Best Typhoons Poems
O God of the universes of Creation as a whole
I raise my hands; and open my heart and soul.'
Prostrate I call upon your power, to bless my
Friends in these long dark hours' these days
Long abhorred stand now at their doors, I ask
You gird their spirits with strength; enlighten their
Minds that they drive hence' each evil time that
They may face, pray turn them into typhoons
That will remove each trace; those of fear, of doubt
and all false pride, beside them; I ask your power
Resides, of your angel throng assign to them
More than they ever need, these women and men.'
Andrea Deitrich Michael Tor Heidi sands Connie
Marcum Wong Judy Ball Bill Baker Robert Ligouri
Joseph May Harry Horseman Brother Jacob
Sally Eslinger Sara Kendrick Sam Kaufman Joe
Dimino Len Gasun Pangiota Romios James
Marshall Goff Billy the Kidster Vince Suzdail
Jnr Kim Rodriuges Beta Augustin Rob Carmac
Robert Lindley Brandy Nichole Laura Leiser
And last, but not least B J Legros Kelly '
Much Love to all.'
May they each put to flight any 5000 that come
Up against them in any honourable venture they
Embark upon, be that written spoken or intimated
May you be with them each one dear Lord in Jesus
Name with the Holy Spirit as witness.'
Wearing wireless headphones as I listen to the news.
I'm outside watching children playing, taking in the views.
There is screaming in my ears two voices disagree.
A little girl serves her playmates imaginary tea.
They're speaking on the pod, unarmed victims shot by police.
Captives tortured in war. I hear our own. I hear their pleas!
There's screaming in my ear a few voices disagree.
Little girls sitting pretend to speak French saying Oui, Oui!
There are typhoons hitting an island, reminds me of a tsunami.
Also officials gathering parts of a plane shot down by an army.
What happened to the plane that went missing, no one remembers.
Teenagers on the street play basketball great kids, great neighbors.
The president uses his pen, makes some politicians angry.
There is screaming in my ears so many voices disagree.
The girls skip rope, laughter fills the air and singing too.
Pundits discuss, argue this and that it's what they do.
Night and day is closer then these scholars and their degrees.
Theres screaming in my ear, voices, everyone disagrees.
The guys still shooting hoops, living the life, always polite.
Protests on the streets, the police display their might.
Some back peaceful protests others speak accusingly.
There is screaming in my ears, crowds of voices disagree.
I wave goodbye to the boys, we'll talk, I'll see them again soon.
The children want me to skip rope I play along like a buffoon.
They laugh that I can't skip properly. I leave them to their play.
There's screaming in my ear, voices...might as well talk to clay
My sleep will be hard, in the morning the sun will shine, children will wake.
What kind of world will we leave, you smile and laugh but feel like a fake.
Look how well we have done. When did we stop being one, being mild.
What happened to being cohesive? It takes a village to raise a child.
There is too much screaming in my ears, too many voices disagree.
I can only pray, lend my voice to the calm, hope we can all agree.
11~12~2014
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Cyndi MacMillan
Contest Name: I CAN'T BREATHE: A peaceful Protest, An Anthology of Powerful Poems
Trying to hide in conspicuous places
a night on the town in their false, plastic faces.
Sweetly they sweep through magnificent halls,
top-dollar galas and masquerade balls --
where always the wine is more bitter than sweet,
each girl wishing for love in her ruby-clad feet.
Perhaps scarecrows are thoughtful, and lions are brave,
and the tin-men know passion, such a boisterous parade
of hopeful young suitors, each waiting his chance
to find a young lady and win her last dance.
All tied up as prisoners with satin-silk chains
they listlessly dance as the hope from them drains.
A piano-man plinks only on the black keys:
pentatonic winds on a pentatonic breeze,
still not enough blowing to carry balloons
or to start raining houses from cyclic typhoons.
The evening draws on -- long beyond the moon’s rising,
a faint glinting of green from the city’s disguising
the envious looks in the eyes of the witches
and harsh threatening gales of the wind as it switches.
And no one is happy, none are finding their prize --
no one knows what they want, nor removes their disguise.
So the dancing is pointless, bravado is hollow
no wizardly magic can fix what will follow.
Shallow connections that lead nowhere, and quickly
the ballroom grows quiet, the witches grow prickly
the lions go fleeing, the scarecrows are clueless,
the tin-men don’t care, and that makes them the cruelest
For out in the public, among all the noise
some girls have gone missing -- and so have some boys
and in the dark shadows, all knew what occurred
but they whisper and gossip, and spread what they heard:
that it must have been mutual, it must be alright
they’re both grown adults, let’s not be so uptight.
And thus they all hide, in conspicuous places
enabling the culprits with false, plastic faces.
