"foresworn" poems - Hello Poetry

I spied a mighty albatross Blue-eyed as coral stone With heavenly wings borne like a cross Adrift aloft alone A speckled snow-capped mountain crown Adorned the canopy Upon her white quill-feathered gown Explorer of the sea No wonderland of wintry ice Has thawed unto her touch Nor sand-annointed paradise Played harbour to her clutch The shimmered sun and shadowed moon Are beacons born to be Her rooftop lights through livelong flights Explorer of the sea What maid foresworn to solitude And shackled by her chains Has tasted of a servitude And dreamt not of the reins? Imprisoned thus each land-lorn day By neither lock nor key How must your beaten heart dismay Explorer of the sea? As time the drifter slinks away Upon an ebbing tide I watch you fade from dusk-lit grey To night’s eternal void And left bereft and to atone The deepest sins of me I wonder who is more alone Explorer of the sea?

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Feb 28, 2016

Feb 28, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC

tryst

The Sea Explorer

I spied a mighty albatross Blue-eyed as coral stone With heavenly wings borne like a cross Adrift aloft alone A speckled snow-capped mountain crown Adorned the canopy Upon her white quill-feathered gown Explorer of the sea No wonderland of wintry ice Has thawed unto her touch Nor sand-annointed paradise Played harbour to her clutch The shimmered sun and shadowed moon Are beacons born to be Her rooftop lights through livelong flights Explorer of the sea What maid foresworn to solitude And shackled by her chains Has tasted of a servitude And dreamt not of the reins? Imprisoned thus each land-lorn day By neither lock nor key How must your beaten heart dismay Explorer of the sea? As time the drifter slinks away Upon an ebbing tide I watch you fade from dusk-lit grey To night’s eternal void And left bereft and to atone The deepest sins of me I wonder who is more alone Explorer of the sea?

32

Incantation Strange was the night the harvest moon would serve as the pumpkin dark foreboding grips his heart as he walked what evil brewed There were those recurring stories they were filled with mist had a groggy affect you slipped between the calm to the terrifying Was it true did it really happen he was set to find out he always fancied himself as an investigator one who could probe the stewed First he must find his way into the incandescing glow there he would separate fact from fiction at the very door of Haitian voodoo He was set to meet Papa Legba he was in the form of an old man the gate keeper to the spirits and their world nonsense or truth An old grass shack was where he had been instructed to go he entered saw a few ceremonial items setting on a crude altar One thing for sure this god was not rich but devilment requires not earthen wealth but the souls of it followers behold the sooth This babbler this one who transfixes minds on moon lit nights weaves the web no one will ever escape from and why would they Come to this foreign chasm an opening that invites ever yawning behold its misteh mysteries dare not be afraid you will be wise Here the weak are made strong the dead assist the living feel the cold clammy hand that desires to engulf you just surrender The candles they will bring bondje or bon diea French for good god see him coming from the water under the sea oh great one rise Tell us your humble servant what to do to own the night never to be frightened again by any circumstance you are foresworn as victor Get on with it face your enemies send forth the vestiges of confusion the essence of delusion they will unknowingly do your bidding It comes like a tidal wave the power oh what sway it holds you in its dark embrace moods enliven oh how it pervades stunning There are no bounds no end this was what you were created for rifle the world all contents of moral chains forgotten are you kidding One small thing our agreement has a catch put forth your hand the ceremonial knife must sacrifice tonight I’m the only one here nooo Voodoo has mystery one to die for look well into your own soul on this evil Halloween night

