Best Sturdier Poems
Lacovia road
Here once the bambo trees
Dance like native girls
In native half-nakednesss
And farmers trudge a way
Not so long nor forbidding now
Along the banks where lizards lazed
A scampering of children
And trees are with sturdier concrete replaced.
The slant of rain obscures the dry of sun.
Lacovia road
I cannot tell which house you use to live
My old landmark
Of public standpipe is gone
And perhaps lovers
Meet in virtual space of idleness
Instead of where the gossip flowed
And fill the empty lives
With long leashes of control
Dripping from tireless tongues.
Lacovia road
And a fluttering dust of memory
Like paper littering the school yard
New mansions are strewn among the grass
Old cottages gone
Gone too the wattle and daub familiarity
Where we huddled out of the rain
And shared bammy and avocado
And old stories of Kujo crawling through the sugarcane
Among the crocodiles and in their skin
And the British fright to see the thing
Up like rabbit running for more than life
Lacovia road
And the big river still brims below
The old capital
Rearing for recognition without the mango trees
And shrimp sellers at the side of road
Without women burdened with cassava load
I long to smell the fry fish still
These stable buttress of the old economy
Replaced by the late coming
And harsh selection of a spindly modernity
Juxtaposed against a vast and ancient history
Of moments eternal.
Categories:
sturdier, places, old, old,
Form:
Free verse
Have we dreamt the crystal morn, this day of beauteous bones,
tinkling icicles which ping, as they melt, this sun warmed day.
Lilac boughs appear egg white dipped, now over-glazed, amazed,
in the mirror-like majesty of a frosty ice draped morn.
Tinkling icicles, which ping, as they melt, this sun warmed day
licked by children as they play, sliding on a virgin crust of white
in the mirror-like majesty of a frosty ice draped morn.
All that's innocent is clothed, encased, adorned in sturdier forms,
licked by children as they play, sliding on a virgin crust of white
the ice embraces every sunlit surface with auric glow.
All that's innocent is clothed, encased, adorned in sturdier forms
too soon the skeleton of night will melt within the heat day
The ice embraces every sunlit surface with auric glow.
Lilac boughs appear egg white dipped, now over-glazed, amazed.
Too soon, the skeleton of night will melt within the heat day.
Have we dreamt the crystal morn, this day of beauteous bones?
First appeared in Mused: The BellaOnline Literary Review Winter 2014
Categories:
sturdier, beauty,
Form:
Pantoum
Have we dreamt the crystal morn, this day of beauteous bones,
tinkling icicles which ping, as they melt, this sun warmed day.
Lilac boughs appear egg white dipped, now over-glazed, amazed,
in the mirror-like majesty of a frosty ice draped morn.
Tinkling icicles, which ping, as they melt, this sun warmed day
licked by children as they play, sliding on a virgin crust of white
in the mirror-like majesty of a frosty ice draped morn.
All that's innocent is clothed, encased, adorned in sturdier forms,
licked by children as they play, sliding on a virgin crust of white,
the ice embraces every sunlit surface with auric glow.
All that's innocent is clothed, encased, adorned in sturdier forms
too soon the skeleton of night will melt within the heat day
The ice embraces every sunlit surface with auric glow.
Lilac boughs appear egg white dipped, now over-glazed, amazed.
Too soon, the skeleton of night will melt within the heat day.
Have we dreamt the crystal morn, this day of beauteous bones?
First Published in Mused: The BellaOnline Literary Review January 2014
Categories:
sturdier, beautiful,
Form:
Pantoum
Now gather around, ye lusty lads, a tale I'll tell to thee
Of jealous Gods, monsters and ill-fated men who sailed the sea.
My tale is set in hoary times when fickle fate was by divine decree.
Then men were men who faced all odds, much sturdier than you or me.
It was the time when the Trozans fell, King Priam's pride was turned to dust,
Odysseus' ruse of Trozan Horse, made him of the God's accursed;
For Apollo's faith was crushed by heel of Grecian fleet,
And rape and pillage, with lust and greed, was rampant on the street
But fair Odysseus, with wanton fill, mindful of the weep and wail
With his Grecian hordes and a dozen ships to Ithaca did set sail
With hope-filled heart, with fair Penelope and Telemachus in mind
His course to fair Ithaca was charted and well and truly defined.
