Best Tugged Poems
Here I sit amongst the long grasses and the reed,
in a solitary place, where my breath is freed,
on an Indian Summer's evening on the lake bed,
autumn has come, yet the warmth has not fled.
Blazing orange skies, are mirrored to reflect,
I cannot imagine a scene being any more perfect,
as I looked up, an unfallen leaf caught my gaze,
spotlighted in the sun's last golden rays.
I noticed this crimson leaf as it began to wave,
the end of a short life that I could not save,
then swept away suddenly by the wind's rake,
and ripples formed as it landed on the still lake.
The leaf was carried away and my eyes followed,
then drowned by the water's surface and swallowed,
windy fingertips tugged it from the branch to sever,
existing once, like today, and then was gone forever.
Note - This was my original idea for the poem "The leaf",
but it was revised for a contest. I just wanted to post both
versions of the poem.
Categories:
tugged, autumn, nature, sky, summer,
Form:
Rhyme
When it left the Arctic it was as a wild angry wind
that stormed its way across the ice bound Arctic ocean.
Blowing the snow clad icebergs and whipping up the ocean.
As it crossed Alaska and into Canada it had gentled
now it played games with leaves and softly kissed flowers.
Gaily it soared over the Rockies and tugged goats beards
causing them to shake their heads and stamp their feet.
In Playful mood it swept on hugging the coast awhile
then veering inland, it travels the plains and grows in strength
turning into a raging tornado causing havoc as it passes.
Moving ever southward it basks in now warm sunshine
and skips over the gulf of Mexico filling yachts sails.
Deep down in South America it turns into a wild fury that
uproots trees snapping them in half like matchsticks,
Then onward once more dancing past the Falkland islands.
Its destiny is now in sight and with triumphant roar
it rushes on over the Antarctic ocean and slides up
the icy barrier then screams its way across the tundra
yet slowly it loses its power and as it reaches the incline
this moody wind fades away until with final breath it dies.
Categories:
tugged, nature, wind,
Form:
Personification
Away up north where it’s snowing they say
the elves are preparing for Christmas day.
Big elves little elves, busier than bees
All building toys, for under Christmas trees.
Some work with hammers others building bikes,
some riding through the room on brand new trikes.
Tiny elf voices ringing loud and clear,
everyone’s full of love and Christmas cheer.
Suddenly the chatter stops; all are still,
Santa walked in the room with book and quill.
Looking down at his book, Santa Clause stared,
then lifted his eyebrows as he declared,
Today I looked inside my books
and I found that we are ahead,
and thought because you worked so hard
we shall all go outside instead.
Misses Claus made lots of sweet treats
so let’s all eat and be hearty,
for today here at the North Pole
all elves shall have a snow party.
Quick as a wink the elves they disappeared,
Santa just smiled as he tugged at his beard.
Laughing he watched his little friends scatter
and soon the mountains echoed with laughter.
Snowballs were flying, snowmen taking form,
and hot chocolate kept little elves warm.
They were sledding, skiing, skating all day,
see, elves aren’t simply, all work and no play.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
11.29.2014
Contest: Children’s Christmas or Holiday Tale
1st place
Categories:
tugged, adventure, celebration, christmas, fantasy,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Another year has come - chillingly -
and more chillingly for me than in decades heretofore.
I watch it ranting from my window as I recall. . . .
The year already past had tugged me from those tame and toasty days
when I lay face up to sun
dreaming that my summer would never end.
It brought me to this winter when it withered up and died,
but half a century and more of memories
had fallen for me by now.
Like pretty crystal flakes they fell, drifting through my mind -
places, events and people.
Oh, those people I looked up to in my youth -
fallen as the snow!
How many pretty snow flakes have melted now away?
Only my memories of them remain. . .
memories now piled up like snowdrifts in my brain.
Yes, the newborn year has arrived.
Just one month old and already, it has lost its crawl.
This infant’s aging process parallels, on the larger scale,
that fleeting span of time known as life -
a time that all the living undergo.
The new year carries on (as must we all) to soon complete its cycle.
Let it bluster. Let it wail. Let it rattle at my door,
for soon enough, all signs of it will cease.
