Best Survive Poems
Blindly..
I beseech you
for my eyes won’t adjust
to this shaded maze of despair -
neither the lantern’s flame
nor a compass rose can help me now
in disrepair I need to find you
with fingers outstretched I raise my arms
groping for you like a eyeless babe for her mother
..but you’re not there —
a cunning thief this despair
for stealing my sight for a way out
Why won’t the summer solstice light this darkness
nor warm this anguished atmosphere..
am I to die here where I lie?
my undressed soul exposed to the wind-chill of your loss
naked in biting throes beneath a stony sun
desperate to thaw ice dams lodged in my bloodstream..
the winter sallow of my heart’s shallows a skater’s delight —
a cunning partner this despair..
ice-dancing with my pain
Where is the air I need to breathe..?
it’s evaporated with you and the dreams we used to dream
the weaver a double-dealer stealer..
life no longer lives in my poker-faced lifestyle
nor in fantasies long gone from sleep’s clouds
moth-eaten desires and grit and tears
too holey and harsh to knit a warm reason to swaddle in -
just let me close heavy hope-chest-lids of empty eyes
and take my last shrinking violet breath —
a cunning spy this despair
for infiltrating my will to survive..
Susan Ashley
October 11, 2020
N/A
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22
Sponsor: Mark Toney
(reformatted)
~ First Place ~
Contest: Will To Survive
Sponsor: Silent One
Tribulations of testing times,
when a result of human crimes,
bring only melancholic rhymes.
You just desire to be understood,
when overwhelmed tears begin to flood.
Where there is not one soul to call,
no one can lift you after your fall.
They say home is where the heart resides,
but when there's emptiness from what fate provides,
you realize what you once took for granted,
was in reality, what your spirit wanted.
Now there are hollow walls with silent floors,
empty baby seats and unopened doors.
Winds blowing vacant swings, increasing pain,
distant strayed images driving you insane.
Muddled mind is in a scattered state of confusion,
wondering when there will be an end conclusion.
Like being lost in Labyrinth's maze without a key,
shouting and screaming, but no one hears your plea.
Tired from injustices served from destiny's dish,
life becomes a constant monotonous death wish.
Yet, you don't have the courage to follow through,
because you know their are people relying on you.
What choice do you have, but to thrive and strive,
because there are daily lessons keeping hope alive.
Dreams can be achieved through courage and drive,
in trials your inner strength finds that will to survive.
Silent One
12 October 2020
An example for the will to survive contest
Watch in action exuberance of life
As a toddler starts, stops, and falls,
Slowly but surely learning to walk
Questing ahead in poise of pizzazz
Powered by strength of inner voice
Taking first steps of will to survive,
Oblivious to clutch of circumstance
Sending some kids to refugee camps
Or seeking asylum, walking for miles,
Hope for them is a place to sleep,
Bread to eat, and freedom to live
Cognizant of borrowed air they breathe;
Some will make it, some will die
Some will shine in open blue skies
Flexing tenacity of wings they’ll fly
Like a tiny chick’s daring first flight,
They will rise from burned-out debris
Ascending like forest of new saplings
Sprouting through the remains of ashes.
When tears of fear grip their lives
Some do fold, yet some stay strong
As life-storms destroy their only path;
Those of fortitude build new bridges
Giving comfort to needy and weak
Taking them safely to the other side.
When spirits cower, afraid of strife
Some resiliently keep dreams alive
Though they know their life’s afire
Trusting new day meeting dark night
Will always glow in ebullient sunrise.
Some succumb to inequities of fate
When despair mounts a colossal fight
Some persevere with innermost strength
Traversing miles of whatever it takes
Finding promise in flowers and streams
Shedding distress, empowering dreams
Invoking goodwill, believing its call:
Upon every roof some rain must fall.
October 14, 2020
Poem of the day on October 16, 2020
Placed 2nd: Will to survive poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
My parents said I could not keep the black, stray cat.
They explained our canary would not survive that.
Parents out, a sitter, and my four-year-old mind
Let the cat in and hoped for the best in due time.
I am ashamed to have plotted murder when four,
Sad an innocent bird died cause I liked cats more.
The whole family loved that sweet cat, “Little Bit”,
Plus, I promise, I never planned another death hit.
