Best Straggled Poems


HER

In the midst of a wet night,
Discovered myself upon a viaduct.
Straggled or vagrant, uncertain.
Not petrified by the dark, rumbling sky,
Amazed to find the place familiar.

I perceived the faintest advancing steps,
On turning back, delighted with her presence.
The cold, shivering breeze, 
Waved her black long hair.
I insisted not to blink.

She ambled,
At my fore now, only whispered.
I apologize greatly, for concealment, for eons.
I was denied your presence: a shadow's grace.
Only welcoming death set my soul free.

Fate unveiled its script,
Offering me a last goodbye.
Imparting my truth before the noose claims me.
My world knows no dawn since....
Now gone, shine bright, bring me dawn once more.

Conveying my farewell,
I plunged into the water.
Bewildered-reincarnated.
Faced....
My damp eyes.
© Tapan Nath  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Two Hawaiians, a Sunset and a Memory

Two Aloha-shirted Hawaiians 
of generous girth were strumming 
their ukuleles 
on a small stage in front of the hotel’s poolside bar
in the late afternoon, 
rehearsing for the night’s performance. 
It must have been the low season,
as both bar and pool were deserted. 
and the singer, unburdened 
by a leis-laden audience’s 
Mai Tai-soaked expectations,
was going through a mele 
as if trying it on for size,
his voice loose-limbed with an easy grace.

Wrapped in the ukuleles' lolling strains,  	
his falsetto notes tumbled out into an 
uncongested airspace,
where no ceiling formed by small talk, disjointed laughter 
or tinkling glasses impeded their progress,
so they unfurled their wings, 
lifted themselves into the hibiscus-brushed breeze,
and climbed,
hopscotching and frolicking on their ascent,
skipping from Tiki torch to treetop to balcony.
Some straggled, loitered on windowsills.
Some, afraid of heights, fluttered back down  
to rest on top of beach umbrellas 
next to shadows of palm fronds. 
Still others hang-glided out over the sand 
and the lapis water,
lured by the marigold light.

So that, when they alighted on my 
hotel room balcony ten floors above, 
they were fragments,
excerpted by the intervening air  
from the upflowing cascade into 
a broken yet voluptuous murmur,
a soft, lilting South Seas benediction 
floating around my head.

I’d just sat down in the balcony chair, alone, 
my wife being inside the room busying herself 
with the correct placement of luggage 
after we’d checked in.

And so it was that I found myself looking out 
at the beginnings of a sky-painting Maui sunset 
accompanied by air that quietly sang.

Maybe it was my senses unwinding 
after the bustle of the journey, 
or maybe it was simply that I was caught unawares, 
but the feeling of contentment, 
the almost Zen-like awareness of the here and now,  
that overcame me at that moment was something 
no convergence of sights and sounds 
has been able to reproduce in the 20 years since.

It was, to be sure, an experience I’d paid more than 
a negligible amount of money for.

The irony is that it was the first time 
I truly understood the simplicity of happiness.

Mahalo.

Premium Member February 12, 2017

A murder of crows straggled 
across the grey February sky
with light snow slowly falling
blanketing the world in untracked 
silence, until we crossed coyote
tracks setting off Xena’s baying.
Back home, after breakfast and 
coffee, I fired up the laptop to
pink flamingos before blue water,  
Windows 10’s screen of the day.


Premium Member A Remembrance Day Poem

Christ and the Soldier by Siegfried Sassoon (1916)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7OEnXw7P60


The straggled soldier halted and clumsily went down  "O blessed crucifix, I'm beat !"
Christ still sentried by a seraphim between two splintered trees did speak  
"My son, behold these hands and feet."The soldier eyed him upwardas he muttered, "Wounds like these, Would shift a bloke to Blighty just a treat !" 
Christ, gazing downward grieving and ungrim, Whispered, 
"I made for you the mysteries,  beyond all battles moves the Paraclete."
The soldier chucked his rifle in the dust, slipped his pack, wiped his neck, then said -- "O Christ Almighty, stop this bleeding fight !"Above that hill the sky was stained like rust With smoke. In sullen daybreak flaring red, the guns were thundering and the soldier cried, 
"I was born full of lust,hungry and thirsty, with a wishfulness to wed. Who cares today if I done wrong or right?" Christ asked , "Can you not trust  my word?  Am I not resurrection, life and light ?"
Machine-guns rattled from below,  high bullets flicked and whistled through the leaves; smoke came drifting from exploding shells. 
Christ said  "Believe and I can cleanse your ill. I have not died in vain between two thieves; Nor made a fruitless gift of miracles." 
"A bird lit onto Christ. a breeze came to pass and shook the ripening corn
 A Red Cross waggon bumped along the track "Lord Jesus, ain't you got no more to say ?" He bowed his head with a crown full of thorns, as the soldier shifted, then stumbled on his way. 
"O God," he groaned,"why was I ever born ?". The battle boomed, and no reply came back. 
Posted by kipper at 14:22

