Best Thronged Poems


Premium Member November

...carries the wilted weight of autumn
                                                     in its broken beauty
           with fields of brown stalks,
           unharvested pumpkins that rest like mislaid dreams
                                                      patient where they are

November, detached from the moorings of green
when golden leaves, sparse, cleave to skein branches
                                                   to thwart the creep of cold
the leaf brown baggage below curls at its edges
                                                              like fickle affection 

and yet,
        the busy abundance of harvest
        foretell platters of gratitude 
Thanksgiving 
            a mix of deliverance and charisma
            tangible
            like the elation of coming home

month of nocturnal stabs of frost bring foliage to weeping
          L i s t e n
          L i s t e n
to what murmurs beneath half frozen furrows
fields that know what pushes through seasonal loss
          radical roots
          stored in darkness
          a spring-to-come growth
          thronged with voices
          that never lay
                             far below
                             the surface




Poem written November 6th, 2022

We Pass Each Other

He approaches fast

We bump - silly heart beats wildly
Him - lost in thought- No word of apology
We pass each other

He approaches fast

Eyes so blue - elicits soundless sighs
He stares - out into distant skies
We pass each other

He approaches fast

Sensual lips - beg a moonlight kiss
A dropped beat- my heart does miss
We pass each other

He approaches fast

New day dawns - new courage found
Courage flees - from lips no sound
We pass each other

He approaches fast

Gold tipped streaks - on hair of brown
He neither smiles - nor does he frown
We pass each other

He approaches fast

Hint of down - on a manly chin
Imagining stroking it - I hide a grin
We pass each other

He approaches fast

Convinced he’ll smile - eye contact meet
He hurries by - I concede defeat
We pass each other

He approaches fast

Smile he does - chatting on the phone
Pangs of hurt - He’s not alone
We pass each other

He approaches fast
I hurry on - with eyes downcast
A bump I feel - and look aghast
I look into the bluest eyes
My heart it stops
I groan 
I die

A quizzical smile plays on his lips
Oh beating heart that soars and dips
And so this moment I shall seize
Forever in my memory freeze

We stand and grin- no words to utter
Still ----We don’t pass each other

Footnote: 
School over and kids thronged a mall, where I sat sipping my coffee in a café. I couldn’t help overhearing some high school girls, loudly talking about their teenage crushes which prompted me to write this amusing poem. I’m sure parents of teenage girls the world over will undeniably identify with. Oh!! And of course Taylor Swift was one of their favourite singers. 

Music video by Taylor Swift performing ‘You Belong With Me’ (C) 2009 Big Machine Records, LLC  
Published on Jun 16, 2009 #VEVOCertified on April 16, 2011.

Cerebral Cortex of My Heart

I hold myself a prisoner 
A captive taciturn 
Unspeakable enticement still yearning
Since coming of age to discern

Yet never knowing 
Except in part 
The fullness to overflowing
In the cerebral cortex of my heart

The heart knows reason
Which reason does not know 
Inoculated by truth a lie will weaken
Like the dawn of a child in an embryo

For this the battle to bring heart to speech 
In mind, for one to live oft' another thing dies
It's the delicate balance when determined to please
Suspended between fulfillment's death and the giving of life

The beauty of a fractured symmetry 
Where thinking heart meets mind
To know this elusive camaraderie  
Perhaps in a world in eternities time

So I see myself in another life
Where sorrows hold no interest
A wistful smile proves transparent
While intensity conveys my signet

Warmth and wrath bear equal zeal
But I, an antithesis in perfect balance
A lonely vagrant thronged by faces
Embraced by insipid attachments

As honey brines by way of nectar
In homes fashioned with wax 
Void of every ignoble stinger
Known to propitiate the diffident task

Thus so masked I travel still
The duplicitous road yet shackled
Until my tongue finds clemency
From the demons my mind embattles


New World Order

Outside 
The streets are thronged with people 
Chanting empty slogans 
Mindless minions 
Dancing to a globalist agenda...

           W.A. CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2017.
© W.A. Cholt  Create an image from this poem.

