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Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-02-2014, 08:58 AM
Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Wed May 18, 2011 10:54 pm

Dark Thoughts

Words hide deep within my aching head

rise forth from this lazy bed

Face the world with courage and gentler wit

prod the demons in that darkest pit



Task them to do their damnedest , do their best

slay them first while cursing all the rest

No idle sleep to weaken my resolve

that's not how the strong evolve



The volley was fired many weeks ago

returning fire livens the deadly show

Take no prisoners was the commanding call

finish them off where they fall



Words swirl deep within my fevered mind

mercy so elusive and hard to find

Thoughts that burn the bridges up

flee from this jagged depressing cup...... Z. --Tyr Decided to start a thread for anybody to contribute anything they write. Does not have to be poetry. I hope others will feel free to share a part of their lives. Life is too short and why not share a bit of it in the hope it may help another fellow traveler? Present a short story, a rant, a joke or even just a comment about life in general. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-03-2014, 08:58 PM
Fate's Seal Never Yields

Rain that spins out of control

pelts down upon a newly born soul

Awakening thoughts deep within

of the mortality of lesser men

Their short lives spent in duties often delayed

with dreams imagined but never made

Regret of the coming last dawn lingering around

like a fish that is dark water bound......................---Tyr [
B]A River Thought[/B]

A walk down by the river to settle a worrisome thought

crazy , mixed up mind battles far too many fought

The river's passing with its soothing smooth flowing sound

brings images of angels dancing to the trumpeted sound

Rage not against fate's dark hand nor its unyielding wall

pray for abundant life, pray for gentle mercies, pray for us all....-Z. -Tyr
Forested Night Fragment

The night was early with forested music ringing out

moonlight creatures scurrying all about

Bold running streams splashed and hummed right along

bubbling touches to the night forest's magic song

As moon's bright light glows on nature's best views

I remove my well worn ole camping shoes

A good night's rest with an early morn foray

Tomorrow shall be a glorious day, a glorious day

All in a brilliantly vivid mind's eye dream

O' so real, so real it seems........ Z.--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-03-2014, 09:24 PM
Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Wed Mar 23, 2011 8:55 pm

War Demanded



If only man were like a stout oak tree

Standing proud and tall for the world to see

Dreaming of a peaceful culture that truly will last

Ever seeking a happy future while sailing at full mast



Reality presents a very different and forceful demand

Greed calls for taking other's blood , treasure and land

No small trick starting another evil and bloody war

With death, misery and cuts leaving a lasting scar



Any excuse will do when lying is so demanded

Up is down when right becomes so underhanded

Why worry at all about the lives destroyed or taken?

Call for power demands that truth and honor be forsaken



Every war starts with Truth being pushed aside

Far too cumbersome and heavy for death's dark ride

Lies fired from cannons take the first great measure

After that the vultures descend to take the treasure.... Z. Tyr As one can see I know that war will never leave us until we can defeat our own evil nature. Tis' only one way to do that. A shame that so many billions reject it.--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-07-2014, 08:26 AM
As the sun began to rise, I saw the world with clearer eyes. This morn I find myself to be two times thirty. A brilliant light filters into my brain as I look at the blue clear skies . Suddenly gone are the dark glasses that were ever so painful and dirty. A new day and a new way shines across my path. Shall I trod up those steps leading to the first turn? Or continue my stubbornness until I find God's wrath? Accepting the gift I knew I did not earn? Even with a new outlook decisions are still so very hard. While looking for that fourth ace fate deals us another card. Decision made but still I pause to wonder. Is there another hill , another greener hill way over yonder? -Tyr A new day above ground. A new day with my family and my gift. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-07-2014, 08:59 PM
A Fight or A Fantasy ?

Ages ago on a mountain ledge I slew my foe
A warrior that utterly refused to yield
As blood lay rich upon the cold packed snow
I took his valiant life , his sword and his shield

A memory from a cold and distant past
A dream from a memory darkened by sleepless nights
A chill sent so very hard and fast
A flash of many thrilling and honorable fights

Fleeting whispers sent to cast off doubt
Of standards now demanded to be cast aside
Rage , furiously rage against death's final shout
Dead heroes welcoming no tales of glory and pride

Hades embraces fallen soldiers that failed the test
Of virtue, resolve and duty soundly done
Pride, courage , glory and all the rest
Pale in comparison to a justice so honorably won.

Awaken from a sweat soaked dream
I wondered had I saw another man's fate
So real, so very real it did seem
To be the closing of my earthly gate...-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-08-2014, 11:02 PM
Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Sat Mar 19, 2011 1:42 am

Just Words

T is for Truth that yields never

Y is for Youth that should be forever

R is for Respect for honor and it's reward

Z is for Zero a nice balance on any credit card

I is for Integrity so needed for us all

U is for Unity , together we stand tall

S is for Security needed for a sane mind

A is for Admirable traits often so hard to find

X is for X-factor a strangely curious term

N is for Negativity so often held too firm

O is for Opportunity to be the very best

T is for Thanks to each and every honored guest... Z. -Tyr Ziu Saxnot :D I can do that to any word given me. For example lets do Drummond...

D is for Destiny = a future unknown

R is for Reality = as appetizing as a bone

U is for Unification= so important to us all

M is for Memory= so necessary to recall

M is for Manners = which show respect for others

O is for Oath = of love we have for our mothers

N is for Nation = that serves to represent our desires

D is for Duty = a torch with eternal fire... --Tyr A quick brain exercise I sometimes do to waste a few moments between moves in a chess game. .. :laugh: As now my opponent taking too long to make a forced move. He has only one move possible with his king now in check.. Yet he wastes precious time for no good reason. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-09-2014, 11:17 AM
Power speaks and justice be damned to hell

ban the ringing of the world's churchbells

Injustice brings fruits that rot the heart

black with evil from the start

The righteous smugness of injustice's ardent fan

affirms the evil always in the heart of man

Demand truth for its saving grace

insist on justice for the human race.......tzs

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-09-2014, 10:45 PM
Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Sat May 07, 2011 2:42 am



Southern Tornadoes, Rain and Mississippi flood



Wind and rain O' what a pain,

havoc and destruction brought

Endurance and hope again,

overcomes what nature has wrought



Second wave brings a slow river flood

coursing its way down

Spilling out like hot ,dripping red blood

staining precious fertile ground



Stand your ground against it all

nature must be fought

Rise again to stand proud and tall

victory earned not bought............--Z. Tyr



Although we had a bad spell here I thank God for our blessings. So many others around the South had it so much worse and the coming flooding of Memphis remains to be seen how bad it will be. That 'ole mighty Mississippi river takes no prisoners.-Tyr This was from three years ago . I had just started regaining my strength after my heart attack. And part of my recovery was in writing my thoughts down. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-10-2014, 09:56 AM
A new day above ground. A new day with my family and my gift. -Tyr OK, revision and editing completed .




Sunrise and Dreams of Past.


As the sun began to rise, I saw the world with clearer eyes
this morn I find myself to be two times thirty
A brilliant light filters into my brain as I look at the blue clear skies
suddenly gone are the dark glasses that were ever so painfully dirty


A new day and a new way shines across my path
shall I trod up those steps leading to the first turn
Or continue my stubbornness until I find God's wrath
accepting the gift I knew I did not earn


Even with a new outlook decisions are still so very hard
while looking for that fourth ace fate deals us another card
Decision made but still I pause to wonder
is there another hill , another greener hill way over yonder


Another night of strange and horrific dreams
of pain, death and life crushing combat
All so terrible and very real it seems
still shaken from the fear of that


Understand now, dreams into a distant and savage past
perhaps of the tales of one of my ancestor's deeds
Pray these visions too shall soon pass
more sleep , more blessed sleep to better fill my needs


So cruel were the duties of such savage men
death, destruction and lives ever so wasteful
Makes me wonder yet again
Why eat bloody manna that is ever so distasteful-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-10-2014, 08:15 PM
Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Sun May 22, 2011 1:10 pm

Truth Springs Forth

I slumbered in the shadows of my past

until shakened opened eyed at last

All the memories that fill my heart

these too shall someday depart

I wandered in the midst of never ending time

birthing glories not worth a dime

Only now with the glow of setting Sun

do I see the victories so falsely won............Z. --Tyr


Sharia law states all infidels must convert or die and gays must hang! I hope somebody gets something from these. It takes a lot to bear one's soul for others to see. --Tyr.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-12-2014, 11:37 PM
Harvested Bounty

Deep and dark are the thick , tall forested hills
where swift icy streams send cold crossing chills
Thinning out where the trees meet the grassy meadows and fields
hunters reap the harvest that nature so bountifully yields

An early morning hunt that provided food for hearth and home
gathered with weapons in hands as hunters ever so quietly roam
Nature reluctantly gives up its great living treasure
as grateful families thank God for gifts beyond measure.

Home before noon to have newly cooked meals
Satisfied and amply fed , pure bliss is how it feels
Early afternoon nap to renew those hardy spirits
nature whispers inspirations, can you hear it?
03-12-2014 --Tyr

gabosaurus
03-12-2014, 11:46 PM
Republicans in Congress drone their same-old tired chant:
“Compromise with Democrats? We never will! We shan’t!
Cut spending and close loopholes? Our constituents say no!”
And Republicans across the States cry, “Wait! That isn’t so!”

But Republicans in Congress say, “We’ll carry out your wish!
You’d rather cut the milit’ry than tax the super-rich!
We’ll keep those loopholes open while we cut with all our might!”
And Republicans across the States cry, “Stop! That is not right!”

But Republicans in Congress say, “We’re listening to you!
You’d rather risk recession than to increase revenue!
The rich, they need their money. Our schools can take the hit!”
And Republicans across the States cry, “That’s certainly not it!”

But Republicans in Congress say, “We’ll do just what you’ve asked!
You’ll pay more in spending cuts; the rich, though, won’t be taxed!”
We say that we want balance. We’ve asked them this for years!
“We’re listening!” they pledge to us . . . with fingers in their ears.

--Rebecca Rose

jimnyc
03-13-2014, 09:38 AM
Good stuff, Tyr! :clap:

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-13-2014, 07:00 PM
Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Sun Jun 05, 2011 5:24 pm

The Last Banquet

Sun shines brightly over America's green pastures

sheep sleeping sublimely unaware of their masters

Death of a giant must be carefully carried out

stifle all those that begin to write and shout

Stuff the giant with its last deadly meal

then all treasure will be easy to steal

Only if the giant refuses its deadly meal to eat

can the evil masters be finally beat.....Tyr



needs more but will possibly edit later...





Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Sun May 29, 2011 1:57 pm

Death of my Hometown

A visit to my home town was sad

found lacking in so much of what it had

Gone are the old familiar sights

replaced by empty lots and blight

Gone too are the incoming rural weekend crowds

when dead or dying not much is allowed

Found that which I had come to fear

so sadly shocked that I didnt shed a tear.

Thirty five years away and time seems to have brought

death and destruction to that which I so eagerly sought

Not that I didnt expect the changes to be great

just that I wasnt prepared to find its too late......--Tyr



Saturday morning I drove to my hometown. Only family I have there now is my two younger twin brothers(they moved back 6 years ago). Myself and seven other siblings all moved away decades ago. I was the first to leave that actually never returned to live there. The town of 3,365 people once was a very busy place. Streets crowded and so much life. So many kids. Families back then in the rural South had more children. When I think back to my school days all my friends seemed to have several brothers and sisters. I guess the average family there had 4 or 5 kids. Many families like mine had over ten! The town was vibrant and full of life but the powers that be there didnt allow for proper growth. Appears that over 90% of those of my generation journeyed away to settle elsewhere after finding greater opportunities and better life.. It was just so sad and to find that most of the decay has occured in the last twenty years or so. Sure, we that refused to return may be greatly to blame but why return to a small town that had such corrupt local government and police force?? I look at my son AND THINK HOW MUCH HE WILL MISS OF THAT WHICH I IN MY YOUTH ENJOYED THERE! Then I remember also the bad there. I think of the town's sad fate , its current decay and think I am happy my son is not there. There almost nothing there anymore. Not just the material things but the people! Those of the older generation are pretty much all passed on now. So many of them I came to know in my late teens and early manhood were truly fine people. All gone except two. O' yes they lived and lived a fine full life but that which was left there is only a shell, an empty shell of its former self. Am I sad and disappointed about it all? Sure but I realise that possibly its a just reward for the corruption and the ruling powers that controlled that small town. They refused to let it grow, thinking to control it by not allowing it to become too large to control. In the end they just insured its sad fate. Its true one can never go back. The farther back one attempts to go the less one finds. I wonder just how many small towns have suffered the same fate in America? I had foolishly a couple years ago thought of moving back there for my son's sake. Now I see what a mistake I almost made! Now I remember why I chose to buy a house and remain here! You can never truly go back.--Tyr





Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Wed May 25, 2011 1:31 pm

May 25th Praise Day

This morning hope leaps out to meet a wonderful day

thank God, thank God is enough to say

Life's blessings acknowledged for all to see

welcoming more with righteous plea

Living life for others brings rewards by the score

greater life awaits on this distant shore

Once cast adrift , a better home was given

now to begin a new and better livin'.......Z- Tyr



Finding that life must be met head on. No time to regret past wrongs,hardships or unfullfilled hopes. Living with a renewed hope that the future will bring enough years to see my son become a fine young man before I depart. Yes, a new start with a new course. A different fork in the road just may lead to a better destination. Life never ceases to amaze. Even a hard case like me can mellow out and see the light before passing on.. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-14-2014, 11:14 PM
Justice served is justice indeed

Let us await until too damn late
is the call for the day now
Ignorantly await the coming horrible fate
like a dying mule harnessed to a broken plow

Lies served up like a fine meal with apple pie
as we eagerly smile while gobbling it all down
promises more numerous than clouds in the sky
accepted by dumbasses, fools and ignorant clowns

Do not be unhappy or quietly seething in dismay
as we embrace a "messiah" to soothe our follies
Even asked the bastard to please, please stay
As he shafted us all to get his jollies

May justice meet all that begged for that false treasure
as they sit confused and in their usual stupid dreams
Let fire and sword strike with greatest measure
those that lived by corruptions and evil dastardly schemes--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-16-2014, 11:28 AM
Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Thu Jun 09, 2011 1:37 pm

Fragment of Fate

Dying embers of yesterday's feast

interest and please me not in the least

For the joys that future shall give

heartens me to strive forever to live

Yet precious memories of my family's past

journey blessedly with me til the last............Z.-- Tyr


Having just made one of those precious memories Saturday with my wife and son I remember this post from 3 years ago. When Justin was healthy enough for us to take him to the zoo. He had such a blast seeing all those animals. Even wanted to go back the next day. We just discussed last week when to go to the zoo and I thought mid/late April before it gets really hot here. Added that to the list .... --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-16-2014, 05:12 PM
No Principle Stands Alone

Stand tall with blade worn openly for all to see
give kindness when its richly due
The true worth is not in the height of a tree
rather it is in the fruits it bears that we use

Never yield to complacency or fear of condemnation
instead act in a way that shows honor rightly obeyed
Seek not false and ever so hollow admiration
rather pursue a righteous foundation firmly laid. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-20-2014, 07:57 PM
Seek not too much comfort nor to live earthbound forever
watch for those falling rocks on your daily walk
Life will still hit you hard even if you never
cleverly scheme and lie when you idly talk

Wait not for false praise from others
win honor for standing straight and upright
True love we all get from our mothers
darkness hides what we fear in the night

As you find the light about to be turned out
resist the urge to piss and moan
Living well was what it was all about
bless another world about to be shone..... --Tyr


Best to look forward to a long journey we all must someday face. Another friend from long past took that journey this morn. I wish her a lighted and well worn path that leads to a paradise of bliss. No need to cry , as we all are going to one day face this.
Et tu, quasi stellæ in lunam Mirum me desiderium at tu numquam!!!!
--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-21-2014, 07:40 PM
Damn It All-Whiskey No More



No farther to fall when completely down and out
lace up your best shit kickin' boots
Make the devils cry and shout
tear the forest up by its deepest roots

Climb that looming mountain top
drink good whiskey until the light of day
Keep on going and don't ever stop
piss at the world and have your damn say

As you unwind compose your best list
shake the world until it cries and moans
Once gone you will then be sorely missed
even the earth shall eat and bless your bones.. -Tyr

My buddy today told me about his weekend blast. Fishing at his favorite lake all day while drinking fine whiskey. Whiskey which I am forbidden to touch! Then he tells me of the fine sexy lady he met at a club and how both nights were pure bliss. I replied yes amigo the whiskey I dearly miss but as to the fine sexy lady I have you beat. I sleep with mine every night and have for ten years and still going. His reply was , that's true but fine whiskey is a joy that I still have. My retort was this. Have at it my friend I'll take 3,650 nights of my darling wife over an ocean of whiskey ! Yet, he is right I do miss the comfort of a good glass of fine whiskey on a cold night. We don't ever get it all. Harder we try the farther away it flees.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-22-2014, 09:33 PM
Days gifts, Nights rest




Silently the night slips ever closer to the break of day
sunrise and the school children begin to run about
Worries and troubles falling like rain are here to stay
ever returning like beautiful rainbow trout

A lazy day fishing in the shade by a favorite stream
ease and comfort that brings smiles galore
So great almost seems a wonderful dream
bless me, bless me with so much more

Each week brings its many joys and sorrows
hard times spring about like a midday frog
Yet I yearn for ten thousand more tomorrows
floating down swift river like a newly fallen log..........--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-25-2014, 12:45 AM
Solace Welcomed Like A Dear Friend

The thunder wakes me, the pain aches me
deep within this shallow vessel I dwell
Waiting the harvest of that fruit tree
sending a gift of blessed heaven or fiery hell.

