Treaded Poems | Examples

County Road 43

the road became a tree-lined tunnel—flickers of
crepuscular rays try to play tag with the squirrels 
as they stutter-dash across the shafts of you’re-it!
a free for all, until the road-tires butt-in—
flattening all the rules on a tire-treaded squirrel.

the light reacts with a sudden shift—to renew.
anticrepuscular rays converge to the antisolar point.
a change in perspective as the light beams fall. 
inflating the tire-treaded squirrel with a do-over.
the game goes on until sunset or the next rogue tire.

Volumes

Volumes


With broken steps
and weakened feet
she treaded cautiously 
tickling the leaves 
as they began to sing
a rustling hymn

Afloat

I am simply trying to stay afloat 
In an otherwise sinking land
An escape between past and future 
An island of pain 
Treaded up 
Barefoot in the sand 
Grains of memories stuck in the creases 
Standing is sore 
Walking is sore
On my hands and knees I beg
Relief is all I pray for 
The physical and mental torment 
Occupying a vessel that doesn’t know how to swim 
My head hurts from thinking 
My hands hurt from holding on 
The sun hasn’t risen in a while now 
But the clouds bare a similar resemblance 
To the ache that wants to be unearthed 
Tears and rain, all in the same 
A necessary cleansing so we can grow beyond

Reflection in the dark

Through Amazon's treaded path, I tread unaware.
Each step, each breath a calculated dare.
Moonlight dances on a lake's dark face
Divided waters, like my forgotten past's dark place.
                                                                                               ~Byeol

__________________________________________________________________________________________explaination: this poem explore the human experience of navigating life's journey with caution and deliberateness. The poet's path is marked by self discovery, risk- taking and interconnectedness of past, present and future. Inviting readers to reflect on their life's journey.

discoloured palette

cyan blues indigo into nighttime
darkness scorches the soul to the core
hellfire’s charcoal embers 
dissipate lightness of being
achromatic void
engulfs a self-fulfilling promise

rose petals wither by the wayside
trudged and treaded upon
flame red converts to burnt sienna
a mere shadow dances in the heat

hunter green pastels fade in exhaustion
an emerald pendant strings 
a chafed neck in a choking embrace  

mustard gold’s alchemy
folds citric sunflowers
away from its rainbow
where a pot of tar
repeats the circular path

suave mauve corrodes
into rust and necessity’s must
clusters indecision 
and meaningless desire

the prism yields prison
and yet all colours
would merge into white
when the pail becomes 
half full once again
and chakras confide
to the canvass
and the portrait of truth

Sacred Grounds

I stand on the grounds once treaded by my 
Ancestors
I represent countless generations gone
Before me
The soils are bathed with their tears and blood
My fore father's once once stood on these
Hallowed grounds 
But their spirits urges us on to carry on the
Torch

          (Written 10th March, 2024)

Sugar Momma

   Sugar Momma is en route to Anytown Enlightening, 
  Elevating and Uplifting with unwavering Confidence 
spreading good vibes, and energy to everyone,  talking to everyone. Left, right, right, left as she approaches they all
stop and stare as her presence illuminates the chambers

Facts remain Sugar Momma has endured so much pain
in her paths, She has treaded jumping over hurdles near and far yet she hasn't hardened her heart. Sugar Momma

She has been through many disappointments full of
pain, and heartaches with turbulent tests and tribulations 
on this road called life. Sugar Momma

Sugar Momma is set up with traps and plots methodized by
familiar faces trying to break her spirit yet Sugar Momma
has not let defeat overthrow her nor separate her from the Divine and her visions. Sugar Momma

The Risk

Have I paved a path that’s not meant to be used?
Did my utmost plea turn vile to thy ears?
Still, I treaded the path towards your pleasing eyes.
Now, sorrow and grief, for long, shall abide.
Never did I knew that sorrow and grief has conspired.

No Shaking Words

Not once did I fall,
but countless.
Words shaking,
fearing the tender,
touch of clouded mystery.
Should the mind's waters,
spill from the glass,
to whom will it fall,
the good or the bad?
The grains of my sand,
are the pieces of the void,
where my mind treaded always.
It is kept in my chest,
with a lock in my heart,
that should someone wish,
to steal my sand,
it will be futile.
I will protect,
what streams from my soul.
For, once before,
everything nearly costed,
my Soul.

