Long Vanquished Poems
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When I lay anguished with all my muscles aching
And my mind plunging into the eddies of grief,
Poetry came to me as an unexpected guest, as a whiff of breeze.
It was like spotting an oasis in the sterility of a blistering desert.
What scope poetry provided me, soon I happily discerned.
It decorated my emotions with personalized symbols.
Images varied came dancing to my great surprise.
Music arrived soothing to embellish, energize and overwhelm.
Then my chest heavy with melancholic thoughts
Opened to layers and layers of positive thoughts,
Transcending the bounds of hard-hitting realities.
My eyes opened to the charm of nature conjuring up celestial images,
And I started versifying every thought n’ scene in rhythmic notes.
.
Never more the surging tears flowed out from my eyes.
My rampaging despair got vaporized, making a hasty retreat,
Like an enemy vanquished and its bugle falling silent.
Poetry, turn not your face on me, fill me with rhyme!
Had it not been for you and your mesmerizing charms,
I could never have broken free of the fetters,
That chained my captive, melancholy-stricken heart.
Temperate gold buds, untrimmed, lease heaven,
In the wake of an avarice moment,
The grandeur Laurentian Abyss, she came.
Love witnessed a desire being potent,
Her hair the color of passionate heat,
Trailed sparks in the carved vale of the Abyss,
She brought the ardor of men their defeat,
And vanquished hearts with her outpour of bliss.
Genteel tasks in her liquefied domain,
Her expressed lured eyes left their thoughts to wane,
From Neptune Masiff, left many in vain,
The heights alone made the challenge, a strain.
Abyss turned Masiff, mermaid of pardon,
Her laughter championed her trust wanton.
Life, here hangs on a filmy thread of hope
Unskilled acrobats, making tight rope walks
With the deep chasm gaping below
Some too fatigued to feel the stress,
Empty beds bearing
The scars of lost battles
Shaded rooms brooding in the gloom,
Pervading silence speaking mutely
Of burnt hopes and dreams,
Of flipped hour glasses!
The morbid stillness
Occasionally broken
By stifled groans and whimpers
In a corner room, he lay,
A dead heap upon the bed,
With no one to keep vigil,
Loneliness, his only companion!
Crowds of fans queued up once
To have just a glimpse of him!
Now suddenly grown older
With all energy vanquished,
He stares into the claws of Death.
His frail emaciated body,
Rejecting the drops of toxic drugs,
The dried up neurons refusing
To send signals to the brain,
Eye balls sinking deep,
Cheek bones sticking out,
Tentacles of cancer tightening hold
On every lobe of his lungs,
He lay looking at the granules of sand
Sliding slowly down, so slow at snail’s pace
That he wishes if the hour glass, all of a sudden
Had flipped upside down!
He lay- on his bed,
A dead log tossed by the currents
Moving in and out of consciousness
He was finally trapped in the snares of Death.
The vanquished soldier exited out,
Sans songs, sans fanfare!
Placed First
Jan.2.2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol.28 Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Edward Ibeh
McGee was in the middle, of a pint he just had bought
And thought it might be sweeter if he also had a shot
When the priest of his parish decided to step in
The patrons all were quite while the Father vanquished sin
Father O'Malley, first walked up, to Shawn to test his soul
"Would you like to go to heaven?" Shawn replied, "I'd like to go"
"Then on this side of the room is where you have to stand,
So, I can look around to find another worthy man "
McJock was next and he confessed he'd like to go there too!
The Father then instructed him, to quickly join the queue
And this went on, man by man, until he asked Mcgee
“Do you want to go to heaven” McGee replied “Not me”
The Father asked again ‘cause he couldn’t fathom why
“You don’t want to go to heaven, the day that you will die”
“Of course I do when I die ” McGee then scratch his brow
“I just thought, you were forming a group, to go up there right now!”
Widsith the Far-Traveler, Part II
ancient Anglo-Saxon poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Hrothulf and Hrothgar, uncle and nephew,
for a long time kept a careful peace together
after they had driven away the Vikings' kinsmen,
vanquished Ingeld's spear-hordes,
and hewed down at Heorot the host of the Heathobards.