No atonement can replace the gift so freely given
sacrifice so desperately sweet and dear
No measure of good intentions or righteous liven'
can increase the days, nights and live long year

A comfort of solace wraps me times I need it most
to bid me to eagerly trod the right path
Obeying the gentle whispers of the Holy Ghost
fearing not terrible stings of God's righteous wrath..............-Tyr--03-24-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-26-2014, 01:51 AM
Forsaken Is A Choice Made


I'd walk a mile of fire to save you
into blazing gasoline defending those I love
Nothing heroic or amazing I choose to do
simply obeying duty and the Lord above.

Measure a man's courage by sacrifices made
not by planned actions and words alone
But by the hands he fearlessly played
Soul eternal survives mere flesh and bone

Last great and full measure faithfully faced
pain , agony and heartache cometh to us all
Love accepted and ever so firmly placed
Fearing not that last great and saddening fall.............................. Tyr- 03-26--2014

I once lived to exact revenge on those that wrong the world. Soon I found myself punishing me far more than others. O' I was so good at dishing it out that I gave myself ever greater scars! One must never forget lessons learned for to do so is to repeat them. I fight a vengeful spirit that seeks to devour me for my rebuke. I do so not alone but aided by a greater power. Temptation to return ever bids. I shall slay it everyday as I've been doing for so long.. That which it groomed has now been turned against it. I swear my blade to pierce its black heart . And so I shall, one day, one day.. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-27-2014, 09:24 PM
Duty Served.

I hold shield, sword and oath to keep
prices paid in red frothy blood
Pains so deep the angels weep
dry bones roasting in sunburnt mud

Retrieve my shield to work someday
my sword to cut vengeance down
Seek not where I chose to lay
tis' sweet in this cold hard ground.

Dew quenches my thirst at break of morn
sun warms my bones like a bonfire
I sought not glory and yielded not to scorn
courage and honor were my only desire.....Tyr- 03-27-2014

Life steps up everyday to beg me to cease to play. I stubbornly laugh at my many youthful follies.
Best not to mourn the lost of those precious youthful jollies.- ;) --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-29-2014, 12:43 AM
Found this from a few years ago.. I believe back in 2008/9.


The Well of Memory

The Well of Memory is my greatest treasure

holds many loves and joys beyond measure

A mere moment's thought summons up such delights

to soothe my lonely spirit on the darkest nights



Without it my life would be so dead and dry

much like an ocean blue without a sky

Perish the thought , birth not such a nightmare

bring not my early death by such a scare!



I seek to happily live to a ripe old age

vanquish my fears and conquer my rage

Then travel on while deeply , serenely sleeping

Be long gone before the heartache and weeping....;) Z.--Tyr





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Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Tue Mar 15, 2011 4:20 am

Christmas Morning Snow 12-25-2010

Watching the dancing flames in the fireplace grow

Outside the majestic harmony of the cascading snow

As winter wraps earth's canvas in a sparkling white

Nature gifts such beauty for everyone's delight



So nice the warm feeling of the fire's glowing heat

Happily sitting here while warming bare naked feet

The clock strikes midnight the snow is still floating down

Wrapping everything brilliantly white in this sleepy old town



Children wake early to embrace nature's newly given toy

Nature's present this Christmas day to each little girl and boy

Racing outside laughing , stumbling and falling all about

Playing , snowball fighting in the cold never seeming to tire out...-;) -Z

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Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Wed Mar 16, 2011 2:36 am

Dreams and Memories Afield

Distantly dreaming of my wild and brazen younger years

Memories of pleasant days hunting in forests dark and deep

When thrills of getting completely lost held no fears

Of fantastic chases across rushing streams , over hills so steep



Sent delightful images of quickly shooting wildgame to eat

The delicious taste of nature's gifts of lean red meat

Garnered by sweat of the brow and blast of the gun

Hastedly skinned and carried home before the setting Sun



O' the beautiful memories that one seldom ever forgets

Of living, pain and joy, small little pleasures that life often begets

Nature gives so many blessings that we fail to hear or see

The beauty of flowers, singing of birds and shade of mighty oak tree.... Z. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-29-2014, 01:04 AM
Outdoor Prose for All Seasons

Postby Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Sat Jun 18, 2011 12:28 am

Stand Tall or Fall...

This nation so ravaged by economic woes

wars too many keep us on our toes

Politics corrupted deep to the core

leeches begging for handouts and more

Hatred for religion so arrogantly bellowed out

by windbags that sleep while they ignorantly shout

A future that looks desperate and totally grim

ready made plot for a winning Hollywood film

Push comes to shove dire action will be taken

God will not save the merciless Godforsaken

With that so many shall urgently cry for aid

yet must eternally sleep in the vile bed they made

Others will stand up to take the leap

refusing to be led by appeasing sheep

Healing will come after so much torture and pain

America will overcome its cursed , pathetic stain

A bright future such is well within our reach

only if we again find the TRUTH to teach.......Z.-- Tyr--[usa]



We are lost as a nation. We have lost most of our spirit. Arrogant elitist know nothings spew bile and poison our collective souls. If we are to survive we must regain control of our Education System and stop the brainwashing of our children. Go back to the primers and basics as taught in the 30's and 40's.. Teach that right does indeed overcome evil. Actually teach that evil truly exists. Then dare to once again to teach that evil must be opposed at every turn at every encounter. For we must fight to dare. To dare to fight for our kids and grandkids future. This I shall do. Will any of you??? --[usa]--TZS

^^^^ From about 3 years ago.. Even more true today. We are more lost now than even we were back then. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-31-2014, 06:17 PM
Sixteen Nothings Jammed Together

Found another day today
same O' same you might see
Work done, time to play
excuse me while I go to pee

Another job finished mighty quick
even raised the lid too
Not fancy , not even a trick
even heard a big thank you

Saving the "big job" for later
reading here to my delight
Much rest for a lazy debater
wasting away each boring night

Found another night to be hard
didn't even look over my shoulder
Pigs fat makes very good lard
whiskey makes any man bolder..............:laugh:


No new moves in my chess games today. Bored when that happens. I need to go shoot some guns but the wife needs sleep and my son needs tending.;)
If only I lived on the farm again. I could shoot out of my yard. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
03-31-2014, 11:50 PM
No Going Back To Make Amends


Three thunderbolts in my back pocket
a can of kickass in my left hand
Evil gleam beaming into my right socket
echoes of a drugged out hippie band

Blasts of memories stinging my brain
of beautiful girls scantily clad
Seething blasts of hot dripping rain
washed ashore faces of girls I had

Memories sent to remind me of fate
knowledge of many past sins
Mercy, mercy tis' never too late
two loves are not always twins

Thunderbolts remind me to never sit still
as demons eat away at my soul
Visions I see against my stubborn will
eyes gazing so deeply black as coal

I blink quickly to wash it all away
begging for a much happier thought
Yet darkest evil temporarily holds sway
past deeds and freedom so falsely bought...........Tyr- 03-31-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-01-2014, 10:40 PM
About To Hang..


Before his captors bound in chains
he cursed all with rage
His heart was aching not from pains
rather from lost liberties of a past age

Bound to a stout and massive old tree
lost, dispirited and without future hope
Choosing defiant curses rather than broken plea
awaiting the crowd and hanging rope

No tears , for he was not afraid
of hell's intensely inviting gaze
Life spent , short future therein laid
all memory now a distant haze

Asked are you afraid of what awaits
he spat upon the ground
I'll see you all at hell's first gate
where anguished screams make no sound........--TYR- 04--01 --2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-02-2014, 11:44 PM
Paradise- A Thought and A Reality


There are words we know not yet
gains our release we know not when
Spirits waiting we have not met
saving souls of ordinary men

Gifts given that we may freely share
with all that welcome that abode
Love and joy racing everywhere
along that blessed paradise road

Memories that joyously lingered on
like a hello from long lost friend
Love lost but never gone
returns to favor yet again

High upon that golden mount
trees bearing wonderful fruits
Joys far too many to ever count
spring from their heavenly roots..... Tyr- 04-02-2014


Received a blessing today. Amazing how a small and simple joy can renew the human spirit..-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-03-2014, 09:59 AM
Swineburne

All the zest of all our England
Love that flows and life that flames,
Light of heaven on things of beauty,
Wonder in their winsome names,
Noise of waterfalls down leaping
From a myriad mountain springs,
Winds that never cease their whispering,
Endless waves and endless wings.

I really like that one... The author conveyed so much with such few words.. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-03-2014, 09:44 PM
rewriting....

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-03-2014, 10:09 PM
Lost Love's Dream Shadow



Deep within a sunlit drop of refreshing rain
I saw a glimpse of her beautiful face again
Dreams flow past as swift mountain streams
she haunts me lovingly in midnight dreams

Outside my window the great moon dares to sink
more time, more time is all I can think
She appears all the more real in her golden gown
as the great moon glides slowly slipping down

I feel earth trembling deeply into night
nothing feels better, nothing feels so right
Her voice whispers from shadows all around
smiles so deep that it echoes in loving sound

As dawn flees upward to meet the newborn day
I hear her parting voice softly, caressingly say
Dreams can not stay , they must go past
our loves are forever and forever they last......Tyr--04--03--2014

Tis not so strange for me to read great poetry then compose from inspiration. I hope such words of hope and joy helps others in times of hardship and sorrow. 16 lines that helped my soul. I think this one is a keeper and will surely go in my journal tonight. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-05-2014, 08:36 PM
Politicians Have No Heart, No Honor

You squawking birds are mute
now that the buzzard has flown in
Taking no notice until we all are destitute
acting as if cold harden statue men

You cowards pretend to bend and weep
as you watch us live in want
Act as if you truly earn your keep
faking caring when you surely don't

Stand frozen as a block of ice
as you allow the enemy to win it
Appease like dimwits playing nice
as you play at having no skin in it ..........Tyr-- 04-05--2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-06-2014, 09:27 PM
A Warrior's Destiny


A swift blow from my sword he fell back
protecting all he held dear from my attack
His great valor and bravery did not sustain
the image of victory he sought to claim


All consuming darkness became his fate
as he fell to journey to his next gate
Above his fallen body I did kneel
another blow his fate did it seal


Far greater many have courageously done
rejoicing in sweet victory fairly won
Yet somewhere in this blessed land
another strikes for freedom's stand


Into that battle and sweet victory day
I found sacrifice is the only way
For one must live by an honorable code
as did great warriors in the days of old


Die if you must but live if you can
courage rebukes death in the heart of man
Sacrifice for the love of others must stand
as mighty blows from Thor's right hand


Fear not the light of the coming morn
fate may send sound of Gabriel's horn
You may live many more precious years
with memories of blood, sweat and tears


As darkness finally covers your eyes
truth shall evaporate all the lies
You will find the life we so dearly love
was indeed a blessing from God above............Tyr-- 04-06-2014


Had a wonderful day. Served a great meal and had time with all my brothers and sisters at my house. Finally after a 15 months of doing a great meal every Sunday I've managed to heal a few wounds and bring feuding relatives together as it should be. My first great success at being a peace maker. Previously I was a vengeance deliverer... Mighty damn nice not to be beating somebody's ass for the evil they do. I just may take a great liking to this before I meet my maker.. ;)-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-07-2014, 09:32 PM
First Love Lost




The earth rose to kiss her feet
hair so long and lips so sweet
Her caresses were like morning dew
like a blue sky falling on you


She sent her favors like a Spring rain
like a beautiful snow falling again
Lips inviting as a mother's love
a glimpse of heaven far above


A simple touch of her sweet hand
could make or break any man
As she flew past I quickly saw
heaven's gate and joyous all


Then like a winter long gone
a chill hit me to the bone
Her image faded ever so fast
such love can never last, never last...............Tyr- 04-07-2014....

How well I remember my first love. A time never meant to endure. A heart broken so it could learn to mend. Feeling like never loving ever again.. Memories so bitter sweet. I went days and couldn't eat. Only to find my life was tougher still. When I hardened my will. Now finally a life lived. I found love had more to give. My wife and son steady me . To strive to live and live to love..-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-07-2014, 11:40 PM
Your Lies Blind Your Own Eyes



You say not you but let another man
fight the fight to save this land
You bitch out those that demand we fight
as you hide deep when its a full moon night


Yet letting others reap your field
seems so right as you always yield
Defend your land as if your slave
only proves you to be a knave


We tire of hearing you cowardly cry
as the years and decades fly by
You demand we always back down
as you parade a fool about the town


Ever consider should we chose to fight
just may be to force you to see the light?
And step forth to finally be a real man
burn your edicts and scar your pampered hand


Could you ever man up to finally dare
pull your weight and do your share ?
Slay the spreading evil you seem to ignore
uphold freedom, sacrifice a damn lot more


Get off your ass stop the hiding
evil knocks loudly, soon its riding
Stop your arrogantly angered sighing
let your soul lose to start its flying


Out of the shadows where you rest and moan
fight like a hungry dog on a meaty bone
Stop demanding others believe your lies
as if they are eating the sweetest apple pies


A day is coming when the trumpet shall sound
will you fight or hide deep in the ground ?
Best to decide now to make the leap
for we all eventually get buried six feet deep


Wipe off your ever so comforting slime
stand proud and tall its finally time
To do or die as a good man must
pray daily , in God place your final trust...............Tyr---04-07-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-08-2014, 07:47 PM
Dark forbidden eyes sit above those venomous lips
harboring storms to dash down a thousand ships
When your lightning strikes and wicked winds fiercely blow
awestruck and fearful man does watch the magic show


You that make the tigers cower in fear
send shadows of death ever so near
Often you dare to send better days
blue clear skies and sunshine rays


As you trick us into happy bliss
hidden dangers we foolishly miss
Then suddenly you grow dark
lightning begins its burning spark


Man begs for you to be fine
as sweet as heaven made wine
Yet nature holds you by the tail
suffering calamities straight from hell


Tomorrow promises even greater gifts
sending sunshine that so uplifts
Clouds announce your coming parade
earth awaits the gift you just made........Tyr-- 04-08 -2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-09-2014, 12:11 AM
Valor Never Diminished


A few old men do still live to tell
the brave deeds their brothers did
Noting the battle where they finally fell
shedding tears for their lives and kids

Holy ground were in laid to eternal rest
a path many fear to ever tread
Our nation ever gives its very best
to the beast that forever eats its dead

Should you ever chance to read
tales of valor fantastic and true
Remember it in your time of need
pray God gives such courage to you.......Tyr 04-08-2014

Inspired by the video posted here. And the sacrifice we all hope to never have to make.. In appreciation of the heroes that gave their all--to keep us safe.--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-09-2014, 07:08 PM
Memories of Survival



Ages ago on a desperate battlefield I faced my foe
grim determination was upon that angry face
Had he thought long and well he would know
anger is a weakness common to his race

With cool head and quick hands I slashed his legs
blood stream forth like cold mountain streams
Tis sad to see a mighty warrior as he begs
finish me, finish me , as in agony he screams

The next blow I ever so quickly dealt
severed his right sword hand off clean
As he wounded sword down , shield up and knelt
still desperately clinging to life or so it did seem

Remembering all that I did feel
still haunts me to this very day
His life I did bravely and swiftly steal
sending his lost soul on its way

So long ago those fighting years
seems a wicked string of bad dreams
Can not forget nor shed any tears
looking for mercy in my best schemes

Time reminds me that I am old
no longer full of piss and fight
I may yet be proud and very bold
as the moon darkens my last night............Tyr- 04-09-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-10-2014, 11:15 AM
I rise to face a comforting sun and clear blue sky
so good to find myself still above ground
I yield not to the temptation to even ask why
instead just enjoy the blessing of still hanging around


No great confusion this morn about mysteries of death and life
cool, cool breeze flowing upon my face and old man hair
I enjoy the gift of beautiful daughter, son and gentle loving wife
as life presents me with pure joy and great comfort more than fair ........Tyr- 04-10-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-10-2014, 07:01 PM
Shadows Saying So Much.

