Haltingly Poems | Examples

Premium Member At My Dear Brother's Grave

At my dear brother’s grave,
I paid him my respects.
It was a winter’s day.
While standing there I glimpsed
two deer not far away.

At my dear brother’s grave,
the doe drew a bit close,
and then the other deer
(though very haltingly)
was also drawing near.

At my dear brother’s grave,
it seemed those deer nearby
that watched me were a sign
as if they came from God.
It seemed a thing divine.

At my dear brother’s grave,
I thought how he was like
the deer; though still apart
from me, his spirit was
close by to touch my heart

By My Side

She sit's solemnly in the weed choked garden.
Frightened so frightened.

The colourless sky above, rain trickles down like a slow running waterfall.
Hopeless so hopeless.

She sits up slowly, the pain radiating her entire  frail hull.
Tormented so tormented.

She lay's down haltingly on the wet viridescent grass.
Frightened so frightened.

A light begins to shine, knowing god is with her on this journey
makes her feel enlightened..... she sleeps.


Haltingly With Excite

.

                 She laid poised
               'pon mine bedroll
                  Eyne beaming
                         lips
                     displaying 
            with sweet wide smile
                    hern pearls

           My kneez were buckling
         whilst mine eyne slithered
                her twisted torso

       ‘Exposing with relish she wuz
                hern hale haunch
                     Cocksure’

              What lover uv write
                  Would ignore
                    This share
                        Uv i
               “mine two digits
                      tap tap
                      tapping
              ‘pon this machine
              Whilst mine other 
               duke’s two digits
                       pulled
            Haltingly with excite
                         her 
           bikini bottom’s bowed
                       string”





*Cocksure: overly confident
  Hale: sound; free from defect

Premium Member The Third Station of the Cross

Weak and tired I fall on rough cobbled stones.
Blood oozed down my face across my cheekbones.
My knees are bruised and pain spreads from my brain, 
The wooden bar hurt my back again.

Man must learn as I accept my bad fall.
The time must come for you to confess all.
I fall but sinless I still bear your sins, 
Get up, repent and a new life begins.

Still, I suffer as lashes hit my back,
For soldiers hate and like a wolfish pack
They just wish me to arrive up on the hill
Whilst Pharisaic zealots curse me ill. 

Yet I speak not one sole word nor complain.
I suffer pain and pray all are not in vain.
Sturdy hands roughly urge and lift me up.
Gives me my cross, and I drink my bitter cup.

I came to save humanity from hell, 
That I might see you all in Heaven dwell.
Haltingly I trudge on the cobbled rocks, 
Die on a cross. O happy paradox.

Premium Member The Desolation of Death

Stripped of the one
Whose existence gave his life
Its energy, shape and motivation
There he sat with curtains drawn
The flickering screen his sole companion
Trying to blot out
The monotonous thrum  of mourning
Murmuring in his mind
Painful and prolonged.
The pharmacy.
He had to go to the local pharmacy
Heaving himself heavily from his chair
And hauling on his white coat
Now seeming more like a spectral shroud
He took his stick before opening the door
When the sunlight struck his eyes.
Haltingly and woodenly walking
Knowing in his heart
That he was going through the motions
Like a well rehearsed but tired actor
Reciting his oft repeated lines
And obeying the  stage directions
There in the pharmacy 
To receive his medication 
For his physical pain
With nothing for his inner emptiness
Of soul.
Back he hobbled home
Dreading the closing of his door.


Premium Member Last Moments

voices beckon to me from inside
as distant lonely echoes sigh
I hear their voices pleading 
telling me to step back
from the precipice
of my despair
not wanting
the end
now
and
I stop
haltingly,
hesitating
to reconsider
the value of being
opposed to self-sacrifice
and selfish lack of concern for
those people who would mourn my passing.

written September 20, 2021

Maze

“It’s a puzzle Pa
here and here and there”
Son’s stubby finger
as indicated
Yellow balls surround
“I’m trapped in a maze”
I exclaim, confused
Start scratching my head
and turning around
“Oh Pa, I’ll show you”
Son said haltingly
Sinuous his frame
snaking and twisting
progresses the floor
“See, can touch the wall
he said, stretching arm
I have made some paths”
To amuse, I ask
“I am lost, which way?”
Wife from garden door
shouts “now play nicely”
addressing our son
“Oh Pa” gasps Toby
I’ll show you the way
hurrah, you made it”
Happy Toby danced
Said “ now find way back”
Gleefully he clapped 
each successive step

Dawn of Flight


My sadness rises
with the rooster robust call
in the pre-dawn 
It’s haltingly reluctance
seems to hang on 
to the morning mist drifting
A stubborn departure
exiting 
skyward feathery

To-day 
is such a fine
vapor mourning
Sublime ecstasy fills my heart,
watching 
heavy tear withdrawal grief
undergo
wet pillow 
evaporating disintegration

On dove wings,
the golden moist breeze
soothes me
Carrying my fears
of another hurtful separation
very far, up and away

Such a wondrous dawn of flight 
beginning 
to a bright future evening 
starlight new day

Premium Member My Vagabond Drifting Wood

A tree in the hills felled by the summer storm
river in spate carries from cascade to cascade.
Deskinned trunk haltingly moves to the bank,
sticks in mud and boulder the water deposits.

