Best Yoke Poems
I seek a place that leaves no trace
Of venomous blood and tainted heart
I seek a place that holds only grace
Of righteous hearts and caring thoughts
I seek a place that broods not on hate
But of a tranquilized soul and an intellectual eye
I seek a place that is haven to a guilt-filled heart
Let it not, Oh! Wretched Passionate heart!!
Let me not succumb to such ardency
Let me not, dear god! Yield in to such tyranny
To extract such murky ardor is all I ask
I dine with seething lassitude brought forth by such a task
Dear nature where has it gone, my obliged gratitude
From you, I have averted a heart
That comes to you now seeking! Asking! Groveling! For pardon
Almighty nature, which once has soothed a brute within me
Please! Dear god! I beg thee do not forsake
I come to you humbly meekly seeking an unfeasible amnesty
For I drown in to the abyss of thirst of farfetched enlightenment
And only now I know“how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge, and how
much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who
aspires to become greater than his nature will allow.”
*Inspired by Frankenstein’s tormented conscious *
~M.M.M
Ideas to change my mind
Attempts to chain my mind
There’s a wild horse inside
Roaming the shrinking prairie
Whose voice does it heed?
What advice does it need?
To tame it is to break it
To put it to good use is
To put it in a yoke
Shake it off, throw it down
Forget what you’ve learned
This is how freedom will be earned
Hope tenuously hovers over our wounded world
Usurped of compassion, greed is gaining control
Mankind no longer respects the gift of human life
Apathy runs rampant when overdosed on delusions
Natural affection for our neighbors no longer exists
Ignoring the maladies is a threat to the human race
Tethered to tyranny will chain us to grief. Divest the
Yoke of inhumanity and retain integrity to show we care
: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . :
November 14th, 2017
Humanity Acrostic Contest
Sponsor: John D. Hamilton
Whit dat tight till - say
yes, aye wool thank ewe
mooch at least for today
hoof fully (this Joe kerr)
can easily bide his time weigh
beef hoar rammy cows come home.
Meantime India interim
lemme clover - reaching
far out on dam moost precarious limb,
bot do nut inspect me tub bark prim
and proper, nor procrastinate for tim
marrow, cause spontaneous whim
will lose heft, no matter how inane
poetic palaver could by then
elude ding me noggin to explain
nebulous jibber jabber hokey folderol
even confusing to a Great Dane
a dog (of course)
man's/woman's beast friend,
not hounding visa vis discovering
you improperly verb (bait him)
bone a fied with noun (sense)
barking up wrong tree
dangling modifier as gerund
faux paws and inquisitive,
nonetheless countenance do lend
sincere cachet gnome hatter compared
to average superficial *****sapien
said former doggone creature just thru
facial expression can mend
"broken" heart and soul,
which rhyming tangent did send
yours truly off scent, asper initial trend
actually truth be told, no paw tickle har
matter, I sought to sink teeth into,
but let babbling stream of consciousness wend,
where petty full extemporaneous tooting
oh my didgeridoo, which initially scares
the dickens out gills of hooting
blowfish until they recognize
this bloke juiced pooting
air thru a long wooden tube, be yule
then their piousness piqued to pisces,
gather together as if attending school
always mindful to follow
the goldenfish rule
i.e. aldi tom not erring,
floundering, and getting
tricked, royally suckered, and
hooked becoming gruel
resulting within tummy higher
up the feeding chain,
survival of dragnets cruel.
fission expedition for
salmon to hope fillet
enjoys almost done hook,
line and sinker - hooray,
sans to steal mental energy,
and precious time may
king another reason to be
persnickety and every ray
zen to be guarded, when
wading in cyber seas tay
king precautions, once
I return from Uruguay.
As Treasures of heart
Deep within the midst
Of Love...
As time passed by
Tis man.. whom
Came within my life..
Sweet as can be..
Words to behold..
Such Loving ways..
But tis as I have found
Not tis same.. Faith..
His faith tis quite different
Than what I bestow...
He believes Jesus was just a teacher..
a preacher.. a man..
But must address Jesus is Our Divine Christ..
Our Messiah.. God only begotten son...
God whom came in the Flesh..
He is The Alpha.. and the Omega..
Unto us a child was born...
Government be upon his shoulders..
His name the Mighty Counselor
Our Heavenly Father.. The Mighty God..
Jesus is the King of kings.. Lord of Lords
Our Savior.. Only one without any sin..
Jesus died and risen...
As two behold Love...
Two shall behold the same yoke..
this is no joke..
for if two do not behold same faith..
than the two.. be not complete.. as one
as Two come together
All under our Fathers Son..
Come to Jesus
Christ is the only way
To find Divine Life..
As of this day.. My heart remains the same..
Beholding only one whom is True..
Jesus Christ Our Divine King..
Always and Forever His...
My sweetheart, you work like two keys
unlocking my shy tendencies.
Like a chess piece, your presence frees
me from myself – worst enemies.
Your strength brings to mind young oak trees.
Your notches and grooves satisfy
need for attention, you supply.
Then securing our doors whereby
my reluctance you rectify.
On life’s chess board, we’re residents.
Castling’s allowed but your presence
guards our pawns from my reticence.
Life’s holes can still leave me depressed,
but safe in your limbs I find rest.
You lift me high, my steady oak.
Melting in your arms, I unfreeze,
my king, my defense, my great guy.
Your keys fit the lock common sense.
We are a team, we’ve coalesced;
all’s kept in check under your yoke.
written March 29, 2018
At the bottom of the ocean lived a blind turtle. Believed only to surface once every one hundred years. Floating above it upon the vast Ocean was a golden yoke, blown by the currents and the wind, an opportunity for the turtle surfacing at just the right time and in just the right place to put its head through the yoke.