Ever lived deep into a jagged night
fleeting shadows of ghosts just out of sight
With blues so deep they painted the entire room
nasty dark colors of impending doom


Hours spitting past like a long agonizing death
with cold sweats and painfully reluctant breath
Images of hatred thrown like daggers at you
vengeance deep and so long past overdue


Praying for a swift emerging and brightened morn
soft as a baby's cheek having just been born
Only to see a darkened ghost stand and wail
you, yes you are going straight to hell


Plead for mercy with all your might
ask sincere forgiveness for your plight
Then suddenly realize the spirit attacking you
is just a sad reflection of what you didn't do...............Tyr- 04-10-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-10-2014, 07:41 PM
A Painter's Nightmare

I have been painting where the bird of vengeance tears out the coward's heart
large brush strokes given with an angry scowl and deep frown tossed in to boot
Land between where the blessed soul and the inner spirit of man do ever part
as rough and stout as an old mighty oak tree with withered rock anchored root


A canvas as big and glowing bright as the imagination of a happily playing child
setting up toy soldiers to battle fiercely until the mighty war God tires of his play
Incoming dark spirits unchained and commanded to destroy in vengeance gone wild
all that defiantly dare to fight back with courage and pluck while standing in their way


Each stroke begs for another more vibrant and deeper that the one blasted on before
as the picture looms large sending darkened chills up my renewed and stiffened spine
A shriek comes forth from behind that castle's bloody and heavy iron gated door
revealing the angry beast has just fled and all will soon be blissfully quiet and fine..
Tyr----04-10-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-11-2014, 08:32 AM
The King Has Arrived


Decades of disgrace have so perverted moral law
as cries for reform came from the few that saw
Pretty lies designed to soothingly appease
sprang forth with liberal deceit and ease


Could our nation found no other fate
is correction ever too late
Misdemeanors and high crimes abound
like cheers from all round


A savior came to abolish suffering and woe
little did the deceived ever know
The sinister game that was being played
the dastardly plans so cleverly being laid


Does the savior not rule now by royal decree
stealing liberties from you and me
As he sits upon his newly made throne
demanding no true light ever be shown


Should we now abandon all moral codes
follow the tyrant down doom filled roads
Only to find our every hopeful thought
was diminished even before it was bought


How blind are those that refuse to see
the lies that surround the king to be!............Tyr 04-11-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-12-2014, 11:16 AM
Eyes like diamonds decorating a rose
sweet lips to decorate her perfect nose
A face made for benefit for all to see
a girl too good for the likes of me


She passed me by not even casting a glance
yet my mind was on pure romance
I could hear her song night and day
yet to me she had nothing to say


Foolish dreaming gathered me no date
best to speak before it is too late
O' what words would serve me well
I had nobody to help me ,nobody to tell


Fearing the worst and praying for the best
I decided to try a very simple test
As she passes by I'd just step up to boldly say
Hello! And then begin to earnestly pray


That my bold step was met with a good reply
she'd be nice to me yet I know not why
Doubts and fear racked my fevered brain
daggers in my heart was my relentless pain


So I finally ventured receiving a great reward
finding suddenly talking to her wasn't at all hard
We dated for just over 47 blissful summer days
then each found others and parted ways


I learned nothing ventured nothing you will gain
yield not to fear step out into the glorious rain
Life sends us on a glorious and rewarding ride
best just go with the flow , ride high on the tide............Tyr- 04-11-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-12-2014, 07:23 PM
Lessons Learned In Youth.



Eyes like diamonds decorating a rose
sweet lips to decorate her perfect nose
A face made for benefit for all to see
a girl too good for the likes of me


She passed me by not even casting a glance
yet my mind was on pure romance
I could hear her song night and day
yet to me she had nothing to say


Foolish dreaming gathered me no date
best to speak before it is too late
O' what words would serve me well
I had nobody to help me ,nobody to tell


Fearing the worst and praying for the best
I decided to try a very simple test
As she passes by I'd just step up to boldly say
Hello! And then begin to earnestly pray


That my bold step was met with a good reply
she'd be nice to me yet I know not why
Doubts and fear racked my fevered brain
daggers in my heart was my relentless pain


So I finally ventured receiving a great reward
finding suddenly talking to her wasn't at all hard
We dated for just over 47 blissful summer days
then each found others and parted ways


I learned nothing ventured nothing you will gain
yield not to fear stepping out into the glorious rain
Life sends us on a glorious and rewarding ride
best just go with the flow , ride high on the tide............Tyr- 04-11-2014

Was in a hurry to post due to taking my wife to work this morn. Forgot to title my newest work.
A work which I long ago wrote but was in my papers the ex-wife destroyed. Had to do it from memory and am sure its fairly close to the original written about 30 years ago. I was writing about my experience as a 16 year old kid that had so damn much to learn.. Don't we all wish we could go back to redo some things?? If so Id go back and hold onto that gal for dear life but fate sent me down another path.. No complaints , just musings from an old man about youthful experiences. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-13-2014, 01:23 AM
Death Before Slavery and Dishonor

A man came today to take our land
said Uncle Sam had greater need
Told us its all in a complicated clever plan
to hell with any having children to feed


We chose to load our guns and guard day and night
that which our families have had all our lives
So good to be properly armed in case of a fight
not having to depend on just sticks and knives


We see why the Feds want so badly to take our guns
put us into a state of desperate want and need
Have us so lost that we chose instead to just run
instead of standing firm to fight , die and bleed.


A grab many saw coming a mile down the pike
and knew it was a harbinger of ill tidings!
Nothing to admire , love or even like
not for citizens brave, honorable and law abiding-- 04-13-2014 Tyr

Men resolved to defend their families and homes
against the beast that destroys wherever it roams........

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-13-2014, 12:27 PM
The Deceivers Reward

Your lying words can be made mute
by blasting truth to those you deceive
As you strive to keep your stolen loot
you and all may be cast into the sea


Fear now these words that you see given
every branch succors from root of its tree
As you deceive to garner a kingly liven'
justice hears your many victims united plea


This fate you may think only wishing dreaming
as you birth new and greater evil schemes
Tears will down your face soon be streaming
when justice is delivered as the good Lord deems


Remember the cries for help and mercy loudly laughed at
when any help or kindness you arrogantly chose to refuse
A judgment righteously delivered from where TRUTH sat
as you cry for God's mercy to be a gift now rewarded you......Tyr 04-13-2014

Justice may not come in our lives but rest assured it will come some future day. These scum that laugh now will cry then and likely moan as they pay their dues..-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-14-2014, 12:27 AM
No Reprieve Given For Deeds Forever Written In Stone


Each vision of beauty stands apart and giving its gift
always taking one's spirit and soul to inspire and uplift
As my spirit viewed her beauty that hour and summer day
I stood like a jagged mountain with no clever words to say


Like a child lost in wilderness straying along soaked with fears
longing for words of love to race from her lips to my eager ears
A happiness that sprang from a young and hopefully eager mind
such great joy could a wild young man ever dare to hope to find


After she showered me with her love and beautiful glow
I begged for more and prayed for a never ending show
Alas, fate fickle and ever so recklessly mirrored my shallow way
cast sadly apart and apart we forever did sorrowfully have to stay


Years can not banish the memories and love for her life and soul
present blessings can not erase the gentle memories I forever know
Of days and nights walking by her comforting and hand held side
often the pain strikes so deep its more than this man can abide


Regrets are daggers that slice deep into a man's hurting heart
demanding a sad ending be as firmly held as was the joyous start
I struggle not to let such thoughts force me to weep and moan
as I remember my selfish deeds that forced her to be forever gone

No power to reclaim her faithful love has ever came to me
fighting the sadness that ever seeks to cast my spirit into the sea
Slashing dark spirits that cast my doubts and sins back in my face
while riding the wildest horse that merely finishes this eternal race


I have memories of crowns that are forever ripped and torn
of painful dark robes burning my soul as they are sadly worn
No saving relief in blessed sight, not even an ending date
as my pain endures sitting deep within this wretchedly bad fate...... Tyr- 04-13-2014

As late night hours approach I face memories both pleasant and sad. Realizing gifts I refused because I chose thrills of being bad. Life does not give overs for deeds one ever so deeply regret.
And it does not give easy paths to take to simply forget. We are what we have already done and can only change what may in the future do. Mistakes I've learned not to repeat but can not ever avoid the pain and guilt they increase in measure as days fly ever forward. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-14-2014, 10:00 AM
rewriting..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-15-2014, 08:34 AM
Back when life was simple , simple pleasures did abound
now we are so progressively enlightened few can be found
Once neighborhood was a sanctuary we could enjoy without fear
now its a place where we must keep our children ever so near

The farther we allowed our masters to led us astray
the more evil and painful is the price we will have to pay
Should we find the courage to decide to fight and die
put an end to this misery, coming slavery and great lie
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

O' yes a sacrifice will have to be paid . If to regain our lives , freedoms and future we dare to undertake . Wake up, wake up for Heaven's sake..

God, I am so tired of this creature now ruling us. When did we decide we should be ruled by a tyrant? I remember never being asked or voting on it. Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-15-2014, 11:21 PM
Dream Weaver

Beside still waters and pastures lush and green
I wander into a late night summer dream
She appears with her eyes so beautiful and deep
a vision that forever tempts me in my sleep



Long flowing gold adorned jet black hair
chasing me showing how much she does care
Caution for witches sometimes lead men astray
yet her laughter begs me to forever stay


An image that sweetly burns my brain
I pray it return again and again
Into the eyes of one that knew love
looking for eternity from high above


As I feel myself to start to wake
offering my heart for her to take
She flies away laughing as she goes
will she ever return again ,nobody knows......Tyr--04-15-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-16-2014, 11:22 PM
rewriting...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-17-2014, 11:19 AM
Sweet Sounds



Sweetest sounds I ever heard
were sweet notes of a mockingbird
Sitting in a dead oak tree
far above that hive of bees


April is here with its hard rains
hitting us like many wrecking trains
Warm winds start replacing the cold
as we long for happy days of old


Joy sounds in the notes of the mockingbirds
like sweet whispers of a lover's words
Listen today if you think you can
will cheer the soul of any lonely man.............Tyr-04-17-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-17-2014, 10:08 PM
The Journey Ends


Lions are roaring and the grass a growin'
wise men sleep a knowin'
The heart of man is infinitely deep,
a servant still must earn his keep


Who truly knows why the wild bird sings
or winter fades into a welcoming spring?
Why it thunders and sun does shine
or love is the tie that binds


Great herds moving , flocks are a wingin'
all life joins in wonderfully singin'
Oceans are sailing under a blue moon
life roars and then perishes far too soon....... Tyr- 04-17-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-18-2014, 09:04 PM
The Saving Grace

The night wind from the east
brings flavor to the beast
As the creeping nights creep
the widows endlessly weep


Dark powers greater than the sun
leave no place to hide or run
Not even the deepest cave
will spirit and flesh save

As the beast sets to ravage and roam
destroying life , love and home
No brave hero in hopeful sight
can stop its fury tonight

Yet there still is one saving grace
ever present for the human race
And it must not be foolishly denied
embracing the promises so cleverly lied

Just a few simple faithful words given
can yield a blessed eternity of livin'
And the beast shall then be slain
blessed are those words again and again........ Tyr 04-18 -2014

Times are a troubling now. Food for thought.

They will get much worse. Man lives under a willing curse.
Seek and ye shall find.
That a simple answer comes to mind.
Do not simply wait.
No man alone can stop that closing gate.
Leap while you still can.
Before the sh*t hits the fan..--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-20-2014, 11:47 AM
Poet's Thoughts


Very few share their deepest inner thoughts and fears
those born with before ever first had their baby tears
Takes one stout of heart and secure in giving mind
to share such freely and openly with all mankind

Such thinkers and poets are a special breed
freely forcing their hearts and minds to bleed
That others may gain some insight, some small part
of how man reveals his inner soul in his open heart

Never declaring such men much better or worse
than any other people living under mankind's curse
Just far more willing to be cursed or given praise
for the thoughts they present and hopefully raise.. Tyr- 04-20- 2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-20-2014, 11:02 PM
Mild Is The Parting Year , and Sweet

Mild is the parting year , and sweet
The odor of the falling spray;
Life passes on more rudely fleet,
And balmless is its closing day.

I wait its close, I court its gloom,
But mourn that never must there fall
Or on my breast or on my tomb
The tear that would have soothed it all.
---Walter Savage Landor
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


With Rue My Heart Is Laden


With rue my heart is laden
For golden friends I had,
For many a rose-lipt maiden
And many a lightfoot lad.

By brooks too broad for leaping
The lightfoot boys are laid;
The rose-lipt girls are sleeping
In fields where roses fade.
--- A.E. Housman

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two really nice ones, just because you folks are surely tired of seeing mine.. ;) -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-21-2014, 11:22 PM
Fear Monsters and Run

On that mountain was the great cavern
all the boys spoke of it in the local tavern
Great fear of its darkness and ghostly sound
tales tall recited as the beers came around

Once Dallas went in with hair dark as night
came out next day hair was ghostly white
Blubbering like a scared little frightened child
talking of monsters big, fierce and wild

On a dare I took a huge bet
I would explore it and not even fret
Saturday at high noon I did enter
into black darkness as cold as winter

Deeper in I cautiously did go
expecting monsters to soon show
First startled by huge exiting bats
next came fleeing dark little rats

A few turns and I did soon dimly see
yellow eyes ahead looking back at me
Soon I turned and did rapidly run
back to the light of the noonday sun

Outside I quickly paid my lost bet
never found out what it was yet
But this I learned and now admit
that day's fear I'll not ever forget

A man must face his darkest fear
even when people may laugh and jeer
Just do so with this thought in mind
fear monsters and that's what you'll find.... Tyr-Ziu Saxnot 04-21-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-22-2014, 10:04 AM
Slain


Swiftly the shot from my rifle sped
To his heart , and he fell in the darkness-dead!

With never a struggle, never a sigh,
I saw my enemy bleed and die.

And now, I said, is my peace secure;
I shall fear his hand and his hate no more.

The black night came with a stealthy pace
And shed the shadows over my face,

Hidden forever from mortal view:
And only God and the darkness knew!

But what would I barter of good and fair
To take the place of the dead man there,

As I face the future - the life to be,
With God and the darkness haunting me!
--Frank L. Stanton

After researching the life of this author it makes me wonder if this composition was a life experience he had (one never knows what lies in the heart of a man).. Regardless his poetry is amazing. That one was from his book ( I just found and bought) titled, "Songs of the Soil" published 1924. . I picked a short one today. Later will present some that are far more lengthy. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-22-2014, 11:17 AM
She

She was the first to love me, please me and leave me
The first to take me, fake me and try to break me

Memories of sweetness greater than honey, money
or days blissfully joyful and ever so sunny
Such contrasts are insanely weird, happy , sad
and even mysteriously funny

Yet on reflection any first real love
surely can be all of the above..........--Tyr-- 04-22-2014...,.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-22-2014, 10:33 PM
Night in the South

Here in the deep, June dark,
Laden with odors of the rose excessive,
Where not a star ray strikes oaks to mark
The glooms impressive,


I tilt my rustic chair-
The smoke from my Havana upward wreathing,
And o'er the rolling of the world I hear
The great night breathing!


The night has no art
To hide her grief; with dim-draped arms ex-
tended,
She waits to welcome to her widowed heart
The moon splendid.


And yet- so still is all
That if a bird's nest slipped its airy tether
There would be sound and feeling in the fall
Of one light feather!


The rills that brawled all day,
Now with the tumbled pebbles make no wrangle;
The wind seems weary and has lost its way
In vines a-tangle.


In vines where odorous swings
The honeysuckle , o'er the senses stealing;
Where hummingbirds have brushed with beau-
tous wings
The wild grapes reeling!


Night! and the South! and June!
Silence - and yet, the sound of many voices!
And now, dashed down the darkness, tune on tune,
And melody rejoices!


Clear through the awakened night
The music rushes - all the joy -bells ringing;
And every leaf is trembling with delight
born of that singing!


It is as if a word
Had flashed from God- aweary of the quiet;
The soul of music in a mocking-bird
In maddest riot!


Night! and the South! and June!
The wind awakes;
the river sings its story;
Up from the black hills climbs the brimming moon
In full-blown glory!


The distant hills grow bright:
The oaks stand clear; the loneliest nook un-
covers;
The keen vines listen for the footsteps light
Of whispering lovers!


A flash on fields and streams,
And one bird's song tumultuous and tender;
And then - the languor of melodious dreams,
And earth all splendor ------------------ Frank L. Stanton

Awe inspiring and brilliant!!!! --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-24-2014, 10:31 AM
“Only Death,” Pablo Neruda

There are cemeteries that are lonely,
graves full of bones that do not make a sound,
the heart moving through a tunnel,
in it darkness, darkness, darkness,
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.

