Best Vigour Poems
All you do
All you say
All you write
In the jasmine garden
Is a frenzied drum
Bludgeoning me to dumb
Intensely numb
I feel
As I reel
Yes
As you come
Rising on tides
Passion overflowing
Deluge in the veins
In a hurricane
You dominate
You violate
You annihilate
My stability
My balance
My tranquility
My nonchalance
You seek to
Sweep me off my feet
I resist
To be devastatingly kissed
Who does want
A plundered restaurant
I hold breath
But you hit underneath
With your tremendous vigour
A wild rigour
Breaking all norm
Of rhythm and form
You become
The fierce Atlantic storm
From head to toe
Fast or slow
Everything you claim
You monster hurricane
In a primitive joy
You destroy
Spears and arrows you employ
Pull down and enjoy
In a poor coordination
I reach my limitation
And surrender
Before your violence
And horror
Frantically you tear
All the roses there
The tendrils of hair
The hymns of prayer
Whether in Florida
Or in Miami
Riding on reckless liberty
Everywhere the same misery
Either Katrina or Irene
Harvey or Irma
The same surging ocean
The same commotion
You flood me with
I groan beneath
I have to writhe
And wriggle as fiercely you breathe
Well now as you are quieted
Having deconstructed
All my emotions
Are now back to the ocean
Give me your resilience
The ocean’s brilliance
Let me reconstruct and create
My new cup and chocolate
My balance
In the new circumstance
In future if you need to come
Come with tribal drum
Played by striking with sticks
In the nerves crimson kicks
Come in drizzling ice and gentle rains
Not in tornadoes and hurricanes
Please …
A gardener was gifted a seedling.
Before planting its teeny weeny stem,
he gently prepared the earth,
carefully, vigilantly, so it was soft,
but tough enough to hold its roots.
Everyday, affectionately
he would provide it with water,
especially when the sunlight was too strong.
At times he would place an umbrella
over the top, so the stalk would not become dry.
When the winds would blow with force and
the sapling would shiver and shake,
the gardener would place a solid support against
its trunk, so it could lean on it during the storms
and when the puddles were too deep,
the gardener would wipe them away
and make sure it wasn't affected by the moisture.
Slowly, as the gardener nourished
the young tree, its roots spread
deeper into the ground and gradually
it began to reach out its elegant branches.
Before long, verdant leaves spread, all glossy
with their satin sheen sparkling in the sun.
When callous, colder days arrived
and leaves began to wither, like sorrows
the gardener would treat the bark and
cleanse away the moss,
so no beetles would ruin its skin.
When snow angels fell from the sky,
he would remove all the snow
and build snowmen around its base,
so the tree would be jolly on bitter nights.
As it grew all high and mighty,
its curly brown branches became home
to baby birds and hibernating squirrels hiding their nuts.
With sincere vigour the tree would protect them
from predators... Now the tree was big and strong,
so the gardener would sit underneath resting
from tiring days sheltering from the rain.
After a while the gardener never returned,
but the tree kept flourishing,
because it had unyielding foundations
to battle the elements.
Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay
My brothers and I, and our mates the other three,
They wore a different uniform the colour grey
Yet here in purgatory a smile from them being free
Oh to remember how we all played at the creek
Although their parents with different points of view,
The six of us born within sight of ‘Clinch mountain peak’
Our lot raised to suit the uniform of blue.
We faced each other on the battlefield of ‘Bull Run’
Ne’er a smile of recognition as the rifles reflect,
This is realism in a war of detriment with a gun
Following advice from those in power we respect.
Cannot speak for the others but the bullet caused me pain
Far worse than the wounds with wooden swords when fought,
At least first to go didn’t witness how each were slain
Nor with vigour their efforts from the way we were taught.
So here we are all standing before our beloved God
Waiting to enter heaven having shouldered the blame,
We’ve played our earthly role and carried opinions hod
Never the time to become adult when playing their game.
Thank you Eve Roper
for contest and inspirational first line.
