"vied" poems
I
As I ride, as I ride,
With a full heart for my guide,
So its tide rocks my side,
As I ride, as I ride,
That, as I were double-eyed,
He, in whom our Tribes confide,
Is descried, ways untried
As I ride, as I ride.
II
As I ride, as I ride
To our Chief and his Allied,
Who dares chide my heart’s pride
As I ride, as I ride?
Or are witnesses denied—
Through the desert waste and wide
Do I glide unespied
As I ride, as I ride?
III
As I ride, as I ride,
When an inner voice has cried,
The sands slide, nor abide
(As I ride, as I ride)
O’er each visioned Homicide
That came vaunting (has he lied?)
To reside—where he died,
As I ride, as I ride.
IV
As I ride, as I ride,
Ne’er has spur my swift horse plied,
Yet his hide, streaked and pied,
As I ride, as I ride,
Shows where sweat has sprung and dried,
—Zebra-footed, ostrich-thighed—
How has vied stride with stride
As I ride, as I ride!
V
As I ride, as I ride,
Could I loose what Fate has tied,
Ere I pried, she should hide
As I ride, as I ride,
All that’s meant me: satisfied
When the Prophet and the Bride
Stop veins I’d have subside
As I ride, as I ride!
3.6k
The shining stars are sunk in darkness deep,
The weary sun is dead at night,
The moon’s soft smile doth fade anon;
But still my soul is marching on!
The grinding wheel of time hath crushed
Full many a life of moon and star,
And many a brightly smiling morn;
But still my soul is marching on!
The flowers bloomed, then hid in gloom,
The bounty of the trees did cease;
Colossal men have come and gone,
But still my soul is marching on!
The aeons one by one are flying,
My arrows one by one are gone;
Dimly, slowly, life is fading,
But still my soul is marching on!
Darkness, death, and failures vied;
To block my path they fiercely tried.
My fight with jealous Nature’s strong,
But still my soul is marching on!
2.7k
I wish I was blind
To leave the superficial behind,
Take a breath from drowning
In the insignificance of my surroundings.
Beauty is the illusion that escapes the surface of me,
I can never find it in the reflection I see.
It has been defined in straight lines
And by the passage of time.
You see that magazine girl?
It makes my head swirl,
Popping off the page
SHE owns the stage.
I once vied for so-called perfection,
Clawing at my face and body
Ripping apart, section by section.
Epiphany struck me to no longer chase it
For it is a mirage that disappears the closer you get.
I peer through transparent skin,
Searching for what lies within.
I desire to find something more,
To learn to shut out the ramblings of a shallow world.
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
Current events are conducive
with nonchalant seeming pace
When future springs surprises
with time I will learn to face
Cheery is current subsistence
and freewill so far I propound
Confines once start stifling
I may break newer ground
Perceptive mind is still active
infinite inspirations all about
If my illusions start dissipating
new pastures I would scout
Resources are just adequate
for me to earn daily bread
In days of desolate penury
will take what fate’s spread
Traversed I have distances
to seek serenity for my mind
Treks in future if improbable
then peace within I will find
Environs are lush and verdant
their magic for one to behold
As autumn spreads it’s magic
with different shades of gold
Realism is a confusing passage,
through many an abyss and ridge
Each nuance to be vied aptly
while coming to cross any bridge
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
She robbed me, untill
There was nothing left.
I too did the same while
She was busy at it.
Who did first, or what exactly,
All that are immaterial.
I could vividly member
What her eyes did magically,
Bringing us to
The point of convergence.
Then a haze did spread
Our hot pursuit started,
On planes higher and higher.
Then there was the
Request from her inner depth
Without any word uttered.
"Oh! take it all" a blanket permit,
No doubt,
I heard my heart echoing it
With a fervour to outmatch,
When it got back to her
We were fighting the fire
Our hearts set on with desire,
Isn't it she who first
Sobbed with pleasure?
No! we both vied with each other
To make it a sonorous chorus.
In this heist who did what
Could never be charted
In any order,
Time and space got jumbled
During the course of this heist!
