Best Yokes Poems


Premium Member We Marched For the Madness of Mortality's Mayheim -

Warriors of austere adventures,
soldiers for suffering and tribe survival,
children,peasents,women & men,the penny poor & candid criminals,
proud peoples,honest heros,

we marched on all the flesh of earth,
no terrain was forbidden for the fantastic forbearence of the foriegn fighters,
campaigns on the cold clay of Europe's mountain valleys,
the smeltering sands of arid Arabia where the sanctuaries are shadows,
mundane manuevors upon the hot hills of the mutinational Meditterrain,
marching in spread points across Russia's frozen waters,
mildly marching single file through soft dirt along the massive Mississippi,
going above and beyond the shattered rock the Hindu Kush does pile,

forging fanaticaly in columns of two against angry winds that whirl and wail
amid the plateus of Peru where pain is pink and mercy mute,
motives for marching can be exquisitely egregious,or simple and sanctified
like the beating of a boy in order to make a man rather than a brute,

Hannibal climbed the hellish heights of the Alps,
Caeser acquired apotheosis by the grinding of Gaul,
the Khan of Asia killed for culture,
irreproachable rebels like Moses and Boudica fought for posterity,for legends,
Joseph Brant and Alaric broke yokes of the Imperial vulture,
Cincinatus pushed forward the march to ensure the peace with plough,
Tom Paine for freedom of expression,Joan of Arce burned for rapture,

simplicity brings relief,and sometimes joy while on the move,
oddities like  bluejays & baccon,
wonders such as hawks & large wildlife,
good things like clean water & a commrades cackle,
mysterious events of improvised spiritual ritual,omens deciphered
unique to each are rife,
in the snow & in the beach,through the mud,grass & crisp leaves we traverse
to bring the battle to the enemy,
to deliver the war with might,
we march so to bring the conflict to ourselves,
we march to meet,compete,and to defeat ourselves,
we march to meet our Maker's light -

J.A.B. %
Categories: yokes, history, march,
Form: Imagism

Premium Member FAITH IN GOD WHO IS INTREATED OF US

January 9 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Genesis 25-27

Key Verse – Genesis 25:21 And Isaac intreated the LORD for his wife, because she was barren: and the LORD was intreated of him, and Rebekah his wife conceived.

FAITH IN GOD WHO IS INTREATED OF US

God is intreated of us in our days of adversity 
Inside His goodness is where by faith, we dwell in His blessings’ bounty
Indeed, He brings us in His presence of serenity---
It fills our souls with contentment against feeling barren and empty.

God is intreated of us in our struggles 
Inside His will is where by faith, we separate from sin-wiggles
Indeed, He delivers us from cunning worldliness-tangles---
It fires our spirits against fainting due to deceit-bugles.

God is intreated of us in our famine and nothingness 
Inside His provision is where by faith, we stay with productiveness
Indeed, He charges us to obey His commands of purposiveness---
It finds our hearts satisfied in digging for genuine joyfulness.

God is intreated of us in our striving 
Inside His might is where by faith, we abide for strength-receiving
Indeed, He builds us up while we submit to His divine carving---
It establishes our trust in His covenant to which we are cleaving.

God is intreated of us in our dimness of vision 
Inside His light is where by faith, we behold His loving compassion
Indeed, He shines on us as we obey His voice for the great commission---
It brings our eyes to radiate with His truth’s infusion, conquering confusion.

God is intreated of us in our prayers’ fervency
Inside His wisdom is where by faith, we discern with urgency
Indeed, He answers us with His presence and mercy---
It moves our conviction to arise midst supplication-consistency.

God is intreated of us in our need-caused crying 
Inside His protection is where by faith, we win over iniquities’ lying
Indeed, He sustains us from doubt, unbelief and anxiety’s sighing---
It breaks our yokes from vain and useless wearying. Amen!

January 9, 2025
8th place, "A 2025 POSTED POEM" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/11/2025
Categories: yokes, bible, blessing, christian, faith,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Lord God, You Are My Holy Redeemer

July 16 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Isaiah 46-50

Key Verse – Isaiah 47:4 As for our redeemer, the LORD of hosts is his name, the Holy One of Israel.

LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY HOLY REDEEMER			

Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst sinful burden
Thank You for pulling me out against downfalls of pride so sudden
Away from troubles of transgressions’ warden
To bring me to Your salvation-garden. 

Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst corrupt pollution
Thank You for taking me out against yokes of pleasures’ destruction
Away from wickedness’ perversion
To drive me to Your holiness-function. 

Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst obstinate stubbornness
Thank You for releasing me out against treacherous deceitfulness
Away from affliction of falsity’s illness
To propel me to Your Word-truthfulness. 

Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst infirmity’s fatality
Thank You for plucking me out against crises of no prosperity
Away from false teachings’ uncertainty
To lead me to Your direction-stability. 

Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst vain judgment
Thank You for rescuing me out against despicable entanglement
Away from dark prisons’ encampment
To guide me to Your comfort-settlement. 

Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst continual wastage
Thank You for preserving me out against secularism’s spoilage
Away from carnality’s hostage
To carry me to Your fellowship-advantage. 

Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst iniquities’ reign
Thank You for freeing me out against selfishness’ strain
Away from rebelliousness of smiting sprain
To usher me to walk along obedience-terrain.

July 16, 2023
Categories: yokes, blessing, christian, faith, god,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Belizean Blend

BELIZEAN BLEND

In the beginning it was the Yucatec, the Mopan and  Kekchi  as well
Who came from the steppes of Asia where nomads dwell
They fished and farmed milpas, in paradise; away from hell
Some building great civilizations that, for many reasons, eventually fell

Then came the Spaniards whose ambivalence; mixed feelings
Caused them to waver in subsequent dealings
Killed some natives, driven off by others
In the end did not settle; wasn’t worth the bother

Displaced by the British, rowdy pirates turn woodcutters
Who made laws and build infrastructure down to the gutters
Cut logwood, then mahogany for powerful and wealthy folks
Then, to satisfy greed, sought others to enslave in yokes

Africans from Jamaica and Bermuda transshipped
Then as chattel they were frequently whipped
Stolen from Africa, becoming the major labor force
Dehumanized and tortured for centuries without  remorse

Mestizos fleeing oppressors in the Yucatan
The War of Castes brought them from beyond
Working as chicleros and cane cutters
As a way of providing   ‘ bread and butter’

Garinagu deported from St. Vincent as a form of punishment
Many dying in their odyssey , their massive predicament
Survive , resiliently, on the rebound
A proud people, with culture and learning very sound

Mennonites coming to enjoy religious freedom and peace
Avoiding persecution for a life of ease
Providing furniture, low cost poultry and eggs
Reducing the cadre of many that beg

From India and China they were duped and brought
As indentured servants who were hastily sought
Later as merchants and shopkeepers they came
Voluntarily this time, which is not nearly the same

Backpackers and excursionists everywhere
In a world where they’re free to choose elsewhere
Not part of the earlier diaspora
But manifestations of a new plethora
Categories: yokes, community, poetry, political, society,
Form: Epic

Premium Member The City of Pity

Harlot rides the scarlet colored beast,
 "the rich, fat cats having a feast.” 
Come now ten horns of ten fables
Loose the yokes of uneven gables

Babylon, Babylon the great
Ten nations shall furnish your plate
Mystery Babylon the great
Economic icon is greed’s mate

Mother of all mothers the harlot
Bloody wars ride beast colored scarlet
Scarlet beast borne econ harlot
Waste the city, the econ starlet

Two pillows, of knees bowed low
Beneath ashen face has lost its glow
The Caterpillars’ hum has ceased
The new city shall weep for peace

For one day in a month in a year
A sign shall appear in a sphere
Those that sigh, shall understand
Fled into many mountains stand

False liberty is of God forsaken    
Prepare for this rude awakening 
False pie in the sky is too high
Still, fat cats ask the poor to comply
===================
Written 10/10/2011
Categories: yokes, introspection,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Prayer

Power of God touches us through prayer

Restores strength to do things the best we can

A time to receive the Holy Spirit that makes us move

Yielding His love as we climb high mountains



Anytime we whisper it

Lift our hearts and follow His will

We run to Him and ask His help

Amazing graces, He will shower upon us

Yokes laid on our shoulders will be overcome

Soon, we can walk over sadness and trials


May 16, 2014 10a.m
©2014by Leonora Galinta

Note: This is a beginning and end lines acrostic poem

Sixth Place
Contest: Acrostic End-Line Word
Judged: 5/16/14
Sponsor: Poet Jared Pickett


