turbulence unrelenting
despite sand blown eyes
squinting
all I could see was you…
tossed around
slammed to the ground
dazed and confused
still
all I could see was you…
hope eternal
in the midst of furious hell
upon me that fell
still
all I could see was you…
as I drank from a bitter cup
of tears and fears
my vision transfixed
all I could see was you…
mind bent
knees skint
still
all I could see was you…
locked in my sight
giving me the might
to not give up
through the darkness
into the forgiving light
I made it through
you were my beacon
shining bright
through it all
never losing sight
I kept my eyes on you….
Thrust in the center of the storm,
all I could see was you;
Brewing at the zenith of your strength,
so hard to get through.
But I dared rising up
and chose to let you go,
before ruining my life
and lead me to an absolute fiasco.
You’ve embraced more
yourself and your vices,
Always coming home intoxicated
All you’ve were void promises
Inflicting sufferings, bruises…
I couldn’t endure anymore.
So exhausted!
Thrust in the center of the storm,
all I could see was you;
Cyclone’s eye was at your throne
thrusting me so harshly to,
But I was fervor enough
to ask resilience from up above;
Survived by His grace,
I've moved on easily lifting my face.
Having found a peaceful life
I’ll rebuke my license as your wife
Your daughter and I will be together
I can be both her mother and father.
So many times I visit sorrow.
I gave you my heart to borrow.
I've walked this path too much.
Evil as such.
Horrifying to grasp this love.
Blood covers the sin on my glove.
I feast a lot on pain,
Nothing but rejection to gain.
I love, but not love that should be.
I hide from that evil I so often see.
So innocent from the start.
Too stupid, too smart...
I cry for souls that are lost, mostly my own.
Love hurts, I should have known.
I fear the power of unity.
I crave sweet serenity.
The Heart of Lust, struggling to offer trust.
It conquers good,
Provokes evil,
creating a sensuous mood.
Why hide from power?
We are not the innocent flower.
Love is what I'm striving for.
Yet, the tunnel is dark towards that mystical door.
Sources of evil lusting for my soul.
Destruction their only goal.
Surrender to the unknown presence,
Feel it's dark essence.
Total destruction of body and mind.
Leave love behind.
Envision inner peace.
Embrace lust and ignore the desire to cease.
The truth is, we live a lie.
We must enjoy life, for we all will die.
Pulp wrung out of sunset squeeze
Chinese dragon clouds
make mandarin marquees
Purple curtain shrouds
Folks without homes nobody sees
Electrified skies spark dust to flare
inside a vacant apartment
Twilight society’s fabric tears
Cringe crimson impairment
Wealth shields from irradiated glare
Wishing star stuck in limbo, catapults
daydream sun, distant flung
Pigeon sprauchle sudden vanish jolts
Mortified moon, hopes hung
Crusted blankets magic carpet vaults
8th November 2024
Written for Contest:
Jolted by Twilight
Sponsor: Di11y Da11y
All said and done
Nigeria is the giant of Africa
Though currently lost in a maze of confusion
The giant is on a journey of self-realization
The journey of self discovery
Shedding its skin of criminal enterprise
Preparatory to launching
into orbit of true colossus
That destiny has thrust upon her
Rapists currently taking advantage
Of her lust for inanity
Be warned and retrace your steps
For calamity awaits every partaker
In her current misadventures
For the sleeping giant is at the dawn of its wakefulness
THRUST AND SLASH
A sword in a scabbard, hung from the belt
For the Teutonic Knights, it costs much geld
Heated and tempered but it does not melt
Most blades are l straight and double sided
Easy to draw as the long blade is guided
To the old Eastern mind, such is derided
The Moorish influence is in Toledo still
With a special steel that is designed to kill
For fancier guardsmen it would fit the bill
A cutlass is curved with cupped brass guard
Designed for slashing when stabbing is hard
But need sharpening if the edge is marred
Knives however, like most daggers, are hid
An arm for a lady to grip, and quietly slid
Ready for determined action, as many did
Some thin to a point, as a poignard will do
But there are other places to find them too
As for a Scot in a sock, that’s a Skean Dhu
'2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 19' entry, 03 Nov 2022. Sponsor=Mark Toney
Opening the front screen door
a fierce wind played tug-of-war
Not to be denied, I tried again
~ the chimney whistled in the den
into side must thrust
wind would come up with a gust
did survive from dust
we knew they were trans
which had been part of their plans
either Fred's or Fran's
we love our mother
is perfect like no other
even another
fire seemed to spread
trees burned up than were dead
dreamed of when in bed
to God we will pray
tornado not come our way
away from us stay
Carolina country
with an iron foundry
along the boundary
Need to have a poetry group at
St. James Episcopal Church.
I hear you
Pounding loudly
Soundly
Falling fast asleep
Each drop
Flashbacks
Going back and forth
Pores raising
The sound of rain
Starting all over again
The universe ends somewhere
It obviously must
I’m gonna build a rocket
And call it ‘Final Thrust’
I plan to fill my rocket
With everlasting fuel
In space I’ll be eternal
Which might be rather cool
I’ll rocket on forever
until I reach the edge
And find out what is there
A fence, a wall, a ledge?
But now my plan gets clever
My space suit’s set to go
I’m gonna Space-walk to the edge
To know what I must know
And when I face the edge of space
My plan gets even bolder
I’m gonna reach my arm right through
And tap me on the shoulder
For Those Thrust into War's Maw
by Michael R. Burch
This poem is dedicated to Harvey Stanbrough, an ex-marine who was nominated for the 1999 Pulitzer Prize and has written passionately and eloquently about the horror and absurdity of war in “Lessons for a Barren Population.”
No, I will never know
what you saw or what you felt,
thrust into the maw of Eternity,
watching the mortars nightly
greedily making their rounds,
hearing the soft damp hiss
of men’s souls like helium escaping
their collapsing torn bodies,
or lying alone, feeling the great roar
of your own heart.
But I know:
there is a bitter knowledge
of death I have not achieved,
and in thankful ignorance,
and especially for my son
and for all who benefit so easily
at so unthinkable a price,
I thank you.
Published by Romantics Quarterly, Poetic Reflections and Poetry Super Highway as "Privilege." Keywords/Tags: Vietnam War, marines, military, service, honor, duty, bravery, heroism, maw, mortars, rounds, souls, escaping, bodies, corpses, death, heart, roar, bitter, knowledge, thanks, thank you, war, violence, USA, military, courage, patriotic, hero
Phineas' revenge for the Lord
thrusting his miniature sword
in Zimri, Israelite prince...
Modern sensibilities wince
but for Jews, it just wasn't right
to romance the Midianites
To pierce today’s attention span,
fewer words are best
A point honed sharp for one deep thrust
—one is all you’ll get
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
oh lord
what bird is free
in
spirit
with thee
that
thrush its wings
through
the
singing sky
with
words
above
the
shining sea
A sword thrust,
parried before it’s
finale;
a pistol misfired
aimed at;
my immortal thoughts
held at bay
by the;
a wasted life
wondering,
please my love,
for me;
AIM STRAIGHT
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.