Best Yoked Poems
I am the MILKY WAY.
I am Mechanically Meticulous,
Maneuvering my way through life with
Malleability,
not showing the true Masterpiece of my Mind
(complex like the Milky Way).
I am an Interworking of
1% Idiocracy,
10% Ineluctable,
15% Incisiveness,
5% Insufficient,
7.5% Insatiable,
2.5% Invisible,
10% Infantile,
and
50% Incomprehensible,
101% of Ian
(A puzzle).
I am a Lionheart Lilium
Lucidly blossoming into a
Lackadaisical dimension
in which I Long to Liberate
my ideas from the Lucifer-Likeness of
the universe that I Live in
(My ideas are being confined).
I am a Kinetic force to be reckoned with,
put on a Kollision Kourse from
Konception to Katastrophe
eradicating those in my way,
(I can’t be stopped)
I am Young,
Yearning for wisdom ahead of my Years,
Yet Yoked by the Youth-like longing
of my elders
(caged by the generations of adults wishing to be a child, keeping me child-like).
I am Weary,
Wainscoted with Worry,
by the World I once Welcomed With Wide arms,
Wondering When the Worries created by my past Will
Wither away
(distressed by my past).
I Am An Adventurous
Apollo 1,
Abstracted then Awakened by the
Annihilation of myself,
forced to Admit
Absolute failure,
but then Amazed by the gate of success
(I do Fail, but I must learn from failure).
I am Yawning
at the Earth’s attempt to impress me,
Yet I Yell eternally
at it’s ignorance to the
great wonder that I contain.
I am the MILKY WAY.
Categories:
yoked, space,
Form:
Alliteration
(This a new Version created using many editing suggestions from Linda:)
I picked you up
like a “shiny” newly minted copper penny
it was your kitten fur voice
O how you would hate that...
the avocado texture of it
with which
no matter what wild wicked hour I would call you
you would answer
You shimmered like sunlight
on the forest floor of my needles of neediness
glinted off the shiny chrome and twilight blinders of my
“made to order” searcher’s soul
You were the perfect portent
with your torrents of torment
to wash clean my jet and emerald caves
Or was it you who found me?
a white gem
silent, hidden behind my poetry
sitting in a seat in that Inn
listening to the hues of blues
stenciling the deep red shards of my heart
onto the unlined pages
of a blank black journal
I wore cool light blue and soft sheet cotton
like a cloud-kissed sky
I was light as air and as deep as “a thousand leagues under the sea”
You became my heroic touchstone,
my one true thing sapphire-sparked rock of glory
I hung you around my neck
oxen yoked myself with the weight of you
I hung myself
faithfully -to “my cross to bear”
your endless denial of our love.
You were lithe…thin as a straw… tall as a poplar
white as ash and grey as coal
except for the orange hot fire in the center ring
....of your cigarette
I mistook it for the flames of our unearthly love
It was just the firmament of your eternal coolness reflecting back
the stars of my own piercing need
Yoked by my own wanton weave … I drove on blindly
mind spider webbed
the ghost of your emotion-less carcass draped around my neck
“Leave no man behind”
I know you laughed and told them
that it was just a fire pit left in a cave
by the Queens of the Stone Age -Some loud, angry band you loved
Less real to you
by far more ethereal and ever lost in time to me
than the new found “writing on the wall”
Categories:
yoked, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
Oh death once had us
Yoked to you in slavery
From our wickedness
And rejecting the only true God
We built idols of stone and wood
But there was no response
When calling out
Oh death you once had us
That we would put trust in the stargazers
To tell us of the future
And believe those
Who are considered
To be the most wise of man
But these foolish thoughts
Are from this world below
And doesn't comprehend
The beauty of your love
And your plan from above
Oh death you once had us
To believe
That all sinners are all going to Hades
That there is no hope for the bad
With the mindset
That we are good
And the bad will be cast
Into the lake of fire
Well oh death
You have lost your sting
Jesus has placed
You under his feet
It is finished
Death could not hold him to earth
The yoke has been broken
Jesus with his breath
Has sent the spirit of fire
Across this earth
To burn away the oldman
That was born to this world
For Jesus I ask you
To keep my old man here
In the lake of fire
And mold and purify me
Of all my impurities
That by your will
I might be made acceptable
And receive the seal of life
That one needs
To enter your Kingdom
That I shall become less each day
And more of you
Categories:
yoked, christian,
Form:
Free verse
(In 1807, Beethoven wrote a piano/violin
piece with this title. Count Leo Tolstoy
followed in 1890, with a short novel of the
same name, in which he argued that
matrimony can never work.)
