Best Thusly Poems
With the onset of advancing age, so I find,
A man grows weary of all mundane talk;
Occupies his every spare, idle thought
With that of the slow, reflective kind.
Regretful of many a squandered hour,
Turning his back on the squabbling nations,
Their woeful, self-serving deliberations,
Dreams wistfully of his own starlit tower.
Should he hopefully find that blessed stair,
Wound insides of the ancient, dim lit wall,
Where tread from unseen feet sometimes fall,
He could but elevate himself above his cares;
There, throwing his soul upon the night,
Lift his gaze upon a tumultuous crowding!
His thinning pate adorned with a crowning
From a far-flung, pale, distant light.
And if he was to fix his mind upon that point;
To that moment forcefully bring to bear,
With every ounce of fibre when stood there,
An unremitting will to somehow exploit,
That, which, the mystics so jealously guarded...
Then, perhaps, he might too ascend?
For, in all reality, at the very end,
All is thrown off...the very body discarded.
Therefore I will choose my own finality.
I give my remaining days to old worn steps
Enclosed in rock, a turret that silhouettes
Against an endless sky; and if it should be
That I find such hallowed battlements
Give aging legs the strength to slowly climb,
To praise the celestial and sublime,
When reaching up where my God frequents.
For though those stars seem out of reach,
Unattainable by grand, omnipotent design,
Nevertheless I am thusly to be inclined
To offer up a prayer and unto him beseech:-
"Immortal father who created mortal man,
Ye who sits above all earthly thrones,
Give unto me old tools and rubbled stones,
And I shall endeavour to do what I can...
To rebuild that abandoned, crumbled tower...
For, Lord, be it only by dreams men are
Truly empowered"!
Velvet fell from the SKY ON a Boston day by the bay
Cotton caressed thy lips gentility so that you might sigh
While you tried to convince me you and I could beg to fly
Suddenly uncertainty and fearfulness drew night but I never knew why
Other people opined they were warm yet I was cold
I longed to see my arms open wide for you to thusly hold
The woman who tutored ancient men how to produce gold
No statue crafted of such solemnity to behold
To heartbeats beat as one neither ever to cry
Hand in had that old man called us lovebirds flying high
And you with gold shimmering in the wind with which you vie
When the moon that night told you to tell me goodbye
The darkened sky stared right at me
And whatever it asked I would cauIdally comply
They ordered me a way, take to the run and flee
And never even knew fu****g why
(c) 2011...Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
All across these scattered shining isles,
Framed inside a bright clasp of sapphire sea,
A softly persuasive wind that so beguiles,
Reaching gently out, thusly prevails unto me.
And in that wind that so insistently blows...
I hear tenderest words only my heart knows.
And high over, behind secluded wooded hills,
Beyond the cacophony of cascading falls
Where the crystalline stream steadily spills,
Rising up to meet the cloudless crumbling tors,
Are gathered the ghosts of the ancient tribes;
Here, secured in their breath...his resting sighs.
Far above, come the clearing velvet night,
Where wheeling Firmaments fiercely blaze,
I catch a glimpse, within those lights,
Of that patient, knowing, steadfast gaze;
The fleeting, glistening twinkle in the eye...
That loving glance that could not belie.
Now at every new dawn that quietly breaks,
Upon brushing wings of long-drawn geese,
Upon waking chorus-song of birds to mates,
My soaring Spirit bounds up -- and leaps!
An enduring love that keeps me whole....
An eternal love that binds my Soul.
And on the faces of our children's children,
I again see a likeness in their happy visage.
Amidst their laughter, as they play and run,
Counting my blessings as I can count the stars,
When holding close his memory all the while...
To find sweetest ALOHA! in joyful smiles.
so ...
demanding
she told me to stop
to stop 'thinking like a poet' ...
but what the hell did that mean?!?
she added unto, thusly -
'stop creating Tolkein worlds' (verbatim)
that hit home ...
any other fool with a pen would take it as compliment
but I knew her too well ...
I knew exactly what she meant
and kindness was not the dish being served
'you are not so tragic as you think', she informed me
'not so heartsick as your dragon kingdoms' ...
'or their celibate heroes' ...
(my vision and ire, flooding red)
but I am a poet, you see
not by choice or motive or even pitiful circumstance
and 'twas so easy for her to say
as my heart thrummed for naught but her
and her heart thrummed ...
for him.
The Pyrex Question
All my life I have been quite confused.
My concern is the brand name Pyrex.
At the start I was glad, quite enthused.
It's clear to me now I'm under a hex.
I've searched all the aisles quite in vain.
I can find Pyre-X, but I sigh.
Do tell me before I'm insane.
Where on earth can I find Pyre-Y?
The Moses Question
I've a friend whose name is a verb.
His name isn't Harry or Barney or Herb.
His name is short. It's unique. It's sing'lar.
His name is Moses, a verb that is reg'lar.
I know it's a verb. Just let me prove this..
