"dov" poems
Spewing hate as usual
Desperate for attention!
Creepy Duchebag rabbi
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
the fountain of poetry
e'er threatens to dry up
yet the inspirational words of Beryl Dov Lew
re-supplied my dwindling cup
with his advice duly given
my expression's reservoir fills to capacity
in a most generous
flow of endless verbosity
had he of not encouraged me
to keep the pen's ink spilling
my Hello Poetry pages
would be empty of shilling
with a mentor of Beryl's calibre
positively re-invigorating my oft dry fountain
I am ever assured of a verse
brimming unto the highest mountain
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
I was born Of a broken family.
Surviving on the skills,
You taught me.
Now I stand in the valley.
Beside the red stream.
Awaiting the arrival.
Of the Dov.
My daggers twirl in my hands,
As I dance with zeal.
Brave but reckless.
Because of youth.
I await thy path,
I must pursue.
The journey ahead,
Will be new.
I am Imperial,
Daughter of the wolves.
My home was Solitude.
Skyrims Capital hold.
I travel this weary path,
Adventuring beyond death.
I doth not fear you,
Dragon of hearthfire.
May my path pay,
The debts of my partners.
They deserve better,
Than the blasted Jarl.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
Jerusalem swings his massive body,
Underneath the falls.
Where only a true warrior,
Will call.
The Throm is close,
Beyond the pallid caves.
Deep beneath the earth.
A fiery vain.
"Be cautious young one,
I fear Alakan is close..
I can smell his smoke...
He is annoyed of us both."
Jerusalem proved worthy,
Of such caution at the time.
With a hand on my blade,
I stride forth.
I seek questions,
And answers.
For my future awaits...
Betrayal is not all to well known,
By the Dov, The Dragon's Age.
"Jerusalem..."
Said a thunderous voice.
"You have come far from home..
What do you seek from Throm?"
Jerusalem growled and raised his wings,
"I have brought my rider Kekay.
She wishes for Answers."
"Kekay...
The Unique Valkyrie,
Betrayed."
Alakan rose from the shadows,
Revealing a massive beast.
His wings were gold and tattered,
His marks red and long.
His horns were of the devil,
But his voice was calm..
"Knoweth of my name,
Tis true indeed.
Yes I am Kekay.
I come in peace..."
With heart pounding,
Soul burning.
We enter with Alakan.
To the Great,
Archaic Library.
The Throm.
Walls lined with books,
Spoken in the Dragon language.
Dov do Hi amal.
This is nothing to imagine..
Alakan uses his talons,
to grasp a globe.
His raises his eyes to me,
Beckoning me forward.
"Come forth,
Take in the Library of the Ancients.."
"Come now,
The Unique Valkyrie.."
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
*( Loki )
1
All ills you have wrought
Mischief maker in the dirt
No shower will cleanse
2
Poor Woolfy Spirit
******* in actuality
You ARE Beryl Dov
3
Thor is your new name
Psychopath reinventing
Same old *** trickster
4
Who is following
The fortune cookie writers
Such lame phony names
5
Fragile ego here
Pages of Wolf and Beryl
Drama queens reeking
6
Even as he leaves
Tireless self promoter
Lowers the banal*
Note:
Wolf Spirit IS Dire Wolf IS Toreanus Pinwinkle III IS Thor IS Beryl Dov IS ******** ( aka ******* ) Rabbi IS soooooo many others - a many-faced pest and pariah, previously banned on other sites for being stalkers and sociopaths !!
See:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1530102/wolves/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1516652/breach/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/832663/beryl-dov/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1527822/not-a-poem-an-open-response-to-wolf-spirit-and-wolf-spirit-dire/
Basically anyone who follows these massive-ego predators is probably them !!
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
In the eyes of mortals,
They are monsters.
Of vibrating destruction.
In the eyes of a Rider,
They are worshipped and strong.
They seek companionship,
A guardian for life.
These creatures fly high,
Over the mountainous peaks,
Through the Evergloom valleys.
