Wert Poems | Examples

Premium Member Not clean enough to spit upon

'Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon',
I would not piss in your ear,
if your brain was on fire.
For what you have done defiles mercy's dung.
For on your face, the stain of wrongs is drawn, indelible,
And your words, beget bitter, pointless heartless disdain.
So soiled is your soul, and all grace is so far gone,
Forgiveness is pointless, a forlorn waste of time.

Ode to October

O October it seems even though thee pass capricing
    like sometimes wert here 
     and sometimes octopus of a thing or ocro
  or what somehow oakening through-  on breezes and 
   tides and sunlight stir and darkness. 
  And if thou be something still around I wished to be 
    the local sight of the moon here or amidst, 
    and if thou be a mountain I wished it to be this particular 
   Gangriwal or Mandra or Murba, 
   and  if thou be a tree I wished it to be pear or sweet 
    lemon fruit that sometimes we buy in the market, 
    for we love again and again this  cheerness  in October!.


Mea culpa my child

Thou wert frail, frailer still thy fate,
Had reasons fair to feel nigh riled,
Your sad eyes sure had looked for me, 
O my ill-fated child.

I was too far to welcome thee,
My child, had little time to wait,
Get admired in father’s fond arms,
And ye left, gone from gate.

Helpless not to have held to heart,
Nor yet welcome thou to my world,
Let me the least give thou this rose—
A bit frail, feeble, curled.

Now, amidst piles of painful thoughts
Lost in a time-warped and wan wave,
I’m left to see thy wilted soul,
O to see it till grave. 

Ye had come to us long years back,
A bit pallid, my child, and pale,
What a punch time’s chosen to punch,
A gust of wind’s turned gale!

And as I offer thee this rose,
Why, wonder I, wide-eyed and wild,
To just turn time’s page and feel good?
No, my guilt’s piled, my child.

I do admit my guilt, my child, 
In plight, for not doing my due,
Here, let me wish, thy new life’s pink,
The wretched me whilst rue.
________________________________________
Musings |03.05.2024| reminisce, remember, rose
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Mit dem niedrig carbon, Weg low grade carbon out

Politiker niedrig carbon auß
Low grade carbon Politicans go!
Ihr seid nicht nuztfoll kein wert
Kein ahnûnug
You are of no use, you are mindless
Cronies.' 
Der zukunft ist heir im Berlin heute
2024, die leüte sind rau! sie whërte
Du bist auß-pieste' die bauer
Im friedens laßen.!
The future is here, in Berlin today in
2024, the people are angry.' They are
Defending, you have gone off-track.'
Leave the farners in peace.'
Du bist niedrig carbon mensch
You are low value carbon people.!

Premium Member No Middle Ground

No Middle Ground
Miracle Man
6/12/2022

Between good and evil, there is no space,
only in our minds does this place exist.
Here, we try our works before Gods grace,
and untruth for honesty we will often twist.

In truth, we exist as either evil or good,
for G0d said he’d have us, either hot or cold.
At judgment we’ll account for the place we stood,
and if our witness for Him we’ve undersold.



Revelation 3:15
“I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot:
I would thou wert cold or hot.”
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member Wandering Ethereal Glow

Breathing on the strings of the heart
Confronted by a swarm of wings wert.
Swinging melody on your glass tightrope.
Like a pendulum swung in a chasm of hope.

 Much like Saturday evening, I wandered slow.
The sun was sparkling splendidly in the glow.
Say that the best to the voyaging thunderstorm.
A delightful day would have begun with smarm.

Amidst the bedlam, I hunted my firm voice.
She was chanting rustic tunes by burg rejoice.
I steered her away to a serene far-off barrow.
Under glossy azure, we sang beads to sparrow.

Take a deep breath and let go of the world.
Give me a grin and let the sorrow gnarled.

Written: April 10, 2022
Form: Sonnet

Tripping the Light Fantastic

"Tripping the Light Fantastic"



Dance?

She said,
romancing
the lost agenda

You’re so
left 
sold

(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)








“Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.”










sold
soled
souled

Reserata Carcerem Lvii

Porous pride sucked sassy strength leased
b' bounty biddings hoisted hurls greased.
"f two cods, crushed contentions dangled -
their salient stances 'n' hexed dribbles.

Quoth th' first t' twain bis, "Oft would you grudge?
Knowing that ere thou wert torn trudge
hoisted horizon "f pain punctured.
Why ergo thou'rt "n offshoot "f fractures?"

Torn twain b' lanky liquor smitten
which behove with erst ñ ill'sion driven,
hewn haggard syllables 'n' did robe
fractured folly 'n gullible glows.

Anon skipped torn twain like gazelle,
treading lands as waves - lured limbs hexed.
       '20:07:26:10:40

Note:
a) of damp drunkards
b) Written apace with Middle English lexis:
i) Hexed - Charmed
ii) Quoth - said
iii) twain - two
iv) bis - twice
v) oft - often
vi) ere - before
vii) wert - were
viii) ergo - then
ix) thou'rt - You're
x) behove - suited
xi) erst - first
xii) Anon - Immediately
xiii) Cods - Men
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) b' - by
ii) "f - of
iii) 'n' - and
iv) th' - the
v) t' - to
vi) 'n - in
vii) ñ - on
viii) "n - an
Form: Sonnet

Thou Good and Faithful Friend

THOU GOOD AND FAITHFUL FRIEND

Farewell, thou good and faithful oven mitt.
Thou hast served thy time but now must leave.
But ere thou goest, let us reminisce a bit
About the things thou helped me to achieve

My mother, who didst seek to teach me culinary art,
Gave thee to me in fifteen ninety-three
And told me thou wouldst play thy part
In making a successful cook of me.

