Damsels In Distress Poems | Examples

The Hungry Stones XIV

At this very moment coolies screamed, ‘train', 
We scampered packing up our bags and bales, 
A long-awaited train’s a certain bane, 
But this one turned a boon, such were the tales, 
An English gentleman hailed our hero 
From his carriage and we parted to go 
Our diverse ways—to our cattle-class seat, 
There was no chance to know who that man was, 
Nor yet more light on his tale could be lit, 
Indeed, never-ending may prove some pause. 

Some truths, some lies of life lie ever so, 
Maybe, he took us as credulous fools, 
A painful nerve and anxious seldom cools, 
Some truths and lies born are never to know, 
Perchance the man minted fun at our cost, 
And damsels in distress lay buried, lost. 
_____________________________________________
Narrative |01.04.2024|
Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali: Kshudhaarto Paashaana, divided in I to XIV parts, largely in blank verse that lapses into rhymes along with its twists and turns. The story is known to have happened during Tagore’s stay at Shaahibaug palace in Ahmadabad, the nearby river Sabarmati becoming river Suista in the story.

Summer Sentinels

Sunflowers,
cheddar-cheese petals
surrounding seedy-brown-mustard centers,
stand guard over hot summer pavement
like mighty oaks.
Laughing children
run in and out the yellow forest,
slaying dragons,
rescuing damsels in distress,
then pretending to be astronauts
sailing across space 
to a planet inhabited
by tall, green stalk-like aliens
with golden helmets.
Did van Gogh imagine such things
as he painted so many saffron blooms?
Did their sunny dispositions
have any effect on him?
Did he really love those festive flowers?
Look for answers in the pensive starry night.

O, To Be a Hero

O, to be a Hero
    in the good old-fashioned way
  Rescuing damsels in distress
    just in time to save the day

  Where is our shining knight
    astride determined steed
  To free this spend-like-crazy world
    from materialism's need

Play By Play-The Pinkerton Story

Climb those many stairs, up to the stars.
“Cut!” Comes the child, the wee Pinkerton.
Stunt double, doubles down, with plethora of scars.
Fate is what it is, bumps, bruises...sorta fun.

Pinkerton rolls and bounces, ooches and ouches.
Then they call in the fingering ‘stache, for he smooths
the luscious hairs of his handlebar, never slouches.
Divine with his hands too, damsels-in-distress, he soothes.

Pinkerton pastes on his pastel beard, and breaks out
into a minor character. “Cut! Stunt dou—ble!”
The ‘Stache rips doppelgänger’s facial hair as Pinkerton shouts,
opens mouth, “Hey! Hey! That really hurt!” Now he’s in trouble.

Pinkerton pouts as he takes his final walk into the night.
Rubs his eyes as a werewolf runs by ready to attack.
Those mischievous stars yell, “Cut! Stunt double, fight!”
Alarmed, Pinkerton needs to know who has his back.

A werewolf snarls and twirls his whiskers with a pinky. 
Suspicious and brave, the kid gives him a karate chop.
Pinkerton unzips the stinker from bottom to top.
Found out, ‘Stache grabs his blanket and binky.

11/3/2020

Pan

... Among the shadows of the groaning elms,
amid the darkening oaks, we fled ourselves ...

... Once there were paths that led to coracles
that clung to piers like loosening barnacles ...

... where we cannot return, because we lost
the pebbles and the playthings, and the moss ...

... hangs weeping gently downward, maidens’ hair
who never were enchanted, and the stairs ...

... that led up to the Fortress in the trees
will not support our weight, but on our knees ...

... we still might fit inside those splendid hours
of damsels in distress, of rustic towers ...

... of voices heard in wolves’ tormented howls
that died, and live in dreams’ soft, windy vowels ...

Originally published by Sonnet Scroll

Knights and Ladies

Courtly days of knights so gallant,
And demure damsels in distress;
Hearken ye to this admiring descant,
Of chivalry and sheer noblesse.

Nights of satin and days of adventure,
Of heroes and villains vile,
Of windborne blossoms, dark allure,
Which made the ladies blush and smile.

Dangerous and many an escapade
Helped to guard the palace walls;
For love, for honor, men met blade.
Celebrations in the banquet halls.

Nights of romance and of mystery,
Which held a strange power!
As does a haunting symphony;
Rescued princess from the Ivory Tower!

Early, early, my little red rooster,
Thou shalt greet the new dawn;
Give the day a little booster,
For the knights of chivalry are gone!

Stories of Yesteryear

Come, and lay here, on this soft grassy hill

hear stories I'll tell from yesteryear

the sun is setting... the air calm and fair

though a gentle breeze can caress your hair

listen, my dear, about the dragons you fear

allow your ears to be aware of the stories I bring

of Damsels in distress, of Knights and their King

lay your head down on the grass to listen

I'll brush the hair away from eyes that glisten

so they may stay open as each story unfolds

of ladies in love with their Knights so bold



once upon a time... there was a maiden on a hill

with light in her eyes... she lays without fear

wanting to hear stories about yesteryear


5/17/18

Lessons

We've come across scammers,
white elephants,
damsels in distress,
fake online banks,
false prophets....
At one time in our lives we've thought
that we have neared or reached our
breakthrough,
only for reality to sink in painfully,
reminding us of fool's gold....


Date of Entry: 13/11/2016

Whats Your Story

When your days are numbered
When it's time to pass on
What will be your story
You'll choose to leave the world

Will you leave a romantic novel
With hero's and horses
Rescuing damsels in distress
Fixing hearts that are broken

Will your life be an adventure
Traveling far and abroad
Whether by air on a plane
Will you stretch your sea legs out


Maybe a horror story
Will be your demise
You tried everything to escape
But your soul it still died


Some choose comedy
It masks all the pain
They laugh and laugh
Leaving pleasure in stead

No matter your choosing
It's your life to tell
So do it with passion
Make sure that it sells

The Knights Are Dead

The knights in shining armor have all died
the damsels in distress are left...distressed
what once was chivalry and manly pride
by silence in the fight is now expressed

Where are the men who knew the right from wrong
who'd come to save a weaker one from pain
perhaps they have forgotten to be strong
their pleasure and their peace they want to gain

And so they leave the wounded in the field
Endeavoring to find what brings delight
forgotten are the ones they were to shield
They leave them there to suffer through the night

You were a knight, but that you are no more
those days are gone, they only live in lore

Eileen Manassian

A Wrestler In a Dress

Sitting at the keybored 
symbols mired in my head, 
lacking inspiration, filled with exasperation, 
I think that I'll just crawl on back to bed. 

Images of castles and damsels in distress 
are not forthcoming, would be quite becoming, 
right now I'd take a wrestler in a dress. 

A wrestler in a dress, now THERE'S an image, 
something to pique my poor beleaguered brain! 
he sports a tutu quite delectable, 
not at all prim and respectable, 
and not at all neglectable,

I'm finally on a roll!

A Wrestler In a Dress

Sitting at the keybored 
symbols mired in my head, 
lacking inspiration, filled with exasperation, 
I think that I'll just crawl on back to bed. 

Images of castles and damsels in distress 
are not forthcoming, would be quite becoming, 
right now I'd take a wrestler in a dress. 

A wrestler in a dress, now THERE'S an image, 
something to pique my poor beleaguered brain! 
he sports a tutu quite delectable, 
not at all prim and respectable, 
and not at all neglectable,

I'm finally on a roll!

What Is Inside Me

Inside me is fact 
Poking at imagination 
Teasing fiction 
At war with piles of literature
Angry poems colliding with hospital visits
And funerals 
Inside me are Encyclopedias 
Constant shouting of evidence and actuality 
“ON SEPTEMBER 4TH 1992 JOHN DANIELS ATE 72 HOTDOGS IN UNDER 11 
MINUTES.”
Inside me tales of fire breathing dragons and damsels in distress set fire to fact
Dragging my thoughts into a sea of what-ifs and could have-beens
Algebra 2 and Stephen King pull out swords 
A duel 
Fact wins I study 
Fiction wins I dream
Inside me is confusion 
Bitter opposites blending together in an attempt to hide truth 
The drunk man did not kill him 
And I see his daughter in the hospital
And its all wrong I’m just dreaming 
But the casts tell a different story
Drowsy eyes diving into my attention
Inside me she is playing hide and seek 
Running through dreams 
Dodging understanding 
Fiction hiding fact
Fact chasing fiction

Death of Chivalry

Chivalry is dead
                                           Only damsels in distress
                                                 Mournful requiem

A Dragon's Tale

I dreamed of princes and damsels in distress,
While a sleeping giant in a cave does rest.
The dragon slumber with fire at it side,
People are frightened so they run and hide.

With fear in their eyes the kingdom rules
Fire versus the sword are the battle tools.
With a single breath all the kingdom shall burn,
What if slumber is all the dragon yearns.

Along comes a prince with intentions to slay.
The battle is set with the dragon today.
The dragon has wings to just fly away,
Can we understand why he even stays?

Still a battle seems to be in sight, 
Visions of fire burn through the night.
Perhaps the dragon is misunderstood
Maybe he would tell us if he could.

The dragon’s fire waits in the wake,
Waking this giant might be a mistake.
The kingdom’s in peril so the battle is set.
When you play with fire, burnt you will get.

Still they all wish for the dragon to be gone,
As the kingdom burns it does matter how long.
What if the dragon was happy to sleep?
There no turning back when you get in too deep.

I wonder what’s the greater evil or good.
Maybe the dragon is just misunderstood.
As the kingdom burns consumed in fire,
I wonder was this the dragon’s desire.

• Short Damsels In Distress Poems
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• Long Damsels In Distress Poems
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