What is a marriage? A fusion, or a tether?
Two very different creatures, yoked together?
I was a piano, you a violin:
I, solid, calming, you, discordant, thin,
and laced with bitterness. I was your base,
and you provided brio, flourish, grace.
A lacewing trapped inside a window frame,
yet driven by one blind, unchanging aim,
you struggled up until, played out, defeated,
you fluttered down again, debased, depleted.
A war's a love affair, and love's a war.
We're so inept - or what's a heaven for?
A nest of wasps, my grievances boiled over -
but could there ever be a vita nuova?
We never learned. I hammered pointlessly,
while you abraded. Why could we not see?
And so I played it stately, sad, no frills,
while you kept up your repetitions, trills
and variations. Hovering and wary,
you shunned my structures. Ever more contrary,
you coiled and squirmed in spasms both continuous,
spontaneous, free-wheeling, lithe and sinuous.
It seemed to me the harmony had gone:
we sang on, yes, but each a separate song.
Two butterflies together, intertwined,
we tangled on the same, but different, line.
Categories:
yoked, marriage, relationship,
Form:
Couplet
I deferred the words " I love you"
Until the morrows light.
Words, that from my heart,
I felt impressed upon to say.
For sure, "I love you",
Would have best been said that night.
Still I reserved ownership,
For perhaps some abstinent day.
Instead, from my vast reserve,
Grating words were launched to flight.
Words that once I'd spent,
Could never be recanted.
I had failed miserably,
At living life in the moment.
So, doting on another days sight,
I had taken our time for granted.
The next day's sun, I found,
Rose not for both alike.
Albiet the sky was blue and bright,
My day was overcast.
For from my life,
I allowed to slip, a love untold,
Now I'm forever yoked with regrets might,
Hard and fast.
Regret is felt always when it is too late.
Categories:
yoked, death, faith, father, inspirational,
Form:
Lyric
Love wrapped itself around my heart with a chain not meant to be broken. That was the way it was supposed to be, for I had no intention of ever choosing to break free. In marriage we were yoked by sentiments that once were real, but were lost somewhere along the way. Through fate or destiny, there is no release from love's infernal dance. My heart was left without a clue, wondering why things went wrong, and so it laments in songs of misery.
singing forlorn blues
emotions, falling as tears
refrains from my heart
No cries for mercy will ever set my heart free from knotted ropes of memories. I'm tethered in arrested custody; a caged bird, a lonesome dove whose cheeks are salted from rivers wept. Lost is the key to open the lock that would unshackle me. I've lifted the veil, my Wizard of Oz curtain, by writing about my heartache in lyrical sonnets. Yet, I still travel down the yellow brick road...alone, searching for a way to bring my heart back home.