And there are corpses,
feet made of cold and sticky clay,
death is inside the bones,
like a barking where there are no dogs,
coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,
growing in the damp air like tears of rain.

Sometimes I see alone
coffins under sail,
embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair,
with bakers who are as white as angels,
and pensive young girls married to notary publics,
caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead,
the river of dark purple,
moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death,
filled by the sound of death which is silence.

Death arrives among all that sound
like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it,
comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no
finger in it,
comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue, with no
throat.
Nevertheless its steps can be heard
and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree.

I’m not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see,
but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets,
of violets that are at home in the earth,
because the face of death is green,
and the look death gives is green,
with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf
and the somber color of embittered winter.

But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom,
lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies,
death is inside the broom,
the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses,
it is the needle of death looking for thread.

Death is inside the folding cots:
it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,
in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:
it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,
and the beds go sailing toward a port
where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-24-2014, 10:52 AM
Be Near Me --- by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
translated by Naomi Lazard


Be near me now,
My tormenter, my love, be near me—
At this hour when night comes down,
When, having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes
With the balm of musk in its hands, its diamond lancets,
When it comes with cries of lamentation,
with laughter with songs;
Its blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step.
At this hour when hearts, deep in their hiding places,
Have begun to hope once more, when they start their vigil
For hands still enfolded in sleeves;
When wine being poured makes the sound
of inconsolable children
who, though you try with all your heart,
cannot be soothed.
When whatever you want to do cannot be done,
When nothing is of any use;
—At this hour when night comes down,
When night comes, dragging its long face,
dressed in mourning,
Be with me,
My tormenter, my love, be near me.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-24-2014, 06:42 PM
A Little Thankful Song



For what are we thankful for? For this:
For the breath and the sunlight of life
For the love of the child, and the kiss
On the lips of the mother and wife.
For roses entwining,
For bud and for bloom,
And hopes that are shining
Like stars in the gloom.

For what are we thankful for? For this:
The strength and the patience of toil;
For ever the dreams that are bliss-
The hope of the seed in the soil.
For souls that are whiter
From day unto day;
And lives that are brighter
From going God's way.

For what are we thankful for? For all:
The sunlight-the shadow-the song;
The blossoms may wither and fall,
But the world moves in music along!
For simple, sweet living,
(Tis love that doth teach it)
A heaven forgiving
And faith that can reach it!


Frank L Stanton

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-24-2014, 10:10 PM
Teaching Blind Geniuses


There are those that so love to be blind
ignorant of truth , stone cold in mind
Yet often they think themselves so smart
missing out entirely the reality part


Irks a man to see such blindness praised
goes against decently being raised
Yet nothing to do but flinch and endure
those so wrong yet ever so damn sure

Somehow truth sends 'em into a maddening rage
acting a spoiled child instead of their true age
Nothing to do then but kindly spank their behind
hoping the truth will they then miraculously find

Forty years of religiously doing just that
and yet they each still act like a brat
Starting to think it's just a lost cause
I'd give it up if not for the thundering applause!! :laugh: .......Tyr--04-24-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-25-2014, 09:22 AM
Dreams of Bliss

When I dream I often dream of this
true love so many surely miss
A comfort just knowing she is there
touching her heart , knowing she cares


Time together growing like tree wrapped vines
joy ever sweet like so many fine wines
Facing life as we journey down this long road
heaped with happiness and ever so very bold


Finding great comfort in our joyfully shared fate
a blessing known since our very first date
Dreaming of a great many shared years more
on this and many other sunny paradise shores.....Tyr- 04-25-2014

I was thinking of the journey that brought me to this place in my life. O' was it ever an iffy and dangerous trek... Between dangers I invited in by bad behavior and the ordinary dangers life offers in this world I am indeed very, very lucky to be alive. Yet to find myself this blessed is astounding to me.
Surely God saw something I fail to see
and took great pity on me
Such love is his blessed eternal stand
mercies delivered faithfully to man...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-26-2014, 12:15 PM
Inner Spirit


A true and fighting spirit within us all surely must lay
beneath this weak armor made of water and clay
Has it been destroyed in your life and soul
by seeking comfort, pleasure and another goal?


Waken it if it still remains to be used for greater good
stop playing the excuse of , if only I ever could !
Renew that gifted spirit to stiffen the weakened spine
take strong stands and draw many a hard line


Truly sad that we get only one weak human life to live
copy virtue , kindness and learn to sacrifice and give
Be noble in courageous thought as well as in all your deeds
courage often springs from smallest of little seeds...............Tyr-04-26-2014




The Darkling Thrush

Written by: Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fevourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-27-2014, 10:23 PM
The Relentless Struggle


A man may often desperately fight his inner self
beaten senseless until nothing is left
Such inward slashing leaves no visible scar
yet wounds as deep as are found in any war


A struggle to defeat real and even worse imaginary foes
adding too miserably increasing already tragic woes
Such a fight I find myself engaging in on troubled nights
slashing , gashing and delivering the many bloody bites


As the struggle gets ever so bloody and unrelentingly fierce
soul, heart and brain all are very deeply pierced
Just when the horrible sickening battle is about to be won
time brings on the vanquishing rays of the morning sun......Robert -- 04-27-2014

I went thru a bad night. Dreams that fought my soul until daylight. As I found memory gave me the winning blows. Reality jumped me and dealt some actions that proved anything goes. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-28-2014, 01:27 AM
Darkness at Noon


In this dark cavern blackness misery eats into this weary fearful heart
memories of that sad summer night that you tore my mind and soul apart
An end to this tormenting blindness I do so pray be coming me very soon
for another torment would vanquish me forever into that darkness at noon

As I fight blindly lashing out with curses that are so miserably deep
my heart spits out haunting cries that will forever stain and weep
Do not judge me harshly for the lost soul I find myself now to be
as I beg hopefully for the gentle and truthful clear eyes now to see

Should I find a path to claw my way to back to hope's newly crowned morn
be gentle and kind to this new soul having just been miraculously reborn
As the stars in the clear night sky honor the beauty of Summer's great moon
so shall a newborne light spring forth from a miracle within the darkness at noon.
Tyr--- 04-28-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-28-2014, 01:50 AM
A Daydream

A daydream crashes into my deepest gentle night's sleep
holding sweet those memories I wish forever to keep
Of your sweet touch and beautiful, happy soothing smiles
those that I longed for as we were seperated thousands of miles

Such visions I have of your beautiful lips and dark hair
so real I felt I was already in your loving arms right there
How well I remember that blessed night and following day
when duty forced me to depart while you had to sadly stay

Those parting verses you so faithfully read to me
were sweet kisses that remind me of your parting plea
That I live to return to faithfully, happily marry you
as you wait like the thirsty grass for the early morning dew... Tyr- 04-28-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-28-2014, 10:07 AM
Pierced Heart , Desperate Addiction


Invisible daggers that pierce this shattered heart
often spring from a glorious and loving start
That blessed day started nicely like all the rest
ended with me finding perfect love and facing a test


As I walked the path that did indeed send me to you
you ventured forth with a pretty trap or two
First you brought a body few men could ever resist
like nectar hanging in a sweet and heavenly mist

As I sank deeply into your charms and delicious spell
with glories of love and mere glimpses of a fateful hell
Nothing could stop me from abandoning myself to your all
never seeing disaster and the coming spirit breaking fall

Your loving whispers were like a shattering glory sound
masking the cries from the others you had so easily bound
Had I known , my desire would still have given me solely to you
to entice, pleasure, satisfy and then slowly, wickedly use

These many years since you destroyed a good man's heart
slay me , play me , breaking body and soul desperately apart
Yet I still long for your touch and long night's embrace
even as I beg to send you to hell thus end my lusting disgrace!
Tyr- 04-28-2014

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I was awakened at about 3 am with this running thru my mind. Thoughts of a past true love that to me was shattering and unkind. That woman's charms still haunt me to this day. Tis' why far away from her is where I always stay. Tempt fate at one's own risk. A mistake I fully intend to never make.-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-28-2014, 11:14 PM
A Challenge To The Dark



shot in the eye
shot in the brain
shot in the ****
shot like a flower in the dance

amazing how death wins hands down
amazing how much credence is given to idiot forms of life

amazing how laughter has been drowned out
amazing how viciousness is such a constant

I must soon declare my own war on their war
I must hold to my last piece of ground
I must protect the small space I have made that has allowed me life

my life not their death
my death not their death…


Charles Bukowski

His words were often very brutal and dark. Was he a genius or just raving mad??
I suspect some of both as is so very often the sad case!
The line of which is very often just a whisper, a vapor and a hit to the head.... --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-29-2014, 08:24 PM
After the breakup, misery birthed new joy


I left you my old hat and dirty brown coat
now be happy and don't gloat
You gave me far more agonizing hurt than joy
as you broke me like an unwanted toy

So very tempted to leave you even more
a few hard knocks to try to even the score
Yet my heart pleaded desperately with me
with excuses like branches on a massive tree

Yield not my soul to hate, anger , and spite
small solace to know I was so very right
He was your secret lover and good time friend
and bought you so easily in the end

Are you happy now all miserably broken and so alone
sitting there crying with heart hardened as a stone
Yes, I asked about you every day this very long year
even after I ceased to shed another useless tear

Now wear proudly that old hat and dirty brown coat
read carefully these words that I happily wrote
You no longer my sweet gal, I no longer your lover boy
sad for you but for me it is pure and blessed joy!!----

from about 14 years ago..--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-30-2014, 10:06 AM
One from me and one from Bukowski....

A Dozen Lines To Be Kind

Send me your tired worries forever to bind
I'll wear them easily on my giving mind

Toss me your cares into my dreaming wind
I'll be your best newfound good friend

Loan me all your sad sad goodbyes
I'll cook them into a delicious pie

Sell me any pain you can not stand
I'll totally crush it with my left hand

Give me bad days you can not live
I'll use them to make more to give

Ask me any favor your heart desires
I'll make it come on heavenly fires.....--Tyr- 04-29-2014

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As The Sparrow

To give life you must take life,
and as our grief falls flat and hollow
upon the billion-blooded sea
I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed
with white-legged, white-bellied rotting creatures
lengthily dead and rioting against surrounding scenes.
Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow
did to you; I am old when it is fashionable to be
young; I cry when it is fashionable to laugh.
I hated you when it would have taken less courage
to love.

Charles Bukowski


Quote by Bukowski--

''You begin saving the world by saving one man at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.''
Charles Bukowski (1920-1994), U.S. author, poet. "Too Sensitive," Tales of Ordinary Madness (1967).

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-01-2014, 10:31 PM
A REVELATION, A GIFT


Dark and dank scenery telling details I saw
in a clear night sky and largest moon of all
As I raise my sword to slay the sky's glass
immediately visions of wonder quickly flew past

Down came spirits streaming with ease
singing loudly , pretty as you please
Reflections of souls slipping up and above
each led by a pair of snow white turtle doves

Next came a blow to my upraised sword arm
ceasing my vain attempt to cause great harm
Down flew a spirit swiftly and directly to me
handing me a glittering gift complete with key

As I stopped my anger to examine my prize
a voice commanded telling me bow and tell no lies
I quickly knelt onto humble and bended knee
while ordered to now use that gifted key

As I did I felt rapture in my wicked soul
and love in my wicked spirit began to grow
As love sprang from that glittering chest
deep into my heart on a mercy bound quest

The words in that chest were only two
written in diamonds the words, love you!
At this revelation my mind did finally see
that God had spoken lovingly and directly to me! --Tyr 05-01 2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-01-2014, 11:21 PM
Bluebird



there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?


Charles Bukowski

Do not find it strange that I see something it this man. For I was once just as lost as he. I hope he found his way before he passed on. He had enough spirit to find the path , question is did he?-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-01-2014, 11:37 PM
The Graveyard Rabbit


In the white moonlight, where the willow waves,
He halfway gallops among the graves—
A tiny ghost in the gloom and gleam,
Content to dwell where the dead men dream,

But wary still!
For they plot him ill;
For the graveyard rabbit hath a charm
(May God defend us!) to shield from harm.

Over the shimmering slabs he goes—
Every grave in the dark he knows;
But his nest is hidden from human eye
Where headstones broken on old graves lie.

Wary still!
For they plot him ill;
For the graveyard rabbit, though sceptics scoff,
Charmeth the witch and the wizard off!

The black man creeps, when the night is dim,
Fearful, still, on the track of him;
Or fleetly follows the way he runs,
For he heals the hurts of the conjured ones.

Wary still!
For they plot him ill;
The soul’s bewitched that would find release,—
To the graveyard rabbit go for peace!

He holds their secret—he brings a boon
Where winds moan wild in the dark o’ the moon;
And gold shall glitter and love smile sweet
To whoever shall sever his furry feet!

Wary still!
For they plot him ill;
For the graveyard rabbit hath a charm
(May God defend us!) to shield from harm. Frank L. Stanton

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-02-2014, 10:00 AM
by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Fri Jul 01, 2011 2:35 am

Saw a dirty bastard deliberately run over a stray dog today

The man look to be in his thirties and well dressed

New SUV and obviously a dirty rat

Turned around to chase him down but lost him

Damn good thing too

I had violence in my heart

Such a deserving ass kicking and fate decided no way

Fate, fickle and mysterious shadows in a creeping mist

But that guy sure as hell is on my list.--:X--Tyr

See , I've always had a bad temper and usually acted upon it. July 1st 2011 was that post, just three months after my heart attack. A bit of free verse from back then and its not bad even if I do say so myself.. :laugh:

By the way, a week after that incident a guy that saw it and saw me do a U-turn to chase the guy told me the bastard was from out of state and was visiting his neighbor down the street and had left town that day after seeing he had been chased! I asked where the scoundrel was from and was told Cali... I replied a liberal no doubt, just compassionately sending that poor dog to heaven.. Left a request with the guy telling me this information= Please inform me if ever the bastard returns to visit your neighbor. I want to have a special kind of "talk" with that guy's sorry ass. That kind of behavior this man is damn slow to forget or forgive. I still plan on gifting an attitude adjustment... Being generous that way.. :laugh:

Did I mention I love dogs and had one (mine!) deliberately ran over when I was a kid far too young to do anything about it?
I settle that score many years later as an adult and it was pure joy doing so.. Trust me on that!! -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-02-2014, 08:46 PM
Some free verse..

Starbeams Dance


Starbeams glow in the sand
hope lives eternal in heart of man
Life dies in nearby waters
as fish fight for sight
of the rising moon
Lovers stroll beneath our sky
innocence gone far too soon
As glory burst forth singing yet another tune --Tyr 0502-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-03-2014, 02:05 PM
Changing Ways


Changing old ways and changing old style
Leading you to think rather than just smile
Sending swimming daggers into your brain
Your body shivers as soaked in a cold rain

The lights ooze and bleed ever deeper into you
Misery emerges and you know you got your due
Hurting from stonedead feet to pounding head
Finding wisdom in the newly born words read

Aching pain given only to reward great relief
Then you will know great truth and find belief
Gone are the pleas once enslaving body and soul
Revelation in kind guides into a saving goal

Words slash, blast and invincibly take measure
Bringing forth knowledge's greatest treasure
Change your ways, change your style
Celebrate and reward with a brilliant smile .. Tyr- 05-03 2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-03-2014, 06:13 PM
Evil, Many Shapes!


Serpents lie in cold silent wait
sporting cold life taking bites
just one of evil dark fates
waiting to destroy man's earthly delight

Enemy hides in cover just out of view
gun locked ,loaded and aiming at you
just one of many evil dark fates
waiting to destroy life true

Spirit hides there in silent glow
timing your very next fateful deed
just one of more evil dark fates
waiting to destroy your last earthly need...Tyr 05-03-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-05-2014, 10:10 PM
Free verse, One I did tonight at a poetry forum... had to split it into two parts there.
Here it can stay in one!


A Dream That Came True.


In my mind's eye I had seen her undress a thousand times
sending hot flashes that exploded with her moaning
Months before ever summoning the courage to speak to her
I practiced the words befitting her splendor!

She had been noticing my adoring glances as she
adjusted her skimpy bikini in the bright sun
Showing just what a man, any man would hope to see
I moved closer anticipating her charming refusal
to my shock she answered a quick yes and our date
that night was on!

I asked her to wear something sexy and she replied
how about I wear no panties?
My stammering answer made her laugh that laugh
the one that sent shivers up my spine in anticipation

It is on! We met at theatre and hardly watched the movie
for her hands were busier than mine!
A nice change to feel the heat of a woman so anxious
I almost wept with joy! What a thrill! She had kept her promise
No panties!!!
None under that sexy short skirt that had made the other men
openly lust for her charms! I saw and was amazed that this vision of
sexual beauty was actually with me!
What happened later that night you can imagine,
the earth shook, the sky fell and I heard a ringing bell!

