It is you: the queen of hearts dubb my last breath your own even in death in a hole the rose above my chest...my- epitome, i'd call you home enveloping my broken stature beside fallen walls and stones ...here lies the unsung singing bones... of snow white love bird in pitch black storm trenched skylines... here lies the ...the ashes of stars that were once lost in light the sacred writ that true love will never write ...that it'd be ...the fallen tree of budded apples lost together in a sea...
Entangled by the web we weave,
thoughts provoked, but, yet deceive.
Passing blame with slight, of hand,
a golden calf that shines so grand.
An altar set, his words are praised,
a barren field his flock is grazed.
Thirst and hunger are seldom quenched,
until at last, they all are trenched.
Be careful of the book you read,
a soured quill will slay your seed.
Praising ink wrote down by man,
is not the way and not the plan.
A fleeting moment comes every hour,
self-righteous deeds will soon devour.
Open your eyes and see the catch,
He throws the ball while you play fetch.
savoured the roses in the garden
especially the climbing variety
because they had no bounds
and therefore represented
the wild passion of change
the juice of fresh blackberries
ran down as he picked and imbibed them
consumed by their nature
he never minded the prickly thorns
scratching at his skin and his soul
yet calluses on his hands and mind
sometimes took him to a darker place
and the undergrowth would not shelter
a numb kind of restlessness
from a peace not to be had
but he had always been able
to salve the wounds
sometimes picked at the scars
as if to remind himself
that he was frightfully alive
calendula gave him respite
chamomile reminded him
of the healing power of
patching up sores that
appeared out of nowhere
and out of somewhere
only to be seen through that lens
of refraction reflection
and parallel consciousness
as he trenched through the soil
his hands a trowel
and fingers and rake
he minded the earthworms
which sooner or later
would decompose what was left
16th May 2023
So, we get trenched into this sniper’s ground?
Round after round after round after round.
So, we get put here to fight someone’s war?
Man after man after man after man.
So, we breath gun smoke and the rotting human corpse?
Night after day after day after night after night after day.
So, we must run and fire into no man’s land?
Bang after bang after bang after bang.
So, we must kill for what is must?
Death after death after death after death.
So, we must fight and die to end all wars?
War after war after war after war after war after war after war after war.
Up to Mount Olympus
Where the Rabbi sits
Dolling out Mitzvah
In his sing song voice
Down into the pit
Where evil boils hot
Spewing out terror
In earth-shaking noise
Over to the West
Where the KING reigns
From a castle of blood
In-trenched by kids
On the winds of the East
Where the emperor struts
Whirling the air with breath
In disasters that alter the grid
One ROAR brings it all tumbling down....
Written by Trudy Schrader on 02-19-2022
Memories' claws catch weakness, sore substitutes for truth
Mind's future sambas hipswung with anticipated brew
Mother bird waits for non viable form to peck forth
- Maybe deserves haven, hollow where wings never grew
Taken for pyschiatric watch, her dignity snatched
Wheeled through corridors' dizzying demented askew
Violent spine flings translate her refusal to succumb
Praise oblivion wets periphery drenched in dew
Crazy called, insane answered, chat ensued furious
Before corridors consumed, dance quenched, she flew
Rhythm of obedient pulse beeps sanity's seep
Doctors molest old memories trenched, vague faded few
Sigrid's void has only her instinctive drive to leave
Hopeful risen dandelion seed on next gust blew
August 30th 2020
Syllable count per line is 13.
Bears no representation
to my experience
(just thoughts)!
Poppies grow on bone meal
Will the sorrowed soil heal
A wooden cross shows fare
The bullet one should spare
When minds have come to rest
Could madness be a test
For those who never learn
That Karma does return
19th March 2020
Quiet flows at dawn the turbid river
Thu’ the trenched terrace of thicket
The morning mist of mystique aura
Rises from sunshine splashed water.
In wobbling water wades weary angler
The fishing line flung for the rare catch
Hopes a trick will emerge out of his hat
Hook a fish soon for company at dinner.
May 7, 2019
Photo chosen : # 3.
