Best Tolls Poems
The atmosphere rings with the bell like calls
of the plover flock, long before they are spotted.
The flight herringbones a grey fedora sky.
Markings of white and coal black weave,
wing-stitched, a blanket maker’s dream.
Sigh makers they close on the beach
at high tide, the horizon shivers the
sand blanches. These ravishing scavengers
light on the tattered edge of wet to dry,
dawdling with the dead.
Plovers are diminutive scroungers, one-legged
dancers, hopping to the pull of tide, dining on
crab-eggs in black-tie and feathered tails, their
gray skull caps lined with a black brow.
Sparrow-small birds dress to the nines.
A feast for the birds, fall crisps, crab moltings,
go on for endless miles. September is beginning
and soon winged ones will fly to sunny shores.
The cold Atlantic will moan for the loss of music,
the unstitched sky will part. The avian choir is off
to the mud flats of Carolina.
First Published Eunoia Review January 2015
a
bell tolls
for two souls
crimson red
with passion
they started
at opposite ends
at full-throttle speed
racing to meet halfway
on the rendezvous rubicon
then they collided exploding
into
ONE
Date written and posted: 10/23/2016
Then comes the call of the witch named Kabbath,
That signals the start of All Hollow's Black Sabbath.
And, from the dark crypts and the blackest of holes;
Come the night creatures, as the Midnight Bell Tolls
Come Goblins and ghoulies, black creatures all hassled.
Come the fiends of the night that haunt the High Castle.
To the cemetery fields where the undead lay waiting
For the black orgy to begin their unholy mating.
Witches, black sorcerers, and warlocks all
Dance to the wind at this black magic ball.
Their music the cry of ten million lost souls;
All hither they come as the Midnight Bell Tolls.
All gathered at last, at this darkest of hours.
To wait for the sign of Satan's great power.
That'll send them in search all over the world,
To capture the souls of ye boys and ye girls.
So, let this be a warning this Halloween night
And pay heed to thy parents, they know what is right.
Though you search for sweet treats, wherever you stroll.
Be safe in your beds, when the Midnight Bell Tolls.
You are told there is no pandemic.
You are told it’s all a hoax.
You are told it’s a deep state conspiracy.
Three thousand deaths here,
three thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
And then you learn it will end in two weeks.
And then you learn testing is available for anyone.
And then you learn there’s enough ventilators and masks.
Five thousand deaths here,
five thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
But you are assured it will be over by Memorial Day.
But you are assured that hydroxychloroquine is the magic elixir.
But you are assured the states can all reopen.
Ten thousand deaths here,
ten thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Surely you believe it will be over by summer.
Surely you believe drinking Lysol is the cure.
Surely you believe there will be no second wave.
Fifty thousand deaths here,
fifty thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Now you know all the health rules go too far.
Now you know about the government plot.
Now you cheer on the Neo-Nazi protestors.
One hundred thousand deaths here,
one hundred thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Intertwined in survival,
no one is an island, John Donne observed.
Do not ask for whom the death tolls.
It tolls for you.
Published: Dissident Voice, July 26,2020
Misty eyed and weary over the gallows I blow
daunting a mere string in tow
last school bells rung
but the hallowed halls still call
Scuff marks mark my sentence
tough times as seconds slowly ticked by
pure white first day memories
when fresh minds mattered
puddles and mud stained canvas
darkness haunts to this very day
running ladders
locked away weekends didn't matter
Used and abused
a fresh life awaits
up high I fly
Ask not for whom the bell tolls
Said little fairy bell sitting in the meadow
Among the Prim Roses reflecting, the sun’s glow
The Cow Slips in the rain
The Lady Smock trips on her train
Ask not for whom the bell tolls
The Snap Dragon bites, the Willow Weeps
The Baby’s tear’s, it often weeps
So ask not for whom the bell tolls
The fox has new gloves
The mother in law a tongue, the lily is for peace,
So ask not for whom the bell tolls
The Blue bell, Cow bell the Canterbury bell
The White bell Pink and Oconee bell
Please ask not for whom the bell tolls
The Bell flower the Chilean bell
The Chinese bell and all
So when asked for whom the bells tolls
I say it tolls on all bells in the fall.
© Mandy Tams 3/08/2015
Local names for bell shape flowers .
Keep me warm on this long cold night,
I feel my road ends tonight.
Somewhere in the distance I hear a bell toll,
he comes now for my soul.
My life has been full of fear and hate,
I wonder why this was my fate.
Only one regret that I can say,
I will have to leave my love this day.
You have given me joy and happiness too,
my heart is full because of you.
Once again I hear the bell toll,
good bye my love, my heart , my soul.
JSergi
We walked slowly along the busy road
My tiny hand slipped into yours
I clung tightly on to you
Whilst my sister skipped off with her friends
My brown leather satchel hung from my shoulder
We arrived at the entrance to the school
Not a word passed between us
Suddenly the silence was broken …
DING A LING A LING A LING
My class teacher Mrs Kempster stood in the doorway
She was ringing a hand bell
Even after all these years I can still picture her so vividly
She was a large hard faced woman -
The exact opposite to my petite mum
We were ushered into the classroom like little lambs
Mrs Kempster’s 10-year-old son Nigel joined us
He had earache and was not going to school that day
For some reason his mum left the classroom
She asked Nigel to keep an eye on us
Nigel started running round the room…
About a dozen of us followed, we thought this was fun!
