Best Winged Poems
POTD 19 September 2017
Apprehensively I tramp with my lamp - through a path shrouded in gloom
Silvery shafts of light entwine and fight through foliage as they creep
Gnarled branches twist as I resist their sinister outstretched grabbing reach
With a hushed bated breath I move in stealth - to allow the restless spirits sleep
I have heard and have feared the ancient Mystical stories that are told
Of a fabled cave of age where these immortal spirits abide
A sacred and elated reverie this questing soul with them seeks
To allow ‘The Oracles’ now - to show where my elusive love hides
I have heard it expressed in a blessed rapturous appellation
This glowing love from above that eludes this restless yearning child
A bliss infused kiss that Celestial Beings have been heard to applaud
A connection of perfection that would make Heaven look down and smile
In my quest to find the nest of undying unconditional love
I search alone to find my throne in the mighty caverns of the sphere
May the spirits guide until I find my bride in barren breaths of cold
And now I see in this mystic cavity an apparition does appear
In a gentle voice I do rejoice and hold captive in their chambers
My son are you the one seeking lasting love in our golden grotto
I say yes and will you bless my jaded journey thus far I have made
We’re beings of infinity descending divinity as above so below
I fall to my knees as they say with ease - Feel the vibes of the stone
Before you embark look within your heart - Love explodes there and beyond
I shed a tear with a cavernous cheer and find where I have failed
My soul anew now I'm due for my love to be Spiritually spawned
Acknowledgement from Maria (Down Under) -
To my very dear friend and Poet Extraordinaire`-The illustrious (((Winged Warrior)), for producing this collaboration together with me. It is no surprise at the effortless speed of this production - virtually overnight (because of the time difference), and then another night with the sprucing up. It was good fun and we must do it again WW.
POTD 19 September 2017
Music by Yakuro – ‘Through The Galaxy’ - Published on Mar 22, 2016
Copyright – Maria Williams and Winged Warrior – September 2017
Like a creature hibernating in its burrow
Waiting to come out with the first verdure of spring,
The seed of a poem lay dormant in my heart
Through the long winter awaiting another spring.
After staying torpid inside for long,
At a time I expected it the least
Timidly came out the first word,
As shaky as a calf getting up for the first time.
Then another came and word after word in a row
Like pellets of rain on the window pane.
I boiled them in the crucibles of my imagination
And dipped them in the ocean of my emotions.
But rhyme came to set constraints.
For the right alignment I struggled.
I had to decide on its texture and format.
Pondered if it should be a sonnet or an ode.
I might have kept the door open for long.
Alas! All my words and fancies flew away,
Like birds taking on wings into the sky
From a cage where they were imprisoned for long.
I stood so helpless with my mouth shut,
Staring blankly out into the airy nothing,
Like one lost in the doorway of his own threshold,
Unable to call back those winged words lost in the void
________________________________________
~Placed Fifth~
Submitted for Marathon no.10. Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Mark Toney
~Placed First~
31. March .2022
A Brian Strand Standard
Poetry Contest
Jack Frost, Jack Frost, how we feel your icy touch.
The earth lies under your freezing clutch.
You are a sneaking thief coming to steal the russet sun,
And mercilessly take away all our outdoor fun.
Fluffy snowflakes on feathery wings unfurled,
Fall gently and silently over the sleeping world.
First they come slow and then in torrential showers fast,
As if the snowing will never stop, but forever last.
Busy streets and pavements are now lying bare.
People stay indoors. To come out, they hardly dare.
Rodents have gone into hibernation in their ditch.
It seems life altogether has gone out of pitch.
Birds sit with drooping wings in their woody nests.
Within eyeshot, no trace of any roaming beasts.
From nowhere comes the song of a single bird.
On the slopes, one cannot sight the grazing herd.
Inch by inch, foot by foot, snowflakes fall,
Surrounding us on all sides like an oppressive wall.
Tawny roof tops are crusted with flakes of milky snow,
That the sun with golden beams alone can thaw.
From the cobalt sapphire sky’s misty veil,
Fall down the snowflakes like summer hail.
Unpigmented piles get heaped on the ground,
And the Earth lies inundated in a sea of milk churned.
