Tag Archives: Poetry

I Am Earth. A Poem

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I am Earth.
I am your mother.
I gave you birth.

I gave you a nest.
A wonderful home
On which you can rest.

I gave you food .
Plenty to eat.
You waste all that’s good.

I gave you the seas
And forests and hills,
But you chop down the trees.

You think you’re so cool,
But you pollute the air
By the burning of fuel.

You heat up the air
And care not a jot
For the poor polar bear.

Animals die
Because of your greed.
You hear not their cry.

I teemed with life,
Both great and small.
Yet extinction is rife

Like a cancer you spread
Throughout the whole world.
It won’t end till you’re dead.

But I’ll make you pay
For all you have done.
You’ll be sorry one day.

I’ll shiver my skin.
Your buildings will fall
And bury your kin.

The land I will flood
By raising the seas
And drown all in mud.

My mountains so high
Will belch forth their flames
And you will all die.

I am Earth.
I am your mother.
I gave you birth.

BUT I WILL DESTROY YOU.

Crisalisk, The Red Dragon (a poem)

Today is the third Tuesday in the month, and so it’s poetry day.

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This poem is about a dragon who you can meet in my next book, yet to be published. Crisalisk and her mate Monarlisk are separated by Monarlisk losing a fight to another male dragon for the attentions of Crisalisk, but this poem refers to a time before that.

Her scales are the red
Of sunset in Autumn,
Her eyes are the gold
Of midsummer sun,
Her horns are as white
As snowfall in winter
And she dances on high
Like the birds do in spring.

Her beauty is evident
To all who do see her.
Her grace in the sky
Is a joy to behold.
With pinions spread wide
She dives then she soars
But beware, if she sees you,
Her flames she’ll release.

She thinks she’s the queen
Of all that surround her.
All other things living
Are there just to serve.
If any refuse her
She roars out her challenge
As Death on wide wings
Dives down from the skies.

But who is it comes
On black wings high soaring?
‘Tis Monalisk who
Is her mate and her love.
For him she will bow down
Her arrogance dwindling
For he is her only
True love in the land.

This is a poem that has no rhymes. Poetry does not need to rhyme, but it has to have either rhyme or rhythm or it’s just prose broken into lines.

 

Poetry nowadays seems to be that way, I’ve read many so-called poems that have neither rhyme nor rhythm. One had short lines, then suddenly a long line that took up 2 lines of text. Some of the poems I’ve read are incomprehesible too. I may be old fashioned in my ideas, but those things aren’t poetry!

If you have any comments on this poem or on poetry in general, please add them to the comments section.

Hypocricy. A poem.

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Today is a day when I share some more of my writing. Today it’s another poem.

Hypocrisy

We like our village churches
But we don’t go there.
We love our local pub
But we don’t drink there.
We don’t want them to close
Though no one ever goes.

Our roads, they are congested
With cars for everyone.
The others shouldn’t have them
But we, of course, need one.
It should be other folk
Who give it up and walk.

Aircraft fly above us
Polluting all the air.
We think there should be fewer
But we still fly o’er there.
We need our holiday
No matter come what may

We don’t like highest earners
But want to earn as much.
We eat our meals with wine
But we don’t know too much.
We really like to think
We understand our drink.

We highly praise the classics,
But we don’t read them.
We talk of works of Art
But never see them.
We think we are so highbrow
But brows are really quite low.

We say we all hate rumour
But spread the gossip.
We say we understand things
When we don’t, not one bit.
Hypocrites are we
And we always will be.

A Halloween Poem

First of all, may I apologise for the lateness of this post. I got back from holiday on Sunday at 10pm and had everything to do on Monday, including looking after my grandchildren in the afternoon. I probably should have scheduled it, but I thought I’d have time. Silly me!

Anyway, I’ve just entered the following poem into a Halloween Poetry Competition. I thought you’d like to have a look at it.

 

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Hallowe’en

The moon has hidden her face tonight
Turned away from the Earth.
The clouds are scurrying away in fright
From what the night may give birth,
For tonight the veil is thin.

The wind is blowing the leaves around.
They hide in crannies and nooks.
Cowering, shivering, hope not to be found
By phantoms, ghosts and spooks,
For tonight the veil may tear.

Build a bonfire, create some light.
The spirits are afraid.
They like the shadows, shun what’s bright
And lurk within the shade
For tonight they cross the veil.

Ghouls and spectres, wraiths and shades
Return to Earth tonight.
We’re filled with dread as daylight fades.
The smallest sound will give us fright
For tonight the veil has gone.

I would be interested in what you think of my effort. Please leave a comment, or sign up to my email list.

Dragons Fly

I’ve posted this before, but forgot. I promised aurosjnc I’d post it this week as he’s collecting dragon works, so if you’ve read it before, please forgive me.

 

dragons

 

DRAGONS FLY

Dragons fly
Soaring high
Tiny specks up in the sky.

Dragons swoop
And loop the loop
Then come together in a group.

Dragons dive
Up there they thrive.
They all love to be alive.

Dragons flame.
It’s just a game
They are wild, they are not tame.