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Jan 1, 2012

Jan 1, 2012 at 5:37 PM UTC

hal-loyd-denton

Incantation

Incantation Strange was the night the harvest moon would serve as the pumpkin dark foreboding grips his heart as he walked what evil brewed There were those recurring stories they were filled with mist had a groggy affect you slipped between the calm to the terrifying Was it true did it really happen he was set to find out he always fancied himself as an investigator one who could probe the stewed First he must find his way into the incandescing glow there he would separate fact from fiction at the very door of Haitian voodoo He was set to meet Papa Legba he was in the form of an old man the gate keeper to the spirits and their world nonsense or truth An old grass shack was where he had been instructed to go he entered saw a few ceremonial items setting on a crude altar One thing for sure this god was not rich but devilment requires not earthen wealth but the souls of it followers behold the sooth This babbler this one who transfixes minds on moon lit nights weaves the web no one will ever escape from and why would they Come to this foreign chasm an opening that invites ever yawning behold its misteh mysteries dare not be afraid you will be wise Here the weak are made strong the dead assist the living feel the cold clammy hand that desires to engulf you just surrender The candles they will bring bondje or bon diea French for good god see him coming from the water under the sea oh great one rise Tell us your humble servant what to do to own the night never to be frightened again by any circumstance you are foresworn as victor Get on with it face your enemies send forth the vestiges of confusion the essence of delusion they will unknowingly do your bidding It comes like a tidal wave the power oh what sway it holds you in its dark embrace moods enliven oh how it pervades stunning There are no bounds no end this was what you were created for rifle the world all contents of moral chains forgotten are you kidding One small thing our agreement has a catch put forth your hand the ceremonial knife must sacrifice tonight I’m the only one here nooo Voodoo has mystery one to die for look well into your own soul on this evil Halloween night

18

At danu's spring, he licked his wings, and prepped his mind to soar, but foresworn maid, with lowly heart he bade, goodye forevermore. What wrath had she? She turned her cheek. No bitterness to behold. He sought only luxury, she cared only for her sheep - thus love, it's cards did fold.

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Jan 26, 2015

Jan 26, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC

jerome-austin-johnson

Choices

At danu's spring, he licked his wings, and prepped his mind to soar, but foresworn maid, with lowly heart he bade, goodye forevermore. What wrath had she? She turned her cheek. No bitterness to behold. He sought only luxury, she cared only for her sheep - thus love, it's cards did fold.

4

Proper with sight seen Making the noise of privilege If not the cares of reprimand Long to the land, we know callousness, like a religion No epitome, no illustriousness In the again of since and a charity Of veracity complete, to a sincere guess The reigning hello, of decision of life, in its variety So made, so accused A marriage of such and conclusions much... To due, the courage to acquire the boding, of enthusiasm Still to worldly eyes, is a relationship with vice the only cause? The only cause to develop a change of merit, into the living Taste and testimony, always were... The taken and made, hour of hope come from a running Stead and foresworn need, the role of vision is for... A head above the water, of mutual suicide Silence of heaven, with a realization of couth Could in the shared eyes of composure, to these even wryed Is a levity in cares, that rise above the uncertainty of carnal who'd?

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Aug 30, 2024

Aug 30, 2024 at 1:02 AM UTC

david-hilburn

The Promises Of Coming Of Age, Right Now

Proper with sight seen Making the noise of privilege If not the cares of reprimand Long to the land, we know callousness, like a religion No epitome, no illustriousness In the again of since and a charity Of veracity complete, to a sincere guess The reigning hello, of decision of life, in its variety So made, so accused A marriage of such and conclusions much... To due, the courage to acquire the boding, of enthusiasm Still to worldly eyes, is a relationship with vice the only cause? The only cause to develop a change of merit, into the living Taste and testimony, always were... The taken and made, hour of hope come from a running Stead and foresworn need, the role of vision is for... A head above the water, of mutual suicide Silence of heaven, with a realization of couth Could in the shared eyes of composure, to these even wryed Is a levity in cares, that rise above the uncertainty of carnal who'd?

20

Soldiers trying to escape the fire of my passion unequipped,they are all gone. King lost with a face of horror, I have almost retreated. It is foresworn that the enemy will seat on the throne. As he is about to abandon his crown by force, he listens to the sweet melodic sound of might. His soldiers may be walking towards Hades but he decides to stand tall and he starts a new killing spree. When I think my heart,my castle shall go on my precious beam of hope falls to the ground. My marvellous king lies still next to my beaten dreams. Oh foolish king, had you allowed me to fight too, a worn out castle would not not be now burning in the hands of your rage.