Down the rising sea.
They pride their right as Dov.
Rightful to their kin.
They are...
The Dragons.
They are not monsters.
Who create destruction.
They are not viscious,
When it comes to Royals.
These Dragons are so misunderstood.
Cant they live among us,
For the good?
Their sleek scales,
Massive wings,
Ivory claws and spikes.
Two lungs create,
Fire and Ice.
These dragons,
They are breath-taking.
Almost Immortal,
They will outlive a human being.
Don't take them as Deceitful.
They wish not to destroy.
They are guardians of this world.
Our Dragons,
Are definitely.
A riders Bestfriend.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
~
(written in response to one by Beryl Dov)
constellationally speaking
a trophied man is one
whose weaknesses
he has overcome,
those the stars
foretold, ordained;
flaws and blemishes
the gods disdained,
who flies
with herculean
brawn and breadth;
who plies
the star ways
to their dizzying heights
and stairways
to their dismal depths.
he is…
like no other,
he is…
the lonesome
overcomer!
~
*post script.
for Beryl Dov, poet laureate, extraordinaire;
in response to his “The Lonely Astronomer”.
how anyone sees his as anything
negative is beyond me…
i see nothing but
an overcomer’s metaphor.
well done, friend!!
(and yes, by "man"
i do mean mankind)
The Lonely Astronomer:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1182761/the-lonely-astronomer/*
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 8:32 PM UTC
The poem formerly known as 'First taste of bitter' has been rewritten to reflect the lovely people who inhabit this etheral poetic wonderland that is home to many and a refuge to many - inspired by HP's own Elsa
- thank you Elsa :))
My first taste of HP
I was welcomed right away
Day one I had three friends
Peter Hamilton, Cecil and Ana
Is where my HP journey began
From another site I'd arrived
Not seeking fortunes or fame
Just a place to share poems
With people who feel the same
I've always been so welcome here
~ always made to feel at home
Thats down to the friendly poets
Who you all are, you know.
So many, many friendly souls
My, how that list has grown
Thank you HP - I glad I came...
I no longer feel alone
Special thank also to - Poetessa Diabolica, Niamh, Coleen, Shanna, Wolf, Brandon, Evie, ridicule, Beryl Dov, Donna and Sleeping Bag. Much love to everyone who knows me. X
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 9:40 AM UTC
not often do you meet
true gentlemen
perchance two of this kind
I met on Hello Poetry
it has dumfounded me
to see them no longer here
for they were genuinely
courteous and well mannered
indeed
Beryl Dov The ******** Rabbi
a noble guy
his satirical verses
I did heartily enjoy reading
no finer writer
of this ply
WolfSpirit
ever polite and friendly
he supported
his fellow poets
and wrote
from the heart
I'll always have a good word for both of them
kosher
these
gentlemen
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 6:53 PM UTC
Brandon Bless you brother for your Holy Spirit filled poems.
Bless you Elsa , for your heart and God is using your poems.
Bless you Just Melz, Marion,Nicole,Dark and beautiful too.
Wolf Spirit,DC Raw,Ignatinus, David, Timothy, Joshua..
Joe Kevin, Gary L, Traveler, Mike Hauser, Anto MacRuaridh.
Soulsurvivoe, weeping willow,Hilda.Emma, MargotDylan.
I want to name each and everyone of you that I follow/
Beth St Claire, Nicole, Elizabeth Squire,Mark Cleavenger.
Forgotten Heart, Haley Madison, Eudora, Ann M Johnson.n
Vanessa Gatley, Beryl Dov, Mercie B, Paul Butters, Emma.
Nateive Son,Dopperganger, Cecil Miller,My cup overrunth.
Sweetpea, Frank Ruland, olestory teller, Ridicule, Tivonna.
Carolin, Anu, Nicole Dawn. plus so many more inspires me.
Please forgive me if you are not on here I love you all.
Everyone of you inspires me , I see your courage and your love.
