For presenting invited guest poet's poems..

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Poems written by invited guests, some which are from my poetry forum.
Permission to post their work here is always requested and given , else the poem is not ever presented . I am a firm believer in the ownership rights of a poets work by the poet.
So far no poet asked has refused and thats a high mark to their integrity , talent and trust..
Presented today as the first poem in this thread a magnificent contest winning write by a poet I found there only just this fine morn.
This one is indeed a gem...
Hope you may enjoy this great poem as much as I did!
I have notified the author of this and given link to our forum. He may honor us here with a comment.



The Aurum River

A burning golden river.
A thousand ember dots.
Whose endless waking slivers,
Hide liquid molten knots

A contented purring timbre
Of viscous weary rock,
Caught in eyes of amber
And weeping molten locks

Its ingot rivlet ripples
Wafting whispers in the air.
Its quaking thunder trickles,
Build shaking sunder mares

Brushing one another,
Aurus tears they bleed
Darkened flesh they smother,
In dripping gilded creed

Burning golden river,
A weaving flame no more
Dusty charred banks quiver
Slaked in starlit gore.

Author- Avery Swarthout

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Fall's Bounty

To the apple and pear on the tree
and the pumpkin so far in the field
I will raise a tall mug of ale sweet
to the hungry folk; they give yield.

For the fruit of the vine the peach peeled
when the pie and the cake is all made
to Creator we kneel and appeal
with a smile for the gifts which he gave.

Now in unison hearts do rejoice
for each hour, for each day; He's a shield:
for the sun, and the stars, and the wind
in the wood, for all life so revealed.

As the birds in the sky wave fall bye;
we will dream of what winter conceals.

By Debbie Guzzi.

Note: Debbie is a published poet at my poetry site.
Her talent is startling obvious in this great piece..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

“The Rank Stench Of Those Bodies Haunts Me Still”
- Poem by Siegfried Sassoon


The rank stench of those bodies haunts me still
And I remember things I'd best forget.
For now we've marched to a green, trenchless land
Twelve miles from battering guns: along the grass
Brown lines of tents are hives for snoring men;
Wide, radiant water sways the floating sky
Below dark, shivering trees. And living-clean
Comes back with thoughts of home and hours of sleep.
To-night I smell the battle; miles away
Gun-thunder leaps and thuds along the ridge;
The spouting shells dig pits in fields of death,
And wounded men, are moaning in the woods.
If any friend be there whom I have loved,
God speed him safe to England with a gash.
It's sundown in the camp; some youngster laughs,
Lifting his mug and drinking health to all
Who come unscathed from that unpitying waste:
(Terror and ruin lurk behind his gaze.)
Another sits with tranquil, musing face,
Puffing bis pipe and dreaming of the girl
Whose last scrawled letter lies upon his knee.
The sunlight falls, low-ruddy from the west,
Upon their heads. Last week they might have died
And now they stretch their limbs in tired content.
One says 'The bloody Bosche has got the knock;
'And soon they'll crumple up and chuck their games.
'We've got the beggars on the run at last!'
Then I remembered someone that I'd seen
Dead in a squalid, miserable ditch,
Heedless of toiling feet that trod him down.
He was a Prussian with a decent face,
Young, fresh, and pleasant, so 1 dare to say.
No doubt he loathed the war and longed for peace,
And cursed our souls because we'd killed bis friends.
One night he yawned along a half-dug trench
Midnight; and then the British guns began
With heavy shrapnel bursting low, and 'hows'
Whistling to cut the wire with blinding din.
He didn't move; the digging still went on;
Men stooped and shoveled; someone gave a grunt,
And moaned and died with agony in the sludge.
Then the long hiss of shells lifted and stopped.
He stared into the gloom; a rocket curved,
And rifles rattled angrily on the left
Down by the wood, and there was noise of bombs.
Then the damned English loomed in scrambling haste
Out of the dark and struggled through the wire,
And there were shouts and curses; someone screamed
And men began to blunder down the trench
Without their rifles. It was time to go:
He grabbed his coat; stood up, gulping some bread;
Then clutched his head and fell.
I found him there
In the gray morning when the place was held.
His face was in the mud; one arm flung out
As when he crumpled up; his sturdy legs
Were bent beneath his trunk; heels to the skye.
Siegfried Sassoon
---------------------------------------------------------------

He was there, this is what he saw. --Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

I Remember When

I suppose I'm revealin' my age as I compose this little ditty,
But as I compare costs today with yesteryear I exclaim, "What a pity!"
Gas cost 30 cents per gallon and hamburger was 19 cents a pound,
And a buck would atone my sins when collection plates were passed around!

I remember when a haircut cost two-bits at Harry's Barbershop,
And a hotdog cost 15 cents and ya paid a nickel fer a Nehi pop.
A dollar twenty-five bought a lunch of meatloaf and mashed pertaters,
That included a slab of cherry pie and a side of salad with termaters!

It cost a quarter to see 'Gone With The Wind' at the movin' pitcher show,
And fer a tub of popcorn and a coke ya needn't spend a ton of dough!
Double scoop ice cream cones cost a dime and a nickel fer a candy bar.
I remember that a loaf of bread cost 12 cents and a nickel bought a fine cigar!

Ya could buy a suit of clothes and a pair of shoes fer twenty bucks er so,
And a dime would buy ya a couple of donuts to dunk in yer cuppa joe.
A postage stamp cost 3 cents and fer a nickel ya could guzzle a glass of beer,
And a college education cost about 300 smackaroos per academic year!

Fer about 4 bucks ya could treat yer date to a show and banana split,
And later steal a smooch which would cost ya not one whit!
Nowadays fer such necessaries ya must work yer fingers to the bone,
And to keep apace with inflation, find a friendly banker to seek a loan!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Poet friend from my poetry site gave permission to present his poem here.
He nails it and I am almost old enough to remember most of that. -------Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

by Viv Wigley And then I opened that door- for comp

(For Competition 'And then I opened THAT door', sponsor- John Lawless)

And then I opened that door


My relationship had broken down, when love ran out of gas
so down life's dark and lonely road I dragged my sorry ass.
Could have done with company on such a painful walk
my passenger I'd left behind, no-one to hear me talk
a light (could it be hope?) I'm sure I saw not far ahead
so I took the avenue called naive to see just where it led.
The house of Her, it's elegant facade, I really was impressed
not sure if I should ring the bell, being not ideally dressed
my cares were worn and dreams were torn, not sure if all that matters
holes right through my optimism and happiness in tatters
no harm in stopping by, I thought, so hey-ho, what the hell
just take the bullshit by the horns, go up and ring the bell.
No answer, but a sudden gust of wind opened the door
and I stepped in, whilst wondering had I been here before.
The corridor stretched out before me, doors to left and right
Not sure how many, since I was too young to see the light.
The first door was denied to me, and so were all it's kin
but since I was alone, I thought I'll just go kick it in.
The first room just enticed me with it's beauty, grace and form,
a fire of passion crackled in the grate that made me warm.
The next room was a cellar, Magnums full of ruby wine
full bodied and intoxicating, all this could be mine.
The third room swathed in velvet, silk and lace, so smooth and cool,
to not lie in such luxury would make a man a fool
excited and emboldened now from all I'd seen before
spoiled child rampaged from place to place
and then opened THAT door.
The blast took me right off my feet, I crashed into the ground
the house of Her shook violently upon the Banshee sound
full force, indignant anger, outright rage, fury unleashed
as only then I understood the nature of the beast.
My welcome suddenly outstayed, my fault, for had I known it
though I had been invited in, walked round as if I owned it
The room hissed in an icy tone as she laid bare my crime
that I would have been more welcome taking one room at a time
but men will open every door to fulfil all their needs
the key to each door is respect, no barrier to greed.
Tornado fire, the Vixen's ire ripped me into the yard
winded, no breath left in me, my ego landed hard.
Got up slowly, brushed myself down and rubbed my aching head
eagerness had bled right out and brashness torn to shreds.
Staggered back out through the gate and turned along the lane
raised my collar round my neck and headed home again.
You see, my relationship had broken down, when love ran out of gas
so down life's dark and lonely road I dragged my sorry ass.
A light......................

By Viv Wigley

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Friend and fellow poet , Viv Wigley , from my poetry site kindly granted my request to post this poem he recently entered in a contest there.
I found this gem this morn and added it to my favorite poem list there, next made the request to be allowed to present it here. He generously agreed.
A poet with a lot of talent...--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Below is the poem entitled The Billabong which was written
by poet Lindsay Laurie. Lindsay , my good friend has kindly given me permission to post here, ANY of his poems I may want to choose! And he has so very many that are exceptionally good. --Tyr


The Billabong

There’s an old river course with beginning and end,
now the river runs straight without this river bend,
where the water is still and the reeds do grow strong.
New life has taken over in a billabong.

The mat rush is spreading replacing the sedge,
and old fallen gum trees lean in from the edge
creating a haven in the shelter below
for smelt or gudgeon, and the common minnow.

There’s a ring on the water, so danger is nigh,
and life is now over for one caddis fly.
Dragonflies hover on their predator flight,
so mosquito and midges best keep out of sight.

There is many a song around a billabong
to break up the still with an assembly throng
from birds of the forest, and wading birds too,
so the billabong offer is there to pursue...

... for blue heron and egret, coot and the teal,
and for the banded rail that the bulrush conceal.
In the billabong shadowed by gum and ti-tree,
bellbirds are tinkling; wattlebirds disagree.

An oft-diving grebe keeps on searching for food
for the striped downy chicks of its latest brood,
and a hunting kingfisher waits keen for its prey
from a twig of a gum tree it frequents all day.

There is many a scent around a billabong,
filling the air with the perfume quite strong,
from black wattle and mint bush, or mistletoe
cascading from gum trees where only they grow.


Painted lady butterfly flit upon flowers,
and blue banded bees keep on working for hours
on lilies and orchids, heath, sweet appleberry
and clusters of flowers on a native cherry.

Ribbon weed, nardoo spread out in the shallow,
with buttercup, duckweed; an introduced mallow,
struggling for survival near the water line,
aiding coral pea that does lightly entwine.

The banks of a billabong are dangerous too
with predator snakes not so often in view,
but they are aware, that the growling grass frog
will climb from the water onto an old log.

But tigers and copperhead, red-bellied black
often lay in the sun on an overgrown track,
where the wombat or wallaby travel along
to graze on native grasses near the billabong.

So life still carries on around the billabong
where water looks stagnant, a bond is still strong
with a river now rushing it’s way to the sea,
past the billabong living, where the course used to be.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Quatrain

Below is the poem entitled Jeeeeez which was written by poet Andrea Dietrich.
Please feel free to comment on this poem.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jeeeeez
----- by Andrea Dietrich

In years gone by, folks didn’t like to say
God’s name to show surprise or great dismay,
and so you would hear “Goodness,“ “Gol” and “Gee,“
and also euphemisms for J.C.

Jiminy Cricket! Doesn’t that sound nice?
Jeepers Creepers, Jason Crisp or Cheese and Rice?
Godfrey Daniel! Surely you know that
is slang for God and “God rot it” is “Drat!”

“Oh my gosh,” “My goodness,” or simply “Lord”
replaced expletives that today come poured
from mouths of kids who can’t be mannerly
to just say “Leapin‘ Lizards“ or “Golly Gee!”.

You’ll hear (for damning something with God’s name),
“Dag nabbit” and “Dad gum.” They might seem tame
but fit the bill and give us a small thrill!
But dang it, why would someone say “Sam Hill?”

Words from the Holy Bible we enjoy
employing when we say Holy Moley,
Holy cow, Judas Priest (but WAIT!)
For Pete’s Sake! How did Judas ever rate?

Great Scott, there’s even Jumpin’ Jehosophat!
How the HECK did they ever come up with that?
By Jove, I’m nearly finished. Now pretty please. . . .
Instead of using Christ’s name, just say Jeeeeez!

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

I Know Without A Doubt



I know, I know, without a doubt
That God’s alive and well
You might ask me how I know
Then you, I’d have to tell
He’s in the breeze; he’s in the trees
He’s there. He’s everywhere
He’s in those rabbits on green lawn
My God, is always there

He made me, Me, the way I am
He gave to me, my senses
He makes me laugh; he makes me cry
And as new morn commences
He gives me need to pray to him
Yet not with words real shallow
He sees the joy within my heart
He feels the way I glow

He gives me faith in each new day
He makes me know, I’m one
With every single thing there is
He knows I am the sum
Of all there is, and ever was
He let’s me know “I’m life”
Because I know just who I am
He shelters me from strife

21 July 2015
------------- by Peter Duggan
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another poet friend's poem the second one presented today, whose talent is great as is my great friend Peter Duggan's recent poem.-Tyr

The Twilight Moor

Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.

Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.

Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass

Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws

Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.

Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.

BY Avery Swarthout, 5-27-2015

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Poet Who Never Was

I thought I was a poet who had a pen of gold
With clear access to writing that was mature and bold.
I thought I could go roaming beside the foaming sea
And watch the seagulls gliding to give a show for free.

I thought I was a poet who walked along the beach
In awe I stood and wondered, my hand stretched out to reach
The silver thread dividing the water from the sky
And traced Selena’s features as slowly she went by.

I thought I was a poet who knew what joy could be
On hearing water roaring cascading down with glee.
I looked for inspiration, experienced utmost thrill
When climbing down the valley or up the verdant hill.

I thought I was a poet in charge of heat and cold
But lost my true emotions when I was duped and told
I had to reach perfection to please my heart and mind
By means of imitation. My soul I left behind.

I thought I was a poet who had a pen of gold
But now all of a sudden I’m weary, frail and old.
I thought I was a poet. My pen is of no use.
With teary eyes I whisper to my dejected muse.


-------------------------------------------------------------
Author: Paul Callus
Contest: Million Dollar Poem
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placed 1st ~ 13th June 2015
Chosen Poem of the day ~ 8th May 2015

[Balu]

Robert!
Thank you for your being.
For ME you are like a key water source in a desert of our life!
I am NOT flattering. DO believe!

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Robert!
Thank you for your being.
For ME you are like a key water source in a desert of our life!
I am NOT flattering. DO believe!

Always nice to have somebody that reads and appreciates poetry my friend.
Poetry without any doubt is an art form. It can be as simple or as complex is is our existence.
It can climbs the heights of imagination, console the soul and gift in numerous ways to others..--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

From A Cafe Table

In this hour
they called it the French lace minutes
the sound of autumn leaves falling
unbearable to the ear
I slip out in the
echoing space
between now
and then
it's an insect like feeling
that buzzes around
too fast
to be recognized

then a coat slides to the ground
heels are clapping hands with wooden floor
ashtrays are laid to rest

and on a bus ticket my pen is scribbling
you are here
you are here
you are here


© Gry W Christensen

----------------------------------
Brewing Sunsets In Teapots

I brew sunsets in teapots
I drink the dawn from a mug
and in my bicycle basket I have seduction in a jug
so now and then I take someone clean shaven home to my obliging bed
when I guess I should sit quietly pristine,
with my legs crossed instead
but each day is so fragile
they black out every evening in the west
and all I got is these frail minutes
and I only want to live them, as if they were a fest.


© Gry W Christensen
--------------------------------
The Anchor

I once loved
an anchor
one of those
that sails
on skin
one of those
that has
a rowing heart
and pelting blood
within


One of those
who blows
mussel covered
kisses
one of those
that tells
mermaids salty lies
one of those
who'll
go down with
rum and shackles
the day he finally
dies.


© Gry W Christensen
-------------------------------------------
My friend, the German poet that
has vanished from my poetry site...--TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

I look around me and I see
--------------------------------------- BY Peter Duggan , Australia


I look around me and I see
So much lovely mystery
It fills my heart it fills my soul
I feel the power, and I feel whole
The birds, the trees, the lovely flowers
The sun that opens dawn’s sweet hour
I love it all, I always will
No one could ever know the way I feel

I walk in peace those wetland trails
I feel the wind, sometimes it howls
I hear those birds in yonder trees
I see those leaves dance on the breeze
I hear the ravens lonely call
I feel the rain as it gently falls
I see the lake shine with delight
I see the stars that fill the sky each night

I love this life, it’s beautiful
I love each day, I love it all
I feel such joy touching my soul
This loveliness, makes me feel whole
The power of life is strong in me
I’m part of all this mystery
I feel gods power everywhere
No matter where I look she’s always there

15 April 2013

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Written by my very good friend Peter Duggan from Perth , Australia . Who has also very kindly sent me two signed copies of his poetry books. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Poet's Invitation

Oh, visit me, though I've not looked for you
Show me you care; come share a word or two
Look for my name, in all the names you see
Come spend some time, be ray of sun to me
Visit Me

How will I know if you like what you read
I long to know that I fulfill a need
That what I write is solace for your soul
My little rhymes, a balm that makes you whole
Visit me

Come let communion wash away your fear
Let words of comfort dry away that tear
In blessed little rhymes, is sweet reprieve
and warmth and comfort in the lines I weave
Visit Me

Come visit me when others tear you down
Come visit me when in despair you drown
Come visit me when hope from heart has flown
Come visit me when pain is all you've know
Visit me

My words will be the kiss upon your cheek
The elixir of youth, when you are weak
My lines will be the bandage that will bind
I hope that what you seek, in me you'll find
Visit Me

Come and visit....ME....

Eileen Manassian

-------------------------------------------
A new poem by my good friend Eileen................

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

In Gory Red Haze, Brave Men Weep And Moan

Blast your trumpets, on blood soaked ground!
In that red haze, brave men weep and moan,
Yet, brutal war echoes pain in every sound.
Down lay spirits of mortal men forever gone
Days of youthful hopes turned to patches of dust,
dirt covered , forever residing all alone
fool's gold now turned to blackened rust.

Look ye, for a reason for fools to fight and die
sing out to duty , duty of warriors bold
remain aloft, blind to widows left to cry.
Price matters not, heroes destined to never grow old
War, testament to courage and man's great folly
sacrifice, death feeding tales retold
life goes on, this world is quite jolly

War, the engine driving men straight into hell
For breakfast and eggs, must first break the shell!

Robert J. Lindley, 05-07-2015
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Getting Lost In War

When a man has lost himself
In a great big ugly war
He’s bound to ask himself the question
What is all this for?
People dying all the time
For some crazy Ideal
He’ll know the craziness of man
And ask ‘Is this world real’?

Politicians tell him that
The enemy is evil
The other side they tell their guys
That they must also kill
Though all the soldiers want to do
Is to be home with their folk
Deep inside there hearts they know
Their leaders are a joke.

Their mighty leaders suffer none
They just call all the shot’s
While soldiers just get on with it
They know this is their lot
And so they die in misery
So their leaders might have power
Yet if those leader had to fight
Most surely they would cower

22 August 2015--Peter Duggan

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Another great poet has honored my request to present his poem here.
I thank my friend David for his permission to do so. So far, no poet has said no
to my request to present their work here! I am starting to think that for some
strange reason they all trust me!!!! ;)

GONE ON TO HEAVEN

I knew this day would come
Everyone of us will pass
So many distractions
We forget we won't last
One day at the table
The next an empty seat
Yesterday is a memory
Tomorrow death's drumbeat

So I lived in the moment
Celebrated the now
Saw each day as sacred
Created many "wows"
Chased great adventures
Invested in a cause
Found joy in the little things
And I loved just because!

Now I've gone on to Heaven
Met the King of Kings
This place is truly glorious
Wait till you see Angel's wings
But for now give a listen
Remember what I said
These are the days for living
So don't act like you're dead

Fly like a butterfly
Go ahead take a chance
Give more than expected
Taste sweet romance
Walk in the meadow
Take all the wonder in
Dance in the moonlight
Live free be born again!

Like me, please..
Live in the moment
Celebrate the now
See each day as sacred
Create many "wows"
Chase great adventures
Invest in a cause
Find joy in the little things
And love just because

If in life you've been hurt
I beg you let it go
Learn the art of forgiveness
To jealousy just say no
Don't major on minors
To prejudice don't give in
Give your heart to Jesus
Live free be born again

And you'll..
Live in the moment
Celebrate the now
See each day as sacred
Create many "wows"
Chase great adventures
Invest in a cause
Find joy in the little things
And love just because

8-29-15
Silent One's "Final Poem" Contest

Copyright © 2015 Three Penguins
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This great poem so struck me that I added it to my favorite poem list there only seconds after reading it!
I may check out and possibly write for that contest as I now have only one contest entry not judged as of yet. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Another great poem by my friend -Lyric man

BEHIND THE SMILE

Just another sinking tear
In this river full of pain
Racing fast to nowhere
A world that's gone insane
Hope committed suicide
Before I had the chance
Forced to live without you
Teased by fool's romance

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

Everyone has the answer
None of them are right
The blind lead the blind
Pretending to have sight
Love is such a cruel illusion
A distracting fool's delight
Left me poor and naked
Under a waterfall of night

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

Handcuffed by our society
Scorned to a water grave
Drowning in a sea of lonely
And too far gone to save

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

*One of my break up poems

3-22-15
Copyright © 2015 The LYRIC
-------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------
One of the best break up poems Ive ever read.. Ever element is superb and the flow is magnificent! -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Old Blue

I’ve been lost for days now, an’ all the country looks the same.
I’ve been walkin’ ‘round in circles, an’ found my footsteps once again.
Me ‘tucker’ bags been empty for, three days an’ there’s this ragin’ thirst.
I feel my tethers at its end. I can only fear the worst.

I must keep these tired legs strugglin’ on toward the mirage up ahead.
I pass the bones of sheep an’ roo’s, an’ quietly shudder at the dead.
There’s not a livin’ thing around, ‘cept ‘Old Blue’ at me feet,
he’s lookin’ more like mutton now, an’ good enough to eat.

I stumbled to a creek bed, where red gums offered shade,
with one of my last three matches, a little fire was made.
‘Old Blue’ looked bravely up at me, he knew there’s nought to eat.
And I’m sure my old dog realised, he was the only meat …

‘Old Blue’ laid beside the campfire, but was lookin’ pretty scant,
for he never had his coat on now. He couldn’t bark or pant.
I thanked him in a sobbin’ grace … cut slices off him with a knife.
A real mate was me old dog ‘Blue’. I know he saved me life.

‘Old Blue’ deserves a medal, for the dedication he has shown.
He’d know that I was upset now, ‘cause I hate eatin’ on me own.
Old memories came floodin’ back, now I’m full I feel so sad,
as I recall the good times, ‘Old Blue’ and I have had.

I stared into the glowin’ embers, an’ watched ‘em slowly die.
With what was goin’ through me head, a tear fell from me eye,
I sadly eyed the little pile that had built up on the stones …
Thinkin’ ‘Gee I wish that Blue was here … he would’a loved them bones’.

Copyright © 2015 Lindsay Laurie
---------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------

This fine poem, written by my Australian friend Lindsay Laurie, so struck
me this morn that I sent him a pm asking to be allowed to post it
here...
He graciously gave permission to do so.
A very talented poet and jolly good fellow..--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Wisconsin Autumn--By Robert A. Hall--United States

Wisconsin Autumn

When the moon is full of bluster
And the wind its bidding does,
Then the birling leaves will muster
For the dance that ever was.

Then you know the Iceman's coming
With a breath that chills the soul.
With the sun our faces shunning,
Bank your fires with Spring the goal.

Robert A. Hall, a Marine Vietnam Veteran, served 5 terms in the Massachusetts State Senate. He was an Association Executive from 1982 to 2013, retiring due to pulmonary fibrosis for a lung transplant 12/23/13. His 11 books, including two of poetry, Old Jarhead Poems and Share the Cup are here: http://tinyurl.com/n79esoh. Royalties go to charity. He does the Old Jarhead blog.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Guitarist's Night
----------------------------------------------by Keith O.J. Hunt

Fresh kiss....

bottle of wine

Made love til half-past nine,

mellow Hendrix, 'Little Wing'
'Hey Baby' ----

She moaned to it, sighing soft,

purred to it....

A beautiful old music carrying us away;

she was so French, crazy in love ----
romping the house with purple eyes
and little blue(s) pant*es,

I cooked for her dishes, hours

to please her wet-appetite,
insatiable...
always red lipstick thick,
pure white chics;
all Woman,
she was
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014
------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------
My friend Keith usually writes in a more classical old style form but here he modernized his verses quite a bit and presented a fine poem.
We are currently doing a collaboration. I will present it here when he writes the second part, as I sent my first half to him a few days ago.
I have no doubt that he will either match it equally or even exceed it in quality..-Tyr

-----------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Blossom Sonnet
----------------------------------------------------------by Keith O.J. Hunt

When the winter winds have stole

their shivered breath,

And warmer now, snow is shed,

what lovely can bring when it sings;

(From mountains deep to waken sleep)

And gather the birds to their blossomed boughs,

singing their elated woody sounds,

(gently loitering in elder trees)

speckled chirps in forest green

Neath budding Sylvan mistletoe

the earth is born-again,

ages old

returns this ditty of long ago

(til rejoicing in leafy worlds)

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014

^^^^ This is more his usual style..... --Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

I am not usually a big fan of the "free verse poetry form" but this one by this very fine poetess is truly exceptional work IMHO.
I HOPE THE READER WILL GREATLY ENJOY IT...-Tyr

The Generous Bard

(The Merry Adventures of Robin Good)

Sherwood's Forest legendary, leading man
up, down, tricking eggs between branches
slender, slander, his voice is growing thinner
twisting, turning heads 50 shades of green

Master of disguise reaching for the top archers spot,
A bard, with uncanny precision, ROBIN nonstop
Splitting his opponent LIKE A BOSS!
Aiming arrows, where broken women sit
Creating fantasies, for his band of hypocrites
A serenade, of jealousy and mayhem
A poetic outlaw, generously taking what others earn
Wearing black tights, the hottest profile, sipping wine
A lust beyond Dorthy's Rainbow, a venomous poem
Somewhere, covered in leprechaun's gold
His chest is cold
- Yet warm from all the hands caressing this bard,
He is the best, gravity has no weight on his pen,
A soundless soldier having his way with his sword,
Executing those who challenge him,
Breathing life into many empty accounts
Giving voices and self-encouragement
With no time to drop down this bard from cloud nine
A dissipation of air fresheners and hello's
Painting pain just to pretend it hurts the person
A fragile voice whispering in the shadows

Slithering Secrets;
From this hooded bard who carries no face,
A mask of lies, taking what belongs to others.
Robin of honor, graveled by his peasants
MISUNDERSTOOD in every fashion, yet he preys
Pipping dreams away, down an infested rat's path
Shoving Little Johns hopes down the list

Robin is no common criminal, just a bard
Wearing a dark cloak, when in disguise
taking from the greedy --- giving to the needy

Thank you for enjoying my story
Robin Good and his network of Merry Men

2-3-16
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Old Death
----------------------------by Keith O.J. Hunt

Old death,

companion-less, but for a scythe
and Old Man Time;

You have vanquished both the weak,

and the mighty,

But for the great man upon the cross,

his wings were too swift for thy vast cemetery,
and his crown rests on every head
in your tombstone sea,
he's the only one who escaped thee:

Old death,

companion-less, but for a scythe
and Old Man Time:
the heavens you cannot roam....
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014
---------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------
I just found this gem by my friend Keith.
Impressed me so much that I decided to present the poem here for others to read
and enjoy. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

My Son

You struggled Screaming
Fighting that creature
Sleep But I managed to rock you
Off into calm and bliss
And peace And as I wrote Looking over
Every once and again
To see you embraced Enveloped in dream
You woke and looked at me.
"Hush." I whispered. "Daddy is right here... Beside you."
You smiled acknowledgement Falling back
Into that place I am not allowed
And I cried Not full of envy
But satiated in unconditional
Love Love for all that
Light and hope you fill
My humble chest with
I cried because before you smiled
Before you fell Back to sleep
I felt the glory it is
To be a parent...
Copyright © Joseph Granda-Padron | Year Posted 2016


An exceptional and clear message very eloquently delivered! I too, have felt that same feeling many, many times...A7 I am adding this gem to my favorite poems list now.. Thanks, Robert

^^^^^ Presenting this fine poem and my comment made to its author after reading it tonight.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Gift from God - A Sonnet--By Elaine George--Canada


A Gift from God - A Sonnet

I am a wish, a prayer from mortal’s lips
That reached heaven and touched God’s fingertips
And returned to earth wrapped in flesh and blood
A gift from God’s unconditional love

So love and cherish me as God does you
And guide and teach me well in all I do
And through the years a garden we will grow
Filled with the fragrant beauty of the rose

And on the day I reach maturity
And feel the need like leaves to leave the tree
To show the world the colors that are me
Rejoice in all the beauty that you see

For I am your child the gift that God gave
No More than a wish and a prayer - away.

