Best Swarmed Poems
My strides left shallow imprints 'pon a sandy shore
Gulls cried out in alarm and swarmed cornflower skies
My thoughts turned to Avalon of King Arthur's lore
while dawn broke as an amber yoke in morn's sunrise
I shielded my eyes from the sea's shimmering waves
sauntering restlessly with a sorrowful soul
mourning my aggrieved heart, a heart that love enslaves
My grief spills in the shallows of this rocky shoal
Salty breeze, please chase away my tears of despair
Tell me how to heal or in anguish I shall die
Wounded by pillaged love, my emotions laid bare
I walk this shore, begging my ache to mollify
My footprints 'pon the sand and hope submerged in doubt
I plead for a flood of faith to end passion's drought
October 1, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 15
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Categories:
swarmed, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet
I miss so many things: the old pear tree, which once lived by the walk and the bees inside. The bees almost never stung, but made the most delightful buzz. The smell of the pear blossoms and the fruit as it rotted on the ground. I even miss the colonies of ants, which swarmed. You see, I chopped it down. Well, the bees stung my ex-husband, or, he was scared of the bees, or some such thing. The bees like the cat, knew more about the true core of the man than I did. Once the cat shat on his side of the bed, and pulled the sheet over it. Even then, I didn’t really hear nature’s call. I miss the rose bushes, which I tore out because of the June bugs. “Mustn’t have untidy, ugly, things around me,” fool that I was, and continue to be. I have almost eradicated the wild violets. Soon, even I will be gone. “Who will remember all that sweetness? Oh, the pear crisp with crumbled cinnamon crust on a Fall day, all gone.”
a mown lawn
stretches to the horizon –
a hedge clipper whir
The Rose Queen was a lesser villain than I. She was imaginary and I am real, or so I believe. “If you’d lived with Alice would you have played croquet with a flamingo club?”
First Published in Contemporary haibun January 2014
Categories:
swarmed, beauty,
Form:
Haibun
The sun kneels to kiss the
skyscrapers
The Darkness floats above like
clouds
And those homeless become
accidental campers
Setting their plastic beds on the
cold floors
These black concrete rivers
Flood with moving lights
And its banks are swarmed
With men who’s faces lulled
Locked in deep thought
As the night ages once more
Laddies emerge from the
Corners of the streets
Clothed with nothing but
desperation and despair
As they seek an audience with
men of matrimony,
They sway their hips fishing
them to their cause
Good night Pretoria, the city of
dreams.
Categories:
swarmed, life, night, urban,
Form:
Rhyme
dead red cardinal
swarmed by sugar ant workers....
cat's supper consumed
Categories:
swarmed, nature,
Form:
Haiku
The bees buzzed as they always did
and storms receded.
Silence hushed itself inside a shell.
Jackrabbits hopped away from hell
still intoxicated.
The village swarmed with threats.
Honest men could no longer
make their way. Poets payed
their debts for being who they were;
blessed, and afraid.
Wives bled, chasing phantoms in the
snow. "Art's no consolation."
Husbands crept along their spikes
of faithlessness. Rabbits left.
High in space their conscience burrows.
He drags along his skinny guest;
terrific, bleeding & uncouth.
Mercy equates with Obesity -
"Let me bulge and burst my longing!
Make me fatter than the fattest Truth."
A woman yelps, "I like a good romantic"
and so she laughs and feigns forget.
"Be like the constant nights of snow."
But when the orchards raze themselves to bone -
he pays attention to her neglect.
Ponies stall. Apollo's thief was
phony. Hope is tall and all his
hollow follies, "Entertain the queen!"
somehow like a burning house afloat
with sediment & gasoline.
_"Is all my life in vain? The puppets
with their masquerading calls -
do they see me, twisting nettle,
knucklecutted at midnight, precious,
unseen like a fete with no stall?"_
"Ah, but you've met in Life's divining mirror
the very ladder of your beauty's fall.
Yet still in abstinence, still in nothingness
along the ridge of this exquisite loneliness -
crawl."
Categories:
swarmed, love, sadme,
Form:
Salute to a Man of Mud with an Unblemished Heart
Rommel E. Gabitan
Clouds of mud cover his forsaken face
His hair showing strands of entangled complexities
His arms are covered with stingy memories
With all the world’s judgmental presumptions
He wanders in the corners of our fallen castles
Filled with hatred,, ignorance and neglect of men
We hear not his voice but deep in his heart
He is shouting “Hey, have mercy on me!”
We dream of Cinderellas and Prince Charmings
But this Man of Grease has nothing to cherish
Except finding tranquility and serenity of mind
In the midst of emptiness, yet he resembles a smile!