Sumerian Recipes

OUR MASGOUF

The fishes have high wings, but they can feel our deep pain like sisters. Yes, we are the fishes’  brothers and any halo you may see in the dark night is a birthday of this brotherhood. Come here and see the seeds of this earth in an ancient Sumerian tablet, which its recipes were shining as the sun. In that Iraqi mud, you can see the smoke of our Masgouf and you may smell its exciting flavor. It is residing in our dreams like the moon, and we delightedly disappear in its perfume with the butterflies. The face of our Masgouf is pure, and I will be so happy if you can see its chants dancing as fairies at their small riverbanks.



THE MAGIC DOLMA

The small girls in our gardens knew nothing about the flowers or their breathtaking colors, but they are so efficient in making of magic Dolma. In the morning they meet a green dove, and listen to her chants. They are soft and pure exactly as our Dolma’s smiles. She teaches our girls the art of Dolma and the secret of grape’s leaves with a smooth voice and gentle hands. This Dolma’s master is so soft and deep, and she can color the girls’ hearts with the wedding dresses.

THE KEBAB GLORY

The Iraqis can’t live without war or Kebab, and can’t smell the morning breeze without their deep voices. Our souls were kneaded with the sad Kebab’s Sumac and the tears of war. Our dreams had immersed in the Kebab’s perfume and straggled in the desert of sad Sumac. Yes, you need the Iraqi sad smiles to find the Kebab’s sublime glory.

Companion

Companion.
Comparable, compassionate compatibility.
Committal, compound or common availability.
Glorification panoistic or repudiation ability. 
Inattentive, inappreciable, impudent cruelity.
Repletion straggled and monolith joky stability. 
Licentious, monolatry rendering ostensibility.


Premium Member Snow Cutting 63

I’ve
climbed the highest ladder
repaired frost damaged stone slab roof,
sat on top of telegraph poles
digging snow on Daughton heights
metamorphosis into maturity, was this proof?

I’ve
froze in seventeen degrees of frost
my spade glistening in winter’s feeble sun,
trespassed in mantles of unsoiled splendour
placed each doubtful step in trepidation
an enterprise into humanity, begun?

I’ve
straggled the coping stones of Eastby
probing for living fleece and her offspring,
trudged many inhospitable moor
where crow or robin dare not fly
only the composed in artic harmony, sing?

I’ve
slipped the rigorous reigns of commotion
spent hours working sun drenched drift,
lived the high sanctity of God’s work
Appletreewick, Kettlewell and beyond
amidst his fame, submerged in his precious gift?

I’ve
deemed all this an accomplishment
simple fare to many a humankind,
to rove the newness of fallen snow
the first imprint honest and profound
a silent lifting, of a conscious mind?

© Harry J Horsman  2001

Sacre

Stings of sharp coldness
and side aches were the last 
of her worries 

Her broken toes straggled uselessy 

Branch after twigs clawed aboust her

Sharp rocks and stickers no longer
made a difference 

She ran no matter what 

Blood rushing from her head 
made her delusional 

Her head was bleeding 

She felt as she was running 
in circles 

Dark as midnight 

She was blind running for her life

She heard a sharp whoosh

Felt the impact

Her bloody head betrayed 
by her executioner fell to 
the use less ground 
as she

