Best Volta Poems
Grim fog, I praise the shelter of your drear,
the sundown ghost morose not grandiose,
I walk alone - but, no -- with my despair;
a bittern bids a bitter adiós.
The breakers so in agony they gnash
and gnaw the strand with thrash of foamy green,
the tempest witch brings ironfisted lash
alas, the eye-of-storm epiphany unseen.
Free, free! The tern who flies in Gemini
above beloved peak and shore and wave,
sun-painted wings, away you went -- so spry,
so fierce! Bluebird pierced and buried in your grave,
..and the stars understand; a fateful fall into the sea --
Damn the deep! It’s jostle docile.. my scream to meet the scree!
Susan Ashley
June 29, 2021
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mille 11
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Contemporary Sonnet
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
*bittern: any of several tawny brown herons
*scree: an accumulation of weathered rock fragments at the foot of a cliff
*a Modern / Contemporary Sonnet is a poem of 14 lines addressing any theme of the poet's choosing. It does not need to adhere to any set rhyme scheme, syllable count or meter, nor does it need to include a volta. The only true requirement of a modern sonnet is that it consists of 14 lines*
In Our Blindness, Chalked Up To Just Be Fate
Life, its complexity truly astounds
astounds this old soul so sadly earthbound
earthbound but not without imagined flight
flight into blue heavens's glimmering night.
Night of ill winds that beggars disbelief
disbelief of blindness that brings dark grief
grief of those lost, dying with no recourse
recourse from disease of war's killing force.
Force spilling blood, war's sad barbaric score
score of flesh and bones, as death demands more
more as heaping mounds of worthless refuse
refuse this world considers of no use!
Life, horrors often born of man's dark hate
Hate's dark blindness, chalked up to just be Fate!
Robert J. Lindley, 11- 21-2019
Chained Sonnet, ( War, Its Savagery And Its Bloody Costs)
( Where Peace And Beauty Can Be Shattered In An Instant)
Perfect 100 words hit...
Syllables Per Line:10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words::::: 100
Chained Sonnet definition:
Chained Sonnet ( or linked sonnet), is a sonnet that uses the poetic device of chaining.
The elements of the Chained sonnet are:
1. the verse is written in any sonnet form.
2. chained when the end word of the previous line is the first word of the next line.
3. flexible, at the poet's discretion, to bring the sonnet full circle the first word of the sonnet is the last word of the sonnet.
Pasted from http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/forums/topic/1053-chained-sonnet/
Thanks to Judi Van Gorder for the resource at Poetry Magnum Opus Site.
## Note::Classified as “Gadget” Sonnet, as they have refrain, or have construction or length requirements
which fall outside of the “standard” sonnet area, which generally vary only in meter, line-length,
rhyme pattern or volta requirements. Reference:: http://poetscollective.org/everysonnet/gadget-sonnets/
Source: http://forums.familyfriendpoems.com/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=130578
Cinnamon and apple fill the air
Scent of Gram's famous pie
Warm fire roaring in the hall
Music turned up for all to hear
"Vivo per lei da quando sai
La prima volta l’ho incontrata,
Non mi ricordo come ma
Mi è entrata dentro e c’è restata.
Vivo per lei perché mi fa
Vibrare forte l’anima,
Vivo per lei e non è un peso.
Vivo per lei anch’io lo sai
E tu non esserne geloso,
Lei è di tutti quelli che
Hanno un bisogno sempre acceso,
Come uno stereo in camera,
Di chi è da solo e adesso sa,
Che è unico per lui, per questo
Io vivo per lei....."
Thoughts of you ring in my mind
Playing the music in my soul
A burning desire
Making my heart beat strong
Vivo per lei
I live for her
My warmth, my breath, my soul
Taking my lonely
Making it whole
My heartbeat, my strength, my home
From the depths of my heart
to your soul
My vision, my meaning, my know
Even though far, we really are near
Oceans apart but I feel your touch
Sweet music is all that I hear
Whispering I love you so much
*** "Vivo per lei" by Andrea Bocelli ***
Such wondrous beauty held in eyes divine,
I wish this lovely night would stay, be kind,
So blissful are her eyes...I need no wine,
Nothing to match her beauty can I find.
The morning sun shall take away the night,
And I shall wait till moon and stars arrive,
In darkness our love hides...so harsh the light;
Our love is cursed while unsought rivals thrive.
But, when we die, forever we shall sleep,
With unseen wings we leave, fly like a dove,
Our bodies, left in ground, cruel could keep;
We'll leave all things behind except our love.
Now wait for death to mix in dust and sand,
And hope we two unite in God's own land.