An Elegy On a Great Lady

Start

Enclosed in a glass casket
Cuddled in a flower-decked basket
She lay serene as ever
No sign of her past fervor

Resting in her last abode
Before the journey by road
To her final burial site
For performing the last rite

Dignitaries came to pay their last respect
Placed a wreath, sad and circumspect
Consoled the members who were dear
To reduce their sorrow and repress a tear 

She ruled the state for over a decade
Hailed as the Iron lady, never swayed
Adored by the masses, especially poor
She was the mother to all and a doer

Millions of mourners thronged the street
Wishing she was alive for them to meet
Sea of humanity surged in a melancholy state
Thumping their chests and lamenting their fate

Alas! She can’t hear their mourning cries
It’s a feeling no one can ever reprise
Slowly the coffin was lowered into the grave
The sea responded with a mighty wave.
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Premium Member I Am Sorry

It was never my intention,
not a conscious decision,
to cause you any level of grief.
Our give and take wasn’t as envisioned.
Blindly, I let you fall between my gaps.

It’s not right or wrong, but fact that
I got lost in a thronged rhythm
recovering from things life had given.
You have always shone a warm light
selflessly bright into my life.

Stern storms drowned my content,
turned me until forlorn bent.
I pursued a healing renewal but
my drenched attempts were futile -
I didn’t mean to hurl you into my duel.

Please accept my sincere apology
for giving less than you handed me.
I’d never set out to hurt another
but denying friendship gratitude
colors me pallid shades of rude.


Premium Member Ode To the People of Norway

Ode to the people of Norway


Strophe

O, the darkness has descended on a paradise
Of Norway’s bounties of nature
On the people living a quiet life
Not concerned about the politics ever
A drug addict, calling himself a warrior
Taking pride of being a savior of Europe
Unmindful of the death toll of the young
Rejoicing in the tears falling from their eyes
A Hitler has raised his ugly head up
Polluting the minds of the old and the young.


Antistrophe

But trying to take a refuge to insanity
Taking drugs to make himself efficient and awake
Priding over to start war for years sixty
Pleading not guilty to terrorism namesake
Though confessing to bombing and rampage
But remaining unaffected by what happened
Thus his plea assures him of future court hearings
By the attacks Norway is riveted with rage
By Breivik’s paranoid writings stunned
Hundreds thronged the courthouse proceedings.

Epode

With tears in their eyes people paid homage
To the victims laying roses a few feet deep
While the killer faces 21 years in prison
The stiffest sentence can be given by a Norwegian judge
His lawyer says the whole case suggests his client is insane
The Royal couple consoled people and tears shed
The prime minister called it a national tragedy
And summed it up “evil can never defeat a nation”
The killer may enjoy Halden, the luxurious jail in the world
Where cells have flat TV and designer furniture facility.


                              +++++++++
* I wrote this poem two years back when the tragedy took place. Not posted anywhere

Date 4-11-13
Dr. Ram Mehta
Tenth Place win
Contest: Ode (Old/new) poetry by SKAT Love

Premium Member The Parade

The Parade

The sun beat down in the still May air
The streets were thronged with people there
Expectantly waiting for the large parade
As it marched its path down the Palace way

The marshal music from afar
Soon became a louder roar
As the bands played gaily down the road
And the ranks marched stiffly, straight and proud

The people gave a loud applause
But received neither glance nor pause
From the uniformed troops
Each in their smart individual groups

Drums rolled and bagpipes skirled
Bass drums boomed and kilts, they swirled
Trumpets blared and cymbals crashed
While clarinets, our ears, caressed

On and on still they came
Some so slim, some sturdy of frame
Some so young, some strangely old
Though either shy, cheeky or bold

Men, women, boys and girls were there
Bearing down upon the Palace square
Then the stiff “Eyes Right!” was moot
As the president “took” the salute

The sun beat down in the still May air
Oblivious to it the throng stood there 
Scouts and Cubs, Brownies and Guides
Yes, even Dolphins made the ride

The annual May Parade
Has passed us by, splendour thus displayed
The “military precision” might not have been there
But their effort was – And that’s more, by far!