But fate, I did say, was most fickle-minded, and had deviously contrived
A fate which would try their grit and test how they fought, and survived.
And so the ships driven willy-nilly by the North Westers and South Easters
Drove them by predetermined chance to the Land of the Lotus Eaters.
The Lotus Eaters were a race which the world forgot in their drugged state
With food of the Nelumbo, of a species time forgot, but did their hunger sate,
And drugged their minds to exclusion of world, to family, and other cares.
Odysseus , abstinent was he,, dragged them back on board, with crew unawares.
Thence post-haste did the ships set sail and sighted fair isle with fatted cattle,
Fair game for stocking provisions, but first a Titan Cyclops they had to battle.
Odysseus, full of guile knew that force would lead to hapless naught,
So crept he in, midst cattle din, and there sleeping Polyphemus sought.
And there as the Cyclops soundly slept, blinded his eye, which was but one.
Polyphemus, Titan, unbeknownst to Odysseus, was Poseidon's beloved son.
With prideful boast Ithacan King, in derision his name did daringly decree.
Wild with rage, and dreadful pain, did Polyphemus call his father from the sea.
Deeply hurt at deceit and guile by which the Grecians blinded his offspring,
Poseidon did curse and said, " May stormy seas and whirly winds calamity bring"
So tossed about were the dozen ships, windblown and tossed on heaving seas.
With heavy heart and tired limb went they to Aeolus, the Wind God there to please.
~11 Jun 2016~
Categories:
sturdier, adventure, fantasy, myth, mythology,
Form:
Epic
Story of Afghanistan
The barren land of my birthplace
Green at times but screening a rocky face
Known for thousands of years for its warrior race
Let me tell you the truth,
No one really wanted this “space”.
Up until two lions began prying around
Initially, just fooling around
Afterwards, casting off their cannon sound
Resembling the 6th night of an infant’s fête
Building their castles, and so began the burial grounds.
The lions pledged to crush the other
With a master plan
Dividing the blood brothers
Such was the instruction of the queen mother
As the clans clashed and killed one another.
The chiefs were swallowed by the promise of gold
The mullahs were swapped for the hollow soul
The seniors by the fire recounted and foretold
The purpose for the lion’s vehemence
This story definitely in time will unfold.
The old grew timeworn
Waiting for their young ones to return home
The teenagers free born
Screamed out of their mosques’ domes
Come and join us in this struggle
Faced with the crusaders of the Church of Rome,
But little did they know,
No one will return but the maimed men to a funeral home.
The sturdier lion won the combat
But what has become of my Afghanistan
The wolf in a sheep’s disguise
Has spoiled my jade paradise
My heart denies it but I may have bombed my youthful chums,
This is now a global land-dwelling for bums and slums!
The lion wishes to be unveiled this time
So he promises to take the last dime
After all it pays to cooperate in war crimes!
He roars in a deafening cry
I bring Democracy to this land
With loads of cash in one hand
A whip in the back hand--forgetting the long years of perfidy
I now declare and demand
This is the new Promised Land.
A woman of this realm is exposed with a promise
She is liberated by democracy
Famous on national publications like the story of Pocahontas
She’s affirmed independent and agreed to arise out of the darkness
As the saga is read to the United States Congress
She exhales
And anticipates the lion’s hunger
Waiting for the day when she will be veiled, unveiled, and then veiled again
Not by ordinary men
But by inscription of law.
Thank you for sealing the decree!
Categories:
sturdier, age, animal, beautiful, best
Form:
Epic
"I am better off healed than I ever was unbroken."
Beth Moore
I thought I was as fragile as a gossamer web
woven by a spider spinning exquisite silk.
My tears were polished pearls of morning dew,
nourishing flowers before they could wilt.
But I am not cut from the cloth of that ilk,
and salty streams I cry would wither their petals.
When love was lost, I did not break
for I am made of much sturdier mettle.
Although my heart was filled with aching,
courageously it refused to surrender to death.
I took shallow breaths, afraid it was breaking,
but found that I was still whole and intact.