Entered Mark Toney's sponsored
2022 poetry marathon mile 8 contest
poem written 2020
17/7/2022
In the deep silence of the night when perplexity
Confuses the mind, I feel your power descend upon me,
Surrender becomes inevitable
As I become malleable under the hammer of love.
I view you, approach mid sea, alone, resplendent
In the pale rays of the dazzling moonlight,
As if you were an enigmatic ghost drawing near
In a flimsy wisp of a whirling nightly mist,
Treading the waves, splashing your body with vigour.
Come closer, come, I'm not afraid,
Sing an echoing mermaid song for me,
Or slide into an enticing dance of love.
I thrive upon such inexplicable endeavours,
Where nocturnal elfin whispers and dreamy antics,
So pleasing to the sensuousness of the mind,
Combine to please the florid sensitive nerves
Of this old, tired and jaded mind.
You grow so fast, already showing glimpse of awesome creativity
and transform discoveries from the industrious nature of your observations
so squat at my feet and raise your attentive head up high
to be equipped for this compulsory journey oh sweet creature of my seed.
My hands of your molding and chastisement
are already the processing engine of your refinement
my strong willed mind and love soaked heart
complete the stages as you hold steadfast
to the train I’ve prepared for you
Listen attentively as I perform this segment of my duties
and lets take a tour round the routes of wisdom
and gallivant the landscape of experience
while I pedal your feet and smoothen your soles
Seasoned flavored virtues are an armour through which
life’s shots are overcomed
and a colourful behaviour becomes a saviour in times of need
Labor not your whole life in chasing vapour
for out of vigour, flour is made from wheat,
Bread from flour, but all for a time of enjoyment and satisfaction
Guilty syndrome is exhibited when a person answers unasked questions
and don’t force out jokes from your head
or else people will think your sense of humor is on a life support
Sunset is no accuse for the clock to stop running ad infinitum
thus, an excuse is like a punctured umbrella
it’ll still not stop the invasion of raindrops
Your natural desires are borderless, but your ability
to strongly control them is what makes you distinct
from other species in the animal kingdom
Love has no prefix, suffix or adjective
it is what it is and as powerful as
causing natural instincts to be abdicated in favour of kindness
just for the carnivore to embrace abstinence.
He who begins a tale becomes its reference
don’t say what you cannot defend in court
rumour is a bad odour which spreads beyond the neighbourhood
and puts a noisy siren on your personality
Bad companionship will lead you to the garbage
and corrupt friends will join others
to marvel at the immortality of your adopted stupidity
Wash your face every morning with these words
and take your every meal with these lines
then would they be spices
to which your life is preserved.
He was known as Joltin John
With his baseball bat and his cap upon
He played the game with vigour and speed
Many a supporter said he was all that they need
Was born Guiseppe Paolo DiMaggio number eight child
Lived in America for his eighty four years 'til he died
Played as centre fielder during all his career
With the New York Yankees, who he held dear
Described by some as an uncaring brute
Responsible for Marilyn Monroe sliding into disrepute
With sedatives and such by dominating her so much
Controlling her career to stop her kissing men and such
He craved the limelight just for himself
Yet disliked Marilyn doing the same herself
Yet on the field he was no freak
Known for his 56 game hitting streak
Was MVP winner three times with determination
An all star in each of his thirteen seasons
You will find him in the baseball hall of fame
Look closely you will see his name
Was voted as sports living legend of all time
Was the baseball centennial year of nineteen sixty nine
His first wife was Dorothy Arnold an extra on the film
in which his minor role endured her to him
Married for just five years a son was born
Carries the name of Joseph John
In later years after the Arthur a Miller charade
DiMaggio rescued her from the tormented life she had
Would sit and read poetry on their latter years
Finding a Contentment that slated all fears
So this man had his bad points and good
Needed to reach his soul to be understood
Deep down inside he loved Marilyn for sure
This we will never find out, cos he is no more
He stands alone high in his baseball we surely know that
As a father and husband on his nose he fell flat
.