-----------------------------------
-----------------------------------
Brief Bio--

Born in New Brunswick, Elaine George spent the early years of her life living in Lorneville (a small fishing village along the Bay of Funday) still inhabited by many of her family members. Much of her writing is inspired by the memories of that place and those wonderful people. She has published two volumes of poetry and is currently writing a novel entitled Out of the Darkness. Many of her poems and short stories have appeared in magazines in both Canada and the United States. Currently she lives with her husband in Wainfleet, Ontario.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Fearing the Vision


I felt our trouble brewing like a raging wind
and I, helpless to escape its stinging wrath.
In long dark corridors where he had sinned
I watched him crawling down an arcane path.

His murmurous mumblings I could not hear,
though echoed in a gravelly sonorous voice.
I knew instinctively there was much to fear.
In the surreal moment I had to make a choice.

When he woke on that cloudy thundering morn
I broached the problem that he could not defend.
His gorgeous green eyes were infused with scorn
and I cried knowing we'd reached the bitter end.
~ ~ ~
I heard he keeps pretending everything is just fine
but I know his life is still ruled by the raging winds.
His dazzling smile is a façade that does not shine
when he looks in a mirror, for he sees his own sins.

If my dream had not become so frightening and vivid
my vision may not have found a way to make me see
the Mr. Hyde he becomes when his temper turns livid.
His next innocent victim could have possibly been me.


__________________________________________
4/24/16 MR's More Than the Eye can See Contest


Copyright © 2016 Lin Lane

A recent poem by a very good poet friend of mine.
One of those true and kind souls that wears no false mask.
A rare and beautiful gem.....-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Leaves of the Dead

Les feuilles mortes

They fall like dead soldiers
Dreams knifed in the dead of night
It is as yesterday
Once more
Where love was kissing my cheek
Where hopes had dreams
One could see the blossom of loves desires

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates


Ah now I am holding a cane
I have all but forgotten yesterday
I have no lovers
My friends have all but gone
To their designated places in the ground
Piano keys in soft lit lounges
I remember the vodka stingers and sultry singers
Telling me life was jolie oh so jolie
If only there was love…

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates

At 3am, with burnt cigarette butts
If only there was love
When the metro finds it’s unwitting end
Reality and cubes make ugly paintings
There are only drunks
Dreamers and bums
Thief’s picking pockets of your final instructions

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates

If you can sober up and face the poverty
Of your empty aspirations of hope
Come to the bois de Vincennes
Where Kings and Queens danced and dined
What better place
To splay the butter
So that the knife slides smooth
Whilst the sun fades kissing the seine
Autumn leaves will fall
Dead again

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

This from my very good friend Arthur...-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Soldiers Oath


Soldier on my brave friend
one loyalty to bear
it is to this we owe our stock
and for fortune duly share

When dark hours invade our hearts
with no plan for our escape
we will tighten ranks and challenge fear
for the future is ours to shape

Together if we face the brink
of never turning back
may all see one set of prints
left showing from our tracks

To that end what will has forged
we'll finish you and I
together as one to see it through
such loyalty never dies.


04/20/2016

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Lament For My Uncle, As His Day Approaches

Steel resolution, made a thousand times
To reach across black rift between closed hearts
Carefully constructed, a thousand lines
Rose incantation, enchanted restart

Dim hourglass of the blind excuse dancer
Clings desperately to its final grains
Dark wolf’s mouth slavers, he smells your cancer
Speak now, or forever we keep these pains

Knock on your door, thunderous echoes fade
Younger guilt and fear restrain me no more
Resolve not weakened, steady hand not stayed
Blade drains poison, flowing blood you ignore

One thing stands clear at your onrushing end:
It takes just one to break, but two to mend.

4/26/16

© Thomas W. Quigley

Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

This is an example of Tom's magnificent poetry talent.
I read the poem and immediately added this gem to my favorite poem's list!
Contacted Tom and he kindly gave his permission for me to present his creation here..
Struck me deeply, as I too once had a huge rift between myself and my mother.
One that lasted for 21 years, until I finally saw the pain in my heart was false and
I made amends to her...-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

THRESHOLDS: Collaborative Double Sonnets

"THRESHOLDS"
By Robert J. Lindley & Edlynn Nau

I. Plow Your Fields, With Love Of Nature In Mind

In darkness seek light, in pain seek relief
when weak seek might, strength lies in true belief.
When harvesting crops, thank the fertile ground
if you are faithful, let your trumpet sound.

Plow your fields, with love of Nature in mind
with love embrace all, forever be kind.
Cut deeply fertile soil, look for hope there
reject easy life, therein lies a snare.

Wisdom comes, to he that prays and then waits
bad the counsels, to tempt the darkest Fates.
Birds gaily feast on worms deep plows bring forth
coldest are winds blasting us from the North.

River never sleeps in its winding bed
Greedy men, choosing not to give instead.

Robert J. Lindley, 5-02-2016
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

II. THE GIFT

When first light is born as a precious gift,
and within nature, reminds us how near.
To this: Earth, beast, man, and all life we lift,
because any day above ground is dear.

Winter comes and life seems to disappear,
there's no hope in green or bloom to the vine.
Spring enters in joy wrapped boxes of cheer,
bringing her favors, though fragile and fine.

Courage is gift to the sad and declined,
celebration and dance, to the budding.
Certain is the hope for those who have climbed,
from the purge of the fire and flooding.

Then, each one decides to take or to give,
the ultimate gift, is give and forgive.

By Edlynn Nau
May, 03, 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Trust, mistrust

New friendships form and spawn a playful child
fingers of innocence explore the bond
each passing day it grows, entranced, beguiled
wide-eyed it sees the now but not beyond.
To freely give, thinking only the best,
be generous in mind and heart and soul,
welcomes with open arms and bares it's breast
ignores the foibles and accepts the whole.
Out of the blue Janus now turns his face
and tramples on the love that trust had bought,
no mercy shown, no shame and no disgrace,
all that had gone before has come to nought.

Friends come and go, so treat them all the same
else by the rules they set you play the game.


1st March 2016

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016
----------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------
Another truly awesome poet from my poetry site..
THIS MAN CAN DO IT ALL IN POETRY AND I PREDICT ONE DAY
WILL BE A VERY WELL KNOWN POET..-TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Message from a tree

Just watch the beauty of a tree
She stands alone so wise, and free
Bathing within the morning sun
A message from the holy one

She’s a symbol of the stillness
Magnificent she’s nothing less
So golden from the suns bright rays
I sit and watch her in a haze

This tree, she dances on the breeze
I love to ponder on these trees
Who’s branches reach up to the skies
Her roots reach down, her branches rise

When roots reach down; branches grow high
This we must learn before we die

18 May 2016

Copyright © peter duggan | Year Posted 2016

--------------------------------------------
Sonnet Written by my very good Australian friend--Peter Duggan... --Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

LET ME BELONG

I walk with the crowd, all alone,
I look at the strained faces of strangers,
the dead emptiness of their eyes,
the weariness of their broken smiles
searching for hope of tomorrow…
I follow…I follow

I have no family, I have no country,
I have no past, I have no present,
only the emptiness of my heart’s memories
of a land, once my home, now ravished by war.
With images of my past left behind…
I cry…I cry

I follow the crowd to promises of lies,
In the passing forms I see silhouettes of pain,
hear the cries of despair, shouts of anger,
I feel the tears of nothingness.
With words of silent prayers of hope…
I pray…I pray

What is my sin to deserve a lesser life,
when all I want is freedom to exist.
What is our sin to be turned away,
when all we want is a place to rest.
What is my sin when all I want…
is to belong…to belong.

May 5th, 2016
T.J Grén

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016
-----------------------------------------------------------

From my good friend and previous collaboration partner Teppo.--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Passage of life

Consequent to this passage they call life,
I became a pilgrim searching for a guide.
Each haven was a short sojourn, as fate
brought me teachers, but not all the answers.

Until I met a woman who revealed darkness,
I looked to the moon and learnt about light.
I realised my eyes had deceived me,
when I stumbled upon a man who could not see.
A girl who could not hear, touched my soul,
and in essence gifted me the art of listening.
When I heard fools engage in absurd talk,
my tongue became silent,
unless it was deemed necessary to speak.

I learnt the power of the smallest gesture,
when I saw a smile on sad child's face.
As I walked among those with tears in their eyes,
I learnt the power of a positive mind,
for tears would only hamper my quest.
In sadness, I realised that only happiness,
would help to escape such a demise,
forever, I wore a smile and learnt the power of laughter.
In essence, I learnt to become strong,
from the burdens upon my shoulders.

I realised the importance of love,
when I saw hatred in the eyes of a lost soul.
I learnt the power of compassion,
when I saw a boy dying from hunger.
I understood the value of truth,
when I became surrounded by lies.
In defeat, I learnt humbleness,
in victory, I learnt nothing.

I learnt about courage,
when I saw a coward hiding.
I learnt many a lesson,
through messages during adversity.
But..
I finally understood life,
when I saw those dying...

SilentOne, July 8, 2016
"Simple musing"

----------------------------------
----------------------------------

Very glad to have been given permission by my friend SilentOne to post his new poem here.
Without doubt, he is a poet's poet... and a great friend..
This is a free verse gem.....--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Presenting two guest poets and their recent superb poems..-Tyr


Form: Villanelle |


Listen To Night's Music Play - For Becca

In my arms listen to night’s music play,
As we lie by a stream of love’s delight,
We wish the velvet dark night it could stay.

Now send all the cares of the day away,
Together we lie in silver moonlight,
In my arms listen to night’s music play.

Now in our peace our love we do display,
As our passions do come forth shining bright,
We wish the velvet dark night it could stay.

I hold you close and our love flows gently,
Your lips meet mine in the kiss of the night,
In my arms listen to night’s music play.

Your eyes they do shine with love perfectly,
I drown in the depths of their love tonight,
We wish the velvet dark night it could stay.

Come join me tonight in love’s sweet embrace,
In my arms listen to night’s music play,
Ever be with me with angelic grace,
We wish the velvet dark night it could stay.

(Shine On In Dream Series.)

Copyright © Vladislav Raven | Year Posted 2016

--------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------

Exceptional Villanelle IMHO.
This poetry form I have never written in that I can recall.
Certainly restrictive in its requirements, perhaps that is why..
Yet Mike wrote a truly great piece...... -Tyr


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Form: Quintain (English) |


She Wept In Languished Moan

She wept as they buried her one true love.
Each day thereafter she brought him a rose,
the flower she knew he was fondest of.
Her grief unbearable, beyond repose.
What pain and suffering his death bestows.

Nothing prevented her daily visit.
She didn't want him to feel all alone.
When beside him her face was exquisite.
When weary she would sigh and then lay prone,
weeping for her love in soft languished moan.


23rd of July 2016
Two Stanzas - Two Only Contest-Broken Wings
This is an English Quintain, 10 syllables per line
with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-b

Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016


My good friend, Lin Lane never fails to present exceptional poetry!
Great talent, great personality and a very generous lady...-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Sands of Time


At first, a lazily flowing river
Timeless warm glow of a summer’s day
In love with the world’s vibrancy
Inaudible, clock ticking
Safe in seeming endlessness
Each day a lifetime
Some wished away
Years accrue
Time’s grains
Fall
Flow
Faster
Sweet life full
Moments precious
A n t i c i p a t e d
milestones fly past, too fast
Children’s years wax eternal
While ours accelerate quickly
Scenery outside the train’s window
Ever more beautiful, yet blurring, faster

7/13/16
© Thomas W. Quigley


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

-----------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------

Beautiful poetry by my friend Tom Quigley!
Great talent and very kind heart....----------Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

1986


When we first met, there was no stopping us,
no matter was the time, or where the space,
fulfilling urges, minimum of fuss
we always seemed to find suitable place.
Shop doorways, or the golf course (eighteenth hole)
the walk home late at night ended in lust,
to end the night in passion was our goal
to take a risk fulfilling it, we must.
You turn and take the duvet to your side
I fight to gain possession of some heat
your comfort, though, you will not be denied
upon my back you warm your frozen feet.
The years have changed quite how we play the game
but then again I love you just the same

Viv Wigley


For contest 'which of the four would you choose', sponsor Sara Kendrick
20th August 2016

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016

------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------

My good friend, writes great poetry and adds in a bit of humor as doing so!!!
I admire this poet very much.....

"upon my back you warm your frozen feet."

Yes, was my experience, the hotter the sexy lady, the colder the feet lain upon one's back in the wee morning hours after a night of deep passionate embrace.. Youthful vigor, and wild ways.....

I may yet decide to write for that contest..... --Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

NULLARBOR

As darkness falls above the eastern skies,
with dawning shadows ending heartache’s woes.
Along the path wherein my future lies
behind the setting sun a light yet glows.
The barren earth divides a vast expanse
as shadows cast by dawn are left behind.
The glow of light in contrast to enhance
the darkness of my perished love unkind.
The sun sets over deserts reddish hues,
beyond the treeless plain in hope I prance
with new direction my belief renews.
To west i head without a backward glance.

What lays ahead beyond the Nullarbor,
a dream of good to feel alive once more.


23rd August, 2016
T.J Gren

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016


For those who are not familiar with the Australian outback, the Nullarbor Plain is a stretch of semi-arid land between the Great Victoria Desert and the Great Australian Bight. It’s an almost treeless plain of over a thousand kilometers between the states of South Australia and Western Australia. I had the pleasure of crossing the Nullarbor (on my own) back in October 1981 driving across to Perth in Western Australia to seek a new direction for my life. I stayed overnight at the Nullarbor Roadhouse watching the beautiful, red sunset over the dry treeless desert.

Another attempt at using Iambic Pentameter - feedback welcome.

ANOTHER SUPERB SONNET BY MY GOOD FRIEND TEPPO.--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

NATURE’S WONDERFUL GARDEN

Nature’s wonderful garden in display
display of autumn colours in array
array of beauty to share in delight
delight of birds in a picturesque sight.
Sight of swans as they fly above the ground
ground that is covered by leafs as if gowned
gowned by a blanket of colourful hue
hue of earth moistened by a misty dew.
Dew that reflects sunlights shimmering light
light that wakes up into a morning bright
Bright is the dawn as a new day ascends
ascends to where the earth and heaven blends.
Nature and seasons in a divine bliss
bliss of life and beauty to reminisce.

T.J Grén

March 2016
My first attempt at writing a chained sonnet.

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016

My good friend Teppo, such great talent!!!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

I SIT SOBBING

I’m staring at the reflection in the mirror -
who is the lady with the grey hair?

Today a strange man came to visit me
I do not recognize him …
He says he is my son

I try hard to remember as we talk about the past
He shows me photographs of his childhood years
Memories come back to me; I sob bleeding tears
Dementia is robbing me, my recall is fading fast

That man has now gone
Saying he will visit soon
Tears flow from my eyes
Trapped in my own little world
I sit sobbing silently


Challenge- one write Contest Sponsored by Broken Wings
08~31~16

Kimo and Tanka checked with how many syllables

Copyright © 2016 JAN ALLISON


---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

Our Spring Is Here varied 811 meter refrain

Varied 8/11 Meter Refrain

Our Spring Is Here

Our Spring is here in two days, time
So me I welcome it, with this brand new rhyme
When birds they sing, such joy they’ll bring
As the longer days give life to everything

All the flowers will start to bloom
The winter will fade away with all its gloom
I’ll worship each new day that’s here
With the lovely sky so blue, and very clear

The swallows will arrive here soon
As all the lovely birds, they sing out in tune
No time to rest, birds build their nests
Spring, it is the time that I am happiest

Our spring is here in two days time
Joy within me starts to chime
I wait for seeds to bloom and grow
Making sure my garden will have sweet show

When birds they sing, such joy they’ll bring
I’ll worship each new day that’s here
No time to rest, birds build their nests
I wait for seeds to bloom and grow

30 August 2016
Varied 8/11 Meter Refrain created by Christina R Jussaume on 05 31 16.
5 Quatrains in 8 11 meter throughout
Our spring is Here
Rhyme is Aabb ccdd eeff Aagg Refrain
Stanza 4 line 1 is line 1 first stanza refrain line.
Last stanza becomes line 3 of previous stanzas. These are the refrain lines
Subject optional. Center Align.
Line 3 stanza one has internal rhyme
Line 3 stanza three has internal rhyme

Copyright © 2016 peter duggan

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The editing of me

My words were rewritten until they became yours
As grammar and syntax perfected your thoughts
Pages lined with highlighters polished me to extinction

I wanted to resist all of those good intentions
Yet I knew you wanted your best words for me
You weren't listening so you couldn't hear what I was asking for
Poor boy me I lacked the courage to say it loud enough
I felt my voice become tiny as my heart disappeared

Sure my words were somewhat awkward
Still I had things to express that way
My rhythm was imbedded in the word play
You crumbled my granite and turned it into clay
It happened slowly a bit day by day

I was there hidden in the disconnected details
Crystal blue eyed observations to share
Becoming myself on the verge of aware
You could have found me there
My words weren't lacking weight or substance
Like a series of road signs I pointed in a certain direction
I wasn't looking for polished perfection
What I desired most was emotional connection!

The trip must have seemed hard
You couldn't see past the curves in my road
It was to difficult to decipher my emotional code
So instead you bulldozed through my mind
with a big truck weighted with your own heavy load

If only you could have lingered and waited
Maybe you could have been sated
My words were interplayed and related
The strength of your ego I had not anticipated
In your wake I was left dejected and frustrated

There had been points of interest along the way
sprinkled star dust amidst the Milky Way
Beneath were gardens in which you could have come to play
There was no rush, I wanted you to stay
Until my liquid thoughts were morphed into hay

There before you
I had erected statues of delight
adorned in billowing fabric made of light
Perhaps you were blinded by my bright
unexpected in the middle of the night

You could have occupied my pleasure
Below my surface a spring fed treasure
A gift for you beyond measure
You could have witnessed the essence of me
Even though you came so close
you just couldn't see...

Richard Lamoureux


This is an old one that I have significantly reworked.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016

---------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------
This one is by a poet friend of mine that is loaded with talent!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Ray Of Sunlight

We had a ray of sunlight
On a crisp and cloudy day
It looked like a sparkling diamond
In those clouds so deep and grey
It was a welcome pause
During days of winter showers
When one was scared to blink
In case they miss those daylight hours

A lovely day of sunshine
Was nice to see once again
It left behind the weariness
Of all that goddamned rain
It became a nice reminder
That spring is on its way
Oh, how it cheers my heart so much
To see blue sky, not grey

We had a ray of sunlight
But now that ray has gone
As evening sky is all afire
As a deep red sky comes on
This is natures parting light
That my glad eyes can see
That the beauty of some heaven
Is waiting there for me

Vera Duggan

Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2016
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

This piece is from my good friend and fellow poet Peter Duggan's wife, Vera.
Great talent in the entire family as Mother, father ad daughter all write poetry!
I've added this one to my fav list and it inspires in many ways!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

SONNET –

SEASONS GRACE

The hem of nature floats as seasons blend
with winter’s lasting days now lost and spent,
as endless summer frozen shadows mend
without the youthful feelings of lament.
In distant land where future dreams ascend
beneath the southern sky of golden light,
by heaven‘s gift a love of life transcends
on landscapes tranquil beauty’s kind delight.
As graceful night unfolds its cast on day
with morning dew of many coloured hues,
and sunrise magic cuddles shoreline's bay,
the warmth of life another love renews.

With fervor I adore the seasons grace,
as nature's peaceful fairness I embrace.


T.J Grén
18th June, 2016

Another fine poem from my good friend Teppo..
He excels in every poetry form that he tries but none more so than in his writing sonnets IMHO.--TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Beyond Her Reach

Immersed in poignant thoughts she stands
where water slides upon the beach.
She yearns for him, although she knows
that he is far beyond her reach.

She calls his name, but all in vain;
her voice drifts slowly out to sea.
It trails along the silver path
to depths wherein his soul rests free.

She often comes to the same spot
to keep alive within her heart
the cherished dreams which once they shared,
a past from which she can’t depart.

The air turns cold. She draws her shawl
around her arms and shoulders bare.
The breeze reminds her of his hands
when they caressed, ran through her hair.

It’s getting late and with a sigh
reluctantly she turns away
just as a lonely silhouette
emerges from the moonlit bay.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Title: 3 words 1st stanza~line 4
Contest: Five Rhyming Stanzas
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placed 1st
© 26th August 2016

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2016

-------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------

A FANTASTIC POEM BY MY GOOD FRIEND AND FELLOW POET PAUL CALLUS WHO HAILS FROM MALTA.

I have read many of his poems-- none have ever disappointed me!
Each one inspired me to improve my own poetry and stay on message--truth and giving to others..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Bleed for me


Why?
Why what she says?
Why do you cut, why do you bleed yourself?
Why do birds fly, how the heck should I know?
Ah but you are so beautiful, soft and sweet
You see only as you wish, no one looks closer
At the inside of me
No one sees the mirror I see
Tiss not true, I see through your eyes
Come then take a good look, stare into my emptiness
You see nothing ok?

I remain quiet, somewhat stunned at the rebuke
We both stare out the window, a broken neon sign
Singing with the wind

She whispers
If I cut myself, to pieces
I will slowly disappear and float away
Inside will be outside
The emptiness in my eyes will be everywhere
The Ferris-Wheel ride will end

I slowly gathered up some rather random thoughts
My life was sunny
Then one day it rained
Then sunny
Rain and sun, rain and sun
Then the rain came again
And again…
Dark clouds hovered
The days all became nights
Until there was daylight no more
A ghost taunted… I no longer mattered
Until I became the ghost
So you see, I have nothing left to cut

She shyly looked over at me, confused it seemed
You, you… you have money
You look handsome
I dare say you seem well off
You have it all, and want for nothing



The neon sign, the crickets, the bedside clock
A symphony of sound in a room of silence, tick tock. Tick tock.
Slowly, I discovered words, softly I dared repeat them


You said I see nothing
In this, is true, I did look into your eyes, I saw
Inside of you nothing as you say
Emptiness
I saw a poverty of wanton desire, lost to this world
In this you are also wrong
For as I stared you refused to avert my curiosity
Our eyes locked
The emptiness inside of you
You see
Is me

Time continued its journey
Tick Tock went the clock
Silence crept towards a comfort

Imperceptible, a few of their fingers interlaced
Touching

The neon sign stop flickering
And cried

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

This true gem is from the fantastically creative pen of my good friend Arthur Vaso...
VERSES THAT SO CLEARLY SHOW THE GREAT DEPTH OF THE SOUL OF A TRUE AND IMMENSELY TALENTED POET..
I CAN AND DO ADMIRE NOT ONLY HIS FINE TALENT BUT ALSO HIS HONORABLE CHARACTER AND KINDNESS. -TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Day She Disappeared

A collaboration between Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire

Where were you when she disappeared?
Is the moment caught in your mind?
Were you nervous as the day neared,
or to its approach were you blind?

She took the lonely winding road
towards the hills in purple haze.
The weary sun took one last look
then cast away its fading rays.

Were you watching the sun go down?
Did you grasp the consequences?
Did you see sunset's halo crown;
did waning light stir your senses?

She walked ahead; not once looked back
nor did she pause or hesitate.
As shadows fell to twilight’s touch
she came at last to heaven’s gate.

Did you imagine her entry
to God's heavenly, lasting life?
Could you see the guarding sentry
as the joy in heaven was rife?

She left behind no next of kin,
no faithful fans or floodlit stage.
The only ones who mourned for her
were a few friends of ripened age.

If no one recalls her passage,
does that mean she did not exist?
When the reaper sends his carriage,
do our thoughts of loved ones desist?

More autumns came and winters too
remaining leaves withered and fell
since her soul rose into the blue.
Is there no more story to tell?




I thank Paul for joining me in this collaboration and apologize for taking so long to post it. As some of you know, my house flooded and I've been dealing with health issues as well.

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2016

Brilliantly creative and imaginative piece by two friends of mine.
Both poets are very talented in multiple poetry forms.. --Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

By Clannach Falls - For Jan

By Clannach falls together we shall share our dream
The water crashes down from on high so supreme
As we do lie on emerald green before Clannach pool
Leaving behind some of the love we share the clannach rule

The journey taken to the falls through valley long
By the side of Clannach river ever moving strong
Fed by the Clannach pool hidden away
Where we shall both find ourselves this sunny day

On our right the Clannach woods they do reach high
A song of woodland praise they sing up to the sky
Together hand in hand we do walk along
Our hearts they are singing love’s own song

We hear the crashing of waters fall from Clannach heights
Now we look forward to our love’s sights
The Clannach Falls hold beauty at their core
Love shall come when with the one you adore

Now we reach the bend and we do see
Crystal clear waters that shall ever be
They fall from mighty heights high above
Their roar shall be our song as we release our love

Hand in hand we run to the pool
Your hand now within the water clear and cool
Now our dream moves on at love’s own pace
I now caress your oh so beautiful face

We now do hear a lone eagle cry
As it soars in the rich azure sky
The Clannach moves our passion’s love along
Love is ours when far away from life’s throng

Our dream shall go on through the night
Our love forever shall be a brilliant light
Dreams can be so soft and alluring
When love does flow through dreams enduring

(Dreams Of Tomorrow Series.)

Copyright © Vladislav Raven | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Let My Quill Always Write Even If Unheard

A very wise woman once said I must write just for me,
let there be no other reason for e x p r e s s i n g my soul-
For I’ve l o n g e d for this passion to continue for eternity,
and at my worst is when my journal seems to be full.

LET my pen proclaim my adoration for only my heart,
let my verses s c r e a m my insight for only my eyes to see-
If there are souls who would like to t e a r my words apart,
then I shall sit back and let it go very calm and quietly.

No other can determine MY worth as a poetess,
I am who I am and happen to appreciate my benediction-
Tonight I will s o f t l y lay in bed and sincerely digress
on the meaning of what my QUILL releases without restriction.

I may not be famous or hold a popular moment in the light,
I may not be the best at every l i t t l e thing that I do-
I can sure be stubborn and I’ll admit, not always right,
but s e r v i n g my internal purpose I shall ALWAYS continue.

My pen loves to rhyme and my parchment loves my pen,
I’ve become a woman with whom has great worth-
Then please tell me why I seem to get so upset when,
I am condemned for what I WRITE when f e e l i n g at my worst.

I am a child of God who pours sunshine upon every word I write,
if there are others who don’t see the value in my words-
I will no longer be losing any more p e a c e f u l sleep at night,
and I will continue to write just for me, EVEN IF UNHEARD.



Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written: September 19, 2016

------------------------------------------------------------

It is an honor for me to present this fine poem by a good friend of mine.
She rates very high in every category that makes a great poet.--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Icy Waters

I wade into the icy waters
And weave my way amongst the reeds
And watch the ducks as they shuttle
From ripple to ripple diving playfully.

I feel so young despite my age
When in the stream I unclad my feet.
Rough soles, thick though sore
Move carefully over shingles bare.

It is as if the water cleanses
My heavy soul from all its sins
From so many transgressions
From so many injustices.

But it is always thus with life it seems
That we remember only the ugly past;
We soon forget our good and blessings
Instead we suffer greed for a better life.

So let us raise our expectations,
Commit ourselves to our resolutions.
Go on our journey through its destination
And waste not our lives in angry simulations.

For if like ducks we dive into the stream
And search for tidbits, juicy and sweet,
We'll find so many treasures that
We should forever hold so dear.

