Best Surged Poems
He left his sneakers by the shore
A backpack too, was laid aside
to pick up when the sun had died
He claimed his other gear, instead
The thrill of rapids filled his head
and sounds of water drew him in
His sneakers, backpack cast aside
would wait 'til dusk, upon the grass
when he returned to don again
They did not hear the roaring tides
They did not hear the shouts of fright
Nor did they hear, at last, the call
That came from voices through the night
Calls from those who searched the dark
While water surged and moonlight fell
And rushed instead, to grip a life
His sneakers, backpack, cast aside
assumed that he would come again
His sneakers wait, .........he kicked them off
In haste his backpack, too, was tossed
The river flows...... and all was lost
The cost was more than words explain
There's someone home who got the call
The words so wild, the last, that came
His sneakers, backpack, cast aside
assumed that he'd return again
It lies not in their province now,
to know the cost of human pain
___________________________________________________________
Categories:
surged, bereavement, death, death of
Form:
Free verse
In a room that once commanded great respect,
stage lights began to hiss with heated anticipation.
There were sounds of alcohol infused rumblings
and laughter rolling through the rows of seats
from the tongues of young fancies whose foibles
await the reverence paid to tales that may last
a lifetime.
A baritone voice boomed in imposing prominence
that demanded attention. With such articulation,
trained by years of experience spent in circus tents
and speakeasies, the once proud barker's monologue
cracked from age and fifty years of bad whisky.
He had a past filled with evil deeds and dashed hopes,
but on he stumbled as the introduction to tonight's
show surged from his lips.
A young lady emerged mid-stage from behind a curtain.
A single spotlight bathed her every titillation,
perfectly choregraphed to a pulsing rhythm.
All eyes were fixated as imaginations were provoked
beyond reality. The white feathers of her costume
teased senses and libidos raged while she strutted,
ending with a peek that would even give a preacher
reason to pause.
As the lights dimmed and the cat calls subsided,
backstage an old women picked up her broom and slumped
upon a stool. A tear fell, caressing her weathered cheek.
Breathless, after performing the dance she'd practiced
a thousand times, the young women took her final
curtain call to an uproarious standing ovation.
As she dashed toward the dressing room,
the old woman rose from her stool and the two embraced.
The joyful exuberance was that of a child at Christmas.
Her voice cracked as she exclaimed,
"I haven't felt this alive .
in fifty years!
"My dear sister, may I wear this enchanted costume
again after your next show?" "May I, May I,"
the young girl implored.
"Of course", the old woman replied,
"twins share everything."
C.W.S.
03/25/2020
Categories:
surged, fantasy, imagination,
Form:
Narrative
It's not hard to see or tell this world of ours
Isn't the same as it used to be. Granted, it has
Never been perfect, but I've seen better days
I've become numb to a cavalcade of bad news
That saturate the television, social media
The radio, the newspapers.
I see our world changing with my own eyes
Every day, and not for the better. Sometimes I feel
As if I'm dreaming, but it's not a dream. It's reality
It's like I went to sleep one fine day, and woke up
To a world gone mad. A world, like crumbs
Falling off bread being sliced
What happened to the state of civility? What happened
To the nature of our social fabric? What is happening
To our country?
I'm so sick of Liar-In-Chief Donald Trump spewing
Hundreds of lies every day, further breaking
His unbreakable record of falsehoods. But why stop there?
Since his presidency, racism, xenophobia
Fear-mongering, corruption, foreign and domestic
Terrorism all surged exponentially
Under his watch, police brutality is at an all-time high
What is the world coming to when our "President"
Sides with foreign cold-blooded dictators
Over America's intelligence agencies?
What is wrong with that picture? This nation, this world
We're living in just isn't the same as it used to be
More and more African-Americans are ending up
Dead at the hands of trigger-happy police officers
More and more celebrities are falling from grace
Many emerging as sexual predators since
The inception of the "MeToo Movement"
Oh, and let's not forget about the Catholic priests!
The never-ending wars in Iraq and Afghanistan
Continue to claim the lives of American soldiers
Needlessly. When will our heroes finally come home?
What happened to the political climate?
It has grown so toxic. Washington politicians
Are failing to do the job the American people
Elected them to do.
The GOP has become the party of Trump
A so-called leader who stays up all night
Tweeting more nonsensical lies, who continually fan
The flames of division, continually assault
Freedom of the press, calling a legitimate investigation
Of Russia's meddling in America's election process
A "Hoax" and "Witch Hunt." But we all know better, don't we?
