Best Wailing Poems

In warmth I lay, the hearth aglow
the winter winds do softly blow
and with the moon’s pale silver light
I sink into the arms of silent night.
the blankets soft the room so still
a peaceful hush a restful thrill.
I close my eyes to dreams I flee
embraced in calm…...

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no one knows nothing
when wrapped with
smooth silver silence 
some secrets sleep.

helpless heart hopes
love lives long 
but beneath betrayal
deep desires die.

time twists tides
some sail safe
some seize sand
while wailing waiting.



poem you are proud of #2 poetry contest
Sponsored by: SKAT A
May 9, 2016...

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Savoured roots at the tip of a spade
Dying leaves escape their own tree’s shade
We’re in a draught, spare me your tears
Unless you’re a portfolio full of shares

The land is levelled by green boots
Their orders given by black suits
Does anyone know who invented the book?
The written...

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The grey crows light cavern, wailing in web tavern
as lemurs juice pattern, sky from earth to Saturn....

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UNSUPPORTED CODE Wailing nature UNSUPPORTED CODE 
        Sorrowful, tired and hopeless I sit, watching the cruel sun setting
        Looking at the few standing leafless trees, “they are lucky to be surviving”
...

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So delicious my baby's right cheek
looked
to his brother

Of course he took a hard bite
on that
soft sweet sight

His cruel curiosity was confused,
amused
it's too easy to hurt

My baby threw a wail mile high
his brother
jumped...a fearful cry....

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for Alan Painter

I have put into many ports
                                   labelled:
handle with care
stood...

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I despair from the invisible thorns,
Inflicted on me by the forces of hurt
I desire to flee beyond,
from within the ****** of crossroads

Sweet pain!
I've come to see.

I’m trapped in a fortress as thick as steel
The puzzle called earth plays me, like poker
I flaunt my guts in...

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We are ladies-in-waiting and martyrs,
as tears are hardened like  trails
of  muddy barracks…
yet in the  aggressive power- courts;
each detonating bullet  hemorrhages
all veins of war- torn  flesh , 
our  stained faces pretending to play
and underplay the hurt of wounds within.

How long...

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I am from the synthetic turf,
Of which I never wish to touch myself.
I’m from beyond the mint juleps and fancy hats,
Where there isn’t such thing as wealth.

I’m from the steeplechase barns,
With the sharp hooves,
And soft muzzles,
Trainers, Jocks,
Personalities all like puzzles.

I am from the races,
Bonding with...

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Who will cry for the little boy,

Whose wails are heard resounding inside the man.

The man whose ever unhealing wounds are clothed in pride,

These mortal scars he wears beneath his flesh

To him are medals of honour

testimonies to his character

Though his visage is a prominent countenance of...

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Notes and flowers are left by the wall
Symbols of grief for soldiers who fell
Countless names, Vietnam Veterans
In hearts of those living spirits dwell
 
An older woman holds a child's hand
Points to a name and lays a small wreath
"I wish your grandfather had known you,
He was...

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Jones, Jones, where are your bones? 
I'd like to hear again your moans, your groans, 
underneath loathed graveyard stones, 
all with weird sepulchral tones, 
me and all my friends, the crones, 
wailing o'er the bones of Jones....

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A Threat of W A R

So weep, dear world, as 
The bear advances.
The bear with his trainer named Putin,
Loved by none, now  not even his own.
So end your roar, dear bear!
As Putin thrills to cause disarray,
Loving his terror — that weapon
He’s loosed again, yet...

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They have slept with their fathers
Shall we seek for revenge?
Even the emotions could no longer contain our sisters
All we sing now is dirge.
I could hear the wailing of infants and cry of women
the sound of swords clanging and shouting of men  
Everywhere... I see...

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