The fracture merely scratched my surface,
making a dent. My countenance rent, not torn.
I did not shatter from the impact, but arose,
reborn and refreshed from slumbering remorse.
No longer are there dark corners in my heart.
I forgave him for harsh words once spoken.
My fortitude is stronger than I ever thought.
Sadness and misery are fading memories
of a relationship no longer controlling my life.
From depths of disparage, I've finally awoken.
Life's loose threads have been snipped
and the frayed edges of rejection were clipped.
When I look in a mirror I am wearing a smile,
pleased with my unbroken reflection.
Categories:
sturdier, courage, emotions, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
1
It was the final day at the city -
The Circus prepared for a grand show,
Men gathered in packs and sat
On the chairs in the rows.
Even the Chief Magistrate,
Came to see the show;
With hundreds of police
In tow.
All the Circus animals
Were being dressed up,
All the props were ready -
A ladder, a stick, a rope and even a cup!
And among all the people of the Circus
Were the two, hand in hand.
Husband and Wife, trapeze acrobats,
Listening to the incoming band.
It was their fourth anniversary;
A very grand day indeed!
But of all was the fact that
This time, they had taken the lead.
2
Then, with the start of pleasant music
They, together entered the ring
And first bowed to the audience,
Then waited for the starting bell to ring.
Ding!Dong! Went the bell;
They together climbed up the ladder
And started their acrobat
And their confidence became sturdier.
Swinging with the ropes,
Performing acrobats both mild and brute,
Applause fell all around
As the mesmerised audience stood...
And, then the final trick came,
Where the Wife would jump in the air,
And the Husband would catch her by the arms,
The fascinated audience would stare.
But ALAS! Fate changed their life
And the Wife, in front of the town,
Suddenly had a heart failure
And she fell down without a sound.
Her life deserted her, from her mouth
Red blood gushed out
The whole audience was shocked
"Help her!!"All screamed aloud.
The ambulance, in a short while came
And she was taken away...
And everyone asked the other,
"What did the doctors say?"
3
And no one looked but after a long time
At the Husband, still hanging,
In mid-air, his body numb;
His vision was blurring.
And no one felt what he felt
And no one thought of his future -
"What is love?" - Nobody felt.
Isn't love like a tarnished metal?
It comes with full of lustre
And goes with a sorrow so bitter!
Categories:
sturdier, bereavement, death, goodbye, heartbroken,
Form:
Couplet
A manic man sits, evenly, confined, conscious, in his four cornered room. His cell phone
rings and violently vibrates! The terrible tone slashed and sliced the serene silence he had
been anticipating all afternoon. It was her! The one he was trying to ignore. He could feel
her presence, penetrating, trying to get through phone. “Why is she calling—why now?” He
pondered and mused. He began to curse the moment and what it had become. He felt his
body burst in to two and a ritualistic battle ensued, between two beings deep within his core.
One beseeches him to pick up the phone, while the other tells him no.
Then it rang again, even louder than before!! It made his temperature soar, his body
burned, and his hands began to sweat. He rubbed them on his khaki pants so hard, that his
legs nearly went numb. Not before long, his whole body was wet, with sweat, saturating his
clothes so he tore them off. Soaking wet, he reluctantly reached for the phone. It rang
again, even louder than the two before!!! He created a fist and put it through a wall.
His mind, stalled. He looked at her number, emblazoned on his phone, flashing like a
billboard—advertising lies, the same ones he’s seen and bought, over and over, a hundred
thousand times. He knew if he talked, his hell would remain the same, so he tried to stay
dry, and remain somewhat sane. As he waited for his vigilant voicemail to save the day, it
rang once again, much…much louder than before!!!! He covered his ears only to feel the
drums of war, beating, pounding, profoundly in his chest. The battle was long and his insides
raged on. He started to feel himself finally losing grip, of a stronger, sturdier, “A brand new
self!” But as the milliseconds ticked on, he found himself reverting back, to a weaker, worn-
out, “I can’t stand myself.” He had agreed that no matter how much he groaned—he was not
to pick up the phone! So he shouted, and then he screamed! Then another vicious ring
brought the man cascading to his knees.