Thus I have traveled among many foreign lands,
crossing the earth's breadth,
experiencing both goodness and wickedness,
cut off from my kinsfolk, far from my family.
Thus I can speak and sing these tidings in the mead-halls,
of how how I was received by the most excellent kings.
Many were magnanimous to me!
I was among the Huns and the glorious Ostrogoths,
among the Swedes, the Geats, and the South-Danes,
among the Vandals, the Wærnas, and the Vikings,
among the Gefthas, the Wends, and the Gefflas,
among the Angles, the Swabians, and the Ænenas,
among the Saxons, the Secgan, and the Swordsmen,
among the Hronas, the Danes, and the Heathoreams,
among the Thuringians and the Throndheims,
also among the Burgundians, where I received an arm-ring;
Guthhere gave me a gleaming gem in return for my song.
He was no gem-hoarding king, slow to give!
I was among the Franks, the Frisians, and the Frumtings,
among the Rugas, the Glomms, and the Romans.
I was likewise in Italy with Ælfwine,
who had, as I'd heard, commendable hands,
fast to reward fame-winning deeds,
a generous sharer of rings and torques,
the noble son of Eadwine.
I was among the Saracens and also the Serings,
among the Greeks, the Finns, and also with Caesar,
the ruler of wine-rich cities and formidable fortresses,
of riches and rings and Roman domains.
He also controlled the kingdom of Wales.
I was among the Scots, the Picts and the Scrid-Finns,
among the Leons and Bretons and Lombards,
among the heathens and heroes and Huns,
among the Israelites and Assyrians,
among the Hebrews and Jews and Egyptians,
among the Medes and Persians and Myrgings,
and with the Mofdings against the Myrgings,
among the Amothings and the East-Thuringians,
among the Eolas, the Ista and the Idumings.
Keywords/Tags: Widsith, Anglo-Saxon, translation, Old English, minstrel, travel, travels, traveler, poet, poetry, songs, music, earth, world, places, peace, war
Faraway Footsteps
How present
This past
Called memory
Hollow sole dragging
Hobnail boots
Caked with crud
Mud
And oil
Atop the landing
"Drop them greasy clothes"
Came the sometimes loving voice
The sometimes malevolent voice
But always his wife's warning
My mother's caring way
So many years past
When linoleum's impoverished sound
Is so remembered
Stepping from stove to table
Her laboring hands
Hefting the pressure cooker
Laden with steam softened cracked wheat
Barely eatable
That day's nourishment
Weighing upon
Forever toiling legs
Cushioned by sheepskin slippers
Whispering their shuffled prayer
I care
Generously ladled
Chew-your-brain-loose grains
Fit for health
Unfit for a kid
Layered my stomach
Fortified my heart
Prepped me abler
To gather reverie
So dear
Then
There was the sound
So ethereal
Heavenly I was told
Of bare feet
Curling the once-a-day-vacuumed
Pride and joy carpet of sage green wool
Replacing recently vanquished
Throw rug jigsaw mess
My early youth played upon
Our palace place
The living room
Scrunching pleasures
Toes lapping up that carpet
Dad's feet
Awful specimens
Calloused of years hard labor
Mother's feet
Preserved with nightly hot water soaks
Epson salts
When we could afford it
Worthy of pedicure
Never afforded
Me
Always wore my socks
Heavy wool
Darned when worn spots
Yelled loud enough
Mixed colors
When necessary
Yet always comfy
Homey
Loving covers
For footsteps
Unaware of the journey ahead
When steps would have to become strides
Leaps
Bounds
And eventually
Idleness
So present
These footfalls of then
Becoming echoes
Foreshadowing paces to come
When a once stubborn child
Needed to listen carefully
Or miss the lessons
Still offered today
From faraway footsteps
Passing near by
"Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." Titus 2:13 of the King Jame Bible
Our blessed hope radiates this Christmas and beyond gloriously…
The birth of the Saviour Jesus jubilantly
Surely bringing redemption to us compassionately
With the promise of eternal life and divine nature to experience abundantly.
Our great hope glistens with great assurance…
The sacrifice of Christ that vanquished hell’s endurance
Surely forgiving us in our confessed transgression-defiance
With the acquittal from sin’s penalty and self-righteous arrogance.