May 19, 2016.
Pen A Sonnet On It - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Janis Thompson
Contest judged on : May 30, 2016
Second Chance - 4 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
The Shakespearean Sonnet is written predominantly in a meter called iambic pentameter, a rhyme scheme in which each sonnet line consists of ten syllables. The syllables are divided into five pairs called iambs or iambic feet.
Include a volta- a turn or contrast in the subject of the sonnet usually using such words as yet, but, nevertheless The Shakespearean sonnet has the rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG.
Don't be ruthless in communication
be it written or verbal, teacher told,
never say 'no' as wise people have told.
Feel the impact in brain with negation.
A 'No' word releases dozens of stress
producing chemicals in brain forthwith
interrupt normal brain functioning with
impairing logic, reason; complete mess.
Yet, we fail to control ‘No’ word, knowing
its curse in brain function; negatively
thinking puts in worst state definitely
then with anger forces for misdoing.
When one decides to think positively,
can turn their lives around competently.
~X~X~X~
Bowlesian Sonnet or Australian Sonnet is attributed to English poet, William Lisle Bowles (1762 -1850).The elements of the Bowlesian Sonnet are ::
-a quatorzain made up of 3 quatrains and a couplet.
-rhymed abba cddc effe gg.
-metric, iambic pentameter
-composed with the pivot or volta between the 9th and 13th lines
Reference: http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/forums/topic/1042-bowlesian-sonnet-or-australian-sonnet-and-canadian-sonnet/
I said "I was just trying to be heard."
but the grown-ups were scheduling the next meeting about meetings
and the stillness was louder than me.
I said "I saw the cracks before the walls fell."
but they called it anxiety
pressed a pill into my palm—a bitter bead to bolt the mouth—
traded my bike for a screen.
I said "I asked what happens when the warnings all come true."
but they gave me the word catastrophizing
and sent me to talk to someone who would teach me to cope.
I said "I need something—God, or anything bigger than this ungodly."
but they said they'd outgrown that
they said the universe runs on chaos
hope—a feathered fraud—
they said forgetting was the price of growing.
I said "I dreamed of a world that listened first."
but the world was scrolling
and the scroll had no bottom
and the bottom had no floor.
I am still trying to be heard
the grown-ups are still busy
the world is still scrolling.
and I am learning
that no one is coming
that rescue is a story, fantasy, myth
that survival is action, not a noun—
I teach myself
in the darklessness—where angels file complaints.
while the adults
argue the wording
of the warning
no one
will ever
read.
________________________________________
§ FINAL VOLTA
But even in the dawn
I feel the stillness shiver—
a warning
the world
still refuses to hear
an acorn
hits my head—
the forest still believes
in warning
even when we don't
Our love had been built on a firm foundation
Trust, compassion and fidelity as well
I thought there’d be no cause for consternation
We thrived for a time in a magical spell
He was my white knight and I remained his belle
Never a doubt, certainly no confusion
Any misgivings his blue eyes would dispel
But moving in marked the end of illusion
~~~~~~~~~ Volta ~~~~~~~~~~
His son emerged from video seclusion
This twenty-year-old had never worked a day
He found my presence to be an intrusion
He flung jabs in attempts to drive me away
Thought we had it all, but his son was the boss
Now I’m struggling to recover from this loss
*Entry for Dr. Ram's Spenserian Sonnet contest
Beyond the paint,
I hear the lilt of a violin
string stirring,
lazy and languid
creeping through
a lowly god’s veins.
His ichor flows and foams
with the sound of sea on
white beaches, while
siren’s song dirges,
calling sailors to dance.
thump thump thumping
the beat of volta do mar
The notes rise from
greenlight to gray to
midnight crescendo.
Black chords of piano
wild and wanton loud,
and dark; it seems
a sailor’s death
is imminent.
But, sound shifts sudden;
ocean waves calm.
The sirens fail.
A life is spared
as violin plays.
Silver notes drift.
Beyond the paint,
a void in cobalt blue
awaits—
thump thump thumping
A hypnotic tune
of life and death
is played anew.