9/4/16
The Tempest
Upon enchanted sands of shipbreached shores
Dethroned beggar of a borrowed callow mystery
Heaves a lightning staff into the waves -
Thunderous and raw clandestine secrecy
On luminous swirling ariels sheering the celestial –
Into the curfew of castaway souls as a hoary appeal
Where storm surges loot delirium in foreboding typhoons
As rioting angels brood in their search
For the orphaned heart in tattered rags of upheaval.
Hear the muted tempest of dark depths roar
As wintered tantrums rock the shores
Leasing waves with unseen spells and charms,
Harnessing the tidal astrals in purifying
Tsunamis of holy risk –
Storm watch night, for souls in cataclysmic squalls,
Reshape the shallow shoals infected by deceit
Refresh the tidal pools emptied by betrayal
Now calm the ruffled gales -the shattered glassy sea,
Return from shipwrecked isle to fury abandoned shores.
11/3/2020
Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 6
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Inspired by Shakespeare’s The Tempest
Surrounded by tranquil turquoise waters,
Guarded on sides by oceans three,
In the east by the Pacific,
On the south by the Celebes Sea,
And on the west by the south China Sea,
There is an archipelago on the blue water crescent,
A group of islands, called Philippines,
Encircled by a girdle of gleaming silver,
With its shores of stretching sandy swell
That lulls the restless waves to sleep;
A land of green vegetation and terraced terrain!
It houses picturesque and breath-taking views.
Vast beaches of ivory sand sprawl before our eyes
Dolphins leap over seafoam, palm fronds wink
Soft breezes waft and cotton clouds float above.
Anyone will fall in love with these tiny strips of land,
Of rugged hills and meandering rivers
Of placid backwaters and blue skies
Of gibbering monkeys and celestial monarch birds,
Of strutting peacocks, pigeons, pheasants, and parrots.
The powdery white sand of Boracay
The Chocolate Hills of Bohol
The Caraballo Mountain ranges,
And the Cordillera Mountain chain of Luzon,
The Rice Terraces of Philippine Cordilleras
All these give the country a solemn investiture.
Volcanic peaks, standing mighty and tall,
Proudly line the landscape, dotted with dense forests
Where birds sing melodies and Tarsiers with bug eyes
The tiny primates, endemic to the Philippines roam and jump
Amid the slumbering hills, there is fecund soil,
Turned into orchards and plantations,
Its population with perseverance and patience
Work in the soil relentlessly and in unison.
Well known for their hospitality, they receive tourists,
And outsiders with warmth and camaraderie.
In this paradise of mixed fortunes, tragedy comes unforeseen,
In the form of natural calamities like typhoons and cyclones,
But nothing can tear the people apart and they prosper,
With resilience, bent on sustaining their tradition,
Adding value to it each day and proud of an identity of their own
This beautiful land of velvet waves and crystal sands
Lying as a pendant in a crescent of emerald cluster
Rightly deserves the title- the 'Pearl of the Orient'
If tormented truth is
the taste of her fire,
injecting her blood
with poisoned rain
in golden chalices,
what is the color of
eclipsed spheres
where there’s a
desolated darkness
that dwells through
devious spirits
to rise higher?
Maybe there’s no
heaven nor hell in
the onyx fields of
soulless stars,
where obsidian roses
bloom as signs of
the devil’s immortality,
crooning doomed
hymns to the
honeycomb hues
of raven's irises,
which reflect every
bitter dream painted
in strokes of thunder.
But when dusk
bleeds seas of deception,
sins stream through
sinister shadows,
slowly pulling innocence
to a chamber of pitiless
pins and heinous knives.
So watch her ascend
as the metaphorical mistress
of death and beyond,
she is no longer your
heretic queen
that serves you light,
that once breathed
and walked through
storms of toxic typhoons
cloaked in
summer serenades,
taming every hurricane
with her crystal wings
that never tethered
to an evil king of serpents.
Blank, silent sight, fretted the gods,
Nowhere in the horizon, a living thing abides;
Handfuls of soil, they carry in the air,
Poured as seeds ‘till a haven molds there.
Land of the Morning, Pearl of the Orient,
So called the Philippines, the name I am sent;
Seated in the east where the sun is dawning
Pride of the Pacific, as a lady ever shining.
Unlimited riches stretch beyond sight,
Vast oceans, boundless forests, plains are wide;
Flora and fauna of diversified species,
Plants, animals in a variety of faces.
Wet and dry – the nation goes through;
Brown and green – the Chocolate hills dress up too.
Her angry volcanoes constitute the ring; and typhoons, the belt;
A geographical fashion of calamity been made.
What makes her stunning that colors adore such?
Not her beauty, not Boracay, not that much…
But her people, the Filipinos, the key, the answer
Unlocking a treasure – a gem over waters.
Wrathful trilogy:
Typhoons, cyclones, hurricanes
Stern warning to Man!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
19 September 2018
* Super Typhoon Mangkhut, the strongest storm of the year, unleashed gusts up
to 200 mph while hurricane Florence brought 40 inches of rain. CNN.
Life will always be full of mysteries
If you are an inquisitive person
Forever searching for information
Everything referring to life and death
Science, history and biology
Murder, mayhem, magic, music and myth
You, me, them, those and other mysteries
Sun, moon, stars, satellites, sputniks and space
Typhoons, tornados, thunder and lightning
Everything in nature a mystery
Reptiles, roos, dinosaurs, fish, insects
Indigenous *****sapiens all
Evolution, religion and culture
Spectacles (Oh dear, I cannot find mine)
NOT WRITTEN FOR A CONTEST
I often write about the ocean's secrets,
of its crashing waves that roar in apogee
and the treasures it washes upon the shore.
I've verses founded on tales of sailor's lore.
Stanzas about fragile seashells and abalone
and of gulls noisily squawking in cacophony.
I've penned Sonnet filled with romantic notions
in which mermaids live in depths of oceans.
I wrote I'd found Atlantis beneath the waves,
and chests of gold and silver in a maze of caves.
I am always watching out for predatory sharks,
for in ocean waters, they are considered hierarchs.
I've claimed the sun cries when twilight is nigh.
When his day his done, he yawns his 'goodbye.'
I narrated epics of its tide, controlled by the moon,
and of sirens who lure men with a beguiling tune.
Poems tell of typhoons, caused by Neptune's hand,
and of shipwrecks, men and cargo strewn on sand.
The ocean beckons to me as I stand on the cliffs.
It speaks in the breakers. My thought often drifts
to how beautiful are the waters that God has made.
It covers most of Earth's surface with salty brine.
The magnitude of its power, I would dare not define.
Much is unknown about what lies beneath the deep
but all its secrets, it seems, the ocean intends to keep.
The Earth is angry
Air combined with water
Wind combined with earth
creates destruction and fear
Many have suffered in our past
we have always been at war
some wars so Evil , we try and forget
never forgotten , Imprints stamped on hand ~
History does repeat no doubt
this time the war is something different
Land , women , money , creed , race , is not what this War is about .
We have been abusing our gift of Nature for too long now.
Fighting Earth , Water , Fire and Air
that is our War now, worse then all combined before us
This War has no mercy, like the many before, men have sacrificed themselves for.
This War is taking its Count , "Earth , Water , Fire and Air "
Tornados, Tsunamis, Earthquakes, Typhoons , Evolution ..
how many lives will be given , before she lay still ?
There she sits, ready to fly, to be free and take sail
A beautiful ship, the love of my life, The Anne Marie Gale
Ready to take on the harshest storms, the hurricanes
The darkness and the rain, typhoons, and all the pain
She sails off, leaving me behind, lost forever in vain
I watch you slip away, my beautiful Anne Marie Gale
When you were once here, in the harbors of my heart
Set off to sail, and to take the wind, as I watch you part
You are a beauty, an angel, sails are your wings of the sea,
where behind your veil, You look out ahead, and see
all your flags are flying, your sails of pearls are furled
On your mast your colors, are waving you on to your destiny
Here you took my heart, and now you are taking the world
Leaving me a shallow old man, to cry alone and wail
Where have I gone? Lost in time, with The Anne Marie Gale
Will you return someday? And return to a place once home?
Where I stand at the oceans’ edge in the waves, sand and foam
I watch from the light houses, and islands, their tallest towers
Waiting your return, counting each day, each second, each hour
I feel the wind and rain pour through my veins, ripping my soul
Taking my heart to the depths, into the end of times final hours
where I cannot not escape, nor do I dare let go the ropes holding me
Binds me, keeping me tied forever a knot, only time unfolding me
Soon the winds of a gale will take me, and my strength will soon fail
As I wait out my life in wonder of the beautiful Anne Marie Gale
Do you ever remember me from your heart? See me through the veil?
Or are you set free by your sails forever with the winds and gales?
That take you into the adventures you seek, of The Anne Marie Gale
A beautiful clipper, built from the heart of my woods, and of golden rails
The storms of my heart, a gold jewel of the sea, the wind in your sail
Forever I will be a ghost aboard the pure heart of the Anne Marie Gale,
Long ago in the short-time lively spring
In the grassy plains of a small island
Came from nonexistence a young sapling
Nurtured by the love of her mother’s hand
The world accepted her newfound nascence
Fueling her a love for joyfulness
Beaming out from the depths of her bright heart
A Happiness no being could contest.
With the blessings from the sapient world,
She quickly discovered a lifelong friend.
His solicitude for her unbounded,
They were surely a match made in heaven
They always walked together as one,
Carrying each other through life’s sojourn
Truly did the love between them abound
But all good times must arrive at an end
Her childhood soon sped by before her eyes
The novelty of memorable times
Fading into the dark depths of her mind
Pleasant memories like leaves in the wind
Her transition into adulthood near,
Deep concern for her friend’s future life flare
Taking no heed of her own life troubles,
She does what she can to help him succeed
At the zenith of springtime season’s bloom
She invited her dear friend to a club
A group of three girls all connected by
Their adoration of books and poems
It pleased her heart greatly to see her friend
Forming and bonding with new companions
Yet, unknown feelings of jealousy formed
As her indulgent desire for him grew
Like the swirling typhoons of the oceans,
The tsunamis that wash away cities,
Doubt flooded into her mentality
Confusing thoughts fogged rationality
She bottled up her true feelings tightly
Suppressed the complex emotions duly
Only ever showing her happy side
Wishing to see no concern from her friend
Each passing moment spent in the classroom
Watching his relationships with others
Deepening, evolving, and ascending
Left loneliness to consume her insides
For three days she tried hiding her sorrow
No longer could she veil her emotions
Despite her friend’s kind attempts to console
He only shatters her heart into shards
The following day, lying in her bed,
She looks up at her room’s ceiling and thinks
“Why get out of bed? Why am I still here?”
She recalls her friend, breaking into tears
That day, Sayori never came to school
Leaving her friend worried and bewildered.
In his concern, he traveled to her house
Only to find her hanging by the noose
Soldiers in the line of fire,
we're mic for hire,
we're for the cash or die
so all kneel to the poetic sire,
It's the black king from the goddess
plantin' cash seeds in the garden of loot,
It's the moment of truth,
My voice is like a volcanic box of chatter,
Poetry tracks will stab ya' like daggers,
My words scatter like when blood splatters,
As I unveil my wisdom & remedies,
My human acts & energies tend to be,
The formulas for your life & deaths proximity,
I'm mic for hire,
Spectators kneel & scream sire,
Trumpets get blown
As I spread my message like a town crier,
It's the arrival of the buffalo soldier,
You seized up in the RHYME PEDDLA'Z culture,
Fumes from my vocal box will choke ya',
As i drop poetic rain throughout your village,
And spillage from my mind damn creates a pillage,
For cash flow,
To the non-believers I slash throats and bag foes,
I'm equivalent to spontaneous combustion
When I splash quotes,
In verbal warfare, I'm psycotic and I don't frolic,
With my melodic manuscripts to leave your brain spotted,
With my symbol,
My mind runs fugitive like Richard Kimball,
360 degrees from my left temple back to my left temple,
I spit cerebral typhoons,
Spoken words and hype tunes,
Will penetrate your system
Leaving deep traces of mic wounds,
Which will reconstruct your eardrums,
I fears none but GOD the almighty big one,
A shot of cognac be my serum I need a swig son,
While i'm deep inside the trenches, relentless,
Trying to keep my adversaries hintless,
Many die quick, hard & centless,
Tryin' to phathom,
The magnectic lyrical orgasms,
From the dark skin grizzly adams
Summer season was my childhood’s greatest fun time,
We played with toys out of a coconut tree which is a tree of life,
We built little houses beautifully and so high as we climbed
Like a flying trapeze on its leaves, we swung so high.
We played with toys made of coconut trees, the tree of life,
My playmates joined me in building little houses using a dull knife,
Out of its leaves and midribs, we made walls, roofs and doors,
Pretended as good cooks with its coconut shells and fruits.
My playmates joined me in building little houses using a dull knife
Pretended to live together as families with husband and wife,
I took the role of an elder sister in our little comfortable house
I combed the hair of a younger sibling with a coco midrib brush.
Pretended to live together as families with a husband and wife
Just like small neighborhood or community along the riverside
We chose one of the eldest playmates to be the group captain,
The leader of unity and cooperation in building more tents.
Just like small neighborhood or community along the riverside
We helped one another as piles of coco leaves we made as rides,
We made unique toys out of leaves and roots as much as we could
Like trumpets when blown, we covered our ears for its loud sound.
We helped one another as piles of coco leaves we made as a ride
We webbed balls, insects and other toys for a surprise to hide,
When the captain signaled to show who's the most had a reward
Then ran with our wind vanes to the beach and marched forward.
We webbed balls, insects and other toys for a surprise to hide
We played with toys out of a coconut tree which is a tree of life,
When the captain signaled us to show the most had a reward
A wonderful summer memory from a Tree of Life I've ever had!
Sept. 11,2012
Note: The coconut trees are considered the “Trees of Life”. They can provide almost all the things we need like shelter, clothing, foods and others. So, let us preserve coconut trees! They are very helpful but be careful because they are also risky during typhoons, LOL. There are many coconut trees in our backyard especially along the riverside connecting to the beach. These trees had added so much joy on summer time during my childhood years/graders.