I was only a child, when I learned there is good and evil in the world
Extensive trauma and threats were put upon me by many people
Silenced with my voice stolen, unable to speak without being hurt more
I watched death at the hands of these people, covered up by corruption
My resistance led to their increased force with many hurtful incidents
So, I made a promise to speak later, when I can do something about it
This promise was the seed for my inner will to survive everything happening
And as I grew so did this seed, into adulthood with courage to face them
I spoke truth, letting my voice be heard like no other day in my life
Of course they retaliated, but I knew if they silenced me again, they won
Stealing not only my voice but my soul, so I chose to persevere
I went in a direction they opposed, pursuing everything that I believe in
I used avenues of creativity to live to the fullest in every way that I could
I gave myself all that they couldn’t give me, comfort and safety
As I bloomed in my years of life, I spread beauty wherever I could
Knowing, there are so many others who carry a burden of pain from the past
The more I fell the more I stood, the more I was attacked, the more I fought
My will to survive strengthened every time and this is why I am still here
Broken promises lead to mistrust, my fulfilled promise led to empowerment
Heidi Sands
10/11/20
Placed 3rd in the Will to Survive Poetry Contest. Sponsor: Silent One
EVE OF STORMS
As I look towards the horizon,
Without hesitation,
But with determined yet
Heartfelt trepidation,
And see a distant angry
Storm forging forth
Its spluttering vicious curvaceous
Fearful advance holds my gaze
With historical ageless
Heartfelt emotions,
That sink and dive,
And furl and curl,
Knowing no one may survive!
Poseidon and Neptune take centre stage,
And Eve of storms unleashes wrath,
Tempts oceans rage!
The beginning of time
Is about to meet Mythology
Eternity about to clash
With oceans and Astrology
The mystical ocean gods,
Meet Eve, the beginning of human
Temptation, against all odds!
The reptile has achieved
Its evil aim and intent,
Causing chaos and fear
Alone is it’s content.
The gods call upon God our Maker
To drown the serpent tormentor,
And quell this tidal wave
Ten storeys tall,
About to wipe out all,
This massive water wall!
Eve of Storms has angered God
She had already lost the keys
To Paradise, now interferes
With Poseidon and Neptune,
The gods of seas,
God the omnipresent and the
Only truth sends Eve back to Earth,
Is Eve of Storms,
Fiction, or myth people say,
But to this day
Whilst looking up
At starlit skies
We are no more the wise!
Today I awoke with a foreboding and a heavy heart.
A contest of good and evil has torn my world apart.
I never even imagined that evil would rule the day.
My faith was greatly shaken in a most disturbing way.
What began with joy and promise quickly turned to grief.
Roughly half the country cried in disbelief.
A cult of hate and selfishness found a way to win,
By lying and blaming others for a nation's sin.
It's the same dangerous playbook employed by madmen in the past:
One man delivers the soliloquy and silences the cast.
I never thought my country could ever stoop so low.
Liberty is hiding her face with no freedom to bestow.
So, throw away all Illegals and close our borders tight.
We don't need friends and neighbors to stoke our country's might.
Once a beacon of freedom but soon to go it alone;
Our new slogan is 'America First' so World you're on your own.
Janece Terry
November 6, 2024
She lives
against all odds
'needle in a haystack'
stranger gave her a new kidney
new life
deprived of a father to tell her that her skirts to small
she wore it to hug her hips and rise with every sway in her walk
her mother, another statistic of having babies to young,
was to whipped in her dip trying to be hip so she cheered her poor child on
she's dying to survive in a broken home
daddy not around to watch her spend a penny and mamas hardly home
she's dying to survive and she's put her school on hold
she's another undereducated black child with no priorities or goals
she careers soliciting her body, making it hobby to walk up and down blocks
waiting for the right brotha she can sweet talk and pick pocket
at the honk of his horn, she stops hot trotting
hopped in his car and found a quiet spot for lip locking
her hand rises up his leg, she feels for his man
he nods giving her consent
she prices her body for those new Jordan and dolce & gabbani
she'd rather rock the latest fashions then to feed her starving body
she's hopelessly devoted to being the hottest at the parties
she's dying to survive wanting attention to feel the space neglected by another
who makes alcohol a hobby
she's dying to survive rich living is her poverty
she's deaf to her inner voice that yells to her it's wrong
she confides in bad associates who cheer her on
she doesn't know this is how she's dying
she's dying to survive
*** Awaiting Inspiration ***
(written for my brother and sister poets)
Reaching for dreams in the black of my closed eyes, but sleepless,
I go on in music, out past radiant lights —
Bright and brighter — spreading beams that hold back off every
Fright plotted by the cornered, infernal shadows threatening
To overwhelm as they amass over meadows bordering
The forested wilds’ protection of those — hidden therein.
Those, who, in their God-graced innocence, their divinely destined lives,
From infant cries to elder wise; and who will survive
Keeping in the depth of their beings a spirit of truth with
A visible valiance — seen upon a look deep into their eyes;
While —- in this place — in this secrecy thick with trees — I alone
Am ready with pen in hand...to be their mirror…
For I am a documentarian of the hopes held
In humanity’s array of feeling hearts:
Whose stories I note
In the bounce of continuous city din; in tales recounted by farm folk
Walking between their grain-growing rows; and told in chanted
Prayers rising for the ill, the poor, the despairing…needed and answered.