Not Only Will I Touch the Hem of Your Garment

I’m flabbergasted at how the streets are thronged
Could You be the one for whom twelve years I’ve longed?
Oh say, a Physician like no other before seen?
Different from the kind to where I had been?
Could Your timing have been more impeccable?
And Your approach be more unbelievable?
But I’ll undoubtedly put the last of my trust in You
I have much to lose, yes, indeed that’s true
But out of options I’ve finally run
And now even money, I truly have none
So I will find my way to your garment
So You can put an end to this bloody ailment

With an old blood-stained dress
I start out and on I press
I hurry through the deafeningly noisy crowd
Each one giving a careless, yet imploring shout
And it feels like You move further
With every step I take to get closer
“Please, if You are the Saviour”, I think,
“help me to press on, for I’m at the brink
Of breaking down, about to forfeit
I’m helplessly at the mercy of defeat.”
Not only will I touch your garment
But You will make my life to Your goodness a testament

Finally, after pushing past the multitude, I see an open space
To my advantage, in the other direction, is turned His face
Unworthy I am, so I really do not have to talk to Him
All I truly need to do is swiftly touch His hem
The hem of the Saviour’s garment, that’s all I really need
And then from this sickening bondage of blood I’ll be freed
I touch His garment, and it really was not my intention
To in any way catch the Saviour’s attention
I find it strange that no change in me I see
Until that mysterious Physician spots me
And confirms soothingly to my soul
 “…thy faith hath made thee whole.”

So not only will I touch the hem of Your garment swiftly
But I will praise You from the bottom of my heart sweetly
Not only will I touch the hem of Your garment as I said I would
But I will ever bear in my heart of hearts to my Saviour gratitude
Not only will I touch the hem of Your garment, but strife
I will, as I hold onto You, Lord, for dear life
Not only will I touch the hem of Your garment with my finger
But in Your presence I will overstay my welcome and persistently linger
Not only will I touch the hem of Your garment as scary
As it may seem, I will cling to You, oh, loving and lovable Redeemer of Calvary
© Jesz Ika  Create an image from this poem.

Refugee - the Refugeless

Refugee - the refugeless!

Belonged somewhere sometime, 
to relate with, in space and time;
Uprooted, evicted or torn asunder, 
circumstances induced mindless plunder!

Giving up all that once belonged, 
alien and distant shores we thronged!
Dangers abound on the ruthless trip,
false promises made to safely ship!

Causes aplenty for me, to set-off,
on journey - any human would scoff!
My body ain't mine, till I reach,
my life at mercy of a blood sucking leech!

No tears to shed or a way to tread,
wandered in seas and land for bread.
Befriended death, 'the trustworthy',
who often checked, if I was 'seaworthy'!

Wet and tired from within too - my state,
at an alien shore, extended souls berate!
Herded at their will, coerced to spill,
tired of being treated like cattle!

Some of me was just a few months old
and was expected to do just as I was told!
In this measurable space in which I roll,
Life loses to life and Soul loses out to soul!
© Ram Ram  Create an image from this poem.

Yesterday I Cried

Congolese Dreams: 

Yesterday, I cried.


Yesterday, I cried for the lies I told.
I cried for the pain I caused my mother and her nursing hands.
I cried like a child left to wander in silence--to take up strange thoughts as my brown body grows old.
Yesterday, I cried. 
I cried like a widower whose pleas disturbs the peace of his neighbors. 
I cannot remember what made me hurry into my room, sat on my poorly dressed bed, untied my shoes and wept. But on the corner of my eyes, angry tears rolled down.
Tears of longing-- from waiting for what will never be.
Tears that came from the fear that romanced the ideas that thronged my mind.

Yesterday, I cried. 
I cried for you, my mother and my sister.
I cried for the suffering my sister endured
I cried for her broken heart and the desire my ignorance killed. 
I cried for the woman that got me a child, 
I cried for the pains she felt and my insecurity 
I cried for her youthful desire and the trust she had for me 
I cried because she showed me love but I was absent 
Yesterday, I cried till my lips became loosed. 

Yesterday, I cried.
I cried for a future I might not see
I cried for peace and a home away from shame. 
I cried for the days I was ignored, 
I cried for the years I was forgotten. 
I cried for my mother.
I cried because she had not known my child, let alone her name which resembles hers in spelling 
I cried for the forty years I spent trying to find a home within the rims of my broken history. 
Yesterday, I cried.
For my child and my dear wife 
Like a village man.

Stock Market Stroke

Thronged investors at the allotment bazaar
Large cap bearish
Scripts at fall.
Awaited ingenious and expertise capitalists
Then brought into 
Scripts at down.  
Mid Cap bullish
Scripts at rise
Wavered SENSEX
And small cap ingress
Gives the once over like a cliffhanger rise.

Beginners rapacity and analysts variegations
Former’s paucity and latter’s accrued funds.

Pulled blue chips 
Superior position
And more towering price
Then again a new firm
Offering a bid price.

Broker’s commission and depositories dematerialization 
Varied revenue
Over investors capitalization. 

Inflation hikes and deflation brought down
Again a widespread decline in the GDP
Brought the whole market to pull down.
Analyst’s accrued funds and NIFTY’s superbia
Top thirties jackpots and investors allocations,
Sharply jerked down.
Brainsick market
And a quidity beer bar,
A full-time financial express
And the morning tea NDTV regular. 

Beginners’ luck to fill the pot
And a period later
The crow sated the piggy bank pot. 

-------------- X -------------------

The Funky Train 4

As peepholes windows rattled on over pot holes,
 In the inner sanctum, dim-light show darkly,
 As prolific pickpockets glimpsed full fat purses;
 With stealthy filty paws to fiddle and fondle inside hot
 pies
 Where hustling market's women chests underwear pouches,
 Raucous kerfuffle flew after razor slashed deep pockets;
 Like the flight of Flamengos
 Dropping on motion, the golden stolen wallet assailant
 vamoose;
 And here, disgraceful disguise faces of nourished notorious
 beggars,
 Glib salesman eulogize marble chalk tablets and
 turpentine,
 To singe one thousand and one sickness,
 And lifeless crowd spilled and shrouded lapsed on the parts
 of poison ivy;
 Thrust-thronged, defacing the emerging showcase of faceless
 skyscrappers,
 Better forgot in the museum of pyramid antiquity,
 And rot on the garbage of yawning-gap memory,
 
 Dark films smoke caked on drooping ill-faded fountain
 Hibiscus,
 Tree-lined traveling barb-wire amid
 Toxic sludge plaster grass on muddy carpeted borderline,
 The prowling beast trailing, triggering machine-gun
 shrapnels and blasts;
 Screaming smoking tires scattered shimmering lights on wet
 avenue,
 Turning bank of orchard blooming in red pomegranate into
 cemetery bay.

Rulers and Looters

I was told in the beginning
    That a wish may not well be  unicorn
    With two winged thrust-thronged
    To soar upon the cumulus,
  And for those who are wishing
  Wishes to fall on their laps
  Were wholly rendered redundant,
  Those who want to attain,
  Tainted and tarnished past attainment
  Forgetting forward fortune
  And glory in goods temporary.
  Now those who dole out mischief;
  Sowing the seed of acrimony
  Rotten in corruptible credo
  Reshuffling reservoir of redundancy
  To establish the roots of inertia,
  Of Demo-CRAZY
  Of masq-UERADES
  Of lob-BEASTS
  Of cons-titu-PATION
  Of elders
  Of fools
  Of economy
  Of pain
  Of nemesis
  Of crying jags
  And hopelessness, deep furrows on wanton minds
  Remembering the deceit of denigration
  That brought doomed to deserving daddies
  That it is always a surprise,
  Unwilling stallion in the midst
  Of same blind, semblance sahibs,
  A remembrance of the past remembrance
  Raising the boys to take the Salutary gauntlet
  of the favour done
  To pave the way
  For stock taking and a quiet get out,
  Of the unending, pass measure euphoria,
  Then it fell on the laps
  Of a fiery warrior; then
  The dance of the macabre
  And a sycophantic applause,
  Mutatis mutandis, endless queues
  Of rebounding stomachs 
  Roaming, rounder the ruins
  Recounting remnant reservoir
  Denouncing, declaring deceiving
  All one enmeshed in the same pot
  For the final stir of the arbiter.

Dignified Dust

I was immersed in an impervious imagination
of these frail flowers feigning a feel of freedom
I watched their wings whirling in whoredom
Impious, they are implanted with impinged impetus

A dignified dust, decorated and dubbed a domineer
Yet they decided to be detritus on a detour, detrained.
Thronged by thick thorny thoughts, theme and thrust
On a throne of thistles, ever thrilled by thralldom,

Pots parading potpourri, they preen in power pomp,
positioned in a plain, poisoned, they prey on the potter,
O where did you wield those wings of woeful wisdom;
to trail the terrain that will only twist and tame you.

A dust you are, drunk and drenched with delusion
Deluged by derisory dream in the domain of darkness,
you drill and drink from the dust you did not designed
O dignified dust, your destiny is but dross and dust.

Devious: you devise deviltry with the devoiced dusts,
With a magmatic mind, mutinous against your marker 
Your beauty, brain and brawns will soon get broken,
And you will be drowned in the dust you dignified…

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