You conjugate verbs. It's easy. Can't miss.
Conjugate thusly: I close and he closes.
I see and you saw. I mose and he moses.
See? It's a verb. Point proved. QED.
There's only one problem.
I know lots of words, more words than those.
My question is, what is it to mose?
The Oral-B Toothbrush Question
My mind reels, I have questions, I do wonder:
Are they ranked first to last, low to high?
Can you find just the best without blunder?
I'm not sure how to choose but I try.
1 is better than 2: that we know.
D's no good, C's ok (so we say).
I have found Oral B ... but oh no!
Where oh where can I find Oral A?
I have a lovely daughter, who is a lovely mess,
for every rule you give her, she will have to test.
She’s always just inside the lines or balanced on the top.
She loves to challenge all the rules to see how they will flop.
My favorite of her hurdles was the school uniform,
and she was delighted to best this strict form of norm.
A uniform would be an insult to her fashion sense.
As her mother, I suspected the rules would soon be mince.
She wore exactly what they said: khakis, belt, white top.
You've probably guessed, though thusly dressed she did not stop.
Smiling like an actress in a play,
she wore a striped scarf with red beret.
Her belt was wide and trendy,
her shoes, black boots to knee.
A voguish olive blazer was her “coat.”
Stylishly outfitted
and with the rules outwitted,
the books she carried seemed a lighter tote...
The "book bag," after all, was a fabulous new purse!
and...
Her creative conformity sent the principal to the nurse.
There is something to be learned here, as I reflect on this bright girl.
Without the rules before them, there’d be no rebels in the world.
11/2/2018
("" In order for the light to shine so brightly,
the darkness must be present"" -Francis Bacon)
Crossing That Siberian Desert Of Lost Souls
No joy, no peace, on that darken horrendous stroll
crossing that Siberian desert of lost souls
blazing sun hit by invisible arrows shot
wherein the weak die, left as carrion to rot
so many blinded by illusions that world sends
eyes shut, never seeing what world's ill wind portends!
Mankind swims in a world that its hopes slowly burns.
Rolling the dice as Fate and Death take wicked turns.
Once as a youth such an innocent soul was I
racing forward deluded thinking I could fly
until in too deep, heart cried out from burning heat
and the ill wind's angry flames licking my bare feet
Please a refuge, I pray Lord a refuge please send
Oasis, that this wilting body I may mend!
Mankind swims in a world that its hopes slowly burns.
Rolling the dice as Fate and Death take wicked turns.
As sky then chased away that fiery red-hot sun
ahead an oasis, quickly onward I run
away from lost and blinded journey through this hell
away from lingering doubts I could never quell
away from this world and its insidious pains
away from deep darkness and its decaying stains!
This soul left that black-world wherein hope slowly burns.
No dice, Fate and Death taking no more wicked turns.
Robert J. Lindley, 12 -21- 21
Rhyme, ( Truth That Darkness May Not Prevail )
Notes:
(1.) Inspiration and thanks given, for this poem was received from a comment made to my poem , titled, "I Looked To Heaven That Christmas Night"
Commented on 12/20/2021 5:43:00 PM by Jeannie Amos
("Not everyone makes it out of the Siberian desert of lost souls. Make the best of your blessing."
Thusly - I got this to stir my composing. - ** "" Siberian desert of lost souls. ""**
*******
(2.) Inspiring quotes from famous,
artists/thinkers/ philosophers/poets
(A.)
“Hope is being able to see there is light despite all of the darkness.”
-- Desmond Tutu
(B.)
“Differences are not intended to separate, to alienate. We are different precisely in order to realize our need of one another.”
-- Desmond Tutu
(C.)
"Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness."
-- Carl Jung.
The tower of Babel came from the imagination of man
To reach to the heavens was the height of his plan
But God intervened and confused all their words
And different languages thusly emerged
Imagine a song that you once heard
So soothing the melody so lovely the words
Words that will live on through the passage of time
With meaning and emotion sublime
Imagine a poem you're about to write
The words are not yet there
But will soon come to light
An image of letters in flight
If the world was devoid of words
Someone would soon imagine them
And then they'd come to be
Imagination is a most precious gem
Imagination has no limits, it is so deemed
Often catching us in our daydreams
Through the mind's eye we try to see
As we imagine things that are yet to be
" Just so Near "
Time doth tell as so we know...
That which we rarely hear.
Our fancy so as winds do blow...
Is life within one tear.
One tiny bit of thought...
Does slowly find a way.
As freedom thusly bought...
Makes way to light of day.
Truly that we've ever sought...
Was always just so near.
Within that bit of teardrop caught...
As now does disappear.
Time doth tell we'll never know...
That which we need not hear.
For 'twas ever ours as days did go...
Way of just one tear.
SeaWolf
©
I sauntered in an evening mist
A midnight's heaven, magic-kissed
Lamp-lit raindrops pattered, awesome
Shining city turned violet blossom
Enchantments I could ne'er resist.
