Wielder Poems | Examples

Sheath Your Querulous Pen

It's shadowed in darkness, growling like a hound
Creeping about, whispering as it slithers around
Begging for attention, for it desires to be found
Silence is loud when its echoes continually resound

Behold, it comes masked, disguised in these places
Preying on the gullible ones with innocent faces
Cajoling as a lover would to gain their good graces
Offering false humility with arms of frigid embraces

Silence cries out with a stench breath for adoration
Quietly seducing the naive with phrases of flirtation
Long ago, spawned to be the wielder of denigration
Contrived as a stealth mute, soused on pride's libation

Writes with ink splotches, dripped from a toxic tongue
Its poetry is deceiving, lyrics not meant to be sung
In darkness, it leaks toxins with the scent of dung
Disguised as a pacifist, but its bile words are flung

Silence, speak what you should be wanting to say
then fade back into the shadows where you often play
Your acrimony doesn't fool the many you did betray
Sheath your querulous pen, for it leads people astray

To Love, or Not to Love Perfected

“To love, or not to love?” that is the point,
the focus which men lose beyond disjoint.
To be a god among men, and unloved,
is woe: even wild beasts are not unmoved
by these fragmented, lone, unearthly souls,
for whom the scroll of history unrolls.
Man, being so much better than feral beasts,
should eschew (and end!) the vile, evil feasts
of his ire: then love these wide-browed seers, men
and women like the wielder of this pen.

Paranoia

In depth and breadth of shadows, it prowls around
always flowing, wafting on air, ne'er making a sound
It exists in dejection and rejection, and always found
in silence, too loud when its raucous echoes resound

No deafening roar of blaring thunder comes with fear
It's audible only in a mind, but muzzled to each ear
Manifested in visions, without guttural words to hear
The threat it poses in a reverie wears an implicit jeer

Solitude exhales a stale breath with eager anticipation
Quietly seducing our trust with mendacious flirtation
Spawned to be the covert wielder of our denigration
A stealth mute, besotted on doubt as a form of libation

"Take heed, people!" It screams at us without a tongue
In song the tune is hummed; the lyrics never to be sung
Anguish, leaking acid in which toxins are cleverly sprung
Disguised as a protagonist, paranoia's qualms are flung

It watches without eyes, trying to keep us in disarray
An ever lingering specter, hovering wherever we play
In reticent whispers, how deftly it schemes to betray
A taunting voice without curses, a message to convey

I Am

I can accept many things cordially
Old, new, history, science, philosophy
And at the same time, I can't accept many
Beliefs, disbelief, truths, false hypocrisy

I'm human by flesh and blood
I'm wielder of my own thought,
A conductor of a good and bad sort
Independence is my manners fort

I'm not a robot, dogma is not a fixed staple in me
So no feud is applicable in bringing peace globally


© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
10/05/2023

He Persuades Me Into Oblivion

He persuades me into oblivion
He feeds me sadistic scenarios that wears down my memories with rust to dust
He makes me dance while I feed him my insecurities
My overwhelming insecurities
I give in
He warms me and warns me from what did not happen but very well could
Bath me in acid and burn me to to bone
He does not sleep nor shall I
He excites me and steals my breath
Seduces me into the deep illogical insanity of oblivion
Deep into oblivion
He persuades me
Confirming my dread
How easily you could save me
You wielder of sleep
I digress further and plot my revenge
He smiles
Nods and continues
He is my guide to oblivion my mentor for lunacy
Deep into oblivion

Wielder of the Scythe

I wear a black cloak with hourglass in hand
Waiting for the last grain of sand to land
And once it does I will collect the soul
To lead it near the Chief of Heaven's goal.

I'm the last to see your human body
Before death arrives in your life's lobby;
I hold you as you take your final breath
Like long ago the two of us had met.

I'll walk with you so you won't be alone
You suffered more than enough on your own.
I'll guide you to a place you will be loved
Where time is eternal with God above.

When it's your time to die I'm the keeper-
I'll come for you my name is Grim Reaper.

Cuts

A wayward heart in the wild, 
Trying to wield the knife of hope. 
Hope for one thing; hope for one friend 
The only way to guard her heart 
The only way when others have failed
With each fail, adds a slice to her heart
Some are shallow; some are deep
But all are painful, on her soul
For a moment, things were right, things were won
But the tables turned as, 
The wielded became the wielder
The cuts on her soul became cuts on her flesh
Some are deep; some are shallow 
At first, the knife only tasted some tiny beads of blood
But as time grew, the knife soon feasted
As white flesh turns red
Crimson drops run down the blade 
Hope shatters into shards
Those shards embed into flesh
Joining the sliver with the white and red
A friend gained is a friend soon lost 
The hunter becomes the hunted

Beautiful Plantain

Knowing the knowledge of man is like testing the wielder man,
growing and gripping from grass that causes a liquor of liquid.
••••
To those who love plant,
will tell the benefit of the incubant everywhere in the farm,
having a rotating mind to wind up a standing fan.
••••
The sick will pick the dreak,
living the falling leaves to in astray in a mouldy train.
Having a believe in the shabby shrine.
••••
Creating the hole for the whole,
commanding the seal to steal,
jumping from horse to host.
Making a sign like a hobby human.