Written 2/12/11
Now used for 'A STRAND (1061)' Poetry Contest
Categories:
tugged, me, new year, time,
Form:
Free verse
Place parsed pennies, purposely upon pretty porcelain palms.
The wanderer, restrained her raised ranting wrists!
She fell to her Humpty Dumpty position,
unable to ever be put back together again...
Each of us witnessed her fall,
yet we failed to gather those colourful leaves.
I believe we could have laid them at the base of her wall.
She sees the trees as he increases her diseases.
Deepening predatory penetrations as he pleases!
Cracking, fracking, hating, taking, and breaking.
Bringing about disappearing, as pain stains, her shamed awakening!
If we could have, would we have, mournfully watched?
Or instead, would we have held her wrists,
pulled at reddened panties, excruciated her sufferings?
Instead, we placated horrific tugged observations,
waited, pretended to see nothing,
drank our mocha-chino from starry cups!
we sat and licked our lips to the calming sound of muzak,
preferring voyeuristic aristocracy.
Oh how she cursed his kissing and biting,
the sucking of her Texan black gold!
All the while he praised her caged loins,
filling a billion barrels with her oil...
Until the time her flame set fire to his cursed wanting!
Until she summoned the winds from the east.
It was time to birth the spawn of his treachery.
Lava poured forth from mountainous risings!
He must suckle upon her displeasure,
until like creosol, his noxious presence,
combines with his own wasted wood.
Thus preserving his monumental failures,
encasing them within layers of his strangled death!
A voice called out from the West, "Where is the foolish man?
Who is left to sing about his great accomplishments?
His peculiar monuments have been laid to waste,
not a single brick remains in it's place."
No one is left to excavate the woeful forgotten.
She "Mother" seeps into the soil to reclaim his blood,
her womb is once again fertile.
She asks "Do we wish to begin again?"
The start of a great pause stings her ears!
She looks and understands,
"It is no longer good.”
Categories:
tugged, abuse, anxiety,
Form:
Narrative
as a child,
I perceived
the wonderment
of Clouds.
and elders
likewise contemplated
the curious celebrity of them
the solemnity of shape-shifting skyships
their charity of rain:
encouraging fruit
greening hills
irrigating joys
keeping
watch
around the earth
in as enviable
a perch
as the risen sun
or mystic moon
that guides tides.
sun runs
apace
moon whisks
its baton away
but Clouds
stay high,
perpetual
imprints
covering Space and Time.
Could
Clouds
be God's eyes?
***
when I was
-abecedarian-
counting from one to three,
I licked my lips
at Clouds
reckoning
I'd catch them
like docile butterflies,
and discern the flavors of miracle floss:
must be rose-white sugar
some barley flour
lamb's fleece and goose feathers
the elders, lofty and wise,
disparaged my foolish games.
I tugged
on the edge of their mountainous faces:
wispy chins
transient strands
billowy beards
closest clouds
I'd seen
Proximal nimbi
and their dust trail
of ginger, onion, and clove
pulled pork, frizzled cod, light ashtray
lingered...
I caught
those crazy hairs
so hard
candy-coated
raindrops
fell!
Categories:
tugged, appreciation, growing up, hope,
Form:
Light Verse
Dad had threatened for some time, to reclaim the land behind the shed,
where rubbish over many years, had stockpiled but now instead
of being easy to be shifted, blackberries, docks and thistles grow,
entwining history of ours… and you know we didn’t know.
Mum cracked the whip one Sunday, handing out the different tools
for us to shovel, fork, pick and slash; of course she made the rules.
We weren’t to stop until the rubbish, had been cleared and left to show
a barren space to be landscaped… and you know we didn’t know.
Johnny parked the truck close to where we’d easily load the tray.
First we had to slash blackberries, to open up a pathway.
Old fencing wire and bent droppers, we pulled and tugged. The work was slow.
Plus bits of motors, old oil filters… and still we didn’t know.
The ‘Old Man’ knocked a stump out I can’t remember being a tree,
it disintegrated into pieces; white ant workings I could see.
Plastic pots and old fuel drums, onto the tray we heave and throw.
Just on half the plots been cleaned up now… and still we didn’t know.
A concrete trough and a mattress spring, mesh from an old birdcage.
A kitchen sink broken in two and a pushbike at some stage.
Sardine tins, a barrow bowl, and a seized up mower that won’t mow,
now there’s just one corner left to clean… and still we didn’t know.
A stack of roofing iron near the fence; the last that had to go.
One by one we dragged the rusting sheets… and still we didn’t know.
Dad picked up the final sheet, and then he quickly threw it down again.
His face was white and ‘cripes’ he shook… we ‘bloody-well’ knew then.
Categories:
tugged, family, farm,
Form:
Rhyme
A cord had been stretched, from our hearts to the moon
across foolish years, to a life far beyond
It coiled around a chair, down the hall, past the door,
that were groomed by the light of a bright afternoon
I was floating on the sea of cold hardwood
Prone on my back, on a lavender rug
Examining the nail of my left-hand thumb
with a phone at my ear, and faith in the unknown
You had aced your exams, now we were making our plans,
only tied to a kiss, by a small ivory phone
With a ring on my finger, that would bind foolish hearts,
that were blinded by love, without worry or fear
Invitations were mailed, a church was on hold
There was a cake made to order, and a world unexplored
You were glued to my ear, I was wrapped by a thread
that tugged on my heart by a long-distance word
The light from the yard was scored by the blinds
but, there on the floor, our world was sublime
I was bound by a cord that tethered all time
To a life yet to live, but together we'd find
I was linked to your voice, by a young foolish heart
While I sailed on a sea to a lavender star
____________________________
Submitted to "My Foolish Heart" contest: Feb-2021
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
_______________________________________
Categories:
tugged, husband, lonely, love, marriage,
Form:
Free verse
Our friends invited us to their farm,
And were introduced to Tony
Their pony, who had delectable charm,
On his forehead was a star,
Which I noticed from afar,
He had already spotted spotted me,
From way beyond the cedar tree.
He stole my heart,
Right from the start,
He seemed incredibly tame,
Wanting to play a game,
I was advised not to touch
Him too much,
Lest he bite
And give me a fright,
But sure, it was furthest from his mind,
For he looked adorable and so kind.
He gently nuzzled into my hand,
As his hooves kicked
And sprayed up sand,
He was such a soothing sight,
Was sure I'd dream of him tonight.
Was also advised not to give him food,
But could see he was eying my apple,
And in the mood,
For a tasty munch,
I gave it to him, and he finished
It with a loud crunch.
Sunday arrived, it was time to leave,
Tony ever so slightly, tugged
At my cardigan sleeve,
We fondly looked at one another,
Though we had never known each other.
Tony, I said, whilst stroking his nose,
He stood beside me ever so close,
I hear you are soon to be a dad,
You must feel very proud and glad,
I'm sure you and your lady
Will adore your baby foal
Who will steal your heart,
As you did mine from the start.
Categories:
tugged, baby, farm, horse,
Form:
Rhyme
Strewn by knitted spines and a tail,
with ribbons on its hair, bright flowing
visions hover along an azure sky. Gracefully,
the flight takes a diamond shape as if to roam
away in some twirling prance. And as it slowly faded
from sight, the little boy on the beach giggled
and tugged the braided loop calling his paper wing,
“ Come back; I’ll have to pull you in.” But it waved on
like an entranced sail kissing the clouds; till near dusk
marked the rising moon…quietly, he rested on the sand
to gaze at the breezy sky again; this time a bit aware
the kite he handmade and loved won’t come back…
for it is up above where its home belongs.
~
New Year Premiere Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
tugged, childhood, me, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse
Her beam on the waves in fear
And wash the dusk with silver tear
And tugged it from her deep emotions
What matter to her is their colored motions
A broken world`s blood hits the ground
Water splash and river dashing down
Will peace restored again
The truth of life ~ Amen
28.09.2015 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Categories:
tugged, pain, world,
Form:
Rhyme
Perfection's never something,
You can capture oh so well.
But her beauty burned like gazing,
At the fires that burn in Hell.