All hope—gone, the battle—lost. With the white flag waved, he gave one last huff, and one
last puff and politely said “hello…”
Submitted for Rambling's "Act I, SceneI" contest.
Categories:
sturdier, angstbody,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The battle ground is smooth
and well-defined. Love is the defender.
Hate dies of its own neglect;
then when forcing its attack,
invokes the solemn rite
of stand your ground,
of casualty by friendly fire,
and of preemptive might.
Love's weapon is itself. Its arsenal
is peace to fight the demons of the wars.
Alas, it's not so popular at all.
Death and all the means we choose
to make it happen is the modus operandi
of the world, and we as western countrymen
and leaders of each blessed fray, will cheer.
Each year the marble halls of Washington
grow sturdier as we, the folks back home
affix our "yes" upon the bills
that buy the blazing guns of war.
But love is like that,
offering its kiss, and then
politely giving way to the invisible;
here it is non-entities like hate will enter,
whip-up the roaring crowd with cries
of conquest, then discretely step aside
into the void, leaving love to coalesce.
This is the true reality
that rides the wave of peace.
This is the only crown of victory,
the sole memorial of strife subdued.
Lift it high, for it must survive.
Love alone is Life!
~
Categories:
sturdier, character, , memorial, ,
Form:
Free verse
I wish
To demolish my sorrow…
I wish
To forget the despair and gleefully grow…
To forgive and seek the challenges of tomorrow…
My downfalls and my failures…
I wish
To disappear
I wish
I had no fear…
For God’s near…
I wish
I could be a cheetah in the grassland
I wish
To store all of my energy for an evening run…I’d never give up in the process
I wish
My whole spirit could simply sponge in God’s nature and make great progress
And I truly wish
I could stick to my daily plans of building a sturdier relationship with God
I wish
I had the merriness in my life especially during hardships…
My countless wishes
Brings me down to my weakest point…
My countless wishes
Overthrows me…but it helps me in the long run…
I wish I could forgive
My daily regrets and breakdowns
I wish I could forget
My despondency – embracing my frowns
I wish
To live a life without error
Without a care
I wish
To be flawless when I make my everyday decisions
And scare away
The darkness that tries to make me give up
I wish
I had more time to overcome…
These waves of emotions
My countless wishes
Brings me down to my disheartened state…
My countless wishes
Are like walls from every direction closing in on me…
But it’s a convenient tool in the future…
I wish
I could be live in someone else’s shoes…
But what good would it do?
Would it lead me to the narrow pathway?
Would it inspire me to push all of my doubts away?
Would it push away the blues?
Could He give me any clues?
Categories:
sturdier, angst, beauty, confusion, courage,
Form:
Citadel of wits and tricks
Who appears wimpish;
But your back is stronger
And harder than Olumo rock,
And the great walls of China;
Citadel of wits and tricks
Who staggers like a Kampf panzer,
Through thick and thin,
Rough and tough terrains unscathed
You who have no foundation,
But, your house is sturdier
Than Buckingham palace,
I salute you
You,
Whose legs are short
But covers miles without refueling...
You, who stump, trump, trample,
Hustle and bustle
Where the high and mighty
Fear to thread
I salute you
The day a swart of hungry crocodiles
Stumble on you,
Their knife-like fangs become obsolete
When a swarm of starving lions encounter you,
They go home angry and hungry
A black, insidious mamba
Retreats and recoil
When it confronts you
The day a stray elephant
Steps on you,
It looses balance
The panzer who cannot fire a cannon
But repels a thousand loose cannons
With it's impregnable back,
I salute you
Citadel of wisdom, wits and tricks
Whom our sacred African oracles rely on,
I salute you!
Categories:
sturdier, africa, animal, appreciation, hyperbole,
Form:
Ode
SHARING MY GREY HAIR
“About the Journey”
Lots of things happen in this life
That Gray hair is a symptom of.
Trust, they did not come cheaply.
And it does not prove me be wiser.
However, it does show evidence that
I have been forced to deal with change.
Not that I should bog you down with
What may have caused my grayness;
Yet, I intend to tell you, that
I survived plenty of daily and hourly
adversities.
Let us call them
“Gray hair, making moments”.
Grateful I am still, for life, sparing my life!