I wish I could go back to sleep and wake up
To the way the world used to be...
Poem Of The Day on 12/03/2018
Categories:
surged, anger, emotions, life, political,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
The sun had grown dark on that fearful day
When Rabshakah, the Assyrian entered the fray;
Their armor and weapons glittered like gold
As they surged ’cross the plains to storm Israel’s fold.
But Hezekiah the king sought the Lord in prayer
To beseech God Almighty, His mercy to share;
The Lord would respond, then gave His command
To smite the Assyrian and deliver the land.
The Assyrian hordes were filled with flawed pride
Their faith in false gods, their treacherous guide;
They mounted their horses to charge for the gain
In their lust for the power that would end in pain
For the angel of death smote Sennacherib’s camp
And the fires of war were put out like a lamp;
The fields of green grass were transformed to a flood
That flowed on the ground as rivers of blood.
The legions lay dead with their eyes opened wide
And the host of their horses lay dead at their side;
The wind stole their cry from the pride of their breath
And gave its revenge in the silence of death.
The sons and the wives in their sorrow now weep
For the sickle of death had a harvest to reap;
The battle was won by the grace of the Lord
Who humbles the proud with the truth of His Word.
Isaiah 36 and 37
Categories:
surged, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
there is a river in each soul
flowing smoothly over sand
bubbling over rocky beds
until each living drop falls
Daniel ran through my river
second chance at love
flowing on gentle currents in my heart
waking emotions that lingered in limbo
lily drifting with tide
caught by the strong arm of a tree
until Daniel disappeared in dark water
dam broke; tears surged
lily cascades in a Niagara of tears
Daniel’s soul rises
tears chose to descend
the day he drowned
tears hold power, life
control their own release
drought consumes the heart
why can’t I release Daniel?
By Carolyn Devonshire
Dedicated to Daniel Sammons, a descendent of Daniel Boone, who proposed the
day before he drowned.
Written for HG’s “Personify a Tear” contest.
Categories:
surged, lost love
Form:
Free verse
Stiff, stifling, arid air: snakes, lizards, sand,
and cactus. Scorched red rocks and baking skin.
My canteen empty in a barren land -
my romance landscape till first love walked in.
One summer evening under moon's cool beam,
the desert's xeric heat no longer cursed.
Lazing with friends. A pool... in walked my dream.
First glance: a tall, cool drink to slake all thirst.
Then as her eyes met mine, my blood ran warm.
My hand touched hers; both temp and pulse were raised.
In time, slow dancing - two bodies conform,
and with that first kiss, fulgent flames soon blazed.
The desert heat from which I'd just emerged
blithely returned, as first love's swelter surged.
Categories:
surged, first love, love, summer,
Form:
Sonnet
" Amid the jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs"
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Gold tinged paints dripped from the air,
under the clear opalescent autumn sky,
jade foliage turned to full-bloom flower,
I flew my heart like a bird over the canopy.
The canopy of your allure so beguiling
took me to the enticing heights of ecstasy.
The nest we built in the cleft of boughs
glistened in love-laced moonshine night.
Night of strife surged a wrecking storm,
the nest crumbled to debris of despair.
You flew away to the sunny sky obscure,
left me to suffer in the spasm of winter.
Winter frost slithered with the north wind
to desolateness of the defoliated boughs.
I felt my love freeze in the congealed heart
amid the jagged shadow of broken wings.
" Without love, we are birds with broken wings"
- Mitch Albom
November 28, 2019
For Brian Strand's Contest A Brian Strand July 12
Categories:
surged, analogy, bird, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
In tender light of pink sunrise
under a sheer, swiveling sky,
you rescued me on jagged rocks,
then from the haze, shined you and I.
This joyous place upon a strait
over the gently roiling sands,
is where our love rose on the winds
surrounded by salt-kissed wetlands.
Clear, cyan seas flowed tranquilly,
and in love's trance, I fell for you.
What started as my heart’s secret,
I shared with seagulls as they flew.
Waves surged and sprayed across the shore,
mist glistened and blew off the dune.
Then kindest eyes found love in mine
as tides swelled in glow of full moon.
Today, I count my days as blessed.
I am assured by faithfulness.
I’m lifted to your waiting shores
as glistening waves flow effortless.
Categories:
surged, appreciation, beach, blessing, love,
Form:
Quatrain
Beneath my bridge the troubled waters surged
with white caps brazen under dark gray skies
and baptized in the waters I was purged
as “scales of blindness” dropped from off my eyes.
