Best Witness Poems
When Again We Meet
Softly he says, "Should I die do not wait for me." She smiles,
"Just as the moon exhales no light without first a breath from the sun,
without you I'd be in darkness; what is paradise without light?"
04/17/2018
Pretending to be the pure an innocent,
a viper the mask hides.
In the absence of those to defending themselves,
the more vigorously it swears.
Those that show too credulous favor to listen,
instead of being careful, to insist on sound validation.
No elixir or spell can cure,
only truly depends on first loving themselves.
7/19/2017
the deer died with her eyes open
which means she watched herself
become field
something permeable
I found her on the third day of autumn—
found autumn wearing her decaying hide
like a hand-me-down dress
the flies had already written their poems
in the metaphors of her throat:
small black punctuation, multiplying
I wanted to close her eyes
but my hands passed through
what I once believed was boundary
later the biologist told me
decomposition is just the body
finally telling the truth
about how many selves were always
inside you waiting to be released—
even the child who never grew old enough
to be revision
now when I say I, I mean the forty trillion
bacteria who call this dirt-body home
I mean the deer
the flies
I mean the light
that passed through her
and landed here
in this poem
which is just another way of being eaten
which is just another word for love
by the porous self
Thousands of candles lit.
They form hazy clouds
They gather, unseen,
in the hush between pews
where people were praying.
I felt them even as candles flickered
I looked around as I heard their prayers.
Each heart bent but did not break.
They were the echo of endurance,
They expounded their faith
Except for a few that hid
in the dim corridors of doubt.
I saw most of the candles dimming,
Smoke rose and wonder what memory carries.
High in the vault clouds gather.
I wondered about faith and doubt.
I knelt down and fervently prayed.
God, please give me light.
White Lilies,
Scattered on the ground,
Out of their element.
Witness,
Purity,
Deprived of its origin.
Behold,
Clarity no longer visible.
White Roses,
In the purest snow,
Frozen to the core.
Witness,
Loveliness,
Stripped away so rash.
Behold,
Beauty destroyed.
White flowers,
All around,
Trampled into dust.
Witness,
Wildness,
Stolen without knowledge.
Behold,
Endless death fighting to prevail.
A party store robbery last weekend
deadly for patron and clerk
Suspect ran out, waving his gun
bandanna just covered his smirk
Eye-witnesses? Almost a dozen
not one of them saw anything
Which way did he go? We really don't know
straight faced they won't say a thing
No one was fazed by the gun that was raised
they said they were facing the wall
All of them stand with a phone in their hand
but no one had bothered to call
Now there are two families mourning
the witnesses should be ashamed
Now will they do right, and help the law fight
or be the next patron that's "slain"
Its a tough one for many to answer
they stay out and don't get involved
They're usually the first ones complaining
that another crime didn't get solved
Remember who you, turn your back on
it's easy to say "don't ask me"
So don't think that it's pride when you must decide
and who will you call? We shall see...
In little towns the big events are locally presented,
and every family in the town is usually represented.
Shopkeepers shut their doors when a pioneer curls his toes,
and if someone’s up to mischief, then everybody knows.
Every sporting club is well supported, right down to the wire,
they are the social hubs of towns to set the youth on fire,
through footy clubs and netball clubs combining into one
to sing and dance the night away, promoting local fun.
Of course when youth is mixed with party love can fill the air,
so Cupid’s firing arrows through the hearts of those who care.
This sometimes leads to earnestness when love gets in the way;
the town is now preparing for there’ll be a wedding day.
There’s heaps of preparation from the family of the bride;
flower girls and pretty maids to stand right by her side.
There’s the minister and invitations; the caterers are right.
All the groom must think about - “Are you coming to the bucks night?”
It’s half past five and dawn is breaking; we’re coming back to town.
God knows who is driving but their foot is going down.
There’s nugget, sauce and butter, smeared over everything;
the bucks party is over now - it’s ten hours ‘til the wedding.
And now coming up behind us is a mass of flashing light,
when a siren started blaring; we thought it better to take flight.
We shot around some back streets trying to lose this cop,
then someone with a drunken slur, said “I think we better stop.”
Popularity is not the word that I would say is spoken next.
This angry cop took any plea completely out of context.
He wouldn’t listen to a word that’s said, repeating “That’s enough!”
before I heard the second click of a closing set of handcuffs.”
In a cell back at the station there’s a pall of doom and gloom.
