Best Such That Poems
While traveling ‘cross such harsh terrain
left parched and barren from the sun
and weeks without a cooling rain,
I saw a sight that left a stun
beside the road on this long run.
I stopped to have a closer look;
perhaps my vision had deceived
with image that my mind mistook
and merely something I perceived,
but I would never have believed.
Yet there a single flower bloomed
upon the dry and sun parched soil.
Impossible I had assumed
with harsh conditions to embroil;
to stay alive, how she must toil.
Her face shown fair in sun’s dry heat
magenta petals shining bright
appearing happy and upbeat
without a worry to incite,
and unaware of her dire plight.
I ponder how one could exist
in harsh conditions such that be
and thrive with little to assist,
yet ne’er for help to send a plea;
she seems to live her life carefree.
Perhaps we all should take a clue
from gentle flower’s look on life
ignoring hell we’re going through
with all its worry and its strife,
and all the bad with which it’s rife,
and focus on our gifts in life.
April 7, 2021
Poem of the Week - April 11, 2021
My poetry garden of late has lain untended and forlorn.
I succumbed to shock and dismay upon entering recently, for I observed that
great disagreement had erupted and now vehemently
raged among adjoining unmade weed-filled beds of subjects and verbs.
Modifiers that had been dutifully arranged and carefully
kept in check upon their trellises now dangled everywhere.
Sentences had spilled out of their beds in fragments or running
on and on while cases of subjectives and objectives shamelessly
intermingled and were now easily mistaken one for another.
Grammar, whose care I had entrusted to first, second and third
persons, lay in shameless disarray, as if no one could tell the difference.
Gerunds casually consorted with infinitives, many
of which had split. I recalled with a sigh how many years it had taken
me to tightly bind them. [To bind them tightly is what I meant.]
Commas were everywhere, rendering those in appropriate
position practically unrecognizable, which I suppose was better than
what had happened to the capitals, now completely ignored.
No reason for the rhyme with forms confused or misplaced altogether.
My lines, unpruned, were of disparate length and hideously incompl
An unfortunate mis-spell had been cast and provoked an infestation,
such that many of my friends had departed without comment.
The contest entry was blocked, so I bowed my head in shame,
turned around and shuffled silently through the exit marked N/A.
Posted July 24, 2014
'Let the Pens Flow - Narrative' Contest
Jenish Somadas
I flew to Olympus, to find its heart,
armour intact against Hades’ dark wrath.
At birth the power of light made its start
as Homer's ghost sent me upon my path!
Yet there I found only an empty throne
where once Zeus in glory firmly reigned.
So sad! For no lighted wisdom was shown,
such that grievous and blue, my heart was pained!
Thunder and lightning I didn’t yearn to find,
nor divine favours for eternal youth.
I wanted reassurance, peace of mind,
justice for all and no distorted truth.
At the foot of Olympus I sought love
but no compassion came down from above.
---------------------------------------------------------
Robert Lindley & Paul Callus ~ 21st November 2015
Chosen Poem Of The Day, 3rd December, 2015
As I ride the winding roads away from smothering waves of hypocrisy,
I cross the line into freedom through valleys, soft breeze and fluent rivers
Decorated with weathered rocks and bordered by empty picnic tables
The multi-colored mountains rise high above me, holding onto spatial snow,
Before it’s stolen by spring’s warmth with months of waiting to be seen again
Suddenly everything is so simple, like the wandering turkey, on patches of grass
Old railroad tracks remain in place through crevices of gray cliffs so narrow on edge
Birch trees cast shining white color in clusters on the side of the road in the sun
Waterfalls flow down the mountainside with an ‘energy’ some thrive to have,
In a world spinning with hatred amidst criticism that drains the depth of one’s soul
While all those ‘complaining’ hurl insults like balls of fire, fueling it more each day
Yes, hypocrisy has its twisted way
But, far into the fresh air of these mountains, so cleansing and peaceful to the mind,
There is no place for this kind of hypocrisy that twists, bends and projects, robust negativity
Such that those want to push onto others like a wave in which they believe will drown the truth
But, God allows for spaces to be found that some things he dislikes may never reach
Such as these mountains, this winding road, this fresh air to breathe all with no casted stones
Heidi Sands
4/9/21
I Am Mortal Man, Made Of Mere Flesh And Bone
Sad and lost soul walked in his old worn shoes,
dark clouds covered his bowed and forlorn head.
