Best Whirred Poems
What seems now old
Used to be utterly new
What was previously told
We cease to over chew
*****
All that is old hold a treasure
If only we all knew
Just weigh and measure
Under the veil a unique hue
*****
Out of memories we grow
Been taught lessons to the bone
We do reap all that we sow
And for wrongdoing we atone
*****
Pleasure and pain what we gain
In a life not taken for granted
Who can stop time or rinse rain
Or suppress anger that should be vented
*****
Life will continue to hurt and heal
Vomit its villains to mould the meek
Send its saints to instill ardency and zeal
Never always the ones at the wheel
*****
Deeply inside my prayers I recite
To always endurance and faith embrace
Be human of worth, decent and upright
And paths that stain never retrace
*****
A great depth of gratitude to God we owe
For both strength and forbearance
For age that vigorously flow
And for the gift of Love in abundance
*****
An abiding passion for her Majesty the word
Delving into my smile and feel would draw
The music of heart in verse softly whirred
My poetic human soul imbued with awe.
Categories:
whirred, deep, destiny, emotions, endurance,
Form:
Rhyme
Tell us of folks with conscience clear on terror; of trusted neo
terrorists that oust teams, terrorizing thousands... near, far, and wide
May it marinate in their minds; peace and equality are as grated rind
with scent of pure zing... unlike vexed souls, bent on terrorism
Just last night, amid day light, before photographer's sky, right in
spring's warmth... such unforgiving moment of sudden fright
Thunderous wondrous sounds of bombs whirred, then cease, and
just like that came sight of flight 8430, blown to fallen pieces of debris
I saw red, white, and blue of American airlines's plane, meshed with chaos
just as those blown to smithereens during 9ll... Still I'll fly. Why shouldn't I?
In this land of plenty, we won't share cowardice with tyrants of immorality;
not on their watch! freedom bell has rung for everyone free of contentions
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." (... they knew not...)
Flight 8430 felt Coup DE main... not of You, Great God of earth, sky, and dew
I shan't forget humongous, booming sounds of invisible bombs that flew and
flung sudden terror so near, i hastened with thoughts of Islam and coercion
Of intimidation, degradation, castration; of trepidation, and mutilation
that moved me to see martyrdom in terrorism as ignoble affiliations
I'm due like you to sit snug and breathe with ease here and now, without
quest; will I survive or will I have time to utter one final goodbye
Night's stream of consciousness was dream, dear God, but Your world need You...
only You; by power of Your might, turn terror to unadulterated thanksgiving; so
As we ponder canvas of sky with eyes beyond clouds; we'll grace life with
courage; for we shall over come with hope, with aims, and with our dreams.
*
Categories:
whirred, abuse, america, change, courage,
Form:
Couplet
At the flea market I found you
Old and dusty.....but so nice
You`ve been so helpful and wise
Whirred around and around with your wheels
Many meters and perhaps miles
Much joy and money saved
Maybe even earned a penny or two
Tired eyes and hands treated you good
Far into the night, you`ve worked
The wheel spun around and around
Never fail, always available
ready for new tasks
Yes, I found you at the flea market
With a little soap and water
you are as good as new
Grandma`s sewing machine is so fine
Now you are decoration in my living room
22. August 2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Categories:
whirred, nostalgia, time,
Form:
Light Verse
Here’s a poem about poet Jan
Who’s recalled for a second brain scan
I was called in again
Could they not find my brain …
Hope my poems don’t go down the pan!
The scanner whirred and clicked into gear
I wore headphones so I could just hear
Queen’s ‘I want to break free'
Was the song played to me …
It did nothing to quell any fear!
The is a factual poem – I got recalled today for a second brain scan and whilst the scan was taking place the radio was playing Queen’s ‘I want to break free’ … it really made me smile
03~16~17
Categories:
whirred, body, health, humorous, me,
Form:
Limerick
Out the window pane she stares this day as others gone by. The
Streaming sun on the hay about and around;
Add a golden touch to this dingy room.
Drought she cried her eyes here thinking like a rose she would; but
Glad that cloudy day the bee whirred and had her head snap towards the
Streaking rays that part the grey tenderly.
On her lap her trusted friend sits faithfully from then,
Sharing her secret visions of the day when the
Tunnel will boast of light; a
Dawn when an angel in disguise will ride their way;
Tug them away from this life not of their choice, and so she sits each day -
Clinging with that hidden smile to the hope that sprout that day.
Categories:
whirred, freedom, hope,
Form:
Rhyme
The robot fancied he could write,
And so he scribbled through the night
And without fail sent off each tale—
Soon the world would know his name!
His levers clicked, his motors purred,
His gears and little wheels, they whirred—
But all came back with printed black
Notices that read the same.