Suffice to say, it happens
Mostly once in a lifetime,
If lucky you really are, that is.
What more can one ask for
To recount to your kids
On the ritual of passing the baton?
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 7:29 PM UTC
Wind in the night. Rain against the curtained window. At the approach of morning the dawn chorus vied with the wind’s swirl and the rain’s beat. In rare moments of calm a blackbird’s solo song sang. Listening, listening whilst still seeking sleep there is a continuous presence of grey sound; are there waves tumbling on a beach, or is it air conditioning sounding across an empty room? Now drawing the curtains the morning is revealed in a tumultuous garden. Branches are thrown upwards into the dripping sky, downwards to the wind-blown grass. On the rain-drenched patio the mirroring flags are dotted with pear blossom.
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 3:39 AM UTC
A line of trees in massive form
Encroach along a ridge of stone,
Gnarled, bent and weather worn
Their clinging roots call granite home.
This ancient wood has weathered time
Felt the freezing gales of snow,
Has witnessed birth and death by day
Through life's kaleidoscopic show.
Oh the stories they can tell
When sunshine in the heavens ,warm,
When rivers run in merry tune
And safflower honey bees do swarm.
Oh the stories they can tell
When fillies kicked their heels in grass,
When whippoorwills did sing their song
And rampant stallions vied for class.
Oh the stories they can tell
When ancient armies trod this way
When clashing steel rang loud and clear
And good blood flowed in battle fray.
Oh the stories they can tell
When faceless horsemen galloped by,
The stench of putrid fear's lament
When populations bled to die.
Oh the stories they can tell
Of mountain peaks succumbed to fire,
Where ash removed the very sun
And panicked people fled the dire.
Oh the stories they can tell
Of black and white and good and bad
....But immaterial, perhaps, to trees
Who root in rock and seem so sad.
Marshalg
Taranaki dreamin'
26 May 2011
May 25, 2011
May 25, 2011 at 9:49 PM UTC
The son of a carpenter climbed a cross
And Saturnalia was lost forever…
Slaves, adorned in masters clothing
once drank out of the golden goblet and goosed the mistress
vied with paupers for King of Fools
banged pots and pans, slept with sloe-eyed boys til morning
poked, prodded, pampered, kissed, and loved again
The solemn lords of the city peered from their heavenly contemplations
and felt, like a worm in the mysticism of direct communication with god
a bit of remorse, a hint of resentment against the marble steps,
a yearning for the dance, for the abandonment of the senses
for a pageant worthy of those ***** old gods
MITHRAS, BACHUS, DIANA, DISCORDIA.
Before Christmas pushed jostled and shoved the holiday
out of the way,
we opened our homes to all the poor
they become the masters for the day.
while we ran behind with dishcloths and wild cries of
DON”T BREAK THAT
and infused with a small perverse pleasure
took our masks down for a night -
I will play sly servant lass
while my staid husband is forced into corners
with women who struggle to keep their teeth in
And their children fed.
If there were no Jesus,
the tree would still go up for the Norse
the presents still go out for the British
the children still adored for Saturn
the feast still cooked for the old Germanic tribes –
humility, guilt and being saved, saved, saved
saved from the drunkards in the streets,
saved from the firecrackers, the happy children, the Yule log,
saved the togetherness, the topsy-turvy of this most celebrated
happy out-of-control neighborly Solstice ancient block party-
That came from Christ.
Thanks Jesus, you old scrooge.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Brave men run toward the flames
when others turn and flee.
Without such courage all is lost,
there could be no victory.
From fire Station Number Seven
the men of Prescott heard the call.
"Go and set a fire break
near the town known as Yarnall.
It was a race against the clock.
Their team of twenty vied
to wall off the drought fueled flames
before a whole town died.
A stroke of lightening set the blaze
that would consume them all.
With the county suffering a drought,
the trees were tinder dry.
when wicked Western winds whipped up
the Granite Hotshots died.
In the town of Prescott, Arizona
in fire station number seven
A stained glass window commemorates
men who died deserving heaven.
Brave men run toward the flames
when others turn and flee.