We married two months later and it was pure sex and bliss
Non stop sex night and day.. Ahh, the memories that last a
lifetime!
Nothing that great can last forever. We burned like the Sun for
a few years and then it happened..
The crash!
My motorcycle hit a tree ,I was rushed to the hospital and woke up
three days later to discover it had been only a very vivid daydream!
My heart broke , I was sorry to have came back to the world! Then,
O' yes then in walks a vision so lovely my heart almost stopped

A new nurse. So hot the paint on the walls started melting.
Over she floats to my bedside. I sat wide eyed looking like a fool!
Awestruck with anticipation! She took my hand, took my pulse .

I fumbled for words, I fought for control. I begged for help to impress
her!
Finally, finally I felt power return and I asked her to just pinch me!
Pinch me! Let me know I am not dreaming again..
She laughed and pinched my left cheek. The lower one! I felt the earth
begin to rise. She noticed and laughed
LAUGHED THAT LAUGH!!! That laugh!
That laugh came from those sweet lips. I begged for help and she smiled,
O' that smile!
As she turned to leave I asked her to see me again and she said yes!
I shall return in two hours to give you your bath.. Then winked at me!
Longest two hours of my life!
Then I woke up still laying beside my crashed motorcycle!
With a broken leg and shattered dream!!!
Fate can be so cruel.....
So damn cruel...... Then the door opened and I hear her say with a
smile. Time for your bath darling !!! Its late and I'll block this door!
Then she removed her clothes. Crap, dreaming again I thought...
And that is how I met my first wife. Yes she was a dream!!
Something that great never lasts, never lasts.... Tyr 05-05--2014

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dedicated to my first wife.... and some of its true!!! -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-06-2014, 11:00 PM
My recent post at my poetry forum..

Mercy Sought, Justice Sadly Given!


The scent of your spirit announced your love nightly
a whisper of sweetness with a hint of sexiness lightly
No visual needs to precede your comforting lovely gift
just a kind word from you gently my heart uplifts

Those beautiful nights that gave we our precious all
should have never led to such a blue and tragic fall
Lay the mistake upon my arrogance and stubborn pride
I foolishly sought your breath taking beauty to hide!

Jealousy is a vicious and dark angel sent to take away
love true and the sweetness of happiness the live long day!
I sought precious time to amend my silly and unhappy mistake
as you sailed across forever on the "no forgiveness lake"!

Now I live in a dark pit filled with a lost and lovely dream
as another enjoys your nights and makes your sexy love steam
Is there no reprieve from this unearthly hell I arrogantly made?
from a stupid hand of romantic deceit I like a fool played?

As I seek a gentle mercy that I know I do not truly deserve
grant this one sweet mercy and your love I forever serve!
Send away my sincere and repentant request will doom my life
As I seek love's forgiveness and your hand as my beautiful wife!


Rewritten from memory of a letter I once sent to a fine beautiful
lady just too damn good for the extremely wild young fool I once was!
Original composition was well over 30 years ago.
Destroyed by a jealous lover many years later!!
This offering is very close but sadly time's erosion has not allowed
me to recreate it perfectly now.
That brilliant lady rightly refused to forgive me my trespass!
As I look back I see her wisdom.....

Robert L..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-07-2014, 06:58 PM
Line by Line, Enjoy the Roar

Wrote my first verse at the tender age of nine
with my favorite blue crayon line by line

By age ten I was laying 'em down with a red ink pen
cruising along in a hurry only stop every now and then

Teen years saw me typing them out like a noted sage
spilling my heart and lost love crushes all in a rage

As an adult I slowed down only to drink in my wife's love
pen was as silently dead as was the mountaintop far above

Cast aside, my pen soon called me back to inspiring heights
tossing out words of true love, jealousy and midnight fights

Middle age I had penned a book of three hundred works
shown only to friends, never to the many foolish jerks

Now returning to splash a few bright colors back on
memory willing I can play and sing a few new songs

Hope to write my last verse at ripe old age of ninety-nine
even if it is bad just making it will be so damn fine!-- :laugh:---Tyr 05-07-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-08-2014, 12:41 AM
A Father's Love For, Son's Great Gift

The wonder of childhood still resides in this father's heart
watching my beautiful son while praying we never grow apart

His tendency to laugh gloriously as he wins any video game
his great love as he calls out so gayly my simple name

A great celebration of the gifts of life he now teaches me
sits deep in this heart and forever, forever it will be

A love precious time surely will bless abundantly as it grows
joys and tribulations as he keeps mother and I on our tippy toes

Joyously still hear the patter of his early morning racing feet
as to our bedroom he runs asking for those special weekend treats

Life will yield ever more of these glorious and loving times
as I record each adoringly in heartfelt and loving little rhymes

Tyr.. 05-07-2014

Inspired tonight as our son begged to stay up longer to sit in my lap!
Such a charmer he slays me into submission..-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-09-2014, 08:17 AM
About , Those Angel Eyes


Silently basking in your soft and gentle light,
living deep within your natural glow
Your precious lips tell all a man ever needs to know
as heaven you cast into the starlight night


That night across the room I first saw those loving eyes
there hope cast into my soul winning your hand and heart
Thoughts of bliss and life that should never see us part
I swore an oath to win you should it take a thousand tries


By your loving side, softly resting in your gentle shade
stars faded to your light as the moon sought your love
Angels dancing in rhythm singing glory from far above
pale against steamy nights and the hot love we made


Your soul and spirit were to cry for
your loving touch to desperately die for
As love sent me play for , to even pray for
heaven and paradise resting in the light of
.................................................. ...those angel eyes!

05-08-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-10-2014, 10:43 PM
Ode to a Princess


her beautiful singing voice was joy
her gentleness was known so well
at her birth angels sang
flowers envy her aura and smell

blue tears from loving heart
rest in her soft, admirable soul
for never again did spirit rest
until his love she find and know

ever joyful in her imagined fate
she rejected worldly troubles and fears
and birthed treasures to disperse
along with heavenly and happy tears

the years have flown by since her gifts
blessed those she met in giving days
as her time was granted from heaven above
and her treasures so freely given away! --- Tyr 05-10-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-11-2014, 10:54 PM
I am now 2 weeks into a rather large poetry forum that one of my friends invited me to join.
There I currently have 86 poem posted . Some few that have won contests there. This is my most recent offering and it was done on a dare. My friend knows I have never publicly presented any of my private writes that I only have ever given to past lovers. He dared me to present a very hot one. Had to be hot!!
Bet me 50 bucks. Tomorrow he gets to see how it never pays to bet me because when I accept I am almost always assured of winning..

So I rewrote this from memory of a poem I sent to a very special lady friend back in my youth (1973).
It is not 100% of the original but quite close.. Old age a bummer to a memory over 4 decades old. :laugh:
I post it here because poetry is art . And as such it is held to a different standard .
This I hope offends nobody's finer sensibilities as it's not intended to offend at all.

Here it is and take it as presented, an expression of love from a wild young man to a sweet exquisite lover over 40 years ago.. .. one I lost due to my arrogant and prideful vanity.





Lovely Places, Time Never Erases


Pinch me I am bleeding, losing my love that is true
Pinch me I am slowing slipping far , far away from you
Adore me as you once awe struck and lovingly did
taste me as your heart needs my blood to renew

Touch me I am needing, your heart to wed mine again
Touch me I am needing , your true love without end
Lay me in your soft bed to please gently this night
slay my doubts , love me as your lover and a friend

Pleasure me I am awaiting, your needs and sweet delights
Pleasure me I am awaiting, your wet kisses all these nights
undress me slowly as you hold back your delicious moans
eat my love as you are my princess on our private flights

Love me I am hungry, for your sexy curves, hips and lips
Love me I am hungry, for your hottest sexual fantasy trips
Send me on a lust filled journey into your greatest treasure
Soothe me until my satisfaction explodes, burst or rips

Teach me I am willing, to explore your exquisite private places
Teach me I am willing, to drive your pleasure until time erases
all thoughts except rose burst into your sweet red-hot flower
tasting your heavenly sexual delights leaving white love traces.... Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-12-2014, 09:30 AM
New version rewritten this morning to enter contest with. -Tyr


Lovely Places, Time Never Erases


Heal me I am bleeding, losing my love that is so true
Heal me I am bleeding, ever slipping far away from you
Adore me as you once love struck and faithfully did
taste me as your heart needs my blood to renew

Touch me I am needing, your heart to wed mine again
Touch me I am needing , your true love without end
Lay me in your soft bed to please gently this night
slay my doubts , love me as your lover and a friend

Pleasure me I am awaiting, your needs and sweet delights
Pleasure me I am awaiting, your wet kisses all these nights
undress me slowly as you hold back your delicious moans
eat my love as you are my princess on our private flights

Love me I am hungry, for your sexy curves, hips and lips
Love me I am hungry, for your hottest sexual fantasy trips
Send me on a lust filled journey into your greatest treasure
Soothe me until my satisfaction explodes, burst or rips

Teach me I am willing, to explore your exquisite private places
Teach me I am willing, to drive your pleasure until time erases
all thoughts except rose-bursts into your sweet red-hot flower
tasting your heavenly sexual delights leaving white love traces....
Robert L. , rewritten 05-11-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-12-2014, 10:05 AM
A Poor Unfortunate





His hoss went dead an' his mule went lame;
He lost six cows in a poker game;
A harricane came on a summer's day,
An' carried the house whar' he lived away;
Then a airthquake come when that wuz gone,
An' swallered the lan' that the house stood on!
An' the tax collector,
he
come roun'
An' charged him up fer the hole in the groun'!
An' the city marshal-he come in view
An' said he wanted his street tax, too!

II

Did he moan an' sigh? Did he set an' cry
An' cuss the harricane sweepin' by?
Did he grieve that his ol' friends failed to call
When the airthquake come an' swallered all?
Never a word o' blame he said,
With all them troubles on top his head!
Not
him
…. He clumb to the top o' the hill-
Whar' standin' room wuz left him still,
An', barin' his head, here's what he said:
'I reckon it's time to git up an' git;
But, Lord, I hain't had the measels yit!'


Frank Lebby Stanton

Simply brilliant.... Seems he predicted future government actions.- :laugh:-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-13-2014, 09:05 PM
Imagination Castle


Sailing within the realm of imagination rewards
all the soul, spirit and love that lives within
Flying among the clouds of fantasy,life and poetry
gently inspires and kisses the hearts of women and men

Standing firm among the angels that wrap our glittering souls
destiny changes at our mere whim and flight-filled fancy
Running alongside our beloved sends whimsical sparks to stir
all treasure that romantic love and beautiful sex ever holds!

Resting upon journeys travelled deeply into huge, magical realms
stamps our spirit with a solace and calm forever sought by man
Racing into love filled fantasies so deep angels must help us out
sail, fly, stand, run, rest or race imagination creates any place!

Be rich in your great fancies and solid in your brilliant dreams
love conquers all and all can be far more than it first seems!

Tyr-- 05-13-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-14-2014, 10:14 AM
A Storm's Wrath


thunder from dark, dark skies once were they brilliant blue
swirling are the leaves that mighty wind has now thrown
buckets of cold hard rain the starved earth does quench
as gliding winged eagles do fly among the darkened clouds
strong waves of storm's might pushing them soaring all about
as lightning strikes objects resting tall upon sodden ground
life marvels at Nature's massive stormy blasts and loud show
hiding now are the creatures that earlier were out to play
spiteful wind rips the trees that stand defiantly in it's way
floods fill the deep burrows where so many wild critters hide
with no fear of Nature's wrath and it's dark, stormy wet ride
time stops Nature's wrath slowly gliding along it's endless path...

Tyr- 05-13-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-16-2014, 09:09 AM
From Kipling


The Ballad of Boh Da Thone
This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone,
Erst a Pretender to Theebaw's throne,
Who harried the district of Alalone:
How he met with his fate and the V.P.P.*
At the hand of Harendra Mukerji,
Senior Gomashta, G.B.T.


Boh Da Thone was a warrior bold:
His sword and his rifle were bossed with gold,

And the Peacock Banner his henchmen bore
Was stiff with bullion, but stiffer with gore.

He shot at the strong and he slashed at the weak
From the Salween scrub to the Chindwin teak:

He crucified noble, he sacrificed mean,
He filled old ladies with kerosene:

While over the water the papers cried,
"The patriot fights for his countryside!"

But little they cared for the Native Press,
The worn white soldiers in Khaki dress,

Who tramped through the jungle and camped in the byre,
Who died in the swamp and were tombed in the mire,

Who gave up their lives, at the Queen's Command,
For the Pride of their Race and the Peace of the Land.

Now, first of the foemen of Boh Da Thone
Was Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone,

And his was a Company, seventy strong,
Who hustled that dissolute Chief along.

There were lads from Galway and Louth and Meath
Who went to their death with a joke in their teeth,

And worshipped with fluency, fervour, and zeal
The mud on the boot-heels of "Crook" O'Neil.

But ever a blight on their labours lay,
And ever their quarry would vanish away,

Till the sun-dried boys of the Black Tyrone
Took a brotherly interest in Boh Da Thone:

And, sooth, if pursuit in possession ends,
The Boh and his trackers were best of friends.

The word of a scout -- a march by night --
A rush through the mist -- a scattering fight --

A volley from cover -- a corpse in the clearing --
The glimpse of a loin-cloth and heavy jade earring --

The flare of a village -- the tally of slain --
And. . .the Boh was abroad on the raid again!

They cursed their luck, as the Irish will,
They gave him credit for cunning and skill,

They buried their dead, they bolted their beef,
And started anew on the track of the thief

Till, in place of the "Kalends of Greece", men said,
"When Crook and his darlings come back with the head."

They had hunted the Boh from the hills to the plain --
He doubled and broke for the hills again:

They had crippled his power for rapine and raid,
They had routed him out of his pet stockade,

And at last, they came, when the Daystar tired,
To a camp deserted -- a village fired.

A black cross blistered the morning-gold,
And the body upon it was stark and cold.

The wind of the dawn went merrily past,
The high grass bowed her plumes to the blast.

And out of the grass, on a sudden, broke
A spirtle of fire, a whorl of smoke --

And Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone
Was blessed with a slug in the ulnar-bone --
The gift of his enemy Boh Da Thone.

(Now a slug that is hammered from telegraph-wire
Is a thorn in the flesh and a rankling fire.)

. . . . .

The shot-wound festered -- as shot-wounds may
In a steaming barrack at Mandalay.

The left arm throbbed, and the Captain swore,
"I'd like to be after the Boh once more!"

The fever held him -- the Captain said,
"I'd give a hundred to look at his head!"

The Hospital punkahs creaked and whirred,
But Babu Harendra (Gomashta) heard.

He thought of the cane-brake, green and dank,
That girdled his home by the Dacca tank.

He thought of his wife and his High School son,
He thought -- but abandoned the thought -- of a gun.

His sleep was broken by visions dread
Of a shining Boh with a silver head.

He kept his counsel and went his way,
And swindled the cartmen of half their pay.

. . . . .

And the months went on, as the worst must do,
And the Boh returned to the raid anew.

But the Captain had quitted the long-drawn strife,
And in far Simoorie had taken a wife;

And she was a damsel of delicate mould,
With hair like the sunshine and heart of gold,

And little she knew the arms that embraced
Had cloven a man from the brow to the waist:

And little she knew that the loving lips
Had ordered a quivering life's eclipse,

Or the eye that lit at her lightest breath
Had glared unawed in the Gates of Death.

(For these be matters a man would hide,
As a general rule, from an innocent Bride.)

And little the Captain thought of the past,
And, of all men, Babu Harendra last.

. . . . .

But slow, in the sludge of the Kathun road,
The Government Bullock Train toted its load.

Speckless and spotless and shining with ghi,
In the rearmost cart sat the Babu-jee.

And ever a phantom before him fled
Of a scowling Boh with a silver head.

Then the lead-cart stuck, though the coolies slaved,
And the cartmen flogged and the escort raved;

And out of the jungle, with yells and squeals,
Pranced Boh Da Thone, and his gang at his heels!

Then belching blunderbuss answered back
The Snider's snarl and the carbine's crack,

And the blithe revolver began to sing
To the blade that twanged on the locking-ring,

And the brown flesh blued where the bay'net kissed,
As the steel shot back with a wrench and a twist,

And the great white oxen with onyx eyes
Watched the souls of the dead arise,

And over the smoke of the fusillade
The Peacock Banner staggered and swayed.

Oh, gayest of scrimmages man may see
Is a well-worked rush on the G.B.T.!

The Babu shook at the horrible sight,
And girded his ponderous loins for flight,

But Fate had ordained that the Boh should start
On a lone-hand raid of the rearmost cart,

And out of that cart, with a bellow of woe,
The Babu fell -- flat on the top of the Boh!