And people they would beg of her,
"Let me capture you in photograph."
But with beauty that was so obscure,
She'd always turn and laugh.
She woke up every morning,
But this was a different one.
Called an artist that was yearning,
"We can do this just for fun."
She stained her lips with rose.
Painted her cheeks in the fairest rouge.
Slipped ballet flats upon her toes.
And in her sundress she found refuge.
The amateur had no say,
She had planned the perfect spot.
She whispered, "I'll lead the way."
A small price to pay to get the perfect shot.
Her movements were so delicate,
It's as if they were devised.
She used a subtle hand wave to indicate,
That they had finally arrived.
You would think you'd see a castle,
Or maybe a field of green.
But this enviroment was quite the hassle,
Maybe her sense of taste wasn't keen.
She thrusted weeds away,
Steering clear of twigs and rocks.
The warm wind made her sundress sway,
And softly tousled her gold locks.
Upon a bridge she advanced,
The planks began to creak.
The water below her danced,
And sunset began to peak.
She lifted her legs with elegance,
And supported herself with a beam.
The photographer shuttered in benevolence,
But followed along with this dangerous scheme.
It's as if the camera was under a spell;
As beneath the bridge, waves violentally lashed.
She threw her arms out and willingly fell,
As the light grew bright and flashed.
The tides pulled tight around her.
They made her twirl and spin.
And the camera man swore,
she smiled as they tugged her in.
Perfection's not that fluent.
Not something you can capture oh so well.
But now we have a picture here to prove it,
As the waves dragged her to Hell.
.
Categories:
tugged, death, life, loss, sadbeauty,
Form:
Rhyme
My sister likes to doodle
I thought she drew a noodle
She gave me a glare
And tugged at my hair
And told me t'was a poodle.
Categories:
tugged, art, dog, food, sister,
Form:
Limerick
The busy Moon forgot about the Tide.
She left it out all day upon the sand.
And when it found itself alone topside,
there mischief was immediately at hand.
It washed the muddy Rocks until they shone,
then dragged in trash to mess them up again,
it chilled the chubby babies to the bone
and tugged their pudgy feet to pull them in.
It rearranged the peaceful ocean floor
and wrapped the kelp into a tangled wreath,
then turned up all the driftwood on the shore
and tickled every creature underneath.
It tricked the Fishermen it came across
by pulling at the lines they'd cast about,
took cages that it saw the Trappers toss
and let the little Crabs and Lobsters out.
It fooled with every Fish that floated by,
it sprayed the Seagulls when they flew too near,
it pooled in spots it KNEW the Sun liked dry
and played with all the boats along the pier.
It sueezed the baby Squid until they laughed
then painted funny pictures with their ink
and after it had taught them all this craft,
it swirled away like water down a sink.
It called to Clouds that hung around the sky
and asked to meet them halfway in between
then teased them until they began to cry
but just to make it rain, not to be mean...
The Tide adored its mischief and it would
have gleefully continued on its spree
but for the Moon, who for the greater good,
came up at last and let it out to sea!
Categories:
tugged, beach, children, freedom, moon,
Form:
Rhyme
Wintry night, the clouds were churning
While the lightning lit the sky
The old house it shook and trembled
As the howling wind went by.
I put out the waning candle
Total darkness all around
It felt cold, in bed I snuggled
Heard the thunder’s drawling sound.
It took ages till I drifted
Into rough and restless sleep
When at once I felt me falling
Down a tunnel deep and steep.
Chilly hands wrapped tight around me
Felt the breathing of a ghost;
In a daze it tugged and led me
To the open ragged coast.
Had no strength or will to struggle
The cold water dragged me down
Uncontrolled the helpless feeling
Of a man about to drown.
Then I woke all of a sudden
And I saw the dawning light
Found myself all wet and sweaty
From the dream I had that night.
So relieved! I felt elated.
What an ugly fright I’d had.
Then I looked and saw beside me
Soaking seaweed on the bed!!
-------------------------------------------
23rd October 2014
Contest: Ghosts Stories
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Placed: 4th
Categories:
tugged, fear, sleep,
Form:
Quatrain