Chalice Poems | Examples

Wasted Crown

I have seen the destitute in their health and company, 
More joyful than a lonely king languishing on his throne:

On his deathbed, you see him defeatedly lay,  
With not a single reason to stay.  
His cure wasn’t served in a golden chalice,  
And his gloomy prison was his mighty palace.  
Nor were the beasts of fate taken by his knight,  
Thus was weakened by the attack of night.  
He assumed he could buy respect and love,  
But his erroneous thought was not from above.  
Perishing like darkness by the break of dawn,  
Folly stole his youth; he's a dying fawn.  
But despite all ills, he remains there still,  
On bed, waiting for destiny's ride downhill.

THE CHALICE

I the chalice
Overflow with letters
Sylabuls similes vowels

Fusing them together
Written by the feather
A quill in the past

Now on a tablet
Notebook with biro
The words still flow

Poetry is my muse
I try not to confuse
The words written to help

Society from destruction
People self identify
Freedom to ask WHY ?

Words have no agenda
Font can be slender
together are powerful

written words from poets
Inner thoughts of life
Not just anguish and strife

Subjects on any matter
Similes on a platter
Pronouns are historic

The chalice overflows
words above does show
Keep writing makes a glow

Blood Stained Chalice

Swimming in a pool of blood-
Baptized in my own sins. 

Dancing with my demons
Almost as though we were friends. 

Soaking in my misery- 
And I cannot evade.

The memories inside of me -
That I relive every day. 

I've tried to understand.
Why I deserved the wrath of rage.

Or why I had to suffer-
By the hands of the deranged. 

No matter what I've done- 
(to) erase these visions in my mind.

They leech off of my soul - 
And they don't leave much life behind.

I try to carve the voices out-
Which buzz inside my skull.

But then they all pour out-
And overflow my cup, so full. 

And then without a second thought-
I'll drink that full cup down. 

And then the voices, yet again -
Replace silence, with their sound.

Nearing the Chalice With Malice

Time for Holy Communion and chalice
Not one for Methuselah-old malice;
You ought to have dumped it at church entrance
To sought redemption give the fullest chance;
Holy Communion with spiritual police 
Watches the terribly upset Alice,
Who is right now doing an asked Lord’s Dance
With a rock of a heart and concealed lance.
We all can guess your lame consolation,
Times without number man’s desolation:
“Cord God’s superabundant mercies 
He makes sure He applies to all cases.”

This is nearing the chalice with malice
By one sure malice can withstand chalice.

Winter Chalice

It was on that quiet night, while all the roses rested and reposed 
that the angels appeared in the Chalice of winter's bright lit snow

Night

In shiny armor knights of old,
Only quests for the brave and bold,
Famed Holy Grail chalice to hold.
But my heavy chalice isn’t gold,
Mine is night black and filled with cold,
About death is my story told,
A memory covered in mold.

Not expected plain death, you see,
When older age exacts a fee,
Known illness, not surprisingly.
That night was never planned, by me.
Unexpected, this was to be
Black night, black car, walking was she,
Killing her, instantaneously.

Still awake with thoughts of the dead,
My black cup overfilled with dread,
Remembering every word she said
Since shining day when we were wed.
Quest for peace now my daily bread,
Weariness drops my heavy head,
My chalice of the night, from A to Zed.



January 24, 2022
Contest: The Chalice of Night
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
.

Chalice of Darkness

Chalice of Darkness

Buried deep inside the blinded eye of midnight
 My fugitive heart,
Homeless in winter’s frozen wrath,
Seeks an abyss with rotund borders –
A rounded vault of endorphic sacredness
Overflowing with elixirs of metamorphosis
Born from dark dry crystals of crisis –
 Angles of anxiety –
Dark womb no sepulcher for magic of wonder.

Rotunda made with sacred walls of purple heart
Where stamens and pistils entwine,
Ferment to maturity in a lightless vessel,
To press against the wholeness of their birthing cup
 	In a goblet of a chrysalis catacomb
Ecstasy bidding my weeds of mourning
Flame within the grail of martyrs
 To pollinate, despite shades of gloom,
Blooms rising above this cupola of blessings.

1-24-21
Contest: Chalice of Darkness
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke 

Purple heart is a hardwood that when cut reveals a nature purple color.
A chalice is a cup.  It is also the interior shape of a flower.

The Chalice of Night

Pain pierces, like switch blades, within, I bleed, 
Howls of dry weary lands, in mind, I heed;
Heart, haunted, endlessly hustles-bustles,
Sleep so sleepless; fright in fearful puzzles; 
Love; its loss; its longing; long languishing,
My chalice is bitter; peace-vanishing...

I hate; yet, her face blows glows everywhere,
Like fallen angel; grayish grave mirror; 
Broken into thousand cubes; she in each,
Smiling, laughing; crying; with breach and bleach;
Taunting, tearing, teasing abundantly, 
Pain of this bitter chalice sores bluntly...

It's not like Jesus Christ choosing his cross,
Nor like Sisyphus with boulder did toss;
It’s a battle between me and my self,
Worsened with her entry, like tight-locked shelf;
Leave me, cheat, who, now, in another's hug,
I'll drink this cup; die in the grave I've dug...


24 January 2022 
The Chalice of Night Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke

The Chalice of Night

Oh, drink from the chalice of night.
It is here, my dear, only for you.
Come to me on this starry night
if romance you choose to pursue.

Imbibe, if you will, the sweetest wine.
Oh, drink from the chalice of night.
Come savor these soft lips of mine.
Be drunken with me on delight.

Beneath the moon so full and bright -
like this goblet glistening gold -
oh, drink from the chalice of night.
Your body I’m longing to hold.

Come rock with me, darling, till dawn.
We’ll be soaring to passion’s height,
so until the last drop is gone,
oh, drink from the chalice of night.

Jan. 23, 2022
N/A in The Chalice Of Night Poetry Contest
for Sotto Poet's Your Second Chance 1St Poetry  Contest

Chalice of the Night

She visits me in the darkness of night;
a soulless winged creature of vampire lore.
A shadowless shadow that shuns the light;
she softly scratches at my bedroom door.

With my heart pounding, I opened the door;
rapturously under her ghoulish trance. 
And after we kissed, I craved something more,
as we swirled in the throws of our blood dance.

And we waltzed to the very edge of time;
drinking deep from the chalice of the night.
Slightly nervous, my anxieties climb,
for every vampire's kiss starts with a bite.

Yet, as befitting creatures of the night,
our silhouettes morph into bats in flight.

Night Has Spilled It's Chalice

Night has spilled  it's crimson chalice
across the horizon
Feathered color spreads along the bottom 
of the bone white clouds
  the center ball slips too soon below
and from the spilt chalice flows
 navy darkness....and ever deepening ink
creeping and seeping
 chasing the color down
 lowing it all away

Then from the highest heights piercing
             pin points of light 

and rising up to them...
with tomorrow's sun 
refecting
 off the blasted surface
A white grey moon
to haunt and woo
It's light
kissing the wave tips
stealing the brilliant bait from each
and running up into me 

I  am lost in the shimmering 
serenade
 Swayed into a hope... I didn't see coming
Bedazzled and bejeweled in enticing light

as if the shore and sky could join 
inside me 
like a wafting song that floats in the night

I stop and hold my breath...to listen and not miss one
note

Chalice of the Night- Reality Or Illusion

Thirst! Thirst!
Scorching thirst!
What a terrible night!

From head to groin
From hip to tip,
Fire rages.
My entrails shriek and crackle,
As twigs in a forest fire.
My nostrils flare,
With the reeking smell of burnt flesh.
My tongue and gullet,
Melt like plastic on exposure to heat.
Like a hornbill,
I thirst for a drop of water.

Wow! Before me is poised a chalice,
Full to the brim
With scarlet, bubbling liquid
As elixir, suddenly lowered from Heaven!
Extending my hands to hold it
And drawing it close to lips
Oh! How I missed it by a whisker!

By what magic
By what vanishing trick
From my chalice of the night, 
The wine drained out
Leaving not even the lees

What terrible betrayal!
Its dry emptiness
Stared at me 
      
I felt myself gyrating in darkness
      
Was it a dream or an illusion?
Reality or fantasy?

21. Jan. 2022
The Chalice of Night Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Chantelle Ann Cooke

This Chalice of Night

It beckons, this chalice of night,
brooding beneath the limpid film
of gossamer and stolen light.

It preys, this chalice of night,
on satiations longing need
to quaff, to quench, a darkened seed.

It’s curse, this chalice of night,
it’s emptiness a lunar arc
that starts and ends as fluid dark.

It holds, this chalice of night,
a taste of sanguine revelry’s
moonlit curse of devilry.

©1/20/2022

The Chalice of Night Poetry Contest

Chalice of Night

Open lotuses of purple and indigo hues 
casting spells beneath lawny skies of midnight blue  
each brilliant star more sparkly then the next by heaven's roam;  

Like shooting fireflies and minuets of silent reveries,
the neon fairies claim the quiet waters of the Thame,  
as lilies glide inside slow gentle rain ....
Opuses of art in natures private Cul de sac
water vessel of grace, incumbent chalice of the night 
undulating sinuously towards the evening light 
none can duplicate the beauty of, your even flow;
 
Who knows who knows which way the gale winds blow 
but this I know,... no never have I seen
such incandescent fiery light, cleaving at the cusp of night. 

January 20, 2022 
Sponsor	Chantelle Anne Cooke
Contest Name	The Chalice of Night

Chalice of Night Ceremony

Resting inside a brass cauldron of craven curiosity
Lay a horror unexpected to anyone who peered,
A chalice of old silver containing a rotting hand
Surrounded by gold coins and ivory contraband
Stashed purloined treasure of one who steered,
An evil buccaneer known for murderous ferocity.

They who dared look fell victim to similar atrocity
Parts of their bodies protected more stolen loot,
When they no longer were trusted with treasures
Be it small tokens of bronze or gold measures,
More than one was peg-legged, missing hand or foot
There was no escaping this tyrannical monstrosity.

Dreaded they the feared Chalice of Night Ceremony,
Praying that parts of their body are not forfeited
For some minor infraction they had committed
Which no longer could be rationally defended,
And no paid substitute be willingly counterfeited
Though many a pirate pleaded a godly testimony.

Submitted to "Second Chance" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet

N/A
written January 19, 2022
especially for "Chalice of the Night" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Chatelle Anne Cooke

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