For years had Harendra served the State,
To the growth of his purse and the girth of his p]^et.

There were twenty stone, as the tally-man knows,
On the broad of the chest of this best of Bohs.

And twenty stone from a height discharged
Are bad for a Boh with a spleen enlarged.

Oh, short was the struggle -- severe was the shock --
He dropped like a bullock -- he lay like a block;

And the Babu above him, convulsed with fear,
Heard the labouring life-breath hissed out in his ear.

And thus in a fashion undignified
The princely pest of the Chindwin died.

. . . . .

Turn now to Simoorie where, lapped in his ease,
The Captain is petting the Bride on his knees,

Where the whit of the bullet, the wounded man's scream
Are mixed as the mist of some devilish dream --

Forgotten, forgotten the sweat of the shambles
Where the hill-daisy blooms and the gray monkey gambols,

From the sword-belt set free and released from the steel,
The Peace of the Lord is on Captain O'Neil.

. . . . .

Up the hill to Simoorie -- most patient of drudges --
The bags on his shoulder, the mail-runner trudges.

"For Captain O'Neil, Sahib. One hundred and ten
Rupees to collect on delivery."
Then

(Their breakfast was stopped while the screw-jack and hammer
Tore waxcloth, split teak-wood, and chipped out the dammer;)

Open-eyed, open-mouthed, on the napery's snow,
With a crash and a thud, rolled -- the Head of the Boh!

And gummed to the scalp was a letter which ran: --
"IN FIELDING FORCE SERVICE.
Encampment,
10th Jan.

"Dear Sir, -- I have honour to send, as you said,
For final approval (see under) Boh's Head;

"Was took by myself in most bloody affair.
By High Education brought pressure to bear.

"Now violate Liberty, time being bad,
To mail V.P.P. (rupees hundred) Please add

"Whatever Your Honour can pass. Price of Blood
Much cheap at one hundred, and children want food;

"So trusting Your Honour will somewhat retain
True love and affection for Govt. Bullock Train,

"And show awful kindness to satisfy me,
I am,
Graceful Master,
Your
H. MUKERJI."

. . . . .

As the rabbit is drawn to the rattlesnake's power,
As the smoker's eye fills at the opium hour,

As a horse reaches up to the manger above,
As the waiting ear yearns for the whisper of love,

From the arms of the Bride, iron-visaged and slow,
The Captain bent down to the Head of the Boh.

And e'en as he looked on the Thing where It lay
'Twixt the winking new spoons and the napkins' array,

The freed mind fled back to the long-ago days --
The hand-to-hand scuffle -- the smoke and the blaze --

The forced march at night and the quick rush at dawn --
The banjo at twilight, the burial ere morn --

The stench of the marshes -- the raw, piercing smell
When the overhand stabbing-cut silenced the yell --

The oaths of his Irish that surged when they stood
Where the black crosses hung o'er the Kuttamow flood.

As a derelict ship drifts away with the tide
The Captain went out on the Past from his Bride,

Back, back, through the springs to the chill of the year,
When he hunted the Boh from Maloon to Tsaleer.

As the shape of a corpse dimmers up through deep water,
In his eye lit the passionless passion of slaughter,

And men who had fought with O'Neil for the life
Had gazed on his face with less dread than his wife.

For she who had held him so long could not hold him --
Though a four-month Eternity should have controlled him --

But watched the twin Terror -- the head turned to head --
The scowling, scarred Black, and the flushed savage Red --

The spirit that changed from her knowing and flew to
Some grim hidden Past she had never a clue to.

But It knew as It grinned, for he touched it unfearing,
And muttered aloud, "So you kept that jade earring!"

Then nodded, and kindly, as friend nods to friend,
"Old man, you fought well, but you lost in the end."

. . . . .

The visions departed, and Shame followed Passion: --
"He took what I said in this horrible fashion,

"I'll write to Harendra!" With language unsainted
The Captain came back to the Bride. . .who had fainted.

. . . . .

And this is a fiction? No. Go to Simoorie
And look at their baby, a twelve-month old Houri,

A pert little, Irish-eyed Kathleen Mavournin --
She's always about on the Mall of a mornin' --

And you'll see, if her right shoulder-strap is displaced,
This: Gules upon argent, a Boh's Head, erased!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-17-2014, 11:29 AM
Standing In Bitter Rain


Standing in this deep, lonesome rain
confusion is my only friend
Agony of great death and pain
as loss cries the weakness of mortal men!

Are we mortals destined for greater
as we wander here ever so lost
Our end so often sooner than later
is love only ever worth the high cost!

In this cold wetness the hurt only grows
as seconds turn to dark blue hours
The loss of my sweetheart only grows
bitter is the death of my loving flower!

Standing in this cold, hard wet chill
love again only can ever save me
That thought tasting as a very bitter pill
do I dare ever let go of my loving Amy!

Tyr-- 05-17-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-18-2014, 08:25 PM
My newest write birthed today to enter into a contest using --imagination-- as the primary key..



The Monster, the Saving Deed

A clawed hook through the locked door she did ease
unlocking the door so silently and quick
breathtakingly sweet was the smell of freedom now
no more sadistic monster to obey and please!

A ghastly tribulation began many decades ago
captured and imprisoned in dark cell below
beaten into submission to a dark , jealous beast
locked in glass cage naked , alone and for show

Iron will and steel mind this maiden did keep
with desperate hope to one day be free
from this prison so deep and wretchedly dark
consoled by bravery and heart refusing to weep

Years dragged by as her tormentor often did please
to inflict pain and degradation upon her soul
each visit bringing more misery and pain than last
clinging to future that held hope of freedom to seize

Waking to find herself no longer a young maid waiting
the mirror revealed her beauty and youth now lost
anger drove her soul, heart and mind to ever endure
her iron resolve gifted never to let hope start fading

Memories of deep lashes from stinging rawhide whips
blood soaked floor and waking to agonizing pain
maiden prepared for her hopeful chance every day
dreams of boarding any of the imaginary rescue ships

Now time too had ravaged her body and iron will
a struggle to hold the will for a future freedom try
cold , dark , lonely nights too many to ever forget
miseries faced with pain and coldly desperate chill

She had counted each visit to be once every week
the monster sought it's love of inflicting great hurt
silently screaming each chance so cruelly dashed
as freedom became less like a ship to hopefully seek

Yet she had nothing else to grip or dare hold dear
intense pain and deep blues became her prison mates
memories of lost love ones steeled her deep resolve
as a clever and daring plan became so very crystal clear

Dare she attempt to slay the hideous and massive beast
as it lay resting by her tortured and beaten body
seize it's weapon so loosely held upon it's left side
stab, stab, and stab until it's evil life was released

Fateful day arrived as she felt no longer dared to wait
beast entered to beat her down as never had before
the monster then laid resting quietly by her aching side
soaking in her brutal savage pain as fruits gladly ate

Quietly she turned to reach for that golden short sword
the beast resting saw nor heard her carefully planned moves
cutting loose the ropes binding her bruised and battered arms
stab, stab and stab deeply her evil, tormenting beastly Lord

Franticly she searched everywhere for the freedom giving key
finding none she begged and cried for precious help please
she saw the shape of it's hideously clawed left hook
a short sword stroke and soon she would be finally free

A clawed hook through the locked door she did ease
unlocking the door so silently and quick
breathtakingly sweet was the smell of freedom now
with no more sadistic monster to obey and please!

Tyr- 05-18-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-19-2014, 12:10 AM
Changed my entry into the imagination contest, sat here and created a much shorter
write to enter.. Here it is...

Imagination Soars, Reality Fades



Imagination engulfs my tortured and half-hearted soul
flying with eagles, slaying dragons and away I go
No restraints to destroy my spirited and fantasy mind
talking with spirits and they replying back in kind!

Stepping lightly into magical and dangerous dark realms
loving in public , sailing ships with myself at the helm
Fighting mighty beasts that bite, slash and eat brave men
winning out against all odds , pride and glory at the end!

Piloting great , powerful starships deep into outer space
always a hero regardless of courage, size, power or race
Remaking stories as quick as my mind can think of more
counting treasure, saving lives and always keeping score!

Imagination saves my uneventful and lonesome boring life
saving the world, bringing peace, destroying every strife
Sing me a song and I can dream it's vibrant color and tale
needing no Aladdin's lamp or well used wishing well !

Tyr-- 05-18-2014

gabosaurus
05-19-2014, 01:42 AM
You got gold in your mouth
We ain't see no gold since the priests left
You got silver on your wrists
We ain't seen no silver since the airplane crash last year

You got blue shining skies we got the sun in our eyes
And we're going blind
We don't want your money we want mine

You got shoes on your feet
We ain't seen no shoes since the soldiers came
You got food in your mouth
And that ain't even funny

You got blue shining skies we got the sun in our eyes
And we're going blind
We don't want your money we want mine

If we should threaten you we're wasting our time
If we appeal to you we're wasting our time
But if we ask you very nicely please be kind
We don't want your money we want mine

"We Want Mine" by John Palumbo

gabosaurus
05-19-2014, 11:12 PM
If anyone wonders, the above is among my all-time favorite song lyrics.

<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/mAAtlSM-yNw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-20-2014, 12:23 AM
If anyone wonders, the above is among my all-time favorite song lyrics.

<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/mAAtlSM-yNw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

That's pretty damn good! Never heard of that band, will check out their other songs now..
I saw the lyrics in the other post and asked you if it was poetry or song.
I thought most likely song because it just had that feel to it.
Whomever wrote the lyrics has a poet's heart , that's for sure! -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-20-2014, 10:55 AM
Written this morn for another contest...

Silver Chalice of Hope


Once chased that Silver Chalice with abandon and glee
life as yet unlived and fate yet to test,
the bounty , purity and sweetness from my living tree
days turned to years as Chalice was laid to rest

Joys, births , deaths and sorrows all cut deeply into me
Silver Chalice desperately sought yet never found,
journeying ever forward with this trust my sacred key
Silver Chalice or not , this soul is still Heaven bound!

Tyr-- 05-20-2014

gabosaurus
05-20-2014, 11:50 AM
IMHO, John Palumbo is one of the most talented song writers ever. His lyrics are very sharp and acerbic.

Another remarkable song by Crack The Sky, about nuclear apathy.

<iframe src="//www.youtube.com/embed/jPXdaffq5bw" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" width="420"></iframe>


Standing room only at L.A.X.
I trade my ticket for some cigarettes
I won't believe it till they disappear


President's hiding on a submarine
See how he runs away from history
I won't believe it till they disappear
I won't believe it till I disappear


After all we've been through
Doesn't it seem a little bit funny to you
We should all shine from the violet blue
And now we're calling you from the greenhouse


All of the warriors have gone away
I sit and watch the sky, waiting for the rain
I won't believe it till I disappear
I won't believe it till I disappear
I won't believe you till I disappear


After all we've been through
Doesn't it seem a little bit funny to you
We should all shine from the violet blue
And now we're calling you from the greenhouse

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-22-2014, 06:58 PM
What the Angels Whisper
by---- Keith O.J. Hunt





What the Angels Whisper


How hope still clings in the maze of youth,

though a vessel so tender,

not yet cured, apt to blow in the wind

as a ripened daisy,

a fledgling ----

too much a babe for a serpent's wile;

A helping hand awaits in the arms of time,

where moments pass to eternity,

the winds are hushed with reprieve,

always,

there is a friend staring to dawn


From love roars the mightiest wind,

of a warmth most enduring,

The rose sifts most sweet

in youthful shallows,

not deep of a withered old;

ere anger is bred and seasoned,

tamed to mother's ease,

The old man forgets, the harridan scoffs

while the child rides the winds

of rosy-dawns and soft remembrance,

somehow, the ancient are redeemed


Let love speak her tender tongue,

atop mountains too aloft for wicked ears,

Soothe she the weeping wayward,

the broken bone, fevers ungodly;

though she is mysterious to the ignorant,

confounds the tyrant in his self-genius ----

only God could know her name,

whispered infinite

(she is love)



** Excerpt from my epic ' The Blood of the Prophets'
(unfinished as of yet)**



A fantastic write by one of my friends .. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-22-2014, 07:03 PM
No Longer Mourn for Me When I Am Dead



If Death should call, let me go free;
It's only Heaven beckons me.
If I should step beyond the veil
Of sight and sound and voice, 't is well;
I shall be glad to place my head
Beneath the sod with other dead.
My spirit will not linger there
But float on myriad colored air
And dip its wings o'er twinkling stars
And ride the moon's bright, silver car.
At last my yearning soul will know,
Forever ceased its worldly woe.
If Death comes, do not robe in black
As if you want my spirit back;
I would not want your soul to grieve
Nor stand here desolate, bereaved.
I shall be glad at last to go;
Rejoice with me who wished it so.
It's not a morbid, ghastly thought
But one in Grace and Glory wrought.
For just beyond life's ebbing sea,
Beyond earth's pain and agony,
I dimly see the other shore
Where I shall live forevermore.
Death shall but serve to chauffer me
From galaxy to Galaxy.
His fingers do not clutch and tear
The soul from one who does not fear;
That soul is borne up in his arms
In ecstasy, without alarms.
Death will not be my dreaded fate:
He is but Heaven's op'ning gate.

by Faye Gibson

Another fine write by another friend of mine.. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-23-2014, 10:12 AM
Ode To , We Dead



Ode To , We Dead

We dead, dine it darkened solitudes,
man void of loves, hates and attitudes

We dead, chase no longer mortal dream,
no longer lie, steal, cheat or scheme

We dead, favor no great lusting beauty,
having no appetite for sex or duty

We dead, grant no great requested favor,
gift the rose or smell the flavor

We dead, will not speak words of praise,
never unless our souls are blessed to raise

We dead, spirit silenced in passing time,
cast down with no living tree to climb

We dead, sleep ever in coldly silent repose,
crushed the life of beauty and fair rose

We dead , hear no sweet words of mortal loves
no music , no cooing of loving turtle doves

We dead, find no pleasure in our dark rest,
no life, love or joy in giving our very best

We dead, shout no songs of beautiful glory,
long past lived , awaiting another story

We dead, laid in for sleep and resting days,
no longer actors in everyday mortal plays...

We dead, send no warm comfort to our friends,
cold is this dark, damp ground we reside in

We dead, no longer birth life loving dreams,
drink from cold, running mountain streams

We dead , no longer sing of praise and glory,
resting here awaiting another spiritual story

We dead, can not act to erase our many mistakes,
cold regret deepens pain in these darkened lakes

Tyr- 05-23-2014

Written a few moments ago for another poetry contest.. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-24-2014, 03:04 PM
I hope you may enjoy this write. I finished it moments ago , having wrote it for a
special themed competition.
Had in mind twice as many lines but a limit was placed upon the length. I dearly
hate such limits(when imposed) because they restrain the author's creativity..-Tyr



Flowers of the Curious Mind



Sent were flowers of the curious mind
following echoes of Cantu's muse
No curses , words grossly unkind
insults hidden deeply in clever ruse

Dare not stab sweet music of mortal man
with deeds sordidly played tho' sweet
Transgress not Nature's surviving plan
with arrogant contempt born of defeat

Embrace life's melody as a lost friend
dancing within it's tune so fine
Live, live gloriously until life's end
drink, drink richly of it's finest wine!

05-24-2014

Having had so many that placed recently and some taking first place I
decided to compose one for this special contest although its not my usual
practice to be so rigidly limited.. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-26-2014, 10:57 AM
A great write from a talented poet, from my new poetry home.
A tribute to our soldiers on this holiday ! -Tyr




A Soldier’s Plight



We move alone surrounded in plain sight
Wanderers in the present, future, past
Invisibly we share a soldier’s plight

A pebble in the vision of their night
A shadow just outside the livings grasp
We move alone surrounded in plain sight

Sad echo of the tin-clad fallen knight
Heroes, adrift in life’s unfeeling lapse,
Invisibly we share a soldier’s plight

Our eyes cast down, our scarred hands clenching tight
Warriors, still responding to the task,
We move alone surrounded in plain sight

We share the bond of those condemned to fight
Old battles that still haunt their daytime naps
Invisibly we share a soldier’s plight

Our shadows pass with simple nod of kin
Acknowledging, in loneliness, a friend.
We move alone surrounded in plain sight
Invisibly we share a soldier’s plight.



John G. Lawless
5/26/2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-26-2014, 08:42 PM
Distant Thoughts


Diamonds shattering just behind her family's door
for the life of her dear father is no more!
Fate set it's seal too early upon her young life
results of a great tragedy born of mental strife

Death brought shadows blocking out healing light
no more beautiful sunrise as all is darkest night
Wickedly it's daggers into that soul deeply cut
misery and pain sole companions in this tragic rut

So very relentless are such deep heartache blues
often birthed on strange paths one did not choose
Father lost in desperation of mental illness's haze
poison taken to end his painful and confusing days

Silently reading from the one great spiritual book
a mourning , soulful repose daughter now took
Seeking solace as she gazed into another realm
a journey on rescue ship , beloved Savior at the helm!