Horrors of Autumn

Why must autumn take me back to the sunshine days of my love?
Love, non-existent now
Buried in the depths of the ground
like someone throws away broken pottery, our love has been trudged and treaded on 

Why must autumn bring with it gusts of your musky smell?
The same fragrance that takes me back to your neck, 
The fragrance I had willed myself to forget

Autumn was the month of decaying beauty
Of oranges and reds ,rusted browns 
And now I cannot even look out the window
Without the biggest frown

Autumn now is nothing but the painful reminder of lost romances, of kites struck down before they got the chance to fly
Of blue birds, now buried under the soil
That once mastered the skies

Autumn is now nothing but the reminder of my wounds
That I hide under my blood red armour
Of pain and loneliness
Of soldiers dying all alone
And so, the little girl that loved when the trees started turning red
Has grown to dread the very sight of blood gushing out of her hand.

Upon the White Horse-1

His eyes as a flame of fire
On his head were many crowns
And he had a name written
that no man knew but himself
And he was clothed with a vesture
dipped in blood
And his name is called the word of God
So I read this two times I needed understanding badly
So I listen  with an intensity
My Brown Eyes shyly read the other page
And the armies which were in the heaven
followed him upon the white horse clothed in linen
White and clean.

And out of his mouth continues to go a sharp sword
that with it his shoulder smite  the nations ok
And he shall rule them with a rod of iron
The Kings on earth  must be loved
The chosen lords in the land
And he treaded the winepress of the fierceness
and wrath of  Almighty God
And he had on a vesture
On his thigh, a name is written
KING of Kings and LORD of Lords!The White Horse
The word of God
I thought about this today.

Pieces of Me

I once knew a little girl coming of age. She often put her trust in people, places and things. She met liars, cheaters, users, abusers frequently in her mind, soul
her self esteem broke, her kindness taken for weakness she was labeled a fool,
crazy, stupid because she cared too much. ungrateful individuals seemed
to be captured by her presence. places she treaded searching for an escape
only to face mental abuse on repeat that turnt to broken trust, disappointments,
and physical abuse that turnt to brokeness. weariness seeking to regain her 
Self-control, spiraling out of control, continously lied on, her name scandalized. She's wearing these labels for game? and often the topic for belittlement, She
was ridicule . This little broken, despite that she is overcoming, striving to stay
on track for this little girl is blooming into a woman that holds love in her broken
spirit to dim her light yet stillness and tranquility remains in her heart.

Burning Thought

In a place, the eyes could barely lead,
For the pair were no more of any use.
Clouded by past memoirs, some glow and some so blue.
Lost thereof, for nothing else made any sense. 

Behind shut lids, I embraced each moment.
Time and time again, into limbo I treaded further. 
Unknowingly erasing my prints to make certain my no return.
If only I knew that my meal was my peril. 

Tighter I clung to many pasts so laced.
As my thoughts smelted my lids to be forever shut.
Like a death potion gravely sought, 
My deep craves a deep that slowly swallows me whole. 

If only I could...
...stop and return here where it all started.
But then, the darkness of thoughtlessness shall begin.
 And that, I dread the most.
If my essence be my pain, then that shall I remain.
Burn in my thoughts until there is nothing left of me. 

By Hart Adolphus

Fallen Star

Twinkling, Twinkled fallen star one has treaded paths of the unknown only to be guided to rediscovery of self love and light, entering lows seeking a new dimension  to twinkle bright seeking love and happiness easing on downs these journeys of peace and solace.

Nonconformist Idealist

A catholic priest from the Scottish highlands,
Scotus treaded a nonconformist philosophic path,
deviating from the high middle age mainstream,
for his doctrines of realistic beliefs he was maligned.

Digressing from the prevalent dualist tenet of his times,
he denied the distinction between essence and existence,
the abstract concept of living in monism perception
led him to propose the notion of univocity of being.

He countered the contention of divine illumination,
ensuring derivation of precise and pure knowledge,
in situations where the thinking process was fallible,
like the rejection of immaculate conception of Mary.

Proponent of metaphysical introspect contemplation,
for him theology was the practical science of God,
deciding the ultimate union of the liberated soul
with the divine trinity through love in the eternity.

________________

March 25, 2022
Contest : John Duns Scotus
Sponsored by : Joe Maverick

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