First Place
Contest:Acrostic Time #1
Judged: 8/18/2014
Sponsor: Poetess PD/Linda
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: yokes, prayer,
Form: Acrostic


Fables

What are our millennium fables?
Women keep giving each other labels,
No harmony for our ecology,
An alliance should be our synergy,
No accountability for the economy,
No wise leaders to steer us to unity,
Century's getting older, folks!
Any teamwork to cast off these yokes?
Symbiosis should aim at harmony,
Let's pray for millennium synergy!
Categories: yokes, allusion, environment, leadership, women,
Form: Free verse

The Rain-Bow Nation

Hey!
are 
you 
a 
Zulu? 
Am 
a 
Bushman...no 
you 
are 
a 
Bantu,a 
Bantu 
or 
Hottentots? 
Maybe 
an 
Afrikaner.                          
I 
came 
from 
the 
Cape 
Colony...not 
from 
Soweto 
where"balck 
animals"are 
Dwelling, 
pathetic 
Creatures 
formed 
by 
the 
Hands 
of 
Hades.
Beast 
of 
burden 
for 
the 
Afrikaner.
Bound 
with 
fetters 
and 
Chains,it 
ploughs 
the 
Field,cultivates 
and 
plants 
The 
seed 
of 
sedition..alas!
These 
beasts 
un-
wind 
their 
yokes;to 
be 
human.
Can 
a 
leopard 
change 
its 
Spots?
Yes 
these 
animals
Prophesied.
Lo!
what 
do 
I 
now 
see?
No 
Beast 
of 
burden 
to 
till 
our 
Land 
rather 
they 
dwell 
Among 
us.
Alas! 
their 
prophecy 
lives!
Categories: yokes, hate, inspiration, inspirational, satire,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member Joy Luck Club

The tale is shared
Vivid and bold,
To air old cares,
To redeem souls.


The journey starts
In old China;
So many parts,
Lost agendas!


The journey ends
On distant shores;
East-West now blend
Fond tales and more.


These women folk
Shared ancient roots,
Burdens and yokes,
Like bamboo shoots.


A common thread
Connects a whole:
Share rice and bread
From soul to soul.


Old China paved
The westward flow;
New life we braved
With much to show.


The old-world charm
Echoes and calls:
Rice fields and farms,
Smells we recall.


There was a time
Not quite the same;
Language and rhymes,
Pictograms names.


There was a world
On eastern shores,
Where peasant twirls
Inched basic core.


We bore our loads 
With anxious hearts,
Survived harsh roads;
Full-filled our parts.


Old echoes call 
With vivid chant;
Weary feet stall,
Life seeks implants.




Leon Enriquez
Written: 17 February 2010
Singapore
(16 May 2017)
Categories: yokes, change,
Form: Quatrain

Viking Kenning's Field

where bones are picked cleaned by talons crook's of raven-wives                                      like steely ice-picks dripping of the Valkyries                                                              verb-thieves of morpheme drain the meaning                                                                    through sunken wind-eyes of cloudy skulls in the sky                                                         the bearer of speech-figures  forums of a Norman's-ransack                                       shutting one's eye bare-shirts run away                                                                            to rid hawk's ground of Kenna's-abode
yore's measure-tree nigher are's not having                                                               scrapes-inn but all are vital framers-anvil lost tropes of the metaphor                                 this saga was shy not a peep from windows of the folk                                                       so now  I must not cut but again write not to RE:WRITE                                                     so some can better see learning knew ways breaking yokes                                          free verse at first but now a inquisitive rhyme                                                             Word meanings fly away through  windows of time                                                      snatched by Harpy's torn from memory                                                                   buried in the field of a long ago rhyme                                                                            but digging deep you find teasures stolen by Valkyries                                                      like a grotesque pic surely strown by death's scythe                                                      arm loads of gold stored ready weapons for another warrior                                       which in another time may be erased but not today hold the sword's wife                         writing again holding high and protecting the courier of the quarrier                                by word of scop not to stop but increase your scope
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: yokes, change, education, history, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member For Children of War and Other Deceptions

For Children of War and Other Deceptions

The load of time
weigh heavy 
on the yokes of life;
the unshelled shelled.
Gone.
Innocence of children
preyed upon;
life failed to root itself.