Below me rushed the waters turbulent,
turgid and rolling as the foamy brine.
Tossed in times of losses' great bereavement
only faith was a bridge of its own kind.
Beneath my bridge the troubled waters raged
with mighty winds and current also strong.
Why fret and fight against the challenged stage.
I crossed the bridge with faith and l lived long.
Over troubled water is a path I know,
viaduct of faith one travels to and fro.
5/12/20
Categories:
surged, emotions, extended metaphor, life,
Form:
Sonnet
WHITE-- PURE, pristine is the sugar coat, that's heaped like a SILVER crown
WHITE-- Eggshell ice makes a cracking SOUND, where the lake is edged with BROWN
WHITE---While SCENT of morning air smells fresh, ORANGE sun is overhead
WHITE---A TASTE of cream, in coffee, BLACK, before I grab the sled
WHITE--- I FEEL the warmth of friendship's GOLD, as we play once more in snow
(Pure, Silver, Sound, Brown, Scent, Pink, Taste, Black, Feel, Gold)
Mountaintops and valleys, are adorned with PURE white snow
The river sparkles SILVER, where strands of ice-cold water flows
Change came without a SOUND, as snow disguised the ground
to cover trees in velvet, leaving traces all around.
BROWN fence posts wear their new white hats, displaying with a flair
While hay bales seem like pillows, stacked, and snowbirds build their lair
Fresh SCENT of pine, is in the air, and frost is our breath
All familiar sights transformed,....to wear a different dress
We'll watch the ORANGE sun gently rise, upon new fallen snow
Reflecting rainbow satin jewels, wherever it may go
With a TASTE of winter at my door, I'm like a child again
Until the sky turns BLACK tonight, to urge me back indoors
I FEEL that child has surged through me......who never will grow old
The snow that came, the peace it brings,.... worth more than pots of GOLD
_______________________________________________________________
For The Contest: "Colors" Sponsored by Tammy Reams
11/1/15
Categories:
surged, seasons, snow,
Form:
Free verse
CITADEL AND CONSTELLATIONS
The green leaves in rugged moans;
The tall bushes in rumbling groans;
The roofs train creaks-- their fugue
blow cobwebs hugging branches below,
such are precursors inviting darkness lair
for stormy clouds before crowd the days.
Yellow horizon seem unreachable honey
as in my life's ocean, balloon billows I bear.
I-- surged in every swell to skirt yet still
lashing waves dashed pushing me sometimes to despair.
Again, cataclysm walk unheralded casting loose
my arms lift upon the glimmer of silver lining from afar
somber shadows enshrouded me in a mist of struggles.
Ounce of strength I have, I try to juggle and juggle
yet, curses fell from hearts and lips parched of love.
All these came, one and all --
the flowing light has flickered flash and gone
but beyond all these you stood -- my sentinel...
You hushed the bad constellations hanging 'round my world
like a lighthouse guiding a lost ship to his home.
Yes! You are my beacon, a promontory amidst
cyclic onslaught brambles and chameleons,
a rock to cling in the wind's creeping fury,
Staunch and firm, my ñhero fighting the torrential
cascade of tirades and reproaches: MY CITADEL. . .
_____________________________________________________________________
***Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name Your Favourite Old Poem #2
++Placed 2nd++
***Sponsor Justin Bordner
Contest Name How You Make The Stars Hush
++Placed2nd++
©O.E. Guillermo
06:37 pm, February 24, 2015
Categories:
surged, imagery, inspiration, life, love,
Form:
Narrative
An anomaly in furnishings, I was;
so avant-garde, I triggered smiles and buzz.
Not like baroque, ornate styles of the past,
my bona fide remake was made to last.
A cacophony of patterns- deja vu,
brought slow ennui; now time for something new.
With full carte blanche, my sharper look emerged.
Sparked by elan, my modern era surged.
Some called my offbeat stylists dilettante-
but, retro styles are still on lists of wants.
January 16, 2018
Contest No 1167 Poetry Contest,
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Categories:
surged, fashion, home, tribute,
Form:
Personification
VIVA LA ELVIS
In Tupelo Mississippi, twin baby boys were born,
To Gladys and Vernon Presley, but sadly one passed on.
They named him Jesse Garon, their hearts so full of pain,
And then came Elvis Aaron, a breath of sweet refrain.
One heart beating for the two, their spirits intertwined;
To restore faith and hope and joy to dear ones left behind.
