Best Steadied Poems


God's Strong Hands

God allowed him to see through their eyes,
feel their cries,
understand their plight,
with his body, but with their sight,
the alley way shimmered,
the night stars glimmered,
and the man found himself standing in a dark alley,
the stench of decaying rats,
discovered by hungry cats,
raw sewage, old smoke,
could lead anyone to choke,
as the less savory smells
hit him like a blow,
gagging, as he sensed hell,
displaying its best in show,
he steadied himself against a dirty red brick wall,
hearing the hungry call,
as he tried to keep himself from the fall,
his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness,
he glided up the alley as a shadow,
meaningless, but there,
ignored, but here,
if his shadow haven’t been silhouetted on the wall against the light,
he would have been another soul lost in the night.
People passed the alley without so much of a glance,
life gave him no chance,
as he was just another vague outline in society,
just like the abandoned crates and garbage bins all around,
he was just like garbage tossed on the ground,
his silhouette gave no clue on who he was,
just a flickering light,
from time to time just plain out of sight,
God’s strong hands seized his shoulders to steady him,
made him look at the people he once ignored,
made him understand,
that once in a while, people may need a loving hand.

On the Way To the Ballet

The old ladies 
march onto the elevator,
steadied by their canes, 
each a shrunken frailty
wrapping an unending soul-- 
they are going to watch 
young people dance 
their dances of grace
and beauty, while they recall 
their own beauty long dissolved 
in the acid of time....

Yet, they are happy--
I even joke with them 
as I lean on my own cane: 
'Come Ladies! Let's have a
foot race!" They all laugh, 
as the young girls within 
their tattered frames flirt 
with the potent young man 
hiding behind a time-marked mask...
for a moment we all feel a jolt
of that spark we call life.

If This Beauty Shall Be My Final Curtain, Let It Be Dropped Slowly

Parched and dry, this barren field stretches,
I wander, head hung low,
staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts
Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath 
my worn out sneakers,
black and white crushing beige
in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust

“My sanity for some cool water”

When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity,
wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze
as if Autumn has come to claim her colors,
to gather her brown and sepia landscape,
pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf
from the chalk textured ground taking it 
where it would suit another, for this is my luck

"Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch”

Like fingers of a silken web’s reach,
a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant 
Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place
once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now
green as if lush has just been defined
with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow, 
pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly

“To whom might I thank for such a gift?”

When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost
slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own
personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart
An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me?
My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle
her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating
to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end?

“If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly”

A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality,
now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime
“I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper,
thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings
melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart,
the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all  

“Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”

*I feel this poem speaks of poetry, the reason we are all here. To find and share our muse, to be inspired and grow together in poetry. It also was a step out of my comfort zone for me as this was an early write of mine where I tried a few new ideas.


Rebuild Anew

“Rebuild anew”, he says to me.
The one of stillness ‘neath the sea.
“Rise to the shore; as one we stand.
This hardened castle borne of sand 
conceals your darkest memory.”

A lone wolf blows with certainty
to shatter hollow masonry.
Destruction steadied by still hand.
Rebuild anew.

I crave only tranquility. 
Erase these tortures mindlessly.
My heart is still; my mind profound.
Upon the rock I claim this ground
to reinvent my destiny.
Rebuild anew.

Premium Member Anthony Bourdain 1956-2018 -

* Many years now since this very talented, very HUMAN guy left us … those holes never fill, and he is sorely missed. (This is a form I invented called “Tredicum Plus”. *

                   ~

my brother ...
you caught me off guard -
of all those who struggle like we do
in darkness, with the
hideous demons that lurk
I was sure the victory was yours -
that the knight was astride
his steed, steadied -
armor shining bright in the sun
sword and shield, sharp and enduring ...
but alas, it seems the
devil wants the final
fiendish word …

long did I look to you
for strength ...
a flicker of light to guide
me through the murk -
the fog of pain and error and
fallibility that so often
gathers for those of us who
feel too deeply - 
who see sensitivity as
more of a curse than a gift …
you understood that path quite well -
walked it many times
as I have …

you knew the beasts
that scratch at our ankles -
those shadowy minions that seek
to rake us into hell with every
step we take in redemption's course
but your light shined so bright!
you held it high and
proud for so long that I took
it for granted - depended on it …
and now that light is snuffed
the black is all the
more oppressive - all the
more glaringly heavy and deep ...