Adrift upon the Paris, proper
Wandered I, a Yankee pauper
Until a Latin damsel's ride
Paused, as she pulled me inside
(Not that I had mind to stop her).
Away, into another world
She and I were thusly hurled
A night of excess, spinning fast
Absinthe sweetened our repast
As did lips, and tresses, curled.
Club-to-club we smartly hopped
More green nectar if we flopped
Pushing tenders to their rations
Just to fuel our backseat passions
On-and-onward, 'til we dropped.
All seems dream now, in my mind
Still, I'd swear that when we dined
Famous folks from ages hence
Were with us for our merriments
And all the mischief we could find.
The best of writers in their day
Zelda, F. Scott and Hemingway
Gertrude Stein and Porter, Cole
Pined, polemic, from their soul
Life and love, the friendly fray.
No discourse was too far-fetched
Others, too, who talked and sketched
Pablo Picasso and Gauguin, Paul
Dali and Man Ray, surrealists all
On, the wilding hours stretched.
Ever poured the emerald potion
Crazy cogs in constant motion
Clouding, thick, the mental fog
Far beyond the hair-of-dog
Glasses raised for every notion.
Thus it passed 'til all went black
Awaking days hence in my sack
Believing now that all these things
Were just a night's meanderings
Or the ramblings of a maniac.
I set my mind to purge it all
Grabbed my phone to make a call
Then spotted on my bed, a note
Within the pocket of my coat
So I crumpled it into a ball.
You see, I recognized the write
I'd seen it on that misty night
When, with absinthe, we'd our fill
And Hemingway had signed the bill.
So I sauntered off into the night ...
Too scared to find out ... if I was right.
* FOURTH PLACE in the "Dreams" Poetry Contest, Nayda Ivette Negron, Sponsor. *
What, then, is Love but a sword of roses
Which cleaves poor waiting hearts
And thusly drunk with the blood of saints
Exults in its own dissipation?
And mine, a soul it so jagged gashed,
A scarred and wilted husk
Which once had songs to Heaven sung
Yet now but gasps with the fetid breath of dying things...
Oh soft Night's tapestry:meadows, fields,
The courtyards of the Moon!
Now but brittle corpses endraped in silken mask,
Their board and banquet but sullen Death
Mocking of Light, fair Hope, and fond Embrace...
Sank that Annie Laurie, down beneath those waves,
Took with her such fine young crew and not a life she saves.
Left there on the mountain,
Just the wives, the gals, the slaves.
Ne'er hunt nor e'er sing shall these lads so lost,
To mountain folk only known that which had been cost.
Banjos ne'er plucked agin,
Danced their last these kin.
Guitar now does stand forlorn,
Futures so then thusly shorn.
Sank that Annie Laurie, down beneath those waves,
Took with her those mountain folk to coldest watery graves.
SeaWolf
©
droll
slap you with a word
then, cross arms and wait
that's how she'd get you ... Grace Cleaves
out-of-the-blue idiosyncrasies that she'd notice in you
laid quite flatly in your lap
for you to comment on ... or not
all conversations started thusly
for she'd make all her determinations
(ie your character and humor)
from that initial punch-to-the-gut
brilliant, yet what most people despised about her
and what sent them fuming ... she, no worse for the wear
a sly grin and a wink to her dead husband
"We've lost another one, Hubert!"
I ... ADORED her for it, and it came to be something I depended on
she was brilliant, you see ... extraordinarily so
but few people tolerated her long enough to discover it
that was her point ... and MY gift
a gift I will always ache for.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "The Lady Down The Lane" Poetry Contest
Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.
I built my pillars
My foundations, in sand
Thusly, my confidence suffered
Anon-and-gone, I struggled to fill the boxes
Those blank cubes on the checklist of your needs
Oh, I did it, eventually, only to hear your recreant farewell
I once thought I was not worthy of your love
For I am a bumbling fool at so many things in life
Wearing my heart for all to see, (and make assumptions of)
But I am sure to my marrow and coursings
That NO ONE else can EVER love you as completely as I do
As deeply as I do, and as unfailingly true as I do
That is the ONLY thing that can make ANYone
Worthy of your love ...
And deserving of your intents
I didn't see that ... then
YOU didn't see it, and you can't see it now
THAT is what makes you
Unworthy of ME ...
But thanks.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Standard Contest 170 Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord for no more heat
For if it comes, I’ll be awake
I pray the Lord, don’t make me bake
I’ll even get down on my knees
And pray the Lord “Lord, pretty please”
Please don’t turn my furnace on
My flesh is weak, my patience’s gone
I haven’t had a good night’s sleep
Since menopause turned on the heat
And it’s no good Lord, counting sheep
If into fire, Lord they leap
So Lord, please grant me this request
And take this fire from my chest
Let someone else be thusly blessed
And let me finally get some rest
Short Poem contest - Honorable Mention finish
Mdailey
written for my wife