Most Viewed Sestina Poems (15)

While fishing at a pond,
Belonging to a friend,
Summer, late afternoon,
Twas very near day's end.

There came an eerie sound,
A woman's mournful moan,
As if in horrid pain,
It chilled me to the bone.

Looked around behind me,
To where the cry had came,
But nothing did I see,
No villain there to blame.

Climbed up the embankment,
To have a look around.
Scanned the brush most careful,
No damsel to be found.

Called out to the forest,
"Do you need help?" I cried.
Only voice an echo,
Back from the other side.

Darkness was approaching,
I fin'lly walked away.
With that scream still haunting,
Can hear it to this day.

Called my friend the owner,
To tell him of my dread.
He laughed so hard he cried.
"A screech owl!!!"'s what he said.

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WALKING ALONG THE BEACH I CAME ACROSS A LAMP
OLD AND TIRED IT LOOKED SO I TOOK IT HOME AND GAVE IT A WIPE
OH BLEES MY SOUL A GENIE HE DID POP OUT
BIG AND HUGH AND SMELLING OF STOUT

WITH A MIGHTY CRY HE BELOWED OUT
YES MASTER WHAT DO YOU WANT
WITH A WIMPER AND A CRY I SAID WITH TREMBLING BREATH
THREE WISHES IS WHAT I WANT

THREE WISHES THE GENIE CRIED YOUR HAVEING A LAUGH
DO YOU THINK I CAN MAKE WISHES COME TRUE
OH YES I CRIED
OK SAID THE GENIE WITH A LAUGH AND A SNEER I WILL TRY

WHAT IS YOUR FIRST WISH HE CRIED
WISH NUMBER ONE I WANT TO HAVE SOME FUN
WISH NUMBER TWO BUILD ME A MANSION AND A PRETTY WOMAN INSIDE
WISH NUMBER THREE TO WIN THE LOTTERY

looking out to sea ,metal statues you can see
lined in rows for all to see
where works or art for all to see
rooted here near the sea

the cold the damp dont bother me the tides come in and washes against me coverd in sea weed we can hide covered beneath the sea
we hide all night beneath the sea fishes swim next to me
we are hiden beneath the sea

like white horses the sea laps at me ready to cover us up here tetherd are we motionless lying in the sand here under the sea
its a new dawn the sea resides into the fresh air we glide the
sun shines glinting on me
coverd in sea weed am i standing watching waiting all i can do looking out to sea is all i can do tetherd to were i stand am a statue standing in the sand

I was walking through puddles of oatmeal
As other folks drove behind a steering wheel
I was stuck in a park putrefied by puke
With no apologies nor lies I wished to rebuke

I was floating in a lake filled with dog shit
Lucky there were no dogs present who bit
However there was this tiger running loose
As I watched that tiger consume a goose

at this time I really don’t want to haggle
But it could have been one goose or a gaggle
I was trying to ignore the ignorance all around
While more oatmeal headed for holy ground

Someone stole the soapbox I preached upon yesterday
But it’s difficult to stand on a soapbox with feet of clay
For I am a man who feels that every man’s death is mine
And instead of oatmeal I wished it would rain some vintage wine

Oatmeal, dog shit, a tiger and some geese
While psychotic psychics profess there will never be any peace
After my soapbox was stolen I would just go around asking anyone
Will this be the kind of land and legacy I want to leave for my grandson?
(2001)… ….free cee (this poem is dedicated to a little boy whose whole journey through adolescence I am missing, because 4,000 miles of tar, brick and the sea separate the proudest grandfather and Mr. T.I. (I am required to use initials so as not to give away a son’s concern) as cute a kid that ever was aloud to be little, happy and have a father as his best friend, and his mom as a “dedicated mother rather than a regimented wife.” May he grow up in a world wherein everyone finds comfort in every one and courtesy with respect from everyone alive)

How to Smile when Lifes Witch

Every time i feel Down
Somehow I look Arround,
I see Many who have had it worst
Like I've never even experienced Thirst

Seems sometimes Our Baddest
cant compare of their Sadness
when we really look to see
we count our Blessings from our Knees

so many never seem to learn
but in this life, we all get a Turn
Just as we think we are Free
we find ourselves in Need!

Life is not a bed of roses
so why do we suppose it
It is a teaching from above
In the End, It Only Teaches Us Love!!!

I see you standing in front of me
Your joyfull smile your ies looking back at me
Your ies gazing into mine
you move gently over to me

You hold my hand gently ,as you hold my heart gently
your my heart your my fire and soul we are one
Holding hands you tenderly kiss my lips
we are one as i hold you tight

i will not let you go
you are my love you are my desire
my passion burns just for you
i tenderly kiss your neck you are mine, my one and only

Four legs
Eyes black with orange circle
Long whiskers
Teeth sharp

Silent tails swirls back and forth
Nose to the ground
The everlasting scent
Food wanted

Dinner on a plate
The smell of flesh the leoperds prey
Hiding in between the trees silently stalcks
Sneaking upoun with silent paws fangs ready
Claws extended

Silently creeps
Inches away flesh sents its nostrils deep
The leopard silent sees its prey
Fangs devour the flesh ,blood spurts to the ground the prey is dead
Roar or the leapord it is feed

I run through
At
Times I feel the memory
A pace
Hearten beaten
Thumping

Flicks of time
relax me

Can dig that

Swinging to bird song beats
The call
yet disappear

to create
the beauty
that will come and go

grasping is a silent
dying art
Wanna paint

or
faint

Wanna write

and take fold what you create
be strong
spill the
forgotten
under done steak

Love is a true thing
it's but nothing
than the outcome of the core;
it's a separation
from man to man
between the beloved and the mother.

Behind beloved's love
thee is a dove
who always needs a hug,
but see the mother
who is a river
who pours her love jug and jug.

The beloved may betray
the lover may go astray
and she may show a shrewd laughter.
If her son don't ask
it becomes her task
to love her4 son more and more.

The beloved is a snake
who gives a shake
to the lover's imaginary world.
To earn only money
and to be in her company
with a smile where the love is sold.

Mother is mother
she does not bother
about her son's character.
If her son not earns
more her love churns
which is her greatest factor.

Hence it is the fact
that the beloved in tact
may be the symbol of a dove;
and it's the mother
who loves her son further
who is the incarnation of love.

The cold black chilling air
jack frost about
leafs and branches blown in the air all scatterd about
freezing tempertures
ice crystals forming from the coldness of the air

below 0 degrees the cold of the day
many a hand and toes frost biten by coldness of the air
numb fingers and toes
bodies cold with the cold air

jack frost is everywhere
winters breath aproaches
in the darkness and light of the day he lingers his ice breath melting in the air