Life had beat him hard, made him pay heavy dues,
cast jagged stones into his every night's bed.
He looking back at all his dear family now gone,
his broken soul cried- God release me please.
I am mortal man, made of mere flesh and bone,
my every path hard, nothing comes with gentle ease
Yet the spirit was strong and his heart held dreams,
hope that another day would great blessings bring.
Each night's prayer he found new flowing streams,
such that morn's new light made his joy sing
As each day brought its bricks and falling stones,
Hope, his greatest shield, prevented any broken bones.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-15-2016
Dedicated to all my friends here that give me hope each day.
Hope that life will give future blessings and my family will
be well and safe when I am gone.
This day to celebrate the supreme sacrifice
of the ancient prophet Abraham
This day to ponder and reminisce
that divine substitution of Ismail for a ram!
This Quranic and biblical factual story
shall never diminish in its age-old glory
That superb reliance on and compliance with the will of God
eternally for man to learn from and applaud.
Upon his awesome trust in the unseen, let his kind marvel
and of submission, devotion to God bestow him a laurel
And now for the sake of mutual unity and festivity
first let all of humanity
release their doves of peace
and let them fly freely, unprovoked, unrestrained
with olive branches in their beaks
such that when angels who predicted
forever feuding humans
look down they see instead
6 billion or more two fingers up
in a huge mass of humanity
signalling for and meaning to keep the peace!
But mind you, world peace is to be everybody's goal
so let no one leave space for any loop-hole.
EID GREETINGS everybody.
Betrayed Expectations
(Sonnet)
I flew to Olympus, to find its heart
armor intact against Hades' dark wrath.
At birth the power of light made its start
as Homer's ghost sent me upon my path.
Yet there I found only an empty throne
where once Zeus in glory firmly reigned.
So sad! For no lighted wisdom was shown.
Such that grievous and blue, my heart was pained.
Thunder and lightning I didn’t yearn to find
Nor divine favors for eternal youth.
I wanted reassurance, peace of mind,
justice for all and no distorted truth.
At the foot of Olympus I sought love
but no compassion came down from above.
--------------------------------------------------
Robert Lindley & Paul Callus ~ 29TH November 2015
Note: It was a true pleasure collaborating with my friend
Paul Callus on this poem. His poetic advice and addition
both were top notch. And appreciated greatly was the
opportunity to learn from him.
You have my sincere thanks, my very talented poetic friend.
In Moonlight She Came, Her Dark Hair Did Shine
Now writing, romantic poem this night
fondly bringing forth memories of youth
Just tweaking to stir far greater delight
no real harm, love lives in passionate truth.
Summoned, thrills of ravishing beauty then
flowers await that first touch of glee
No darkness, no pains of living in sin
Just love, given with romantic hearts free.
In moonlight she came, her dark hair did shine
walking a wide trail between two palm trees
Her everything cried out just to be mine
and her gentle waves foretold pleasant seas.
Beach strolling , holding hands and eager hearts
moon's melody shown for budding new love
Such innocence, so often how it starts
stars in heaven looking down from above.
Years past, my heart longed for her to marry
soon I flew around the world to return
Knowing our love was now, must not tarry
in our souls deepest passion did so burn.
My wife shares our story to one and all
romance that carried her far, far away
We, married twelve sweet years this coming Fall
Depths of joy, such that no words can relay.
Robert J. Lindley, 5-12-2016
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 240
Note: Truth in the telling, I flew to Cebu Philippines and brought my wife to live in America twelve years ago this coming Fall..
Now with our nine year old son, we live in the arms of loving bliss.
CALIBER
The mental quality of spirits is unveiled.
Anne saw them in imagery.
They were in small shapes as a displayed mural.
A bust of lives demised with estate being conveyed as an inhabitant or the occupier.
Their capacity was that of full animation and stream.
Anne watched the mystical images that were once all men.
Their colors came as black, white, and olive.
Attuned to their surroundings, they did not alter their position on the wall.
They desire was to rectify a wrong.