Dragons play
Above the bay.
Dangerous beauty. Do not stay!

Please leave a comment in the comment box and I’ll get back to you.

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Elven Evening Song from The Wolf Pack by V.M.Sang

 

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During their return from finding the Sword of Sauvern, the companions passed through the Elven homeland of Rindisillaran and stayed in the capital, Quatissillaron/ there they heard the beautiful song the elves sing at dusk.

 

Elven Evening Song

Ah equillin ssishinisi
Qua vinillaquishio quibbrous
Ahoni na shar handollesno
As nas brollenores.

Ah equilin bellamana
Qua ssishinisi llanarones
As wma ronalliores
Shi nos Grillon prones.

Ah equilin dama Grillon
Pro llamella shilonores
As nos rellemorres
Drapo weyishores.

Yam shi Grillon yssilores
Grazlin everr nos pronores
Wama vinsho prolle-emo
Lli sha rallemorres.

Translation

“Oh star of the evening
Shining brightly
You give us hope
In the deepening night.

Oh beauteous star
Who heralds the evening
You tell us all
That Grillon guards us

Oh Grillon’s star
As you sink westwards
Return again
To guard the dawn.

Ensure that Grillon
Through darkness keep us
Safe from all evil
Until the morn.”’

A poem to commemorate WW1

I make no apologies for re-posting this poem. I wrote it 2 years ago to commemorate the anniversary of the start of  World War One. As July 1st is the 100th anniversary of the terrible battle of the Somme, I thought I’d post it rather than the next episode of The Wolf Pack. That I’ll post next week instead.

My Great Uncle Jim, whom I mention in the poem. came back too, but he died shortly afterwards from the results of gassing. The lady known as Auntie Polly, who was his fiancee at the time, never married, but the family always treated her as though they had been.

‘Our Poor Willie’ was also my great uncle. He was my maternal grandmother’s brother. She always referred to him as ‘our poor Willie,’ but no one ever knew why.

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WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.

I’ll never truly understand
How World War I began.
The death of Archduke Ferdinand
Started the deaths of many more
The young, the old, the rich, the poor.
All died with guns in hand.

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My Grandad went with Uncle Jim
And Our Poor Willie, too.

They sent them off, singing a hymn.
Grandad went to Gallipoli,
Uncle Jim left his love, Polly.
Gas in trenches did kill him.

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I cannot see, in my mind’s eye
Grandad with gun in hand.
A peaceful man, sent out to die.
He fought for us, for you and me
So we can live and so that we
Safely in our beds may lie.

Grandad came home, and Willie too,
But millions more did not.
Their duty they all had to do.
They died in fear, in noise, in blood.
Everything was caked in mud.
Yet in those fields the poppies grew.

The War to end all wars, they said,
So terrible were the deaths.
The youth of Europe all lay dead.
Yet 21 short years to come
Another war. Once more a gun
In young men’s hands brought death.

One hundred years have passed since then.
What have we learned? Not much!
Too many men are killing men.
Wars still abound around the world.
Bombs and missiles still are hurled
At those who disagree with them.

V.M.Sang

July 2014

I make no apologies for this poem not being in the modern idiom of no rhymes and little rhythm. I’m old-fashioned enough to think that poems ought to differ from prose, and many modern ones I’ve read are little different. That doesn’t necessarily mean rhyming though. I’ve written blank verse myself on occasion.

I also think that they ought to be comprehensible!

Please leave a comment in the comments section.

A poem in answer to a challenge.

roman centuryA Roman Century

This poem was difficult to write. The challenge was to take the seventh book on your bookshelf, look at t he seventh chapter and take the seventh sentence in that chapter.  At least I think it was that. It was close anyway. The you used that sentence to start a poem.

The book I found to be the seventh book was one on the Roman Empire and the seventh sentence in the seventh chapter was ‘The Roman Legion also had other skills.’ Not and easy thing to write a poem about. (I was tempted to cheat, but then thought that it was a good exercise anyway.)

 

Here is my attempt.

 

A ROMAN LEGION

A Roman legion also had other skills
As well as its ability in war.
As builders, Roman soldiers were not poor
And built a wall for Hadrian ’cross the hills.

When soldiers met a river, wide and deep
A bridge they built to get across the flow.
The soldiers toiled in sun of rain or snow
And if some died, well OK life was cheap.

Vercingetorix was a Celt from Gaul
Who won a massive battle, but in vain.
They soon lost all that they had gained
And Roman soldiers camped outside the wall.

The siege engines the Roman soldiers built
Bombarded all the walls around the town.
Their engineering capabilities shown
And Vercingetorix’s strength did wilt.

The soldiers built the roads so straight and true
Joining all their governed lands to Rome.
Where the Emperor did sit upon his throne
And that is why the empire grew and grew.

The soldiers sewed their clothing, built the roads,
And bridges, walls and siege engines as well.
They fought and conquered as the stories tell
And beat the Celtic peoples in their woad.

The legions helped the Empire last so long.
Fighters, engineers and builders, they
Worked hard and long, they toiled throughout the day
To make the Roman Empire wide and strong.