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016
-------------------------------------------------------

GREAT POEM FROM ANOTHER POET FRIEND THAT ALWAYS WRITES MEANINGFUL AND DEEP POETRY.--TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Naddred:

As they loomed through the sacred grove,
With staffs of Oak and Mistletoe,
Casting Ogham's to the wind,
These men are wise with strength within.

They know the secrets of the trees,
And all the critters that live with these,
Once the kings would sort their council,
But they are the Wren, out from the wing.

First Irish chief had three eagle feathers,
Where the Bards were called the Fili,
In three worlds they would venture,
For three is sacred to the order, as is Awen.

The king is the eagle in the Duir (oak)
But the Druid is the wren that flys out from his wing.
/|\

The Native Americans have a similar story it goes something like:
As the Eagle soared and was about to claim his kingdom,
Out popped a little wren from under his wing, and flew a few feet higher,
declaring, yes, gaze upon your king, it is I!
In conclusion: It is ok to ride on the coat tail of others as we all do, but at some point, we all must go out there and make our own path, or own inputs.

Copyright © Rick Keeble | Year Posted 2016

MY NEW POET FRIEND-- ONE TO BE WATCHED AND READ AS HE SHOWS TRULY GREAT PROMISE IMHO.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Love's Pledge



To hold this lovesome joy with arms so weak
Lest not I fail and lose such fervent grasp
For tis sweet this love my true heart doth seek
Should not this my passion hold tight its clasp

For not to seek a claim to such rewards
To live lost from this chance disposed from thee
Would be to fail in what true faith affords
And that from in such grace I would not see

My hope joyously in your arms at peace
Forever pleasured in and by your will
In such a place love's life would never cease
Wherein for our forever time stands still

Pray listen for and hear this mournful plea
As for my soul I pledge on bended knee

Sonnet 4 Contest
09/16/2016



Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2016

Truly superb sonnet by my good friend, Charlie Smith..--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Diamond Cut

"A Broken Demo"

In a desperate cry for help
She hires every jeweler
A cheap sheep crying, Wolf!
Using old repeating politic
utilizing lies * manipulation
To cover the Glass Paste on her face
Diamond-like - Stonecold and Crooked!

Her true shape -- unveiled -- predictable
A Thief Among The Mines
In a world where certainties are few---
Promises! Promises!
A shallow cut - with high class
no shape --- no spark, a dark mass
Smashing success when opportunity hits
The worst gem in disguise
The diamonds in her eyes -- gone -- expired

If you look, you will see
A twisted reflection in her evil grin
A sinister smile -- waiting to win
Her Vice - a victim --- her puppet
blind * believing her lies
Cutting the light performance -
-Without realizing most see past her history

We the people are more than a cubic step
Lighting the madness of her soul
Just remember, every day she sits on her pedestal
Without a twinkle --- she stares into night
Knowing nothing she stands for is right

Innovation - incomplete
A man-made she-demon wearing white
Like the swan, dying every night
She refuses to hear the trumpet play
A new moon soon will open our eyes
SOLD AS IS --- Diamond CUT

The Poet Destroyer

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

A free verse poem by my very talented poetess friend, The Poet Destroyer......-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Love on the Planet Evon

I maneuver my small pirogue
towards the tiny inlet.
The sun sinks, night descend quickly.
The bloody Evon moon rise
to its zenith leaving a red uneven path
on the choppy ocean surface.
Quickly I take my special pill
that will transform me into a new being.

Now I need only wait patiently
for she will come as is her wont,
tail splashing, water splurging,
laughter ringing over the glassy sea,
my mermaid riding gracefully
over crested milky waves.

What matters that we must meet.
I feel my feet becoming a tail, I’m glad.
All lovers are asleep or hiding
to escape their fears that change
in the deadly night might bring.
Not me.
Ah, she arrives and I’m in bliss.
We revel in the crimson Evon light,
surf giant white tipped waves,
dive into the dark waters below.

We swim together, bathing off our cares,
the waves provide a fresh shower,
the great Evon gives us strength.
The sea song birds soar o'er our heads,
thrill us with their lovely lullaby.
The waves pound the spiky crags
adding their haunting symphony.
Then will my love sing her haunting ditty,
As I go into a rapture of unbound passion.

I know of others who choose the glens,
gambol and caper on speckled grasses,
dance to the luring pipes of satyrs,
listen to cicadas serrate their tunes,
glide into sweet narcotic dreams
that lotus flowers provide
to those who ask and crave.
They dare not take the changing pill.

Not I,
give me the sea,
the salty sea,
Painted red with Aurora's moon,
far from the clutches of the mighty sun
that burns and blotches my skin.
Let me glide down towards the seabed
below the inky surface and mingle
with fish and mollusks and mermaids,
especially the one I truly love.
This is perpetual bliss, paradise touched
For look over towards the far horizon,
isn't that our wishing star
shooting across the inky skies?

9/4/2016

Placed 1

Take The Dagger From My Heart, Please - 2 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
N/A Contest: TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO POET HAS GONE BEFORE
Judged: 9/18/2016

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016




Fantasy

free your mind from old chains,
fetch me all nine muses,
focus on mages, dwarves,
fairies, elves and pixies,
find me magic potions,
fabled tales surprises,
fiction must reign supreme.

24 September 2016
Checked with How manysyllables.com


Placed 1

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016





My good friend Victor writes with immense talent and dedication.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Thurlby at twilight


A cummerbund of peach and tangerine
below Persian blue sky now washes pale
Marsh Harriers and Starlings call, unseen
competing in bizarre chromatic scales.
Sewn onto the horizon like a hem,
crisp cardboard cut outs on a puppet's stage
black silhouettes of trees break up the Fen,
companions, my deep solitude assuaged.
A circling buzzard ends his last foray,
for him the next meal cannot come to soon,
the evening takes it's leave and says good-day,
lopsided smile upon Lincolnshire moon.

Now turning a full circle, one last gaze
with hope in such peace I can end my days.

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016

Another example of my good friend's great poetry. Amazing imagery and deep message culminating in last verses.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Another sonnet gem found from my good friend's pen.
This poetess has true and very deep talent!!--Tyr




Time To Let You Go

Beneath the sunlit sky I see your face,
and in that moment you reveal your touch-
I feel the way you’ve mastered your embrace,
and through the night your passion is as such.

Above the twilit moon I need your kiss,
I beg of you to keep my secret safe-
For when away your fondness I do miss,
and as we said we need out tender faith.

The way the spark is lit beneath the sheets,
reveals the gentle ways you swiftly trace
my body like a sketch down to my feet,
for in your arms is where I leave my lace.

Before the Lord made man you loved me so-
But now it’s time for me to let you go.



English Sonnet - Poetry Contest
Janice Canerdy
October 21, 2016

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

MAIDEN SUMMER

She drifts in radiance
waking nightfall with palette's hues,
tresses of amber flames drip of vibrant
sensation… and so, in the glide
of July nestling on grass, bouquets,
and coastlines--- she waltzes on moon’s tones
with a luster of desire, bursting
into sheer madness on my glossed skin…

Oh how she flickers more dauntless
than a blend of passion and ease , flitting
like a goddess whose spirit enters inside my pores...
and on ruby clay she was born from,
Maiden of Summer thrusts her
tanned arms fluid, raw, loving: then, to explode
into an awakened prance which enhances
love's sizzle through her open light
gently reeling with my bold adventures;

only to fade quickly in luscious splendour.



10.16.2016
Lewis Raynes’ Personification Contest


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

My friend Nette has loads of talent , clearly seen regardless of which poetry form she writes in!
This is a new poem from her golden pen written for a new contest.
I have not decided if I care to write for this contest--may yet do so tonight...-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A superb free verse poem from my very good friend, Keith O.J. Hunt .....-Tyr



Where the Roses Weep

Where the roses weep and flood the beckoned heart,
where the world is idyll and dark;
we feel too much to sit still and die forever
and be no more...
forgotten even to mythic angels
who were there while we were alive;

Death can cry alone, he shall not take me with him...
he shall not shatter my weeping heart ---
he shall not take me from her;
for I love her too much

Darkness cannot swallow light with its evil,
they cannot stop love ---
bottle it up and send it to some dreary gloom;
it is eternal energy,
it is love
it is life

Where the roses weep and flood the beckoned heart,
where the world is idyll and dark;
my love for her shall always be....



Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Whistling in the wind

In all my life I’ve always dreamed
I’ll meet someone lovely like you
As if our lasting love was meant
We’ll be together all life through,
Just like a whistle in the wind.

We meandered through our life together
Living in one large oversize chamber
We pass from soft spring to winter weather
Through all thick and thin we’ll just remember.

The vast universe was ours to enjoy
As if our spacious room has no more walls,
Say who can dare our lasting love destroy,
I hear the whistle in the wind that calls.

In all my life I’ve always dreamed
I’ll meet someone lovely like you
As if our lasting love was meant
We’ll be together all life through,
Just like a whistle in the wind.

Listen my love, just listen o my dear
The wind is whistling our beautiful song
Our love tune comes over so clear, so clear,
Thus in bliss we will make love all night long.

Yet one day all this must forever end,
Like a loving whistle in the wild wind,
We hope that any of our faults we mend
And become new and fine as sweet as mint.

In all my life I’ve always dreamed
I’ll meet someone lovely like you
As if our lasting love was meant
We’ll be together all life through,
Just like a whistle in the wind.

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016

VICTOR IS A GREAT POET AND A TRULY KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL.
It is an honor for me to call him a friend..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Sedoka |
Oh, Please Dare
10~14~2016


Oh, Yes Please Dare
Trust in love and just let go…
I will show you a view through a rainbow.

Yay! You took a chance and let go of the reigns.
You are a rare soul and a treasure to behold.
A human still brave enough to risk others’ disdain.
You made a choice to accompany me, so bold.
For there is no excitement or joy without risk of pain.
You may see sights which support your wildest dreams I’m told.

one who has not failed
not willing to take a risk
may live to a ripe old age
so safe yet mundane
what drags they bore me so
dare to see through a rainbow

Three Style II – Poetry contest

Copyright © jill spagnola | Year Posted 2016

I have never written in this poetry form myself .
Yet I can readily see that this is superb poetry from my friend Jill.--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

FADING MEMORIES

SONNET – FADING MEMORIES

Memories of a trembling heart fading
with time depriving the joy and laughter.
Shadows of foregone misery shading
a promise of condolence hereafter.
A faint cast remains of a golden heart
alone with a memory the heart yearns
to feel once more, before falling apart,
seeking mercy to mend love’s scarring burns.
Past and present, perhaps future to heal,
the wounds of sorrow, of hapless desire,
and erase the suffering to conceal
a brittle heart charred by ashen fire.

Love’s eternity, expanding distance
to be recovered with time; persistence.


T.J Grén

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2015

This superb sonnet is written by a very good friend of mine and a most talented poet, especially in sonnet writing in which he
excels far above my dancing in that arena.. .. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Sonnet |

Time To Let You Go

Beneath the sunlit sky I see your face,
and in that moment you reveal your touch-
I feel the way you’ve mastered your embrace,
and through the night your passion is as such.

Above the twilit moon I need your kiss,
I beg of you to keep my secret safe-
For when away your fondness I do miss,
and as we said we need our tender faith.

The way the spark is lit beneath the sheets,
reveals the gentle ways you swiftly trace
my body like a sketch down to my feet,
for in your arms is where I leave my lace.

Before the Lord made man you loved me so-
But now it’s time for me to let you go.


English Sonnet
October 21, 2016

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

A great sonnet by my good friend Laura. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Triolet |

Saints and Sinners - Sinners and Saints
------------------- by Andrea Dietrich

The path to take for all is shown -

saints and sinners; sinners and saints.

God loves us, for we are His own.

The path to take for all is shown.

Since days of old, the truth’s been known.

Though all that’s good the darkness taints,

the path to take for all is shown -

saints and sinners; sinners and saints.


Oct. 28, 2016

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

My friend and a most talented poetess....-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

November

An Arctic wind comes reaping the mild air,
breath hangs in clouds and grass hides under frost,
low morning sun soaks branches soon stripped bare,
boots wallow in the reds and golds now lost.
Chevrons of Geese head south for warmer climes,
ground creatures bedding down until the spring,
their instincts telling them it is the time
when nature's heartbeat slows, and no birds sing.
No kindness shown as autumn's laid to rest,
no mercy given, winter's blade unsheathed,
it's willing victim gladly bares it's breast
and falls, in pallid shades the land is wreathed.
Each year this drama plays, the rise and fall
consoled by distant promise, spring will call.

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016[/HTML]

'--------------------------------
--------------------------------
A truly magnificent sonnet~~~!!!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Noteworthy Passion


I wonder if a human heartbeat sings
Will lonely people witness perfect song
As Passion plays upon these lovely strings
What noteful kisses capture can't be wrong

Their bodies merging into blissful tone
She succumbs to his perfect passion pitch
True heartfelt music crushes even stone
The harmony of love makes us feel rich

Rise lovers pleasured treble heating air
Young dancers moving slowly within beat
A trumpet playing fuelling what they share
Each movement foretold in a music sheet

Praise lover's anthem written in the song
Yes music as a heartbeat beating strong

For Janice Canerdy's English Sonnet Contest.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016

Content from PoetrySoup.com. Read more at: http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/a_noteworthy_passion_844570
Copyright © PoetrySoup and Respective Poets.

--------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------

This is a very kind man , true poet and a good friend...
His talent abundantly evident in every poem he shares..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Walking by the lake

The sun is shining tenderly
The sky is deepest blue
Green leaves dance upon the breeze
As birds are singing too
They sing a serenade of bliss
And peace be all around
As all along this dusty trail
Blue lupin’s can be found.

The perfume heavy in the air
It tells of wild geraniums
Young ferns they look so green and soft
And all those tall wild gums
Give out a rather pungent scent
That I have grown to love
As parrots screech in blissful joy
In those trees so high above.

The lake, it glimmers neath the sun
As ducks give out soft quacks
My footsteps grate on sand and gravel
As I stroll along the track
Swamp trees, all gnarled and looking scruffy
Form a tunnel there for me
As I walk beside lake Joondalup
And the dawn caresses me.

Peter Duggan

Copyright © peter duggan | Year Posted 2016

----------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------

THIS IS ONE OF THE MANY FINE POEMS WRITTEN BY MY GREAT AND VERY GOOD FRIEND, PETER DUGGAN.
A VERY TALENTED POET FROM AUSTRALIA THAT ALSO PLAYS GUITAR,SINGS AND WRITES SONGS.
ONE OF THE FINEST LIVING POETS THAT I LEARN FROM AND ALSO ADMIRE GREATLY..-TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Celebrating A Birth

Isn't life a joy beyond imagining
When a child is born to us?
Can there be any greater happening
When families become a chorus?
Oh sweet melody of life's golden symphony
Pregnant seasons birthing spring
Nothing can compare to the cacophony
Of a baby when first she sings.
Look: she smiles, she beams,
Her eyes seraphic twinkle, deep blue-green,
Enchanting, magically enticing, endearing,
Urging her mother to a hug, a kiss
Soft as the early sun on her puffy cheeks.
Captivating, she melts the heart,
Then strikes, straight at the delicious milk
Of her mother's full sweet breast.

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016

From the golden pen of my good friend and extremely talented poet Victor....-:clap::clap::clap:

Today we give Thanks, for our lives and our blessings.
All of which flowed from the sacrifice that came from a single birth,
Christ born....--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Mystery Of The Light

Moon light harkens,
Seeking new dimensions...
Stardust glistens, while
Unmasking true intentions...
Awakening emotions,
Inspiring deep devotion...
Lightly, proudly,
Love unveils its pleasure...
Embrace it, taste it,
Measuring such treasure...
Cast your pains away
With clear voice that greats the day,
Kneel and humbly pray,
Raise the curtain of the night
And walk into the mystery of the light...
Lift your head
And walk away from
Shrouded fears...
Turn aside
Of the life
You've lived before...
In your heart
Seek one thought
Of evermore...
And you'll know
Him as you've never
Known before...
Warmly, lightly,
The brightness will astound you...
Sense it, hear it
Wrap its arms around you...
Let your faith be shown-
From the brightness that-
You know will lead to sight...
Forever walking with
The mystery of the light...

Phantom Lyrics Contest
Sponsored by The Seeker
11/15/2016


Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2016


Excellent lyrics from my friend, Charlie Smith....--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Shine Like A Sun - For Jill

“Shine Like A Sun.”
By,
Michael P Clarke.

(Tail Rhyme.)

Shine like a sun your beauty bright,
light up my darkness be my light,
the grace of angels.
My Aphrodite to the sight,
you lighten up my day and night,
love your light foretell.

I feel alive i hear you sing,
you are love’s dream love’s everything,
My heart cries its tears.
Into my life such joy you bring,
to your precious peace i cling,
i throw away fears.

In my soul i now feel your kiss,
i have climbed your own love trellis,
My heart it does cheer.
Days of sorrow i never miss,
for now i know your loving bliss,
love blooms you are near.

My love did seem a moulding moss,
through darkened life my heart did toss,
in my pain i sighed.
The pain is gone i feel no loss,
and joy has freed me from my cross,
all my pain has died.

You are the light passion begun,
love that is gold come on the run,
your temple does shine.
Searching so long the journey done,
you are desire shine like a sun,
Your love is divine.

To your love i ever return,
your kisses with love how they burn,
I never decline.

(Jill's Scrapbook Series.)

Copyright © Vladislav Raven | Year Posted 2016

[Balu]

Dear Robert,
Please hand over my Best Regards to your friends.
They wrote excellent poems I liked so much.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Finding Love:

Such lovely lilac and crimson tones,
As a rainbow of colours fill the sky,
Radiant and beautiful soothes my bones,
Takes me above the clouds so far and high.

Captured in a moment of total bliss,
Wondering all the time what is life for?
Suspended in awe like a lovers kiss,
Never felt like this to my very core.

Love all around and it's time I was found,
Beauty everywhere can't you see her smile,
Smiling at you and smiling all around,
It's time you gave love a chance for awhile.

But leave me above the clouds, here I'll stay,
I have found love in a different way.
/|\
(Ten syllables per line)
31~10~16

Copyright © Rick Keeble | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Park Bench

I wish I was a poet
With magical words
To make people see all of the absurd
Tears fly, paintings in pastel die

When we look into our mirrors
We sometimes miss
What love dumps upon all of us
We shed tears, for we forgot to shed fears

I have no legs, nor any crutches
So my voyage has ended
I only observe
Sadness upended

When goodness is confused
When gestures are refused
When the kiss that could have been
When a poets tear seems obscene

The one who hears is often deaf
The deaf sometimes have nothing left
If I could give a kiss away
I would give it to lovers with hearts that sway

Drawing love on paper in may

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Folks, this is a true poet!
My great honor to call him my friend...-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Path of sorrow

Sad fragile heart begins to beat faster,
for it knows it's heading for disaster.
Eyes fixed into nothing, softly they stare,
wondering why nobody seems to care.

Like rustling leaves abandoning the tree,
who gave them permission to be set free.
Virgin silent tears seep through wrinkled bark,
hidden, only when horizons become dark.

Evading towards the path known as sorrow,
unsure of what could happen tomorrow.
When lies become truths, there can be no trust,
as broken promises vanish like dust.

This sullen demeanour has no fear of death,
just the pain it will feel until my last breath.


29 November 2016
The Silent One

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

-----------------------------------------------------

Poetry by-
My friend, Silent One, a very great poet and honorable gentleman..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

THE HUNT


Tresses sheened and coiled to perfection in its twist
Hair worn, as warrior helmets embellished to match
Eyes outlined in kohl and glued lashes for cat pierce

Heaving cleavages pushed or filled up, wreak havoc
Under corsets curved tight so keen minds bid adieu
Netted in snares of stockinged legs’ revealing nylon
Tramping in vamped stiletto heels sharp as a lancet

Fiery blood red lips wile and smile in a pouty bluff
Over charming empties, like fish lures flashing, so
Resplendent as the prize, is carefully scanned over

Prime meat's seen as one preened in glitzy heap
Radiating from limbs and torso in declared label
Emanating dollar signs, of a trump tower aurora
Yelling silently's a cheer, for perfect divorce play!

(11/4/16 – Acrostic for contest)

Copyright © San Woo | Year Posted 2016

A fine acrostic by my friend San Woo.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Heart of Christmas -EDITED

Tinsel sparkling on trees that toys lie beneath,
Holly with berries and the hanging of the wreath.
Everything is red and ever-green.

Hearth and home are comforting;
Evening is nigh.
As the snow begins to flurry,
Radiant we see the stars in the sky
Tonight.

Oh, Holy Night the angels sang beneath one special star. Can you
Feel the way the shepherds felt back then so long ago?

Commercialism of the Yuletide season,
However, was never supposed to be the
Reason.
Is there something different that we
Should be doing?
Take a moment to reflect. What really matters?
Make a promise to the babe whose birth you celebrate
At this precious time. Do for others the whole year long and
Share your heart!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

-----------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------

This poetess can write top notch poetry in just about every form there is..
She is my friend and has the pure soul of a true poet!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Sifting Sand From My Soul

If I but one day of my life left
there'd be words I'd not delay.
Too long I've struggled, bereft,
my tongue mired in pit of clay

I'm sifting sand from my soul,
Baring my heart's affection,
finding bravura to be bold
yet fearing gentlest rejection.

Time squandered is ne're returned
so I must reveal what I am feeling,
hoping sweet ardor is not spurned
for love I've long been concealing.

Stars hover aloft in evening skies
but never could they outshine
the gleam I descry in your eyes
when my own and yours align.

Moon rising to Heaven's height,
beauty emerging from eclipse.
Not as alluring on darkest night
as a kiss from your senuous lips.

Sunlight yawns on the edge of dawn
but the warmth of his morning rays
cannot be compared to love born
by your touch that sets me ablaze.

I dare not lift tremulous eyes to see
the response your face has defined.
If you do not feel the same for me
it would be better if I remain blind.

Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016

-------------------------------------------------------------

A magnificent poem written by my friend Lin Lane...
This one is a pure gem!!!

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Presenting this awesome sonnet written by my friend and fellow poet, Viv Wigley.
This poet, amazes me with both the top level talent shown and the great diversity in his poems.-Tyr


November Sunrise- three choices


A silence all pervading, nothing moves,
the gentle hiss I hear is in my head
like record stylus placed into the groove.
Clouds form the upper circle overhead.
Orchestra tunes up in the nearby trees,
Blackbird and brace of Magpies, two for joy,
blue safety curtain draws back by degrees
a scarlet backdrop from the ground deploys.
The star takes to the stage with no applause
rising at the speed of summer flowers
white whispy fingers climb as ground frost thaws,
spotlights on cobwebs sparkle in the bower.

Nature murmurs quietly in the wings
new day, a new performance, Blackbird sings.

For 'Three choices...' contest, sponsor Sara Kendrick

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

She of Sweet Kisses

--------- by Keith O. J. Hunt

She of sweet kisses and lavender hues,
with wild loving eyes,
to melt in each orb of fire,
and dream too long....
Disguised to resist such wild love;
untamed as a wild stallion ---
she illumed this little darkling....
with her little light of love,
vast as the hope in her heavenly heart

That I dream her little dream,
and dance to the wanton moon in her eyes;
where the heavens alight a darkest night,
where my heart swoons in sweeter meadows,
I hold her as mine;
for all time, we are One,
in this red-wedded night,
unforgotten,
(She of sweet kisses)

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2016

FOLKS, THIS IS A TRUE GEM , POETRY FORM CLASSICISM.
KEITH IS ONE OF THE BEST POETS THAT I KNOW....
And he writes in this style with such ease.
Always has been a pleasure to collaborate with him.
However this superb poem is all his own writing. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Hidden In The Stones

Imagine someone watching you
who wants you for his own
Imagine in the catacombs, a secret plan is honed
It echoes with a wounded heart
of someone so alone
He hides his shame behind a mask, that smolders, but is cold

Look beyond the chandelier that blinds you in the eye
Can't you see him lurking there, while waiting in disguise

If only you could see in him
a face that isn't cold

Behind the mask he wears for you,
a man has lost his soul

Search beyond the mask he wears and look into his eyes
Be wary of the rendezvous that he will fantasize

If only he was more than just a phantom of your dreams
If only you could find in him a promise to believe

Don't be betrayed by what appears to be for you alone
But be afraid, a million tears are hidden in the stones

He'll tell you from the very start, to search beyond the scars
He'll hide from you that you are meant to be his secret star

Sing to him your aria….. But don't forsake your heart!
If you believe he'll set you free, he'll tear your dreams apart

Sing to him of love, Christine! Sing to the rafters high
The chandelier will shatter then, into a million cries!

If you plead to him of broken dreams, you'll need to tell him lies
Sing about another love, but be prepared to die!

Sing your song of love, Christine,
it is sorrow you have found

Sing to him your aria…….. then, slowly watch him drown

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11/17/16
Contest: "Phantom of the Opera"
Sponsor: The Seeker

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

-----------------------------------
-----------------------------------

This poetess, ranks with the very best I've ever seen. Every poem she writes amazes me!
For she is the real deal my friends!-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

If you have courage...

If you have courage...
You will, open your eyes
If you have courage...
You will not believe all their lies

If you have courage...
You will get up when you stumble
If you have courage...
You will always try to stay humble

If you have courage...
You will begin on your destination
If you have courage...
You will always humbly accept direction

If you have courage...
You will always open your mind
If you have courage...
Peace and happiness you will find

If you have courage...
You will try to understand others
If you have courage...
You will see all men as your brothers

If you have courage...
You will, try to see my point of view
If you have courage...
You will, better understand you

If you have courage...
You will, search for the truth
If you have courage...
You will not allow despising of your youth

If you have courage...
You will examine all the facts
If you have courage...
You will defend the truth from all attacks

If you have courage...
You will not follow the crowd
If you have courage...
You will testify out loud

If you have courage...
You will seek answers to your questions
If you have courage...
You will accept them without hesitation

If you have courage...
You will confess your faith in God
If you have courage...
You will not care when they call you odd

If you have courage...
You will understand why you believe
If you have courage...
You will not be easily deceived

If you have courage...
You will stand by your convictions
If you have courage...
You will help others with their contradictions

If you have courage...
You will not fear impending disaster
If you have courage...
You will have already obeyed God as your master


Do you have courage?


John Derek Hamilton
December 08,2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Fire To Ashes

You ignited a blazed ember in my soul when you left-
Now I am living in my yesterday’s alone and bereft.

There are shades of grey and nights of pure hell-
Was it your misery or insanity? I could never tell.

Bestowed with sunshine, you held the twilit moon-
Left with such ease; gone too far and way too soon.

I hear you in the Heavens and still feel your adoration,
but things are not the same since you left with complication-
Sinister self-execution seems to have been the correlation.
If only your choices were in the depths of my being-
Maybe my eyes wouldn’t be blind without my mind seeing.

You went from fire to ashes all in a single moment-
Now I’m left cleaning up your mess lost in your atonement.

You fueled a lover’s quarrel and left a deep red stain-
Now I’m living in but a distant memory, from death I must refrain.

I feel you in the breeze leaving with such ease,
I know you more than me; I’m grieving, no one sees-
I sense you in white lilies and in the whisper of the trees.
I needed you more than breath as I suffocate and bleed-
For you and only you are the one person that you freed.

You ignited a blazed ember in my heart when you died-
Now I fear all my tomorrow’s…why sorrow did you hide?


October 19, 2016

by- Laura Loo
---------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------
This tremendously talented poetess writes superb poems.
Every poem she writes shows the depth and talent that she has..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Christmas Charity

He watched her all day,
From behind his window,
fascinated by her persistence,
renouncing a wholesome dinner,
the warmth and comfort of a home.
She stood, instead, in the telephone box
calling no one, receiving no one.
Surely if she did not phone anyone
One could assume she was waiting for one.
But no one rang. All Christmas Eve.

The wind blew icy cold and it was clear
she was not adequately clothed.
She must have been suffering a lot.
He wanted to shout to her:
Call it a truce, forget the caller,
come to my humble abode
and rest a while. Here's plenty to eat,
turkey, vegetables, mince pies and cakes
and a warmed red sangria
to pump some blood into your face.