   … and empty …

now the path
is twisted, obscured ...
and without the welcome of
your glowing spirit
it will henceforth be cluttered with
ambiguity and question -
each further step, taken in
hesitation and doubt …
tragedy, pain, sorrow, regret
their names matter not -
they wreak the same horrid havoc
and those ragged, merciless monsters
have claimed you …

aye, the sun will rise a wee bit
colder on the morrow, and life’s flavor
is now tinged with bitterness …
still, you left behind a torch of humble exuberance and vitality
and those of us who know the
treacherous paths of life -
those darkened 'parts unknown' -
will hold it high in your memory
and give the devil all he can handle ...
of your mischievous smile
your twinkling eye
and your fierce, fiery heart …

Rest In Peace, Tony.

Happy Birthday, Mom

Happy birthday, Mom
I wonder how many years have passed by
Since I gave you my first tenuous smile 
Since you steadied my first faltering step
Since the first time I called you "Mommy"
You are the place I came from
You are my first home
You are an angel in human form
Who lives inside my laughter
And crystallized in my every tear drop

I want to thank you 
For your heart, faith and hope
For teaching me right from wrong
For your tender care and warm hugs
For all your steadfast love
For filling my days with rainbow lights
For all the times we have shared
For always being there in my time of need
For helping me deal with life's stresses
For helping me accept my defeats
For everything you have done
For you made me a woman I am

One birthday after another
They seem faster each year
I just want you to know that
The years you devoted to me, 
You can trust, were worthwhile.

Happy Birthday, Mom.
You are the best Mom a daughter could have.




~For my Mom's B'day @July 12


The Flight of An Arrow

Dawn broke
The eastern pink sky
Drew across the stars
As they faded and lost to the night

 

I called the eagle
To guide me
Piercing whistle
That I learnt as a boy
Running wild and free

 

I walked in the company of men
High above, eagles flew
The wraiths are coming from the otherworld too
Carrying the angst and pain
That has no place and name
Here at Heartstone

 

The screeching and wailing
Increased hideously
The tattered cloaks
Scattering the scree

 

I stood, with the company of men
My bow ready
Arrows drawn
Arm, steady

 

I have trained to defend
Truth and love
Nobility
Chivalry

 

The wraiths gathered
The screeching and wailings
Piercing through
To our souls
We are ready
To fight to the end
To defend
All that is true

 

The flight of an arrow
Unleashed
Steadied by the eagles’ feather
Of brown and gold
It flew
Straight and true
In to the non existent heart
Of a wraith bitter and cold
It was this I slew

 

A bundle of rags fell
For it is not the metal tip
That killed
It was the feather of a Heartstone Eagle
Truth be told
That slew
A wraith, bitter and cold

 

The wraiths flew
From behind the mountain
The   screeching and wailing
Tattered cloaks
Scattering the scree

 

They came in their hundreds
To fall
For, truth and love
From a feather
Of a mighty eagle above
Slew the hearts
Bitter and cold
Brown and gold glow
Flashing by
The flight of an arrow
The archers
Standing tall

 

The gleam of brown and gold
That flew
Deep in to the cold bitter hearts
Of stories now told
Of men of the longbow

 

 

I reached
I pulled 
Many arrows to fly
Of a star
Of a longbow
Aquila am I

 

The longbow of dark wood
Felt my strength
As I clasped its’ bronze inlaid feathers
And reached
And pulled
Arrows of brown and gold
Deep into wraiths
Its’ purpose understood

 
The sky turned black
With eagles that twisted and turned
Of wraiths, slain
Felled by the longbow
Down they fell
In to their own stinking hell
The brown and gold aglow

 

Darkness falling
The fires lit so bright
In a company of men
That celebrated under starlight

 

Remember….
This day well
When the archers
Masters of the longbow
Sent the wraiths back
To their stinking hell
Of Aquila
Who slew
More than most
The flight of an arrow
That holds true