Woe to you people wearing clothes of pretention
Glittering with false gold and silver of indignation
You eat chocolates of sugar coated bitterness
Yet you spit sour drops of your putrid arrogance
He is a man swarmed with grease, mud and flies
He eats the leftovers of our bountiful banquets
But I say to you, he eats with dignity and cleanliness
For his heart is pure and sincere, despite his ugliness
Categories:
swarmed, inspirational, heart, heart,
Form:
Ballad
Oh such a spring in sixty-three,
the orchard there for miles they'd see,
light shades of pink that tinged the clouds
on blossoms where the bees would crowd
and dance from tree to tree.
The sun splashed yellow all around,
young lovers kissed outside the town
beneath the copse of trees.
The rumble of a summer storm
disguised the din of truth forlorn
as thousands marched this summer day;
our nation's sons in blue and gray,
like bees of spring they swarmed.
But not for life and not for play,
instead a pyrrhic death ballet -
the worst that man performs.
The orchard where they struck was shattered,
both limb of man and tree were scattered;
the rubble of their hate was strewn
where once a fruit of peace was grown -
blood and life was splattered.
But in these fields a seed was sewn
and grows to bear a truth that's known,
nourishing what matters.
The tears that drip like autumn leaves
shed for the dead and those they freed
are buried by first winter's fall
and mourned by coyote's lonely call,
now joined by mother's pleas.
While there a girl with tattered shawl
sobs for her love lost in the brawl
beneath the copse of trees ...
(One of the many battles fought on day two at Gettysburg)
Categories:
swarmed, war,
Form:
Rhyme
(TWIN FLAMES)
Like he pleaded for your friendship
Let’s say he did, alright he did!
Polite rejection would be great,
But all those “hellos” were as fake
He thought being true was good enough,
And hoped by her life would look up.
As in his mind was the thought born,
It there did die before it sprung.
Quite all the moxie that he had,
Without a toil would have been hers,
Yet she felt naught (like would a corpse)
When all his dreams drained through the crust.
Like she pleaded to thus be strung,
Let’s say she did but was not wrong.
A gentle advance would’ve been best,
She tagged the others guys “coquettes”.
How would he know? He’s quite sinless,
And the movies would neither help -
Nor would these books reveal to him,
How upon maids, they work their wits.
Maybe she was, and’s still like him,
And never hopes to turn from it,
Maybe she too is still as true,
And hence she fell on tenterhooks.
She could be hurt and not retell,
The wondrousness within herself,
And how his fancy had took her,
From that first glance and salient smirk.
Like they both pleaded to be born
Dizygotic or one by one.
One should suffer, one should serve
One should proffer the other care.
Once on the earth and swarmed by dreams
Either, confused reality.
Who would be crowned? Venus or Mars?
Or would they both meet in the stars?
“Like a cold corpse felt naught” he thought,
Her heart was cold and dangerous.
Like autumn leaves are fallen dead,
She thought, “no love was on his head”.
Categories:
swarmed, confusion, crazy, crush, desire,
Form:
Rhyme
Park of unfenced wildness
densely packed in light infused summer
city folk beat paths of free spirited essence
park pigeons squat, survey seniors
in the grip of Tai Chi
to seize a different footing
orchestrated movement
Pigeons in an uncertain watch
wait
anticipating
trusting park folk to feed them
then launch in a flap fury of wings and cooing
to seniors' arms extended, open palms
Tai Chi posing
a tableau of food (mis-read)
open handed offerings?
absent
bird swarmed,
seniors shriek as in a Hitchcock film
their eroded routine
wellness check thwarted
push back 'gainst a flock,
shadowboxing the open air
seniors scatter
take flight in leaps fearful like space walk wandering
re-kindled voltage like lost sex energy lit
spectacle, in bird-winged fear
when movement's no longer the quiet order
we control
Poems composed July 13/2022
Categories:
swarmed, bird, cinco de mayo,
Form:
Free verse
A sheepdog who was really quite confused
not sure how to herd or just what to do
first day on the job
surrounded by a mob
of sheep who felt the same way too,
He'd run one way the sheep the other
till they swarmed upon him like a cover
they stood on his feet
he said ouch, oh bleat
feeling like he was going to smother,
Squashed like he was in a sardine can
he poked his head out wanting a new plan,
he barked I quit
give me kibbles and bits
this sheepdog's about to go on the lam!
1-6-18
Poem for picture #3
Categories:
swarmed, confusion, dog, work,
Form:
Limerick
A cart selling hot dogs and such
Was suddenly sharp to the touch
Because thousands of bees,
Eschewing Chinese,
Thought a frank they would like very much.
They swarmed to the top of the stand
So a cop, likely one in command,
Ordered all off the street
So the bees could retreat
But that’s not what the stingers had planned.
Thus an officer, bee-suit attired,
Soon appeared with the tool he required
And his vacuum did suck
All the bees it could pluck
With finesse that onlookers admired.
New Yorkers find stuff like this funny
And likely would bet even money
That soon that same cart,
If its owner is smart,
Would be selling you hot dogs with honey!