May Christ always bless you all abundantly with his blessings.
I see the courage in all of you whom have my life here on HP.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
I met an insomniac through a Craigslist post
Who alleged: She’d stolen > 2000 hearts
On subways/escalators/sidewalks – men turn to toast
(By her gorgon glance, she boasts, even testicles depart) .
How does one ensnare one fashioned of nails and sap?
By invisibility, mirrored shield, winged boots, curved sword?
The heart’s armor, thus arrayed, can easily entrap
This goddess, dreadlocked in her own umbilical cord.
But I do not stoop to conquer, but to please
This walking paradox, over-caffeinated, old soul
Intoxicated by words, music, auteurs (esp. Scorsese) ,
You’re my aurora, glowing green, in the north celestial pole.
Slacker, artist, writer, words have escaped you:
You lay breathless at the foot of your wandering Jew.
by Beryl Dov
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
You're STILL obsessed with ten word poems?
You got ISSUES!
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 3:48 AM UTC
Oh ye student of Gothic complication
How dost thou writhe in a sea of nightly scented jasmine?
How dost thou cast off the shackles of thy piteous life lost?
To effortlessly shed the ruckfall of protagonists
...in a double narrative of well travelled refinement?
Linguistically intriguing it be. the richness therein enthralls.
A depiction of contemporary expression from a student of sleight of hand, wed in a rapture to the knowledge that whatever thou has written, shall flow through the fingers like a waterfall of soft white sand.
M.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
Dov'era l'ombra, or sè la quercia spande
morta, né più coi turbini tenzona.
La gente dice: Or vedo: era pur grande!
Pendono qua e là dalla corona
i nidietti della primavera.
Dice la gente: Or vedo: era pur buona!
Ognuno loda, ognuno taglia.
A sera ognuno col suo grave fascio va.
Nell'aria, un pianto... d'una capinera
che cerca il nido che non troverà.
960
Dolce e chiara è la notte e senza vento,
E queta sovra i tetti e in mezzo agli orti
Posa la luna, e di lontan rivela
Serena ogni montagna. O donna mia,
Già tace ogni sentiero, e pei balconi
Rara traluce la notturna lampa:
Tu dormi, che t'accolse agevol sonno
Nelle tue chete stanze; e non ti morde
Cura nessuna; e già non sai né pensi
Quanta piaga m'apristi in mezzo al petto.
Tu dormi: io questo ciel, che sì benigno
Appare in vista, a salutar m'affaccio,
E l'antica natura onnipossente,
Che mi fece all'affanno. A te la speme
Nego, mi disse, anche la speme; e d'altro
Non brillin gli occhi tuoi se non di pianto.
Questo dì fu solenne: or dà trastulli
Prendi riposo; e forse ti rimembra
In sogno a quanti oggi piacesti, e quanti
Piacquero a te: non io, non già ch'io speri,
Al pensier ti ricorro. Intanto io chieggo
Quanto a viver mi resti, e qui per terra
Mi getto, e grido, e fremo. Oh giorni orrendi
In così verde etate! Ahi, per la via
Odo non lunge il solitario canto
Dell'artigian, che riede a tarda notte,
Dopo i sollazzi, al suo povero ostello;
E fieramente mi si stringe il core,
A pensar come tutto al mondo passa,
E quasi orma non lascia. Ecco è fuggito
Il dì festivo, ed al festivo il giorno
Volgar succede, e se ne porta il tempo
Ogni umano accidente. Or dov'è il suono
Di què popoli antichi? Or dov'è il grido
Dè nostri avi famosi, e il grande impero
Di quella Roma, e l'armi, e il fragorio
Che n'andò per la terra e l'oceano?
Tutto è pace e silenzio, e tutto posa
Il mondo, e più di lor non si ragiona.
Nella mia prima età, quando s'aspetta
Bramosamente il dì festivo, or poscia
Ch'egli era spento, io doloroso, in veglia,
Premea le piume; ed alla tarda notte
Un canto che s'udia per li sentieri
Lontanando morire a poco a poco,
Già similmente mi stringeva il core.