We shared together good and bad of course;
Dost thou recall the early bread that never rose
Or venison I somehow made resemble horse?
And those sweetmeats tasting like God only knows?

But we stuck at it, thee and me
And now we have respect throughout the land.
We cook for banquets for nobility.
But I would nothing be if thou wert not on hand

But now alas, my friend, thou wearest thin
And ‘tis the time for you to quit.
Time now to cast thee in the bin.
Farewell, thou good and faithful oven mitt

5th May 2020
The Potholder poetry contest
Sponsor - Craig Cornish
Form: Rhyme

Mymagicianofthetemplars

The magician is my own bodily templar
Weep  not is i’’,me as if   it wert me I,cried.is,the mathers, 
A fornicated blessed oh how when me do is,so much, violet Firth, weep estrange one
Me is the kabalah, we me  i see Jeffries, oh how  me yet does be seek the,tarot
Be yes to loved me as did  i met  a.shawn,she,ask,whom dids’t he, how i wert tis
Shock me ohdear asdoes adragon isthe older shamrock. Dearishe i frater,me,meme  i  clear show
Frailties, todo else   is   the   leader'he  shew me  my own,grown  tau   me worshipful  pro,price
Averdition  odd me how be,i,were these   occult me, shew,memoderator,ship,tis,old,it,pale,hey,you.,be,i,bleak,it,istriangular,weep,not
Hell,hail,bestowed,myown,garbage,is,my,yankeedoodle
Aceremony,shell,i,weep,mebe,sold,must,e'magical'tools,
Esterick'me'oder'thegolden'dawn,weep'it'isnot'forcaster,weep'a'talent'myproctor'faceisit'yay'be'soldier
shewtisi''.belief'a'dream'tisi'meadirect'dracula,'hunt'itbe,shot,shock'bdrak'teachhypnosis
Form: Burlesque

Shakespearean Sonnet

The sun in splendid majesty departs
To drape his train across the evening sky,
Mere candlelight next to the vivid spark
Struck from one glance from thy once azure eyes.
Both man and nature music doth compose
On instrument of orchestra and trees,
But all of heavens hymns I might transpose
And never match was tender speech from thee.
Such beauteous things to worship and to love
Once lived about the temple of thy grace,
Thy body was the substance of my dreams
Where'er thou wert was made a lovely place

So once a garden in a garden stood
Til time and season stole its bright lifeblood..
Form: Sonnet

Sonnet 12

Not long I need to let mine heart to shrink
From thine earnest appeal wherein did sink
And firm beneath its heav’nly charm it live
With glorious joyance thence loth to upheave.

So gently thou this time me importune
That any keener soul of love must croon,
But see how alters brisk one’s erstwhile dearest
And heedeth not entreaties that thou makest.

Mayst thou complain I furnish this with art
Of garrulity to reproach, than thou wert,
Thee for thy ways capricious unto me,
As my sweet fury ne’er can I show thee.

Yet cautious I whisper to realms inmost,
Retrieve the passions though alone we boast.
Form: Sonnet

Love Amidst Darkness

I loved that day which blest its night 
With antediluvian might,
Of ours flourishing souls in joy
That some divine being must deploy.

It was a lithe nocturnal wood,
‘Midst whose darkening core there stood
A tiny cottage, ancient as the Moon.
Whence we then heard the leaves to croon.

Lagoon! a lustrous lagoon saw we!
Beside the trees, serried in glee,
And our small home– its lovely limit
Never saw this oneness split.

‘Twas morning then, but now the murk
Embraced two lovely hearts, and hark !
The crickets, ever hidden did hurl
Their doleful screech from many a knurl.

Above a couple at peace in a nest
Did murmur private words , as if lest
None could overhear their sound,
None could intrude their world from ‘round.

Then thou closer, closer wert, 
I dwelt, exulted, on thy sinless heart.
And our gay mutters were no louder
Than theirs who loved the voice of amour.

A luscious smile as thou didst pour
On night’s abundant beauty store,
Perhaps He lavished for lovers’ sake
Another world that we could make.

Fake! ‘Twas fake for it wouldn’t last,
As that unseen joy glided fast
Towards a sunny dullness again;
No mystic love there did we regain !
Form: Verse

A Billet Doux of a Man From 15th Century

1

O, e’er she cometh and calleth me from the barren wolds whereupon lieth the first palpitation of the laconic exchange of bashful glances; 

O, whensoe’er thy dulcet voice wafteth o’er the hummock, and thy throat trilleth for none but me, mine eccentric euphoria is celebrated by nature;

O, in the untrodden tryst wouldst thou palliate the passion of mine? I pray you, do love me, fair damsel, only because I really love thee.

2

Prithee, my ladie, my beautie, tell me wouldst thou fain love me? Knowest thou I am fain to gain thee, and hope I thou art so. Once hither thou camest and didst canoodle me, wert thou fearless and didst enrapture me. Thou , undaunted, snuggle’dst, kiss’dst , embrace’dst a swain. E’er thou wast fain to have me lain on the lovers’ crimson bed. And when dost thou bestow upon me the ancient ecstasy, and sleek is the cheek of my kingly belle, feel I relieved i’th’ glaring tryst, my sweet love !

My Love Meine Geliebte

meine geliebte
wie es throbes von oben

Meine geliebte 
weil ich liebe dich sehr

i do not care für Eitelkeit
nehmen Sie mich , meinen Wert

Sie entschlüsseln ,.. meine Liebe
Form: Rhyme

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