After: Blue and Green Music - Georgia O'Keeffe 1921
07 January 2016
For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting 1
HANDMAIDEN OF MOON DANCING
fly me to stars in the thrill of one swan night
over a crescent arc to feel a flame of sighs,
teasing dreams so silent yet ever wild
and like a neon light, speak through your feet ,
your ribs twirling in drips of summer’s rage : throw
away the restraint of confined movements
dictated by a body unmoved; of a flower
keeping her flutters from crawling freely on grass
give me a sway through leaps unto ocean’s swell
without need for thought or reason, rather,
lift the flesh made from love or hate, to burst
with primitive heat; fingers liquid in motion unbidden
by a sacred place that doesn’t exist on earth, when
all but the fragrance of a naked skin expresses
the very force that writhes in the faint of depth,
licking the cells inside out.. weightless, bold, soft
dance the crazy dance with me just because
such passion needs to flow along rhythms
burning within… till a weave of spin breaks
into a trance blending a wanton glide with
pirouetting flights raw in some meadow clearing,
pious pose under the tangerine of touch…
handmaiden of moonlight dancing on flames
pluck those eyes ,rise above mortal remains.
©
*i tweaked this free verse with a sonnet’s volta
in the last two lines (10 syl rhyme count instead
of the usual 8 syl pattern)
----------
*Martha Graham is the pioneer of modern dance. As a ballet dancer
and choreographer, she introduced inner movement emphasizing
emotion, spontaneity, and an exploration of psycho-social themes
( feminism, political protest, and labor unrest)through free -flow
of innovative steps, thwarting cultural control over conventional,
metered dance. Her last performance on-stage was in 1970,
at the age of 76; she was working on the choreography for the Olympics
when she died in 1991 at the age of 97.
Graham was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1976
by President Gerald Ford and cited by Time Magazine as
"Dancer of the Century" in 1988, aside from her other accolades.
*Source: Wikipedia.com and www.voanews.com
*Please watch
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUoMc5Am_c0&feature=related
‘ ‘’’’’ ‘’’’
For Cyndi Mac Millan’s Maverick by nette onclaud
On the coast of gold(Ghana) where ethnic cultures intertwines like glittering and colourful 'bonwire' kente
A vibrant tapestry of diversity divine.
Starting from the South where the powerful Ashanti real heritage
Tracing to the Fante coastal tales of the sea
Across the Nzema fishing net cast upon the tides
To the Ewe's rhythmic abadza
And the atumpan of the Ashanti's that echoes
And rejoices to the dance adowa beating the soil.
Oh Ghana's culture, beacon of our pride
A tool for democratic thrive
The history and festivals like aboakyir, Samba and Kundum
stirs our spirit as the gleaming star of the east forces the earth to revolve around it
Ghanaian culture beauty blooms as democracy prevails within us
For Warrior King's culture, a tool we wield to build a generation graced with autonomy indeed.
The Black Volta spreads walks majestically as autonomy and democracy spreads it's wings
The symphony of highlife and Sankofa the mythical bird of the acient trumpet proverbs of those days
For it is not just the taste of our abunuabunu or the gold that adorn our neck that makes us take our stance
But Remember diversity of our culture
Warrior King's in diversity
In defence shall we fight and perish to bring the eagle full of might
Our culture unite
Our culture our voice
Our culture transforms and clear every blurrish sight
Let us all come together and celebrate Ghanaian culture the Genesis and revelation of democracy.
Thank you
No dear, not for your sympathies to earn,
Nor yet that your attention can I draw,
Just as helpless infants are apt to do,
True, facing you helpless I’ve often felt.
Tears cause in me no butterflies of love,
Nor trigger love-bonds flowing well within,
Should ye so wish, check chemicules therein,
Check enzymes and lipids if so to prove,
Or if electrolytes are duly dealt,
Tears of emotion show more protein too,
Making them viscose more, on skin to claw,
No, tears are not shed by me— one lovelorn.
Nor yet my dear, crocodile tears are shed,
Oh, just so that my dry eyes moist are made.
________________________________________
Chemicules: short for chemical molecules
A man cries the night before, and his wife wants to know why. After ruling out all her false conjectures as to why he cried, he gives the true reason: He suffered from glaucoma, and his eyes tended to weaken more due to dryness. And he tries crying sometimes to moisturize his eyes.
This sonnet might appear rhyme-less on a casual look. But it has a mirror-like symmetry— the first six lines rhyme with the next six, followed by a Volta in the form of a couplet.