1.1k
You must hail Beryl Dov as our lord and savior.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC
Far over the mountains,
Dwell the Dragons.
Heights undefine their actions.
They fear not,
Their Strumah is home.
Intruders burn.
Beneath the mountains peak,
Dwell the ancestors,
Long-forgotten gold.
Upon the top of the Monahven,
The Elders wait.
For the Dovakiin's flight.
Dovakiin,
You will dwell in Dungeons deep,
And Caverns old.
Your unrelenting force,
Shall clear the hold...
Dov will roar,
In fury.
The Dov,
They fear thee.
Dovakiin,
Dragon Born...
You shall claim that Strumah.
One day.
Alduin's rage did darken the sky,
His roar is fury's fire,
Do not fear.
Destroy him with words of old.
The heroes of Sovangarde,
Shall aid thee.
Joar Zah Frul,
Yol Toar Shul.
Strun Bah Qo.
Fear the Dragonborn's Words.
The Strumah, And the Dov.
They will bow down,
Upon the mountain.
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
Just a note to those here who
Are not familar with me
I AM NOT BERYL DOV
And for those that do know me
WELL DANG!!!!You already knew that.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
Sogno d'un dì d'estate.
Quanto scampanellare
tremulo di cicale!
Stridule pel filare
moveva il maestrale
le foglie accartocciate.
Scendea tra gli olmi il sole
in fascie polverose;
erano in ciel due sole
nuvole, tenui, róse:
due bianche spennellate
in tutto il ciel turchino.
Siepi di melograno,
fratte di tamerice,
il palpito lontano
d'una trebbiatrice,
l'angelus argentino...
dov'ero? Le campane
mi dissero dov'ero,
piangendo, mentre un cane
latrava al forestiero,
che andava a capo chino.
871
Dov'era la luna? Ché il cielo
notava in un'alba di perla,
ed ergersi il mandorlo e il melo
parevano a meglio vederla.
Venivano soffi di lampi
da un nero di nubi laggiù:
veniva una voce dai campi:
chiù...
Le stelle lucevano rare
tra mezzo alla nebbia di latte:
sentivo il cullare del mare,
sentivo un fru fru tra le fratte;
sentivo nel cuore un sussulto,
com'eco d'un grido che fu.
Sonava lontano il singulto:
chiù...
Su tutte le lucide vette
tremava un sospiro di vento;
squassavano le cavallette
finissimi sistri d'argento
(tintinni a invisibili porte
che forse non s'aprono più?... );
e c'era quel pianto di morte...
chiù...
875
( ( ( ( • ( (
) ) ) ) <> ) )
/ ( • ). ( • ) \
#####
Dance child dance
WE DON'T KNOW THE HALF OF IT !
( not even BERYL DOV knows ! )
••
Only we all know
But we too slick to say
//
Falling in love !
Then the --- he left me ( boo hoo ) routine
The -- now I'm hurt and therefore
You can't expect anything from me -- game
••
But the years DO come and go
And the pain remains !
••
•• ••
Dance child dance
Now's the time to **** it up
Now's the time to get things straight
•
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
according to the expert Lovecraft
*did i mention it also called me beryl Dov
**i think it just got banned
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 11:26 PM UTC
It saddens me
No end
that due to
HARSH WORDS
and unremitting lies
I have lost a friend
Screamingnighthog
was and hopefully
will be again,
a poet who supported
and helped grow many
writers, with generous comments
And an open and welcoming heart
I do not believe he is perfect,
But nor do I believe he;
MASQUERADED as beryl dov
or anyone else for that matter!
I write this hoping others join
with me in supporting him and
letting him know he is APPRECIATED
and not in order to denegrate anyone else.
I miss his poetry....
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC
The Weekly Poet
Misspelled his own site should be:
'The Weakly Poet!
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 11:26 PM UTC