She stayed put until midnight
as winter's blizzard opened its doors,
to herald in the birth of Christ.
Her ghost cared not for this,
and tired out she fell
crumbled dead on the floor
of an abandoned telephone box.

Next day they took her away.
He remained at the window,
angry, wondering the why of it all.
It was days later that he remembered.
Then he felt the terrible shame.
He had not prayed for her at all.

POTW 12/17/2016

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016

A BRILLIANT AND SAD REMINDER THAT , we sometimes forget to act.
Sometimes, we fail to give the charity we now we should.
And it usually hits us hard later, if we have a Christian soul.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

WINTER ALCHEMY



While powdered flakes gently spill from heaven
Like embroidery of gold tassels kissing buds
And hawthorns ,the frost twinkles and drifts
Unto winter’s beautifully formed marquee,
tangy the vapor of her skin
wafting into nightfall’s’ interlude.

Enthralled, I shudder at the rhythm
Of her dance : icicles flitting in liquid
Crystal taps on silver alleys... a movement
glossed by the spades of eve’s lanterns:
She is a mystery, a prayer, a holy angel
That lays her sparkling white gown
On pearled brocade sewn into fabric of snow…
A winter’s luminescence casting an alchemy
That my own fingers, in a pirouette,
unfurls then coils into a solstice's hymn
‘Glory be, glory be.”



12/4/2016
Shadow Hamilton's A Winter Poem



Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

THIS POETESS HAS SUCH GREAT TALENT!!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Unseen Rainbow


I've never ever seen her face,
but in my mind, she's the color of love
Black
strong like dark coffee
She wakes you up early in the morning,
gives you an energetic taste of loving
to get your day going
Red
passionate fire flows in her veins
She's got crimson lips that blow words of desire,
to keep the flames rising higher and higher,
every time she speaks your name
Yellow
smile is sunshine bright
She walk towards you in her canary-colored,
polka dot sun dress that accentuate her hips so well
Her graceful charm is so a-maize-ingly pastel
Blue
mood indigo can really touch you
She makes you want to love her always,
under ocean lit moonlight and clear cerulean skies
Embark on a passage of endless days
Green
verdant valley of iris flower eyes
She's as a carpet of grass with enfolding arms,
wrapping you in her love
Bury your head in her bosom, safe from harm
Brown
sugar is the sweetest heart ever known
She has a boundless supply of caramel happiness,
taste the creamy richness of her sensuality
It's like roasted chestnuts offered to a welcomed guest
White
visions of a streaming, silky satin dress
She has a winter glow like pure virgin snow,
a gift waiting to be opened by a worthy beau
Beckons you into her ivory tower to rest
Forever gazing into her yet unseen face,
which in my mind is the color of love

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Green Ribbon


I stand on a high cliff,
my long raven hair is blowing in the wild wind
and my dress of red presses to the curves of my body.
A green ribbon from my hair is sailing away over the ocean,
but I am anchored to this place -
I carry a heavy, dragging weight that is an immense
burden in my life, how I wish that I could break the chains
that hold me and like my green ribbon sail away over the
ocean, that I could be like a bird drifting over blue waves;
Oh, I would like to explore the world on a sailing ship-
upon the deep blue with no shores in sight,
that would be so lovely to see the white billowing sails.
I wish and dream to be ruled by the winds that blow,
not the heavy burdens of life.

__________________
Contest 243

Fourth Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

If I had been the judge I would have rated this in first place!
For it is a superb piece! -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Courage



Courage is understanding
and confronting reality...
Cowardliness wounds us with its lies,
courage binds us in its Grace...
The moral courage to share love is in and
of itself our most vigorous defense of fear...
Self-respect can be lost
in the cowardice of silence...
Bravery bears no chain of betrayal...

The pain of failure is
the most useful tool of courage...
God did not endow us with the will to die
but with the courage we bring to living...
Fear could be an extraordinary opportunity
that may never be presented to us again, seize it...
The purest form of bravery
lives in an artist's heart...

12/13/2016


Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2016





Date: 12/27/2016 9:26:00 AM
You my friend write with such depth and clarity upon important subjects. Courage is something that in America has been under attack by our own government. Discouraged in places of higher learning. Tremendous free verse! A FAV.... Robert

PRESENTATION OF SUPERB POETRY FROM MY GOOD FRIEND CHARLIE SMITH.
I COPIED MY REPLY TO HIM ON HIS WONDERFUL POEM......
And gave note to fellow poets that as poets we are not to shy away from difficult issues and are instead to shine light upon darkness!
My comment to that fine poem-will turn many more poets at my home site against me IMHO.
AND THEY WILL MAKE THAT KNOWN IN VARIOUS WAYS.
We are always punished for speaking the truth--tis the way of the world..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Not One Word


Silence
The sweet rhapsody of quiet
Sit back and savor
the music of the void,
where no dissonant voices are heard
It's so relaxing in this soundless realm;
break not the peace, speak not one word
Stay muted,
let all unspoken thoughts flow within
a serene state of mind, cascading down
into a calm stream of consciousness
No discordant utterances echoes through this vale of tranquility
The absence of strident, background noise
causes
the ears
to fall
sound asleep
Not one disturbing word to be heard ...
There is only blessed silence
floating around you as you dream deep,
thinking of me,
in the heart of the night
This is as it should be

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016

Now this is wonderful poetry my friends. This very gifted poet, taps right into a man's need to find solitude and silence from time to time.
Find a place with no other human around, see Nature and talk to God. Alone..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Too young to die
---- by Anthony Gitau

As the wind continue to sway,
We hurt from the inside but the outside can't lay.
Where there is a will there is a way,
But writing a will is a perspective for it seems as the day
Where to each other we have to bid goodbye in a tough say
For we stand too young to die.

When we sight darkness at the end of the tunnel of light
When we stand to condemn that which was upright
When we gather to critize the upright
When,, ,,,even the taboos gets afraid of the night,
My heart sinks for in my heart I sight;
We stand too young to die.

When proportion, emotion,corruption has no contention
Where morality is a cultural notion
Trending economic activity is corruption
The age is not a barrier to 'sips and tastes of death' consumption
And still stand and claim to be a nation
To the end of our race is where we are driven by our locomotion
I still feel,we are too young to die.

I am not planning to be a missionary
For the words I preach were erased from their dictionary
But,
I can't stop to lament
The bitter truth to accept
For we are too young to die

The mistake committed not known to them
On the suffering grid they stand at the helm
Their bridge to the success,sit content in agony overwhelm
And the teachers ,custodians of our culture,sit under the elm
Waiting for the last breath to be their help
For them to fill after life home,
For they know we are too young to die

As the sun set,
They eagerly await to their spirits free let
If I guessed, I would win the bet
For the length of night don't stop the morning light
Where my paper and pen will be my armor at the night
For we stand too young to die.

Copyright © Anthony Gitau | Year Posted 2016

A new poet I found at my home poetry site. Guy is pretty good methinks!-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Bard of Gort

Springing free from glistening
Fronds
The summers heat leaps for
Height;
Whilst drifting obscurely far
Above
A distant lark now hangs in
Flight.

Floats down his sweet trill,
Accompanied by joyous and
Uplifting revelry,
Over the black crows nasal
Calls;
Whose draped shadow,
contemplating devilry,
Flaps and furtively falls
Into ripening bean fields
Planted in neatly sowed rows:
Nourished in darkest till,
Enriched by pedantic verse of
Gaelic odes.

Do now these gentle Slopes
Pause to yield
Where secretive song,
Bursting forth, is much concealed
inside the plain of Aidhne;
For here the great rock of the
Burren,
Whereby so implored upon,
Revealed its grey stones...
To rebuild ancient and deserted
Thoor Ballylee.

Sweeping briskly past a tors
Grassy island busy in bloom,
Eagerly cramming under four
Crouched arches,
Skim the borrowed waters of
Thee immortal Cloone;
Dappling currents
Dawdling around squat stanchions -
Staunchly carrying the quiet bridge
Over the old concourse:
Momentarily loitering -
Wantonly begging to coyly swoon...

Now, joyfully sporting in gushing
Discourse,
Gleefully courting elusive and
Glimmering enchantments:
Mirrored reflections enticed to
Enter -
To be forever trapped within a
Burbling rivers sacred rhyme and
Tune.

Higher and higher the spiraling
Stairs of de Burgo
When through airy woodland
Glades
The towering shadow sought;
And higher and higher the spirit
Of an ageing poet...
His crowding thoughts
Roaming freely amidst these
Fabled legends of Gort.

Harken then to the feathered
Herald -
Tis Gods design that calls on
Ye!
For few men know of what he
Sings...
He sings of the forgotten paths
Forever lost within Innisfree.

Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2016


Below are my two comments made on author's page presenting the poem.-Tyr


1. Robert Lindley
Date: 8/22/2016 4:12:00 PM
IMMORTAL beauty cast forth in this image filled feast my friend. I am of Viking/Irish/English bloodlines on my father's side. Having never been to see Ireland myself this gem glowed for me. Truly, you did Yeats proud and this is an honor for me to add to my fav list.. A7


2. Robert Lindley
Date: 1/2/2017 5:45:00 AM
I have added this gem to my fav list and had the immense pleasure of rereading this gem several times. You have indeed given great tribute to the great man himself. My apologies for this late reply. I can not keep up with my correspondence as of late due to my health/family issues.....

"Enter - To be forever trapped within a Burbling rivers sacred rhyme and Tune."
^^^^^ Pure gold.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

streets of blood

she stood upon the terrace high
streets of blood below
the gate left open in the night,
a dark sky threatens snow

with swine and pearls running free
her bed sheets fought the wind
a tear drop fell her worried eyes
at hate now once again

of drawbridge wars in endless fight
to stones of castle keep
a single rose a’ bloom this dawn
as mothers come to weep

for sons of father’s destined fall,
these followed footsteps bare
along the streets so narrow, long,
where death becomes aware

“enough!” she shouted far and wide
“this fighting now shall end”
“take your swords and hateful spite,
do not return again”

and lifting high her amulet
upon a staff of wood
she chanted as the stone did glow
this morning where she stood

“of peace, let all be felt this hour
thy breath of saddened greed
be gone, be gone, oh beast of war
no longer doth thou feed

ye shadows o’er a nightfall mist
lest blood befall your hand
beyond this tree lined sacred place
be gone from this our land”

when then a mighty wave did flow,
the streets were cleansed of fear
and there beyond horizons call
the sunrise did appear

and where once sat a single rose,
one thousand buds did grow
of crimson red and silken gold,
the sweetest fragrance flow

mothers hugged their children close
as loudly trumpets blared
the bloodied streets now white with snow
and love by all was shared

but there within the canyons lurked
cast eyes of beaded red
“i shall return to take this place
o’ ye who think me dead”

“to once more fill yon streets with blood
of this ye can believe
no matter what the masses want,
know this, i shall not leave”


copyright © chris green | year posted 2016

a true poetry gem if i ever saw one!!!--tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Poet's Invitation

Oh, visit me, though I've not looked for you
Show me you care; come share a word or two
Look for my name, in all the names you see
Come spend some time, be ray of sun to me
Visit Me

How will I know if you like what you read
I long to know that I fulfill a need
That what I write is solace for your soul
My little rhymes, a balm that makes you whole
Visit me

Come let communion wash away your fear
Let words of comfort dry away that tear
In blessed little rhymes, is sweet reprieve
and warmth and comfort in the lines I weave
Visit Me

Come visit me when others tear you down
Come visit me when in despair you drown
Come visit me when hope from heart has flown
Come visit me when pain is all you've know
Visit me

My words will be the kiss upon your cheek
The elixir of youth, when you are weak
My lines will be the bandage that will bind
I hope that what you seek, in me you'll find
Visit Me

Come and visit....ME....

Eileen Manassian

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Of Three States Of Mind - A Poetic Weave


listen,
the whispers
of leaves
turn colour
autumn is here.

now that you are gone
who will wake every morn
to lift the sun
unveil the sky
etch in the clouds
who will paint the rainbow?

i had a dream and in the dream i wove you a poem
i used the fiber of my character to create spools of silken thread
dipped in the juices of my passion i dyed them in the colors of my imagination
re-enforced each and every single strand with the strength of my love

touch,
the echoes
of the rain
- waters
- blossoms spring.

now that 'us' is just a word
no longer with you as one
i alone wind up metal toys
cut out paper dolls
the beach swept from under my feet
the child in me flees.

spun spools from the intricacy of my spirit
designed a pattern
to the rhythm
of the music
of my inner thoughts

enamoured in your vision
crystal beads gather on my brow
as i toil your finely bred gift
as i braid every part of me
with every memory
into every sliver of fabric

taste,
uncut
snow shapes
crisp cold
ices the wintertide.

instead now rusted
a fools gold chain of loneliness
hangs around my neck like a noose
mourns a union that once had breath
a twosome that now is dead.

see,
the sand sculptures
paint
rekindle
a childhood summer
past.

sew in the loving glow emits my flawless dreams
with my boiling blood initial my woven piece

my work at an end i awake
you lay there a wingless angel asleep
smiling as if you heard a bell ring
your boundless warmth embraces me

the moon no longer smiles
the stars no longer wink

smell,
seasonal airs
stimulates senses
memories they deliver.

without a touch
barely - i kiss you.

in this
my decade of one
hope is a wickless candle
the night just day without light

in the glee,
hopes and dreams,
in the human spirit,
lives the miracle of life.
magnificent
voices in every pitch
deep and resounding,
the melody of echoes and whispers – uncut.


Jan 4 2017
With Love
Armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

When a Man Loves A Woman When A Woman Loves A Man



WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN

He knows not why or how the reason left
nor why the whisper of each night brought heat
He knows not when the time of hour past
but this he knows, she's awfully nice and sweet

He sings her praise with song then does his part
bringing flowers dressed in green and solid gold
He woos with song and music from the heart
then clothes her with a kiss both new and old

He brings her flowers of the rarest kind
with genuine affection of the mind
a rarely thing is love when found anew
he will solidify then stick like glue

He brings her love and the most precious kind
She brings him truth and that, is never blind.

************************************

WHEN A WOMAN LOVES A MAN

She knows not why they struggled for so long
nor why their eyes refused to greet
She knows not when the first kiss turned to song
but this she knows, he swept her off her feet!

She dresses just for him in black lace style
then draws her liner carefully sublime
She drinks the elixir of his sweet smile
and runs into his arms a hundreth time

She brings him little gifts and cards with hearts
with little I love yous, consigned in red and blue
She listens carefully and always does her part
to make him understand, she loves him too

She brings him love, the most precious of kind,
he brings her truth and that, is never ever blind.

The End.


Copyright © Mystic Rose | Year Posted 2017

FOLKS, YOU WILL NOT FIND A BETTER SET OF DOUBLE SONNET THAN THIS IN MY OPINION.
And I rightly told the author so on her homepage after added this poem to my favorites list there..!

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Words lost in silence

Goodbye my beloved, guess this is the end,
too much has happened for our hearts to mend.
Since, I became a victim of your wrath,
my soul still ventures upon sorrows path.

I searched within the corridors of your heart,
to find in your performance, I play no part.
Forgive me, for no longer I shall follow,
seeing that your heart has become so hollow.

Words lost in silence, mean we don't exist,
now my lonely heart must learn to subsist.
Your emotions change with each new season,
that explains why you left without a reason.

Oh lovers, remember those who light the lamp,
are also the ones to douse it like a scamp!


Silent One
28 December 2016

-----------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------

TRUE AND TOP LEVEL SONNET-EERING HERE MY FRIENDS..!!!!!!-TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Winter Magic

So bleak the Winter strides upon my path...
The dry, brown, fallen leaves behold its wrath...

I shiver from the chill the North Wind blows
And wonder in this barren land of crows:

Where Is the magic that I once beheld
When I was young and love was often spelled...

Now with the wind there comes a glist'ning snow
That covers everything...even my woe...

The silence of its falling clears my head
Reminding me that I am not yet dead!

I go and catch a snowflake on my tongue
And once again...like magic...I am young...

No longer bleak, the Winter seems to be,
For something has renewed the life in me...

Oh, Winter Magic, take hold of my hand...
And let's go build a snowman... big and grand!


Deborah Burch©
12.25.16

Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2016

This poetess can write beautiful verses and has now been added to my favorite poets list at my home poetry site..-Tyr

************************************************** ************************************************** *******************************


I found this poem shown below, written by my friend Richard, to be so fine, I had to come back to add it!-Tyr


Best Richard Lamoureux Poems


Everyone's a winner

They told me I was remarkable
and now it's plain to see
There is nothing extraordinary
about simple little me

All the ribbons I have hanging
Upon the shelf so high
They told me I was a winner
all I had to do was try

It wasn't about competition
Every child was told to have fun
They told us we were the very best
Each child born to be number one

So out in the world they sent me
Unequipped for what I would find
With the legend of my accomplishments
sadly this illusion was just in my mind

No one was there to help me
The competition was far to real
It seemed other were driving the bus
Even though I was behind the wheel

So let your children know failure
So they can learn to compete
In a world of winners and losers
They'll learn to think on their feet

For adversity leads to greatness
Each loss will lead to a win
If I already think I am a winner
I have no reason to begin

Richard Lamoureux




In an age of no grades and trophies for every kid, we are losing our risk takers. We can't insulate our children from what lies ahead. It is a competitive world and we are sewing the seeds of failure.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Rose
----------- by Barbra Lambert

What is more lovely than the rose
Awash with dew in morn’s fair light?
How do we pen of its repose—

Discern the language of its prose
Of fragrance sweeter than rare spice?
What is more lovely than the rose

Replete with excellence of pose
In hues of pink, vermeil, and white?
How do we pen of its repose

In yonder garden where it grows
On verdured stems that stand upright?
What is more lovely than the rose—

Classic, lush, and fully clothed
With petals soft and O so light?
How do we pen of its repose:

Its ling’ring scent, its striking glow,
Its irrefutable delight?
What is more lovely than the rose—
How do we pen of its repose?




Contest: Your Absolute Best II
Sponsored by: The Seeker
Date: December 18, 2016

Copyright © Barbra Lambert | Year Posted 2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Written for the Winter Solstice sunrise at Avebury, Wiltshire, England

I have waited for you
Where no shadow seeps
Deep in the earth
Where the slow damp creeps
Under the stones
Where the sunlight sleeps
I have waited for you

I have listened for you
In the eaglet’s cry
In the echoes of rooks
In the empty sky
In a new born’s breath
And a dead man’s sigh
I have listened for you

I have looked for you
Where the elders grow
Followed your steps
Through the virgin snow
Through groves of yew
And mistletoe
Looking for you

I have watched for you
By the door and the gate
Risen up early
And lain down late
Doubted your love
And cursed my fate
Watching for you

You said you would come
You said that you will
Appear as the dawn
On the curve of the hill
I have waited for you
Through the dark, and the still
You said you would come

I lit you a fire
I kindled a flame
In the fear of the darkness
I called out your name
I thought I was dying
And then you came
You said you would come

And here you are
The promise of light
Sweetening silence
And softening night
And all shall be well
And be blesséd delight
You said you would come

© Gail Foster 21st December 2016



Copyright © Gail Foster | Year Posted 2016
--------------------------------------------------

Truly great verses!-Tyr

[Balu]

Of Three States Of Mind - A Poetic Weave


Jan 4 2017
With Love
Armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2017
Very unusual way to express. Uncommon poetic images..., but very touching and forming a relief pattern.
Thank you, Robert, for this experience. :clap:

[Balu]

Robert,
You are very risky person to open your easily vulnerable soul in front of the others to such an extent.
I am greatly surprised and happy that such Men still exist. Me Great Respect to you! http://www.kolobok.us/smiles/big_standart/hi.gif

[Balu]

Sorry for my daring to put something from Russia poetry in this tread. But, nevertheless...

To Kachalov's Dog (*)

Come, Jim, give me your paw for luck,
I swear i've never seen one like it.
Let's go, the two of us, and bark
Up the moon when Nature's silent.

Come, Jim, give me your pow for luck.
Stop licking me, pet, and please do
At least heed this advice i'm giving.
Of life you havent got a clue,
You do non realise life is worse living.


You master's kind a man of note,
And visitors his home are thronging,
They all admire your velvet coat
Which smilingly they love to fondle.


You're devilish handsome for a dog,
So charming, trusting, unsuspicious,
Not asking if you may or not,
Like a drunken pal, you plaster kises.


Dear Jim, I know a great warety
Of visions of all shorts call,
But have you seen her here, the saddest
And the least talkative of all?


I'm sure she'll come here. In my absence
Please catch her eye. Go kiss her hand for me,
For all my real or fancied errors asking
Forgiveness of her in humility.

(*) Kachalov - a close friend of Sergei Yesenin. Famous Russian theater actor.

-----------------------------------------------------

Blossom wite bird cherries scatter
On the on the dewy grass like snow.
Hungry rooks in ploughland gather,
Picked warms up as they go.


Low the silk smooth grath is bending,
Pitch scents to the pine-trees cling.
Groves in leaf, and luscios meadows -
How the senses reel in spring!


Secret things give me pleasure,
Heart-ease and delight they bring.
There's a girl whose love I treasure
And of her alone I thing.


Shed your blossom-snow, bird cherries!
Sing, birds, in they shady groves.
Weaving up and down the meadow
I'll go scattering flower foam.

--------------------------------
Hope that you are aware that ANY translation steals a lot from the flavor of a poem and is not able to transfer a poem as it is.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

In Bluebell Wood

Adventures in Bluebell Wood
With Pirates and Robin Hood
Roy Rogers and Peter Pan
Custer in another last stand

Lone Ranger catching thieves
Tarzan climbing trees
Red Barron flying again
In this secret hideaway den

The days so full of fun
Fighting Vikings when they come
Merlin’s magical things
Flash and the Emperor Ming

A thousand games we played
Charge of the Light Brigade
Sinbad and Captain Blood
Adventures in Bluebell Wood

Copyright © Robert Broadbent | Year Posted 2016

_________________________________
__________________________________

I sent this comment to this fine poet on the poem presentation page.

""So captures the imaginative world of we when kids played ages ago my friend!-Tyr
I simply love this gem and have added this gem to my fav list..A7""

[Balu]

A poem of Sergei Yesenin which became a romance.

Letter to mother

Are you still alive, my old good mother?
I'm alive. Hello, hello, my mom!
Lets unspeakable light in every evening
Flow over your minuscule home.

People tell that you became so anxious,
Worrying what kind of life I've got,
That you often standing at the road
Wearing worn old-styled overcoat.

And you see in shades of evening darkness
Every time same nightmare appear:
During saloon fighting some mean bastard
Put a knife thru my heart, what you fear.

Calm your soul, dear mother, they are lying.
From all bull it seems to be the worst.
I am not a low-life boozehound
To pass off without see you first.

I am still the same - I'm full of caress.
And this is indeed my only hope:
Rid myself from pain of being restless
And return to our simple adobe.

I'll be back when in the spring our garden
Starts to wear white blooming tuxedo.
But don't wake me anymore at dawn
Like you did eight years back ago.

Don't wake up dead dreams, it's too late now,
Don't remind about things were lost, -
That's because at very early ages
I went thru fatigue and terrible loss.

Don't teach me to pray. No need to do that!
Time would never come back, it's the plight.
You are only help and comfort for me,
You indeed are my unspeakable light.

Please forget about all your worries,
Your anxiety to be forgot.
Don't stay so often at the road
Wearing worn old-styled overcoat.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTPHLg6Da3k

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Dramatic monologue |



Galaxies, Memories And Relativity


Kinetic waves of energy
Ripples in time and space
subtle sums of synergy
Patterns of silk and lace

Universes that race away
Mem’ries that as quickly fade…
Into black holes of yesterday
That give nothing back in trade

Stardust settling ‘pon dusty hutch
And on planetary plain (alike)
Truly does not differ much
In substance same (as in sight)

Universes that give birth to stars
Pediatric wards work pretty much the same
Birth is birth…for what it’s worth
It’s just a cosmic game

Galaxies that go on forever
Rainbows that have no end
All a part of eternal endeavour
Without an answer my friend

Warp speed….Snail’s pace
It’s all relative you see
One takes place in outer space
The other is given to you and me

Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic | Year Posted 2016

This is my friend David at his best, composing deep, but truly enjoyable verses!! -Tyr

[Balu]

A monument I've raised not built with hands...

A monument I've raised not built with hands,
And common folk shall keep the path well trodden
To where it unsubdued and towering stands
Higher than Alexander's Column.

I shall not wholly die–for in my sacred lyre
My spirit shall outlive my dust's corruption –
And honour shall I have, so long the glorious fire
Of poesy flames on one single scutcheon.

Rumour of me shall then my whole vast country fill,
In every tongue she owns my name she'll speak.
Proud Slave's posterity, Finn, and–unlettered still –
The Tungus, and the steppe–loving Kalmyk.

And long the people yet will honour me
Because my lyre was tuned to loving–kindness
And, in a cruel Age, I sang of Liberty
And mercy begged of Justice in her blindness.

Indifferent alike to praise or blame
Give heed, O Muse, but to the voice Divine
Fearing not injury, nor seeking fame,
Nor casting pearls to swine.

(Aleksandr Pushkin. 1836)

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A monument I've raised not built with hands...

A monument I've raised not built with hands,
And common folk shall keep the path well trodden
To where it unsubdued and towering stands
Higher than Alexander's Column.

I shall not wholly die–for in my sacred lyre
My spirit shall outlive my dust's corruption –
And honour shall I have, so long the glorious fire
Of poesy flames on one single scutcheon.

Rumour of me shall then my whole vast country fill,
In every tongue she owns my name she'll speak.
Proud Slave's posterity, Finn, and–unlettered still –
The Tungus, and the steppe–loving Kalmyk.

And long the people yet will honour me
Because my lyre was tuned to loving–kindness
And, in a cruel Age, I sang of Liberty
And mercy begged of Justice in her blindness.

Indifferent alike to praise or blame
Give heed, O Muse, but to the voice Divine
Fearing not injury, nor seeking fame,
Nor casting pearls to swine.

(Aleksandr Pushkin. 1836)

Aleksandr Pushkin was an amazing poet. He was definitely one of the world's greatest poets in my opinion!
I've read many of his poems but I suspect the are perhaps many more than have not been translated.
He rates tops in my book, my friend..
With this being one of his top poems! -Tyr

[Balu]

Aleksandr Pushkin was an amazing poet. He was definitely one of the world's greatest poets in my opinion!
I've read many of his poems but I suspect the are perhaps many more than have not been translated.
He rates tops in my book, my friend..
With this being one of his top poems! -Tyr

I don't know if you or anybody else is familiar with the oeuvre of A.S.Griboyedov (1795-1829)

https://vk.com/wall-45076869?own=1&offset=320

https://www.stihi.ru/pics/2008/03/25/767.jpg


Here is a monologue from His famous A Four-Act Comedy - 'WOE FROM WIT'
( https://www.stihi.ru/2008/03/25/767 )
In Soviet secondary school it was subject to learning by heart for everybody.



C h a t s k y

I wonder who the judges are !

With age they show hostility to freedom,

They read the press that dates as far

Back as the Crimean war. They call it wisdom.

They're quick to criticize and curse

And always sing the same old song,

They never think they can be wrong.

The older these men are the worse.

Where are those fathers of the nation,

Good models for our generation,

The ones that roll in looted money

With influential friends and relatives on hand?

The ones that feast away their lives of honey

And dwell in houses magnificent and grand?

The houses in which the foul features of the past

Will never be revived by all this foreign caste.

The Moscow they will keep your mouth shut

By sending you a dinner party invitation card.

Or, maybe,

It is the man to whom you used to take me

For a bow when I was a baby?

The leader of outstanding rascals, he

Had a team of loyal servants

That during fight-and-drinking rounds

Had saved his life and honour, but then once

He suddenly exchanged them for three hounds.

And then there is the man, as good as all the others,

He gathered children for his ballet muse

By tearing them away from their mothers.