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Dec 16, 2017

Dec 16, 2017 at 2:30 AM UTC

Ellen101

A worn out castle

Soldiers trying to escape the fire of my passion unequipped,they are all gone. King lost with a face of horror, I have almost retreated. It is foresworn that the enemy will seat on the throne. As he is about to abandon his crown by force, he listens to the sweet melodic sound of might. His soldiers may be walking towards Hades but he decides to stand tall and he starts a new killing spree. When I think my heart,my castle shall go on my precious beam of hope falls to the ground. My marvellous king lies still next to my beaten dreams. Oh foolish king, had you allowed me to fight too, a worn out castle would not not be now burning in the hands of your rage.

18

I'm a plain brown sparrow but I'd like to sing please, don't frighten me away for I'm a wild thing though my hollow bones are broken the voice ain't in the wings I'm a colt, just standing up sometimes my knees shake sometimes I leap and frolic sometimes I'm not awake but my spirit is intact and it will *never break let me sing a song to you I may have to weep but it will sound within you deep calls out to deep let my melody surround you the words will never lie though your own heart break within you and you may have to cry it's a tune for singin' in a rainy sky* Wednesday's child is full of woe suchlike I was born I've been on earth to suffer worldweary and forlorn always needing to be loved ever the foresworn but I never gave it up I knew someday I'd win like a glove, this thing called love becoming vice and gin I searched for it all without BUT FOUND IT WITHIN [chorus] BRIDGE: I found my answer in The Lord in Him I abide I found out the answer was on the INSIDE true love is not a mirage because true love never hides SøułSurvivør (C) 5/12/2017

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May 12, 2017

May 12, 2017 at 7:29 AM UTC

SoulSurvivor

soul's song

I'm a plain brown sparrow but I'd like to sing please, don't frighten me away for I'm a wild thing though my hollow bones are broken the voice ain't in the wings I'm a colt, just standing up sometimes my knees shake sometimes I leap and frolic sometimes I'm not awake but my spirit is intact and it will *never break let me sing a song to you I may have to weep but it will sound within you deep calls out to deep let my melody surround you the words will never lie though your own heart break within you and you may have to cry it's a tune for singin' in a rainy sky* Wednesday's child is full of woe suchlike I was born I've been on earth to suffer worldweary and forlorn always needing to be loved ever the foresworn but I never gave it up I knew someday I'd win like a glove, this thing called love becoming vice and gin I searched for it all without BUT FOUND IT WITHIN [chorus] BRIDGE: I found my answer in The Lord in Him I abide I found out the answer was on the INSIDE true love is not a mirage because true love never hides SøułSurvivør (C) 5/12/2017

52

His high intellect was a whip and a chair to keep the lion of your growing independence at bay. Cowering child, You roared your defiance against proud deaf ears. Now a beast grown with a pride of your own, Your let sound your growl, Your angry howl, But within that defiant song can be heard the whimper of the cub that just wanted to be heard. Stop it. Listen and speak softly for your voice carries and is heard. You are not your father. You are your own man. Two strangers exchange eternal vows. Neither lovers yet fully born. You were more a stranger to yourself than to her. In you she sees a mirror spirit, More lost than found, Lacking an identity to call your own. Her passion, a hot storm built after a lifetime of suppression, Is released by another man. In this and in him she begins to find herself. You think you lost her, yet she was never yours. Oaths sworn by the wraiths of the beings you were yet to become are not considered binding by any council of lovers, Lost or foresworn. You are not her husband. You'll place your ring on another hand. Your eyes swore to possess her as her faery beauty woke within you the imp of desire. Fey creatures know there's magic in ******* Her every whispered breath was poetry as you pressed your stiff need against her back. There was honesty between you even as you lied to yourselves, Just one more kiss, another **** another glass of wine. No amount of pleasure could bury the wrong. It was not your lips she kissed goodnight, Nor your smile which greeted her in the morn. You were her paramour, Her poet, Her escape from another man. She belongs to another man.