Categories:
swarmed, nature, new york,
Form:
Limerick
She once said
on a stormy night
before the first drop of rain graced tongues:
"Passion is overrated. It's out of style"
The crack of clouds blew grey into her face at that moment.
Umbrellas turned their skin inside out
The surf tasted it's own salt and spat it out in disgust
The black beyond broke rain capsules and sang in thunderous laughter.
Passion.
Lost?
Misplaced?
Nonessential??
We caught her up in our raincoats and hurried her into the nearest cafe.
Three hot coffees and her chattering lips.
Steam in swirly rings 'round her fingers as she shook.
As she cried.
Passion swarmed out of her words and caught the cafe on fire
It burned while we sat there
Peeling paint and freezing fingers
Raining sky in midnight's palm
We listened as she brought up memories
All ignited, having slept long past deadlines of ardor.
We cried with her in conundrum dreams
and kept the burnt out structure erect by our finger tips to scaffold.
A woman grieving should not be disturbed.
Suddenly, her words made sense.
The sky cleared
Her eyes swallowed their blue and returned the ocean to it's salt
We held hands, stretched across a cherry red booth reflecting every broken capillary in her gaze.
Sisters united in empathy's grasp
a circle of an undivided enclave
We stepped over the ashes of her memories
and walked her home despite her obstinate refusal for one of us to stay over.
Count down to 3am
and the petunias lining her front walk
kissed her ankles with the thanks of rain
She smiled and passionately picked the velvet purple
and placed it in our palms.
We saw the full spectrum of rainbows and heartaches
and growling thunder on the verge of lost adherence to love
all on her face in one evening
That night, she went home alone, to sleep on her side of the bed
with the shivering almost subsiding into the faintest scent of brewing hope.
Categories:
swarmed, loss, people, words, rain,
Form:
Free verse
Are those tears of sorrow or pure wrath,
God’s anger at mankind
Put on earth to tread his path,
Just to see us stumbling blind.
Little knowing, quite uncaring
Of our world so full of life,
Wanton damage truly glaring,
Callous actions clearly rife.
Have we suddenly forgotten,
Is our arrogance that strong,
That we too were once downtrodden,
But a cog in nature’s throng.
Now we act as Lord and Master,
Spitting sentence with huge swaths,
Destruction fostered ever faster
Life’s fabric swarmed by human moths.
Time to pause, soak in the wonder
At Earth’s bounty in all it’s forms,
Embrace God’s gift and stop the plunder,
Live our lives by Nature’s norms.
Categories:
swarmed, anger, beauty, earth, emotions,
Form:
Quatrain
If these racists be so plentiful
As them in power would believe.
There should be at least one found
Lurking... about my property.
How to catch this dreaded beastie
Was overarching on my mind?
So I laid waste my poor computer
To just see what I might find.
They are devoid of any substance
With a certain weakness 'bout the chin.
But the optimal way to spot a racist...
Is the color of its skin.
They are privy to beer and peanuts
With America's flag a source of pride.
But before they'd drive a Prius...
There's no law they wouldn't defy.
I take not a racist's capture lightly
Should one I chance to meet.
They are easily lured with a few simple words
And a flaming cut of beef.
With a healthy dose of patriotic fever...
I set out to numb this vile threat.
I grab my Mickey Mantle baseball bat
And my favorite fishing net.
I hide behind a Mulberry bush
To circumscribe this would-be menace.
Then give a loud shout... to them here about
"Three cheers for white supremacists!"
To my chagrin and stunned bewilderment...
There was no racist to be caught.
But a hundred media reporters
Suddenly swarmed my hiding spot.
They had no interest in abject poverty
Or an educational system past review.
But the chance to photograph a racist...
Well... that would front the evening news.
They waited through the morning
To appease their 'youtube' fans.
But with no racist's skin to log and capture...
They left to twist another plan.
I wandered home empty-handed
Stopping at a mirror aside the stairs.
With my apologies to them in power...
I still saw no racist there.
The End
*Fow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your Uncle.
Categories:
swarmed, america, humor, irony,
Form:
Rhyme
Imagine it today
a rag-tag procession
two-three million souls
advancing northward
Mt. Sinai their goal
A bearded prophet
leading the way
leaning on the staff
he waved yesterday
When lice swarmed down, locusts, hail
Egyptian first-born at midnight dead
Pharaoh sent forth a wail
his subjects in mortal dread
Israel reached the Sea
her joy turned wary
trapped ‘tween it
and Pharaoh’s pursuing army
Then brave Nachshon
of Yehuda’s tribe
walked into the waves
setting the vibe
The waves parted
the sea split
Their path charted
Israel passed through...
You may not believe me
~ but I was there too
Categories:
swarmed, bible, courage, faith, fear,
Form:
Narrative