Warded Poems | Examples

A Book Of Shadows

In between a wand and a warded space 
lies an old Book Of Shadows to embrace;

Fee fried foe thumbs, 
throw them in as the guitar strums;

Picked over hair follicles and toenails,
A few fast words followed by quick inhales;

Freeze dried pho crumbs,
throw them in as the harp hums;

Now toss in the vibrato of a ghost,
that sound is the recipe’s binding host; 

Free fly fall mums! 
Fester rich color to smack drums;

Add to that something so easily missed,
subtle allows magic to come undressed;

Fae, fire cauldrons! 
manifest the desired outcomes;

In between a wand and the hand it takes,
lies an old Book Of Shadows to embrace.

Mercury Wave

When Water and Fire Collide
Tongues knoted in Silence, Silence Preside
Mercury Dulled Lovers Communication
Muddled Messages, Interactions Barely There
No Interest, No Warmth, No Feelings Shared
Creating Distractions to Minimized Relations
I am Here for Me, You're Here for You Situations
Eager to Strike a Match to Extinquish A Red Candle
Retrograde Realiazation, She's too Much to Handle
Afterall, 
She Walked Through the Fire Furnaced Air
With A Honey Pot Filled With Ale From the Fountain 
of The Dragon's Lair
She Saw Her Reflection In Mercury's Silvery Mirror
Emotionally Volatile, Diamond purifed of a Coal Cluster
So Now,
Under the Influence Of Miscommunication
Visible Lines were Blurred, Heated Moments
Dulled by Confusion, Desiring Isolation
In the End,
She Choose to Surf the Mercurial Anti Clockwise Wave
She Intelligently Flowed With the Current
Blatantly Refusing to Be Mercury's Warded Slave.

Celebrity Stone

A stone without value is not missed 
Even if it's easily possessed 
But a celebrity stone is given to much time and attention 
Even if it lies under the Earth's bone 
For it always gives a precious tune

Day and night it is guarded 
Sleepiness and tiredness are warded 
Just to watch it glimmer every night and everyday 
They do not even take a holiday 
For it's precious gleam gives a golden pay 

June 15, 2023

In His Footsteps

No other would be my hero, 
No other valiant combatant I have seen,
He gave all up until zero.

On his premise, I’d rather lean,
Imbibe his bravery and courage,
Fight every opposition until I win.

Wage against every tempestuous rage,
Disperse the midnight fog,
Break loose from fear’s cage.

Freed my wheel from its cog,
Wield my sword against the assailant,
Push all down the hill like a log.

Persevere until I've warded off the pursuant.



August 2, 2022.
Five Stanza Terza Rima Poetry Contest,
L. Milton Hankins

Life and Death

The Pale Rider

Astride an ashen horse,
a raven perched on his shoulder,
and a melancholy moon
beaming down gray shadows,
He held a gleaming scythe 
in one hand, and in his other, 
a damning edict from Hades,
the Lord of the underworld.
He was spurring on across 
some god-forsaken terrain
leaving the winds wailing in his wake.

He was racing against time
to ensnare one more good soul
before the rise of the sun,
to knock on one more door
before a sliver of sunbeam 
shine upon the morning dew.

He had his eyes ablaze
set upon the doomed soul
and his errand foreordained.  

But the entire universe works
toward salvaging a righteous soul
who repents his past wrongdoings

The sun rose over the eastern horizon
and warded off the onslaught of 
the condemnation to Hadean eternity…
as death dissipates with the mist of dawn.



~Contest: A Brian Strand July 22

Banksy

British graffiti artist. Controversial, polarizing, and deeply mysterious.

Awarded Person of the Year at the 2014 Webby Awards, but...

No one is quite sure who he is, or what he looks like. His talent, undeniable.

Known only by his pseudonym; rumored to be some "Robin Gunningham"

Surreptitiously completes his murals, and poof...he vanishes into thin air!

You may have looked into Banksy's eyes. It's a small world out there!




Date written: 08/23/2019

Remarkable Valedictorian

J-oyful
E-xcellent
R-emarkable
V-aledictorian
I-s
S-imply

A-warded
L-ovely
L-ot
E-njoying
N-oble

R-apture
A-s
M-ansion
O-pens
S-oon

Topic: PNPA 2019 Class Valedictorian (Bro. Jervis Allen Ramos) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic

I Want Us

I want us to walk
To a place we had, months ago
To access that instinctive calm
That warded off all calamity
And be who we were.

I want us to sit
As we had on 'our bench'
With your mass, rested on my lap
And finding comfort in fingers, interlocked 
Holding onto moments, we knew would be irreplaceable.

I want us to look
At a view that once captivated us
With our eyes swaying back and forth
And realising at their meet, the romance reflected
Sighting chemistry, we knew would be unmatched.

