Best Tars Poems
Four kegs, they’d left on the rye field’s bare crest
gone were the skittles and the balls of wood.
Four kegs empty of magical brew, strewn
upon the hill’s breasts, where gnomes had stood.
They’d left long ago, twenty years today.
Here’d been a mountain, where now a farm stood.
They had left their tipple as each strike thundered
to lambaste lightning from stacked firewood.
On the rye field’s bare crest now shrouded in snow
beneath a Wedgwood sky, stood kegs of wood.
On the rye field’s bare crest each keg turned stone
marking the bones where rebels once stood.
Gone ‘till tonight, the gnomes and jack tars
until the moon’s magic topped the keg’s wood.
Gone till tonight were the hard balls and pegs
this night spirits would dance where we now stood.
Published 2017 by Illumen
Categories:
tars, fantasy, sky,
Form:
Rhyme
E yeing the majesty and magnificence in the great gifts of God's
C reations affects me in the most reflective way. The moon and
S tars provide light in my darkest nights, and the beauty of snow-
T opped mountain peaks makes me gasp in wonder. A golden sunrise
A cross green valleys is as resplendent a vision as the moments before
S unset, when its magenta drowning symbolizes another day is done.
Y ielding to time, I pause in awe of His splendors; totally entranced.
6/28/16
Ecstasy Acrostic
John Hamilton
Categories:
tars, environment, feelings, god,
Form:
Acrostic
BLUEBERRY BOAT
I’m going to sea in a blueberry boat
With cellophane sails on cinnamon mast
It could be cold so I’ll take a coat
And In case of a leak some Elastoplast
We shall sail on seas of blueberry blue
with never a clash and no mismatch
You will hardly see us unless you view
With spectacles infrared attach
When cauliflower clouds are in the sky
They shall give us a satiating entree
Then of course the dessert will be blueberry pie
With a creamy cumulus topping soufle
I’ll send you a postcard wherever we land
On finest rice paper so you can then eat
my words, I can recommend them and
You will have a conscience that’s clear and sweet
A life on the sea may not be all calm
The weather can lead you a merry dance
But in case of storms I will have no qualm
With a spare pair of blueberry underpants
So to all you jack tars I say ahoy!
With a yo ho ho and avast below!
When you’re near come across on a breeches buoy
Share blueberry rum on our little bateau
Categories:
tars, nonsense,
Form:
Rhyme
Scarlet morphs into a shroud of pink; as
Umber tints a brindled horizon, and
Night welcomes an ebony sky filled with
Stars, while a sliver of moonlight rises
Effortlessly in the blackness of night
Tethered to a dying sun as it bleeds.
Categories:
tars, beautiful, color, extended metaphor,
Form:
Acrostic
Bloom! Bloom! O! This evermore wintry tide
Whisper litanies, wondrous lullaby,
Caress skins in that comely way you ride
Marvels of seasoned rind of litany;
As you march avidly, a lone Magi
Desert of roofs blend, your trusty drummers
Quench their arid taste, dust tongues scream, twist, prancing
About. Cadence of words dry
Like fire throat, miles ran, visage of radar
Bridge and brace me to hearken, phone ringing!
Like the soft warmth that never try to hide
Of noon-lake, a swift cut of knife sharply
Through yam, perfect sequence of each slide,
Slices of ease drop, manna fall creamy
Upon eyelids-vertigo turn up sly.
I’m butterfly, cocooned in your fingers,
Spell the craze of disturbed markets racing.
Noxious nostrils, cold nigh
To spill chilly globules, tobacco tars
Ebb cursive; somnolent steps receding.
Now I am soft like tender foliage wide
To stark sun rays, woman splayed, slippery.
Rapture, I incline to your meshed inside
Grant that laughter of a nude history
Where specters feast, their bliss and empty sigh;
Anodyne rings of mirth with diameter
Copious, contempt of your feet pattering;
So my answer is wry.
Louse, I latch to the phone, sweet chat linger
Till rain cast her nest; am I lost dreaming?
First Place in Cyndi Macmillan's Contest.