Whisperers of sweet words clanging in her mind
Eyes so weary, environs were the scattered love letters
A night came, when a gentleman decided to pledge on her troth
As she walked in, rippling was the tailored red dress she wore
Just a blink, down he knelled, grinning to her
And then with his timid heart, he opened that tiny container
Seeing that shiny medal, enamoured she felt
Keenness clogged up her mind, ere she said 'yes'
Her heart trenched, for his love to trickle
Kindred they soon became, as if yore they met
Most nights, summoned was the waiter, that know their favourite
Her smiles of gratitude, which lifted his spirits to love her greatly
Anon enough, the couple endowed with the most precious gift
A dear heat little girl, her beauteous face, eyes like her mother
There's more than just twelve feet of twain
between total happiness and emotional pain
It's unfathomable, for they shall never meet
The distance is similarly much the very same
as is substantial derision 'tween cold and heat
There is much disparity amidst goat and sheep,
although they both have four legs and bleat
Assonant as the depth of a trenched abyss
the golden rays of sun; beams of silver moon
while one is wide awake, the other is asleep
Half a world away is midnight from high noon
The chasm is a wormhole, millenniums deep
It's a contrast amid abundance and emptiness
Never the twain to coincide. There's no egress
Woes of sorrow to the one who tries to compensate
for the lack of love that causes him to drown in hate
park bench drenched
with dreams
that
stanch
dream a bleed
with seeds
crop
the
greed
speak through me
shoulder tap
hand
ruler slapped
dark stench trenched
park bench drenched
?
Rainbow
It’s raining in my soul
hailing a hurricane of
desiccated tears drenched
to the bones and trenched
in my mindless mind
Constant pitter patter cracker
crocker like a desert under
water silence noise demise
Flooding iron cages of reason
leaks in abundance cascades
of unfelt emotion trickling
feeling what cannot be felt
Storm water defences over-spun
in endless loops of hidden sun
in torrents of nothingness
Leaks are the cracks where the
light gets into the solar stellar
moon moist musky meandering
at the cliff face of healing
Vents and releases are to limit
drowning drowsy suffocation
asphyxiation storm cloud’s haze
Walls will be crumbling
soul-muck can subside in
light of nothing but the rainbow
so far unleashed under cover
of grime and mind-soap deluxe
If it was that easy I would not be
writing this poem would be the
rainbow instead of the shadow
but I can attempt to pitter patter
to a different tune and tremor
2012/2016
Old Soldiers
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Old soldiers not born for war at all.
Father's brave and cold
Send into battle
And defend..
Home made men with chili courage
Gallant audacious and courageous
Very valuabe to their children
Never had a chance
To be good cuddle daddy's
They were alone and in fear
And no one near
The enemy bullet pierced them
And they bled and bled
And trembled tremble
Who sent them out there ?
Tremble tremble
Did they care ?
Quiver and shudder
They left the home
Leaving wife 'n child
Waiting their blank return
Their famliy field's are green
And their home is painted within.
Old Soldiers
Camaraderie in the war
Trenched , trampled , bruised in battle
Wounded father soldiers bravely fought
Returned in batches of boxes instead
Their courage..
Their hard fight.
Rewarded only
In memory of medals.
" the last thing Billy
done for me ...
was to paint the wall ..
and hang our portrait
above the dinner wall
before he left for war "
Only a cleft is left
In the lonely heart
Of the soldier's wife ..
And his name coldly
Embossed in marble
6 feet under in a cemetry.
Old soldier's did not
Want a war.
Moving towards high
In a transit period of time
Moved up in the troposphere, mesosphere.
Like a pinnacle of earth
In the layers per layers
Like a feel good factor
But one thing you forget
You have a heart
Which is surrounded by social animal’s
You listen to your heart
Like a finger cross
You close your eyes
and you jumped down
You thought you will reach
The surface of earth
But you fall down
Further n reached the marina trenched.
and there were plants that binds your legs
You started shaking your whole body
To get away with that .
as you have lungs
You cannot survive In deep ocean
Luckily you streched your legs hard
And started swimming without knowing swimming
and you reach above n reach surface
Wow what a wonderful experience
Covered such a huge length
Memories of your soft skin haunt me
Tracing the dimples of your body
used to set my fairy tale so free
I now hemorrhage at my love core,
a rupture of your affair before
My life trenched in a living cold war
I bleed red waves of relentless pain,
throbbing tracks of a cold diesel train
My lost mind an abyss of black rain
light escapes my present closed sight
I am not able to see the right
I can only see a vengeful smite
My blood runs out as the lonely night
a Cut now brings forth the dying light
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.