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Apr 29, 2014

Apr 29, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC

Mooretosay

Say Goodbye

His high intellect was a whip and a chair to keep the lion of your growing independence at bay. Cowering child, You roared your defiance against proud deaf ears. Now a beast grown with a pride of your own, Your let sound your growl, Your angry howl, But within that defiant song can be heard the whimper of the cub that just wanted to be heard. Stop it. Listen and speak softly for your voice carries and is heard. You are not your father. You are your own man. Two strangers exchange eternal vows. Neither lovers yet fully born. You were more a stranger to yourself than to her. In you she sees a mirror spirit, More lost than found, Lacking an identity to call your own. Her passion, a hot storm built after a lifetime of suppression, Is released by another man. In this and in him she begins to find herself. You think you lost her, yet she was never yours. Oaths sworn by the wraiths of the beings you were yet to become are not considered binding by any council of lovers, Lost or foresworn. You are not her husband. You'll place your ring on another hand. Your eyes swore to possess her as her faery beauty woke within you the imp of desire. Fey creatures know there's magic in ******* Her every whispered breath was poetry as you pressed your stiff need against her back. There was honesty between you even as you lied to yourselves, Just one more kiss, another **** another glass of wine. No amount of pleasure could bury the wrong. It was not your lips she kissed goodnight, Nor your smile which greeted her in the morn. You were her paramour, Her poet, Her escape from another man. She belongs to another man.

35

Wake up from a dream To find yourself alone Sat in a bed In a place that you call home Yet home is not a building, a shelter or a hive Home is were you should feel safe, warm and alive They say home is where the heart is And my heart it lives with you They say home is where the heart is And I speak these words true Home is where I lay my hat, my shoes, my coat, my head Home is not really all that Just a roof, walls and a bed Without the warmth of another my house would just sit bare A sturdy structure with no-one to care So sturdy becomes stable, then stable to forlorn Deserted and derelict Until another is foresworn Foresworn into the structure The structure of my house The structure of my life And what I’m about With the warmth of another it is derelict no more It begins a decoration, a restoration, a change A change for the better The better of my heart The change for one other and the chance for A life to start.

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Jan 12, 2013

Jan 12, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC

josh-morter

My heart is a home

Wake up from a dream To find yourself alone Sat in a bed In a place that you call home Yet home is not a building, a shelter or a hive Home is were you should feel safe, warm and alive They say home is where the heart is And my heart it lives with you They say home is where the heart is And I speak these words true Home is where I lay my hat, my shoes, my coat, my head Home is not really all that Just a roof, walls and a bed Without the warmth of another my house would just sit bare A sturdy structure with no-one to care So sturdy becomes stable, then stable to forlorn Deserted and derelict Until another is foresworn Foresworn into the structure The structure of my house The structure of my life And what I’m about With the warmth of another it is derelict no more It begins a decoration, a restoration, a change A change for the better The better of my heart The change for one other and the chance for A life to start.

28

backwater Ophelias clamp down on flinting ice. her first blanched splash floats the many more of her. foresworn shockproof flowers blush her head, as they do her toe. bitter murk cross-eyed... following along. still.

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Nov 24, 2023

Nov 24, 2023 at 2:20 AM UTC

Onoma

Backwater Ophelias

backwater Ophelias clamp down on flinting ice. her first blanched splash floats the many more of her. foresworn shockproof flowers blush her head, as they do her toe. bitter murk cross-eyed... following along. still.

12

(20 minute poetry) I am not on the short list and now I lust for what I've missed and boy am I really ****** off. I see the colour if reality is red and like the rag to the bull I'd like to pull that list apart. But my realism is pacifism I have foresworn the tearing of limbs and the breaking of heads, steadfast in this conviction I'd still like to **** them and that's a contradiction in terms. Okay So they passed me by on the list, I don't know why, I should be the certainty for the first prize and universally applause would surely follow. Well **** them tomorrow I'll go all inverted get me converted to a new type of.. ...can one of you borrow me a pen? I must have this in writing, Oh yes, Mother says biting my tongue and holding my breath is better the devil than scribing my own death certificate. I bet the list is a fix, see who ***** who and who's in the mix, I picks my own friends, **** it

0

Nov 17, 2015

Nov 17, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Another rain forest

(20 minute poetry) I am not on the short list and now I lust for what I've missed and boy am I really ****** off. I see the colour if reality is red and like the rag to the bull I'd like to pull that list apart. But my realism is pacifism I have foresworn the tearing of limbs and the breaking of heads, steadfast in this conviction I'd still like to **** them and that's a contradiction in terms. Okay So they passed me by on the list, I don't know why, I should be the certainty for the first prize and universally applause would surely follow. Well **** them tomorrow I'll go all inverted get me converted to a new type of.. ...can one of you borrow me a pen? I must have this in writing, Oh yes, Mother says biting my tongue and holding my breath is better the devil than scribing my own death certificate. I bet the list is a fix, see who ***** who and who's in the mix, I picks my own friends, **** it

23

Add a gall, forth with a ghost We dream a poetry in motion Callous old candy, we favor for notice... A place for spooks and terror, that has shared devotion? Odd, the taste in popularity here... Awake and see the form of our destruction Sated forces that claim, the tow of a worldly fear Silly old love, with a simpler friendship for you, a behavior and an intuition... Creations of sin, in the mind's eye, a curiosity to foretell Ancient we are, the prayers and decency of liberality, foresworn With the lips of reality, to these we remember a wishy-washy hell... Days have ended, with a voice to revile; we promise to dusk's forces...? Tale of the dread, in the echo of a beautiful misery Whether you are, or am I the passion of a better youth? Coming of age, with the spare dream of a knowing, history That turns out to be a campy nightmare, with a moment to rueth The movie ends, with a phantom sneeze... Coming from nowhere, and with a sensitive cloth We see the role of sincerity reversed, a delicate lead To a wishes house, where a mercy is the new future of wrath Justice for quiet, the almost of silence served... And broken with the shall we made, for a unique and tender Friendship, of waiting and meaning the world, for a love to work Like a running fool, in love with tomorrow, we see a prayer we lent to life for might's render...

0

Jan 8, 2025

Jan 8, 2025 at 1:54 PM UTC

david-hilburn

Letting An Angel Out Of The Closet, With Death's Haunt

Add a gall, forth with a ghost We dream a poetry in motion Callous old candy, we favor for notice... A place for spooks and terror, that has shared devotion? Odd, the taste in popularity here... Awake and see the form of our destruction Sated forces that claim, the tow of a worldly fear Silly old love, with a simpler friendship for you, a behavior and an intuition... Creations of sin, in the mind's eye, a curiosity to foretell Ancient we are, the prayers and decency of liberality, foresworn With the lips of reality, to these we remember a wishy-washy hell... Days have ended, with a voice to revile; we promise to dusk's forces...? Tale of the dread, in the echo of a beautiful misery Whether you are, or am I the passion of a better youth? Coming of age, with the spare dream of a knowing, history That turns out to be a campy nightmare, with a moment to rueth The movie ends, with a phantom sneeze... Coming from nowhere, and with a sensitive cloth We see the role of sincerity reversed, a delicate lead To a wishes house, where a mercy is the new future of wrath Justice for quiet, the almost of silence served... And broken with the shall we made, for a unique and tender Friendship, of waiting and meaning the world, for a love to work Like a running fool, in love with tomorrow, we see a prayer we lent to life for might's render...

24