From the seamless sea of ice, strewn with scattered gems,
Aureate, flaxen sunbeams make glittering diadems.
Thus Nature creates variegated scenes, delighting the heart,
Superseding every piece in a museum of man-made art!
Winged Steeds of Mist
Out in the vales of freedom,
of rippled hills and plunging canyons,
there is nought but wind
to carve through the wild horse
Light mane, nostrils flared,
veins like sacred rivers;
heart with a hawk spirit
flight strikes music from
bright pinioned hooves
Coats of shimmering autumn,
pied shadows, blinding snow
Time and mist have scribbled fear
into the sinews
Winged at the first breaking
sounds of intrusion
fear of capture awakens a scream
far older than the sound it emits
escape,escape
pound,strive, wild horse
snort fire and acquire
the secret of flying
Satin Winged Flowers ...by Carrie Richards and Poet Destroyer
_______________________________________
Let's watch how they cluster in whirlwind ballets,
lifting like clouds from the dark swampy ground.
Burrowed in sunlight, then full-bloomed at midnight
Bouquets of white moths wings, will gather like flowers.
Rising from shallows, with satin-soft petals,
circling meadows in small constellations.
With great expectations, they rise in their journey.
Star-struck, while seeking the light of the moon.
______________________________________
8/25/15
On 7/4/2020, John wrote, "Who Mourns For The Poet."
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/who_mourns_for_the_poet_1266152
Warrior is an adjective used for a hero or a knight
I knew one, briefly, whose wings have taken flight
Not just a fine poet was John, but also very kind
Generous and caring, is how he would be defined
Endearing was his 'love and light' message to all
Departed now, but his memory I will always recall
With words of tribute, I honor his humorous wit
Always a positive attitude, he was a candle ~ lit
Rest peacefully, ^WW^ ~ You're missed, my friend
Reflecting Ripples is a poem John sadly penned
In it he wrote about "shadows" and "silent sorrows"
Oh, If from fate, I could be the one who borrows
Respite from death, you'd have more tomorrows
January 26, 2021
Capture the Essence Contest
Sponsored by Margarita Lillico
I tried to fly without white wings
I cried inside with soul dying
Broken spirit broken dreams
Can you hear it my black heart screams
I was asleep and yet awake
Nightmares so deep they escape
The well in me the hell in me
Tormented spirits keep jailing me
I hide my heart in my shoe
Like it is money or gold’s fool
I walk around limping in pain
For I hate sun and love the rain
For sun makes clear all shadows
I’d disappear like a haunted ghost
Ever so near to holy hope
Depression is weird like me you know
Glassy eyes from teal tears fried
My heart broken my insides tied
Into burnt knots of mahogany
Lost in thought my glassy wings
Somnolence of sweet dreams.
These are given to be most combustible or tranquil.
Taken them in midday and midnight flights.
These truly are a delicate delight.
Now, soaring adoring and affixed with inner might.
Mortals dream to release a dove or hawk tonight.
To be exercised is our inside plight.
We have been given grace, mercy and divine inspiration,
to surpass these extremities in life.
If, we do not defer hope, we are able
to elevate ourselves to greater heights.
We only being bound by Earth’s invisible
gravitational atmospheric rights.
I feel, I see, I live, and yet, still possible to die.
We have an ethereal essence;
ours is an entity of intrinsic light.
A spiritual immortality given us at birth with foresight.
Our future already written on invisible scrolls for us to recite.
There are angel allies traversing multiple dimensions
of time and space to unite.
Winged warriors warring and winning
a contested celestial battle and fight.
I do ride upon golden and platinum colored
feathered wings of a very large eagle this very night.
This to win the battle of the imagined Enkro land
most lethal of sites.
The morning time abruptly commence.
I realize that I had been dreaming, to be
awakened by the dawn's early bright rays
of the sun refreshing and renewing sunlight.
"Winged Warrior"
~~~~
winged horse
divine white steed
creature defeats fierce monsters
"gods" placed equine amongst skyline
mythical male stallion
horse-god
mane mirrors snow
profound wisdom warrior
poets penned symbolic ascent
Heaven's Knight fantasy
*For Nette Onclaud's Pen a Pensewe Contest ...