Remember when we see these idols it's all outer skin
We will never ever know what they are thinking within.
penned 20/4/2015
In the heart of the Loire valley
Where the river wends its way
A young dreamer lured by nature
Free of care played music gay
As he wandered along footpaths
Playing lightly on his flute
By the vineyards in abundance
And the orchards full of fruit.
It was there that he encountered
A fair maiden and her art
She was painting on her canvas;
With a smile she stole his heart.
From then on they met in secret
Near the rolling hills in green
Where the flowers looked in wonder.
They were happy and serene.
They made love and plans together
Spoke of dreams they meant to share
Looked at life through coloured lenses
And built castles in the air.
Then one night a storm erupted
Unexpected in mid May,
Raging waters in a frenzy
Came and took her life away.
All his dreams were quickly shattered
And the castle tumbled down
For his Queen of Hearts had left him
Broken king without a crown.
In the ruins of the castle
He was left to sit and grieve
And his friends who came to visit
All were kindly asked to leave.
Days and nights passed undetected
As he dreamed of raven hair
On his lips he felt her kisses
Woke to find she was not there.
Then one day, he rose with vigour
Once again he built the dream
Made a castle even finer
Standing stately by their stream.
And the people came to marvel
At the wonder of this sight
For there in the very centre
Was her statue gleaming bright.
Now the castle so resplendent
Stands a testament to love
Which will never wane or wither
Conquers death and soars above.
-------------------------------------
26th August, 2015
Paul Callus & Eileen Manassian
Contest: Partner Up
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
She mixes coffee with her art.
With love she wields her trusty brush.
Her youthful vigour plays a part.
She mixes coffee with her art.
Abstract and complex rule her heart.
Meticulous and in no rush
She mixes coffee with her art.
With love she wields her trusty brush.
------------------------------------------
Contest: Lexi’s Art/Life Story
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Placed 2nd
This poem is a farewell piece of advice to a group of students I have taught over the last four years. I do
hope they find the metaphor meaningful and believe that they are the "architects of their own future."
Spread before you is a canvas of hope and opportunity
Waiting to be painted with strokes of what you are and can be
Waiting to be filled with colours that define you and the life you live
Waiting to be stamped with the personality that only you can give
To the portrait of your life, by itself a work of art
A work which, on this day, with vigour you will start
Spread before you is a canvas of vision and desire
Waiting to be sketched with shades of passion and fire
Waiting to be decorated with a story and theme
Waiting to be etched with ambition that is now just a dream
Of a picture whose tone, texture and style
Would have made this work worth all the while
Spread before you is a canvas, empty, yet full of space
Waiting to be stroked with your wit, charm and grace
Waiting to be brushed with strokes daring, vivid and bold
Waiting to be painted with a story that can be told
Of a life whose essence is one of sublime beauty
Of a person who lived his life and did his duty
Of a person who lived life the way it should be
Of a complete canvas that will reflect many a memory.
Each day marks an earthly rotation full;
The ascending sun warms, and setting cools.
This day is pinnacle, hence above all;
Our star’s broadening smile turns to you.
Life beacons thy pleasure for things as such:
The love-sick bird and sweet whispering gale.
To exist is chance—yearns cherishing much;
For it is rare a human knows its luck.
Seize this day with vigour—it is quite yours,
(‘Though the seizing of days ought be common).
Search for the willing, you’ll find them in scores—
The persons willing: rejoice by side you.
Happy Birthday is all I wish to add,
Along with the regards of a young lad!