I have become more observant.
And more aware of death.
My gray hair has taught me
not wait for death;
Nor set any date.
But let death wait on me.
As I survive yet another blow.
I am yet stubborn and relentless;
But with each blow that it is not fatal.
I bargain with fate and have time again
To mingle with my youthful mind.
Mingling with my natural mind.
Inspires the co-mingling of my God mind!
As I recollect which of my gifts
I love the most, or;
Which experience has helped to build
A sturdier foundation of character?
I can now better prepare myself;
By acknowledging my shortcomings.
As I voyage clairvoyantly into my inner self;
I am a child again; Feeding upon the Pablum of
God’s expectations, A taste of the hereafter.
I pontificate upon my flaws and
carry on in correcting them.
So, with you, I share, “my gray hair”.
Categories:
sturdier, inspiration, journey, life, spiritual,
Form:
Blank verse
Being alive, feeling the bright sunshine and breathing new air,
as this New Year approaches is enough:
health, happiness and love matter...
Lord, strengthen my desire to live happily until my death!
I wish life were as wonderful as it was then,
without worries when time flew as free as a mockingbird;
now, standing on the threshold of hope I repent of my sin...
for having been too selfish and not eased anybody's load.
Why does regret leave its footprint as mine did?
And even though harm wasn't done to anyone,
I wished I had found the time and desire to have listened....
Lord, my blindness was the mirth of youth when all seasons seemed one!
I have seen drastic changes in me...calmer, moodier and more pensive;
and examining my conscience, I can admit some faults are sturdier than rope,
that they are a part of my character and as the old year is about to leave:
I extend to all Humanity my wish for peace while standing on the threshold of hope.
Written for Francine Roberts' contest,
" Happy New Year Contest "
12/31/2011
Categories:
sturdier, father, friendship, love, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
Like her name, so slender and lovely;
And I recall she smiled so prettily.
She was my aunt; born with a disease;
But took life like the summer breeze.
My best friend was her son, Jose,
Until suddenly he passed away.
I was seven; he was two;
And sunny days were all we knew.
The essence of youth was our Lillie of the valley;
A sturdier more delicate bloom never you see!
She only reached age of tender thirty four,
But her liveliness has become folklore!
In a far off playground, she taught me to swing;
And taught me to dance as an easterling;
And took me trick or treating for the first time,
When I was an illiterate mime.
She was laughter and much fun;
Nothing can outshine a rising sun;
Though never physically hardy,
She was the life in every party!
Categories:
sturdier, courage, family, flower, green,
Form:
Couplet
Fairies pirouette through the dew drops.
A duet of crickets fills the forest with a mist upon the lane.
Sunlight sprays sporadic patterns of light upon the trees.
The rhythm of spring jumps from trunk to trunk.
She passes this way daily
skipping between the pools of dew that lay themselves
bare upon the cobbled path.
What moment could more joyous be then this grove of magnolias?
Who’s love could be sturdier than the tree roots widening spread?
A subtle wind blows, knocking off her hat,
Leaves and twigs layer across the hat as it rolls to a stop.
The only question now: Hat? Or home without?
She had been warned, on nights dark with no stars to disrupt its grip,
NEVER LEAVE THE PATH!
The wind would blow around the house.
The fire would crackle.
And a shiver would trek its way up her spine.
Hat?
Or home without?
The fallout from home without a hat seemed much closer
than ghost stories told on a long distant night.
She dared to set one toe over the line dividing path and trees.
Then, jumping back, she waited for a storm to fall upon her.
She waited
and waited,
still and silent.
The twigs holding her hat in place
looked as if they would give out any moment.
She stepped full in to rescue her hat,
scurrying back to the path as quick as she could.
She cocked her head, then made a playful dash through the underbrush.
Whatever powers had lay here, were long departed.
Her parents’ words just a tale for school kids
who might wander off the path and lose their way.
Her sigh contained more than relief.
There was a touch of whimsical sadness
that the fairy tale was nothing but a tale after all.
Less magic in the world,
fairies disappearing into splashes of dandelions,
yet a flicker in the magnolia’s majestic bloom that might just be a fairy.
Categories:
sturdier, discrimination, fairy, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse