Best Vaulting Poems
Love of truth
the very light of Greece
A peninsula thrust out
like a bony hand,
‘God-tormented Greece,’
Zeus exclaimed,
“I shall give man ‘an evil,’ as the price of fire:
They will clasp destruction with laughter of desire.”
The Gods live on-even though obscure.
Fate rules them too, as Zeus learns
the heroes must die; and the greater
the heroism the earlier the death.
Greece being, itself so divided
between the rational and irrational,
between logic and instinct,
between the scientific and the magical,
between the state of self possession
and that of being possessed,
and one can continue……
between symmetry and diversity,
between the recognition of limits
and the pursuit of the limitless,
between restraint and vaulting ambitions,
or hubris, Pythagoras in all his wisdom
could achieve no resolution or harmonia.
Of all these diverse elements, what was
greatest in him, and in Greece,
was the recognition of these conflicts
for what they were…….
that by grappling with them
a better order in life might then arise.
She will rise from the water, in the midday afternoon
Lightly vaulting from darkness and a bright diamond throne
Splashing forth as a fountain, spilling colors of gold
Wearing combs made of seashells, from deep in the cold
She has no tongue, she has no tears
She had no clothes, will mystically appear
No need for air, her hair is fair
Her eyes are clear of unfound love
She is a siren, she is an angel, she is a myth, for many seasons
Is she real, or apparition…, do we see her for a reason?
A stretched out long tail, on bed of kelp-strewn sand
Soaking up the sun rays, to dry golden strands
She bewitches with amusement
While the darting fish play games
She is not just illusion, has no given name
She's a vision from the past, speaks the language of forgetting
Her repertoire of movement, and exquisite, agile form
A creature bathed in mystery, wears pearls of wet adorn
Ever mindful of the music, human splashing rage of oars
And the chorused voice, and shouting force gale winds that blow from shore
She shuts her dimming eyes, where sun will never be...
And dives back to the purple twilight,
And the freedom of the sea
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Open aired and pastel pillared, vaulting the ceiling;
This bye to Paradise; & illuminating vision:)
Stand in-violate, in golden tones, in orange hues
in glowing aqua, do you colour my view,
The mark of Heavens promise, on earth:)
Expanding in an instant; you beam of Gods mirth.
A schism In prism; here ever to bloom,
Fresh from the Masters hand on the loom.!
copyright Joe Mavrick.co.uk
For P D's Rainbows contest:)
You can click to know more about this piece, thank you Joe..)
This is a true story- no names have been changed to protect the idiot........
Nb- * - a car bonnet is a hood in the United states.
** - censored.
On my way back from the pub
(since real ale is my passion)
slowly wending my way home
in a wibbly-wobbly fashion
in the road sat something small-
I almost passed it by,
camouflaged in darkness
by a cloudy moonless sky.
I could tell it was a Hedgehog
simply by it's silhouette,
and if it didn't move real soon
would get squashed flat, I'll bet.
Just then a hundred yards away
a pair of lights appeared
heading our way at a pace
exactly as I'd feared.
Instinct kicked in, and out I leapt
to the middle of the road
waving my arms frantically as
I switched to 'Hero' mode.
He hit the brakes just feet away
and wound his window down
"get out the way, you Prat!" he yelled
but I just pointed down, and said
"Hedgehog!!" (which he couldn't see,
his bonnet* was in the way),
"Just hang on while I shift it, mate"
was all that I could say.
So, bending down to rescue it
still sat between my feet
my heart sank as I focussed in
then finally missed a beat.
The Hedgehog I had risked my life
to save it by removing
was, in fact, from off a washing machine
a piece of rubber tubing.
Not wishing too look foolish
I just hid it with my sleeves
and slowly walked off to the kerb,
the car began to leave.
Angrily into the air I kicked the pipe before me,
a big mistake- in his rear view mirror
the car driver he saw me,
and hit the brakes, then jumped out yelling
( I remember, although quite plastered)
"That's cruelty to an animal! Come here, you heartless person** !
In hot pursuit back up the road
he came- the chase was on,
I wasn't going to hang about, in seconds I was gone,
vaulting over garden walls and dodging through the gates
then out of breath I hid myself, till he had gone, I'd wait.
Mud splattered with my trousers torn I reached home, panic over,
the ordeal I'd just been through was a great way to get sober.
So next time wildlife is in peril, maybe I won't hurry,
I'll carry on and stagger home-
let Mother Nature worry.
This simple tree...
Her branches a
Tree Clef staff for song
birds.
Her canopy a trapeze for these
squiggles, these squirrels.
This simple tree...
Her trunk a temple;
a spire to Heaven.
Her bark a canvas
for Northern moss.
This simple tree...
Her roots a roof
to burrowing beasts.
Her leaves a beetle's
green lunch munched.
This simple tree...
Her shade a cooling
respite for a
thousand forms.
This simple tree...
a welcome respite
for a thousand
flapping forms
from a thousand
Wint'ring grounds.
This simple tree...
whose vaulting arch,
itself a royal crown...
whose lyric swaying,
showing unseen winds...
whose quiet patience,
teaches eons, teaches time...
whose singular sangha
is a lone unalone story,
befriended and borrowed,
by all that live.
This simple tree...
husher of poets.
This simple tree.
Soar over black earth birds won’t dare,
But flocks of bullets streak the air.
When rains on spring horizons loom,
Wreaths of shrapnel shall be in bloom.
Where I’m going, gods shall despair.
Wraiths of smoke will usurp the sky,
Mottle light where clouds nestled high,
Clods feud-flung into vaulting flights,
Soil memories of long-gone kites,
Smear winds by dandelions plied.
Where blood and sympathy are shed,
And in vain love with hatred pled,
I’ll serve a purpose no one knows,
When we march beneath burning coals
By a long patchwork sunset bled.
Olympic stuff ain’t easy
I’ve false started many times
At the traffic lights
At meal times
Conversations in the office lounge area
And other events I’d rather not mention
Alright go on then
Let me fill you in
At McDonald’s
At the flipping birds
At peristerophobia
At the park
Pole vaulting is not a dangerous sport
But the internet has told me
Even though a pole requires
A hefty investment
It is necessary
I am an elephant or Republican I think
After a couple of drinks
If memory serves me I'm pink
When not frolicking on the savanna
Pushing down trees for a snack
I work in a circus act
This place smells like a zoo
I'm getting too old and put on some pounds
It is hard to climb trees these days
Or ladders to success
Pole vaulting is out of the question
Circus food sucks
They say you are what you eat
I must be very tiny from the stuff that they feed me
Peanuts are very nutritious but small
My keepers want to keep me lean
They think that I'm stupid and make fun of my feet
If they are small than something else must be small
Accusing me of peeing myself on stage is the last straw
They say my brain is the size of the food that I eat also
I'm sick of them too
Vegetables and fruits are delirious…. or is it delicious
I forget how I got in this circus zoo mess
Why do I have a big E on the pajamas
Perhaps to identify me while in bed
Or to avoid common confusion with them
I know you think that I wrote it myself
But my feet are too large for that
Someone must have printed it
A political party perhaps
If you ask me what I think
The elephant in the room not called Trump is me
Today, I was missed by a bullet
fired by a sniper in Syria,
a runaway train 10,000 miles from it,
and every swing of the
Grim Reaper’s scythe in between.
A repeat of so many days
of good coincidences.
Life is but an accident of time and geography,
we the beneficiaries of a random amnesty.
Tomorrow, I shall rise
and raise song unto the vaulting blue
for my privilege of sun.
(8/12/12)
We are gathered here together
To make this world better.
Athletes from every nation
Participating in this celebration.
Everyone with a goal in mind
To leave their mark at this time.
It mattered not if it was swimming
Pole vaulting , running ,volley ball
In the water or on the land
They was there to take a stand.
Then I stop and think and in complete awe
How this world gets together to reach a score.
All problems are forgotten at this particular time
As they cross the finish line.