Tyr- 05-26-2014

Written this morn for another contest...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-27-2014, 06:34 PM
Distant Thoughts


Diamonds shattering just behind her family's door
for the life of her dear father is no more!
Fate set it's seal too early upon her young life
results of a great tragedy born of mental strife

Death brought shadows blocking out healing light
no more beautiful sunrise as all is darkest night
Wickedly it's daggers into that soul deeply cut
misery and pain sole companions in this tragic rut

So very relentless are such deep heartache blues
often birthed on strange paths one did not choose
Father lost in desperation of mental illness's haze
poison taken to end his painful and confusing days

Silently reading from the one great spiritual book
a mourning , soulful repose daughter now took
Seeking solace as she gazed into another realm
a journey on rescue ship , beloved Savior at the helm!

Tyr- 05-26-2014

Written for a contest ... subject was the girl in the picture, reading a book while sitting under a massive tree. She was looking up and away in the picture..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-27-2014, 08:22 PM
Written by: Rudyard Kipling

If..



If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!


This is the poem I love most, admire most and try to live by..
Its author not only a hero, an honorable man but also a poet of renown fame.
I hope you enjoyed reading it.. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-28-2014, 06:23 PM
In The Shadowland

In the Shadowland , where heartache and sorrow reign supreme,
"darkness of pain" marches in the ever gloomy fields
with misery galloping and splashing in the tragic streams
as the blues stir the worries to ever increase the yields!

Sadness sings it's stampeding herd of very desperate woes,
"pangs of loss" dancing in the darkened forests deep
stomping with glee all yet "untouched" fingers and toes
as solace, healing and recovery so sound and deeply sleeps!

In the Shadowland, where loneliness and desperation screams,
"evils of hate" invade and torment the ill hurting mind
shady little , dark spirits slash away restful little dreams
with sharpened knives slicing up any words peaceful or kind!

Tyr, 05-28-2014


This is a rewrite from a poem I wrote back in the 80's.
A bit shorter as rewritten and not an exact replication but
my memory at 60 lags a tad. This was the results from having
gone through a brutal divorce

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-28-2014, 10:25 PM
Undying Love



For you I would drain the ocean blue
fight it's fearsome monsters too
Sail the stormy ship smashing seas
buy the bank giving you the keys

For you I would slap a tiger in it's cage
dance bare naked upon a public stage
Knock mighty mountains down to gravel
across barren deserts swiftly travel

For you I would change my life
cut my own throat with a knife
Dive into a bottomless dark pit
do anything but , but commit!

For you baby, anything but commit!

Tyr-- 05-28-2014

Travelled that road for 7 years as a young man between marraiges...
Greatly fear to committ because it meant opening my heart to
unbearable pain again. It took a miracle for me to overcome
and right on time 21 years later I got blind-sided again.
Live and learn...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-30-2014, 10:29 AM
Written by: Rudyard Kipling

If..
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!


This is the poem I love most, admire most and try to live by..
Its author not only a hero, an honorable man but also a poet of renown fame.
I hope you enjoyed reading it.. -Tyr


http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1146109/The-remarkable-story-Rudyard-Kiplings-If--swashbuckling-renegade-inspired-it.html



This week, Rudyard Kipling's If, that epic evocation of the British virtues of a 'stiff upper lip' and stoicism in the face of adversity, will once again be named as the nation's favourite poem.

The choice will certainly reignite the debate about whether it is, in fact, a great poem - which T. S. Eliot insisted it was not, describing it instead as 'great verse' - or a 'good bad' poem, as Orwell called it.

Indeed, when it was last acclaimed as our favourite 14 years ago, one newspaper dismissed it as 'jingoistic nonsense', while another praised it as 'unforgettable'.

What is not in doubt is that Kipling's four eight-line stanzas of advice to his son, written in 1909, have inspired the nation for a century.







Two of its most resonant lines, 'If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two imposters just the same', stand above the players' entrance to the Centre Court at Wimbledon.

My own father gave a copy to me when I was ten and I carried it around in my wallet for the next 15 years. He felt it was the perfect advice for a son born at the end of the last world war, who could not know what triumphs and disasters lay ahead.

But few of the thousands who have voted for If as their favourite poem (in a poll for radio station Classic FM) know the remarkable story that lies behind the lines published in Kipling's collection of short stories and poems, Rewards And Fairies, in 1910.

For the unlikely truth is that they were composed by the Indian-born Kipling to celebrate the achievements of a man betrayed and imprisoned by the British Government - the Scots-born colonial adventurer Dr Leander Starr Jameson.

Although it may not seem so to the millions who can recite its famous first line ('If you can keep your head when all about you'), If is also a bitter condemnation of the British Government led by Lord Salisbury, and the duplicity of its Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain, for covertly supporting Dr Jameson's raid against the Boers in South Africa's Transvaal in 1896, only to condemn him when the raid failed.

Kipling was a friend of Jameson and was introduced to him, so scholars believe, by another colonial friend and adventurer: Cecil Rhodes, the financier and statesman who extracted a vast fortune from Britain's burgeoning African empire by taking substantial stakes in both diamond and gold mines in southern Africa.

In Kipling's autobiography, Something Of Myself, published in 1937, the year after his death at the age of 70, he acknowledges the inspiration for If in a single reference: 'Among the verses in Rewards was one set called If - they were drawn from Jameson's character, and contained counsels of perfection most easy to give.'

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-30-2014, 06:23 PM
Who Am I



Who am I to question gifts of fate
has not life been kind,
ample food been laid upon my plate?

Did not fate bless me with true love
even righting two wrongs,
given me children to be in awe of?

Will not future continue to give
providing days to joy in,
life to sail in and hope to live?

Should not my soul reach far above
ordinary petty gripes,
that so often tarnish greater love?

Can not I dream of more heavenly bliss
walking in generous treks,
slaying pain from serpent's deadly kiss

Shall not fate continue to bequieve
time to plan more of,
love for family and life before I leave?

Who am I to dare question all of this
as if ignorant of,
great love and treasures I did not miss!

Tyr--- 05-30-2014

Inspired by my being, a blessed man, grateful for life and now humbled
by a long trail of blessings set upon my path..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
05-31-2014, 09:02 PM
Below is the poem entitled Crying River which was written by poet SKAT A .

Read Poems by SKAT A


Crying River (The Untold Ballad)

Undercover waters of rain dashing
The children are cold, no longer splashing
Tragic sobs, epic force of the mountain rain
Beautiful as it may seem, -shallow basin

She cries, a tune,
Mocking the Maple lands, a beautiful tune
Crooked Cornwall, she steams with the moon
Oceanic dreams, monsoon season, she swoon's
Frozen, dead, ice skating rink
Her winds, Pretty Chains O' Lake
Wet and Wild, the Elk drinks from its garden
Water falls from the lids of Jordan
Beautiful as it may seem with open curtain

When the ocean succeeds away from the sea
She's awake during winter's rain torrents and breeze
Lost in the mud's of Bellaire's heartache,
River Blues, icy cold naps, bayous shutting up
Racing rivers crying by the western gutter
Silent, bells chime in the Black Mallard waters
Streams, blowing and drying dew droplets
Little rapid tears, everything spotless
Sugar, Swan waves down by Devils Creek
Listen to the thunder bay rolling deep
Beautiful as it may seem, she weeps

A northern world with streaks of falling rain
Pretty running white hair pane
A weather vane, snow dangles above her domain
Beautiful crying winds
In the Eyes of Michigan

~SKAT~

A brilliant write by my friend Skat A.
I hope you enjoy it as I did..... -------Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-02-2014, 10:17 PM
Father's Day Tribute To My Dad

So many Father's days that you and I can not share
so very much has happened that I needed you there
My first time learning to drive that 'ole truck
my first job , sweating so hard to make a buck!

Strange new feelings after my first real date
somebody to help me when I got her home so late
A shoulder to lean on when I lost my first love
a loving hand to often give me a much needed shove!

Words of wisdom when I faced losing my great job
gentle mercies spoken when I finally broke and sob
Steady influences to curb my very wild young ways
your love to hold so very dear all my earthly days!

The awesome joy of the birth of my first beautiful son
the shared happiness of my house build finally done
Shared journeys of our treasured families happily living
the great blessings you were always so joyously giving!

On this forty-fifth Father's day desperately missing you
I thank God for the fifteen loving years shared , we two
Knowing you are looking down with prideful ,loving heart
two spirits and loves joined together are never truly apart!



Tyr-- 06-01-2014

Forty -five years now and rarely a day goes by that I do not
still greatly miss my Dad. He was truly one of a kind and a
very loving and generous man.. Greatest man I've ever known..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-03-2014, 10:05 AM
That Stand, Red Oaks On The Hill


That stand of old red oak trees on the high hill
centuries flown by and yet they awe men still
I visited often in early breezy, cool morning treks
to calm myself and defeat many of life's little wrecks!

Or on holiday weekends when more time I could enjoy,
sometimes just to leave worries I wish to destroy
In early June after the woods have left winter behind
I march quickly to soak in their majestic kind!

Late Fall when rainbow colors they gifted man and world
bright reds, yellows, browns best canvas ever unfurled
Resting there on such days brought my heart such peace
restored my beaten soul, giving my spirit a new lease!

Winter arrives wrapping their tall arms in shining white
beauty, that magical beauty of their white glow at night
Soothing the mists that sail from their combined might
precious the glow, that glow of joyous healing light
Memories of many cool nights camping in their safe arms
ever in love, deeply in love with their mythical charms!

Tyr--- 06-01-2014

Another rewrite of a write I did over 40 years ago. Inspired
by a large stand of tall old Red Oak trees very near our home
when I was a young child. I remember that beauty and majesty that
sat me in awe and sealed my love of the woods forever!!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-04-2014, 10:05 PM
Earth Shimmers, Life Explodes



Calming clouds float into my dream
fish flop happily onto my grill
Ducks quacking loudly taking to wing
Nature yawns and begins it's daily thrill

Forest fights the coming mist
night owls hourly call
Flowers groan and silently twist
woodpeckers hear it all

Cool streams flow on wet earth
bees gather for all they are worth
Snakes slither into the weeds
earth's beauty serves man's greater needs

Night sky glows like a hot candle
treasures, more than one man can handle
Moon sheds it's glittering skin
life explodes in the heart of men

Earth shimmers dancing in perfect time
poets sing rejoicing so deeply in rhyme...........

Tyr--- 06-02--2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-07-2014, 12:16 PM
A Narrative,


The Mysterious Gift The Old Sailor Built
or The Mysterious Lost Love Quest


The old man dusted himself off and quickly started on his merry way
this his last port was where his desperate soul sought to forever stay
Decades of sailing ships from far flung distant foreign shore to shore
now to settle down, live happily the wealthy large life he always swore
This London town was so very large and busy , seemed just so right
no more dueling spirits , common sense had won the mighty, bitter fight
A huge bag of gems he had hidden in his weathered , trusty old sea bag
great massive and fabulous wealth of which he dare to never ever brag
Tomorrow he would soon seek out his trusted old London banking friend
buy that great huge mansion , so much money he had to now spend!

Years had flown buy and his name and fame had so very greatly grown
so had the dark rumors, gossip of his wealth and all that he owned
He laughed heartedly as the overly outlandish , mysterious tall tales
was he a mercenary, a murdering pirate or lost son of the Prince of Wales
Had he not just bought a fleet of the fastest ocean going merchant ships
hustling back so very many costly wonders in dozens of daring trips
Now his bold plan was just about to bear it's much sought after fruits
a legend he would birth and forever establish his name , fame and roots!

In secret he alone would assemble this very massive, awe inspiring gift
to better serve this great city, the nation, the world, and to so uplift
Much more time was all he was praying for and ever going to now need
such fame was sure to come for accomplishing this truly fantastic deed
Months turned into years as he worked intensely, franticly night and day
never allowing too much rest, sleep or pleasure to ever impede his way
So very close was the great journey coming to it's blessed, joyous end
soon, so very soon, the world would welcome this magnificent Godsend!

At last, Eureka! the massive undertaking is finished, so very well done
all sweat , pain , great costs aside he had now finally, finally won!
Never again would people look down or insultingly call out his name
the nation , the world, all mankind would declare his great fame!
Life would finally mean something and his long lost love would now See!
she had chosen the wrong man and now together they could finally be
Early next morn he flung open the massive double wide solid oak doors
revealing genius, the gift that all the world would now so richly adore!

Just then the moment became far too much for him to ever withstand
the success, the great crusade, the magnificence of his winning plan
First the dizziness and dull roar blasted deeply into his aching head
calamity struck so quickly , he fell knocking over the lamp instead
Flames now raced around his body lying face down and so very small
nobody saw the gift he had moved heaven and earth to secretly install
All burned to ashes, the success that his "lost love" was never to see!
such love, force of will came to naught, that's how wicked Fate can be!

A tale that a grizzly old sailor drunk on whiskey once dared to tell me
finished with the declaration that only He knew what that gift be!
For many hours I bought my new friend drink after drink to cleverly find
the secret , the secret he guarded so well and held deep in his mind
As the tavern was about to close he leaned over to whisper softly to me
mysteries abound, life is hard and devils hide in the deep blue sea
Hardly a day goes by that I don't remember his last words and smile
life is a loud roar on a mighty wave , so ride it in good cheer and style!

Tyr, 06-06-2014

What did he build that we never get to enjoy???
Mysteries do abound...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-09-2014, 12:38 AM
This O' So Fine Night


This fine night joy awaits a coming dawn,
rain wets the world and grass grows wickedly on my front lawn
I feel the hanging dew that so quenches,
all Nature's finest jewels and wets all the city park's benches
A cool breeze sits well upon several scenes,
promises of gifts held magically in new day's shining beams
Treasures abound , earth , trees and flowers,
joy climbs sweetly, by the year , day and fate filled hours
This fine night holds promise of coming delights,
sun's glorious shining rise , it's giving beautiful lights!

Tyr , 06-07-2014

So sweet the great love, life so very sublime
joy spreads here and above, as our fate seals time...-Robert L.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-15-2014, 10:00 AM
A Golden Steed Gallops


A golden steed gallops in my dreams as of late
echoing sounds of my so darkly imagined fate
chastising my wicked deeds of an ill-spent youth
increasing the chasm between bold lies and truth

Flowing trails of gleaming pain fly deep with that race
as precious , sweet memories burn up without a trace
flying away , names and faces of girls I so easily left
broken up like fine crystals falling from a high shelf

An invisible rider brings racing steed to an abrupt halt
as it screams out, yes , you, it's all your damn fault!
why did you not live a sweeter, kinder and gentler life
blame is on you for lost true love , loss of your first wife!

Golden steed stands at a graveyard filled with no headstones
lying about are several sun-bleached and broken white bones
dark wind races in whispering in a very raspy low moan
you are so dead , now you lay cold, dark and so, so alone!

Tyr- 06-13-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-16-2014, 10:29 PM
Old Man Looking Back

Lone figure in the distance looking back from a tall hill
Shades of something familiar that gave me a cold chill

A look , a stand , something strangely calm about the man
Even the sky at his back set the stage like an ordered plan

A trancelike state suddenly seized total control of me!
Then it's voice I could both hear and so clearly see

Look back old man, it voiced with such controlling air
Tingles sped up my back and crackled loudly in my hair

Such mellow and measured speaking with a reassuring calm
Raising both hands he showed a big red star on each palm

These are time marks that send me years forward and back
So many thousands of such journeys, I've even lost track

Stare deeply into one in my left palm , you go back to see
Life you lived , the young , very shy youth you used to be

To return just look intently to the red star on the right
Your mind, body and soul will return in the flash of white

Without any hesitation I did as he told me to act and do
Away in a flash of brilliant white light I quickly flew

Back to the boy fishing lazily under familiar Willow tree
Shocked to see the happy little boy was none other than me!

I then remembered that so lucky day, caught a fish so very big
On a cut cane pole so slender and not much bigger than a twig

Next a flash snatched me to another sweeter place and time
At the local store Mary and I bought two cones for a dime

The bright glow of adoration and baby love on her angel face
Brought a stream of joy for that reflection, time and place

Another flash and light sent me into my young married life
Days of contentment , sweet bliss , love of my first wife

She suddenly walked so gracefuly into that large living room
Glowing like the majestic beauty of fair rose in full bloom

Before I could speak to her , my beloved, away I again flew
A clear voice loudly calling out , return now, I mean you!

Back swiftly to the smiling old man, resting on the tall hill
Then I saw his face clearly, O' what a marvelous great thrill

Looking right at me was my smiling so very much older face
Then in a flash it vanished , gone forever without a trace!