Without such courage all is lost,
there can be no victory.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 7:26 AM UTC
All are not born with same talent wide
So are looked upon badly, get chide
Without any mistake they stride
Trying to overcome aversion and pride.
Such children are made stand at curbside
And never in limelight nor can they decide
Where to win or verve or vigor or hide.
Such a boy is Neelraj, whom I too cried
Bad words and treatment. Later I sighed
In his support who was naughty and vied
For excellence in his behavior to ride
The position he not aspired for in pride.
Hence again I like to say – Never divide
Children in class and creed; nor deride
Them for what they not had spied.
Neelraj’s naughtiness and mischief can be dried
Into obedience, respect and duty; not to snide.
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC
Heading for the next election,
Votes vied for by vicarious politicians,
Who are we all voting for?
Is it for their superannuation? Or,
Streamlining services to sway us,
Does Oz really needs such fuss?
We're walking on the winning side,
Let's have some more Hi-fives!
Debates due no direction,
Teen brain selfie obsessions,
These are our politicians,
It's a short, amusing ride,
Someone pass vicarious pesticide!!!
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 3:46 AM UTC
you're the oldest in the line
you're now the matriarch
exclaimed my beloveds...
**** how'd this happen?!
I thought with a start- cuz
this is not a part
that i tried for
expected or vied for
All i did was keep livin...
didn't even do it
to my own satisfaction
but all of my mothers are long gone... and
i had to learn to
be my own caution sign
listen to my own still small voice
hug myself when necessary... and
it's taken quite some time
to reconcile me with me
come to grips with my nature
find my
Individuals Peace
which is good... ultimately...
Cuz all of my mothers
are gone
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
It was a cold August morning
and the wind, it sighed.
The mist wrestled the light;
valiantly, but in vain it tried.
The smartest man of the world
took one look at it and cried,
How?
The fiends looked so innocent when they lied.
What?
The ambitious, so callous when they stride.
When?
The pious, so righteous when they deride.
Why?
The pure, so broken, they complied.
He hatched his plot
threw trivialities aside.
He dared with a vengeance,
his actions belied.
How he healed the hurt!
And he'd hardly even tried.
What a way he sated the rapacious!
Into harmony they had vied.
When he showed honor to the honorable,
he was wary not to toe their pride.
And the pure,
they died.
'Why, then do I now not wonder why?'
unto the light and mist he cried.
It was a cold August morning
and the wind, it sighed.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
The room was dark,
and my screen was bright.
Pale hand on my mouse,
oh I was ready to fight.
"Welcome to the rift"
the game had began.
I bought my first items,
and to my lane I ran.
I made some bad calls,
but the team had my back.
The seconds passed us by,
the deaths started to stack.
Forty-two minutes in,
neck and neck we stood.
An ace would end the game,
yet neither of us could.
With dragon on the line,
both teams vied for power.
Fighting ensued and we had won,
for their ADC chose to cower.
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 6:40 PM UTC
Love was never for dreamers
for it shows dreams of its own
never fulflled not even close
dreamers have died seeing this unending prose.
I dont wish to die
never hoped for it or vied.
i wish to fly
even if it means to be alone.
My love may never come true
nor do my dreams of us
i will make dreams of my own
and fly and fly all alone.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
Gems of world - all girls my pride
Are happy and make so when tried;
Drashti & Mansi – best friends tied
To another as a fly to sugar when spied.
Sanjana and Dhruvi with all stride
Ahead to make others deride.
They are my charms and pride -
Intelligently innocent, and guide
For me and class in our collide.
Lucky is a silent asteroid
Who bursts in hostel wide.
Darshana innocently flied
In hostel during Yoga allied
With Udita who always denied
To be a part of Yoga, but tried
To save skin by moving aside
When problems don’t subside.
Meshwa and Tamanna – bromide;
Burst in class if one belied.
All nine gems of Akbar’s I vied
In my sweet angels without snide
I hope they’ll never forget my bestride
For them and come in my cyanide.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 8:32 AM UTC
You ask me why I don’t talk to you,
You always ask me why I don’t trust you
You always ask me why I’m never around.
Why should I trust someone
Who always puts me down?