Premium Member What a Grandmother Carries

She strains to find her footing in orthopedic shoes
       my grandmother's clop-clop walk to me
       unbalanced 
       steadied by a backbone of faith

She bears a tattered, red carpet bag, 
       solid wooden handles, worn like her marbled hands
Grandma removes jam tarts and her Bible (smell enticing)
       to tutor me for my Sunday School verses,
       Psalm 23, that welds to memory
Her diligence that I adhere to the lines
       despite my craven pull to tarts (a riveting obsession)
Unfussy delight when I learn the verses
Her glow, free floating, 
       a small harp ovation

Grandmother's carpet bag, stitched by history
       brimming with the sweet lure of baking
       upheld by her faith, like a pulse that hums devotion
       in a drawn body softly folding into itself

Nothing can be swept aside
       when a grandma voices validation
       when generosity extends itself
       when her walk thaws the ground
       when words embroider love
                              ensuring preservation




Poem revised: April 25, 2021

Premium Member High School

I don't care anymore. You are the most wonderful thing I've ever seen in my life. 
Everytime you look at me I want to explode.  You're doing some sort of yoga move in front 
of me which you claim not to be yoga with your 15-year-old autistic client, rubbing your feet 
into his hand, bending over him between a giant cushy yellow soft-leathered cylinder, your 
hair dangling over him, now up in a pony-tail as you resituate your thighs, steadied and 
jeaned in that young and smart physique, a show of craving futures for my sitting nature, 
not more than two feet away.

I will love you from afar with light beams if I must.  We'll be left to devour each other with 
our eyes.  In hot-quick glances.

And She Knows - the 6th Street Series - Part 2

11:45 pm

Spot light’s glare, shadows rocking 
Wooden stage moving beneath my feet
Worn of past performances, steadied for the new breed
Bottles line the edge, dead soldiers, lipstick
Some full, some not, some spilled…nice

She’s there, always there, a comforting sight
Behind the bar, eyes that invite and a laugh that sings
Keeping watch, black printed T, wears it perfectly
Hot as all Hades, but cool as spring
Not sure if she owns this or it owns her…but she knows

Sticks count out the intro… 2,3,4
High on E, bent to a G, this is it, her favorite, 
the one that gets her right there
She looks up at me with that smile, that smile
Loving how this feels in her heart 
And she knows I know…

The way she moves her head from side to side
Eyes closed, lips smooth, shut tight, grooving
Playing an air guitar now, 
She’s good…following my lead fret by fret
She knows how…yes she knows

Maybe I’m in love, no maybe…she is mine
My music is for her, it’s always been for her
And somehow, she’s the lyrics
I have always sung…and always will 
I play D’addario, she plays heart strings…mine

Mouthing the words to the chorus, 
She is my silent harmony tonight, pitch perfect 
This music is us, this club her world, our world
I love this place, I love us and I love her
And she knows…

The 6th Street I am talking about is in Austin Texas. It is the center of the musical world in that city. You can find any kind of music you like being played live in any of a number of different clubs on this street

There are four parts to this series if you care to see them. Actually there are 5, but # 5 would probably be a bit much for this site.

If This Beauty Shall Be My Final Curtain, Let It Be Dropped Slowly - Repost

`

Parched and dry, this barren field stretches,
I wander, head hung low,
staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts
Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath 
my worn out sneakers,
black and white crushing beige
in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust

“My sanity for some cool water”

When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity,
wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze
as if Autumn has come to claim her colors,
to gather her brown and sepia landscape,
pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf
from the chalk textured ground taking it 
where it would suit another, for this is my luck

"Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch”

Like fingers of a silken web’s reach,
a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant 
Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place
once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now
green as if lush has just been defined
with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow, 
pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly

“To whom might I thank for such a gift?”

When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost
slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own
personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart
An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me?
My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle
her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating
to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end?

