Best Throne Poems


Premium Member Glass Throne, Collaboration with Maria Williams

Enduring in the gullibility of your
vacuous domain
Where viciousness stretched its cruel chains,
and vain vows cast in silver lined threads
were soft enough to soothe,
but sharp enough to shred.

I followed the fractures, fine as hair,
witnessed truth crackle through oxygenated air.
Your crown — little more than gilded dust,
from my puppet strings severed
I placed my trust
that you’d come undone from your reign unjust...

And in your castle carved from fears,
bloom black orchids, drenched in thistles of tears,
veiling the moon with lethal lace,
perfumed with poison, in gruesome grace.

Yet I refuse to drown in the seas of the artless,
like a marionette, silenced and heartless:
for I am the silhouette of silk and solace,
soaring beyond chains of brutality and malice,

To an island where thorn less love blooms,
and faith is the melody to erase written gloom,
from the sinister streaks of the narcissistic sun-stain
I ricochet amidst the night and champagne rain...

An Empty Throne - Part 1 of 9

An empty throne – Part 1 of 9

For this of castled velvet throne
A queen does weep a single tear
Bleak shadows of this night have grown
To cast upon her heart this fear

Reflection polished marble floor
Her silhouette of humbled reach
Now shutters via nightmare’s pour
Alone of bridges fought to breach

Beyond the window valleys sleep
Soft candle flame in slumbered night
Flickering her pain felt deep
Burning through in cautioned light

An empty throne aside her heart
Its warmth now chilled of worried feel
That day her love he did depart
Read messages to long conceal

Her single kiss of cherished due
A farewell bid, pled safe return
Lost amidst this sorrowed view
And loneliness again did burn

As if the dawn had been his shield
In misty haze on moor’s harsh breath
Of forest frame it had concealed
A moment quick of arrow’s death

She takes this single tear she’s cried
Into a glass of poison clear
This droplet or her love applied  
Her broken heart to wish him near

And brings this potion to her lips
Such bitter taste slow going down
A whispered thought in swallowed sips
To then remove her saddened crown

Upon his throne of gold now rests 
She breathes one final moment pure
Her eyes now close of wishful quest
To be with her sweet king once more


I am going to post this 9 part poetic series one at a time, 3 parts per day. (That way we can get it over with in 3 days) : ) I hope you enjoy this.

An Empty Throne - Part 2 of 9

An Empty Kingdom 

The news did spread, a kingdom’s will
For sorrow placed its shadowed hand
‘Pon castle steps the crowd did fill
As heart break took a firm command

The skies, a darkened clouded stain
As children wept in mother’s fold
Now lost amidst a dismal rain
This hour of sadness frigid cold

How could it be, their precious queen
Had fallen to a woeful stead
A tethered seed, nightmarish deem
Her majesty this day is dead

The knight, of shining armor might
Her lifeless body cradled deep
Staring straight to heaven’s light
Then bowed his head, began to weep

He raised her body ever strong  
Carried her through chambered door
An empty hallway wide as long
Depleted by this mournful chore

The villagers of forlorn feel
Gathered in the dampened street
The plight of loss in full reveal
Disconsolate of death’s defeat 

When then upon horizon’s glare
A silhouette of staggered steed
Towards the kingdoms stricken stare
In slow methodic steps proceed

This figure slumped of saddle ride
And weary strains of wistful yearns
Through gates of iron, wandered stride
A shout rings out, “Our king returns”


Premium Member Twilight Throne


I'm the lion-hearted fragrance of basil stars, 
breathing blames like the Goddess of Hurricanes, 
but, was this twilight throne, ever mine to tame?
I'll forever bleed upon the chess of lies and life, 
for, my plea is an inkless riot of ruby stains ~
evermore, kissed by the flames of funeral Luna.

Premium Member Our Bawdy Queen

Now, the time has come for bawdy things
from no other than our queen of queens.
	As she takes the throne,
	the crowd emits a groan.
This, the reign of the Queen of Obscenes.

Premium Member Elizabeth's Throne

Elizabeth’s Throne

You still sit on England’s grand throne!

For sixty plus years crown you own!

Your subjects all wait—

Will you abdicate?

Will Charles make it to the King zone?


© Sandra M. Haight 2015 
   All Rights Reserved


~1st Place
Contest: Long Live the Queen
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Judged: 06/06/2015


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A Turtle's Throne

Standing in a foreign nation, fragrance from a fresh cremation
Lost and long forgotten by the beasts that roamed my home
Nights are dark and gloomy but the tundra’s so damn roomy 
Here is where I want to be so leave me standing here alone
Here I stand a man with quill in hand is all I own
That, my crown and throne

Walking on the sandy beaches, there I saw the strangest creatures 
Living in a unison together on their own
Then behind the bushy myrtle, hid the cowardly old turtle
“Don’t be hiding there old turtle, don’t be hiding all alone!”
But the turtle stayed behind the bush beneath a stone
This, he calls his throne

Night defeats the sunlights laughter once the mockingbirds cry after
Day has set so I can be the king of lands I roam
Darkness gives me all the cover, more than I could need a lover
Here is where I want to be so leave me here alone
Darkness is my friend so I can call this land my home
Here, I sit on my throne

Moonlight let the turtle scurry athwart on the beach to hurry
Into deep blue seas where he is free to swim atoned
Creatures from the deep blue ocean bow down to their king’s devotion
When the sun arose he then recoiled back in his dome
“Pity you old turtle” I said, “hiding there alone.”
That, you call a throne?