He set his mind on Zephyrs and Amours

And let the whole of Moscow admire their beauty,

And when it came to setting his accounts

He didn't bother about credits. "Out of sense of duty"

All his Amours and Zephyrs he sold out.

Those are the men that now have grown old and grey,

The men enjoying high respect and estimation.

"They are indeed our fair judges" - you will say.

And if there is a man among the younger generation

That never strives for vacancy nor seeks an occupation

Who sets his mind on science and shows a thirst for knowledge

Or good himself fills him with inspiration

To creativity in art,

They scream: "Disaster! Fire!" and acknowledge

The man to be a dreamer and dangerous at that.

The coat! The coat! They wear it still,

So beautifully made, it used to hide

Their timidness and their flippant mind.

And that's the road that we should take at will.

The wives and daughters, too, affect the coat

And so did I until a while ago.

I'm not an infant now, you know,

On things like that I shall no longer dote.

When some Guard's officers one day

Were on a short time visit here

The women shouted: "Hurrah!"

And threw their bonnets into the air.

F a m u s o v (to himself)

He'll let me down, I'm sure.

(in a loud voice)

Sergey Sergeyich, I shall go,

There in my room for you I'll wait.

(goes out)

[Balu]

Listen!

Listen,
if stars are lit
it means - there is someone who needs it.
It means - someone wants them to be,
that someone deems those specks of spit
magnificent.
And overwrought,
in the swirls of afternoon dust,
he bursts in on God,
afraid he might be already late.
In tears,
he kisses God's sinewy hand
and begs him to guarantee
that there will definitely be a star.
He swears
he won't be able to stand that starless ordeal.
Later,
He wanders around, worried,
but outwardly calm.
And to everyone else, he says:
'Now,
it's all right.
You are no longer afraid,
are you?'
Listen,
if stars are lit,
it means - there is someone who needs it.
It means it is essential
that every evening
at least one star should ascend
over the crest of the building.

By Vladimir Mayakovsky

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The View From A Window

A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves;
Whose rusting hue,
Momentarily ignited by stray
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
Rainbow...
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking
Dawning,
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly
Spills
Into the trickling replenishments
Of many gushing and silvery little
Rills.


Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully
Thinking...
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find,
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its
Back on the social conflicts
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Vice;
Encumbering a soul with its petty
Squabblings,
Imposing upon with demands and
Avarice...
When placing unnecessary burdens
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome
Strife!


And still stood,
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost
Unawares,
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing,
Inattentively stared...
Until...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared;
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
Over
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which,
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate
finality,
Did dejectedly hang, aside the cold
Reveals.

Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

So Soft is the Sonnet of Willows

This is a very long poem and I will understand if you choose not to spend the time reading it.
It is something I wrote a long time ago and I thought I’d just put it out here in case anyone cared to read it.
Thank you, Chris


So Soft is the Sonnet of Willows

Such is the heart of a dreamer
Sought after deep in the mist
Seeking the quest of a thirsting desire
Falling to moments like this

Peering the distant endeavor
Calling the places I’ve known
Sending out visions so endless in wonder
Standing this ledge all alone

Come to my heart always steady
Shape it as how it should be
Teach me the ways of your unending song
Lyrics of comfort to me

Lift me with phrases now spoken
Take from my words on the page
Collections of feelings I wear on my sleeve
Shine me the light of your ways

I am of clay so unmolded
Bend me and shape me to form
Open my heart with the keys of your love
While dying I wish to be born

Caverns so wide as I forage
The depth of their history deep
Shadows that follow the pathways I walk
Stairways my soul it does keep

Yours is my desperate reason
Clinging to every fold
Challenges lie in wake of the storm
Northerly winds flowing cold

I shan’t recoil destinations
My mind it is set on the prize
Temptingly so it does fan every flame
Come I shall soon realize

Time for the moment a danger
Season’s of past now I fear
As I declare my unending longing
Wishing you ever so near

Trapped as I traverse the mountain
Chains of my pain garner tight
Reaching for avenues lost in the fog
Blinded by darkness of night

Soon I will relive the mornings
Joined by a perfect content
Welcoming sunrise as everywhere glows
Finding the hours we’ve spent

Trusting that no one is watching
Holding your hand on the street
Wrapping my arms ‘round your waist for a while
Kissing your lips soft and sweet

Words that will require actions
Motions in spite of the sky
Threatening these clouds overhead as I walk
Waving the past a good bye

Now as my life is beginning
Fortunate flags sure to wave
Sending a secret embedded in stone
Caution for this I do crave

Asking this long winded journey
Steps in the grass for to find
Destiny praises my unfettered wishes
Spent as the heart does unwind

Yours is the hand that I reach for
Save me in spite of my tears
Love me for many more wars shall invade
Filling the future with years

Run with me out to the fields
Keep me in sight at all turns
Paint me with colors so vibrant and true
Teach me for I want to learn

I will not be so untrusting
Pressures no longer to hide
Truth is my shield as it shines ever gold
Honesty I shall confide

Come to my heart it is waiting
Here in this darkened abyss
Shining so bright for your eyes now to see
Reaching for you that I miss

I promise you shall not be sorry
Taking this chance is the key
Found in the corners of thoughts so inspired
True as my covenant be

I whisper my truth through the mountains
Breathless I run to the shore
Hopeful I patiently wait your reaction
Searching for you evermore

Soft is the sonnet of willows
Wavering winds form the streams
Blowing so that you may welcome my peace
Singing the songs of your dreams

Mine is a tiresome journey
Treasures all cast to the bay
Every dollar I’ve owned as a man
Spent in a fortunate way

For this is my precious possession
A heart that does beat from above
Carefully showing the face of the plan
Showering you with my love

Rain on the valley of passion
Rose petal scent brings the breeze
Take from this night the joys of affection
Lingered in fresh memories

This I do pledge, my heart crossing
No longer wishing to die
Rivers of hope that do wash on your feet
Sent forth attempting to try

Cherishing love I am finding
Wanting forever to be
Everything that you do see in your soul
All that’s expected of me

I am but only one person
Doing just what I will do
Being myself in the face of the storm
Sending my love up to you

There is no mask I am wearing
The smile you see is for real
I can not be something that I am not
All of my life I reveal

Hoping that you understand this
Praying my words written of
Things that my heart wants to tell you my dear
Penned now with only my love

Such is the heart of a dreamer
Seeking not silver and gold
My only goalis that you love me true
Just as my dreams have foretold

So soft is the sonnet of willows
Wind through their branches blows free
Whispering dreams evermore shall come true
When you are standing with me



Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017

I just found this great poem this morning. It is a masterpiece in my opinion and that has been said in comments to this poem by over a dozen top poets at my home poetry site!--Tyr

p.s. Now I find THAT this morning one of my newest poems has made Poem Of The Day (POTD).

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Southern Snow

In the dark of night, moon hidden from sight
Large snowflakes in flight and transcending white
Come morning's twilight, ice crystals ignite
They sparkle so bright as sun rays excite
The song birds unite, and softly invite
On the heart it writes , a poet's delight


January 6 2017
Monorhyme- 6 lines 10 syllables per line

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

This so far this is, the best poem I've read, that is entered in that contest.
I have not entered one, as this poetry form, brings no inspiring interests in me.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

realized too late

she thought it was nothing and broke it off,
but despite her feelings, he took it rough.
The love that seemed unforeseen to her,
taunted him each time he dreamed.
Although he did his best to forget,
he hadn’t been able to forget her yet.
Passed his breaking point late one night,
he found a rope and tied it tight.
Not long after he stepped off his bucket,
he was found with a note inside his pocket.
“i will love her until the day i die,”
were his last words and final goodbye.
With that, she realized far too late
that leaving him was her worst mistake.
Struck with grief, she grabbed two bottles.
Orange first, emptied it to the bottom.
She washed ‘em down with the bottle of rum,
his picture in her hand as she went numb.

Copyright © jocelyn honaker | year posted 2017

a new poet at my poetry home site.
Her first poem is impressive, imho!-tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Ashes


Ashes fall like tears of weeping angels to the ground.
Lives were lost and will never be found.

It was when war approached in her heart without a sound.
If she couldn't burn the grief, she would release hell upon this town.
She wore her aching pain like a goddess in a flaming gown.
A queen dressed for battle, she left only her bloodstained crown.
Then her hellish fire was raised burning everything - everyone around.

"Ashes, ashes!"
Were her last words,
"We all fall down."

Copyright © Brianna Wahlquist | Year Posted 2016

An outstanding piece!-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Who Is Your Neighbor

WHO IS YOUR NEIGHBOR

Forty feet high and circumference of six feet, my neighbor is a massive Saguaro cactus
It can be a source of sorrow or safety to wild creatures running in blackness

Probably hundred years old and stands all day in the hot sun unable to run
Sometimes a neighborhood gang of lowlifes will drive by and use it for target fun

It has two arms and stands close enough to its partner that they are hugging
My neighbor is surrounded by many cousins who are jealous of its majestic flowers budding

It starts out as little seedling protected by a nurse tree and now by governments
My neighbor is so popular around here that his cousins are used for yard ornaments

Unfortunately this neighbor is sick from all the exhaust fumes coming from the passing cars
I am happy to claim this green giant as my closest, quietest neighbor so far


SassyLady
09/12/15

Copyright © Miss Sassy | Year Posted 2015

Yes, it is our own Sassylady and this poem has 559 views!!!
I will post others she wrote if she does not mind , as I find every poem she has written there, shows great poetic talent, keen intellect and a very wise and fine heart.-Tyr

[SassyLady]

Yes, it is our own Sassylady and this poem has 559 views!!!
I will post others she wrote if she does not mind , as I find every poem she has written there, shows great poetic talent, keen intellect and a very wise and fine heart.-Tyr

I like this one about cactus better ... I think it's been posted here before.


Enduring the Ages


<center>Endure
Stoic saguaros,
Capture the sunset
Reach for the stars
Shelter creatures near and far
Tell them they are safe here
Regally stand tall and absorb summer rains
Gather rainbows and share the pot of gold
Nourish nubs of life on your massive trunk
For they ensure survival of your bloodline
Hold yourself proudly my desert king
Relish your strength and heritage
Spread your fertile seeds
Kiss the clouds
Always, always,
Endure

</center>Copyright © Miss Sassy (http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet.aspx?ID=68064) | Year Posted 2015

[SassyLady]

Tyr ... did you take note of the word sequence in my poem ... Enduring? It was very deliberate.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Tyr ... did you take note of the word sequence in my poem ... Enduring? It was very deliberate.

Yes I did. That creativity was icing on the cake and readily seen by me.......
When I read poetry I take note of 1.heart and 2. soul first, -- then 3.message,4. beauty, 5. creativity - then -- 6. flow/speed/rhyme(if in rhyme), 7.color/imagery elicited, 8. form and I make a judgment of the 9. poet's intent. These are criteria I use to judge poem.
This poem and its sister cactus poem fill the bill superbly..
As I've stated before, you have the gift my friend...
I encourage you to grow it and to share that gift with others, both here and elsewhere.--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Poem from the heart:

Please don't force me to write another word,
I speak from thy heart as if it was heard,
My pen useless in expressions I find,
Though it stems from every part of my mind.

How can one shift the unmovable force?
While helpless and stranded in this of course,
Speaking from my pen from one point of view,
Is all that I have to give you a clue.

And hoping that my words will shine on through,
Giving you a glimpse of what I hold true,
In such few words, I will not find a way,
But I shall try my best to have my say.

A sonnet I have written words to you,
Poems from my heart, the best I can do.

Copyright © White Wolf | Year Posted 2017

This poet, a good friend of mine -writes with heart, soul and deep messages.
This sonnet tis not meant to awe with flowery language or whimsical words- rather its meant to point to a direct and verified truth!
That poetry is heart, soul, and mind, freely given/presented to others.
True poets(some would say great poets!) write as a gift not as an advancement of personal gain, be that gain wealth , fame or personal satisfaction , IMHO..
Here he acknowledges that sonnets are brief and difficult form to deliver messages in-but that challenge when met- tis a golden treasure to be cherished by those it may please, help and intellectually entertain.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

ALWAYS HAVE HOPE

(For my friend Aisling: da'iman 'amal)


In the night that runs on fear, smile at me.
When nightmares haunt, laugh at me.
When demons show their ugly masks, beam at me.
And always, ever have hope.

When your head is so full it cascades, stare at stars.
As thoughts spill ferociously, softly seek them.
Forget thousands of misplaced words, see glimmers
Of hope, always have hope.

Days where you can't hear your thoughts, listen to music.
Minutes failing to making sense, immerse in singing.
'Seconds' a word without meaning, tune in harmony.
Believe in hope, there always is hope.

When nothing rhymes, you almost lose it,
In darker days, you cannot meet it,
In doubt, despair, or anger, it will elope,
But it will return, not ever lose hope!

***

January 21, 2017

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Exceedingly beautiful and deep.
Hope has saved more people that medicine...
This poet always writes with such talent shown and felt when reading his poems.. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

because of you

i used to be naive, i used to trust
but then that trust just crumbled into dust
the world at large is so unkind, it's true
there is the world at large, and then there's you

you are the one on whom i rest my soul
my naked thoughts reveal without control
you are the one to banish every doubt
to make me see what trust is all about

you are the one i tell each secret fear
the one whose fragrant promise lingers near.
You are the one who knows my hidden ways
who fills with love the moments and the days

you are my fortress sure, my anchored dream
i lie still in your arms in flowing stream
you are the one who loves without degree
the one whose smile erases history

you are the lover's hope given in pledge
a sure security when life's on edge
you are my truth, my strength, my everything
because of you, my heart and soul can sing

eileen manassian

copyright © eileen manassian | year posted 2017

this sweet lady, my friend- is a true poetess.
Such heart and soul she puts into every poem that she writes!! -tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Quatrain

Irish Nectar of the Sun Goddess

This mystical aura of golden radiant sunbeams so sublime
With a warm mead laying lovely below its enchanted neck,
Is breathless releasing gasps of white-hot-fire breaths now,
All spiritual within one and a thousand sighs, it whistles too.

Brightly your radiance shines through the deep blue oceans
Where rainbows are misted with shades inside a desire born,
With curtains falling—revealing a beauty spot held precious,
Whilst in your heart glows warmly a true love priceless pure.

A royal crown bestoweth upon thine mantel of soft ‘n purest silk,
Now spangled as dewdrops glisten brightest on mirrored slippers,
As a divine swan upon one wave began dancing on joyous ripples,
An old Irish jig played on in this moment dancing you and I, as two.

The Merry Old Leprechaun looked on with his wee-soft eye twinkle
As the Sun Goddess giveth her divine breath to this sacred harvest;
Now to beareth the sweetest of fruit with warmest rays of gentleness,
So all can shareth this grandest garden moment of holy eternal glory.

We all shall now, forever and ever, prosper in this heavenly abundance
Whilst we sheddeth a most wee-curious light into this eternal paradise,
As you and I, and the Merry Old Leprechaun shareth a passion so true,
We drinketh gladly the sweet ‘n stout Irish Nectar of the Sun Goddess!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (January 17, 2017)
(Quatrain)

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2017



Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid,
BOTH OF THESE TRUE AND GREAT POETS ARE GOOD FRIENDS OF MINE.-TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Just Love

No flowers or candy can express
the feelings of love I did possess.
Your kind words and your gentle caress
would evoke the greatest happiness.

I could read emotions on your face,
the ones that led to passion’s embrace.
The strings to my heart you could unlace
and time will not these feelings erase.

For now I can only see you smile
when I stare at the clouds for a while.
The love I felt walking down the aisle
made all life’s challenges feel worthwhile.

I need no gifts from a love so true;
I adored you at first sight, first view.
A Valentine’s hug I send to you,
knowing I’ll join you when this life’s through.

January 30, 2017

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Beyond The Breakers

Beyond the breakers, dreamers hoist their sails
Lost in the clouds, on ships of make believe
A stowaway, escaping life's travails
Adventurer, Inventing hearts to thieve

Imagination wakes the inner child
A problem, is an island to explore
An argument, a king to be exiled
Where grown ups, for a moment are ignored

And yet we rarely ever take the time
To let the inner child come out to play
Or watch the clouds in silent pantomime
Act out our fantasies of childhood days

Beyond the breakers new horizons loom
Imagination is your child's playroom


Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

This poet, is truly wonderful.
Imagination, depth, flow , rhyme and message are all stellar..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

BETWEEN FARAWAY DISTANCE is THE POET and I

Treacherous stretches mounds of greens feed fresh the mind. . .

never ever upon a spangled heavens or in seagulls’ crash - hush,
nor on echoed notes of tweeting nightingales did I hear; feel. I find
the need to stop, steadily listen to the drumbeating of my heart.

Vivid is the touch of class brushed unto words, phrases and lines
paraded to thousand eyes to be read; critiqued or appreciated.

Not the lyrics, not the tones, not ev'n verses nor blues could conceal.

His pens, the aroma of spring flowers, sweet! Drawing grins to lips:
his style, maybe common to some but to me: truly, one of a kind.
Speaking softly to my nerves, tickling senses to consider he. . .

Our panache oppose however in seeking depths likeness bursts,
boundless in abandon from fountain of muse, more than amuse.

Not a sonnet, not a kyrielle, not even a haiku nor a tanka could hide.

Unstoppable, the poet and I, our thoughts and feelings fused. Twined
in our inks displayed not only a blooming romance hue. Yes, between us
is a faraway distance, so flagrant - challenging intentions if sincere or not,

but shared portions of rhymes, talks and times won; serving as shapers,
enriching our vows. Not long, the poet and I is wearing golden rings.


Written January 01, 017 (09:55 am)

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2017

Truly wonderful poetess!!!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Mist on the Barrows

***Dedicated to a wise old man
I once knew***
-----" There is no such thing
as death..."
------ an old friend


'O desolate wasteland,
filled not with flowery rushes,
threshing green fields silted,
earthy and ether months;
there can be no solstice,
no progress ----
where the tides are naught

The barrows long for life,
the painter's easel and stroke;
yet not even rainbow shadow
could colors so evoke,
life into thy nostrils -----
English barrow grave;
the dead are not there.....
Saxon King no more.....

Though they are not gone,
for very long;
our hearts be all we have,
among memories,
tides, and song

So do they hearken


Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017

My friend Keith, writes with such depth, style and classic imagery in mind.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Prelude To Your Love, by Nicola Byrne




Prelude To Your Love

To feel your love upon my wanting skin,
Most delicate touch, just once, I crave;
To have your breath, warm, against my chin,
Awaken me from this forgotten grave.

In hope, I wait beneath this night’s illuminated sky,
With the moon our only light and silent witness;
Your whispers will break my every lethargic sigh,
Before enchantment envelops me with that first kiss.

You’ve intoxicated me with your cryptic words,
Now inebriate me with your mysterious scent;
Submerge me in dance until dawn’s call of birds,
Or stay for a day in gloriousness spent.

Bathe me in the fountain of your sweltering passion,
Just one night, I ask, of indulgent obsession.


14th February 2017

Sonnet without syllable restrictions

Copyright © Nicola Byrne | Year Posted 2017

-----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
This poetess has many beautiful poems written in greater length that showcase her massive talents.
I chose this superb sonnet as sonnets are my favorite poetry form.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Poem Ingredients

Many ingredients bake writing inspiration
This recipe combines a stirring sensation:

Heaps of desires never realized
as marinated in teary sore eyes;
Quantities of wide open spaces
caramelized by nature’s appeal;
Ageless genuine emotional traces
sifted thru heart rendered graces;
Equal parts family and romantic love
as roasted within, without and above;
Measured creamed ideals of peace
with blanched pain and battle grease;
Diced wishes braised with thrill
bearing aromas of tangy heat or chill;
Slices of awe from a glorious tree
breaded with traits strong and free;
I do not forget sour spices of greed
dusted with mankind’s violent seed;
A mix of fears dredged in anxiety
with stress jelled in complexity;
and, lastly faith garnished spirit
grown in a soul conscious thicket.
If able, I mix love with ingredients above
before sampling my recipe once warmed up.
If savory, I serve it in Soup’s poetry cup.





... CayCay Jennings
January 20, 2017

Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2017

This exceptional poetess, awes with this piece. I believe this gem was written for a contest.--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Man Who Always Cried

He cried when he was happy,
He cried while he was sad,
He cried when he felt nothing,
He cried while he was mad.

He cried when he saw laughter,
He cried when he saw tears,
He cried when he saw someone
Aged beyond their years.

He cried when he would walk home
From Work every day.
He cried when he had free time,
So he drank it away.

He cried when he was loving,
He also cried alone.
He cried looking in eyes
That, for him, only shone.

He cried out of sorrow,
Empathy, and love.
He cried for the scarecrows
And the pure white doves.

He cried into the night,
And throughout the day.
He cried when he was right,
And knew what to say.

He cried out of reason,
Philosophy, and pain.
He cried himself to madness,
Just from being sane.

Copyright © Bo Vigoren | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Another Winter Star
by Keith O.J. Hunt

I awoke to find the tall splendor of the world,
in those cosmic canyons,
shearing darkness ----
in the pallet of some ethereal night;
ancient with desire.....
to Illume the thick shadow of hades itself

Not death nor mortal doubt
couldst thou flee from me,
mighty as Aphrodite ----
Shooting thy silver smile
beautiful as heaven's promise!

In your shimmering I see hope,
for the heart which beholds thy majesty
the world could fade,
yet you remain.....
a friendly face if none should be found,
but you.....
that thou Creator dost reveal;
my soul,
ageless as thee
(am spun from the same loom)

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Her Swift Chariot I Await

From a swift wind may she return this night,
may the moon delight the path less traveled
and make mighty her heals;
for this tiny flower wan in her meadow,
where lightning rips the skeletal gloom,
(where she knows not which way to heaven) ---
but the Star which shines above forgotten tombs....

How I miss her warmth....
while the night pours melancholy
and the sky thunders forbidden secrets.....

For many a moon shall pass til I have her home;
where it is now all but empty.....
and the clock ticks not for time,
but a cruel, long wait, and ill tidings grin....

Have me faith while the devil licks his lips,
and throws sharp stones,
from a desolate deep dark;

She is mighty with me and I with She,
no death could give us part ---
no gate from hell to keep us apart;
with the strong arms of the Lord,

(her swift chariot I await)


*** A prayer and a plea that my girlfriend has a
swift recovery in the hospital***

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017

THIS SUPERBLY WRITTEN POEM IS BY MY GREAT FRIEND KEITH.
A poet that awes me with his great talent..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Daughter of Oak and Ash

For good, the Druid woods claimed this girl child for its own;
nymphs named the silk-skinned, raven-black of her, Fianna.
This night, she’s hurt hunting demons in her mother’s grove.
She recalls, her fright at five, abandoned in these woods alone.

Nymphs named the silk skinned, raven-black of her, Fianna,
by-blow of a Moor, left as dross in these weird weeping;
she recalls, her fright at five, abandoned in these woods alone.
An adept now, she aids the Weird in its fight with rising hell.

By-blow of a Moor, left as dross in these weird weeping,
raised by the fey, she was taught good from evil well.
An adept now, she aids the glade in its fight with rising hell;
her blessed-onyx points, caste blackhearts from the dell.

Raised by the fey, she was taught good from evil well.
The Blood moon’s rise brings hell’s minions out in droves;
her blessed-onyx points, caste blackhearts from the dell.
Defilers die by her hand and Druid bow bespelled.

The Blood moon’s rise brings hell's minions out in droves.
Rain caught in the leaves revives; moss clots her blood.
Defilers die by her hand and Druid bow bespelled,
as she protects the oak and ash from whispering hell.

Rain caught in the leaves revives; moss clots her blood.
This night, she’s hurt hunting demons in her mother’s grove
as she protects the oak and ash from whispering hell.
For good, the Druid woods claimed this girl child for its own.


First Published by After the Pause

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Nature's Beauty Flows Out To Transcend

Golden soft was the light that swiftly flew,
As whistling rain pelted majestic oaks.
And the soaked birds began to cry for you
As Nature silently wrapped up its cloaks.

Silver Maples fluttering in the wind,
Where the fast sleeping rabbits hid away.
So beautiful, joy found around each bend
With brightened colors, every joyful day.

Thirsty for coming dawn, so bold and new,
In nature’s caress weathered every storm.
I, old and weary with my last years due,
To written legacy my cast transforms.

As Nature's beauty flows out to transcend,
Every life’s journey must come to its end.


Robert Lindley & Teppo Gren
This one, written as a sonnet.


Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 100

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2015

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Meeting
----- by Victor Buhagiar

In the deep silence of the night
When perplexity confuses the mind,
I feel your power descend upon me,
Surrender becomes inevitable
As I become malleable under the hammer of love.

I view you, approach, alone, resplendent
In the pale rays of the dazzling moonlight,
As if you were an enigmatic ghost drawing near
In a flimsy wisp of a whirling nightly mist.
Who are you, I ask myself, Love or Death?

Come closer, come, I'm not afraid,
Sing an echoing mermaid song for me
Or slide into an enticing dance macabre.
I thrive upon such inexplicable endeavours,
Where nocturnal elfin whispers and dreamy antics,
So pleasing to the sensuousness of the mind,
Combine to please the florid sensitive nerves
Of this old, tired and jaded mind.

Victor Buhagiar , 7 June 2016

Truly exceptional poetry...

My good friend Victor , written before his wife died, EARLIER THIS YEAR, FROM A LONG ILLNESS...2017...-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Wolf's View
----------------- by Laura Leiser

I am strong, I am lean
I am part of the restless pack
I am a great wolf on the run
swift of foot and living free.

When I stare at your world
I see fat dogs that look like me.
They don't hunt, they just wait
until you feed them.
When I am hungry, I often
want to eat one.

I work hard for my food
I hunt with the pack
thrill with the chase
the exhilaration
howling with my snout uplifted
thanking the moon in my wake.

Then in sheer exhaustion
I sleep under an open sky
safe in the warmth of the pack
in all kinds of weather
proud and secure with my kind.

Your dogs have human warmth
but have lost their instincts
coddled by humans who are
afraid to put them out at night
afraid they will be cold
afraid they can't survive.

They are not free like me
I am not imprisoned
by soft humans.
I am not soft, nor was I
meant to be soft.

I am a canine, strong and free.




Written on 2/5/2017


Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Pandita Sanchez
Form: Free verse


Sadness - When You're Gone


My darling precious Mama
before you go,
before your last breath is drawn,
I just want you to know
how much I love you so.
Please forgive everything
this errant child of yours has done wrong,
and all the times I disappointed
and let you down.
I can’t help holding on to you,
my Rock of Gibraltar, my strength,
my warrior and defender,
my trustworthy confidante,
even though your time has come
and the Great Spirit is calling you home.
Forgive my selfishness,
my beautiful, brave one,
for I do know you are tired,
your mission here is done,
and you seek eternal rest;
but I don’t want to miss
the sound of your melodious voice
singing old Spanish love songs,
your loving smile, and your wavy,
snowy white hair reflecting the
venerable sage that you are.
What am I going to do, Mama,
without your unconditional
love and support
which keep me afloat
when life tries to pull me down?
My hot tears overflow
like a river swollen with
sadness and grief, just knowing that
I will soon be a motherless child
alone, adrift at sea without you,
my lifeline, my best friend, my hero.
I wish you didn’t have to leave me,
my darling precious Mama.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Seeking Immortal Life

Life extension and rejuvenation
a process aimed at stretching life on earth;
It could become the foremost quest from birth.
But, when age succumbs to curbed duration
concepts tested by acute frustration...
then fragile straws are clutched for all they’re worth
as long as in this world one finds a berth.
Thus, plan ‘B’ is launched: reincarnation.

