Best Trudges Poems
Beside the linen hanging out to dry,
a young girl trudges with a basket full
of sheets that she has cleaned. Her head is bent
to hide a tear she does not want to cry.
Although in summer’s heat, she’s feeling spent,
it’s not her work now troubling her soul.
Her mother’s had to work hard every day
and leave the children by themselves till night.
There is no outside help; the mother tries
to raise a brood whose father passed away.
Her sweetest child, red-haired and oh so wise,
does much to make her mother’s burden light.
She knows her mother needs to get some sleep.
An old soul, she sees all and rarely cries,
but while her brothers run free in the sun,
she drops her load and simply starts to weep.
Grief flows till she resumes her role - the one
that is the family’s angel in disguise.
Categories:
trudges, angel, daughter,
Form:
Verse
He's the class clown, full of hijinks and pranks,
Puts tacks on your seat, swallows fish from the tank.
He's full of you-know-what and vinegar, energy galore,
Will he act goofy today? -- Does a hungry lion roar?...
...Back at home, he trudges slowly through the side door,
A frown and fret on his heart, like a festering sore,
His mind a dark cavern, not a thing to live for.
He takes off his mask, the transition's complete,
'Cuz you can't be a clown when life's got you beat.
Categories:
trudges, fun, funny, sad, school,
Form:
Rhyme
With shining eyes, the prettiest
advances leading all the rest.
She skips with glee beneath blue skies,
the prettiest with shining eyes.
The second, with a warming smile,
comes dressed in lace, and all the while
she lithely romps beneath the sun
with warming smile, the second one.
And woebegone, the daughter third,
walks, scowling, speaking not a word.
She trudges slowly on and on -
the daughter third and woebegone.
Now comes along a steadfast son
whose sauntering seems never done.
He perseveres though winds be strong.
A steadfast son now comes along.
The second boy along the trail
has charity, which does not fail.
He renders aid and brings sweet joy
along the trail, the second boy.
Another son, now onward pressed,
endures although fatigued and stressed.
He's labored much and cannot run,
now onward pressed, another son.
At course's end, a daughter fair
who rests - lets down her golden hair.
Most cheerful, tender, gracious friend,
the daughter at the course's end.
Inspired by the nursery rhyme "Monday's Child"
Categories:
trudges, children, daughter, time,
Form:
Personification
Gandhi
What principle stimulated or stirred this Guy
Which Doctrine or what Teaching did he buy?
Sauntering on sandals and wrapt on his robe
Miles that he treaded traversed entire Globe.
He taught of pure Love- Peace did he teach
Violence did he spurn- Tolerance did he preach.
Vision in his keen Eyes, wouldn’t we enact
Pain or Punishment which couldn’t detract?
Thin, sturdy legs of Master of tireless trudges
Preacher of Peace who was averse to grudges;
Of all his strengths; non surpassed his Heart
Which Wickedness had reasons to thwart!
Pivot of all Races, and a hub to every Creed-
Afford Tree he planted to bear Fruit and Seed!
***For those who hold as sacrosanct Teachings of this Great Teacher, Leader, Lawyer & Philosopher in his immortalised quest for Non-violence and Tolerance in Politics & Religion and to those who are prepared to die for it!
JM
12th Nov’ 2013
Categories:
trudges,
Form:
Couplet
A huge Alsatian barks at a passerby stranger
as the pond geese honk sensing grave danger
Trudges back home a rangy lone ranger.
Big and little aubergines cast a purple shade
In the twilight birdsong begins to fade
Night makes navy-blue of the greenery's jade.
Wolves howl in the distance
Panthers prowl near pig pens
Ocelots growl around the dens.
Dolphins perform in the aquatic circus
Kids count on the time-old abacus
All in all the miracle of creation's fabulous
Elsewhere the morn dawns upon wee ladybirds
And shepherds go about grazing their hungry herds.
A rare sight of starfishes settle upon beach pebbles
Pink salmon in a see-through lake breath out bubbles
Bombed by tech; corpses found in debris and rubbles!
Wild species lurk in the murky forest
Stands tall and hovering high mount Everest
A chance to enjoy nature at its very best!
Admit it O' mankind no one can ever be
at par with your and my versatile Creator
The billions of species is far too extraordinary
He single-handedly created all that variety in nature.
For even the clever human who invented the radio
did not as well model the computer.
The one who designed my dresser couldn't design my patio
It'd be rare for a shoemaker to also be a tutor
But God He made both ant and elephant
and there's absolutely nothing that He can't.