Suddenly, Mrs Kempster burst into the classroom
She was shouting at us, absolutely furious!
Nigel sat down quickly - he had a huge smirk on his face
Only three of us were hauled up in front of her
Mrs Kempster went to her desk drawer
She pulled out a large black gym shoe
Then hit us three times on the back of our legs
Tears welled up in my eyes
I couldn’t wait to hear the bell ring
DING A LING A LING A LING
Only then I could go back to the safety of my mother’s arms
This has been very cathartic to write - is a true account of my first day at infant school. My mother complained to the headmaster … but nothing was ever done
Contest – For whom the Bell Tolls – Sponsor Debbie Guzzie
07~27~15
Wendall walked a wiggly wire
Strung between two church spire,
Unfortunately for him he was undone
By an oblivious, bell-ringing nun,
Causing a result so very dire.
The Tsar
Bronze Titan, the Leviathan
our Empress Anna's child
borne incandescent from the pit
Tsar Kolokol I'm styled.
Stand inside me, hear your voice
for thou shalt not hear mine
intended once for time of war
not praise to the Divine.
Such arrogance a curse since led
to each of us, the three
by God's command to never hang
and mark the centuries.
Both forged in fire, destroyed by fire
their fate my brothers two
their skins and souls redeemed once more
to fashion me, anew.
Unknown, too, their ignominy
was forged into this shell
and I too returned to the pit
the third dark Angel fell.
Colossi for four hundred years
exalted now I stand
for everybody knows of me
although I never rang.
For Contest 'For whom the bell tolls', sponsor Debbie Guzzi
July 28th 2015
eight tolls of the bell
I wait in the pause
to hear six more
even her death knell
has kept Aunt Nell's age secret
The cadence of the knell on the wind Lord
Has folk peering from windows and doors
A reminder of fickle mortality
Peals forlornly, for whom the bell tolls
The screams of the Angels, are deafening
Those with the conscience to hear
Dark Winter, cuts colder than ice
Unfolding, the fear of all fears
Media controlled information
Has us fighting brother to brother
As the puppeteers pull on our heartstrings
An Orwellian surrogate mother
Totalitarian terror prevails
An Agenda to meet, time is flying
Denver Airports Time-capsule, historic
Egomaniacs prayers to the dying
Positions of power are key
Those appointed are elitely chosen
Merchants of Venice they’d shame
Like iniquitous embryos, frozen
World Health Organization, instruction
To quell conscientious objectors
Mouth the words of the purse-handlers credo
The beneficiaries, monied investors
The greatest good for the greatest of numbers
Bantham cries, from the crest of his pew
Utilitarian logic prevails
Though, decisions are made by the few
Get in line, live your days in your cells
As we gather the troops to protect you
Martial Law looms, incessantly closer
For your safety we’ll need to inject you
The corruptive, are those with the power
Wielding deaths sword, resolutely
Political towers of Babel
Where power corrupts absolutely
In a World of pandemic paranhoia
The essential works, deemed to be crucial
Are the implementation of towers
Beaming Signals of Sorrow, so brutal
A virus is only a name, you see
It was never a death causal factor
Electromagnetic technology
Is the key to the virul reactor
Big Brothers got one million eyes
And a chip, for to go where e’er you go
No crock of gold’s waiting out there
Hid beneath, ‘An Invisible Rainbow’
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
horizon
dark
the
n
i
g
h
t
fills
me like
still sorrow
as birds return
to nests from sad
sky bringing on their
wings the distant music
of the drifting clouds from
the departing day sinking slow
in the horizon I hear in the wind
on which floats the chime of a far
away bell ringing a soft voice of
someone calling that sets me to
a journey inward where I find
my soul silently asking from
behind a shroud mystic
for whom the bell tolls
for
me
?
Sharpen the blade and start the fire
Set ablaze your selfish desire
Alas, I have learned of your hidden goals
It is you for whom the bell tolls
Call it hate, call it detestation
For your love is the only abomination
That burdens, tortures, and destroys my soul
It is you for whom the bell tolls
This godforsaken attempt to smash all my dreams
'Tis only a mere tip of the iceberg it seems
It is like I am stranded on a deserted atoll
It is you for whom the bell tolls
Life can never redo what has already been done
I will secure my self and I will ready my gun
If only I could run to Utopia's knoll
It is you for whom the bell tolls
Tighten the hatches and prepare to make sail
Ahead is a hurricane with a full force gale
I believe as my ship yaws, pitches, and rolls
It is me for whom the bell tolls
Bells
now toll
in sympathy
Innocent victims died
and many people were wounded
on the streets of London and Manchester.
Please can you remember them all
in your
prayers
*prayers counted as 1 syllable not 2 as per how many syllables
New Form The Bell Contest
Sponsored by John Anderson
06-04-17