If we can do this for this short spell
Then we should send these problems
All to hell.
Many walked away with smiles on their faces
And some with tears in their eyes , and not
Because they didn’t try.
The OLYMPICS come every four years
And they start training at a very young age
Just so they could climb up that two foot step
So that a judge can put a medal around their neck.
They do this for their own gratification
And to be honored by their nation.
To feel the joy that this event brings
Just like a ball player who gets that ring.
I salute you one and all -you have reason to stand tall.
Lately, in my dreams
I'm doing backflips
On trampolines
Vaulting higher than high
Bouncing off
The springy sky
Free from gravity
Of worry
As the ground
Falls off my feet
I careen
To the beat
Of tambourines
Tail lashing
Lavender flashing
Pom-pom sized
Orange eyes
I'm as free
As I want to be
Lately, in my dreams.
5/08/19
Entered in 'Dial It Back' contest
Judged 6/5/19
Bonny by boat
The skater did at the break of dawn
Commence her rhythm-less glide
Down her south-easterly meandering rink-
Not on ice; cold and hard,
But, on a brackish, salty, watery waste
Eyeless spectators flanked the course
Blindly staring on in silent cheer
Waving their branches and their leaves
Side to side and back and forth;
Rhythmic dance to the whims of the wind
Minutes, into an hour ticked by
A fish or two, time after time
launched out, like Olympic jumpers
vaulting over imaginary bars
And disappearing in a trail of ripples
Painted canvas unwound from a reel
A scenic movie before stationary eyes
Or was the landscape still, and our eyes did rove,
As we transitioned from the jetty,
Journeying from Port Harcourt to Bonny?
.
Where does your early morning
breath
rise
or have descent
or vaporize
Who can vaunt
vaulting
this vast vat
which even
in
rainbows
i did see
Ghost Of My Ghost, A Much Safer Me
Ghost of my ghost, a much safer me
hiding in shadow's deepest holes.
No more fighting, I just let it be
gifting me my vaulting poles!
Heart of my heart, a calmer grace
resting within a learning soul.
The memory of her touch and face
yet again made my life whole!
Spirit within spirit, embraces life
key found to that golden gate.
Healed are cuts from an evil knife
released from chains of hate!
Solace within solace, glows with dreams
basking in a Springtime sun.
Walking in cool, clear flowing streams
with joy never to be undone!
R.J. Lindley
Nov 16th, 1990
In the twilight,
Eilat, seems deserted, some Antofagasta,
Chile's North, before my eyes.
Bordering Jordan not far, there,
where the hills are tinted in blueish-grey,
at the horizon.
A solitary shadow, grey,
the harbour of Aqaba.
Small, distant houses,
scarcely illuminated by a
fading sun.
Some ships in the harbour,
towed side by side like toys.
I am crossing the plains,
some Macchia, some dry thornes,
and a firm sand, giving way to my footprints.
The border: barbed-wire,
sandy hills, a water drench,
with reed growing
in mouldy water.
Here a snake, there a coot,
some water-wagtails – and I,
the only silent creatures.
I scarcely leave any tracks in the sand.
Brilliant, crystals of salt in the
ridges, underneath, slippery, some soil.
I walk over cracked loam,
which is vaulting in edges,
flying off.
It crunches, when I cross it.
High above three planes
circle like big cranes in the evening sun,
flying close to the border.
Wind thrives through the reed,
which is respectfully bending.
There, to the left, an artificial hill,
a plateau, bolders, grey, arranged in a
triangle, and above, Israel's banner,
blue-white, the star of David
with colours already fading and -
some barbed-whire,
carelessly floating in the
wind.
Ahead of me a snake is sneaking off.
A water-wagtail not able to fly
is resting in my hands.
It is good to feel nature,
to inhale silence, to seem unreal,
slowly disappearing in the dark,
like the surrounding nature.
Night brakes slowly now,
with the cool wind from the North.
Stars, like shiny needles in the darkness
piercing the sky, covering me in silence.
My dreams are drifting,
yet caught in the past.