Our blissful hope shines upon biblical revelation…
The resurrection of the Lord that subdued everlasting damnation
Surely ordaining us in our believers’ royal position
With the subjugation of death’s sting and its fatal destruction.
Our steadfast hope glitters through blessed worship…
The work of the Father that exposes His leadership
Surely molding us while striving to do well by His enabling partnership
With the guidance of His wisdom and prudence for faithful stewardship.
Our triumphant hope sparkles along gratitude delight…
The goodness of God that proclaims His magnificent height
Surely upholding us in steadfastly sharing the Gospel light
With the truth of His inerrant Word and immutable covenant’s might.
Our momentous hope glows against attacking uncertainty…
The prodding of the Holy Spirit that seals His authority
Surely keeping us to stay in His will’s protective security
With the answers to fervent prayers and earnest supplications’ entreaty.
Our joyous hope brightens toward a triumphant moment…
The coming of the King that declares prophecy’s fulfillment
Surely ensuring us of precious rewards due to gracious accomplishment
With the commendation for favoured devotion and commitment.
December 26, 2020
Edited on November 27, 2021
3rd place, " 'X' Contest, New or Old" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 11/28/2021.
I smoke Rock
I drink Scotch
I like hookers that don't talk a lot
And I smile from the pain
When the needle plunges through my vein
I don't need Jesus to forgive me
My salvation would cost more than I can pray
Absolution can't be purchased
No matter how many Hail Marys you say
A vanquished bottle falls victim
Another Soldier that I drank to death
Tiny plastic bags lay full of empty
While the drug swims in the blood
under my flesh
It would take more than an army
of Christian Soldiers
On a crusade to save my soul
A futile quest for a vacant spirit
That's been ravaged, robbed, bought and sold
In twisted darkness
or straightened light
Seeking the venom
Piercing fangs
The healing cure in a snake's bite
There's no trust
in a junkies smile
No grief in his tear
Rusted words from an acid tongue
Spit out and insincere
Fate left no clue
Just a bruise
My Apocalyptic Tattoo
Was I the one
that made this choice
Or was it the addiction
Imitating my voice
So the wheel turns
on a flattened tire
And I'm not carrying a spare
Time creeps to the rhythm of the thumping
The fix is a hungry rifle
And it has me sighted
in it's cross hairs
While doves flutter, dying words whisper
Silence becomes haunting and Angels sing
A lone filtering light, a soft glister,
casts a fleeting shadow from dove's wings
As this arrowed light pierces the dusk grey,
on bended knee I pray for you, My love
Touching hard cold floor, where your casket lay
Seeking unanswered questions from above
( The loss of love is far beyond love's means )
( and tomorrow will see the end come true )
( To know depth of sorrow when it convenes )
( When light changes color to deeper blue )
( To bow their heads in open palms and cry, )
( as painful dark begins the day now new )
( Love's last memory fades away to die )
( and hearts now bleeding hide from times it knew )
No comfort did I find in your last breath
Forgive me, as I taste this bitter wine
Release me, from the vow I once confessed,
by the shadow of your spirit confined
( This love once sworn is now of colder mind )
( Desire dissolves leaving a vanquished shell )
( Neither clings to fragments still left behind )
( They search for springs to fill their empty well )
This last drop from the bitter wine I made
Brings dark, silent dark as the cold light fades
( The passing of their moment won't be crossed )
( and the bond between their hearts shall be lost )
contest Intermingle
Frederic Parker 2/16/15
poem When Love is Lost 7/20/14
poem As the Light Fades 6/25/14
Triumphty Truevity
David* prevailed as champ
over gigantic reign
by the Lord’s might.
Shepherd boy vanquished foe
superpowerfully
trusting God with his faith
to kingship height.
Failury Fitfury
Goliath midst great pride
met death through kid’s sling stone
he belittled.
Humiliating downfall
megabraggadoccio
had no match with Saviour
when embattled.
*1Samuel 17:45 Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied.
December 31, 2020
3rd place, "Double Dactyl" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by William Kekaula; judged on 3/5/2021.