*Written by: Username: petite poetess
*June 29, 2012 ...
*Theme: Pegasus ...
Hear ye, hear ye: Listen to my timeless presentation
If you'd like to conquer anger, irritation, or vexation.
My name is Emerson, Ralph Waldo if you please,
I founded Transcedentalism, creating a fresh breeze
Which elevates and fortifies an individual's will and spirit,
To withstand provocations intended expressly to smear it.
The vehicle is simple, a child's plaything:
A spinning top designed to give us a wing,
To raise us above petty squabbles and strife,
Bringing peace to the world, enriching life.
The top has four sides, each with a letter,
Symbolic of strategies to help us to better
Withstand darts and arrow aimed by others at us
As we keep our own counsel: Discuss---never cuss.
Spin the top as fast as you can,
Wait eagerly to see where it lands;
If 'B' is face up, it means 'Breath:'
So 'Take a Deep Breath;'
Exhale -- Anger's died an angelic death!
Spin you magic top again:
If it lands on 'S,'
Smile your widest smile,
Grin your jolliest grin:
Now there's no way at all for irritation to seep in!
Once more twist your top;
Watch it land on 'C.'
'Count to 100,' then wait and see:
From vexation you'll flee;
You'll feel only glee!
The last side the top can land on is 'L.'
'L' stands for 'Loss' -- Compare it with 'Gain:'
You Anger will only land you in Trouble again,
Whereas Peace and Tranquility win the day,
Providing adults much-needed opportunity for play.
Now I know our tops are not cheap,
They're priced pretty high;
But what matters money
When you soar to the sky?
February 28, 2018
A genuine soul
Whose pen is so bright
A master of words
Whatever his write
Always a cool cat
Always polite
Cheers! To you brother
My friend...love & light
Be the birdie
in the tree!
Dancing high
color flash!
Be the birdie
in the tree!
Calling love
nest with thee!
Be the birdie
in the tree!
Dancing high
remember me!
Be the birdie
in the tree!
Swoop from branch
high above!
Be the birdie
in the tree!
You had your chance
good
now
bye
love!
(repeat entire refrain)
With his hand over his faded heartbeat
Tuskegee airman, Ohio’s son,
Takes off in a flight plan for eternal terminals
This living aviator legend –
Whose heart looked up to soar on metal wings -
Flew through skies torn by warring clouds
And kissed the earth when landing once again
Knew only well discrimination’s determination to clip his wings
This December child, forever linked in birth to a day of infamy
When battleships lay impotent at the bottom of a harbor’s pearl,
Logs his last flight plan -
A general with a single star to grace his epaulettes -
Salutes his heavenly commander in chief
To leave jet trails of victory across Heaven’s pure air of blue–
Wearing on his tribute stone a Distinguished Flying Cross –
A Bronze Star –
Flies through all barriers of race above the slurs
After launching younger dreams of flight in a life of service
As his last mission takes him home –
No mission impossible -
Past the jealous bonds of earth soaring into eternity,
Into the welcome caress of God who takes the controls
Who was and always will be his Heaven sent co-pilot.
Tribute to General Charles McGee – a Tuskegee Airman who never let discrimination clip the wings of his dreams to become a military pilot during WWII. He flew over 400 mission in WWII, Korea and Vietnam. Born December 7, 1919. Flew home January 16, 2022 at the age of 102.
I have heard, my dearest friend,
That your anxious soul has unfolded its aetherial wings and
Soared to heaven
For
Impatient was it, the mighty warriors of our Lord to join,
And fight for the establishment of good upon the
Suffering earth.
May your soul find peace in paradise's mansion of the just! *
© Demetrios Trifiatis
10 November 2020
* I was informed that John Hamilton has posted that
our beloved friend and poet, WINGED WARRIOR passet on
to a better world of existence! RIP our friend!
Cut me a piece of her horn,
Take me a piece of her wing,
For my death she won't mourn,
But on my grave she will sing.
There is no love but death,
Cut me the wind of her breath,
Beautiful skin like a reptile,
Her caws cut into the back of the vile.
Yet her mouth shall not serve,
But serve only the one,
The circle is an a symmetrical curve,
Her true birth has just begun.