.
there'z nuhth'n hot'r
there'z
there'z
okay okay
(mind ya)
i just received my
new prescription for
my progressive
len'ziz (sooo timely)
so
anywho
i step'd outside uv
my favorite water'n hole
and there were her'z (across thuh road)
her
pure white
soft star stud'd
lump'd up (where lips go)
panty's puff
Categories:
metrical, allusion, character, identity, imagery,
Form: Metrical Tale
She wore a ribbon red as flame,
he carved her secret in his name.
They danced beneath the open skies,
with stars like lanterns in their eyes.
The campfire laughed, the horses swayed,
the fiddles sang while nightbirds prayed.
Their vows were stitched with whispered thread,
"Till death," they swore, "no tears to shed."
But Fortune's wheel turned rough and wild--
the lawman came to claim their child.
A fortune-teller saw too late--
the cards had sealed a crooked fate.
They rode like ghosts through iron rain,
the mountains swallowed up their pain.
Yet dawn betrayed their broken flight--
two shadows fell in dying light.
The caravan still hums their song,
a love too bright, a loss too strong.
And every fire that gypsies light,
still weeps for them across the night.
Some say when midnight paints the skies,
you'll hear their laughter where it lies--
two spirits twirling hand in hand,
forever free across the land.
Categories:
metrical, baby, boy, death, fate,
Form: Metrical Tale
Along the road where moonbeams spill,
the gypsy wagons wander still.
Their lanterns swing like fireflies caught,
each wheel a whisper, each song a thought.
The fiddler hums a ghostly tune,
that weaves beneath the weeping moon.
A tambourine keeps time with dreams,
and horses wade through silver streams.
No map can mark the path they tread,
no stone remembers where they led.
They chase the winds, they court the skies,
with fortune shining in their eyes.
And if you chance to hear their song,
it means your heart won't rest for long.
For once you glimpse the roaming stars,
your soul will follow gypsy scars.
Categories:
metrical, dream, horse, moon, music,
Form: Metrical Tale
where is she? where is she? asked the emperor
the lady with the candle must not be found...
do you think the captain of this ship is blind?
the anchored ship must not be caught...
the baby in the cradle starts to sob
but no one near must be found...
the red cap! the red cap! says the man in white
it is the moment when the lightning must strike...
the red carpet and the fall of crown
she must not be found,lady in light pink gown...
Categories:
metrical, 12th grade, adventure, beauty,
Form: Metrical Tale
1952. Curfew was on and roads were vacant.
Some armed hands were still haunting there
To hush every possible roar or uprising rant
With the spiteful hammer of thunderous fear.
But a murmur of revolution was soon heard
As thousands of spirited people marched on
With the resilience of restoring their barred
Language from the threshold of extinction.
They protested peacefully carrying placard
Of their clauses until the armed hands fired
And soaked them with blood in vain to retard
Undying voices that can never be smothered.
Each drop of the sacrificial blood has built
the monument of revolution that will always
Shine as a star of Devotion and forever quilt
The vigorous souls with its contagious rays.
Their immortal death blazed a fire of liberty
in hearts that were in the grip of oppression.
Soon, it became a furnace that burned Deity
Of Oppression and Bangladesh was born.
Categories:
metrical, conflict, history,
Form: Metrical Tale
Life is short
But love can be shorter
I wonder if love could ever be overwhelming
I wonder if we could ever get tired of love
I wonder if we’d push people away because they love us
Is that what love is really about?
I wonder if the foundation of love could be mistrust
Re-echoing and resounding worst memories
I wonder if love is desultory
And probably depends on happening situations
Like a bag on a windy desert
True Love they say never fades
But does it even last for ages
I’ve been digging for days
Surfing and scattering the mains
Where goes love?
Down our tummies?
So, they don’t last?
Or up in our chest ?
Like an undetectable malformation ?
Or skyrocketing to brains?