Russet Red Vision At the Edge of the Green Creek

Scabbard symbol enchanted flowers opal potion milky skin
Gold-embroidered  purple  robe , green eyes flashing stars.
Beautiful faintly beeswax smell in  village meadow chamber
Horse's necklace "clack! clack! clack" sleek coat bobbed tail.
Velvet  lined  rose queen , green tree snake salty evening air
Tea tree branch , topiary mazes ,  old Kingdom noonday sun.
Fresh  dawn ,  wood  ash ,  surrounding  woods,  veil  of mist
Twisting  and turning , sliding  and re-arranging  themselves
slender fingers pulled the needle back and forth on the loom
Nuzzling  against his face an eager lip/nostril  whiffling noise 
Ice  crystals  etched along  its blade felt  the glow of his spirit 
took a deep breath voice tiny siver bell with a high sweet note. 
Brightly  wrapped box  he suddenly smiled a number of times 
Wispy  tendrils of red curls straggled free of their satin ribbon
She paused to feed a thread of scarlet  into the pattern of blue.
They continued up the hill , beyond the ridge they saw the King
riding , his amber-coloured stallion charged ahead of his men
at the edge of the creek , green with ferns and rich moist moss.

Premium Member Suspicion Fell On the Butler

*Image of Suspicion & Doubt by Pixabay.

Suspicion Fell on the Butler

'Twas a murky damp eve at the big house,
A frightening hallway clock tolls troll-less,
Hark the wayward butler a standard louse,
I glanced via the house he's gone I guess.

You're confident you've dug in everywhere,
Every nook and cranny cracks in the fence,
All we found were pipes but he is nowhere,
The shadiness of mistrust emerged dense,

He yelled at Mr. Cheevers, the louse claim,
He saw nothing he know nothing came up,
And shortly haunting tolling trolls proclaim,
Straggled Suspicion fell on the Butler, yup!

2022 July 25
*2nd Place*
One In Five 2
~~Joseph May: Judged 2022 July 29
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Squirrel In the Yard Ii

the squirrel in the yard has seen me
give up my worms to the dirt
only to feed the birds, and in turn
hear the chirps of more nightingales
the sickening chirps of january, 
the monotonous wails of january

on the fence, the straggled hair
still holds onto barbed wire
and sets off the alarm each morning
for my forest tent caterpillar
awaiting an older ant from its colony,
to its home
crawling across broken shards of 
my cognitive window
before it wasn’t cocooned,
but instead glass-blown into
incognito

but I can only trudge tiredly to my window 
and watch through, not lace, but black-out curtains
the crowns of thorns on all the gods
that walk up to my porch,
step on tomatoes, and eat my leaves
without reading their veins,
claiming they know the trees—
but never knew they’re poison

not unlike the jars of jam in a wicker basket
fermented in that Wiccan casket
from 2004
that still float up and down
my backyard stream, under my bridge
that hasn’t been repaired
only an engraved scratch
only an entombed epitaph

the squirrel in the yard 
has hidden his acorns in me
through the one-way window
only he can see
my remaining worms will curl around them
holding onto something foreign
and the squirrel,
with his empty eyes,
will never eat again

Premium Member Pastoral

By the shore, with effortless strokes, he paddled.
On the bank, a pasture with holstein cattle -
Sitting there, up high on the wooden seat, he
        lazily dabbled.

Softly crept the coyote, prepped for battle.
Warmed by sun, a little one lagged to tackle
dandelions, all nestled in the clover,
        grazing and addled.

Overhead, a mockingbird spied the rabble,
saw the calf who from the herd had now straggled.
Shrieking then, she dived at the rascal, oh so
        noisily tattled.

----------

Haven't tried a sapphic stanza before - pretty picky placement of feet
in a 4-line stanza. Not sure this hits very well, but as always, try
and try again!

Trochee, trochee, dactyl, trochee, trochee (3x)
Dactyl, trochee
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.

Afterlife In Anguished

Morning meditation 
With mission and vision 
To understand nature 
And Nurtured my being,
Morning breeze blew
My mind to surmised 

Darkened, smudged, 
Blurred to the darkness realm,
Merciful Messiah turn merciless..
And Cursed the sinful souls..
Deep to the depth of hell, 
Anguished and torment 
gnashing of teeth without tears 

Extreme agony..
Ceaseless clamor..
Solace straggled..
Scorched and sting..
With venom without remedy....
Wretched..
Endless...
Dead cease to exist...

Soundless but still called....
Messiah!
Messiah!!
Messiah is merciless to the sinful soul..
The Pit pitiless, devil's damned...
Suffering without solution 
Unbearable pains without end.. 
Afterlife in anguished....

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Reflection on the Important Things

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter