Dredged Poems | Examples

When the Tide Remembers!

The sea was a whisper before it was water,
cleaved through the wind.
I stepped into its silver mouth,
waves curling something pressing in
a wistful longing for a past I never knew.

Seagulls traced ethereal designs across the expanse
their wails scattered like fragments.
Somewhere underneath the foam,
the past was fossilized within sedimentary strata
waiting for my hands to delve deep enough to find it.

The tide came in more forcefully
and I thought of to how love in this way
always arriving, always leaving---
sometimes tender, sometimes intense enough
to split the coast in two.

When it ebbed, it left behind more than remnants of a disaster,
it embodied the ideal I sought;
calmed by the steady undulations of the sea,
gleaming in calmness;
as if the tide dredged up
on the verge of being forgotten.

The Prismatic Self

'I think, therefore I am!'
I write to bang and clang,
to play with words, cast spells.

Wrangle and entangle readers,
with thoughts dredged from memories,
resonating, reverberating within selves,
aligned on shelves, waiting to join in.

An audience of thinkers shaken not stirred,
by the clang and jar of poetic,
rhythms, rhymes, images and ideas.

Rendered with razzmatazz and syncopation,
in the written words rendered,
improvised, and concocted in a group session.

On a stage, on a page,
of prismatic selves, 
jamming and jarring,
banging and clanging,
jangling with Mr Joe,
in worn out shoes.

Afraid, 
that no one is listening, or 
that no one,
really, truly, bluesy cares?

Chicken Piccata

Tender chicken breast filets
Lightly dredged in flour
Sauteed then simmered in sauce
lemon and capers
served o'er spaghetti
Romano
cheese

Hard Hat Times

Yellow above the dredged-up earth.
hard hats, husky men
bent on constructive destruction,
Brush burning,
they flame throw their wands of
progress.

It all has to be done, done to be mended,
done to be done with.
Nature got too messy,
it overgrew its concrete margins,
it got above our work-booted
aspirations.

Clean-up crews sweep and press
against the head-on-winds
of a riotous environment.
Steel, hammers the seeded mud
crushing it of any taint of green.

Everyone knows this is obscene,
lips and ears must be temporarily closed
like the bleak roads ahead
and those dug over 
below our feet.

Sacred Waters

Water was sacred
either as a shower
squirted out of a sprinkler 
on the backyard lawn
to run through and cool us
on hot summer days
or splashed from a font
when making the sign 
of the cross as we entered
St Mary's for Sunday mass.

It was more so
when held within the banks 
of the Port Adelaide River, 
its tidal flow a pulse 
that pumped through 
the city's very heart.
It was my Jordan and Ganges 
though in grandeur and size,
its upper reaches was little 
more than a creek clogged 
with mangroves and mud.
Its main channel was dredged
and widened for ships.

The river nurtured me, 
fed my appetite for myth 
and wonder and carried 
my history in its dark, 
oily flow. I both loved 
and loathed it for holding
me to a mortgage.
It took a lifetime to pay off.
I still long to go back 
and stand on its banks, 
bathe my feet in its waters -
make peace - return 
one more time to what 
was once my home.
Though now,
I doubt I will ever see 
the Port River again.

By Now you Know

Clinking, clinking
I heard the clinking in 
repetition
what could
cause
whatever object this is to
make this clinking sound.
Clink!
The loudest sound
yet.
peaking my interest
one's honest admission
dredged from it's
translucence
clear in obvious
objective
gaining my attention
I relaxed towards
it's conclusion
blanketing myself
to warm my now
needing desire


        Commercial Trait
"the new Boattailed Designed"
            Excelesor
        ------------------
      by Eccentric Motors
  Excalesor Sports Luxury and
  Styling Personified!

Buy Now! You Know!

Voted Car of The Year by
Bezel and Binnacle Magazine

and Select Best Overall
by  Carrosserie and Standards
Power Pro Club and Trophy
Naming this Vehicle best
overall according to the standards
of Performance and safety
The best Value award is said to
be the best endorsement in The Industry

The Inspiring Designer Magazine
 Named it
"it's Vehicle of the Year
Awarded The Design Team
The Crystal Palace Trophy

Dissolve and Vanish

    Dreams that seem to make no sense
      bits and pieces of suspense
    dissolve and vanish before my eyes
      blackmail-spirals, howling skies  

    All exits blocked, no escape
      ghastly images, scimitar-shaped
    horrors dredged-up, long suppressed
      drown in light once awake

Pre-Dawn Nocturn

It occurs on the edge of light
a dim tinged dark is rolled back
followed by dream-walking eyes.

A time when heroes 
are at their weakest,
when troops turn restlessly 
in their fox holes,
where lions hunt inside 
a rapidly closing circle

The half-light
only awakens more shadows
until apprehension clings
to every breath.

It is then that your green-eyed cat,
your familiar and pet,
leaps upon your chest, 
only then does a naked dawn
slip through drawn curtains.

The cat purrs, 
relaxes into that dredged-out hollow
you tried to hide within,
and so the day moves in
to claim you.

The Vision - I Will Look Into Your Eyes

The vision gate-crashed my mind;
with the force of a meteoric collision
and then it began to glow.

From out of everywhere….
“When I declared, you were created in My Image.
you then taught that your image was Mine, when
in truth you are image-less but for My vision."

Foolishly I still tried to construct a countenance 
with pigments dredged from my own earth.

A pause then…

“I will look into your eyes,” 

What I saw made me both weep and laugh.
It was all so simple, so attainable this One visioning
and yet…

The vision looked away…

…I fell back to a sightless earth
glowing brightly.

War And Peace

All wars scourged bodies and souls--
Torn spirits and dredged feet of the fowls

Ravished by rabid gargoyles of prey
Scuppered dreams of the reapers of hay

Wars circled the world of May
'tis emblem are ruins and remnants of flay

Wars for peace can be penned on paper
Words and spikes of chivalry of the bleeder

Ink flowing out are veins of the fighter
Scrawled blood purged from the might of the writer

The Right Words

The right words eventually come--they do
Words from the deep form the song I sing
They don't come easily, yet they break through
Drop enough of them, and they might ring

Words from the deep form the song I sing
Never as dreamy and pretty as yours
Drop enough of them, and they might ring
They might fly away, or bust down the doors

Never as dreamy and pretty as yours
Dredged up words from dark depths buried deep
They might fly away, or bust down the doors
Words freed like water I no longer keep

Dredged up words from dark depths buried deep
The good, bad and ugly things I should know
Words freed like water I no longer keep
Works, not of art, merely written for show

The, good, bad and ugly things I should know
They don't come easily, yet they break through
Works, not of art, merely written for show
The right words eventually come--they do

  Pantoum On Writing Poetry Poetry Contest
Hosted by L Milton Hankins
12-2-2022

Debris

debris from dark storm
dredged by the leaf skimmer -
grandsons putter* in pool



* to move or act aimlessly or idly

You Know Who You Are

You Know Who You Are.
I read you the truth and you backed away
Your rose-tinted glasses went back to the day
They edged out, all that pain and hurt
Made you feel better, dredged up no dirt

You read what I wrote, and it really choked 
All of the memories those words evoked
Hard to recall when you're wrong
Hard to accept your acrid pong

You became irate and denied all said
You were perfect, good, I am misled
But deep down, a churning doubt
You know the truth now that it’s out 

So, no crime committed, no harm done
Your conscience is clear, all harmless fun
But somewhere hidden scratches a claw
Jogs your memory, sticks in your craw.

You know who you are.

David Cox 06/01/21

Cheer

The lights are blaring
The team is playing hard
The stadium rumbles the ground
With movement
...and cheer

Down in the street
The earth moves
With the shattering of windows
And loud cries
...and fear

The crafts are displayed
The tents hold beautiful treasure
Parades tell of wondrous joy
Feelings tingle the tinsel
...and peer

......back
..................and forth
..................................here is too near

The season is here
It is upon is...this very moment
Gifts are being bought
People still planning
...void

The illusion dissipates
At the feet of TRUTH
Idolatry at the heart
We bartered our youth

Children don't need lies
Adults needed entertainment
Gainsay palatable
For the familiar feeling
....cheer

Sweet taste
Bitter digestion
Idol work
Spider infestation
....bluh!

Hope shews forth LOVE
Nothing else will do
Cheer dredged in sickly fear
Equals Holiday stew

Written by Trudy Schrader on 12/15/2021

A Poem Makes It Forever

In war,
for all its evil,
there is a strange beauty,
unwritten poems.
A hard, aching love,
for your brothers,
the dawn,
some impossible bird,
juking through shrapnel,
on flashing blue wings.
A wistful longing,
for oh, how the world could be,
always should be,
but is not.
A hard grimace,
of knowing,
it all does not matter...
no one listens.
So now, in the shadows,
darker hours,
memories make it all now,
while a poem...
makes it forever.
Dredged from the past,
where forgotten things belong.

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