And there’s a hint of panic when it’s mentioned in the room,
by the cop who indicated strongly that by giving him some flack,
we’re gunna stay locked up until his Sergeant arrives back.
I made every kind of plea I could, but this cop avoids my dreading.
He said “Young lad you’re lucky; my Sergeants at his daughters wedding,
so he’ll be in a good mood when he greets you in this room.”
“Don’t bloody count on it” I said - “Because I’m the flamin’ groom!”
One lovely moth is flying through the night
with satin wings lined white in their design.
He hovers over innocence by moonshine.
A fragrant bloom has stopped him in his flight,
and on a petal he will soon alight.
He ceases fluttering so he might dine
upon sweet nectar of his valentine,
and I alone am witness to this sight.
Most fascinating is this sight to me,
for what I've found, though simple it may be,
has purpose and is nothing short of grand.
I keep on watching, frozen where I stand.
Now captured by the beauty that I see,
I let my net slip gently from my hand.
Submitted Oct. 10, 2022
for Julia Ward's Captivation Poetry Contest
"Witness of You"
by: Eric L. Boddie
Before my own eyes, it has been seen
The true potential of a pair of jeans
Another example of His Wonderful Grace
I'm sure that's why He Dressed it with your face
Bringing it all together along with your frame
The differences between one and one and you and sexy are the same
You define the journey desired by a man's heart
Because the path traveled leads to a place where he and happiness never part
Love and Life are at the essence of your Soul
So Blessed is the man who gets to watch you grow old
Unified with sexy, Beauty dominates your essence
Therefore, all negativity lessens
Vibrancy....radiance....in you, their glow is so relentless
It's just the Power of His Glory, and I am proud to be a witness
witness to a crime
a chipmunk with a mouthful
wouldt say bleep
Towering high the pine tree spies
Darkness gleaming across the skies.
All-embracing limbs it reaches
In all directions it beseeches.
Yearning for ominous actions to end
Locked they hide; secretly they offend.
Veiled is the door guarding treacherous fate
Never exposing; hold and isolate.
Looming colossal to pointed peak
Shadows adorn branches yearning to speak.
Piercing the court’s air the almighty giant cries
Wind: Roar. Needles: Skewer. Nothing it denies.
I slept all day and woke to the rain,
With the low purr of thunder rolling around my temples.
Through my open window rose, darkly, the scent of the earth,
Cool, ripe, metallic,
Revived by the unforecast shower.
I waited, the airless gap stretching wider,
Time stepping, achingly, forwards,
Slicing away second upon second,
Until, finally, the clouds sparked with great forks of lavender light
Which, with all their majesty, faded as quickly as they had come.
It has rained for many hours now.
The sky demands we witness her.
As Heaven Our Witness, Gave Its True Smile
Now here is love true, it is yours to hold
Its tenderness, as a rose petal's bloom
In its depths dare we both to be so bold
In savory nights, love in our bedroom
O' my lover, how I desire your kiss
And loving way that you hug me all night
Your beautiful smiles those I would so miss
I pray I never lose your bright cast light
Your blue eyes shine so this wonderful Spring
And each night as we both sing and slow dance
How you cried when I gave you that ring
We together swore again our romance.
As Heaven our witness, gave its true smile.
We swore to make our new lives both worthwhile.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
May 17th, 1974
Bound to the bark, it drank the rain,
And spread tendrils again and again
Unnoticed beauty, soft and deep,
While hurried, humans let affection sleep
They rush on by, with eyes averted,
A quiet presence, quite deserted
Their gaze on blossoms, bright and bold,
My subtle story left untold
But I persisted, strong and still,
My purpose held against their will
I nourished life, unseen, unheard,
A haven for love's tiniest of birds
So let them chase with fleeting grace,
After vibrant flowers that die in time and space
I am the bedrock, deep and low,
Where roots run strong, and secrets grow
They overlooked; they did not see,
the quiet worth that dwelled in me
And though they're gone, and seasons turn,
It will be their loss that they did not learn
On an ancient, gnarled oak's dark side,
Grew, a humble, verdant tide
Just a simple, protective green hue,
A silent witness, a moss heart forever true
Places where good and evil play their games my minds conscious
My light force fighting the dark sides final conflict
The saber tooth born civil and slung then raised feral
Grown wild
Some human beings create terror for their own child
Distant from peace with eyes showing pound signs
Corrupted by shiny things and out stealing bling like they're magpies
Left blind staring into space so they dont see the planet die