The Price of Valor

Agony is nigh ever-present in humanity. 
It is the nefarious antagonist that unabashedly lurks in the shadows;
And With detestable malice, it strikes with a hellish wrath. 

This abhorrent lash is the unintentional crafter of heroism.
It inadvertently forges a shield that encompasses willpower;
And from it, absolute fortitude inhabits its beholder.

To wield this hallowed bulwark, an adamantine resolve is vital.
For the wielder is bequeathed with the insignia of gallantry;
And with this newly reaped brand, one must also retain humility.

Inevitably, the herculean task of attaining leadership takes its toll.
It Will, unfortunately, weigh on the heart of its heritor incessantly;
Despite this, its proprietor must remain vigilant and compassionate.

O Sweet Poem

O Sweet poem 
Wielder of undisclosed tales
Conqueror of unyielding hearts
Comforter of inoperable minds
Consoler of inconsolable souls
Utterer of the most unutterable dictions,
You have kept secrets for poets
In the deepest corners of your heart
I implore you, 
Keep a secret for me!
 
With your soporific charm
 You have softened hearts of gallant men.
You have won beautiful maidens for Kings.
You have spoken for the mutest lovers
You have reconciled the irreconcilable
O Sweet poem
Keep one more secret for me.

With your powerful allure
You have heated the coldest of hearts
You have reached unattainable horizons
You have opened the tightest doors 
No secret is too sacred for you to keep
I pray keep a secret for me.

Good In Horseshoes

If you were to be beheaded in days gone by
The axe wielder, one hoped, was an experienced guy
Make it good, really good news
Close is good only in horseshoes
Blood loss would be draining and eventually you die

STRANGE!!!

The Iron Bride

Perspiring smith 
stares with pride
at his newly wrought
iron bride
the device of death
his means for bread

Hung on the wall
in its scabbard
lined with gold 
glittering hazard
beauty its name
fear its fame

Drawing blood
cutting veins
sharp and brutal
red with stains
wielder cheering
end nearing

Rotten red juice
dust and decay
sweating grips
death and dismay
end of a battle
her sisters rattle

Journey to home
long and dry
the iron bride
won't see the sky
a long night
till another fight

When Silence Is Too Loud

shadowed in darkness, sniffing as a hound
creeping about without releasing  a sound
begging to be noticed, wanting to be found
silence is too loud when its echoes resound

behold, it comes creeping  to known places
among those of us who wear innocent faces
cajoling in soft whispers to gain good graces
offering false humility and fridgid embraces

silence cries with stale breath for adoration
quietly seducing with phrases of flirtation
spawned to be the wielder of denigration
a stealth mute, soused on pride's libation

ink splotches fingered from hushed tongue
will never be songs aptly written to be sung
in silence it leaks acid and toxins are sprung
disguised as a friend but what lies it's flung

SPEAK the truth you have neglected to say
then return to shadows where you oft play
your silence has not fooled those you betray
sheath your vile dagger then be on your way

To George Gordon Byron

Oh, youth’s sweet vision, wielder of spring's charms
Whose power is the grandeur of your tongue
Embracer of love’s form, your gentle arms
Enwrap my pith with sacred words. Sweet song
Shall always spill from out your polished lips
And carry forth rich words like some stream’s ebb
Into a distant ocean, whose heart skips
With your unearthly music. In the web
Of your strong inspiration, many bards
Of many passéd years of time’s expanse
Have twined themselves to keep within their hearts
All of the passions of your utterance!
    Oh, were it not for your compassion, sweet
    The might of speech shall be left incomplete! 

© 2013 Gleb Zavlanov

Seeing You

Words unspoken lay between us.
An open gulf, yawning abyss.
You sit on the far side, as I remember the words that were.

Then she comes and speaks aloud.
She, wielder of permission to say that which I wish I could.
She, who bridges and crosses, alone.

She makes it easy to be around you.
Jealousy given form, suppressed thought breathed to life.
It’s easier to resent when I hear you laugh.

I sit and watch you together.
Allowed only to bask in reflected light,
but casting no light of my own.

It’s so easy to resent from a distance.
I don’t have to try, and I don’t have to risk anything.
And a distant vision of you is better than nothing at all.

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