If you should hear him coming, fear his roar
His grizzled warnings, you should not ignore
A formidable champion is Ursus, a carnivore
His claws protects those he loves with vigour
He confidently stands on two powerful legs
to liberate the world from its deviant dregs
Quite beastly is his gnarly savoir-faire attitude
when in combat with the insolent and the rude
He'd prefer to live in harmony with c'est la vie,
thinking, That's life and what will be will be
But he will fight when needed... c'est la guerre
Off to war with courage, strides the Great Bear
With one arm held in check, he'll not be denied
the voice to rebuke those who abuse and deride
If blinded in one eye, he would never hold back
To defend those in need he would bravely attack
When the day is done
And you are at ease
Just recharge your mind
Do as you please
Just relax
Your heart is pounding
From a fast paced track
Slow the pace down
Just relax
From the helter skelter living
To the treadmill pounding
There is no sense at all
If you cannot rest for a while
Take some time out and discern
So vigour is reborn
Sit down, lie down, float around
But always try, to just relax
Just relax from the strains that rides us
From the tedium of life which irks us
From the sorcerers who torment us
From The Strawman who represent us
Don't worry at all
Things will change
Keep your countenance
Let it shine
Feel the joy, that's inside
Do good, so it may comfort your soul
Sing praises, let your blessings unfold
Your heart is pounding
Beating your chest
You are under constant scrutiny
You are under constant duress
Recharge your aura
Be blessed
Put aside your burden
And just relax
Live your life
With no regrets
Ignite your passions
Seek a redress
So what was hidden from your sight
Becomes the new dawning
Becomes the new Light
Look upon the clouds
Watch the trees
Watch their growth
Watch the animals as they frolic
Over the glens and down the crevice
Watch the trees planted tall
Watch the plants, clinging to the wall
And with purpose, they survive
When I think of the wonders
I then realize
Take some time out to be amazed
Take some time out to laze
For of all the things that keeps us on the track
Never forget your blessing
When you just relax
Behind the mountain, beyond the azure sky
unexplored passions, I've watched them die
unshed tears, clouds cross a dried fountain
beyond the azure sky, behind the mountain.
Waiting for a someone, youth and vigour lost
a fire of crimson rose, kissed by chilling frost
petals now withered, damage had been done
youth and vigour lost, waiting for a someone
A bunch of dead leaves, sculling in breeze
winter's sun, shadows murmuring in trees
hollow words echo, knowing love deceives
sculling in breeze, a bunch of dead leaves.
16th June 2020
Featured in the best new poem list
Sponsor Joseph May
Contest Name Swap The Verse
He sat in his recliner in the balcony,
the evening soft breeze so cool, tender
with his eyes closed as if in a trance;
The light breeze swept along his wrinkled skin
caressing everything it touched on its way
at the tiny square balcony garden -
the blooms, leaves, herbs
and his soul soaked in its soothing touch!
His drowsy eyes still closed
he sat in reminiscence of the past
of all that had happened to him:
Now in his mid sixties - creased, faded skin,
withering tree - leaves drying and falling;
His once flexible brain losing elasticity
as is his skin - little by little,
with no one at his side
to talk to or care for him.
All Alone!
He heard the evening chorus of pigeons,
and opened his eyes to see
them flocking across the sky,
as they swooped and soared in
various shapes against the orange sky.
His eyes brightened at this sight!
Again, memories of so many incidents
recent and past - flashed before his eyes:
the loss of his better half to an accident,
the abuse, the neglect by his sons,
those disturbing exchange of words
that only made matters worse,
the endless wait for his sons
to return proved futile.
Ducklings that he devotedly cared
Flew swiftly away from his homestead.
Leaving him
All Alone!
He heard the tinkle of the windchimes,
as it swayed in the gentle breeze.
His mind dissolved in its mellifluous melody!
He has fallen down for the umpteenth time.
He has no vigour left
or desire to get up and move;
He is gradually mastering the art:
Of being dissolved
In the fragility of life
Like a scattered dust...
To be gently carried away by the breeze!
Embracing that precious moment!
All Alone!
Date: 11/03/2020
Submitted for Ambedo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Second Place
The Swing
Under this canopy of green,
The arms of this swing gleam,
Rocking gently to and fro,
As the magic courses through,
This swing of life,
Rocking through pain and strife,
Like others has to too,
Come to a halt though,
It swings high and low,
As the winds of happiness blow,
But beware of the sad blizzard,
Which tries to stop you, rough and hard,
But don’t give way to despair,
On this evening bright and fair,
Though the night will soon take over,
And the swing will move slower,
Remember that a new day will arise,
With another picturesque sunrise,
And with vigour fresh and new,
Again shall arise a new you.
03/27/2020
Rashi Soni