_________________________________________________________
Sonnets (Humour) | 20.03.2017 |
Famed gold crepuscular rays angling down
Knifing in between, through volcanic haze
Hualalai and Mauna Loa’s crowns
Fire Goddess Pele greets fresh island day
Fuchsia blooms explode, steal attention
Pollens mingle on zephyr coastal breeze
Hallowed entry, this tropic dimension
Surf thunder backdrop, soundtrack of the sea
Running shoes crunching the roadside lava
Kaleidoscopic blooms, soon to transmute
Mango, papaya, lilikoi, guava
Untended harvest of paradise fruit
Slow tempo set to the island perfume
Soul dances in the fragrant sensation
Unbridled speed would be this journey’s doom
Not to give in to the exultation
Entering town, the cast of characters
Pungent whiffs of spoiled fish atop stale rice
Green Shangri-La’s dingy inheritors
Tropical Bukowski's frayed paradise
Amphetamine native, drawn skin and bones
Wincing eyes, loose grasp, cigarette homespun
Tribal markings long burnt, faded blue tones
Completed journey, dark side of the sun
Manicured denizens clutter the way
Fair guests at the Royal Lik’a’Heini
Young surf seekers grimace to greet the day
Pakalolo Hostel, skunk-and-briny
Volta at the pier, Triathlon’s temple
Hallowed asphalt, footfalls of history
World’s smartest man living life so simple
Broom pushing, tune whistling, smiling at me
I should run faster; it's Ali’i Drive
Temple of Ironman’s Marathon pride
Vainglorious dreams have boiled alive
Burgeoning pace, a seaside suicide
Fair breeze has halted, sharp rays now reigning
Blanket of torpor fights progress forward
Through fragrant pillow, all fight is draining
A ballistic migraine arcing southward
Demons exorcised, sultry purgation,
Epic journey ends in clear sacred brine
Feet dive in wet sand, a bless’t sensation
Gaia’s ocean of sweat swallowing mine
4/28/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Known Now, A Hidden Sweet Wonder Rarely Known
( Shadow Sonnet, form number 6 )
Green forest glowings transcends earthly green.
Masked veils waiting to be wisely unmasked.
Why hide the answer after asking why?
Would a forest's skin be only bark wood?
Can not earth's Nature also prove man can;
live in peace and do right by letting live.
Finding old trees joyous in the finding.
Many jewels found where runes are many.
Tokens of darkness just ancient tokens.
On blood-sacrificing stones, red stains still on.
Hope for greater insight against lost hope;
revealed in wood old savagery revealed.
Yet old timber growths you may still find yet
Unknown miracles crying to be known.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-20-2016
Not necessary but still written in-
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 100
DEBBIE'S 6/6/6 CHALLENGE- Final poem(first draft)
SONNET FORM #6 - Shadow Sonnet May be written in any sonnet style.
The Shadow takes place at the beginning and ending of each line as
the words are identical or homophonic words or
their derivatives. 14 lines Should have a volta or pivot (if original form does)
Iambic pentameter is not necessary.
---------------------------------------------
Thank you so much Debbie for presenting this challenge, your generous advice
and sharing your great poetic knowledge.
Celibacy
Buxom spouse desired of most any man
His love his life must nature wash away
Voluptuous swaying hips man’s eyes scan
His gaze into those hazel eyes doeth sway
Fleshly desires it seems always that way
Must man’s decay be of uncertain life
His children’s seed of wife he loves this day
His world is peril spent of the mind’s strife
~~~~~~~Volta~~~~~~~~~~~
Hails celibate Spirit of divine knife
Celibacy’s love returns as our Dove
By transformation’s mental sacrifice
Renewed of condition a mind of love
Triangles of love a spouse and or God
By celibate choice soul of love is shod
For and in Honor Dr Ram
And Contest: Spenserian Sonnet
Note: All lines in this heap are from failed sonnets that I tried to stack without having any two consecutive lines come from the same poem. I had to break the rule twice. It was nice to find a use for this trash, though. I'm sure a few can relate:
Often I think of how the canyon laughs,
what jokes, I muse, would free stuffy stockades?
And if the sheep had herded men with staffs,
would darkness come out, not into the caves?
What lambs or sheep use cripples just for skin,
to drape within the light from early day,
From their helium balloon canyon’s den,
How would they know if tides were high to stay?
Of milk lavender tulips, though, I flow,
as satin lace in leather stirrups through,
The march I may in august do in snow,
for hell has frozen over, don’t you know?
Yesterday, even, on my t.v. screen,
I saw a child wearing a shirt that said:
“Help save the volta, doubles have been seen,
Terrible truths of one that two are dead!”
So sink and seize this season's silliness,
who does her hair while wielding a sword,
unspoken are the kisses between us.
when prayers pray for want of loving lords;
Yet, my own veins feel lighter they do,
she cuts at skin but doesn’t say good bye,
I’ll tell you this, that it doesn’t do you,
hand me the Kleenex, someone spit in thine eye!
I was in love and now I’m still in love,
but she, or you, you spin me crazy love!
But then, I breathe, as canyons laugh at me,
What? Laugh at these! I hope you stay thirsty!