Best Yield Poems
Ash - grey chemised
she shifts her shape
as silver flakes float coat
stripped naked places,
sheath curves and angled spaces
Angry glitter tingle stings
thick earth skin with prickly flames
and rumble rise regurgitates
shimmy - shake shudders
in magma's deep thrombosis.
Her feather boa plume
tightens hot cloud chokehold,
acrid smoke flung up in air
without a care, heat exhumes
her arrival, announced fiery flounce -
Hot air blast flicks ash everywhere
Grande dame, her vital force runs hot,
and bold, red and gold- full blooded flow,
feisty fight to escape fate,
inner pulses push a violent urge
to bleed and drape red lava's cape
across green fields, human habitations
Unplacated, rising up, proud impairment
anger virulent, out of hellbent
immolation via pyramidal vent.
She lifts her tiara, red ruby globs,
hurls evidence in defense - great blobs
of royal reign - no abdication!
Throaty roars rend intonation
into screeching supplications -
She knows full well, soon enough,
her phoenix fate infarction
Too late for earth's burst heart
High drama is a living, dying art
Impassioned pleas too late for some,
Earth's burnout buries victims in her wake
High on an island hill,
the boy lay crushed, and still
on temple altar, throat cut, bled out
Hurried offering, did not appease,
nor bring softening release
for angry, ancient mountain
Head caved in by falling blocks
of measured, square cut stone,
the priest grovelled on his knees
Gravel filled their mouths, no space for pleas
No one heard half- whispered final groans
And Earth, once she settled down,
murmured not another sound
Posted 17/08/2018.
Night rewrites day, transforms the blues
with ink-wash, urges me to forget
grapples, tasks, drudgery,
hard surfaces and hardened people as all things
soften, lighten, blur— even gravity pulls less
as if the world’s core has pardoned the hefty afternoon.
Sheets pouch this body, pillows
accept every sigh. Sleep is a leave-taking,
a poetic restoration of sense and mindfulness.
Faultless, this need to submit, this appeal to let go. Just let it go.
Yield? Not to you, I certainly won't.
I'll parry on hot coals, I'll lunge to your affront.
Succumb? I'll not breathe your air of lies,
Since no honeyed sweetness makes me compromise.
Supplicate? Then throw down your armor at will.
Once freed from this battle, you will be my love still.
I That Because Of Your Attack, Will Never Yield.
No single tear given, nor I gift you an open field
so yes, make merry with your hatred and false face
as you pretend to be a true and great religious man,
a fraud, with your camouflage, you are a total disgrace.
I that because of your attack will never yield.
Walking through majestic flowering meadows heart singing
as an ancient soul in poetry's many pass ways
ink will set and as my poetic words I be slinging
while you slither around within your hidden dark byways.
I that because of your attack will never yield.
This solemn vow I choose to make because of hate in you
as dawn its bright glory shares, my words will your evil haunt
never are given blessings to those that wear masks of two
with this new creation, you sad wickedness I now taunt.
I that because of your attack will never yield.
Robert J. Lindley,1-23-2020
Slam/rhyming poetry.
( A wolf in hiding, smiling behind its nasty evil nature )
Note: This poem is written about the one that hides to so falsely
accuse, demoralize and try to destroy other poets. He that shall
not be named but will suffer as all such hiding villains do.
A shame and a travesty that such a wicked soul gets by with such
reprehensible charades. Surely your envy/jealousy leads you to be
a tortured and lonely but hideously wicked soul. Yet a judgment
exists well beyond the scope of mere mortal man. Consider these
words as a poetic truth that will one day see you face the judgment
of your vicious and truly contemptible hidden deeds.
Tis I, that now deeply pities an evil wretch, such as you....
Let not rash ejections of the mind
Blind thee of rational occasions
For idleness renders you unhappy
Yield not to whims
Nor be rash
Restrain ridiculous mentality
For it is thee mind
That makes thee truth
Remain or disappear
Yield not to prejudice
Yield not to succumb
Uneasy and insipid constraints
Shall not render me
My Dignity and Integrity
Yearning to be free from sin and self,
I bow before my Savior God and King.
Earnestly I seek Your tender mercies,
Laying down my life an offering.
Dying to my will I live for Yours.
9/1/13
I Refusing To Cry, You To Ever Yield
I never went into your dark room
never saw your silent rage
In my mind your cannons never boom
nor does your face ever age
I never felt your lonely trance
never saw you naked in a cage
In this dark world you truly dance
with the melodic words of a sage
We never journeyed to the Keys
never saw that perfect moonlight
In your gaze rested your pleas
to be so closely held at midnight
We never lived in each other's dreams
never wept to the same sad tune
Side by side we waded cool streams
yet we never wed in early June
Our days, were they numbered badly
sunburnt harvest stripped from the field
Was it destined to end that sadly
I refusing to cry and you to ever yield
Robert J. Lindley
Tiredless toils a farmer wields
to overcrowd his fallow fields.
