Best Succour Poems
Sit with me.
Sit with me, ragged feral,
do not be afraid,
fight for no space uncertain,
you will be soothed, you will be safe,
you only need sit with me.
Walk with me.
Walk with me, stray mongrel,
do not remain unwanted,
contest no feeding rights,
you will be fed, you will be warm,
you only need walk with me.
Speak with me.
Speak with me, forgotten pariah,
do not languish discarded,
fear no further shame,
you will be heard, you will be seen,
you only need speak with me.
Lie with me.
Lie with me, downcast woman,
do not spiral into the abyss,
hold no omnipotent hurt,
you will be held, you will be loved,
you only need lie with me.
Stay with me.
Stay with me, you disaffected,
I will nurture the love
and banish the woe,
for an angel of succour told me
that a little kindness never hurts.
27th November 2018
Written for ‘A Little Kindness Never Hurts’ poetry contest,
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri
Cuckoos hushed, rambling vines and plight.
Hordes of birch, beech, pine, spruce and oak.
Choke of darkness, forcing midnight.
Wax and breadcrumbs children-ditched folks.
Hordes of birch, beech, pine, spruce and oak.
Hansel and Gretel, frightened, twitch
Wax and breadcrumbs. Children-ditched folks -
Woodcutter built house for a witch.
Hansel and Gretel, frightened twitch
Of laced-up fingers spot the
Woodcutter-built-house for a witch.
Tasty-sweet, they eat what they see.
Of laced-up fingers, spot the
Craving, clinging to witch’s house.
Tasty-sweet, they eat what they see.
An hungry old woman they rouse.
Craving, clinging to witch’s house,
Sticky-mess invited in by
An hungry old woman. They rouse
Her wrinkles and warts. The bat lies.
Sticky-mess invited in by
Deception. It’s not a love-in.
Her wrinkles and warts - The bat lies
In wait to bake in the oven.
Deception. It’s not a love-in
Handing the pan, asking succour.
Why wait to bake in the oven?!
Tries to fool girl. Wants to bake her.
Handing the pan, asking succour.
In 1940’s, the earthface fell pale.
Tries to fool girl. Wants to bake her.
Grimm’s prophecy no fairytale.
In 1940’s, the earthface fell pale,
Choke of darkness, forcing midnight.
Grimm’s prophecy no fairytale.
Cuckoos hushed, rambling vines and plight.
1/23/2021
Proud Pantoum
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
A period of youthful vim ferments
as coruscating golden flecks in eyes
that mesmerise and tantalise, give rise
to secrets in my breast to stir, foment.
The xanthous tresses that cascade torment.
My eager and impressionable sighs
that echo every pirouette and pliés,
a fleeting intercession of lament.
A maverick when it comes to amour
and quintessentially a rakish cad.
Unrequited love longstanding rancour,
but finally become your paramour.
An enigmatic smile ever so sad;
your broken heart I gladly give succour.
The trill under the
morning star
rings out a gusto
and vivacious song.
Oh! Sweet merle your irrepressible melody
defies all that is logic, the chill piercing morning
still only an infant, barely the time
to receive the accolades of sunrise.
Yet here lays the deepest frost
a cold front that sleeps not
driven upon a tempest,
from the ice continent
across the Southern Ocean,
does not discourage
you, your performance
bequeath daily, a spirit
of freedom, played out
to an enkindle audience.
Your act of unique tenderness,
drifts along to all that would listen,
a gift-wrapped sonata, in this,
a night shift world.
Each morning
gently you
succour nature
from her temporal
sleep, akin to the lone
Bugler at his post
your reveille to
each brand-new day.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Aren't many or any finer than Dan me ol mucker & china who now looks out for nightmare cooks or crooks making money off the books with rare meat on dirty hooks in filthy nooks but don't care want to give him a shiner for saying don't be hasty or cheat prepare pukka tasty tucker & succour...safe fayre to eat for every diner...