just drifting along
seeking a haven of calm
for my heart to mend
December 24, 2020
Curtains Of Your Heart Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Categories:
yoked, longing, lost love,
Form:
Haibun
Crisp clean air gently expanding my lungs
Infinite pigments of vivid dazzling lights
Painted illumination masterfully hung
Washing over my body and brain
Gradually tampering down
My intermittent slices of insane
Tenderly reposing my weary mind
I Lie my head where the universes
Polished stars divinely shine
Nature surrounds my earthly bed
Glimpses of cascading brilliant color
Dancing through the evening sky
Soulfully digested, nourished and fed
A blanket that radiates glistening hues
For only my molten laden eyes to see
My breathe suddenly is eased, cleansed
For it has yoked the omnipotent to me
Silently retraining my brain
Gradually tampering down
My intermittent slices of insane
word count 109
Categories:
yoked, stars,
Form:
Rhyme
I’m a good woman, beautiful
I know my worth
I deserve a man who is good for me
Not a narsusis who don’t care about who he hurt
I know my worth
I respect him and he respect me
We would be Equally yoked
He would stand up for me
And love me quietly
We won’t tell our business to anybody
Until God blesses me with that kind of love
I’ll just thank God for what I have, find my purpose and thank God that I am blessed
I’d rather be plain hard to get
To any man
I’m worth his patience
I understand
That I am the prize
That I am a blessing from the most high
I know my worth
I need a man who is confident and
When he see me he know that we can grow
Together spiritually
And I am THE option and not an option
When he see me,No other woman matter
His eye is on me
The one knows his Queen
Categories:
yoked, beautiful, christian, confidence, devotion,
Form:
Rhyme
Scriptures declare that believers be true
to be faithful to Christ always in His way
being not unequally yoked to unbelievers
obeying God's word stand fast they would stay
Righteousness can't compare with lawlessness
it's totally opposite having nothing in common
just like back and white so colourfully distinct
remember your place not to be forgotten
A believers fellowship needs are akin
to those of similar likened taste
so that unity blends uniquely together
making your pilgrimage have no waste
The sweet communion of believers faith
be full of Christ's abundant light
giving no room for any darkness
making fellowship such precious sight
Believers need be equally yoked
filled with Christ's love for each one
enticing others of what's true love
be separate unto Christ God's son
(Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness? What accord has Christ with Belial? Or what portion does a believer share with an unbeliever? What agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we are the temple of the living God; as God said,
“I will make my dwelling among them and walk among them,
and I will be their God,
and they shall be my people.
Therefore go out from their midst,
and be separate from them, says the Lord,
and touch no unclean thing;
then I will welcome you,
and I will be a father to you,
and you shall be sons and daughters to me,
says the Lord Almighty.”)
2 Corinthians 6: 14-18 (ESV)
Categories:
yoked, bible, jesus, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
Joy and pain…
Sun and rain…
Love and disdain-
Opposites existing simultaneously
To its own detriment.
One cancelling out the other…
Parasitic and unevenly yoked.
Through thick cumulative clouds
I was the sun…
The flow of light
In and out of her rain…
Creating rainbows of
Misty colors between
Our different mediums
We clash…
Much like the uneven
Heating of the Earth’s surface
As cold meets warm-
A flow of wind between
Our boundaries
That violently blows…
Juxtapose-
Categories:
yoked, life
Form:
Free verse
Crowned in beauty bright as the morning star
you Mother of all Mothers Divinely created by far
Mother of good counsel ,
Mystical Rose
Seat of wisdom,
Woman of Divine Grace;
Guide me and protect me in all I say and do
Gowned in light you are yoked to Christ the King
whenever you appear all the angels choral-sing
Mother of Mercy
Comforter of the ill
Gate of Heaven
Morning Star
Bring forth your rays and your miracles of love
you Mother of all Mothers Divinely created above
Morning Star
Queen Of Angels
crowned in beauty bright as the liquid night ,
more scented that the Rose of pearly white
Place us all, underneath your Holy Mantle
Amen !
Categories:
yoked, appreciation, mother,
Form:
Free verse
O man, the ground is cursed because of you,
and all your days are labor filled with pain.
The harvests from the field are meager, few,
burned by the sun, drowned by torrential rain.
The thorns and thistles, plotting, will conspire
to join as an impenetrable foe;
unceasingly, to never weaken, tire,
they add still further misery to your woe.
And if perchance a gracious yield abounds,
‘tis not yet time to lay your weary head;
thy beast of burden, yoked, must make its rounds,
trod out the grain to make the daily bread.
And yet, the lot of man: to work the soil,
raise drink in thanks, find joy amongst the toil.
----------
Categories:
yoked, joy, work,
Form:
Sonnet
Alphabetical animals all around:
Angry army ants,
Busy buzzing bees,
Carousing calico cats,
Dancing dolphin duo,
Eerie electric eels
Fancy feathered flamingos,
Graceful grey geese,
Harmless hairy hamsters,
Interesting itchy insects,
Jolly Japanese jellyfish,
Karate kicking kangaroos,
Lonely little lizards,
Many mischievous monkeys,
Numerous nearsighted newts,
Old ornery otters,
Pretty pink pelicans.