Categories:
trudges, allah, nature, social,
Form:
Triolet
There's a viscerally vial creature loosed,
Which is heinously hideous and vicious.
This barbarian monstrosity destroys people's vitality and flesh,
By raping and pillaging their lives,
Killing and ravaging entire families and villages,
Forever cursing all those it consumes.
I've taken up armament against this enemy,
Vowing an oath to eradicate this foe.
I wage continued war on this unholy vile behemoth,
Thrusting my dagger through its abdomen,
Ripping and slashing its bowels,
But it shrugs off the assault undeterred.
I shoot arrows through its heart,
Only to realize tis useless as no heart exists.
I take my sword and behead the beast,
But like Hydra, it restores its venomous crown.
I hack off its limbs chopping flesh and bone,
But it slithers demonically onward.
I gouge out its eyes blinding it from finding victims,
But it smells weakness, fear, and depression,
And tracks its quarry like a bloodhound.
I smash out its treacherous bloodthirsty teeth,
But it mauls its prey bludgeoning it mercilessly,
Slowly but surely till it's powerless.
I wrestle it and break it's back so it's paralyzed,
But its grotesque distorted mangled body trudges forward unhindered.
Nothing I do stops this devastating onslaught,
And I relinquish my battle and succumb unwillingly to this curse.
Destined to be enslaved to this ruthless foe forever.
Left helpless to struggle until I die,
Fighting with my own sins.
Categories:
trudges, sin,
Form:
Free verse
His eyes could be the basis for a novel.
He has seen so much.
So many lives shattered like dropped glass.
He has gained so much hope,
only for it to be crushed by the dark, black masses descending from the sky.
Life is a little piece of gold in his dusty green pocket.
It becomes more valuable with each waking day.
His walk is hard and stern like the piece of machinery on his shoulders.
It weighs as heavily on him as his thoughts.
His face is creased at the hands of struggle.
The voids filled with the pieces of brown Earth.
In the lonely, bone-dry abyss he trudges through,
they graze his rigid body with every step.
Faced with danger throughout his days.
It is hard for him to keep going.
Thoughts of his one and only love.
The only thing inspiring him to push on.
At any moment he is ready to fall,
in honor of all he cares for so much.
Through the pain.
Through the suffering.
Through the hard times.
She loves him also.
Categories:
trudges, dedication
Form:
Free verse
She walks to the door of the inn
Her hands in her pockets, frozen
Through the ice and snow she trudges
To the gates of her home
But only to find them locked and her feet are slowly freezing
Her hands are unmovable
And she refuses to move for she is scared of death
Crying in her sleep at night in the snow, the girl, she has no home
Categories:
trudges, death, loss, people, sad,
Form:
Verse
Life keeps going to find his purpose
he strolls across verdant plains and trudges up the hills
sometimes dejection follows rejection and distress
darkness engulfs
and something spooky emerges
looming large to form something horrid…
a hideous hunchbacked hiatus.
Life slows down…wary of the
impending hindrances for his progress
and there is a temporary pause.
This hideous hiatus distracts him, traps his mind,
capable of taking any form…like
alarming anxiety… about denial and failure
gloomy grief… at the loss of a loved one
frantic fear… of loneliness and uncertainty
abominable anger… that cannot be controlled
pernicious pride… without the grace of humility
disgusting jealousy… of others’ success
dreary vacuity… that fills the desperate mind
…it keeps hovering around on and off
in many more such formless forms
Yet something prompts Life to try to move.
He musters courage and proceeds further
as he imbibes wisdom
from little things he sees
in nature
in his day-to-day life…like:
A fertile green land in a vast sandy desert
Tiny seeds that spurt to grow
into young new seedlings
The gleaming full moon
spreading soft light
upon dreadful paths at midnight
A toddler who tries to get up
and walk with wobbly steps
in spite of falling down many times
A ladder in which
hope takes her first step
in its rungs
and ascends to new heights
overcoming obstacles
The dots of a rangoli
that would never let
the motifs of our thoughts waver
imparting spiritual insights into life
A pure white dove
sitting with its pair
a sign of hope
of finding a lost love.
As hope follows every form of hiatus
like buds finding way to bloom
at every trench of rocky soil
Life advances on and on…
Categories:
trudges, hope, life,
Form:
Free verse
Buzz, Buzz,
still tiered eyes open,
She walks down stairs, packs up, and gets on the bus,
She stares out the window wishing to spend the day there and not at a desk.