Calibers are competent to their form in which Anne was not afraid of being forewarned.
Anne began to name them the ones that she saw.
The black one was called Magic because he was the leader of them all.
There were two level of white men seated by rows.
Anne named them Parchment because of their lab coats.
The olive one was called Mixed-Blood.
Stature they formed with ability to construct.
The degree of their mental capacity paraded the capability of the physical you being possessed.
Might they enter via an oval of the body?
They haunted this house to influence cognizance.
Anne’s knowledge is such that she may not be aware of their existence from where they exist.
Ignorance is the perception Anne lived in.
Anne and her family moved from this house in her seventh year.
She saw their presence first when she was four.
Once Anne and her family left, she did not see them anymore.
Anne moved on Briesch when she was an infant.
She never spoke of what she saw until she relocated.
Anne’s mother stated that a veil was over her eyes, a pall of despair trying to develop premonition.
Caliber is a degree of mental capacity or moral quality.
Anne cultivated this identity.
_________________________________________|
Penned February 17, 2014!
For Anne Currin Contest Any Poem/Any Subject!
You taught me how a mortal should live
And this I value more than what Kings give,
Your meek gait from the church into the grave
Such long-lasting wisdom and inspiration gave.
You read the Scripture under the noontime shade
And this taught me lasting lessons that will never fade,
That hope is dead that comes not from the Savior above
And that the rest men seek in vain until they seek his love.
Had you left behind colossal measures of gold
Such that all before me unrequested bowed,
Vain I would grow and think everyone stunk
And treat my fellow men like unwanted junk.
But kind heavens loved your darling kid
And something greater upon him did,
The rare gift of faith the Almighty gave
And poured the water and blood that save.
When he surveys his surroundings and sees
The twinkle of the stars and the dancing of the trees,
He thinks of the eternal wealth of hope past death
And mocks the cares that come with fleeting breath.
You wander upon your path in pursuit of happiness,
as you toil through the days that come.
The bystander watches as the moments of joy roll past,
your very eyes –
Oh, What this life has become!
You see life for what it should be,
for what it was,
for what it could be.
And not for what it is,
but for what it must be.
For life is the clay that you must shape,
into such a castle, such that others can but gape.
Such is the thought that circles each mind,
that dictates each word and action of each kind.
For, we – we run, skip and jog through our days,
forgetting to stop and take notice –
The world is changing in a myriad of ways.
And change, it is beautiful,
whether we resist and persist,
to bring consistency in the flow of the river of life.
But a river must flow over rocks and boulders –
so must life.
For, there is no fun to the boat ride,
without a little topographic strife.
Understand this, you must,
that life is no game.
Life isn’t a farce, life isn’t a race.
For life is your journey, your story,
and your only faith.
So rise,
and look to tomorrow with a smiling face.
** A Poetry Avalanche **
Goodness! Lord!
I’m on a roll this morning!
The poetry keeps coming —
nearly torturing!
My keypad arm and fingers are
alrady so tired…
It’s as if
The address of poetry were
On fire!
— With every poem present there
retreating
From the inspirations wrought from
burning memories, preferring
The refreshing lure of
allegories and fairy tales
to aid my creating.
There are still three more hours
Marked off in my planner to turn
Words into exemplary verses.
However, ink now covers every page
Printed out, such that all my papers
appear all scribbled and smeared.
So, I’ve quit scrawling in this diary
And brought my markers out, to kneel
Down here and write
All over
Across our living room’s floor!
————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/27/2023
Sweetheart, Your Lips The Only Honey I Will Taste
A collaboration with Susan Ashley
Sweetheart, Your Lips The Only Honey I Will Taste
Bright heaven's night skies, in your eyes once were,
agleam they glittered, gems as you danced free;
my darling, sad you once thought I loved her
oh how that sexy vixen did chase me!
Her lies about our night trysts at the lake
she said we did commingle on white sand;
I know the pain they gave, was hard to take
her vicious calls to you worse to withstand!
I give you this, our hearts both love entwine
your lips the only honey I will taste;
my love-life’s yours, as only your’s is mine,
so please, lets live and love, let’s not time waste!
Your lips the only honey I will taste.
So please, lets live and love, let’s not time waste!