Owners booming hysteria at inspector criteria
Kitchens so unclean like a war scene in Liberia
Zooming in you find they're grooming Listeria
Rightly fuming that it is blooming like wisteria
Hardly stellar told fella to have old mortadella
Rank covered in dank mould stank in the cellar
Dan who's a fan of Paul Weller is a fortune teller
Scores on doors stop more spores of Salmonella
Suss some are no faff or fuss a them & us schism
Despairing whiners cuss not caring about criticism
Cleanliness next to Godliness just an anachronism
Foolish witticism as diners get ghoulish botulism
Out of date food they buy deny do things on the fly
Just comply no treason and here’s the reason why
If duff stuff you season on the sly to try and get by
The Council’s the fall guy as folks do die from Ecoli
Hunch lunch or brunch scare dodgy ware of tupper
Owners get shirty but it’s so dirty can’t serve supper
Ask my man Dan this is not a masterplan to scupper
A public sector inspector would rather have a cuppa
Standing at the church awaiting his bride,
‘twas meant to be the best day of his life;
When she arrives, she is not by his side.
His bitter tears he can no longer hide,
grieving for the one due to be his wife.
Standing at the church awaiting his bride
The coffin appears; her body inside,
She couldn’t be saved; the cancer was rife.
When she arrives, she is not by his side.
Looking to heaven, he prays God will guide,
giving him succour, at this time of strife.
Standing at the church awaiting his bride,
If she could see him she’d be full of pride;
they will meet again in the afterlife.
When she arrives, she is not by his side,
In his memory she’ll always reside.
his heart is broken; pain cuts like a knife.
Standing at the church awaiting his bride;
when she arrives, she is not by his side.
Contest - Shadow Hamilton – Villanelle’s and Terzanelle’s Only
My first attempt at Villanelle form
11th June 2105
( On backdrop of current JAPAN tragedy.
Dedicated to all who lost lives and property in worst devastation ever.
Our sincere prayers for their salvation, succour to surviving victims, early rehabilitation)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Fukushima
Nuclear destination, bombing and self-explosion
Human rant, God is just name for chant
Reign human invention, HE just mythological sovereign
God disliked apathy, shelved sympathy
thought to teach lesson, venue selected Japan
Quake, Tsunami, Fire, Radioactive leak, wreck plenty
65 seconds flat, venue littered with death float
Humans abuse Nature, expect HIM to spare, care
HIS justice, a show reality sans court, hearing or attorney
HE delivers salvation to devastation, superpower to roadside pauper
Avoid HIS wrath, stick to HIS rules, HE not Human actually rules
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hitendra Mehta
March 2011
For Members Contest – The Rhyme Inside by Debbie Guzzi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Still the creed:
That serves you salt not from tears,
That decorates you not with fakes,
That builds you castle not in the air,
Quenches your thirst not with mirage-
Buoyancy that keeps you afloat,
Oasis from which you forever fetch-
Love is still the creed.
Still the creed:
That gives you edge to triumph,
And buys you admiration far and near,
And stands by you in battle field
Provides you succour in distress,
Bliss like sleep,sleep like slumber;
Quoted price on paradise share-
Truth is the creed.
Still the creed:
Shield from worldly trauma
Visor against its deadly sword
Spring of honour and laurel;
Moon shines at work in the night,
Sun shines at work in the day,
Man shines by the work he does-
Work is still the creed.
Still they are the creeds:
Work,truth and love.
23rd Nov,2014.