At last the robot hired a “ghost”
Who fixed his manuscripts till most
Of them were placed, and soon they graced
Magazines—for cash and fame!
Categories:
whirred, science fiction
Form:
Verse
Sickness depresses my spirit
And shut down the doors of the sense organs
My soul recoils within the shell of my body
My heart retreats to a solemn feast.
There is within the flesh a great void of vanity
The spirit ruminates on bizarre planes
Seeking the verity of essence and elevation
To life is indifference, death becomes a handy foe.
Life and death are allies to trickery;
For we neither could sleep nor wake
At day overcome by a sleep-in-consciousness
And night, burdened by the waking-in-slumber.
The mind conjures up blurry images
Through grim eyes veers hallucination
The head goes a spiral in nocturnal planetary
As the body on a bed of limbo is confined.
Monotonous drone of air in empty jar whirred
Round and round the head dome
Whose sinew and vigor once thrive but now
Whose nerve and wit have become vain.
In sickness the body and spirit convulsed
And brings heaven and hell to closer horizon:
The body’s nourishments are repulsed by it
The spirit retreats from life’s elevations.
The Supreme comes to the fore of reason
Above all ambitions and abundance,
Which are subject to breath; when it runs afoul,
We shall again ponder its mystery, in sickness!
Categories:
whirred, addiction, allusion, emotions, feelings,
Form:
Verse
A flying saucer landed
In a farmer's fallow field.
It had come from far away,
Beyond Orion's starry shield.
The aliens were mystified.
They giggled and they squealed.
The cows were in the pasture,
Chewing on their cud.
They watched the flying saucer
As it landed in the mud.
They bellowed as the hatchway
Descended with a thud.
The farmer drove his tractor
Beside tall stalks of corn.
A flock of crows erupted
When he tooted on his horn.
They flew inside the spaceship
On that cool September morn.
The aliens were studying
The farmer's dairy herd.
They saw their craft invaded
By the band of big black birds.
Legs retracted, hatchway shut!
The flying saucer whirred!
The moral of this story
Is very plain to see.
It will be written down somewhere
In Alien History.
ALWAYS SHUT THE CABIN DOOR,
AND DON'T FORGET THE KEY!
Categories:
whirred, bird, garden, humorous, science
Form:
Rhyme
Can you imagine cream and sugar stirred
into snowy banks and winter flakes whirred.
Ice crystals forming into skating pond
for strawberries' axels and jumps beyond.
Chocolate trees stand, as limbs but a shell.
Gumdrops are children singing soft Noel.
Afternoon dish of strawberry ice cream:
tongue-lickin' good with room for tiny dream.
June 20, 2022
for Julia Ward's Ice Cream Poetry Contest
Categories:
whirred, beauty, children, christmas, culture,
Form:
Rhyme
it was like being inside a big machine that wants
to be noisy and disrupt your senses
and the blades whirred at speeds I could'nt see,
over the rice fields and boots of the dead and
the cartidge-case stairs thumped their tattoo down
to the heart of the Viet Cong (who were they?)
guys just like us...
and the explosion rocked the machine and bits of brain
and a pool(blood) crept past our feet...
and dripped to the water and fields below
and he was shouting something important but i could'nt
hear, I could'nt hear...the fear had got my throat...the fear,
Jesus I'm sorry but I just could'nt hear...
and everything was going haywire and guys were dying
and it had all gone wrong... not the way it was meant to be
and who were they who had done this blunderbus work,
mouths agape shooting into the sun?
they were guys,they were guys... just like us
Categories:
whirred, anger, loss, war,
Form:
Free verse
The impatient motorist,
drunken and careless, drove
through the red light
and stroke a pedestrian
sending him five feet in the air;
then crashed into a concrete wall,
to commit suicide...
that's why he died!
The drug-addict shot up cocaine
with a dirty needle...in a filthy,
abandoned store on the avenue;
his acute pain was relieved instantly;
he rejoiced for a few moments,
them his red and semi-conscious eyes
slowly began to close and he turned blue...
that's why he died!
The police car chased four robbers
in a stolen car...shots were fired,
and gess who got shot?
The wounded policeman
called for help,but blood
gushed from his dizzy head;
the thieves fled on foot...
to a hut in the parking lot!
The sirens' lights whirred...
they were sourrounded,
but didn't surrender to pleads;
they kept on firing their cheap guns,
they came out challenging,
attempting another ascape,
but they were mortally hit...
that's why they died!
The tripping hooker
in a leather miniskirt,
hustled the motorist
stopped at a crossing light;
she made an offer,
the car door opened
and she hopped in without fret!
By the murky river,
where the streets are empty and dark,
her lifeless body was found;
wasn't safety haunting her foolish mind?...
That's why she died!