Categories:
tars, dedication, peace, , Lullaby,
Form:
Ode
Ghostly presence seen nightly
When lighthouse illumes brightly
Fishermen claim to see her
Confounded old tars concur
Her lover swallowed at sea
by fierce waves, old tars agree
Lighthouse beam, sailors concur
Was gone, not even a blur
March 15, 2019
For Charlie’s Jueju-Qijue With A Twist Contest
Categories:
tars, history, sea,
Form:
Jueju
Stars I gaze, all night - as if in a reverie,
Under the sky as I stand, yearning to be
Near you and admire the blue-black velvet and
Feel the breath of silence, so serene - to be
Lost in the warmth of a dream-like enchanting moment;
Oceans apart, now, still our souls merge
When the universe in unison tunes a melody,
Entranced by the lustrous stars in the quiet of the night,
Reflecting the charm of our love, as I gape at the
Same star you stare at from a distant land.
Date: 05/26/2021
Submitted for: Sunflower Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury
Categories:
tars, romance,
Form:
Acrostic
BEDTIME MAGIC
Sprawled under nightscape of galaxy bright
Tiny sequins pulse on blaze of luster,
A beaded stars nova bursts on flight
Into a full-blown montage, the lawns flicker
Reams of tales climb on visions lit by dappled view
While children’s breaths gleam of fantasy hayrides,
And fairies jut out from chapters to touch the hue
Yearning to blend into a ladder that divides
The seashore from a skyline blushing streams;
On one unmentionable lightness of firework glory
Tinseled rhinestones kindle hopes of angelic dreams,
Holding a cachet of flowered moon for bedtime story
Enchanted, their mother blows a peppermint kiss
Staring at gems waltzing high up on glittered air,
Threads of her locks meshed by twinkles of lullaby bliss
As graceful nebulae cuddle sweetened hours, ever fair
Rounding her infants, wonders of night magic sigh
Stars radiant dip into eyes; winking good night, goodbye!
©
** *
For Gautami Phookan's Sweetest Touches Of Verse
By nette onclaud
Categories:
tars, fantasy, happiness, magic, uplifting,
Form:
Acrostic
Great Lakes mariners fear the “Witch of November”
Winds blow fiercely in the cruelest month of the year
The crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald would concur
If in November ’75, their ship hadn’t disappeared
Capt. McSorley made his last radio call
Saying the fully loaded ship was “holding its own”
He had no clue as to what future events would befall
The true danger of their voyage was unknown
Very soon families heard that the ship had gone down
Claiming the lives of all twenty-nine crew members
The Mariners’ Church of Detroit’s bell gave the countdown
One ring for each mate who was now Lake Superior’s
Treacherous seas take the lives of many, good or bad
And the crew reckoned their final fate with their God
“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” left many sad
Drowning was no better than a firing squad
Above the ship the wicked witch cackled evilly
Her victims now lying in watery graves
Old tars now know better than to ignore fallibility
It’s easy to be taken down by the wind and waves
*For Francine’s “Write Me a Lightfoot Poem” contest
Song: “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”
Categories:
tars, death, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
Stars like stalactites, suspended in a sapphire sky
Tremble on a satin tapestry
As I ascend, awe-struck,
Into their icy incandescent light.
Resplendence enwraps me as I
Wend my way through a white-hot
Astral arc,
Yearning for something just beyond my grasp. . . .
Treasures await me.
Of that I am sure.
Tails of argent comets swiftly pass me as I climb new
Heavenly heights in hushed
Expectation.
Surging past the shimmering rings of Saturn, I see in the distance a
Throne of gold set in a taffeta tableau; the stars behind me now
Appear as small glowing asterisks.
Reaching transcendence, I
Sparkle.
written 2/19/12
Inspired by "Stairway To the Stars" Poetry Contest
of Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S
Categories:
me, stars, uplifting,
Form:
Acrostic
S tars like pinpricks in the sky
T iny beads of light shining so high
A rranged in a way just so
I ntricately set, this we know
R emnant of a great explosion
W ild arrangements, was it really implosion?