Our chances of finding freedom and fortune are similar. So what is there to do?
I spent the first seventeen years of my life unaware in a sense that turtles and golden yolks existed.
I learned to swim at a very young age. I loved swimming underwater. I never gave a thought to my own breath, but I give thanks to those times:
To the breath that gives and takes from mine to his and to the roots and leaves and back again.
To a heartbeat that drums into tomorrow, and the day after in timeless rhythms.
To a family that supported being a soldier, a hippie and a nomad, only as long as happiness came with it.
I give thanks to the sickness that whispered to me of the turtle and the yoke, and the ancient stories that never floated away, so that I could be lucky enough to hear them.
To every other being like me, that hurts, and shivers, trembles and dances, cries and laughs as I do, and to all their many languages.
That I have the opportunity to communicate with them, and sometimes without words.
To never once having the worry that I may go hungry this night, or the next.
To always having a home, and a clean bed I can fall back into
and to not having to do so.
To past lives that occurred in this memory, and the ones I have forgotten that have put me in this place.
To the music, love and happiness that make it all worth it.
I give thanks to the turtle on my arm and the one that found its way.
Thank you for the breath and a yoke around a head
More at : http://brendenpettingill.com/index.php/2017/11/27/the-turtle-and-golden-yoke/
You can beat me up,
Send me to Malaysia for treatment,
I was on business, I will tell them
When I am back,
Business is good.
I have soldiers living
In my dining room,
Roaming my garden
Peeing in my swimming pool,
You placed them there,
The courts cannot take them out.
You walked out on me,
Never talked to me;
Married a twenty year old
The newspaper says,
You threatened to kill me,
Your hand is my danger.
The yoke
of cause and effect
and disastrous
choices
I came to regret.
In the shadows of the night,
I feel Satan's yoke, so tight,
His grip upon my soul,
Is a weight I cannot control.
I am lost in his embrace,
My heart and mind, he does encase,
I am but a pawn in his game,
A victim to his fiery flame.
I am consumed by his darkness,
My spirit, he does harness,
I am bound by his chains,
My will, he forever restrains.
Oh, the agony and the pain,
Of being under Satan's reign,
I long to be free from his hold,
To escape his cruel, cold mold.
But alas, I am but a mere mortal,
Trapped in his web of infernal portal,
Only through faith and love,
Can I be lifted, to the heavens above.
So, I pray for salvation,
For a way out of this damnation,
To be free from Satan's yoke,
And find the peace that I invoke.
Begone Yoke!
Why abusing the brightly future leaders?
Okay, aren't they human, I ask?
Are they culpable, and not mild?
Or why imposing upon their innocence?
And purposes and value to bask?
Whether not belong to this world?
Again, do they not deserve rights?
What? Their divine aspirations to mask?
Once again, can't they be empowered?
© Lukman Nurudeen Adeniyi
The Oil Soft Yoke
Alas, the contest sponsors do expound
on how to sail your craft, and where it’s bound
thus must the muse-less vessels get in line
wander straight and never serpentine
for hearts are frail and distant widows peak
still hear cold vagrant cries of those who seek
a passage to a new world without rules
to build their frameless houses without tools.
And yet we stand in awe at castle gates
to view the masterpieces of the greats
ignore the splintered floors that bow and creak
believe the feather strong, the broadsword weak.
Embrace the furrowed rows, the oil soft yoke
for poetry when written ain’t no joke..
©12/24/2019
STRAND SPECIAL 8
JUST TO INCOMPATIBLE
NOT ON THE SAME PAGE
VIEWS ARE MUCH DIFFERENT
VALUES AREN'T THE SAME
NOT EQUAL AS CAN BE
THE SUNRISES TO LIGHT
FROM THE DARK SKIES AT NIGHT
ALMIGHTY TO GOD, WITH CONTINUE IN PRAYERS
THE VALLEYS ARE STEEP, THE TIMES SPENT
WEAKENED AS STRENGTHEN ABROAD
PRAYERS EACH MOMENT THROUGH IT ALL
GRACE AND MERCY GIVEN AGAIN
AS THE JOURNEY NOTES IS WRITTEN, A PAGE DISMISSED
A SCENE REALITY IS DISPLAYED
THE VIEW SEEMS REAL
THE HIDDEN DISCOVERY SUBMISSION
IF CAN DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN
A TIME TO THINK, A TIME TO REALIZE
NOT ALL BRIGHT LIGHTS LEAD TO SUNSHINE
DESTINY TAKEN PLACE
AS THE TIME GOES BY
A STAR SHINING BRIGHT
A TRUE GENUINE LOVE IS FOREVER
A NEW LIFE, PROSPEROUS, BLESSED JOURNEY DISCOVERED.
NOTE:
There are many differences when others are not compatible.
Not in most ways equal. Being on the same page, support, love, and lifting each other up is as very most important in growing, grow together in unity. With GOD. Love, encouraging, understanding, COMMUNICATION, LISTEN. Two people in unity as one. Healthier, and much better results manifest.
With my coming to Italy this summer of 2008
I’ve had the chance to reconnect with some friends;
Despite the looming weak dollar values in the market,
it has drawn me to fly and pick up my Italian so far.
The hot spells and overcrowded Milan Central Station,
have really made me struggle through the rush hours
Italians and other cultures continue to travel elsewhere
an interesting view, a melange of plans and destinations.
When I reached the city of Piacenza, my first leg for a visit
had a bit of recalling my sense of mem’ry and direction;
seemingly a problem as I tried to trace back the way
that leads to the place where I’d stay for a while.
Loathing Yokes
Hatred thrives.
Love dies
The heart cries.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 3, 2010
Poetic form: Senryu