Form:
Sonnet