-----------
Temptress: Your Lips The Only Honey I Will Taste
My tongue tells lies to get me what I want
and longs to taste the sweets of your desire,
I’ll tempt you and your woman I will taunt;
behold this tigress striped in passion’s fire.
I have no shame in stalking you, my prey,
my green eyes have you surely in my sight,
I watch and pray that from her you will stray;
upon you with my purr I will alight!
If prayers don’t work I have a backup plan..
I’ll tell her of us when her back was turned -
a sly seductress always gets her man,
as if by magic when the truth is blurred.
My claws will hook you given half the chance,
beguiling rumors charm with their snake dance...
Robert J. Lindley and Susan Ashley
(a collaboration) , February 13, 2019
Poet’s note: Thank you, my dear friend, for your accepting
my invitation to compose beautiful verses with me yet again.
to share this new double sonnet collaboration.
And as always, it was an honor and true pleasure to write
with you and see poetic verses be born.
This about an evil temptress that falsely accuses a man
faithful to his beloved wife spurns her unwanted advances.
Such that happened in real life and was a nightmare to have
to had endure until the truth came out about the lying
and crazy temptress. Lucky that her best friend finally
exposed her for the liar that she was.
...He reformed the routing patriots,
formed a line atop a rise, Perrine’s Hill,
brought in General Knox and the artillery,
commanding the mass through sheer force of will.
He needed to buy time for the main force
to march on and join up in the battle,
the British kept coming, soon to attack,
convinced they still had the patriots rattled.
Before in battle the Redcoats just had
to flash their bayonets in the bright sun,
that was enough to scare Continentals
and assure them the battle was won.
But they were no longer facing such men,
the Americans had learned Europe’s game,
they did not flee at the sight of steel,
gave hard volleys once the foe was in range.
Britain’s field commander, General Cornwallis,
made several attacks to break up the line,
only to run into fire and rage,
with his Redcoats turned back every time.
They he tried to turn Washington’s left flank,
the boldest maneuver of the fight yet,
but the main force had come, and pushed forwards,
striking hard under young Lafayette.
Seeing there would be no quick victory
the British withdrew there forces back,
both armies in defensive positions,
the fight would become a long slugging match.
Soldiers hunkered down as across the fields
artillery thundered and cut loose,
both sides trying to break up the other,
their foe’s ranks they sought hard to reduce.
The heat was such that many of the men,
suffered and even died from heat stroke!
One man passed out and his wife manned his gun,
fighting on alongside all the blokes.
Then Washington sent Nathaniel Green
with artillery up towards Comb’s Hill,
a high position on the British left,
from which the guns could enfilade and kill.
The British saw their hopeless position,
and quickly began an ordered retreat,
marching north towards Clinton’s main force,
having blown their opportunity.
Washington saw his enemy leaving,
and sent Mad Anthony Wayne forward,
to harangue the British as they marched off,
cutting down men despite their good order.
And through the battle ended as a draw,
for the nation it was victory,
they’d kept the field in an open battle,
and matched the Redcoats in soldiery.
This changed the calculus of the whole war,
all knew battles would be more costly now,
England would no longer campaign in the north,
hoping for easier prey down south…
His slender serpentine neck, silently sliced through the surface tension,
sending ripples stirring in the calm waters of Loch Ness,
He was jittery; leery of being seen.
But, a pudgy-faced moon spun its light into a ribbon
of golden filigree that shimmered,
and danced across the waves.
Its beauty was such that he just had to see it for himself.
The air tickled his nose,
sending small puffs of mist into the air with each snort,
and it made him look like a dragon, belching smoke.
He knew he couldn't stay more than a few moments,
before he had to submerge to breathe through his gills; or choke.
But it is all worth it,
to see the stars sparkling like jewels in a sky of ebony.
His limpid eyes drank in the beauty of the night,
in his world of inky blacks and murky grays
his species evolved exceptional eyesight.
His head breaching the surface of the water, entered an alien world,
where magic exists.
He hears a commotion along the shore; people point in his direction,
and he knows he needs to disappear.
But, it's so beautiful above the water,
that Nessie dreads going back to the depths from whence he came.
(Free Verse)
03/30/2017