Is life perpetual fruit of false desire,
such as finding the philosopher’s stone,
latched to the wild allure of wind and fire?
An afterlife assures a lasting zone
where faithful ones eternal joy acquire
beside the Lord on His celestial throne.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This Italian Sonnet consists of an octave with the rhyme pattern
abbaabba followed by six lines with a rhyme pattern of cdcdcd.
Each line is made up of 10 syllables.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest: Form ‘I’ ~ Immortal Theme
Sponsor: Broken Wings
© 1st March 2017

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Italian Sonnet

Kindly read the following verses from the Bible (there is an icon at the left side) for better understanding:
* I Timothy 1:17
* I Timothy 6:16
* Romans 1:18-26
* Romans 5:10
* I Corinthians 15:51-54


Mortal Becoming Immortal
---by Jo Daniel


The immortal, invisible King dwells
in the light to which no man can draw near
But by God's grace immense, He did appear
as a man to die on the cross that tells
of His great love for us. We the mortals
will put on immortality. No fear
we have of death, as long as we live here.
Such infinite love has no parallels.

Yet, men try foolishly to reduce God's
immortality to mortal likeness
of man, birds, beasts and creeping things, in vain;
With God, the creature is being at odds,
Therefore, God too gave up man to vileness,
But, now we're reconciled; Christ's death, our gain.

02/28/17

Rhyme scheme: abbaabba cdecde (10 syllables each line)

Copyright © Jo Daniel | Year Posted 2017

--------------------------------------------
This immensely talented poetess is a good friend of mine.
I have never read a poem written by her that was not top quality work!!-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Hybronnet |


Heartache
------------- by Suzanne Delaney

Narrow grows the infinite sky
In mind a list of all who've gone
before - years passed- so quickly by
Enough to prejudice the dawn
And little joys and larger griefs
Consumed our hearts and minds at will
Dared us to question our beliefs
Until that moment we grew still....
What was then our consolation?
Heaven loomed, larger than before
Paradise a mere fixation
with death too final to ignore

Nirvana, everlasting Eden
Heaven waits beyond all reason

2/9/17

For Broken Wings Form H

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Free verse

a new beginning

with each crest of a wave
forming white crystal peaks
she weeps, inhales, let's go.

beneath a star studded vista
a resplendent guiding light
arms open, palms up, she is free.

the soothing sea winds
carrying away her grief and sorrow
hands posed in devotion, she smiles.

in a seascape of serenity
her baptism place of choice
she steps forward, her new beginning.


02-17-2017

Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Couplet |

Like A Ghost

Deep within the darkened halls of my mind I search each memory of love not meant to be.

Where love shone bright but now has left only tattered webs of pain and sorrow for me.

Lost and left behind to wander aimlessly, to feel the viperous sting of what once was, now no more.

To know of love's beauty and tenderness and passion between two hearts and all scars that it bore.

Like a ghost forever to wander these empty halls whaling for love's lost memories day and night.

Forgotten, forsaken this ghost with a broken heart, invisible, just an empty memory in plain sight.

Copyright © Mary Hoose | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

ode to the little one

"ode to the little one"

on this night I sit and stare
to my surprise such illumination I see

a glorious clear black sky
countless shining stars
showing themselves for hopes and dreams

such glitters this night know not why
they reveal no resolve for my life or path
in my heart I know they're placed for me
they whisper your strength is true
giving recognition of pain gone through

I continue to stare and hear their call
both sky and star tell me to ask not why
why black clouds and life have neglected me
tenderly whispering this you are not defined

I see the changing sky as moments pass
ever gently it moves and shifts back to me
telling me worry not little one you're never alone
never have you been or will be

one day all will be answered and revealed
until then hold strong be strong be you
continue on little one through pain or tears

SkyWatcher - 03-06-17


the above entry was inspired and dedicated to the
"Little One" and "Lost Childhood" series written by Darren White

Darren I hope I wrote with honor and dignity to your series
and to the "Little One"

there are no words to express the beauty of such a series shared by you

Copyright © Lisa Ricci | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

After We're Gone

After we're gone.....
do we turn out the light -----
or will we hear our names whispered upon the wind?

After we're gone.....
does the midnite moon still stir the soul,
or the seasons still invite us to never be alone;

Do the birds still sing in the trees.....
Do harmonies of life seize to be.....
Can I feel her love still in a quiet breeze,
assured that I am?

For can history bare a great book -----
with all our names,
a record, a final log -----
that we were,
(at all) ?

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 201

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Southern Beauty

https://soundcloud.com/kentucky-gal/2014-09-27-09-15-43717a

How sweet is the southern beauty of a country rose blossom today.
Soft scents that float gently on the breeze through trees that sway.

With bare feet I wander country roads through heavenly display.
Across the emerald meadows on hills where butterflies play.

Skirt held high above knees in crystal waters of the creek I wade.
Sun kissed cheeks, rosy red as I lay 'neath the big oak trees shade.

I gaze up into the great cathedral of blue high above me.
In awe as downy white clouds float lazily along for me to see.

Like tiny feathers from heaven cherry blossoms fall to the ground.
Whilst off in the distance I hear the lonesome train whistle sound.

Quietly I watch a family of deer so shy as the tree line they grace.
Whilst the lonesome sound of the whippoorwill puts a smile on my face.

So thankful am I that these brown eyes can see.
This heavenly picture God has painted for me.

Copyright © Mary Hoose | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Beneath this soft...dark silent sky

Beneath this soft…dark silent sky
as starlight teardrops weep
in moon glow feathered sonnets…
my heart waits
~
Clinging to every hope,
laced of tiny woven dreams
now filtered through weary eyes
and worried sighs
~
Collecting each moment shared
within my weathered hands…mixed
with essence of rose petal and
meadowlark song
~
Woven together in melodic patterns,
colorful arcs on golden horizons
bidding me a good evening while
riding in on the sweetest of mystic zephyrs…
~
as another tear paints my cheek
in transparent worry
and desperate longing for that day
when your happiness reappears
~
For here sits my whispered wishes,
behind tufted clouds of life,
touching me with poetic joy,
allowing me to exhale freely
~
Beneath this soft…dark silent sky
as starlight teardrops weep
in moon glow feathered sonnets…
where my heart waits…for your smile

Good Night Soupers



Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017

My good friend Chris, has hit a home run with this free verse composition..
Magnificent verses!!! -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

the soul wanderer



late at night as the sun begins to fade out of view

the flowers of the field send their scent to me

within each petal droplets of watery dew

and dusks of mettle gray and saffron glee;




on cellophane wings i propel in free

towards nature's nook and keep

each tree appears to summon me


towards the lair of old, i sink then steep

inside the perfume of the night,


where i can almost smell the light....





The end.


Written for: Alex, "soul wanderer"


by: Mystic rose


march 20 2017

copyright © mystic rose | year posted 2017


this poetess, my friend-is a truly great artist...-tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Gypsy for Aries
------------------ by Keith O.J. Hunt


***( Inspired from a story I heard of a bitter Greek military officer torn between

love and duty; he would not run away with her,

so she ran away from him....)




The last dance tonite....

waltzing with me,

this gypsy woman with wild eyes

and a devilish smile;

She would not let me go....

nor the kiss of her wines,

her touch teased....

and lingered,

Yet she danced and tore away,

where the moon had spun her allure,

and candles were blazing

wild with sweet-west winds,

On a night-boat then we sat,

and floated to some bright shore;

her eyes many moons of love,

her hair flowed with a velvet mood....

But a heart wan with thorn and accusation,

and dance no more she would,

though with bedroom gaze

she touched as Venus;

a silk gown to beckon ----

on stardust we could climb

some celestial stairway,

make love for the ages....

forsake the sword in its bloodied sheath,

Though the gods would grumble ----

the universe would wed us long before war,

'ere Venus could whisper its name.....

Yet it is but a dream;

for men must make heroes of devils,

and kings must rule, and accuse

(and gypsies must trick old fools....)

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2015
------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------

As always, my good friend and fantastically talented poet, Keith Hunt, has written top flight and eloquent free verse poetry!-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Poet's Notes
(Hide)

Inspired by Jerry T. Curtis "I Need a Cup of Seuss" Poetry Contest: 1 original, poem on the theme of "You are sitting in 'The Cat In The Hat' restaurant, I am your waiter-----what would you like to order----



".
Please, Pull Up a Chair

I’d like you to bring me a dinner for two -
A serving for me and a serving for you.
I’ll order up something that we two can share.
Please bring it, then sit with me! Pull up a chair!

We’ll start with a salad. I hope you won’t mind
this salad will be of the specialty kind,
the kind made of rainchokes and fiddlehead roots,
and topped with wassava and sharkflower shoots.

And after our salad, we’ll have the main dish:
some Teek Bourguignon, or lardines if you wish
See, it just doesn’t matter what food that we eat,
as long as you join me! Please, pull up a seat!

Then after our meal, some dessert will be nice;
I’ll order us up some sweet cragberry ice!
We’ll top it all off with some coffee flown in
especially from the small island of Dwin.

I’ll thank you, dear waiter, for serving my needs;
I’ll tip you with plenty of Dol-yapper seeds
For, you see, I don’t eat alone, not anywhere!
So bring it, then sit with me! Pull up a chair!

Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2017

She did a wonderful job channeling Dr. Seuss!-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Sun Will Soon Shine Again


Do not drown in your sorrow,
This dark storm is not the end,
Look forward to tomorrow,
This cloud too shall pass, my friend;

It's difficult, I agree,
To stop thinking of the past,
Those memories won't just flee,
Give it some time, not so fast;

Hold on to the True Anchor,
The sun will soon shine again,
Jesus, the Light, when darker,
Does comfort you, so brighten;

In your deepest pain of grief,
Look to Him and find relief.


03/06/17

Copyright © Jo Daniel | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Natures Gift



It's how the stars are lit at night
and how the dew drops glisten
How evening shadows mock the light
and it's how the silence listens

From the gentle sway of trees
that bid such fond adieu
Songs in a summer breeze
a voice so clear, so true

The glory of such symmetry
so more than fills the eye
To the beauty of such poetry
this hopeful heart draws nigh

In natural peace all love is born
To live and thrive each blessed morn

03/14/2017

Poem Of The Week of 3/19/2017
Best New Poem of the Month 4/01/2017

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2017

A truly exceptional sonnet written by a kind, remarkable and humble poet. A friend that I appreciate greatly!-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Cloud Weavers

Little child
Your tiny hands hold a little flower
Delicately, you start weaving a story about peace
In your gentleness, you understand how happiness works
It is the sanctuary of warm softness in the heart
Free of all clouds and stormy weather

Little feet
You walk on soft white sand
Eagerly, you pull yourself up after each fall
In your curiosity, you discover what makes you happy
It is the freedom of making your own choices
Unconstrained by necessity or fate

Little heart
You embrace everyone without judging
Innocently, you follow the impulse of your instinct
In your imagination, you build the foundation of harmony
It is the pillar of mutual acceptance
Co-existing with different beliefs

Now, a grown young man
Your hands are no longer soft and delicate
In your journey, you learn how betrayal works
Painfully, you slip and fall each time
It is the feeling of deep hurt in the heart
That pushes you forward

Now, a capable man
You walk on a long winding path
In your trial and error, you finally grasp the true nature of humans
Disappointedly, you sigh at the people who create war
And those who instill hatred in today's youth
It is the sense of rightness that moves you

Now, a man of experience
You let your thoughts flow upon paper
Dipped in the ink of blood, words continue to flourish
Seamlessly, you integrate your enchanting imagery
With the blessings of God's living water
You paint a ladder of inspirations reaching the horizons

Seeds of the new generation
They are dreaming of a better future
Far from the opening chambers of blind heartaches
Those who drowned in the darkness of their moonshine spirits
Burning sinners and hypocrites
Drunken smartass slurring in a poetic oxymoron slang

Evil minds
Your eyes grin when you take away lives
It is the cold heartless stare that you exude
Until your victims' breaths leave their bodies
The demons in you rejoice in your attachment to them
Your souls are no longer your own

Unfilled vessels
The windows of your souls are sealed off
You have fenced yourself in to keep out the goodness
Spitting in Love's face, you bow to your Demon God
It is the hatred that you cling onto
When you weave long threads of recorded bad memories

Unforgiving gale
It approaches with a full force
Floors tremble and vibrate
When the houses break, it will be swift and inevitable
It is an unstoppable vortex of good and evil
A battle of hurling vile obscenities

Demon possessed
You will curse everything holy swearing lies
Sweet talking arrogance with no bounds
Under a thousand points of light
So blind becomes the beggars vision of a predator
Rattling through the cages of time

Death holds a beating pulse
Harsher than physical wounds exposed
Pain burns the poker scorching hot inside empty skulls
They curl their tongues in mockery of life
Cultivating a culture of takers and pranksters
Givers are now doomed and deemed foolish

Where do we go from here?
Stuck in past mindsets, the old must find a way
To break the mold and make peace
The young and new blood should never give up
On peaceful tolerance and forgiving love
Let bygones be bygones, start now with peace

a co write by liam mc daid and Angeline Lim

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

There Lies Art

The easel beholds a half finishing painting
The paints beside have all hardened
Pain reflected in the partial emptiness
Staring back at that gathered crowd

The sun melts on the canvas page
Creation explained in elapsed rage
Notions and pleas from dried paintbrushes
Strewn across the almost barren floor

One to the other in whispered voice
I wonder if this would have been his choice?
Empty wine bottles twirling in light
Beside the dead body, a painting just right

There lies Art
In repose
His final painting
His last prose

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

From my good friend Arthur Vaso, comes this gem.---Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Lovers Kiss



A wordless song drifts from your eyes
with rhyme disguised in poems lost
from heavens smile your heart replies
assuming risk, no fear the cost

You dare not weep to dampen dreams
but pledge to take this hand of chance
no less from love this passion streams
in turn of fate not circumstance

Left breathless from a lovers kiss
this treasure found its place in time
a pleasure true, no more than this
not once rehearsed in pantomime

Within each heart pure beauty lives
When fancies flight is there to give

04/04/2017

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2017


A beautiful sonnet by my good friend Charlie Smith.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

In The Rain Forests


Here I sit so all alone
Sometimes it’s scary on my own
In the silence of rain forest land
This stillness I don’t understand
So many noises I do hear
It seems that danger’s always near
The night is black it’s hard to bare
All those mysteries out there

This jungle training ain’t so grand
For death might takes me in its hand
Anything could happen here
The enemy they could be near
Waiting just to cut me down
My face it wears a frightened frown
I want to go back to my bed
Where I don’t hear those demon treads

Oh, please I cry to God above
As I try to find the sky above
I’ve had enough of this cruel war
Oh, what is this some, creatures roar
All I see is darkness here
Darkness, and heart filled with fear
Please my lord let me go home
No more let me these forests roam

Copyright © Peter Duggan | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Your Favorite Song - You and Me



Oh that’s you and me

“You and me were always with each other,
before we knew the other was ever there”

Destiny carves its path through lives,
filling needs unknown until it happens
Bridging gaps of empty terrain
where love belongs eventually
as our hearts wait for that one we feel
on the journey

“You and me we belong together,
just like a breath needs the air”

So many comparisons play,
moving pieces to spaces, uncovered
Sliding down chutes, climbing ladders,
sensing that something waits, something good
Inspired to keep going, following the lines
drawn in tingles on skin

“I told you if you called I would come runnin’,
across the highs the lows and the in betweens”

You’ve taken my hand and showed me
things are not always as they seem
Until you find them in your shadow,
lifting you when you fall,
caressing your soul in unexplained notions,
safety and comfort with merely a touch

“You and me we’ve got two minds that think as one
and our hearts march to the same beat”

Your eyes, my eyes, we see similar patterns
curving about skylines of melodic tempos
As we walk together, one step after the other,
but two steps always for the other
in whatever direction they choose,
syncopated movements hand in hand

”They say everything it happens for a reason,
you can be flawed enough but perfect for a person”

These scars of past seasons, cold winds blow
across arid deserts of details and misgivings
Cloaked in love’s blanket, accepted beyond yesterdays
Put away in box with a lock, no key is available
and neither would want it anyway

”Someone who will be there for you when you fall apart,
guiding your direction when you’re riding through the dark”

This light that leads, from your smile, your understanding,
your acceptance that I reflect back as a mirror
Enhancing the beam of this forever feeling,
Strolling down avenues of pleasure for
happiness is always a two way street

”Oh that’s you and me…”

4/4/17

The italicized lines are lyrics from one of my favorite songs, “You and Me” by Pink and Dallas Green off the Rose Ave album.
https://youtu.be/TUYleIXgceQ

For the “Your Favorite Song” poetry contest
Sponsored by: Alexis Y.


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017

My friend Chris, a very talented young poet, composed a great entry for that , your favorite song, contest...-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Salvation seeps in the mist

And as light fades
awe sings in temporal sonnets
while goldenrod flits the fields
and lavender scents joyful whispers

for here neath this shadowy creature,
Point Percee revels,
wonder dances on cobblestones
and voices are lifted beyond horizons

as this warrior of scalloped wing
and fire brand culls the night skies
sweeping enchantment in place of fear,
taken from the last war

Salvation seeps in the mist
where lost sons had fallen and once again
risen within the flames of life,
breaths of cast dreams
where heroes fly and all is well

With torches raised high,
embers of elation flicker on soft winds
illuminating cheers and celebrations
in the name of the knight
and his fearless collaborator


5/1/17
Written for the Collaborated Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper

A link to Eve’s poem we were to collaborate with
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_dragon_of_haute_savoie_894917


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017

This is true poetic talent gleaming!!!!
My friend Chris, composes a genuine gem, IMHO..-TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

THE POET
--- by Danielle

Quietly across a desk sits The Poet
The thoughts race through his mind
The trees will stir, the valley glistens
The Poet has stories for any who'll listen

In a troublesome world rests The Poet
Life keeps moving forward in an accelerated pace
New lives are created while others shall end
The Poet's heart must repeatedly mend

One constant is the work coming forth from The Poet
He knows his audience depends on his verse
His writing provides a path from his soul
The Poet continues to reach for his goal

What seeketh he, my good friend The Poet
Why must he keep on through heartache and sorrow
It's best not to ask, answers won't be forthcoming
The Poet must keep writing to aid in the numbing

From the pen of a -- VERY YOUNG AND TALENTED NEW POETESS.. :clap::clap::clap::clap::clap:--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Presenting a double today-both are great and very talented poet friends of mine ,which I have collaborated with in the past.-Tyr




The Black Dragon
----- by Keith O.J. Hunt

So arid this desert....

where the tumbleweeds blow,

and the snake makes his nest;

not a dry deed could wet the lips of desire,

and raise from dead things ---- life

with war and antiquity ----


The mummy cannot speak....

but mumbles evil ----

'Gold! Gold!'

....'til it runs out.....


The 'long' arms of the law

haven't even banged upon the devil's front gate;

the 'laissez-faire' ----


Though the bombs drop like tear(drops)

in the darkest corners of the world,

to picnic on the first day of war,

and gorge upon peace.....


Little Illuminati generals.....

pawns for the great hog upon his throne;

who has waged death upon the whole world,

.....shadows deep (with sable scale)

black dragon keeps his poised tail

to crush the school of man;


To reverse the footprints of Christ,

and the wisdom of Buddha,

and the glorious faith of Mohamed ----


The churches are failing fast for the 'written' word,

and not the fire in the heart;

where God forged wisdom to all men,


And not the scroll which does not breathe,

cannot see,

cannot stop the bombs from dropping.....


For how can all the world preach peace ----

with a pistol 'neath its thickest pillow?


Love has no cause to be afraid,

to mistrust like a nervous wind,

and blow accusations where it may.....


What cannot be harmed has no need to attack,

but sits upon the lap of faith,

assured in its security ----


To build evolution on the lips of children,

for their minds see wonder in God's creations

and hope in the growing,

with little flowers in their soft thoughts.....

and new whims in innocent joy;


We have learned to love what we once could not,

' White Swan Black Swan, ' clemency ----

Equality.... but a nudge she claims the throne,

a Queen most fair to sting the dark dragon eyes,


Where eternity shall not echo his name

nor (all) the children tend his darkling tomb,

for he peered too long into the eyes of the abyss,

with one eye open.....


Sleep dragon! Sleep!

death is upon thee like the night in thy armor!

slip into the caverns of the deep,

and be no more.....

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014


Keith never fails in delivering his unique and beautiful style of top class poetry.--Tyr



************************************************** ************************************************** *****************************

Dancing with the Devil

Lost between the borders of heaven and hell,
confusion led to this story, one must tell.
Surrounded by a world full of violence,
I closed my eyes and took a vow of silence.

Wondering if this life was even real,
weird chills and shivers, one began to feel.
Suddenly a figure appeared in a shroud,
in silence, his words echoed ever so loud.

He said:
"If you dare, come closer and take a chance,
won't you give me the pleasure of one dance?
Do not fear for I am not violent,
why are you the one who is silent?"

I replied:
"Why should one become your willing dancer,
so that you can fill my mind with cancer?
You are nothing but a ferocious beast,
go now, upon my soul you shall not feast."

He laughed:
"I know all about your hidden schemes,
I'm the one who can bring you your dreams."
Thou shall not sin, come leave this humdrum city,
let me show you a life, ever so pretty.
Can't you see we are all the same breed,
they will all follow if you plant my seed."

Louder and louder his words would repeat,
effecting the rhythm of my heart beat.
This was no simple case of confusion,
for this image was causing delusion.
Then again, life can become an illusion,
when one chooses, a life full of seclusion.

I replied:
"I must decline this dance you want so badly,
for you this poem will end, rather sadly.
For, I seek a path of peaceful harmony,
my soul cannot sing with you in symphony.
Nothing here for you, so be on your way,
this time your words shall not lead me astray."

Scorned he left with a sly grin on his face,
vowing to return again to this place.
Inside, something that day seemed to have died.
Resisting temptation filled me with pride.

For him this was just a sinister game,
but, I could never live a life of shame.
After all I was my mother's son,
strong - after all had been said and done.

The Silent One
1 May 2017

A TRUE GEM FROM MY GOOD FRIEND SILENT ONE.
Having written poems in collaboration with him I know he is incredibly talented and a kind and most generous gentleman!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Hoping the flowers bloom
--- by Chris Green

Sifting through my day,
withered masses of an old heart
searching in the wrong corner,
dreaming in muted grays on a white background,
wandering through the garden
of my every lost dream,

hoping the flowers bloom . . .
and I get to see them

Long hours only offer relief
when I look past the walls
formed around my smile so long ago,
they are now only a faded memory
flickering in and out,
losing clarity

Then out of nowhere comes a light,
so brilliant, beautiful, electrifying
I can only stare and wonder,
is this for me to keep,
or dare I say . . . to love?
Love, now that’s a laugh

Love only finds those who deserve it
and those signs have long since
pointed a different direction
But a voice speaks otherwise
a soft tone, a sweet noise I’ve not heard
or imagined . . .

When whispers of affection from her
fall upon my ears . . . my ears?
Like I am something, somebody, and it feels good
even if it is still hard to believe
And I feel tears forming, could this be happiness
I ask, when there before my misted eyes

The flowers are blooming . . .
and I can see them
--------------------------------------------------------
I found this great poem to be a true gem written in free verse, by my friend Chris..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Ember's Pride Made An Ash Out Of Him

-------------------- David Pekrul

There he sat among the ashes, thinking he was, oh, so good,
Just a tiny glowing ember that was once a piece of wood,
And he thought that he was better than the embers there that day,
But, alas, he didn't know that soon his pride would turn him gray.

There were many other embers that were crowding out his space,
They were vying for attention and were trying to keep the pace,
He believed they were a nuisance and he felt they were a pain,
And he knew that they were jealous, and it rubbed against his grain.

"I'm an ember in the ashes and I'm burning hot inside,
I've a reason to be boastful and to feel such awesome pride,
For the others here beside me are just living off my heat,
I'm the one who is important; in myself I am complete."

So he sparkled and he crackled and he told them all to move,
For he thought he didn't need them and he had a thing to prove,
So they rolled into the centre and they left him on the side,
And his glowing heart got bigger and it filled him up with pride.

Very soon he seemed to notice such a change inside of him,
For his glowing heart grew weaker and his light was getting dim,
But the others who had left him were still glowing bright and strong,
What had happened to this ember; could it be that he was wrong?

"I'm an ember in the ashes, but I'm feeling very weak,
I once thought I had a future, but it's looking rather bleak,
And the ones who I rejected are still glowing hot and bright,
Now I think I was mistaken and that they were truly right."

Now the tiny little ember, all alone and getting cold,
Sits among the lowly ashes and is feeling not so bold,
And the pride that once he harboured, that would make him spark and flash,
Has betrayed him in this moment and has turned him into ash.

--submitted to Be Didactic poetry contest - May 07, 2017

Copyright © David Pekrul | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

SEDUCTION OF THE SIREN SISTERS

Tarkay lids of merlass
Royal purple hue
Smooth glass surface
Sea of gemstone blue

~

Siren sisters taunt the sailors
Weaving in and out of looms
Seductive creatures with lyres
Luring the lustful to their tombs

They didn’t heed the gentle merlass
The whispers of the foamy sea
Their greedy eyes now single minded
Caught in a seaweed net - not free

Courageously the merlass tries to cut the ties
Siren sisters just increase their blinding noise
A plectrum choir captures lolling tongues
Ahoy sailors! They're no longer men - but boys

Mild merlass looks away from the frenetic fish
Her wild rose eyes notice a face, sweet as a kiss
One who's not succumbed to the scum of the sea
Like an ear to a clamshell, her heart pounds out bliss

~

Tarkay lids of merlass
Royal purple hue
Smooth glass surface
Sea of gemstone blue


Kim Rodrigues (c) 2017

Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2017

Another one of the truly great poets, Kim Rodrigues, from my home poetry site wrote this magnificent poem..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Coffee and Morning Kisses


You loved yours black and strong;
I remember, you’d tease my craving
for milk and sugar...
you said it's because I'm so sweet.

We’d wake with the sun,
sit together on the front porch
warm our hands,
wake our sleepy eyes..

You accused me of needing coffee
more than your morning kisses -
I proved you wrong.
I will always prove you wrong.

Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2017

Written by my friend, a very beautiful and exceptionally talented poetess.-Tyr

[Russ]

The Ember's Pride Made An Ash Out Of Him

-------------------- David Pekrul

There he sat among the ashes, thinking he was, oh, so good,
Just a tiny glowing ember that was once a piece of wood,
And he thought that he was better than the embers there that day,
But, alas, he didn't know that soon his pride would turn him gray.

There were many other embers that were crowding out his space,
They were vying for attention and were trying to keep the pace,
He believed they were a nuisance and he felt they were a pain,
And he knew that they were jealous, and it rubbed against his grain.

"I'm an ember in the ashes and I'm burning hot inside,
I've a reason to be boastful and to feel such awesome pride,
For the others here beside me are just living off my heat,
I'm the one who is important; in myself I am complete."

So he sparkled and he crackled and he told them all to move,
For he thought he didn't need them and he had a thing to prove,
So they rolled into the centre and they left him on the side,
And his glowing heart got bigger and it filled him up with pride.

Very soon he seemed to notice such a change inside of him,
For his glowing heart grew weaker and his light was getting dim,
But the others who had left him were still glowing bright and strong,
What had happened to this ember; could it be that he was wrong?

"I'm an ember in the ashes, but I'm feeling very weak,
I once thought I had a future, but it's looking rather bleak,
And the ones who I rejected are still glowing hot and bright,
Now I think I was mistaken and that they were truly right."

Now the tiny little ember, all alone and getting cold,
Sits among the lowly ashes and is feeling not so bold,
And the pride that once he harboured, that would make him spark and flash,
Has betrayed him in this moment and has turned him into ash.

--submitted to Be Didactic poetry contest - May 07, 2017

Copyright © David Pekrul | Year Posted 2017

Really nice poem

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

In This Sky of Night
------------------------Andrea Dietrich

I look at shining stars in cobalt sky
with just one wish to make on only one
of billions of them in this Galaxy
where we're just one small planet with a sun!

And as I gaze, my mind is taking flight:
Beyond the moon and through the milky way,
we’re holding hands and soaring through a night
of fantasy on beautiful display!

We fly past Jupiter’s four rings of dust,
then far away to Pluto. Yes, we dare!
We circle back. How cold Mars is. We must
warm up near Venus. Is Love’s goddess there?

It matters not; my heart is ruled by YOU,
and in this sky of night, dreams can come true!