Why should I talk to someone
Who doesn’t care?
Why should I be around someone
Who never believed in me?
It’s your own fault for the relationship we have now,
You never cared about me
You never noticed the things I would do
You never saw how I vied for your attention
You ask me how I ended up like this
You ask me why I put myself down,
Do you not remember those words YOU spit at me?
Do you not remember YOU always discouraged me?
Do you not remember how YOU hurt me?
I’ve been told,
Since I’ve been young,
That I won’t be anything.
Don’t you think that sticks?
The words thrown at me,
For years,
“You can’t be creative”
“You won’t be anything great”
“Your dreams are unattainable”
“You’re hopeless”
These words might seem like nothing,
But they impacted me.
I have so little self-confidence,
That I won’t even TRY to be better.
I resigned myself to be nothing
To be a nobody,
To just fit in,
All because you couldn’t praise me,
You didn’t help
You didn’t ever say anything nice,
You just destroyed my dreams,
So my failure,
Is on you.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 1:13 PM UTC
We laid in my bed
as the snow fell all around
but I felt the chill.
You stroked my hair
as I kissed your lips
I felt you pull away.
I still see red
with feet firmly on the ground
you took away the thrill.
A vacant stare
my beating heart skips
if only to end the day.
Trying to clear my head
my ears pounds
trying to find the will.
All I did was care
as you vied for my hips
but you wouldn't stay.
My feeling left for dead
falling making no sound
river of emotions comes to a still.
Love is hard to bare
tears from my cheek drips
how could you leave me this way?
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 11:25 AM UTC
Greenleigh:
Rounding your cottage side,
There you were, bundles tied,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
What plan were for the blooms?
In the kitchen rose fumes,
You truly hoped for a tryst,
Wine love potion cauldron,
Boiled in my drink to stun,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed.
Haven:
My beauteous neighbor,
I submit to ardor,
All in obscure struggles midst,
I see your distant gaze,
But you I try to faze,
You were all to me exist,
“I will beckon at noon,
In this hot summer June,”
All in obscure struggles midst.
Greenleigh:
But as I spy, I think,
Then discreetly slink,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
I culled my own blossoms,
His allures my thraldoms,
I truly hoped for a tryst,
To you a bit of remorse,
Yet my heart waxed full force,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
I catch the way you stare,
I will avoid our affair,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Supplanted your fetters,
Entreaty, scrawled letters,
He were all to me exist,
I thought to meet halfway,
Might I be led astray,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Wyn:
And I received her word,
Intended a detour,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
Read the book of magic,
My love to you chronic,
I truly hoped for a tryst,
Donned my riding garments,
Leas, with my assortments,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
Her eyes, you I outshone,
Heedless to her writ tone,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Fancied your ivor teeth,
Smooth skin, your clothes ‘neath.
You were all to me exist,
In daydreams I drifted,
Blunders, I self chided,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Greenleigh:
Shocked when I saw him trot!
With grasp I became fraught,
All in obscure struggles midst,
He visits you, not me,
Deceit deserved, yet plea!
You were all to me exist,
Could not look in his eye,
Yet utter not goodbye,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Haven:
“Neighbor, wrong I done ye!”
I watch only blankly,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Her twisted mouth distressed,
No one thought we were blessed,
You were all to me exist,
I mumbled, brimming tears,
Should have asked direct, fears,
All in obscure struggles midst,
He was the fool of fate,
Confused yet did await,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
I vied for your full love,
As you to his yet shove,
I only hoped for a tryst,
Rapt in misconceptions,
Mocked us, even aspens,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
All:
Yet not so sly were we,
Does cognizance come bleak,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
We greeted happenchance,
What’s left but insistence?
Our furtive attempts yet missed,
Admit not errs, turn rightwards,
Fracturing our concords,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
Greenleigh:
Anxiously sipped bottles,
And did we start battles,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
Suffused eyes, flushed faces,
Affects spill, anguishes,
Our furtive attempts yet missed,
We die lone in shambles,
Bonds of love in scrambles,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed.