7 FULL HOURS of of unempathetic teachers,
they give her 6 more hours of school work to do at home.
No one cares!
The homework starts on the bus and she's lucky to have it done by 10PM.
Finely, she gets to go to bed,
But all she does is stare at the sealing with the overhanging stress of the work she didn't finish combined with the work her unrelenting teachers will give her tomorrow.
It happens each day,
It's beyond her control,
she tells teachers and friends but they spit in her face telling her they don't care.
It won't change.
Luckily, she has her head on strait,
and while she trudges through the mud she stays strong,
knowing that everything is going to work out.
So she tells herself just wait.
Categories:
trudges, assonance, education, high school,
Form:
Narrative
Time paces
-tick, tock-
life trudges between its
tick, tock.
hurry, hurry
-tick, tock-
rush to all the garbage pails
each minute means
another few cents
stalling means
no job to pay the rent
tick, tock
eat, eat
-tick, tock-
slender meals and bitter thoughts
of life and all its tick, talk.
Categories:
trudges, life, on work and
Form:
Free verse
The rottenness of it all is no less foul for having been bleached white. This is the conclusion I come to. I walk with a scarf covering my mouth through the dimly lit catacombs of the faithful. The arched ceiling holds a dangling string of incandescent bulbs which cast a sickly yellow glow on my shoes and the cavities full of thighbones. “Why are all the bones the same,” I ask. The guide smiles. “Tens of thousands of heaven seekers wish to be buried here. There’s only so much room,” he said. “Even today people pay for holy ground.” Ghostly, armless, rib-less, headless, specters seem to rise un-braced, oh the indignity of it all. I picture them searching for the missing parts of themselves. I sneeze through my paisley scarf, stumble back; back, following the arrows in reverse, seeking the way out; just as frantically as they had sought the way in. The rest of the group trudges on; after all, they had paid their coin to Charon.
First Published in Inwood Indiana January 2014
Categories:
trudges, adventure, allusion, faith,
Form:
Prose Poetry
SONNET IN THE WIND
(The Archer)
Hark! What wind doth blow in yonder forest
Stirring the spirit of a long dead archer
In his endless search for the unwary doe
He stealthily lifts his bow – aiming hurriedly
His shot misses – his prey flees – frightened
Alas! He trudges onward – eyes peering intently
A huge buck with antlers like a tree
Suddenly looms on the horizon
He sniffs – testing the wind for signs
Is danger lurking near
The twang of the bowstring alerts his keen senses
He pivots swiftly – his white tail flashing
He bounds away – snorting contemptuously
The archer – stirred by the wind – is seeking still
Categories:
trudges, wind,
Form:
Sonnet
From ebon nights, that seem everlasting
In the land of the midnight sun
He trudges through the blizzards embrace
For miles he's the only one
To radiant rays from heavens glow
They set the sand ablaze
Steady accross the desert's peril
The meandering stranger strays
Upon the peaks , that pierce the clouds
A gasp of thinning air
Climbs with single minded will
To what though, he is not aware
Just soldiering on, He is soon to be gone
On a journey which has not yet begun
For he searches without, what he seeks is within
Forever the wandering one.
Categories:
trudges, adventure,
Form:
Rhyme
Bug Destiny
Round tiny bug moves slow along the garden path
Avoiding traffic as it trudges along
Carries the hardened armor of its ancestry
Down there too, through the centuries
The weight of that nobility
With it, on its back, through history
Portals of time laid out in its direction
Its lineage developed skills for battles
In darkened bitter caves
With aging somber rocks in far off lands
And along the seasoned shores
Over millions and billions of years
Ants search day and night for this small creature
Little round bugs are a staple on their menu
They will not rest until
This morsel is served up in honor of their queen
Solo insect as black as death
Stands by in armor ready
Ants take their forces onward against the drop of day
Their tiny march relentless, endless and grave
Black bug hunkers down in his encasing
Waiting In case bad things should happen
And to survive another day
The army attacks
Storms in on solo bug in stark surprise
With concise incisions ready
Sharp mandibles set to dissect it on the spot
Little bug has one last trick
It tastes of sour and stinky feet
The ants retreat defeated
Round bug makes its rounds about the garden gate
In its cultivated aged defense makes it to another day
Future generations will praise this day
That kept their kind alive
Depriving queen ant of a nasty meal
Of destinies surprise
Categories:
trudges, adventure, age, insect, nature,
Form:
Sestina