Short Ramparts Poems

angry torrents flail
boisterous waves scale ramparts
enfilading streams...

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rocky plain girds base
icy ramparts ballast slopes
frozen mantle crowns...

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Sagebrush
Windy redoubt
Green sentinels shielding
Enfilading rays pound ramparts
Stagecoach...

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Freeing the myth,
begotten to dream

Ramparts to crumble
—Sorcerer’s scheme

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: February, 2021)...

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Tis, this other life
Appearing only as dream
Day I left your side
Ramparts that did not collide
Yet, I know still deep inside...

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let us

drink the chartreuse

yellow green fields with our

eyes till we escape our ramparts

with wings 




-maria corado
5/16/18...

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Whistling wind
wrestling with withered leaves
on the cocoa farm
Lifting debris does not pay
I plead thee
go to our leaders' hearts
blow down their stony ramparts...

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Are you a servant
to creation’s lord,
every word indentured trope

In towers of despair
each phrase a step 
—on the stairs to love and hope

(The New Room: March, 2021)...

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My heart was hidden behind undetectable ramparts 
He mischievously tiptoed over my heart, spreading fairy dust
Infiltrating every particle, echoing his call~~...

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Security is tight, the world is different now
To each man and woman we must be vigilant and vow
To do our small part
To shore up the ramparts
So for peace loving people, our freedom will allow...

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Reigning in his own demise,
the alcoholic stumbles

Falling from the ramparts high,
hard upon the ground

A monarchy of lost regret,
in anger’s shame he crumbles

Trapped inside a broken dream
—heartache’s thorny crown

(Rosemont College: July, 2021)...

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Fashioned in enameled vacancy,
the gentry’s veil was pierced

Exposed unclean, all vices seen,
through fury sharp and fierce

The folly of their blasphemy,
whose cover all but blown

With blood to flow from ramparts high
—once driven from the throne

(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)...

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Dawn’s herald sounds forth,
Night’s ramparts are stormed,
Her daunting walls breached.

Westward she withdraws,
Her keep abandoned,
The conquest complete.

Day’s standard flies high,
Proclaiming rebirth,
Warming the chill land.


Written 13/04/2015
~Shane Cooper~
...

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what breach of faith
has time wrought?
like cannonballs
through ramparts and walls
each day bores on,
unflinchingly through page after page
of sickening drivel.

the sun contentedly wallowing
in its yellow sty turns over
without a snort.

at day's end it seeks other fields
to root and hog.

(undated 1979)...

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Within this structure,
my words remain
Each line a fortress,
as thoughts refrain

The ramparts solid,
its moat retracts
All quivers loaded,
as doubt attacks

The enemy constant,
assault on fire
What darkness births,
one phrase retires

The battle spoken
upon the wind
My legend written
—still safe within

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)...

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Ramparts adorn the castle walls
Amidst them slotted turrets
Making for a grim façade
Inside a moat that repelled many
Fortress of all it guards
In its depths a dungeon
Captives were placed there
A home to torture chambers
The stains of blood darkly visible
Inferno pit in the centre
Over which people were hung alive
No mercy given here to foes
Screams heard for miles around...

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The ramparts of my existence span wings
of time...beating of my heart allows me to
believe I am here...then again, when am I not
leaving behind states of consciousness
I fly into the arms of wonderment
some part of me questions whether anyone
else notices I am flying through the heavens
most favorite moments of perceived freedom
dressed in a sweater woven of prayerful
reminders......

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In the lap of holy Ganges
Mystic waves crawled upon him
Ripples of love embraced and   
Divine showers Ganges wet his cheeks.

Saw him in reflections of depth
Blurred it away by blowing breeze 
Hymns of nearby ramparts,
Echoed off and reverberated like holy smoke.

When moonlight lit the lamp.
Last shadows filled emptiness 
Then saints preached "Death
As eternal stretches of life"....

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The unhistorical museum
Misses thousands of years
Its grazier-rich sole reference
To peoples whose breath has lingered millenniums
Is a back-of-drawer
Cast-away reference
To the problem.

In square-framed wall hangings
Escutcheons of capital dominate
Captured views of time-challenging
Individual property-retaining ramparts
Outside maggies and their feathered foes 
Still remember
How to circle....

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In the song of the antelope,
  the Prince heard his Queen

Now locked in a convent,
  her beauty unseen

The tower still distant,
  its ramparts on guard

Just one point of entry
  a hero’s reward

The mist in the valley
  her prison unseen

Through clouds in the distance
  her pleadings, her screams
  
The miles before him
  twin antlers ahead

His future unfolding
  —his destiny wed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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In the Song Of The Muses,
  the Prince heard his Queen

Now locked in a convent,
  her beauty unseen

The tower lay distant,
  its ramparts on guard

Just one point of entry
  a hero’s reward

The mist in the valley
  its prison to free

Through clouds in the distance
  her pleadings, her screams
  
Two miles before him
   all love waits abed  

The future unfolding
  —his destiny wed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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Forthwith over these ramparts be
What life and liberty means to me
The soldiers who gave their lives
That went to strife by their wives
So poignant be, what’s left instead.
Then are we saved from what’s ahead?

Tomorrow’s days we cannot replace, 
What yesterday’s left, without a trace.
For all the soldiers who gave their lives
That are only remembered by their wives
Will it make a difference, in the end.
Or is it all for naught, I can’t comprehend....

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No matter who you vote for
the government gets in
Left or right, day brings night
with colors gray and thin

The better parts of nature
get worse as time goes on
Bilateral infection
whose cure is woebegone 

As hubcaps change in order
the wheels forever spin
Tomato or tomatto
that same old song to sing 

A baby leaves its mother
new brick to build the wall
Ramparts trapping all inside
—beyond which prescience calls

(The New Room: May, 2023)...

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My home is on the farthest ramparts
And in the darkest of canyons deep 
Where scanning vultures circle my keep. 

My home is in the hottest jungles
And the sandy desert wastes so dry.
Where scanning buzzards circle and cry.

My home is in the frigid mountains
And huddled on shores rocky and damp
Where scanning ravens circle my camp.

I am on the prowl both day and night
Call me commando, seal, or ranger                    
Others thrive because I face danger....

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I need the ocean to protect me,
                            with its pounding surf.
                         Able to beat back,
                             my strongest fears.

                          Building sand castles,
                              up to the sky.
                          Standing behind its ramparts
                              defending my soul.

                          When you are away from me,
                                     I need to oean....

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