Feb 10, 2020
Feb 10, 2020 at 7:53 PM UTC
The giant bird
his feathers black
runs along
his favored track
I crouch down low
amid the reeds
the spear I hold
toward, he speeds
the time has come
my family starves
through frozen air
my spear tip carves
Flying true
Or maybe wide
with wind and
gravity it vied
and will it hit?
and bring him down?
will I return
to great renown?
The darkness comes
the sun has set
the snow alights
the valley wet
I see the fire
on the ridge
my arms are sore
but just a smidge
for I return
a huntress true
with meat enough
for all of you
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 10:47 PM UTC
I feel like nothing.
Like I'm washed up and overrated.
Like I'm some type of loss,
But not quite unimportant enough
To go unnoticed,
But not quite important enough
To really be vied after.
And maybe it's just me,
Because honestly it doesn't strike me bad
Enough to make me cry,
But it strikes me enough to sigh,
And know this is what I'm probably worth.
A response,
A small phrase of comfort,
But probably nothing more,
Probably nothing less.
But I so desire
To be held and told
That maybe it's alright,
That maybe I'll be able
To sleep tonight.
But how can I rest,
How can I breathe,
When the monsters come for me
Even in my dreams.
There's no escape,
And there's nowhere to run.
He's destroyed what worth I had,
And I'm just so done.
And wish I may,
And wish I might,
I don't have it in me,
I can't fight the past-- Can I even fight?
I wanted to be braver,
I wanted to be stronger.
But I can't do it on my own,
I can't do it any longer.
I know for sure that you'll
Help me get through,
But I'm terrified of
What this means for you.
And I'm absolutely terrified,
Of something I can't see.
It's this monster I know too well,
It's this monster that follows me.
I wish I could
Change my way,
But I don't know what to do,
Nor do I know what to say.
And I love you so,
And I know you love me too,
But with this monster beside me,
What are we supposed to do?
I need your arms around me,
As soon as you can manage.
I hope you read this.
What the hell rhymes with manage?
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 4:35 PM UTC
The famous last words,
When you are finished with the world,
After the deed has been made,
Or the blackmail has been laid,
Following the end of the job,
Or when lives have been robbed,
This is what they mostly say,
After swimming through every day,
Some are given the sweet remorse,
While others bury the neat discourse,
Not all are clean of debt,
Especially to their revenge of death,
Because they never died,
They **** everyone they like,
For every soul they vied,
Never reciprocated they vile pikes.
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
lipstick stains
and beyond
at the backseat
and all over my brain
i missed the tears
under the covers
disappearing
like little favours
leave me alone
i will close that track
cross the threshold
and mind the gap
i vied for this
this vile acridity
this insane stupidity
and i believe in
the reverse of sense
hoping tragedies
like a sceptical god
a symphony like
sweet medicines to
kick in when the
lights rage in blood
forget about me now
my floral imprints
blossoming on skin
pretty in red and pink
are nothing but
butterfly memories
fleeting and fugacious
as cold as your kiss
hug that jacket tighter
and close both eyes
the walk is shorter
than this long drive
but if your lips bruise
or your fingers tire
from singing back
dear, i’ll douse the fire
my gasoline’s empty
and i’m almost out
this is all falling apart
so hold your mouth
and when everything
fades out slowly to
music and black
as you forget to listen
you will find that i
wiped away all of the
evidence, and the
lipstick stains are missing.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 2:32 PM UTC
i dance, i dance
to my starry-eyed love song.
i dance, i dance
even in ash, we’ll sing along.
eyes and ears like cinder bricks,
their faces have known no hue.
and pretty, pure, wretched white flowers
vied for sun from the cracks in their skin.
“take root, child,” they whispered a lullaby
veiled in milky, murky convictions,
it’s a dead language the flowers sing,
their soles will batter all the ends of the earth.
undeserved, unfair, unending is their floral dance,
dust clung—desperate—to a serrated stem:
every swipe of the tender, silken dress
is a strike to their shaded, cavern cheeks.
we’ll dance, we’ll dance
to our teary-eyed love song.
we’ll dance, we’ll dance
to the song strung centuries long.
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 10:05 AM UTC