Probably why we go crazy about the people we love
I really hope it’s all not a mirage
But rather true reflections of genuine affection
And not delusion of fantasies
The only thing we wish to see in our images
An aura of love strongly bonded across our hearts
Where distance cannot even stand a chance
Of separating the ones we love
But I still ask from the bottom of my mind
What is love??
Categories:
metrical, 10th grade, best friend,
Form: Metrical Tale
Son of the rising sun; a child of prowess.
Hatched from the spawn of the raiders' conquest.
He rose from the trail of the claws that raid.
His sage was a tale that became a legend.
His serene spirit yearned for awareness.
He sailed across seas to muster the knowledge.
But his quest for freedom dragged his feet back to home,
where the heart of wisdom was long-waiting to hone.
He fought fiercely with his pen in quest for liberty
when the wrath of men clamored for anarchy.
His sagacious spirit wielded the courage
of the soldiers that craved to ward off the raid.
He offered his life glancing at the dawn
so the gloomy eyes in grief would see the rising sun.
His blood that spilled has fueled the fury
that snatched liberty from the claws of foray.
February 27, 2023
Writing Challenge - H Words - Poetry Contest (3rd place)
Sponsored By: Constance La France
Categories:
metrical, hero,
Form: Metrical Tale
Goddess from heaven
with a top of golden;
Descended like an omen
to brighten the minds of men.
She sings deeply well;
She dances like an angel;
She acts like it's real
and casts away her spell.
Her beauty that enslaves
enthralls the heart that craves;
Her body that gyrates
stirs the drowsy spirits.
Her sweet smile with spell
is filed with deep meaning;
Only the rightful hearts may tell
what lies deep within.
But it's her flipping hair
That sends all eyes to snare
Like her name on a paper
That blows up her ember
I wish I lived in her time
So she might remember me
Her faded memory
Struck the heart of sympathy
But the legend of her smile
Still lives in memory
For her glorious divine
Is a track in history
February 24, 2023
Categories:
metrical, beauty,
Form: Metrical Tale
Goddess of sultry
As adored by many
Her hair golden
Makes the heart smitten
Like a lily of white
A rose with astride
Makes the wind like
To take away her wrap
Her mysterious craze
Puts the soul in deep amaze
Just like a baffling maze
That puts the mind in daze
Her alluring beauty
Conceived its own meaning
Just like history
That is worth remembering
Her tempting speech
Awakens the drowsy spirits
Just like a rhapsody
That brings surge of ecstasy
Her oozing appeal
Has captured the hearts of greats
Her legend, like her zeal
Has charted great feats
But the parting of her stare
Could still be mystery
No one dared much to unsnare
The twists of history
Though she's gone with the wind
In the river of no return
Her charm like a whirlwind
Is enshrined in souls that yearn
February 24, 2023
Categories:
metrical, beauty,
Form: Metrical Tale
Like the North Wind,
Sent by Boreas
to lay driven snow, pure
and white, an ivory
whirlwind blows
through my living room.
The rodent, pink as
embarrassment, flies
with the speed of a
crossbow bolt loosed at
full tension. It’s woolen
body, firm but pliable.
The ashen animals
bear claws sharp as
thorns, attacking with the
ferocity of a defensive
rose garden. They strive
for the kill, dilated pupils
take on the shape of
fully waxed moons, the color
of pitch; an eclipse of
bloodlust. Eagerly, but
methodically the blanched
aggressors approach the
rosy mouse and with
muscles tensed, as taut as
moorings, they leap.
Their lithe, slim, dextrous
bodies fly through the
air. In a blizzard of ferocity
the rodent is struck down
and the ivory whirlwind
abates back into a pile
of freshly driven snow.