His seeds did snug the ground,
and rodents ran arround;
in harvest came a yellow yield.
Category B: Serious.
I see the stars above
but they yield compared to you
nothing can come close
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
In this amazing night
Where I bow
And arrest my heart
To worship praise
My beloved Lord
And Jesus Christ
Divine saviour
Of my soul
Five Lessons I should know
“ I am the Lord your GOD...
You shall have no other gods before me."
Love you Lord my GOD
With all my heart and soul
Glorify the Lord
Give praise and thanks to the Lord
Trust in the Lord forever,
For the Lord GOD is an everlasting rock.
All power belongs to GOD
Thine is the power ”
Father God divine and true
I humble pray
I am ready for service
Obedient at your will and rule
Ready to abide
bestow upon me your love
bless me with your beauty
to be in your prescence i feel so lucky
i delight to kiss your lips
my heart for you love i feel
for my heart you did steal
gallop away with me across the horizon
lead me with your smile
as the sun starts to fade over the earth
my love for you has rebirth
it tears me asunder to think of your departure
drives me madd if you ever vanished
do not take your love away and your tender affection
for if you do it will be the ruin of me
like a strong city under seige
say you will be mine and marry me
take my hand and we shall become one
i make a vow to make you a happy woman
to thee i shall spread my wings and comfort your very soul
it vexes me to see you filled with sorrow
if i can not make you happy today i know there is tommorrow
we shall ride forth upon the dew of the fields
my love for you i shall never yield
She did not yield to his advances
Playing hard to get, taking chances
He sent her a bouquet of red roses
As his quest for love he poses
Love becomes a game of pursuit
In an attempt to capture her heart
Like a tango in steps so cute
As she dances to the beat he imparts
Soon he will close in on his desire
She's the lovely flower in the field
Then they will spark love's fire
And to love's pursuit she will yield
11-30-2021
''Y'' Contest, New Poems - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Here below the point where, losing his footing,
he’d tumbled down into the cavity
of what appeared to be a giant cleft
left in the side of this ancient cliff,
He lay, an anomaly
sharing space with two large boulders
which he now was wedged between.
These rocks, which had formed
layer upon layer through millenniums
till they jutted out into the
hollow’s middle space,
held him in a firm and stubborn grip.
He strained again and again
to extricate his body, but to no avail.
He remained securely lodged between the rocks.
Days passed. The man’s little hope
became despair.
Till the final drop of water in his canteen
had been drained,
till his final cries for help echoed in his ears
and then dissolved,
he lay in misery - soberly reflecting
on both the bad, though repented of, and
the mostly good he’d done throughout his life.
Then yielding to his fate, and
looking upward to the last small space of heaven
he could see,
he slowly closed his eyes.
Above him, gazing down from
a thinly veiled partition in the sky
was his guardian, who wept one silent tear.
She wept for one thing only- for
the fear and suffering her charge had long endured.
When that single tear was shed,
(and this is key) she wept no more,
but spread strong, graceful wings
for her descent.
June 17, 2020
For John Hamilton's Your Fave Poem 2020 Not Written For A Contest Poetry Contest
Come winter, I yield
becoming a willing hostage without appeal;
a prisoner to the solitary walls of the house,
closed, secured behind windows, doors, a hibernating mouse.
Writhing images come out the stilled and silent halls
spirited ghosts freely walk lean and tall
unchained from the past it's stalkings pleasing
to come alive again, if only in the season.
Celebrating holidays
recalling those easily forgotten memories at play
the gatherings of relatives, the aunts, the uncles unwind,
cousins from afar, unseen at any other time.
The house smells of spices, autumn winter scents
pumpkin, nutmeg, apples, cinnamon, carving events;
turkey with chestnut stuffing, fresh baked rolls and breads.
anticipating laughter of football games with parades ahead.
In the cold gray harshness of the winter tide
these sweet memories manage to survive
as each is revived to live again
by family, dreams and gatherings of friends.
Come winter, I gladly yield
willingly giving all to everything revealed
recalling each of those gone before but still close in memory
thankful with the gifts of family, love given me.
obstinence, disobedience
and uncompromising minds
a few of the traits that the nation of Israel
responded to God's Kind
they were very self-absorbed
and completely unyielding
ungrateful for the blessings
that God Himself was revealing
even after all that He had done
to remove them from Egypt's slavery hold
they were too impatient to wait
on the promises God had foretold
Our God is a God of second chances,
of mercy and of grace
a God of forgivingness
not concerned about culture or race
come to Him in humility
with a heart contrite and true
come to Him in gratuity
let thanksgiving be in you
It's not just about you
It's about yielding to God's master plan
you're not even in control
your fate is in the Lord God's hands