Thus, holding visions and voices, I persistently proceed with my work,
First, with a necessary pulling at these pliant walls
Of the creative cocoon — its soft, loose weave deceptively
Can seem easily penetrable. Possibly God will respond to these
Cries for his collaboration. Meanwhile, alone, awaiting inspiration, I stay
With crayons in hand, watching the approach of a very rare snowfall in May.
*****. ******. ******. *******. ******. *****
Inspired by Milton & Dante, may be Part i of a longer work.
Thanks be to God…
Also for Charlie and Jim with thanks.
11/21-28 (c)S. Young Eslinger
She finds the pink planet, musing Alice Liddell's Imagination is the only weapon in war with reality. Sky's canvas, brushed cotton candy clouds where marshmallow mountains peak and the seventh sun rides low 'til the man in the moon awakens. White light and red, filters a pink-tint, nebulous fringed rose gold. Pearlescent beams lap at her legs, silhouettes blossom as silky waves of jasmine kiss, spiral, and envelop her
open-mindness to
embrace the unexpected
Alice would be proud
realization pink planet
a bountiful life journey
In the midst of a barren land,
Where the scorching sun never fades,
I wander alone with nothing in hand,
Only my dreams that my mind creates.
My eyes search for a vision to cling,
A glimpse of hope, a chance to survive,
But all I see is a cruel mirage,
A false oasis that I can't derive.
The heat of the sand blurs my vision,
My tears mix with the salty sweat,
The pain of thirst, the fear of extinction,
Haunts me like a lifelong debt.
The mirage taunts me with its beauty,
A paradise that I can't reach,
It teases me with its endless duty,
A lie that my heart can't breach.
The wind whispers of a distant life,
A promise of a greener land,
But I know it's just another strife,
Another mirage that I can't withstand.
The hope in my heart slowly fades,
As the mirage disappears into the air,
I fall to my knees and pray for aid,
For a miracle that will show me care.
The tears in my eyes blur my sight,
As I embrace my fate with open arms,
But suddenly, a drop of water ignites,
A spark of hope that the world disarms.
A river flows, a miracle unveiled,
A vision that was once a mirage,
A dream that my heart had hailed,
A promise of a life without sabotage.
The storm in my heart calms down,
As I embrace the reality that I see,
The mirage of hope is no longer a frown,
But a memory that will forever be..
We're in the midst of natures blitz.
An air of mist we're all trying to resist.
It leaves me wondering if I'm alive.
And what I'll do if I survive.
We've lost the best that lived in jest.
He quietly said what we suggest.
A life delivered walkin' around.
Each mail box filled with his earthly sound.
Just where did all his smarts come from.
It sure all added up to a mighty tidy sum.
As we count our blessings now that he's gone.
With our empty hearts filled with so long.
So now I pray that what I say.
May have an ounce of his dismay.
And a pound of his sweet soul.
To hear that sound that makes us whole.
You'd think that I thought he's a God.
Well, yeah, whatever, it's not so odd.
To be in awe of some on earth.
Who seem too good right from their birth.
He's not a saint, he'd say he ain't.
He lived and loved, a song his paint.
An inspiration to find a meaning.
In all that's good, and all that's demeaning.
I could hear him here, sipping his beer.
Stopping to say what's in his heart.
How he's been glad to play his part.
Deliverin' the mail right from the start.
Note: This is in tribute to one of the greats we just lost to this horrific virus. If you've been watching the news, you'll know who he is. He's now up in heaven getting back into show biz. <3 :)
MY TREE - IT SHALL SURVIVE
Beside the Kinta River still it stands
Colossus of the primal forest panoply
Residing native of the fecund land
It’s limbs supporting graceful arcing canopy
A wondrous teeming aerial village live
It shall survive
A plume of smoke in still cool morning air
Warned of a threat to life of our dear friend
I dragged back fire and damped consuming flames
From perilled home of copious verdant life
Reprieved to face more challenges, and strive
It shall survive
Bearing scars, endured with grace of old patrician
Looking on unchanged, while all around contrive
‘til once more needing care of a passing physician
It shall survive
Each time I pass that way, I muse as I see
With warm complacent notion : ‘That’s my tree!’
13 September 2019
Writing Challenge 2, September 2019 - The Photograph
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
OVERCOME
I’m a tiny human flicker
In whirling winds, losing light quicker
My flame glows glum, think I’m really done.
Overcome…
I’m a frail glade blossom, that in free air moves
Unexpected thundering mammals stomp with plundering hooves
I’m in the dirt, in a breathless stun.
Overcome…
I’m dropped in a boundless ocean
A collective being notion, passionate movement of erotion
Powerful sheet of love, hardest rocks my waves shun
Overcome…
Mountain of a spirit, sturdy in every little stone
Fortress of standing wisdom, timeless, never alone
Striving to transcend: hard to climb and only reached by some.
Overcome…
-Rickus Viljoen
@Facebook: Mr Writes