The homeless man
begged the passerbys
who usually complied;
nickels,quaters and dimes glittered
in his small coffee cup...
money to be spent on beer,
food and cigarettes...
without having a place to go!
Winter was brute and covered
his frozen eyes with snow...
that's why he died!
The smelly dude with torn clothes walked
in a huge save-a-dollar-store...
with the bad intention he had premeditated;
he had no job: a loser and a destitute...
the wailing owner of the store,
pulled out his rifle and shot him twice!
The leaping robber dropped down...
holding a bloody,sharp knife:
grasping for breath,but found none...
that's why he died!
Categories:
whirred, life, car, red, drug,
Form:
Ballad
I reminisce, I miss
the sound of our giggles as we lay -
my sisters and I – on our beds
whispering into those sweltering summer nights
until inevitably, my stepdad
yelled up the stairs at us to go to sleep!
I would put my face right up to the fan
which loudly whirred inside the window
at the foot of my bed.
Those were the nights of easy sleep
and easy dreams.
Little was my stress; large was my joy.
And oh, those summer days
when we awoke to no more school.
My siblings and I rode bikes around town,
or sometimes we walked miles -
while sucking on popsicles - to the city pool
where we’d splash around carefree all afternoon.
Friends also monopolized my adolescent life.
Oh, those fun slumber parties
at which no one ever seemed to slumber!
Games, the music of our time,
and chit-chat about boys consumed us
late into the night.
Picnic reunions with church folks or with relatives:
always the sight, smell and taste of homemade meals
I recall: the wonderful homemade potato salads,
fried chicken, burgers and hot dogs on the grill,
Mom’s homemade Sunday pot roast with mashed potatoes . . .
I could go on forever.
But back to the night I go -
of those hot but lovely summer firefly nights
where sleep and dreams came easy
I reminisce, I miss.
March 28, 2021
for the contest of James Edward Lee Sr.
Now for A Brian Strand July 8 Poetry Contest
Categories:
whirred, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Standing in my kitchen, wearily washing breakfast's congealed dishes
Dreaming desperately of dredging up a dinner delightful and delicious
Late winter's wan rays of sunlight weaving their way through living room blinds
Weakly warming the chill hovel I'd rented since being orphaned in 1989...
Startlingly, a creak, then a tear-stained moan from somewhere behind me
A window opened, blinds parted, a breeze started: delusion--or eerie tragedy?
Whirling around, stifling a cry, I watched in wonder, wanting only to know
What this weeping and wailing thing was, whooshing its way to and fro
And wherefore invisible, as the wind whirred ever faster and faster
Would it cut me down, or would I manage to outlast her?
When of a sudden, I saw it, an apparition, sure and clear
What on earth was my father's ghost, his wavering image, doing here?
A spectral mouth, jabbering jaws, skeletal face bearing the telltale scars
Of my departed father's journey through a universe bereft of planets,
suns or stars
He spoke, this spook; he called my name: "Help me, please, my son.
Ask Him for His pardon; to undo the wrongs I've done."
I shrank from the image, my father's ghost, in pure terror
Surely it had returned to Earth by means of delusional error
I shrieked and hid my face, praying for the wretched thing to leave my place
Whereupon, abruptly, the image faded, whisked back in time
by the Devil's Grace...
The mind's imagination ranges
Far beyond mere celestial zones
Chilling mere human essences
to the marrow of their bones
September 20, 2018
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Scary or Spooky Poem Contest
Categories:
whirred, fate, scary, stars,
Form:
Rhyme
On the fortnight of the waning of the gilded moon
that burst with waxing wings like leather it whirred and hissed
a spell on tongues of terror looming to take my breath
away. Shadows red horror passed.... I prayed!
Down on my knees in weakness and fear outstretched while
Fires swelled and bellowed out his snout to swallow
throwing flames. I lay in wait a frozen corpse I am
stirred to death, my bones too chill
So close this fire eating mass did swoop on me I cried
aloud inside so silently enamored by the dread so
hushed with no sound did he hear me in my clamor as
He melted my will and my armor
This cold, cold night bestows a windy chill for
It takes no fortune, no gold or silver to this mighty quest
Banished to the lair of nevermore, I give my life
Taken by the Dragon's Tooth
July 13, 2020
Pick a Title, Vol 19 - 4 Sapphic Stanzas Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Categories:
whirred, adventure, courage, fate, fear,
Form:
Sapphic stanza
Father: Every Morning of His Life
The cup he took his tea from
all those years was Army surplus,
made of tin. It whirred
to the spoon he wound in it
15 times per lump of sugar.
We who slept in rooms just off
the kitchen rose like ghosts
to the winding of that spoon.
In my house, now, mornings
Sue’s the first downstairs. She
scalds the leaves and wonders:
Will the winding ever end?
Donal Mahoney
Categories:
whirred, father
Form:
Free verse