Days long gone that I remember, Spring-time joy in mid-November
Hiding in and oak tree from the creatures of my home
Now my kingdom bows before me no one stares or dares ignore me
Here I stand a king, adore me, lord of all I own
Pity all I own is barren, barren to the bone
At least, I have my throne

Then one starry twilight dreaming, where I stood there pride redeeming
Came along the turtle beaming till he saw my throne
In a flash, his neck retreated in his shell and self conceited
“Don’t be shy and self defeated!” Said I, in stern tone.
“Stick your neck out, coward, or you’ll end up all alone!”
Returning to his throne
Returning to my throne

When I woke in shock and horrid, scaly felt my morphed new forehead 
Overwhelming dread and torrid shook my body to the bone
There I was a transformed turtle hiding there beneath the myrtle
All along I was the turtle standing there alone
Horrified of all the creatures rounding my new home
My shell that I had grown
A self-made, feeble throne

King On A Throne -

Before diving into the music video ‘King on a Throne,’ above, 
I encourage you to first read the poem  ‘The Glass Throne,’, below which serves as its preamble.

Together, let’s shine a light on the upcoming ‘NO MORE Week,’ a global movement uniting people from all walks of life to say ‘NO MORE’ to domestic and verbal abuse.

You can help spread this vital message by clicking on the YouTube tab for my video above and viewing it on my channel. 

Your support through comments—both here and on my channel—would mean so much.

If you enjoy my work, consider subscribing, and get notified,  as some of my creations on YouTube are not available on Poetry Soup. 

Note-  You do not need a YouTube member to post a comment or to Like and  Subscribe. 
Thank you for being a part of this journey. Now, read on and immerse yourself in the 

‘The Glass Throne’ 
the Poem!

Clay castles built on fleeting breath,
where thrones are carved from  glass not depth.
Once love adorned with shimmering gold,
now whispers weave through mirrors cold.

Shifting like a restless ghost
In shadows doubt—the spiteful host.
A monarch drunk on self-versed curse.
Malicious barbs that once disturbed
Now sputter into broken verbs

Darts shot through ego’s bliss
A precarious balance at the pale abyss
But glass will crack, and winds will rise,
As shadows bleed beneath her skies.
From gold leaf lips deceptive lies
Though hidden truths unveil their guise
As complex carved illusions fade
The masquerade unmasked ~ No charades

It’s a time to shine a spotlight on an epidemic that impacts 1 in 3 women and 1 in 6 men globally. But it’s more than just about increasing awareness; it’s about collective action.
 
When individuals, organizations, and communities get involved in the movement to stop and prevent abuse, we are louder, stronger, and more impactful.

Power to the People who put up with it.

Premium Member Alone At the Throne

Shall I entertain you for a while?
Make the thunder clap and hilltops smile.

The brooks may babble along the way.
Men will realize they are made of clay.

I'm the creator of everything.
Without my breath the birds wouldn't sing.

Men now believe they created me.
Laudie da thoughts what will be will be.

They think that faith is just for the weak.
For them it's wealth and pleasure they seek.

All that is gathered has no real worth.
I offer you freedom and rebirth.

Patience will wane this World will crumble.
Those who are proud will become humble.

One day you will face me at my throne.
Without my Son you will be alone.

You may now think I do not exist.
It's your mortal soul that is at risk.

All around you I have placed the signs.
You have a choice to be one of mine.


I thought being it is Easter this piece would be appropriate for the timing of your contest. Blessings to you.

An Empty Throne - Part 8 of 9

An empty trace – part 8

The shaman held the vial near
it trickled slow into the glass
A shimmering this welcomed tear
as precious moments came to pass

He shook it slow with tempered stroke,
the gem, his staff, once more did glare
Again the incantation spoke,
an emerald glow was everywhere

“Return this beauty to her form
of daisy rush and willow feel
To cleanse the soul of poisoned storm 
and sorrows cast as to reveal”

The sun now but an empty trace,
a fainter amber light is found
As nightfall rushes to the place
above horizon’s silent ground

Another drop, his fingertips,
then quickly to her mouth did lean
To place upon the tender lips
of this, the kingdom’s precious queen

He feared this might have come too late
as others in the room agreed
Yet not with words, but quiet wait
their silence floats on hoped for deed

This staff, its light begins to dim,
the healer breathes in heavy sighs
“I fear, I fear, we have lost him,
indeed our king this hour dies”

When then a flickered lash does flow,
another comes as if to thrive
As now her eyes they open slow,
once more, their queen has come alive

An Empty Throne - the Finale

An empty throne? ~  Part 9

“My queen, we feared we’d lost you so”
The healer said in joyous speech
“When here the shaman does bestow
these wishes that we do beseech”

“What have you done, how can this be,
my broken heart can not withstand
You silly fools, why can’t you see,
this was my choice by my own hand”

“Your majesty, we know so true
these actions, orders from the king
Returning home in search of you
not knowing what the news would bring”

A frightened glance, o’er shoulder pure
“My love,” she rushes to his bed
Now weeping every saddened pour
To find her king now lying dead

“He gave his life so live you would 
with every ounce of strength he owned
For from his heart he summoned good
his wish, his queen to stay her throne”

“Oh Knight in armor, promised shown,
why did you not protect our king
So I may sit upon my throne
and worry not of anything”

“Be gone, I need you here no more”
She wept, her face a glistened streak
Then kissed this man she did adore,
when one lone teardrop fell his cheek

“Oh what, I pray, shall come of me,
to feel this shattered heart again”
When the through dampened eyes to see,
Her teardrop glow upon his skin

It shimmered bright in colors grand
like prisms floating on the sky
She reached and took his weathered hand
then saw a flutter in his eye

A warmth did flow his fingertips,
his eyes then opened with a gleam
He pulled her close and kissed her lips
“I love you so my precious queen”

Her breath escaped from deepened fears
with heartbeat movements quivering
She cried again, though happy tears
“I love you too my wondrous king”

The kingdom sang and cheered in glee
A celebration soon had grown
For on this day their King and Queen
Once more did sit upon the throne

The End 

Thank you to every one who stuck with me through this poetic series,
especially Heidi, Alexis, Darren and Peter. Thank you so much my friends.
Your constant support and encouragement is truly appreciated

An Empty Throne - Part 5 of 9

An Empty Circle – Part 5
 
A clearing they did enter slow,
though haste was of the days found deed
Beyond the waters chanting flow
of driftwood doors and ancient weed

There stood a man in beard of white,
not startled as they entered sure
His staff possessed a jeweled light,
a robe of crimson fabric bore

Through misted haze of chanted sway
they spoke for it was their command
He turned to stare with eyes of gray
and silence them with lifted hand

“You words are known before you speak
of beauty taken to the gate
A potion, magic, which you seek
to wish on hope and not too late”

Upon the floor a contoured ring
in seashell essence powered stain
A cauldron empty smokeless sting
it burned their eyes, their skin the same

“Fear not for this shall be the path,
Now step within this circled mark”
As they obeyed, with wave of staff
and suddenly their world was dark

With woven lines of vibrant glare,
a feeling ‘pon their chests fell tight
Now breathless as their thoughts did share
when sure of foot they stood in light

As focus came their worried eyes,
their castle stood as if a dream
The shaman spoke, past sorrowed cries
“Now take me promptly to your queen”

An Empty Throne - Part 4 of 9

An Empty Heart – Part 4

Their faces bounded, fear and strife
For none did want to feign the truth
His precious queen of stolen life
Now taken, lost among the proof

The king he watched through shuttered eye
Seen worries drown of tears long traced
His heart now falling, stoic sigh
Thoughts of all else now erased 

With flickered glow, the candle drips
For in does walk the cherished knight
Draining strength to come to grips
As well his tears he longs to fight

He bows his head in slanted flow 
Then lifts his eyes to meet the king  
“I’ve saddened news you need to know,
I fear that forth is dark to bring”

“Tell me Knight, what sends this pain,
draped upon expressions worn?” 
The blood still trickles, crimson stain
Above the royal crest so worn

“It is the queen, your majesty
the news, your death, an empty throne 
in poison fueled insanity
she feared the worse in what she’d known”

The king, now tears did flow his cheek
Trembling lips and shaking hands
A clench of sleeve, still very week
“Find the shaman,” he commands

“His magic, shall be ending’s cure
with haste now go, as time now past
through forest lone enchanted shore
and pray a spell he fills to cast.”

It's Ironic That It's Called the Throne

bowed before you once again
i’m worshipping you 
when i said i wouldn’t 

bent in half
i’m surrendering both my dinner 
and my fears

knelt down before you
my legs tremble 
my hands and chin drip

hunched over you
i am obedient
under your tyrannical rules 

there will be no revolution today
© Essie Wixs  Create an image from this poem.

An Empty Throne - Part 3 of 9

An Empty Realm – Part 3

The startled crowd his side did rush
As slow upon the ground he fell
Seeping blood, a worried hush 
“Your Majesty” a voice did yell

Shoving bodies, pushing through
A sentry wrought of silver chain
“Find the healer” his command
Echoed of this loud exclaim

He helped the king to stand his feet
An arm in offered steady sure
A glance about, he’d not repeat
Uncertain moments to endure

Towards the castle, cobbled pace
Another came, assistance felt
And then appeared the healer’s face
Before his king, he fell and knelt

A weaker state with eyes now glass
Consciousness began to seep
“Bring him to the castle quick,
the wound received near fatal deep”

Once within the lighted glare
Upon a bed of feathered fill
The king was laid, comforted care   
With prayers of strength and endless will

Breath now weak, pulsing slow
The healer plied his knowledge true
Pressure to the wounded flow
Hoping best for what to do

When then of listless tethered word
Through thoughts of love and soft confide
The king he spoke, these words were heard
Summons my queen to here my side

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