Janus face war genuflects
craving forgiveness; 
praising its necessity.
Categories: yokes, analogy, children, death, imagery,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member The Stars Remain Silent

From the ashes of superstition,
like a Phoenix we have risen!
As he puts on his White Lab Coat
of Unthinkable Wisdom.
In reality... yet constantly dreaming.
Under a microscope he tries to find meaning.
Building blocks of existence,
a scientist's relentless persistence
to become acquaintances with amoeba,
and lay to rest the concept of Jesus.
He freely yokes himself to Outer Space,
the new found teacher.
As human beings take the name
Foreign Creature.
Oh the absurd games we play!
The Rights of Men and Marriage Vows.
Have we not passed the primitive
worship of common cows?

... and yet consequently we set
up Courts for Carrots,
Lawyers for Lemons.
You think you can argue
for such a thin concept
as the Principles of Free Men?

Morality, she can take a coffee break
(it's only the future of everything that's at stake).
Whose to say that 2+2 doesn't equal five
when we can't even say for certain
that Man is alive.

As Mr. Wisdom
scratches his head and straightens his coat,
he so bravely boasts the edict of edicts:
pray tell what is Good and what is Evil?
Orbital Rotation spins his head around
and stubborn Gravity refuses to give him
the low down.

"I'd trade all the Hows for a single Why!
But the Universe never bargains.
Mirrors reflecting mirrors,
can't tip the scales in my favor
by the slightest margin."

Absolute Truths - we forgot 'em.
Your guess is as good as mine.
We the Soulless and We the Proud
so happily crossed line.

Our make belief code of ethics
simply cannot coexist with Darwinian Violence.
While we keep asking questions
answered two millenia prior:
Why am I here? WHY AM I HERE?
And the stars remain silent.
Categories: yokes, analogy, bible, jesus, philosophy,
Form:

Goose Spelling a Definition

Geese are
Not gifted
Spellers.

They write
Poems
In their eggs.

The letters
Cannot
Be separated
From their yokes.

In the court
Of the Blue King
Atrocious spelling
Is called “Goose-spelling.”

Turn of phrases
That cannot
Be separated
From its image.

Conversely Wicked spelling
Is known as Dragon-spelling.
Where quatrains
May spontaneously combust
Burning the finger
Of luckless scribes.
Categories: yokes, fantasy, imagination, inspirational, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World

The blind and the weary, are up from the trenches
To climb into chaos, they'll walk across tightropes
where no one has noticed the ebb and the sway
Now lost in the fury, they are mixed in the slurry
where mindless distraction has swallowed the day

They scatter their money on things that won't matter
Like hunters, they gather, checking their watches
Shattering silence with small satisfaction
No cause for reflection, and nothing to say

Searching for something.  At what price the glory
While nothing of value, piles high to the rafters
Tumbling downward, into cobwebs and corners 
Cracking the shell of a world that is hollow
leaving behind only yokes that are gray

______________________________________________________



For Contest Sponsored By Silent One "A Poem About A Song"
Based on the Song: "Mad World" 5/24/17
Categories: yokes, introspection, people, social, society,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Lacking

There are in the world, at least two types of folks
there are some living comfy and those under the yokes.

If you’re of the former, eating three squares per day,
when you look at the latter, do you cast them away?

Do you feel in your heart, anything but repulsion?
From an ill-conceived fear do you cry their expulsion?

Ghostly wolves hide among them, so you turn a blind eye
and it makes you feel safer, letting innocents die.

You say you’re correct, and you say it is smart,
to ignore all the suffering and to harden the heart.

Truth is: you’re a coward hiding up in your loft
and when asked for compassion, you shrugged and you scoffed.

Then you offered yourself a nice pat on the back,
and despite all your riches -- of real substance: you lack.  

8/21/16
For Contest: Couplet Time-
Hosted By: Rick Parise
Categories: yokes, america, conflict, judgement, pain,
Form: Couplet
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