A rrayed in what we see as confusion
Y et all placed just so without exclusion
T hought cannot take us there
O mniscient power our thoughts ensnare
T he stairs to the stars we can only seek
H allelujah, hear the cries from the meek
E luding our striving to catch them our chances weak
S tars that twinkle we cannot reach
T he barriers are there we cannot breach
A s we cannot reach stars in the skies
R each I can the stars in your eyes
S tars that are mine I beseech
Written by: Mandy Tams 20/02/2012
Categories:
nature, stars,
Form:
Acrostic
Having one's person embellished with tattoos is all the rage today.
Used to be that only carousing tars got tattooed in old Mandalay!
They might have an 'Anchor' or 'Mother' tattooed on their chest,
Their ship's name or a naughty quote of which they were obsessed!
As an inquisitive lad I paid a dime to see tattooed ladies on a dare,
Where they 'bared' their gaudy hides at a carnival or the county fair.
Nowadays, for free I can see tattooed ladies sashaying down the street;
Some are very discreet - others flaunt tattoos most everywhere replete!
Let me hasten to say it's none of my affair - I think they're very brave,
But do they realize they're stuck with the things 'til planted in the grave?
I can hear this question from their grand kids when they become a granny;
"Nana! What are all those funny pictures gracing your arms and fanny?"
Categories:
tars, grandmother, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Having one's person embellished with tattoos is all the rage today.
Used to be that only carousing tars got tattooed in old Mandalay!
They might have an 'anchor' or 'Mother' branded upon their chest,
Their ship's name or a naughty quote of which they were obsessed!
As an inquisitive lad I paid a dime to see tattooed ladies on a dare,
Where they 'bared' their gaudy hides at a carnival or the county fair!
Nowadays, for free I can see 'art' displayed on gals sashaying down the street.
Some are very discreet - others flaunt tatoos most everywhere replete!
Let me hasten to say it's none of my affair - I think they're very brave,
But do they realize they're stuck with the things 'til planted in the grave?
I can hear this question from their grandkids when they become a granny:
"Nana! What are all those funny pictures doing on your arms and fanny?"
Entry for Carol Eastman's "Humor Contest"
Categories:
tars, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Glitter glue laced ticker tape....
Of colourful confetti covering such sight
More and more, their eyes dipped in tars
Infectious quills, beneath these softened feathers
Penetrating, their own fatalities cryptograms....
As they aimlessly blend a colludeds pretentious purpose?
Bending this times fading, unto its very own knees!
Within these, their poisoned spoiled schemes
Buried beneath such smiling lotus faces; cracked
These mannequins dressed in their own dark blank black....
Messengers without a promises clue; not knowing whom they are?
Perditions offspring they seem; these, children of the sintarians star
Venin poised at the tip of their tongues!
Hidden, behind sacrilegious' ruby red lips
Drippings, of a partings depository decay?
Trying to spread their gangrenous green blood
Throughout my venous' veraciously pulsing veins
Like liquid streams of futility....
These pantomimes' grand charades
Parabolics, with hollowed fangs!
Puppets, upon their powdered strings
Amid the soul asylums sanctuary
Of the indeed, vanguards inane....
Colourless confetti, permeating my sight
This contributor, of the jet black pain
Spawned, by the principality of invectives, inverted cross
The bleakest paramour amid the paralax of their unknowings
Souls, thrice times dead....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Perditions Parade
Categories:
tars, faith, life, time
Form:
Admiral Farragut sailed into Mobile Bay with his reluctant crew!
The bay was strewn with tons of torpedoes and apprehension grew!
"Sail on! Sail on!, ye mighty Hartford ship!" was Farragut's battle cry!
"We'll blast them Rebel ships to 'ell! Men, 'tis yer duty to do er die!"
'Twas then he uttered those immortal words that'll live forever and a day:
"Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!" - and with that it was 'anchors aweigh'!
Tars fearing for their souls exclaimed, "That's easy fer that ol' poop to say!"
But with clenched teeth they dashed ahead and won the Battle of Mobile Bay!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Categories:
tars, humorous,
Form:
Couplet