Next rains come, the river sweeps the banks.
The log floats in delight, starts to travel again,
likes to reach adrift the destination unknown.
Unanchored, it doesn’t know what the past is.

My life uprooted by the squall of rough times
drifts like a floating log, finds no hands to hold,
seeks new course for an uncertain end to reach.
Unpossessed, I don’t know what attachment is.

I float on freedom, time takes me in its course,
I make my mooring, hold on as long as I want.
People say I am a vagabond, a fallen drift wood.
Unbound, I’m glad, my memory has no memory.

September 24, 2017.
Contest : Form V - Verse Me a Poem.
Sponsor : Broken Wings.

Premium Member Language of Love

"We both are fluent in the language of love
And I want to make sweet poetry with you"

I write my words across your chest
My single letters haltingly slow down
Incoherently forming new words
Lining up in sentences withheld
Crying for attention

Your name a foreign sound
A word without meaning
Forming strings of small pearls

And I see a thousand times your name
In a million different colours
Exploding in the air like small poems
Or fireworks
Or stars in the firmament
Of our selves

***

Meme by Mel Leach
Quote by Jason Williams
Poem by Darren White
November 24, 2016

Rebirth

In low tones we chatted
On the steps to her porch,
We talked of the decades
Since I’d carried her torch—

Of love we knew nothing
During young naïve years
Of kissing and fondling
‘Til I left her in tears,

For the navy enticed
With ships and adventure:
I sailed away keenly
Aware that I missed her,

Each ivory cloud roiling
I watched sculpt her face,
And the foam in ships’ wakes
Emulated her grace.

How her leer glowered down
With each floozy I’d bed;
Her glare did accost me
From the face that I wed.

But that marriage was fey,
On a short vine it died:
I had loved only once
So to find her I tried:

Thus we sat on those steps
Last night swapping stories,
We confessed of our lives,
Our failures and glories …

And the kiss that welled up
While lightning bugs popped,
Led haltingly bedside
Where our slack clothing dropped.

We then gripped and embraced
Through a torrent of mirth—
Time relented at last
And our love found rebirth.


October 22, 2016
1st place: Long Distance Love Contest/October 19, 2016
For 1st Place Only Poetry Contest
Laura Loo

Rebirth--Long Distance Love

In low tones we chatted
On the steps to her porch,
We talked of the decades
Since I’d carried her torch—

Of love we knew nothing
During young naïve years
Of kissing and fondling
‘Til I left her in tears,

For the navy enticed
With ships and adventure:
I sailed away keenly
Aware that I missed her,

Each ivory cloud roiling
I watched sculpt her face,
And the foam in ships’ wakes
Emulated her grace.

How her leer glowered down
With each floozy I’d bed;
Her glare did accost me
From the face that I wed.

But that marriage was fey,
On a short vine it died:
I had loved only once
So to find her I tried:

Thus we sat on those steps
Last night swapping stories,
We confessed of our lives,
Our failures and glories …

And the kiss that welled up
While lightning bugs popped,
Led haltingly bedside
Where our slack clothing dropped.

We then gripped and embraced
Through a torrent of mirth—
Time relented at last
And our love found rebirth. 


October 14, 2016
Long Distance Love Contest
Nicola Byrne

Premium Member Within His Eyes

My body, small and crooked,
Twists and turns, can't walk.
But walks through life with humour,
And grins, haltingly talks.
Within his eyes I'm perfect.
In him lives love alone.
And when we melt together,
His eyes do bring me home.

***

 Honoarable mention in contest: Brief Memories.
Sponsored by: FJ Thomas
October 9, 2016  


November 8: Phrase also needs to be in poem body.
Completely missed that, oh boy! Only seeing it now.
Ah well, I love my little poem anyway! Good luck judging :)

Premium Member Apropos the Refugee

APROPOS THE REFUGEE...

There is nothing left here
for death to claim; even hunger
has abandoned the swollen bellies
and parched skin of the walking dead:
eyes of gigantic pupils sunken deep
into desiccated cranial caverns.

In this fenced graveyard of waning life, flies
soar to and fro---depositing metaphoric maggots
in the midst of the festering wounds of despair.

In this God forsaken place, the flame of hope
grows dimmer with the wrinkling nipples of the breast
of time---her hourglass---haltingly emptying its self:

There is no refuge here
for the refugee.

A Widow's Melancholy

A mood as dark as a winters midnight
Haltingly adrift, she is rudderless 
Bound to a coastal route
As she nears the quay, she cries out
But emits no sound
As strong currents
Guide her soul
To deeper depths
And perils 
Where light has no importance
A salient angle away and afar
She collapses in upon herself, like the Black Hole
Black does not describe its murkiness
She is lost to humanity

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