The eminent breeze slips through the trees,
multitudes of scrawny fingers guided by stout limbs,
conducts the aria.
the trill of daybreak
whilst the morning star shines bright
the moon on the wane
Oh! Sweet Merle your irrepressible melody defies all that is logic,
one understands these balmy mornings of summer, yet deepest frost
wailing winds from the Southern Ocean does not discourage your
daily performance.
each ceaseless morning
nature succour from her sleep
stands the lone bugler
© Harry J Horsman 2020
transmogrify
once upon a time
one knew how to begin
the state of the day dream,
by removing the mind,
shedding the every day
paraphernalia, then escaping
into a realm just
above the physical
wishes were formed
refined into possibilities.
great words were put together
fashioning unforgettable thoughts
ideas. solve the world,
feed the hungry, succour the afflicted
find lasting love
with someone who understands.
that was once upon time
when youth invaded every corner
of life with depth of
time. now it has shrunk
crept away unnoticed into
the place of things forgotten.
reverie of age has become,
into this wandering mind-time
now the escape does
not require active initiation.
it flows without boundaries
between here, now, and then.
the shape has changed from
slightly tenuous but graspable
to muzzy melted cotton candy
clouds sweet but impossible
to construct. depth is lost
with the passage of time
the betrayer of all day dreams.
presently lay down,
surrounded by personnel myths
slowly, gently transmogrify
into whom you have always been.
A Grisly Tapeworm
In Anger and in Hatred, a Tapeworm I see
Unless internally hosted, its Life will not be.
From egg it starts Life, ‘fore an adult worm
Fed on Host’s blood, it gains a portly form.
While finer or fatter, greedy Worm gnaws,
The wretched Host, pale and thin he grows.
Then the anaemic Host, too ill to live a day
Falls in the dark pit, where there’s no ray!
*
The same story is true of a Man with Hate
Hate soon embraced, is an iniquitous mate.
So, I avidly learned , my temper to narrow
Perspective being that it eats man’s marrow.
To nurture it in Heart, Hate will grow so big
And wiggle one’s Dignity; like a tail of a pig!
For, Anger grows so fat that Man is in sorrow
By eating all his vim to leave a man hollow!
*
To internalise Hate is to eat a sharp blade
That curves from inside while fast you fade.
It spins some mortal blow in its incisive poise
That fates and finishes by its hushed noise:
The structure curves in, trusses cut and gone
He falls on the floor with not a single bone!
*
Hearken ye therefore, Hate begets dearth
Piety Mad Haters who know no inner mirth!
For, to lavish in Love, denigrating foolish Hate
Bestows inner Peace or sense of pure sate.
Gimme not filthy wealth, gimme not lucre
I’m a happy man giving Love and Succour!!
JM
31st Oct’ 2013
Once a boy loved a girl,
She asked for a red rose,
When winter snow did twirl,
And all the flowers froze,
Where could he find a rose?
A nightingale did hear,
Of his deep love for her,
She wished to help him here,
To assist and succour,
Where could she find a rose?
She went to a rose plant,
And asked for its flower,
It said, "Mine's white, I can't
Make it red by power."
Where to find a red rose?
She went to another
And asked for a red rose
"My plant has no other
Red rose which finely grows.
It's winter, no red rose."
"But there is one sad way,
By which you can get one,
You must do as I say,
And then it could be done,
The way to a red rose."
The nightingale did sing,
Her heart pressed on a thorn,
Unmindful of the sting,
Till a red rose was born,
A crimson blood-red rose,
The moon looked down in awe,
As the nightingale sang
Of deepest passion raw,
The air around her rang,
With the birth of a rose,
With her own blood she made
A ruby rose for love,
Her voice began to fade,
But her song rang above
The scarlet passion rose,
The nightingale lay dead
With the thorn in her heart,
The ruddy rose blushed red,
When plucked for his sweetheart,
That nightingale's blood rose,
The boy gave it to her,
"Will you now dance with me?"
But she said, "I prefer
Jewels to flowers free."
The boy threw that red rose.
The nightingale was dead
For she believed in love,
But the boy simply said,
"Love - nothing does it prove."
A cart trampled the rose.
A beautiful red rose,
That took one life to make,
The nightingale's love throes
Lay there crushed in heartbreak,
The thorn had pierced the rose.
07.08.2020
6 syllables per line
Inspired by the short story, "The nightingale and the rose " by Oscar Wilde.
When the Lord gives His bountiful blessings, the least one can do is be grateful..