I want us to converse
As we had fluently before
With our minds expanding through each word
And foolishly making remarks, that warranted apology 
Engaging thought, we knew would be recalled.

I want us to love
As we had when we first sprouted
With us promising to each other, all we could afford
Asking only of presence, in return
Growing a togetherness, we thought would never part.

O Serene Night, O Distressed Heart

Disheartned by misery, I went to sleep
without praying and laying down so restlessly,
then awful thoughts drowned me in sadness:
the strongest soul that always warded off demons...
suddenly became the weakest and most miserable of all!

O serene night, return to my consciousness
and brighten these shadows hiding hope,
that hope which finds refuge in tranquility;
o distressed heart seeking a soft moonlight:
let morning unfold its glory and marvel me!

O serene night, o distressed heart...
do I have to wait and watch darkness
deepen my fear when this prayer can
vanquish all the gloominess around me?

Cold, Cold Wind

Walking when a cold, cold wind
Slowed my steps today,
My heart wanted to find
The warmth of yesterday.
 
Walking when a cold, cold wind
Swept my memory away.
I will not leave behind
The love of yesterday.
 
Walking when a cold, cold wind
Was all I could hear. 
Your voice in my mind
warded me from fear.
 
Walking when a cold, cold wind
reached my house near.
Then I came inside
And saved a single tear.

Adult Warded

Dark corners, beige walls.
Scribbles telling you to "Beware, Be Aware."
The shadows pass and a woman croons. 
"Let me buy my milk, 2 percent."
Laugh it off, "Get some rest."
Deep emotions for a "child".
"You're an adult now." 
Welcome to the crowd.

This isn't my place, I thought. 
Still just a "child".
Denial runs amuck.
"I'm fine. I'm great. I think it's time for me to leave this place."
Persuasive language takes its toll.
"That's fine! That's great!"
I'm finally back at home plate. 

But then the voices come.
Loud and fierce.
Shades of red and a glare that pierce.
A conscious takes it leave. 
Back to the dark corners and unwelcome friends. 
That one soggy puzzle piece, too warped to fit in.
The lamp that only flickers off.
A friend who couldn't be a friend from the start. 

And it's clear once again.
That I am lost. 
So I checked back in to those dark corners and beige walls. 
"Let me buy my milk, 2 percent"
I'm an adult now, I think I'll get some rest.

Oomph Here 2

Song in the wind
Gentle reminder:
Rain through bamboo trees


Chirpy delight
Instant enlightenment;
Heavy heart uplifted


Postcard from somewhere
Far far away:
Greetings from long journeys


Old photograph
Faded with old times;
Ancient memories linger


My mother's gaze
My father looks;
Picture of the dead


Pain taunts
Sufferings preside;
Soon liberation sublime


Hospital visit
A sick relative warded;
Healing family support


Two yellow birds
Canaries on wood ledge;
Sing of fond love



Leon Enriquez
27 July 2014
Singapore

Dust

Dust
                                     Frank Halliwell

A friend wrote a lament to dust.
She swore and fumed and long discussed
A publicly proclaimed decree
That dust was her sworn enemy!

But dust we know, has long withstood
Endless attacks by womanhood,
And warded off from dusk to dawn
Their sprays and rags and feathered wands.

It merely moves from place to place
Drifting around with easy grace,
Till once again it gently drops
To shelf and desk and tabletop

And settles down scorned and eschewed,
There to remain until pursued
Again in unavailing chase
Around the house from place to place.

But in the end, they suffer pains:
Sore backs and arms: -the dust remains,
For dust is an eternal thing
Always benign, not menacing!

As husbands know, the dust exists
For writing notes and grocery lists,
For jotting down phone numbers too!
- A handy kind of residue!

For one may write on dust with ease,
And save the paper, and those trees!
...A notepad that is heaven-sent
For guarding the environment!
                    o0o

Nazi Paris

Do images of I appear in her thoughts?

Or simply the fostering of quaint fantasies?

Through all pandemonium paramour is sought

Though warded within profound secrecy



Frantic I plea for reprieve

To recover voluminous wounds

Renounce excuse to grieve

Slaughter the walls of this cocoon



'Tis never known where time will guide us

Underneath the sun she soaked hollow promises

Issuing surreal decrees decayed of trust

To romantic encounters she remains a novice



Genuine amour long since faded

Perennial you've become jaded

The Apprentice

Bright orange flames arc from his outstretched fingers to his gnarled oak staff
crazy shadows dancing on the walls of the warded sanctum.
With a lifting of one eyebrow the apprentice flings the molten fire out and engulfs the
Lightning Balls with ease.  The lad strikes the butt of his staff on the stone ground and
with a clap of thunder, all magic winks out, both the flames and the lightning.

The Arcane Master rolls his eyes upward.  “Eh, show off.  You passed.  But you will find
life the real test, young Magister.”

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