Elvis grew from babe to boy his heart set on a goal,
From boy to man to legend; The King of Rock n’ Roll.
He lived in humble dwellings, his Pa his Ma and he;
Playing his guitar, singing songs, pure golden melodies.
Country, Gospel, Blues and Jazz the rhythms of the soul,
And Rock n’ Roll, the very core of hearts both young and old.
While rising up to stardom, his pelvis did he swing;
Some church folk banged the gavel to crucify ‘The King’.
Their efforts came to nothing, as fans from near and far,
Surged on with huge momentum, to win that holy war.
So once again he stood there, gyrating at his will,
Until the day he heard a call that made those hips stand still.
Called to serve his country, the nation’s rising star,
And while along that journey, he sadly lost his Ma.
On the first of May, a bride’s bouquet, a blush of summer wine,
Elvis wed Priscilla; his beautiful fraulein.
Soaring in her lover’s arms on the wings of destiny,
Nine months later they were blessed with gorgeous Lisa Marie.
The happiness they shared together wrapped in melody;
Like a poet’s dream, a symphony, a lover’s rhapsody.
Then fate stepped in and dealt a blow that tore the dream apart,
And in its wake it left a trail of tears and broken hearts.
‘The King’, on stage and silver screen, he took the world by storm,
A real hunk of burning love in a GI uniform.
He rocked the house to loud applause, he played the matador,
And danced with pretty Hula girls in the Hawaiian sunset glow.
August 16, ’77 was the day ‘The King’ had died,
But forever lives the Legend, born on 8/1/35.
His mamma smiled and gently beckoned to her second born,
While holding close the one she’d lost that fateful winter’s morn.
The joy he brings to us down here can never be replaced,
Though many keep on trying in vain to fill the empty space.
His spirit fills all Graceland, to watch o’er kith and kin,
In the Heavenly sounds of Dixieland … I hear God joining in.
Elaine Randolph
Copyright ©2009 Elaine Randolph
Categories:
surged, dedicationheart, lost, day, heart,
Form:
Ode
As I walked, one morning, alone, by the sea,
Thinking of nothing but myself and me,
I noticed, above the roar of the ocean,
A splashing, and thrashing, and foaming commotion.
My heart pounded madly, and adrenaline surged,
When a great, scaly beast, from the water emerged.
The creature stood glistening wet in the sun.
I didn't know whether to stand there, or run.
It turned its great head and looked all around.
Its red eyes like beacons, ten feet from the ground.
As it stepped slowly forward, the damp beach sand crunched,
And I wondered if I would be breakfast, or lunch.
Although the sea monster was at least ten-feet tall,
The look in its eyes was not threatening at all.
The creature seemed friendly, and curious too--
Wondering and waiting to see what I 'd do.
At last I remembered what feet were made for,
So I slowly turned, and walked back down the shore.
Now, strange as it seems, the thing followed me home.
It lay down on the porch, and I ran to the phone.
I called up some scientists, and they rolled on the floor,
When I said I'd discovered a live dinosaur.
But, to prove that they know how to play by the book,
They said, "Bring it on in, and we'll take a look."
Well, they probed, and they prodded, and they analyzed.
They studied its throat, its ears, and its eyes.
Then the great men of science, at last, made their call:
"Why, this isn't a dinosaur at all!
Marine iguana is the correct definition--
With a somewhat serious thyroid condition."
Categories:
surged, children, funny, imagination,
Form:
Last night the ocean called my name,
Make love to me she softly surged.
Ignite the silver moonlit flame
Come to me she gently urged.
I'll hold you in my cool embrace,
Run my fingers through your hair.
Teasingly I'll kiss your face
Taste my passion if you dare.
Strip your body and your soul
Let all pretences simply go.
Let mutual passion be your goal
Surrender to my ebb and flow.
In your loins my passion surge
Rhythmic tides beat in your ear.
Submit dear heart in love submerge
To drown in ecstasy, without fear.
Feel the passion come crashing down
Ride my waves to the highest crest.
In blissful lust I'll let you drown
Until you're spent and cry for rest.
I have tasted your love before, I cried
You sucked the breath right out of me.
In stormy seas I nearly died
You spat me out for all eternity!
I did not answer the siren's call
Fickle waves on moonlit shore.
Luring me to an eternal fall
Losing my soul for evermore.
Categories:
surged, fantasy, imagination, lifeme, love,
Form:
Rhyme