Scimitar Poems | Examples

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

Time to Scare

Soon, I'll appear.  You'll have much to fear.  
I'll be going on a tear to scare. 
'Cuz, Halloween is growing near, I hear. 

As Voldemort with a bizarre scar, 
I'll place an ugly no-hair head, so bare... 
and dead, in a jar, sliced by my scimitar. 

Blood and gore will chill you to the core. 
So, say a prayer, but I would not despair.  
Joe, just give me more sweets from the store.

Swords And Roses

 Do We Bleed Not, In That We Love
 As Blades, As Roses, Time Is As Fleeting As A Dove
 And As The Sand Sifts The Moments Out The Hourglass
 And Love Finds It's Way, Just As The Blade Swinging In Inertial Mass
 F=m a , This The Sword Knows
 For Passionate Lovers, In War, In Crowns With Thorns
 Where The Sweet Scents Of Affection Serenade The Soul
 Just As Battle Scars From Pangs Of War,
 Yet, Nothing Truly Is Ever Lost
 When You Turn Pain To Bards,
 Whether Battlefields Or Romance, Matters Not
 Wounded By The Cold Piercing Steel Tip Of Fraught,
 And The Mists Of Time Take It's Course
 And The Memories Are Stained With Pricks And Bones,
 With Life Comes Lessons, Regressions And Discourse
 In Symphonies Of Valor And Heartbreak And Remorse,
 Nothing Unfettered, Nothing Gained, In Devotion, In Lament With Swords
 Through Friendships, Through Amours
 So Bend the Will Of Hatred And Anger Like A Scimitar, Lay Down The Glaive
 And Plant The Seed For Better Days

Muse

Muse
===================
Just an un-thought thought.
The least touch of a feather or
draught from
           the beating wing of a bird;
A telescope taking focus on
     Saturn's rings,
     resolved in image,
          cut and colour.

The idea gestating in a crate
     sealed shut under a slatted grate
asking to be prised apart with a
     number nine tyre iron as

the gyrating stars gazed down
     upon nothing,
rounding Earth's scimitar sharp crescent
      with an ineffable and total
      cosmic indifference.

Now Or Never

Calm like a mountain brooding o'er the sea,
I stood at the edge of the bridge hoping to end this fight,
Choked by the thorns and brambles of early adversity,
My thoughts scattered over the world like ant-hills,
I’ve been shielding this feeling,
It brute terrors like the scurrying of rats in a deserted attic.

I long to be loved, accepted, heard and pampered,
Memorable moments standing the test of time,
Clenched little hands like rumpled roses, dimpled and dear,
But I’m companionless,
As the last cloud of an expiring storm whose thunder is its knell,
Who knows if I’m living to die or dying to live?

I am ready to deal with this pain cruelly and squarely,
It can only take a bullet in the mind to hold me back,
But my effort is creeping like a snail, unwillingly to actuate,
Tears and heart breaks gather like foul birds,
Run and surge fiercely to and fro my delicate soul,
Like the red harbor-buoy.

I think it’s time to put a stop to all these,
My heart is about to turn cold,
I still wonder how to move unto uncertain future,
But I hear voices and words;
Every phrase is like the flash of a scimitar,
And it says fight; win, ready or not, now or never.

Barba Tenus Sapientes

Collective consciousness
Folded over into a square
Wrapped around a tree trunk
Etched with a scimitar
Another guidepost
To the morning star
Ad nauseam
Barba tenus sapientes

Cowabunga

7/13/17



Cowabunga
I'm coming in with a hunga munga
Near and far from any rotunda
Going in and out the umbra
While close and beyond yucca
Across desert, grassland, forest and tundra

Yargh!
Now I'm wielding a katar
And scimitar
On par
Ready to spar
Time I raise the bar

Hallelujah
Next I'll use the zhua
Above and below plants and fruit trees such as satsuma
Regarding any terrain with or without puma and vicuna
As well as waters that do or don't have tuna, beluga and barracuda
If that doesn't work, then surely will the bazooka

Glows Like Golden Grain - the Bragi Style

~Glows Like Golden Grain ~
( Bragi )

Beautiful first spring day
Bountiful sun but then may rain
Enticing spring is here again at last 
Each ray of sun illuminates so fast
Bright sunshine glows like golden grain
Glad spring shines bright this day.

Butterfly dance here and there fast
Most beautiful springs here again
The airs so mild today
The sky is blue and clouds hide and play
So lovely the sun rays sustain
And to all its beams of warm light it cast.


Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2017


June.01.2017


“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” 
- Mark Twain 


~Author's Notes:

 
 The 'Bragi' is said to be suited for scenic beauty and “the elfin”. Created by Thelma Allinder, it became popular through a 1950’s publication,Scimitar and Song.
 The Bragi is stanzaic, written in 2 sixains. (12 lines)
 syllabic,6/8/10/10/8/6/10/8/6/6/8/10 syllables per line.

 Rhymed, rhyme scheme abccba cbaabc. (abccbacbaabc)

The Devil I Know

The eyes blazed with fire bright 
Hair black as space unknown 
Skin smooth like satin touch
In seductive voices she lets her scriptures flow
And that’s the devil I know 
Better the devil I know 
Blood warm lips that taste like wine 
Long tapered fingers that entwine 
My soul for her to keep 
That’s the devil I know 
Better the devil I know 
Her chest heaves in play 
As she makes my body sway 
Her grey hound thin waist 
Delight my tastes with the slightest brush
Curved like a scimitar blade
Her back ripples like dragon scales 
With unholy grace such that’s only seen to be believed
She wraps her legs around me 
Her scent of passion surrounds me 
All I can do is try to breathe
Spent and wasted I lie 
Next to the devil I know 
Better the devil I know 
I wake in days to hide 
My nights spent to cry 
Hoping, wishing, dying 
Yearning her return
Better the devil I know
That’s the devil I used to know

Metaphor and Simile We Flog Them So To Death

Oh I am a little metaphor
I love to play a word,
today I am a fortress on 
Tuesday I’m a bird	

On Wednesday I’m a simile
cos I’m like a train, storming
into history,to  play this wordy game

On Thursday’s I push the boat out,
ploughing through the waves, then
Fridays I’m like a scimitar, slicing 
through the raves

And if you catch me weekend,  I 
won’t hold a grudge, just take me
as you find me,  wink, wink,
nudge, nudge, nudge.

The Dot

Im a dot,
A small black powerful dot,
I can spoil a celebrity autograph 
I make void a bank cheque signature
I can spoil a sentence, a tiny story:
“A man walked along the. road”
With my friends, we make something mysterious:
“then the door closed………………….”
I highjack a comma
;
I meet up with another dot
:
I question myself with a scimitar shape
?
We dots, team up with our friends, the dashes to make the well known Morse code
. - .. - - .

A Hollow Shell

a hollow shell
of tangled synapses
sparked into gradual madness
which drowns out the truths of the day
as the mind reeks of the rotten sad moments
that swirl in the rancid soup of forgotten dreams
dreams that once traced a gentle path of innocence
dreams that reached for pure love’s tender touch
dreams now paralysed but once vivaciously alive
what became of those fresh dreams and hopes
as they lie mustily on dusty bookshelves
torn into shreds by time’s fine scimitar
devoid of the touch of raw passion
when all that remains of love is
a hollow shell

Culling

Culling
Back in the ancient long ago,
We had the great Crusades,
Men with red crosses on their chest,
Used swords against scimitar blades,

Todays evil ones would murder all,
Is death a disease,
Does hatred of mankind, bitter gall,
Create such misery?

It is in man to cull the crop,
To trim the numbers there,
With 6 billion on the planet, stop,
Another, world slaughter, so unfair?

Murder is in the heart of some,
It festers, and the deed is done,
It’s enough to get you on the rum,
The bitter harvest there…

Don Johnson  23-aug-11

The Sister Who Made Her Brother Halcyon

Oh my dearly beloved sister,
I'll come as the raindrops to sleep on your flowery heart
Nothing in this Universe possesses the power to set us apart
Compared to you and me, Monalisa is not the greatest art
When you are alone, I'll will be right with you as your breath
You are the equation for every single deliberation I do in math
My soul will still be with you even after I got racked up by death

Oh my dearly beloved sister,
When you become the night sky
I'll embellish you with dazzling technicolour stars
When you ever wanted to cry
I'll make you smile with the tunes of sitars 
When your throats are going to dry
I'll cool them with the Sakura's fragrant attar
Whenever you say the word "bye"
I feel the excruciating pain of a thrusting scimitar

Oh my dearly beloved sister,
How could I ever live without your smile by my side
Oh, sincerely, without you, my heart would have dried
The aroma of your canorous words is my greatest pride
The light from your honey-splashing cheeks is my guide
In the paradise, the God had this relation forever tied...

Crusader

Crusader

Back in our history of the blest
We had the great crusades
Men with red crosses on their chest
Swords against the Scimitar blades

Yes battles fought and lives were lost 
Religious faith, obsession
The same true God, the awful cost
Death scythe’d with great aggression.


Todays evil ones would murder all
Is death now a disease
Does hatred of mankind, bitter gall
Create such misery

If Hatred turned back on self
Creates for you depression
Insanity now does spend the wealth
Is that now your impression

Don Johnson

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