1/12/23 for “Metrical Tale”
Sponsored by Hilo Poet
Categories:
metrical, analogy, animal, cat, winter,
Form: Metrical Tale
The road to heaven
It seems so long,
Its short, so short
Where time belong
It's curves, it's hills
And it's potholes, too,
Beat and bruise
As I stumble through
Tramplin' the dirt
And nearly dyin',
Finding my feet
And still I'm tryin'
Cryin' out for help
'Til I am hoarse,
Beaten paths do open
But, I stay the course
Just take it slow
Come rain, come shine,
The road to heaven
The way is mine.
(January 12th, 2023)
Categories:
metrical, encouraging, endurance, heaven, journey,
Form: Metrical Tale
In the invited place she got precious gift as new guest
After derived back to home it made her unhappy fest
The temple deity was floating on her sight without mist
To forget she exorcised with betel leaf the west to east
She come to her son child and kissed him delightfully
And went to bed with fear thru anger on all silently
Whole night no one come to wish her a peaceful sleeping
After daybreak she got no sunlight on path of greeting
“Married life is not blessings” she cursed life saying this
“If no one replies walk alone” she sang the song in peace
But the biting cold of winter made her mad to coolness
She thought nature is against her also in mocking grace
No tears she wanted to devout to the stone of the deity
At last the gift she sacrificed to the fire of wounded angry
©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
12/01/2023
Metrical Tale Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
Categories:
metrical, grief, life,
Form: Metrical Tale
"Whirlwind", they call him.
He fights his way up in the ring.
He knows he need it to survive.
He must make his will alive.
For every blood and tear he sheds.
For every drop of sweat he drips.
Comes a handful of praise and glory
for his nation and his family.
Everytime he fights in the ring
is a gamble that he takes,
for no one knows when his bad luck will arrive;
If he can make it back alive.
And one day when he was not well,
someone challenged the might of his reign.
The mighty champ, without hesitation,
fought with courage and dedication.
And when he knew it was time for his demise,
he made his last blow tough and hard.
The mighty champ did not survive,
but his reign remained alive.
And as time tries to erode his memory
his glorious tale comes back to life.
The mighty whirlwind that once made his mark
comes back like ghost to make his spark.
January 12, 2023
Poetry in Motion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
Categories:
metrical, boxing day ,
Form: Metrical Tale
"There is order in God's heaven and there is no time."
Quote by _Constance
In my mind, I lift the veil to heaven
and follow a whirling bright gold light
at the end of a tunnel I stand
then, beautiful angel's guide me
before me are Romanesque ornate temples
and flower gardens with birds
with ponds, streams, and waterfalls
in the distance are oceans- mountains
I see cats, dogs- and tangled green forests
I feel weightless and all pain has dropped away
and there is a peace and harmony
and a huge temple with double doors
with words 'Orientation' engraved in stone
an angel counselor waits
there is sweet music floating
she explains the many temples
and in a silent room I rest my soul
then, like a movie my life plays back for me
I journey through the many beautiful buildings
the temple of wisdom and justice
records, and more- and elders help me
my last is the temple of God and heaven-
I float through the golden gates
for my earthly shell is gone
there is no time only eternity
and my loved ones take my hand-
showing me all the beauty that is heaven
Categories:
metrical, fantasy, imagination,
Form: Metrical Tale
This was the seventh time we'd moved,
In the wee morning before the sunrise
But somehow, I could feel God approved
And there'd be a great beginning apprised
Once we lived way out in the country
I'd watch the daily train pass by
Swinging in a tree swing hungry
Boy, how those days were on the fly
Before that move, seems I remember
I was asleep in my home in the city
Towards the ending of December
Woke in a rural area pretty
We fled by night, time after time
But finally, one home stayed
I learned so much about earth's slime
Moving by night place to place afraid
One last move, in the light of morn
Another chance for a better life formed
I knew this was it, some stability norm
Life's opportunities to be transformed
Apprise-made aware of, increased in value
Date: 01-11-2023
Sponsor: Hilo Poet
Contest: Metrical Tale
Categories:
metrical, 2nd grade,
Form: Metrical Tale
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