Quick quacking quail,
Rockin’ Red Robins,
Slimy sea slugs,
Terrifying Tibetan tigers,
Upstanding undulating umbrellabirds,
Vicious vandalizing vultures,
Warbling white whipperwills,
Exotic examining extraterrestrials,
Yellow yoked yaks,
Zonked zoo zebras.
Categories:
yoked, animal,
Form:
Alliteration
Translation of Cuppiramania Bharathiyar’s poem: Kannamma, My Love! (Kannamma En Kaathali) by T. Wignesan
Yet another poem by the most famous modern Tamil poet, written a century ago – despite the commonplace imagery – follows in the original very complex classical Tamil prosodic rules in the execution of initial and end-rhymes, alliteration in each line and in the immediate and successive lines as a whole, the inner rhymes of assonance and consonance notwithstanding. The non-Tamil can best savour these poetic and/or musical qualities by listening to the version of the poem set to music, and here sung by Mahathi:
YouTubeFR: Aasai Mugam Jukebox – Songs of Bharathiyar – Tamil Patriotic Songs (It’s the 4th song down on the left column)
Does not the endearing warmth of our mutual gaze – Kannamma
Reflect the light of the sun and moon alike?
Does not the precious circular eye – Kannamma
Dispel the darkness of the skies?
Dressed in deep blue-black silk – the sari
Inlaid with choice diamonds
While in the core of pitch darkness – glitter
The scintillating stars – Dear-Girlie!
Does not the blossoming grove fade – lit by your
Illuminating smile?
Even as blue-tinted sea waves –your
Breast heaves in unison – Girlie-Dear!
Just as the enticing cuckoo call – your
Sweet dulcet tones invade, My Dear!
O! You unspoilt young maiden! – Kannamma!
The bridal feast* has yoked my heart, alas!
You speak of comparing birth-charts* - Kannamma
What avails such astrological omens?
For those who can hardly repress yearning – Kannamma
Might the stars forebode greater bliss?
If our elders will bestow approval – nuptial
Arrangements we will later formalize
Will I be waiting for you, My Dear – to seal
Our vows – plant I this kiss on your cheek!
Notes
• According to Hindu custom, the brides’s family has to offer a sumptuous dinner to the formally-invited bride-groom.
• Hindu marriages are often contracted after verification of
birth-charts, drawn up by astrologers, to ascertain the compatibility of the bride to the bride-groom.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Categories:
yoked, girlfriend, innocence, longing, love,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I remember how I cried
The day my father died.
The doctor laid the blame
When he said that cancer came:
Lymph nodes, lungs,
Philosophy of Carl Jung,
Words of explanation
For everything, no blame,
Too late for shame.
The final service was long.
I tried to be strong.
But the stench of red carnations
Can still fill my imagination,
People’s faces,
Words of the Lord’s graces.
Planted in a peaceful lawn,
For the shell of this world is gone,
Yoked into heavenly bliss.
But, when I think of him
There's so much we missed.
I remember how I’ve sighed,
Thinking of my dad with pride.
I’d sit on his knee
My ear to his chest,listening to him hum,
And he’d give me his pennies for free.
He would mow, I’d sweep,
Then we’d have a snow cone treat.
Poles, bait bucket, tackle box,
Days we spent fishing from piers and docks.
Hair black like Elvis’,
Ears and features like Clark Gable’s,
Loud animated stories
Of his oil company job,
At the dinner table.
Fedora, big pleated trousers,
A pocket watch on a chain,
When I close my eyes
I can see him again.
I look in the mirror and can see his eyes,
Staring back at me in an eternal guise.
He didn’t live on to see me grown,
Missed out conversation on the problems I’ve known.
But his gifts of life,
And his gifts of earthly love
Still ground me on earth,
Angelically guarding and guiding
Like the finest made glove
Existing throughout our human family's
Journey of love.
Categories:
yoked, daughter, family, father, imagination,
Form:
Elegy