May 7, 2017 for Shadow Hamilton's The Night Sky Sonnets Only Contest

A sonnet using the following required words: Shin(e)ing, Moon, Star/s, Planet, Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Pluto and the Milky Way

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017

Andrea is a very talented poetess, that I am honored to call a friend...
That she wrote such a fine sonnet when sonnet are not her usual poetry form shows her immense talent, IMHO.--TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Remember Her

I always liked the way she played with her hair....
across from the vast expanse of the bed,
legs up, with her back against the wall,
I saw what she felt....
and she could hold me with her deep angel-eyes ----
oogle me to stare long, or leap upon her wondrous teases;

It was a time to play in some boy-girl laughing land,
some 'gentile' course devoid of the harsh of the world,
she too lovely for such petty,
too splendid with one wave, with one anointed gaze
my darker footsteps fade....
no pain to clutch in her most welcome arms ----
the world could wait....
ten thousand years,
I've longed such love more infinite with me (now soft),
she of fine recipes and finer whims to tickle the itch
in my soul,
the immediate meld of our hands,
shall need no other assurance

" I am here, always, " she breathed upon the cold steps,
winding through life crooked with doubt
.....how monolith her mist sifts sweet upon frozen winds,
and warms my sullied heart ----
that fades.....fades fast while she's amiss!
how empty this old urn without her ----
dead my able bones,
and the heart which my melancholy makes,
helpless, sick with deeper wans,
greater-goods shall not prevail this lame steed for long

Though I best remember her and smile,
and call the good of it my memory has found,
eased with her sweet-lovely ----
but too sweet for one mighty man,
and her wings swift with silken downs,
o'er the flowered hills;
she goes, this bird of gypsy will,
her flight crimson til dusk;
this dove she flew but once,
and her affections have been awhile....
the tear is long and its drip dire,
though I shall try to remember her
(and smile)



***Based on a movie I saw,(though some
of it comes from pleasant recollections(lol!)
very sad, but she returns in the end!***

Written in 2014



Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017

This superb poetry is from my great friend and one of the very best Romanticism poets that I know, Keith Hunt.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Night's Enchantment

As light escapes, the lustrous moon ascends
a prelude to the majesties of night
with shining constellations that transcend
and shooting stars that burn with heaven's light.

Night's canopy unfurls our galaxy
with planet earth along the milky way
to join its glory, orbiting so free
unique with life abundant, grand display.

As Jupiter and Mars round sun again
along with Venus, Pluto in its wake
this requiem of solar dance began
in ages past, by God for His own sake.

Galactic glories' gleaming reverie
in interstellar, perfect harmony.



Written on 5/15/2017
For Night Sky-Sonnets Only Contest


Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

She Wept In Languished Moan

She wept as they buried her one true love.
Each day thereafter she brought him a rose,
the flower she knew he was fondest of.
Her grief unbearable, beyond repose.
What pain and suffering his death bestows.

Nothing prevented her daily visit.
She didn't want him to feel all alone.
When beside him her face was exquisite.
When weary she would sigh and then lay prone,
weeping for her love in soft languished moan.


23rd of July 2016
Two Stanzas - Two Only Contest-Broken Wings
This is an English Quintain, 10 syllables per line
with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-b

Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016

This poetess, my friend is so massively talented. Her works are always top-flight and meaningful.
I greatly admire her poetry and her character..-Robert

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Form: Free verse

The Thunder Kings
----by Keith O.J. Hunt

The rains had come and washed away the old world,
the thunder had banged its drum
with a weary warning ---
' I do not come oft, but I return and weep
and growl a lion's roar ' ---
I will for a brief moment be as a child
and fear again...
the cracks and booms rouse my guilt,
Telemachus would say the gods were going mad...

There is something 'neath the earnest
thunder-drums which bangs
something-wicked-this-way-comes ---
and fades,
gently rolling away like a sonic carpet

Its change I welcome,
and fear,
and wonder if I was afraid at all,
wonder what deathly grip may one day come ---
suddenly,
or love may guide me through its tumult,
and dark valleys,
with flowers blooming 'neath my faithful feet;
and though I was once afraid
like a boyhood fear ---
startled from my very boots,
I shall miss my old friend thunder,
who reminds I'm quite alive,
and survived I have,
his treacherous thunderclaps,
and his sneaky ways,
my great trickster
(Thunder!)

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017

My great friend and sometimes also writing partner Keith, has written a top class free verse with this fine gem !!! -TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/fate_and_destiny_903706


Fate and Destiny

How mischievous those goddesses of fate
That bend our paths toward our destiny
They tempt us, setting traps, with diff'rent bait
Like fools, we complicate simplicity

Each turn we take is draped in mystery
A lucky choice builds up our confidence
Then fate reminds us, oh so subtlely
Again, we're on the wrong side of the fence

The twists and turns of life offer suspense
We see our big break up around the bend
But fate knows that for love, there's no defense
Next thing you know, you've turned down a dead end

Fate has control of destiny it seems
Don't let that stop you chasing down your dreams



by Daniel Turner
Spenserian sonnet: abab bcbc cdcd ee



Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

A truly fine sonnet by my friend Daniel.
As he notes, do not let perceptions of Fate's immense power stop you from pursuing your dream--for even your dreams may be -- Fated..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Crimson Touch
--by Nicola Byrne

Opalescent eyes
Into the depths you drag your prey.
With that crimson touch
You exsanguinate all you caress,
Sinking your teeth
Into the most vulnerable flesh,
Gnawing at the bones
To ease your hunger.

Sitting
Waiting
Like a stone.
Ego creating
Your needed throne.
Hoping next time
She’ll have no claws,
Perception
Stealth
Or vicious jaws.

Consume all
That comes your way

Alone you’ll be
Alone you’ll stay

In darkness
You shall never see
That light breeds life
And love grows free

5th June 2017

Copyright © Nicola Byrne | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

CATCHING SIGHT OF OUR BAY


Against a dome where moonlight gleams,
bushes quiver and clear waters drift --
that in this land of the pine
where forest trails meet, I descry
the mystic bay slither with intimacies
of our lost youth, of our love breathing:

The evening climbs as if I need not grow old--
for dreams take me back, memorizing how
we rolled through the fields, down through the vine.
Quietly , I discover the wonder that flows
from our town river, shimmering once more.
With the thrill of a new dawn ,
yesteryear’s affection lures me where I
still belong ... while you, my dear
fade behind night’s shadows.

Rob Carmack's Contest: Decry
5/24/2017

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2017

--------------------------------------------------------------------

This gem is yet again more proof to me that this poet is the best poet at my home poetry site..
Regardless of which poetry form she uses the presentation is always superb..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Depression
----- Charlie Smith

Unending darkness floods the skies
alone in dreams my heart must weep
no words are spoken or even cried
such silence lives where shadows sleep

My pleas just echo off the stillness
my tears find no comfort as they fall
my hope stands as a martyred witness
I pin no exit from this pall

Turn your head and spare no time
leave greater credence to lesser thoughts
take what is said in this poor rhyme
add to your bed of forget-me-nots

Think only of what should have been
No lesser loss, this mortal sin.

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2017

----------------------------------------------

MY GOOD FRIEND, CHARLIE NAILS THIS ONE. --Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Sea Gulls Came Home
------------- by Victor Buhagiar

The horizon was brewing ominous clouds,
Dark as if they came out of hell.
The once azure sky became hazy
As the north wind chilly breezes
Puffed up more stratocumulus,
Rain-heavy clouds that signified storms.

I rested against the balustrade
Of the promenade, looking down at the sea.
Waves upon waves dashed at the dark crags.
Sea spray washed my tired face.
Above the seagulls came to enjoy
The thunderstorm that would soon erupt
Above the small bay, now emptied of boats.

The sea gulls were indeed a sight to see.
Only a hundred or so circled the inlet.
They were truly a harbinger of storms.
They flew against the wind, or with it,
Or soared above it, much as they felt like it.
They plunged into the sea for food
Irrespective of where the chilly wind blew.
They were an elegant sight to see.

As the first drops of rain fell, I betook myself home.
My wife was waiting anxiously for me
Afraid I’ll get wet. “Watching the birds?”
Clearly she was not very much amused.

She turned her back on me, as thunder boomed
And lightening flashed but I went with the wind,
And clasped her round her winsome waist.
She did not resist, neither did I.

POTD 6 June 2017

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017

This shining gem was written by my friend Victor...
Victor lost his beloved wife around the same time that we lost our beloved mother, back in January this year.
He is truly a magnificent poet!! -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/we_two_beside_the_lake_909060

we two beside the lake

today we sat beside the lake
it was just after our daybreak
the sun it shone on lakes surface
two big black swans all filled with grace
they floated through a million gems
as thrilled i sat and gazed at them
two swamp hens with their funny gaits
striding along they did look great
those sun beams shining oh so bright
painted reflections to delight
my head did fill with happiness
i felt so high, i must confess

mo nature she was at her best
i felt like i was being blessed

12 june 2017

copyright © peter duggan | year posted 2017

from the golden pen of my dear friend, peter duggan--tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/character_918684


Character

Inside my heart I have unwritten codes
Those values I enforce by self demand
Unbreachable, my lines drawn in the sand
Their presence helps to navigate my load

With age my principles have not grown old
Though times may change, the heart's still in command
I'll walk a line to lend a friend a hand
My conscience keeps my boundaries patrolled

And even though I do my very best
I make mistakes, sometimes I cross a line
That does not mean I'll compromise the rest
It simply means that I am not Divine
There may be times when I'm falsely assessed
But my self worth is rarely in decline


by Daniel Turner


Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

From the brilliant heart and mind of my good friend Daniel.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Removed....

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Prickly Pears
-------------- by Paul Callus


Clustered cactus trees sprawling, reclining in the summer heat
where agile pollinators dart among gorgeous silky blooms.
Day by day the prickly pear fruit swell and mature.
Already the mind conjures visions of red,
magenta, pink, yellow and white.


thriving on spring rain
deep-rooted fantasy
mellifluent desires


Experience has shown that the best time to pick prickly pears
is early morning before the sun’s rays become too hot.
A steady half turn with thumb and forefinger
gently releases the ripened fruit.
The bucket soon fills up.


dewy prickly pears
at break of day
impotent thorns


Rinsed under running water, the fruit waits to be disrobed.
Both ends of each fruit are cut off with a sharp knife,
followed by a long vertical slice along its body.
The thick skin is then peeled back, the
fleshy coloured fruit revealed.


prickly pears
in a glass bowl
naked temptation


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Contest: “Haibun”
Sponsor: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
©17th July, 2017

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2017
****************************************

This from the golden pen of my good friend Paul Callus.--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

This poem was inspired by Becca Teagan's poem below.

missing thunder

It used to be him,
now there is nothing inspiring
just a closet full of colors

dresses I pull over disheveled hair
in the late afternoon, I twirl
before a mirror, singing loudly

the lyrics of sappy songs
so I won’t hear his words
clawing at my brain

even storms
don’t like me anymore
and thunder used to be
my only friend
Becca Teagan

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/missing_thunder_929234

No thunder without lightning
------- by SilentOne

Lightning rarely strikes without thunder,
causing havoc in gloomy skies.
Humans can't control their plunder,
seeking shelter until the storm dies.

Once, I was your prince - full of charm
and you my willing Cinderella.
Kept you safe from storms that could harm,
just like a human umbrella.

We danced from spring until the fall
and laughed so much, until you cried.
Now here I stand, trying to recall,
that exact moment the music died.

Those eyes of soft chocolate brown,
gleamed with your sweet tender smile.
Now all you seem to do is frown,
and even a glance seems like a trial.

Its been such a long time
since my kiss made those lips quiver,
and my hands didn't commit a crime,
but now my touch makes you shiver.

To unlock those sad songs in your mind,
I couldn't sing the correct lyrics.
Still the right words, I struggle to find
as I love you, doesn't raise your spirits.

As our love begins to rot,
regret plants seeds of discontent.
Yet my love remains, but yours does not,
as you lose yourself in malcontent.

How ironic as you walk away,
the radio plays our special song.
I don't have the strength to make you stay,
after all, it would only be wrong.

Your ghost will linger in the gust
with memories that wish to remain.
When bridges burn, ashes turn to dust,
its difficult to erase this pain.

Silent One
Simple Musings
21 August 2017


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Softer Silk She Came

A softer silk she came,

with tresses as a willow

weeps long to seeking love;

Her air as stars and moons,

of countenance opulent,

l'amour and debonair;

Whose eyes seek the hidden bloom....

(such goddess of slender strides

and aerie chimes)

She hath not heard of death ----

knows it not,

and only life knows her,

for a softer silk she came


Endeared she whose lips speak as rushing waters

and mellow cinnamon climes,

whose whisper furled Apollo

and all the rhyme he felled;

Whose ear heard never a temptress distant knell,

nor some grim hades from some bitter-wrought hell,

for 'o what a chartered hope,

the lovely of her spell!

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014

From the golden pen of my good friend and sometimes collaborating partner , Keith Hunt.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/old_fashioned_writing_927401

old fashioned writing

there is a path leading to a journal of time,
it reveals beauty within verses of fine rhyme-
it shields her pain when she desires her lost love,
and releases her sorrow like an ivory turtle dove.

her quill meets her parchment and it lingers,
creating beauty with her right hand fingers-
no keyboard is what she longed to use,
when writing with passion, following her muse.

old fashioned writing was just her lovely style,
for she knew not of contemporary saved files-
she knew she desired to express with a pen,
and she used a colored pencil every now and then.

she was just eleven when she began to journal,
and she knew from then on writing would be eternal-
her hobby became her passion in her youth,
as she quills on parchment...all these verses of truth.


August 6, 2017

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2017

THIS GEM FROM THE GOLDEN PEN, OF MY FRIEND, LAURA LOO.
Such great talent and such a nice person too..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A smile appeared
---by White Wolf


Silently, I sat by

To listen to the sounds of the world

Of all the voices that touched me most

Were those caught in the angelic wind

For all things have a voice

And the voice for all things speaks through the wind

So, silently I sat and listened

With the salty taste of a tear

As the tears touched my upper lip

A smile appeared

All the while the wind kept blowing

Secret after secret, revealing to me

If only I could comprehend its wisdom

But that is half the allure

Happy I am just to hear it blow

And acknowledge its influence over my spirit

The wind has taught me many things

Though, I cannot speak for the wind

Instead, let it speak for me

Copyright © White Wolf | Year Posted 2017

An Exceptional free verse poem by my friend White Wolf..
A TRULY FINE POET, A FRIEND AND ONE THAT SHARES IN MY NATIVE AMERICAN HERITAGE AS WELL.-TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Precision with Double Rhyme Sonnet

The Double Rhyme Sonnet is a sonnet that rhymes not only the end of the lines but also the front part (metrically)! Of course, I would be looking for imagery, good grammar, meter, etc.; however, the most important criterion is that it be written precisely with both end rhyme AND front line rhyme using the standard English sonnet rhyme pattern of ABAB CDCD EFEF GG and of course, using Iambic Pentameter; therefore, the rhyme on the front is on the stressed syllable (the second one) and NOT on the first syllable.

(My entry: A Double Rhymed Sonnet)

The starkness of my world now that he’s gone
pervades in all I see and hear and feel,
but darkness swallows all until the dawn
invades. Then what I’ve lost is made more real!
I yearn for Moon’s return - her tender light
to keep me soothed, for sunshine is my bane.
I burn with thoughts of him. I need, each night,
to sleep away my longings and the pain.
He left, and now he’s far away from me
across the globe. Oh, how I love him so!
Bereft am I, but he perhaps feels free!
My loss means where he is tonight shall glow
sweet Moon, caressing him - as once did I,
and soon, I’ll face the glare from morning’s sky!

For the "Enter Your Own Competition" Contest of Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017

I am at a loss as to adequately praise this poet and her sonnet...
I have no words that describe the beauty,depth, creativity and perfection exhibited in this stunning and superbly written piece....
I am no stranger to reading and writing sonnets and this gem is top tier poetry my friends!
And yes , she is my friend but my praise is sincere .
This sonnet awes me and previously only world famous sonnets written by world famous poets, have done that!--Tyr

[LongTermGuy]

I am at a loss as to adequately praise this poet and her sonnet...
I have no words that describe the beauty,depth, creativity and perfection exhibited in this stunning and superbly written piece....
I am no stranger to reading and writing sonnets and this gem is top tier poetry my friends!
And yes , she is my friend but my praise is sincere .
This sonnet awes me and previously only world famous sonnets written by world famous poets, have done that!--Tyr

:)

https://tse2.mm.bing.net/th?id=OIP.0BKwGjKAdyJFymATlX0O-gEsEs&pid=15.1&P=0&w=300&h=300
`Her Words are Minced`

"Below (https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/her_words_are_minced_803693#poems) is the poem entitled Her Words are Minced which was written by poet Andrea Dietrich (https://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet.aspx?ID=17482). Please feel free to comment on this poem."
[B]
Her Words are Minced

Her words are minced, like sweetened meat in pies.
She must believe that all of us are thick.
Be warned; she’ll try to fill you up on lies.

A pretty crust she makes to get a rise
from you! Her forked tongue gives that crust a prick.
Her words are minced, like sweetened meat in pies.

Half-truths she loves to softly vocalize.
Remember, though, that it is all a trick.
Be warned; she’ll try to fill you up on lies.

She’ll coo and soothe with words to tantalize.
She’ll have you hooked if you take just one lick!
Her words are minced, like sweetened meat in pies.

She also sighs and flirts with winsome eyes,
More ploys used by this very clever chick.
Be warned; she’ll try to fill you up on lies.

She feeds great lines! It’s all to strategize,
and if you eat it up, you can get sick!
Her words are minced, like sweetened meat in pies.
Be warned; she’ll try to fill you up on lies.

June 23, 2016

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016



[/I]</center>https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/her_words_are_minced_803693

Edited- To format the poem in its original form... My friend, I hope you agree and do not mind my taking this leeway.
Sending you a pm ...

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Presenting a short story written by my friend and fellow poet, Robert Haigh.....
My son and I both found this to be a very good tale and an uplifting story very well told..-Tyr

************************************************** **********************


A Knight's Journey
by Robert Haigh

A Knight’s Journey

A Short Story by Robert Haigh © 2017

Chapter One: Into Exile



The old knight, Sir Gavin of Richmond, rode into exile after suffering defeat in a royal joust. He had been the king’s champion for many years; unbeaten in combat until a much younger, unknown challenger had deposed him.

The old knight was nursing a shoulder injury, but a deeper wound was the one to his pride. So away he rode from the king’s court, and away from his own castle and loyal servants; destination unknown.

Feeling totally humiliated and with a deep depression hanging over him, he headed for nearby dense woodland. Mindful of a possible threat from outlaws, the old knight rode slowly into the woodland, sword in hand. Rabbits and squirrels scurried away, but no human was anywhere to be seen.

As he rode deeper into the woods, the light became dim and the whole area seemed eerily quiet. Suddenly, Sir Gavin saw a large, shadowy figure, partly hidden by a tree. He could make out the hindquarters of some huge beast!

With his heart pounding in his chest, the old knight slowly urged his horse forward, until the nervous steed would advance no further. Then the knight realised that the beast before him was a huge white horse! The largest horse he had ever seen!

This magnificent creature then turned to calmly face the newcomers, and Sir Gavin could see a large horn protruding from the forehead of the beast! A unicorn! Such creatures were known to exist, but very few people had actually seen them.

The old knight sheathed his sword and slowly dismounted. He then advanced, very slowly, toward the unicorn, which was clearly non-aggressive. Standing right next to the magnificent creature, the knight gently raised an arm to touch the unicorn’s neck. Then he reached higher, touching the base of the huge horn, which was spiralled and roughly textured.

The great beast hardly moved as Sir Gavin wrapped his fingers around the horn, and a strange energy surged through the knight’s whole body! Then, suddenly, the unicorn shook itself free - grazing the knight’s hand - and ran off, at great speed, with wonderful grace and agility, through the trees.

The knight could feel a tingling sensation from head to toe. Looking at his grazed hand, he could see no broken skin. Feeling tired and dizzy, the old knight sank to the ground, by a giant oak tree, and fell asleep. Several hours later he awoke, somewhat disoriented, but he quickly came to his senses and remembered all the events of the day. But had he been dreaming? Had he really seen a unicorn?

He felt his shoulder, and it was miraculously healed! Strange happenings indeed! He looked around for his horse, and saw it grazing a short distance away. He summoned his faithful steed, and it obediently came to his side.

Sir Gavin was feeling better about things now, but he still did not have a plan. He ruled out the idea of returning to the king’s court. He was not sure if he would be welcomed back anyway. He thought about returning home to his castle and land, but suspected that the king might have already given these to his new champion!

He decided to press on through the woodland. He felt invigorated after his sleep, and marvelled at the miraculous healing of his wound! He felt stronger and more energetic than he had in a long time.

He rode deeper into the woodland, at a slow pace, and after a couple of hours he saw that the trees were thinning and the light was stronger. He came out into a clearing where there was a gently flowing stream. Both the old knight and his steed were thirsty, so they made for the stream and drank their fill.

Crouching on hands and knees, the knight caught sight of his own reflection, and was startled by the image he saw. He looked like a young man again! Were these waters from the fountain of youth, or had contact with the unicorn been responsible for this rejuvenation?



Chapter Two: The Wizard

After spending the night sleeping by the stream, and feeling refreshed and stronger than he had in years, Sir Gavin remounted and continued his journey through the uncharted woodland. On he rode, until he came to another clearing, in the centre of which stood a small wooden hut with a pentagram painted on the door.

As he approached with caution, the knight saw a man of small stature appear at the doorway. He wore brightly coloured robes and had long, flowing white hair.

“Greetings, stranger!” the man called out. “Welcome to my domain!”

Sir Gavin nodded and smiled, but said nothing. He knew this was no ordinary man, for he could sense strange magic in the air!

“Once these woods were plagued by bandits and other bad fellows,” said the quaint, little white-haired man, “but I drove them out - or changed the worst of them into toads!” he continued.

“A wizard,” said the knight, under his breath.

“I’m not just any wizard! I’m the Grandmaster of all wizards! The greatest wizard who ever lived!” bellowed the little man, waving his arms in the air.

“Modest too,” said Sir Gavin, with good humoured sarcasm.

“But I’m not one to brag,” said the wizard, sweetening his tone. “I simply believe in telling the truth!”

Then, with a thoughtful look, the wizard said to the knight, “Your story is a remarkable one!”

Sir Gavin was puzzled, and replied, “I have told you nothing of myself. How do you know my story?”

“I listen to the wind, and the news that it brings,” said the wizard, mysteriously.

He then took something from one of his pockets and held out his hand.

“Take this, and wear it at all times. It will protect you,” he said.

It was a small, polished stone; drilled through the centre, and threaded on a strip of leather. The knight took it, and put it around his neck, giving the wizard a quizzical look.

“You already know what I am about to tell you, but I’ll say it anyway,” uttered the wizard. “You must return to your own land, and come face to face with your king. Your youthful powers have been restored, and you are destined to become the king’s champion once more!”

The knight was slightly surprised by the wizard’s words, and yet he knew they were true!

“You must follow the unicorn!” proclaimed the wizard. “I have told him to lead you back to the edge of the woodland where you entered. The next, glorious chapter of your life awaits you!”

Sir Gavin bowed his head, and thanked the wizard. He knew now what he must do, even though there were a thousand questions he could ask the wizard. He asked only one: “When should I leave?”

“In the morning, at first light,” replied the wizard. “Come, let us eat. Then you must have a good night’s sleep, before your journey back home.”



Chapter Three: The Knight’s Return


Sir Gavin slept well, and could have slept on, but he awoke to the sound of the wizard, clanking and clunking metal pots and dishes.


“I have prepared a light breakfast for you,” said the wizard, as he noticed the knight was stirring. “Come and eat. Then you must begin your journey home!”


Sir Gavin rubbed his eyes, stretched and yawned, then slowly got up. He ate the breakfast of oats and forest fruits, mixed with goat’s milk. He was quite hungry, so it tasted better than it looked!


“One more thing before you go,” said the wizard. “Give me your tattered, dirty old tabard, and wear this instead.” He held out a drab, roughly woven cloak. The knight hesitated for a moment, but then did as the wizard asked.


After taking care of general ablutions, Sir Gavin saddled up and bid farewell to the wizard, thanking him for all his help. The wizard nodded with a faint smile and then said, “Remember to wear the amulet around your neck at all times. It will protect you!”


“I will,” promised the knight, as he began his journey home.


He set forth, and soon saw the unicorn again, a short distance in front of him. He remembered what the wizard had said: “You must follow the unicorn!”


Onward they went, through the dense woodland, and in a while the light became stronger, as they approached the edge of the forest. The unicorn gave a loud snort and then ran off at speed, back toward the wizard. Sir Gavin gave a wry smile, then rode out onto the open plain, and followed the dirt road to the nearest town.


From the road he could see his old castle on the hill in the distance. Ah! It may have once been his, but he knew in his heart that it was his no more! The king had almost certainly given the castle to his new champion; the young warrior who had challenged and defeated the old knight in a joust. He thought of heading up there to take a look, but decided it could wait.


A little further down the road he saw a horse and cart heading towards him. As he got closer he recognised the driver. It was Jack, who had been a servant of his from the castle! The knight called out, “Jack! It’s good to see you! How are you - who is your master now?”



Jack looked a little confused, and more than a little wary. He looked intently at the knight, but did not seem to recognise him.


“Jack! It’s me - your old master, Sir Gavin!” said the knight, but Jack showed no signs of recognition at all.


“You must be mistaken sir,” said Jack, respectfully. “My master was the old knight, Sir Gavin of Richmond. You are much younger than he.”


The knight was taken aback, but then quickly remembered the happenings in the forest, with the unicorn, the sylvan stream and the strange old wizard. He did look much younger now! He felt stronger and more vigorous than he had in decades!


The knight explained in detail what had happened to him since his demise in the joust. Jack looked very sceptical, until Sir Gavin recalled some old times at the castle, which only Jack and he had been witness to. Jack then became quite emotional, as he hurriedly stepped down from the cart and threw himself at the feet of the knight.


“It is truly a miracle that you have returned, sire! And restored to your former glory too!” said Jack, with a tremor in his voice. “You must regain your castle and lands as soon as possible. The tyrant who now thinks he owns the place is no gentleman. He is a brute and has no sophistication about him whatsoever!”


Sir Gavin listened as Jack told him of the beatings and humiliating treatment he and the other servants had already suffered under their new master. The knight vowed to do all he could to change things for the better. He then bid Jack farewell for now, and the two went their separate ways.


As he reached the town, Sir Gavin attracted the attention of almost everyone, with his fine horse and knight’s armour, but no-one approached him, nor seemed to recognise him. He stopped outside the Boar’s Head inn and called over a boy he knew. The boy came over but did not recognise Sir Gavin. The knight gave the boy two coins, and asked him to water and feed his horse, while he went to eat and drink at the inn. The boy was only too pleased to oblige.


Entering the inn, Sir Gavin ordered food and a flagon of wine. He could sense that all eyes were on him, but he just sat and calmly ate his meal.


Presently, a burly, but seemingly good-natured chap sauntered across to where the knight was seated and asked if he was there for the royal joust, due to be held in a couple of days time. The man could clearly see that Sir Gavin was wearing a fine suit of jousting armour.



Sir Gavin paused for a second, before answering in the affirmative. Yes, he would be attending the joust. The burly chap wished the knight good luck, adding that he would need it! The new champion, who everybody was calling the Black Knight, would take some beating, he said!


After finishing his meal, Sir Gavin left the inn and retrieved his horse. The boy had fed and watered the steed well, so the knight gave him another coin. Feeling refreshed and relaxed after his meal, Sir Gavin rode in the direction of a reputable lodging place, on the edge of town. He would stay there for a couple of days, until the joust.





Chapter Four: The Challenge


On the morning of the joust, Sir Gavin rode slowly toward the king’s castle. He knew that the joust was to take place in the grounds just outside the castle walls. The king himself was sure to be there.