“If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly”

A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality,
now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime
“I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper,
thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings
melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart,
the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all  

“Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”

She Was Only 16

She didn’t know any better 
Was the excuse of the day 
And 16 is hard enough 
Without sibling children in the way 

“I didn’t birth these urchins,” 
She screamed for no one to hear 
But mom and dad were out the door 
In good spirit, full of cheer 

Selfish 16 year-olds rarely do as told 
And such was true that day 
She took the money they paid her
And she was on her way 

The girl across the pond would do 
So she handed her a twenty 
“I’ll be back before they’re home,” 
For a good time, she had plenty 

And in that smoke filled barn
With laughter, booze and boys 
16 year old had few cares in the world 
Except for that tell-tale noise

She tried to drown it out 
But she knew that she was wrong 
And it didn’t matter even a bit
When they played her favorite song

For the noise in her head grew louder
It tugged it shouted it pulled 
She knew she had to get home, quick 
Her mother could not be fooled 

She steadied her hands on the wheel 
To relieve the stranger sitter 
But the gravel pulled the car from her 
And that’s when it hit her 

Broken glass around an old oak
Sirens blaring from afar 
That one poor choice cost her family
More than just a car 

And In the passing days 
Hushed whispers full of half truths 
Sobbing, crying, asking why? 
16 drunk on 90 proof 

They say she was babysitting
Left the kids all alone 
But she’s not here to tell her side 
She resides beneath granite stone
© Tara Dawn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Drunken Driving

He was known to be a carefree dandy
Once he got boozed up with brandy
Driving his new car
He felt flying in the air
He wailed, “The brake doesn’t come handy”

Because of over speed, broke the car’s tier
Hit it on a tree with a thud severe 
Some people came running
They saw him screaming
In pain, he was springing in the air!

He was lifted up in an ambulance,
With scars all over his countenance.
Some accompanied him
Inside it was quite grim 
He was kept under careful observance

Slowly he showed signs of improvement
On limp legs, there were signs of movement
When steadied in health,
Was sad on ill gotten wealth. 
On wheels, resolved not to be negligent.

March.2.2022
Tall Tale 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Jeff Kyser

Premium Member Love

"An infatuation can grow into a steady affair through love and marriage, but if weakened through silence and indifference, love which is magical can prove critical too"  ~ By Poet


An emotion born through chance
A spark lit through glance
Fanned through appearance
Grown through acquaintance
Confirmed through countenance 
Blazed through romance
Interrupted through absence

Steadied through alliance
Tested through penance
Decreased through silence
Weakened through defiance 
Exhausted through indifference
Worn out through intolerance
Snubbed out through violence

And ended up in divorce!

A Grandmother's Legacy

Warming lights surround you
Quilting the sharp silence
Outside dawn begins
Earth starts stretching 
Straightening out the knots
Caught from hours of slumber
Night moves on to blacken another sky
And Calmness stills the room
All is as it should be

As you drift in an endless sleep
I know not if you'll wake
Or lay your eyes on me once 
more
Softening my heavy heart
As death appears, he waits by 
your side
Head dipped in respect
White and gold robes I study of him
I beg him for more time
An hour, a day, a second 
His comforting eyes say no
It is your time and my heart stills
Now I must let you go

Aged hands under silken skin
Once tended plants and raised children
Loose their warmth
A last breath escapes your 
lungs
I look at death pleadingly 
But nothing can be done
I have to let you go now
You must do this alone

Death picks up your soul up as 
an orb
Glittering like a large diamond
To ferry you to your kin
I see them through the void 
I see them waiting

never again will we sit on the 
porch
As dew wakes up the grass
Trees shacking off the night before
Us, just being us
I'd soak up your wisdom
That resided in your soul
Every snippet a precious gem to me
Id bury them within
Where no other could reach them
Where no other could steal them

I show no tears
As they only fuel pain
From a young age
You taught me to be brave
Knowing my life would shatter 
me
Often I'd feel pain
So your compassion carried me
Over potholes and rocky paths
Your soothing voice steadied 
me
Till I made it safely past

Now Laying out your body
Ready for your last journey
I wonder if I told you enough
The love I have for you
I was blessed everyday 
You were in my life
Things seemed easier 
With you at my side 
Life was not so daunting
The hill was not so steep
Now you gone I'm shattered
Watching an endless sleep

Time with you was precious
For this truth I smile 
The mirror reflects parts of you 
Placed in this heart of mine
Happy you left peacefully 
And I was at your side
Inner gladness reigns 
As not just your jam recipe
Was handed down to me

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