An afterlife in heavenly abode awarded
Based on Biblical born-again experience
Christian choruses in choral cadence
Days of delight by delving deep in doctrines
Enriching encounters that encourage me
Friends forever and familial functions
Godly guidance and grand gestures of grace
Helpful homely ambience that holds me up
Insightful intelligent interpretation of images
Joyfulness found with a Just Judge
Keen kinship with the King of Kings
Limitless love of the Lion and the Lamb
Matchless Master's mystical mercies on me
New life necessarily found on the narrow road
Oasis of overflowing opportunities
Pleasant promises on this pilgrimage path
Quiver of qualitative quiescence
Remembrance of Royal righteousness
Succour in the Saviour's sweet snuggles
Tireless teamwork and thankful testimonies
Unswerving unblemished utensil of usefulness
Victorious vessel of value and valour
Watchful warrior with the Word as a weapon
Xtremely xenial with xpectation of xquisiteness
Yearnings of yesterdays and Yuletides
Zealous zest to reach Zion's zenith.
07.15.2020
"The blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich, and He addeth no sorrow with it." - Proverbs 10:22
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ." - Ephesians 1:3
The swell and surge of surf
whispers tinnitus conched
on titanium sunken tankers
that rock restlessly on far reef,
as children play unheeded
building imagined bastions,
nursery rhymes drown
turning back cnut tides.
Inevitably,
sand shifts in an hourglass
that plumb the memory's depth
with rosy pictures in ruby flourescence
like monochrome holiday snaps
stored in old bashed biscuit tins
that mother would open on grey
overcast November soaked Sundays.
All oceans are drowned
by the sea's past dregs,as cerulean and cobalt waves
steer towards safe harbors,
tantalized by tinto tinted sunrises
like a rocking pendulum
that plays a metronome symphony,
playing lullabies, rhythms sound
when der holle rache sings
and the nocturnal queen echoes as the dawn breaks.
Translucently, ephemeral light
glistens on children's limbs,water singing as they play,
momentarily soaked in perfection
as delicate beams dance over their fragile bones.
Now amber-crafted moments, Capri's crimson breasts
waves, nestles close to succour infant swells.
Yet magenta lips pout in rock pools,
the breaking and wombing
of waters now birth new journeys
that drive towards a vortex rush.
Defiant boats chase, turning tides in lucent rays,
navigate between lava laced volcanic outcrops
into distant remembered horizons.
Denizen of abyssal labyrinth,
legendary ancient Wyrm seeks succour
within prodigious sepulchral cavern:
her domicile for an ageless lifetime.
Ethereal shafts cascade through ceiling's
stochastic rifts, piercing tenebrous tomb;
vicious viscous scarlet smears juxtapose
against shimmering iridescent scales.
Aeons past, Faustian pact formed with Man:
vow of harmonious co-existence
exchanged for fulgurant falchion forged in
the heart of dragonflame's conflagration.
Sacred covenant shattered this night by
myriad ironclad interlopers;
ruination's harbinger was strident
warrior wielding token of treaty.
Last vestiges of cacophonous roar
dissipate into the Stygian depths;
acrid stench of brimstone clogs the air as
remnants of vitriolic pyres linger.
Twin gargantuan fibrous wings contract
behind enormous muscular torso;
fulgurating talons sluggishly sheaved
as serpentine tail shudders and falls limp.
Priceless metals and prismatic gemstones
intersperse with charred and twisted corpses;
amongst detritus of mortal conflict,
majestic titan finally crumples.
Massive lurid yellow orbs exhibit
an unfathomable intelligence;
succumbing to the inevitable,
moribund colossus bows forlorn head.
Lifemate butchered by zealous paladin;
remains of final clutch just motes on breeze.
Burden borne by solitary relict:
regal behemoth was last of her kind...
----------------------------------------
(C) John C Michaels, 25th April 2017
Free verse, no meter, no rhymes - as per contest rules.
10 syllables on every line (howmanysyllables.com)
For the contest entitled "A Mythical Creature" sponsored by Julia Ward.