Sir Gavin had polished his armour, and bought a new chamfron made of metal and leather, to protect his horse. He set out for the king’s castle, looking every bit the fearless knight that he truly was. He still wore the drab cloak the wizard had given him, rather than a new tabard, but nevertheless, he made an imposing figure. He rode slowly, so to preserve his horse’s energy and strength.


By the time he reached the jousting arena, Sir Gavin could see that the tournament had already begun. The Black Knight, the king’s new champion, had already won his first joust and was sitting, awaiting the outcome of the next contest, which was between two young hopefuls, who would clearly stand no chance against the haughty Black Knight. The king’s champion expected to win the whole contest without much trouble.


But then he saw the knight in the drab robe approaching, astride a big strong horse, and his interest was piqued. He did not recognise him as Sir Gavin, as did no-one else either. Nevertheless, the Black Knight could tell that this knight - though dressed quite modestly - would prove to be a better challenger than any of the other contestants in the arena! As the king’s new champion, he made it his business to find out who the latecomer was.


“A word with you, stranger!” called out the Black Knight, as Sir Gavin was about to ride past him. “Who are you? And are you here to joust?”


“If someone could provide me with a decent lance I would be only too happy to do so,” answered Sir Gavin.


“We have decent lances aplenty - take your pick!” boomed the Black Knight, waving a hand in the general direction of where the lances were kept. “I must fight the winner of this motley lot! But then I’d be more than happy to despatch you, as a grand finalé!” sneered the arrogant champion.


Sir Gavin said nothing as he headed toward the lances, intent on selecting one that was of a good length and weight, and was suitably straight enough! He quickly found one that he liked, and sought the Black Knight’s confirmation that he could use that particular one. The champion said it was fine, and it didn’t matter anyway, because he would easily beat the latecomer, whichever lance he chose!



Sir Gavin then asked if he could speak with the king, who was busy watching the two jousters currently in action, from the royal box in the stands. The Black Knight summoned one of the marshals and instructed him to take Sir Gavin to the king.


Standing before the king, Sir Gavin waited until he was sure the monarch had seen him, and then said, “Your Majesty, please may I speak with you?”


The king asked who was addressing him, and what did he want.


“I come here under the name of Knight Errant, Your Majesty,” said Sir Gavin, “and I request your permission to take part in this tournament.”


“This is most irregular!” said the king. “You do not wear any heraldic tabard, nor do you seem to have a groom to tend to your horse!”


“What you say is true, Your Majesty,” replied the knight, “but I am indeed a knight, and I would like to challenge your champion! I would like to become your new champion!”


The king laughed, considering this upstart to be out of his mind!


“Very Well!” he said, at length. “ But I must warn you! The Black Knight is undefeated and usually dispatches all-comers with consummate ease! Moreover, if you place a formal challenge to his status as champion, he has the right to adopt a ‘no quarter’ policy! Do you know what that means?”


“Yes, Your Majesty, I do,” said the knight, solemnly. “It means he has to right to kill me, if he so chooses!”


“Oh, he will so choose!” said the king, with a frown. “Are you sure you want to do this?”


“Yes, Your Majesty. I am sure,” replied Sir Gavin.


“So be it!” declared the king.





Chapter Five: No Quarter!


The tournament continued, and soon the Black Knight had dispatched the winner of the challenging knights. He won with ease, without breaking sweat. Thankfully nobody was killed, nor badly injured. But now, things would be different! No quarter was to be given in this final contest, as Sir Gavin, under the alias of Knight Errant, challenged the Black Knight, for the right to be called the king’s champion.


The Black Knight mounted his big black steed and then turned to the king and saluted him with his lance. Sir Gavin mounted his trusty steed and also saluted the king in like manner. Battle was about to commence!


The two knights began their approach, and the horses thundered toward one another. Both men caught their opponent with a glancing blow, but neither man was knocked off his horse. With lances still intact, the two men began a second charge.


This time the Black Knight caught his opponent with a full blow to the helmet, and the onlookers gasped as Sir Gavin went crashing from his horse, and lay motionless on the ground! Was he dead? A broken neck, perhaps? Or was he just dazed?


The Black Knight saluted his king once more, and then threw down his lance and dismounted. Drawing his sword, he strode toward the still motionless Sir Gavin. The Black Knight raised his sword in readiness to deliver a mighty blow to the neck of the helpless challenger!


Meanwhile, Sir Gavin started stirring, and in a somewhat disoriented state, touched the amulet around his neck. This seemed to jolt him into full consciousness - in the nick of time! He managed to rapidly roll away as the Black Knight delivered a mighty blow into the ground, right where Sir Gavin’s neck had been!


Sir Gavin was quickly on his feet, managing to draw his sword just in time to fend off another potentially fatal blow from his adversary! The two men fought, thrust and parry, for almost half-an-hour! Both were tiring rapidly, but refused to yield. Indeed, they could not yield - it would mean certain death!


But then, one great clash of swords saw one of the weapons break - the blade flying dramatically across the battleground! It was the sword of Sir Gavin that had broken! Surely the battle was now over!


The Black Knight moved in for the kill, but Sir Gavin remembered the amulet, and touched it once more. With great speed and dexterity, he managed to avoid what everyone thought was about to be the killer blow! He managed to grab the Black

Knight’s sword arm, and with a swift kick behind the left knee, managed to send the Black Knight tumbling to the ground! The champion’s sword went flying, and Sir Gavin raced to pick it up! The Black Knight looked on in horror!


“No quarter, I believe you said?” growled Sir Gavin, as the Black Knight covered his face with his arms, and cried out for mercy!


Sir Gavin put the tip of the sword to the Black Knight’s neck and then looked toward the king, who was sitting impassively on his chair.


The king then called out, “The matter is in your own hands! You are my new champion, whether you slay this wretch or not!”


With that, Sir Gavin removed the sword from under the chin of the humiliated Black Knight, saying, “I shall let you live, though you must depart from this kingdom, never to return!”


The king applauded, and the rest of the spectators did the same. No-one had liked the arrogant Black Knight in the first place. Even the king held him in contempt, and was glad to see him defeated!


The king then spoke again, saying, “Black Knight! Get on your horse, now! Ride to the south, until you leave my kingdom, never to return - under pain of death! Take nothing with you! Your castle and other chattels are hereby seized, and they become the property of my new champion!”


The king instructed ten of his soldiers to ride with the disgraced Black Knight, to ensure that he left the kingdom.


He then turned to Sir Gavin and said, “Well, Knight Errant, or whatever your name is, you are my new champion! You must select your own heraldic motif, and my tailors will make you tabards and other items to your own design.”


The knight bowed deeply and thanked the king. Then, he nervously asked if he could speak with the king in private. The king’s bodyguards took a step toward the knight and drew their swords, but the king waved them back, saying, “My new champion will be given a few moments of my time, and my ear.” He ordered his guards to stay where they were, and asked Sir Gavin to walk with him, a few paces, out of earshot of quiet conversation.



The king asked what the knight wanted. Sir Gavin then proceeded to tell the king what had happened to him over the last few days - who he really was, and about the unicorn, the healing waters, and the wizard.


“I could not, in all good conscience, deceive you, Your Majesty,” concluded Sir Gavin. “You have a right to know.”


The king was astonished to learn that his new champion was none other than a rejuvenated, and unrecognisable, Sir Gavin of Richmond! After the initial shock had passed, the king found the whole thing highly amusing. And he was glad. He had always liked Sir Gavin, and had been troubled when the Black Knight defeated him in their first joust.


“Perhaps I should meet with this wizard of yours!” said the king, with a glint in his eye. “I could do with some rejuvenating, myself!” But then he gave a frown and added, “No! He would surely know that my journey there was for personal gain, and he would doubtless turn me into a toad! After all, I should be grateful for what I have. I have been king here for almost half a century, and I rule a peaceful kingdom! Furthermore, you have been returned to me, courtesy of the wizard in the woods!”


With that, the king indicated he wished to return to his castle, and that his newly restored champion should accompany him there.





Epilogue


The king arranged for Sir Gavin to have his old castle and land restored to him, and his faithful servants were all there to welcome him home. They had already heard about his exploits and his miraculous rejuvenation!


Sir Gavin announced that a banquet was to be held in his own castle, as soon as possible. He would bring in catering staff from the town, and all his servants (including the kitchen staff) would be excused duties, to attend the banquet as guests of honour!


The knight felt good to be alive, and truly grateful that he had met the old wizard in the woods! Life would never be quite the same again!



~ FIN ~

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/i_need_a_change_986026


I Need a Change
-- By Victor Buhagiar.

I have so often tried to say goodbyes,
I tried my best to forget the past, but
Life is too cruel, my heart and mind sighs.
Change seems impossible, I'm in a rut.

Day after day, this soul breaking routine
Gone are sweet days of happiness and joy
Many events have happened in between
Our love, I assure you, none can destroy.

Yet, I know that something must now be done,
I need to breathe again soft, dewy dawn,
Not shut the door upon a setting sun,
Praying this winter sadness will be gone.

Leave this dark, empty sad-house and enjoy,
Walk, dance, swim and behave like a young boy.

NB I am not much good at writing sonnets, so I must thank Robert Lindley for his help in writing this sonnet.

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2018

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/two_hearts_986828


Two Hearts

Your heart was in the lost and found,
But I could not see why.
I knew a heart like yours was sound
And none should pass it by.

I took it home and cared for it,
With tenderness and love.
Then pretty soon your heart was fit
Enough to rise above -

Above the slings and arrows felt
From careless words and deeds.
My own heart too began to melt,
Discovering its needs.

And now two hearts both beat as one,
In synchronicity.
The prize of love already won;
Quite priceless - and for free!


Copyright © Robert Haigh | Year Posted 2018

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/upon_writing_this_sonnet_981329

Upon Writing This Sonnet

To write this poem my head takes on a role
Akin to those of an actor unfold,
Whilst mind and hand in unison doth stroll
Along stringent directions to uphold.
My muse able to call on devotion
A belief in the power of one’s heart,
As the ink flows creates the emotion
Within the labyrinth of this fine art.
Where choice words of common sense I do weave
To ring in one’s head the understanding,
Yet to wear my child’s mind on this my sleeve
There marks the chart of my safe landing.
While some words are clothed in mighty glory
Others in rags enhance the whole story.

© Harry J Horsman 2017

December 31 2017
Entered into contest, your best sonnet
Oct 1-Dec 31 2017
Sponsor John Hamilton.

A truly exceptional sonnet written by my friend. His fine poetry always passes the test.--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/cherished_is_the_night_994560


Cherished is the Night
Poet's Notes


"Look! You are beautiful, O girl companion of mine. Look! You are beautiful. Your eyes are those of doves." -Song of Solomon


Cherished is the Night

not Aphrodite's vernal ivory skin
nor Cleopatra's jasmine scented lair
could tempt this man to stray in lustful sin
for next to you no beauty can compare

like Tristan mesmerized by Isolde's spell
or Romeo who died in sweet embrace
I'd gladly sacrifice this earthly shell
to see the smile return upon your face

it breaks my heart to know you're in such pain
you try so hard to wear a blithe facade
my promise is to stay through sun and rain
remembering the vows made under God

let's celebrate our love 'til morning light
and may we ne'er forget this cherished night

Copyright © July Morning | Year Posted 2018

************************************************** **********

Truly great sonnet by my friend that has so very much poetic talent.....--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Pardon From The Storm
by Charlie Smith.

Take my heart and carry me
to where all dreams are born.
Into loves arms, oh such a place
that's always safe and warm.
Away from such deceitful lairs
where blackened virtues swarm.
into a light where peace must shine
and grants us pardon from a storm.

High above the mountain tops
or low as low can be.
Makes no difference where we are
a wondrous lyric calls to me.
Singing of your splendor
like a miracle performed.
I'll stay with you to find the port
that grants us pardon from a storm.


POTD 03/03/2018

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2018


This is is a gem written by VERY FINE AND TRUE POET!!!!!!
One that is a friend I admire..... -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/passion_in_black_and_white_1001562


Passion in Black and White
by Maria Williams

Like dark molten honey caressing her tongue
and soul food for taste buds addicted to caffeine
Coffee has its own excitation
The book has lost its charm
The fault lies entirely with the tree outside this cafe
To its majestic being she gazes yet again
Intoxicating her mind with the magic it casts

Its sacred shades of green offers sanctuary - cocoons her
A light breeze rustles leaves that seem to whisper
enticing words articulating something in an archaic tongue
Escapism into her fantasy world comes effortlessly

A disposition for being alone - solitude her sacred space
Interrupted suddenly by a dog barking -
The momentary moment of peace shattered
snaps her back to reality
Well at least the tree still offers her solace
Till the comforting feeling dissipates as a strange awareness dawns
She is being watched

Smouldering eyes so black boring through her cuts her to the core
A feeling of having experienced this de`ja` vu moment mystifies
Most disconcerting is this almost pleasurable sensation
Embarrassed and puzzled
she pulls her wrap protectively around her
Shielding her from eyes that linger

To cover her shyness she stares down at her book
Then to the TV on the wall

Startled she observes it has morphed into an old movie screen
Static flashes across an old Hollywood Classic rerun
Most bewildering - she does a double take - Unbelievable
The actors in black and white
Are her… And … this stranger
Unable to tear her eyes away from the screen she watches
in utter fascination - this person who sits across the table from her
Is the leading man in the movie

He… She...They
Incredulously are in the throes of a passionate love scene?
She staring shamelessly into his eyes
Welcoming his wandering hands?
He thrusts his tongue into her mouth eliciting a drawn out sigh
that intensifies into a sonorous moan arousing his demands
What is happening here?

Like a finely tuned instrument he plays her - her resonance - his pleasure
His sole aim to pluck her strings evoking the sweetest sounds
A musician exerting the right pressure to produce a high note
of pure exhilaration must know how to use his fingers
To locate the true locus of ardour

Questing fingers slip under her short skirt
A sharp intake of breath as they run the length of skin
in search of excellence to acclaim his prized opus
through the essence of his masterpiece and the high ecstatic notes
Only he can achieve
And Boy! - Does he know how!

Raw intense undulating pleasure like waves over waves
Wash over her - a nostalgic fragrance of bygone days linger
But logic interrupts fantasy with a mentation
They have already experienced this exhilaration
From a past life?
Lovers that have lived in each other?
A rare phenomenal - no words needed
As he saunters over to her table - she smiles…
by Maria Williams

Folks, this is not only a true poet but also one that is loaded with immense talent!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Perfect Embrace
by Brenda Chiri

Counted only on myself to be strong
So it seems I have lived a life as much
Yet if by chance it was I who was wrong
Will I always regret my life as such?

Now strong arms have grown so very weary
From so many others that I have held
Alas has made me feel sad and dreary
These very thoughts which cannot be dispelled

In searching a world that is vast and wide
For an embrace that can hold me so tight
Still felt the beauty whilst I gently cried
When out of the darkness came true light

Safe and sound in his arms I am secure
Beckoning me with such a soft allure


Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2018
************************************************** **

This gleaming gem is from my very talented friend and collaborating partner Brenda Chiri.
A truly talented poetess that shines regardless of which poetry form she writes in..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

These fine creations are from my very dear friend, Victor Buhagiar.... --Tyr



Birds in Winter

As golden, green and russet leaves must fall,
And trees become skeletal wintry bare,
I see so many birds, some large, some small,
Hear them sing as they flutter unaware.

Hush, listen to the thrush as it replies
To the melodies of the sweet robin,
Look, they would fly up in the open skies,
Leaving me alone, my heart a throbbing.

I will build a small wooden bird feeder
Entice the birds that dwell in cold regions
Find soft nuts and other food that's sweeter.
May they gather round and round in legions

Let them eat and stay as always secure,
Let winter rage, birds will thrive and endure.

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2019

**************************************

Shadows Dancing in a Moonless Night

Is our love a dance macabre?
A dilly dallying with death?
Or a mystic encounter of unabated love?
Will it last? Will it end?
So many questions left unanswered,
So many uncertainties attested,
All cumulative in a death wish
As emotions run devilishly amok.

My soul screams with this unpredictability,
Its echoes rampage through my veins,
As bubbling blood courses through
Twisted arteries, through havoc and chaos.
Is it the folly of chained love?
The unearthly silence of togetherness?

My lips pronounce your name but no one answers.
I realize my questions will never be answered.
Our togetherness is but a charade,
Shadows dancing in a moonless night.
Your allure is just too much to bear,
I dare keep it no more
So let our ways head into different tracks.
Henceforth I'll dance alone.
A dance macabre.

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2019

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Spring and gallows
Dedicated to artist N.

It was the spring so frantic that
even the ancient gallows at
the city square spawned a green sprout.
I read my poetry aloud
to you, my first, my awkward and
ecstatic poems that I penned
last night to sing your abstract art,
your cold and unresponsive heart,
your gray-blue eyes and the prune sleet
on my lone way home. Oh, how sweet
you are, young rhymes! Years later I
see that not fondness but those my
first trials of pen resulted in
my happiness, my gloom akin
to deepest hell, my grace, my curse,
my sleeplessness and this small verse.

You married a long time ago,
I sing of other beauties, though,
in spring the memories about
you still make ancient gallows sprout.

Copyright © Kurt Ravidas | Year Posted 2019


This is from my very good friend, Kurt Ravidas.....--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Gregory R Barden |
Sonnet

Answer In the Sand

I found her jacket folded 'midst the drift,
Atop her shoes but 'neath a ribbon, red,
Tied to a strainer that she'd used to sift
The sand for treasures left by tidal shed.

The streamer I had given her that morn,
Around a bunch of flowers and the ring
Upon which all our promises were borne -
Our romance and our future, taken wing.

Her note had led me here so I could find
Her single set of footprints on the shore,
That to our special spot, did slowly wind,
Then disappeared into ... the tidal bore.

That answer, I can now ne'er understand ...
The words 'I'm sorry' written in the sand.


~ 1st Place ~ in the "English Sonnets" Poetry Contest, Emile Pinet, Judge & Sponsor.

( Syllables = ten per line, counted at HowManySyllables.com )

Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2020

This very finely crafted poetry, a wonderful sonnet is from the pen of my very good friend and fellow poet, Gregory R. Barden.
I hope you may enjoy reading it as much As I have and still do. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Yet another poetic gem from my very good friend Gregory R. Barden....-Tyr


Sway of the Summer Moon


The summer moon was swollen, blue
A flaw that girl knew thru-and-thru
And taking that light's charm in hand
She made our bed the dunes of sand

With but one gaze her sparkling eyes
The loves I'd known met their demise
My heart, her gold doubloon to toss
Atoned on moonbeam's pearly cross

Though drifting on that sea of dunes
Our rafts tossed with romantic runes
Fierce conflagration seared our cores
One bonfire, crooned by ocean roars

From first we touched in moonlit skin
Our urges merged with summer's sin
A carefree dance of limbs and laughs
Without the shame for better halves

"Oh, murder me" I sighed in passion
"Destroy me sweet, in fleshly fashion"
For all I'd valued, pride and purpose
Lost then, as our sins usurped us

The place that wickedness thus stirs
My mouth and marrow met with hers
The swirling seas of "us" grew wider
Frayed, I strayed so deep inside her

Warm and wild and wondrous, down
To depths where lovers gladly drown
Her sinews' flood was mine to taste
That dermal landscape laid to waste

Our battle waged with bloodless bliss
A windswept war wrought from a kiss
No quarter giv'n that moonlight's ire
We vanquished each last drunk desire

With senses spent and cravings calm
We soothed in Neptune's briny balm
The mad old moon a-dancing bright
Our cool swim daubed in tender light

Oh, such tender light ...

It all seems now a sweetened dream
Two lifes ago and years downstream
Yet, what we found there on the sand
Far more than dreams ... and thrice as grand.


Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2020

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Amberina Ballerina, Premiere Contest Winner


A born lioness
my untamed heart.. ha!
wild this pulsing token ruled by unruly wants
at times given, traded or stolen - sometimes
thrown down on a dare to be won or lost
till it became a paper tigress in tatters;
regrets and rejections remorse and resentments
flitted like fringe in the wind
..I played at life and life played me..
good times and bad vibes as random as Russian roulette
..five chambers of folly.. but that sixth was a b*tch..

bravado worn like a honeyed mane ruffled and bluffing
rolling with -or- rolled by the wrecking ball of the spin
to laugh and lose and tell - and live
through duels between disasters and dreams.. alas,
chivalry was lost in the gamble but not the likelihood of liability ~

I rummage through my psyche’s ruined luggage
soul-searching with mood’s sentimental searchlight
for affection connection lost in dark depths -
I am but a ghost ship stranded on the beigy side of brawling breakers
sails of self-pity hailed by greedy gusts with a sorrow’s lust -
I pine for a pipe-dream dance
in rapt thoughtful thirst for a cocktail blend of
bay-breezy optimism swirled with vibrations of om
and garnished with a slice of the moon

a pester of wagering pessimistic clouds
lay odds upon the outcome of a trove discovered in a wistful cove -
this wastrel's newfound fortune of amberina;
satiny shades of Autumn’s bittersweet
born of breakage and abrasion -
frictional forces of joy and sadness dress the drift glass
hoarded in the sea’s rabid bites of the shore then
abandoned by the absent-minded backwash -
..forgotten like vague fractions of a song too long-ago to remember..

what passional tales these frosted bits of daystar could tell;
a not-so-charmed journey from
virginal vessels of translucent wonder
to shattered shards of a doomed sunset
their fragility favoring the risks of vulnerability --
bygone blushing damsels damned by double-dealing
recounting deceptions like a martyr or a saint
..or, perhaps.. that’s just me..
lost to decades of accidental metamorphosis
if only to reach another shore to touch another soul
..maybe.., to touch my own..

O, harmonious forces of fate
how do you orchestrate such feral instruments
like time and place and distance
to unite in tune with symphonized chords
re-creating an irresistible lullaby worth remembering..?

nostalgia rouses a stagnant ballerina to twirl on Swan Lake swells
as faint echoes of quaint chimes reminisce with imagination;
in an old-fashioned parlour with white lace doilies charmed
by heady plum plumes atop silvery-green stems spooning
contentedly in a tan wicker flower basket -
a child sits on grand-mère’s old-world lap comforted in her lavender arms
..before her perfume and my mind
were blown away by winter’s mistral winds..
enraptured as I was with an ornate trinket box with a musical belle
surrounded by dainty forms of hand-blown amber-rose objets d’art
before there were cracks in the glass

..could I ever be so enchanted again..?

for the washed-up gypsy gems stripped of shine
are worn and warm and wise and oh so familiar
shaking my awakening with their loss of newness -
roughed-up radiance tinkers with my sense of awe
rescuing my mood
like heroic swords of sunrays slaying the night
bloodletting the black out of the incubus of dreams
soothing heavy-metal thoughts
as comrades-in-commiseration croon
storm-surge blues with weathered heartstrings’ in hard-earned hues -
..sympathetically
with the empathy
of a survivor..
and like me... are a creation of tumbling forces of man and nature

in a mind battered by diatribe tides
over tossing dice through turbulent times -
I behold an opaque odyssey in a handful of mermaids’ tears;
broken and buffeted their buffed beauty defied destruction
burnt orange and devil red pearls
time capsules quiet with a vintage fire’s glow
illuminating the amber marrow where a tigress soul was caged
behind the mirror of a little girl’s music-box-memories
..before the dancer’s spin into darkness..

pulp of my grief plashes upon relics of pain and love
gentle splashes baptize despair and shame as
contemplation undresses the looking-glass of inward reflection -
recollections like sky lanterns lift from starless depths
light-bearers intercede with murky horizons as flames are lit from
ruby tips of sunrise surf ready to parlay shipwrecks and spindrift into gold -
stray feelings of triumph and pride squint in the sun of self-compassion
like skittish felines -shy yet hungry- they warily lap at cream of self-worth
finally able to find redemption from reckless wreckage
while finding peace in the eye of the hurricane
..frictional forces of sadness and beauty dress the drift glass -- and now -
dress this drifter in a lioness share of indigo epiphany..

and... I realize that my coming-to-light
was a fait accompli


Susan Ashley
October 30, 2020


~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Inward Reflections
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke


*wastrel: a wasteful or good-for-nothing person*

*fait accompli: a thing that has already happened or been decided before those affected hear and/or learn about it, leaving them with no option but to accept it*

*amberina: a late 19th century American clear glassware of a graduated color that shades from ruby to amber*

Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2020

From the magnificent poetic pen of my very dear friend Susan Ashley!--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

mouth trap


~ for Sami ~


oh ...
a pity, that …
such sweet sadness, yours
my lovely lass, lost ...
do not let your lip tremble so ...
it was not made for such iniquity
it was not shaped to
sublime bow-like grace to
be such a dark
dynamism of emotion
or to be the quivering spout of
some slavering
goddess ...
oh, it can push a word or
phrase to hypnotize
it can bring a breathy seduction to
any sonorous expression -
turn my very name
into molten madness
or salacious sigh ...
but even that fails witness to
the verity of its
purpose ...
(a primal and poisonous perpetude)
for it is The Keep -
the bane of my constitution
the very fate of every
such fool whose meat is but
manna for his passions ...
pray, do not bring such sad motion to
that which gilds the gods and
whittles hearts to
compliance -
least, that which thrums, hot,
this very chest -
my capture and my undoing
Avalon and Abaddon
my life, my death
my salvation and doom
my food and my starvation
the ripe, dewy plum that
dangles a-branch
waiting to be
savored ...
perfection's bloom
and the divine portal of sin ...
a most tender press
velvety ... warm
your angelic wings
your throne of judgement
your vessel
your venom ...
your kiss.

Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2021

Another truly great offering from the pen of my dear friend and brother poet, Gregory Barden....--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

What I Feel No Words Could Bear


What would be of me
if you could be with me

How would be my present days
if ever you were spared other few days

I open wide my heart so as you I can see
and stand in awe of the woman I would see!

I will not weep or tend to lament
just swallow every moan and each lament

I knelt to the grace of God’s Hands
for the blessing to kiss my mother’s hands

I prayed for a time to once again see you
graced with your presence and a kiss from you

The woman I see as I close my eyes
that’s you, mum, the apple of my eyes

I do remember now my promise and vow
in my words I’d honour your Beauty I avow

Precious praiseworthy parent, my very pride
a sweet scented Rose, a lofty tree in your pride

Envy could not sow its seeds into my heart
as your passionate Love would immune my heart

Here I am on a special day that honours every dear mum
what I feel no words could bear as you are not here, mum..

Besma

Written on March 3rd, 2021
Edited on May 29th, 2021
Mother’s Day on May 30th, 2021 (In Tunisia, celebrated on the last Sunday of May)

Happy Mother’s Day to all the amazing mums in the whole world!


Copyright © Besma Riabi Dziri | Year Posted 2021


From the very talented pen of my friend, Besma Riabi Dziri -----Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

My Muse Of Poetry

-- BY Besma Riabi Dziri

Not all the worlds belong to me
Not all the words set me free
What the heart loves
is of will
I just free some words
to confine its spill.

****

A time, my words
on my papers sashaying
the shape to me alluring
the tone of their steps
I hear
as they are dancing
the music they are following
the soul, in a trance, just listens
without interfering.

****

A time, along with my Muse
we keep to each other
our hearts baring
secrets sharing
silently, knowingly connecting..
When it comes to share
our worlds in words
that’s the difficulty!
“That’s to be spelled”
“No! It can’t be!”
“That belongs to my world of poetry!”
“No! that’s a huge part of me!
no words allowed to touch
its beauty!”

****

How dare you invoke me
then deny my poetry!?
How dare you be wedded to me
and deprive your soul
of my verse and divinity!?

****

In my womb
you shape a life.. a reality
a present.. a past memory..
and what is to be..
And you still think
you spill your words out of will!

****

I inspire..
I own the fire..
I pave paths, not all
able to bear the burn
But those blessed
with divine grace
the power to mystery embrace
The ones who, a feeble voice
render a sublime poetry!

****

“All my words can set you free
just follow me!”
I have my say
With my best wishes
Your Muse of poetry..


Silent One contest

October 5th, 2020


Copyright © Besma Riabi Dziri | Year Posted 2020

My very good friend, that writes so very wonderfully well.-- Tyr