Next I found myself looking again at the very distant hilltop
A voice booms out, look forward young man and do not ever stop!

Tyr, 06-09-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-19-2014, 11:07 AM
Says so much about our society today!!!
A great poet, written long ago.--Tyr

CARL SANDBURG

Carl August Sandburg (January 6, 1878 – July 22, 1967) was an American writer and editor best known for poetry. He won three Pulitzer Prizes, two for his poetry and one for his biography of Abraham Lincoln. H. L. Mencken called Sandburg "indubitably an American in every pulse-beat". Sandburg was born in the three-room cottage at 313 East Third Street in Galesburg, Illinois, to Clara Mathilda (née Anderson) and August Sandberg, both of Swedish ancestry. He adopted the nickname "Charles" or "Charlie" in elementary school, at about the same time, he and his two oldest siblings changed the spelling of their last name to "Sandburg". Sandburg died of natural causes in 1967; his ashes were interred under "Remembrance Rock", a granite boulder located behind his birth house.



EXCERPT FROM THE PEOPLE YES

The people yes

The people will live on.

The learning and blundering people will live on.

They will be tricked and sold and again sold

And go back to the nourishing earth for rootholds,

The people so peculiar in renewal and comeback,

You can't laugh off their capacity to take it.

The mammoth rests between his cyclonic dramas.



The people so often sleepy, weary, enigmatic,

is a vast huddle with many units saying:

"I earn my living.

I make enough to get by

and it takes all my time.

If I had more time

I could do more for myself

and maybe for others.

I could read and study

and talk things over

and find out about things.

It takes time.

I wish I had the time."



The people is a tragic and comic two-face: hero and hoodlum:

phantom and gorilla twisting to moan with a gargoyle mouth:

"They buy me and sell me...it's a game...sometime I'll

break loose..."



Once having marched

Over the margins of animal necessity,

Over the grim line of sheer subsistence

Then man came

To the deeper rituals of his bones,

To the lights lighter than any bones,

To the time for thinking things over,

To the dance, the song, the story,

Or the hours given over to dreaming,

Once having so marched.



Between the finite limitations of the five senses

and the endless yearnings of man for the beyond

the people hold to the humdrum bidding of work and food

while reaching out when it comes their way

for lights beyond the prison of the five senses,

for keepsakes lasting beyond any hunger or death.

This reaching is alive.

The panderers and liars have violated and smutted it.

Yet this reaching is alive yet

for lights and keepsakes.



The people know the salt of the sea

and the strength of the winds

lashing the corners of the earth.

The people take the earth

as a tomb of rest and a cradle of hope.

Who else speaks for the Family of Man?

They are in tune and step

with constellations of universal law.

The people is a polychrome,

a spectrum and a prism

held in a moving monolith,

a console organ of changing themes,

a clavilux of color poems

wherein the sea offers fog

and the fog moves off in rain

and the labrador sunset shortens

to a nocturne of clear stars

serene over the shot spray

of northern lights.



The steel mill sky is alive.

The fire breaks white and zigzag

shot on a gun-metal gloaming.

Man is a long time coming.

Man will yet win.

Brother may yet line up with brother:



This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.

There are men who can't be bought.

The fireborn are at home in fire.

The stars make no noise,

You can't hinder the wind from blowing.

Time is a great teacher.

Who can live without hope?



In the darkness with a great bundle of grief

the people march.

In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps, the people

march:

"Where to? what next?"

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-20-2014, 10:36 AM
One Day's Magic

Gifted was the magic of words given to me
a sword to cut with or defend as I see
Weapon for good or even evil should I choose
in either I may still cry and sadly lose

Yet should I be insightful and choose good
all may not turn out well but O' it should
Cutting and slicing useful acts to defend
those we love , care for and so 'oft befriend

No great righteous spirit has been gifted
a heavy burden given not one gayly lifted
A price , for seeing and then daring to act
a duty to truth and a crusade based upon facts

One day's magic seems so great a fantastic gift
that is until it's true burden cuts in so swift!

Tyr , 06-20-2014.

written for Freddie's contest, One Day's Magic.
A truly great idea for a contest....

A burden that would crush any person having it,
for man alone can never ever use such power. It would
corrupt his soul and lead to his very destruction IMHO.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-26-2014, 08:52 PM
Flowers of the Curious Mind

Sent were flowers of the curious mind
following echoes of Cantu's muse
No curses , words grossly unkind
insults hidden deeply in clever ruse!

Dare not stab sweet music of mortal man
with deeds sordidly played tho' sweet
Transgress not Nature's surviving plan
with arrogant contempt born of defeat!

Embrace life's melody as a lost friend
dancing within it's tune so fine
Live, live gloriously until life's end
drink, drink richly of it's finest wine!

Tyr, aka Robert Lindley

This and 21 of my other poems have placed in the win column in the contests entered in so far.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-26-2014, 11:41 PM
Wrote this tonight for a contest.

A Mountain Step


Slowly came the morning's sharp edge
staggering with a foot off the ledge
high breeze tempts the longing fate
fed by gusts of such ravenous hate

Looking down shifts the wishful step
perhaps a dream and one merely slept
on a mountain so very high and serene
seeing death unfold in a horrid dream

As the shadows raced over the rocks
life jumped up and gave waking knocks
cold fear soon gained the upper hand
sanity returned to the heart of man

Sun peeked around the soft white clouds
Village below rang out with noisy crowds

Robert J. Lindley, 06-26-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-28-2014, 06:33 PM
Give Thanks and Stand Firm

Should your high hopes be so cruelly lost
smashed so savagely by that very fickle fate
Do not give up your precious life to be tossed
upon heaps and dark mounds of festering hate

When your heart feels the thrust of such shame
steel your resolve to a defiant, heroic stand
Defend life and the honor of your family name
with every step taken upon this earthy land

If your spirit gets low think of a mountain tall
send your soul to rest upon it's highest peak
Ignore the slurs and taunts of those so very small
consider the evil for which they so proudly speak

In great triumph soon you will so richly turn
as that wicked vermin flee back to their master
Consider now the reward in which they will burn
thanking God's grace you avoided such a disaster

Should your high hopes so faithfuly be restored
give eternal blessed thanks to our sweet Lord!

Robert J. Lindley 06-28-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-29-2014, 12:51 AM
Uplifting

A warm smile always beats a cold hard frown
gather in that joy bring sweetness on down
Give a positive thought to your worries and cares
imagine billion dollar company you have shares

When distress rears it's massively ugly head
pull those silk covers up and sleep late in bed!
Wake at noon to lay about in comfort all day
imagine a boom and your stock sweetly pays

A warm smile always beats the chill of despair
be a million dollar baby without a single care
Travel the world over in your huge new yacht
relishing in the massive, massive wealth you got

A frown spoils the heart and slashes at love
keep your soul bright and your spirit soaring above!

Robert Lindley 06/28/2014

Sponsor, Elly Wouterse
Encore - anonymous positive , uplifting new sonnet
1 original, for this contest, new written poem about something
beautiful.....
Only the poetry form , sonnet, is acceptable.
Date.
No names

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
06-29-2014, 09:17 AM
A new sonnet, one that proves Karma bites.. Taken from this man's past life...

Lies And Sad Eyes

Your huge eyes appear bright, blue and so sad
why after all the those rich men you have had?
There was that guy that owned a jewelry store
he gave you so much yet you stole so much more!

There was the dude that owned nine car lots
he figured you out after I showed your spots
Other cat's parents left him massive wealth
you took all he had and ruined his health!

Your big eyes now appear swollen and so very red
Told you I'd endure and torment your silly head
Now you cry and moan for riches you think your due
Life is about family and love yet you haven't a clue!

I gave my all and you refused to ever learn to love
Karma bites you and rewards me blessings from above!

Robert Lindley, 06 -29-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-03-2014, 08:25 AM
The Rare Moment


Sitting here enjoying the hard cascading rain
streams pouring down the very clear window pane

Thoughts streaming around the light in my head
still groggy a bit from a late rise from my bed

Awaiting the hot coffee that will singe my brain
like that sweet victory over hurt, a precious pain

Sitting here enjoying this most precious morn
so very happily pleased my wonderful son was born!

Robert J. Lindley, 06-28-2014

Don't you just love it when life says, " hey life is good,
enjoy your gifts and give thanks" ?
When that happens so often we just soak in the moment but
this time I interrupted mine to offer a short write....

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-03-2014, 08:34 AM
Musings , Wishes and Life


The Fire burneth while our world turneth
yet the rose still holds it's red bloom

The mighty Oaks stand majestic and tall
while man's glory hardly rates a call

The cold Wind bloweth so surely we know
angels bleach the whiteness in the snow

The Forest lives to give beauty and art
wildlife and earthly souls stand far apart

The Sky singeth and the sweet earth reflects
Natures beauty opposite man's many defects

The Soul endures and stays the greatest test
that prove kindness and love serve us best

Robert J. Lindley, 06-26-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-04-2014, 10:38 AM
So far at my new Poetry site these are my results for 9 weeks.
As of now I have 29 top ten wins out of 36 contests completed.
9 first place wins, 7 second place wins, 4 third place wins,
3 fourth place wins, 3 sixth place wins, 1 nineth place win
and 2 tenth place wins.
Of the 7 entries that did not place in the top ten winners category
I received 5 honorable mentions..
Competition there is very tough because every contest
that I've entered had 3 or 4 published poets entered (several that had
more than one poetry book published) and
a few had contests had more than that.
So it appears I do have some small measure of talent in this endeavor.
I now have had published online two of my poems.
At these sites that sought me out....

Check out the beautiful artwork that Sheri at poetryandbeyond.net created just for the featured poem!

http://whispersinthewind333.blogspot.com/2014/06/great-lone-tree-so-beautiful-by-robert.html#comment-form

http://www.poetryandbeyond.net/2014/06/27/dew-drops-and-you-by-robert-j-lindley/

This is my record at my home site , PoetrySoup.com

Total Community Points: 21445

# Poems Posted 220
# Unique Comments Made * 995
# Blog Comments Made 52
# Member Contest Entered 53
# Top 10 Finishes in 36 contests judged 29
# Times You Are a Fav Poet 10
# Blog Posts 0
# Contest Sponsored 0

We cache this page, so you may not see the points updated for a
few hours or longer. However, you should see the updates by the
next day.

Drummond
07-04-2014, 02:01 PM
So far at my new Poetry site these are my results for 9 weeks.
As of now I have 29 top ten wins out of 36 contests completed.
9 first place wins, 7 second place wins, 4 third place wins,
3 fourth place wins, 3 sixth place wins, 1 nineth place win
and 2 tenth place wins.
Of the 7 entries that did not place in the top ten winners category
I received 5 honorable mentions..
Competition there is very tough because every contest
that I've entered had 3 or 4 published poets entered (several that had
more than one poetry book published) and
a few had contests had more than that.
So it appears I do have some small measure of talent in this endeavor.
I now have had published online two of my poems.
At these sites that sought me out....

Check out the beautiful artwork that Sheri at poetryandbeyond.net created just for the featured poem!

http://whispersinthewind333.blogspot.com/2014/06/great-lone-tree-so-beautiful-by-robert.html#comment-form

http://www.poetryandbeyond.net/2014/06/27/dew-drops-and-you-by-robert-j-lindley/

This is my record at my home site , PoetrySoup.com

Total Community Points: 21445

# Poems Posted 220
# Unique Comments Made * 995
# Blog Comments Made 52
# Member Contest Entered 53
# Top 10 Finishes in 36 contests judged 29
# Times You Are a Fav Poet 10
# Blog Posts 0
# Contest Sponsored 0

We cache this page, so you may not see the points updated for a
few hours or longer. However, you should see the updates by the
next day.:clap::clap::clap::clap:

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-13-2014, 12:21 PM
A Soldier Remembers


In this evil world a few old men do still truly tell
the battles, gory losses and places their buddies fell
Painting the scenes of such sad and terrible fates
adding in the bloody details , names and sad dates

The old soldiers that lived on to love yet again
rarely ever forget the passing of cherished friend
So often said with a choked chuckle and hearty laugh
citing some other funny deed or terrible little gaffe
To highlight the humanity of that loved and departed soul
a remembrance, a statement so others may yet know

The life and times of a "beloved brother" and "comrade"
that did his very best and gave all he ever had!
To stand his brothers and defend his beloved nation
preserve freedom and gift life to a future generation!

Robert J. Lindley 07-13-2014

Dedicated to ALL soldiers and ALL heroes , fallen
and living!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-13-2014, 06:11 PM
I got busy and wrote another one today.
I have plans for both as competition pieces.-Tyr
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Soul's Fight

The soul faces what the stoutest heart dares not to speak
dark spirits that make our knees wobble and voices squeak
Battering rams plunging in rhythm against castle's gate
shadow voices accusing and promising such a ghastly fate!

As the last rays of Sun's golden light creep slowly away
the invisible servants of the Dark Lord arise to play
With each darkening hour so very much stronger they grow
sharpening claws, teeth and screeching everywhere they go!

When the sound of the house clock striking at midnight
serves to cheer them on to ever greater songs of fright
Draw your courage blade and cut deeply into that horde
make them feel the pain and slash of truth's best sword!

Cut out the great fear they carry around to use to seed
the horrors and scary thoughts sent to make you plead
Loudly announce as you send their defeated asses to hell
this is courage and truth ringing freedom's liberty bell!

Robert J. Lindley 07-13-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-14-2014, 07:20 PM
About To Hang..

A brave warrior had fought with might
sent many defeated to the gates of Hell
Far outnumbered had lost a great fight
dragged away from the bloody spot he fell!

Imprison in enemy land he stood defiant
refusing all pleas that he join that band
In true honor he refused to be compliant
cursing all while shaking his one free hand!

Before his captors bound he stood in chains
he cursed all his enemies with deepest rage
His heart was aching not from bleeding pains
rather more from lost liberties of a past age!

Bound to a stout and very massive old tree
lost, imprisoned and without future hope
Choosing defiant curses rather than broken plea
awaiting the large crowd and a hanging rope!

No tears , for he a warrior was never afraid
of Hell's intensely darkened inviting gaze
Life spent , a short future therein laid
past glories now just a distant, murky haze!

Asked are you afraid of what now awaits
he angrily spat upon the hardened ground
I'll see you all at Hell's first ironclad gate
where anguished screams make not a sound!

Robert J. Lindley

Rewritten, 07-14-2014
I recalled more of this poem written so many decades ago.
I now have added in the missing parts...
Rewritten for a contest...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-17-2014, 12:15 AM
Baby's Eyes Shine

Baby's sweet sky glows glitteringly blue.
Beautiful mirrors reflect in her eyes!
Such grace trumps any rainbow that may shine.

That newly born smile casts a rainbow shine,
reflection in those soft crystal clear eyes
decorates her hair and ribbon so blue!

Softest twinkles in her dazzling sweet eyes,
radiates heavenly love that casts shine
upon her birthday dress that is so blue!

Love basks softly as those great blue eyes shine!

Robert J. Lindley , 07/ 15/ 2014

craig cornish
Contest Name , Tritina Challenge
1 original, poem on the theme of .............A Baby
Write a new poem about a newborn and take it where you
creatively will impress me

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-21-2014, 11:06 AM
Wade the Shallows


Wade the shallows, swim not the deep,
loss of time makes the old man weep.
Imagine castles, thundered in glory prime
fleeing shadows racing about in time!

Comfort of the known sees the dream,
whistles the kettle in heated steam.
A vow, a promising oath made in sin
darkened shadows await in the heart of men!

Cleave to the willows along the bank,
sand on the beach, rocks to thank
Look back at a wild path solemnly made
rejoice in the hand so well played!

Walk a path that gives solace and high spirit.
Ring that bell, do not worry if failing to hear it!

Robert J. Lindley, 07-20-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-21-2014, 10:06 PM
A Wonderful Day Afishin'


A wonderful day fishing, frying fish in the pan
logs sweetly burning, smokey smells of tasty delight
Lake was near perfect , a pond in God's opened hand
feast soon to start a beautiful camping night!

That monster fish that easily broke your rod tip
set a memory to be recalled decades from now
As recollections in old age our minds eagerly dip
mental pictures the where , when , why and how!

This night shall hold us in it's very deep embrace
join me in a toast to a future so fine and sweet
Singing of happiness , joy and your smiling face
memories, good times, wine and freshly cooked meat!

A wonderful day fishing, so very hard to beat
Nature's offering, magnificent trout to eat!

June -09- 1978
Robert J. Lindley

I wrote this decades ago. My fishing partner was a fine
lady that I almost married! Sadly she passed away back in
May of 2005... She had married and had a grown daughter
in college. I hadn't had contact with her in well over
22 years. Still it was a sad day for me upon
learning of her death...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-26-2014, 01:48 PM
A Day in the Sun

A good thought, a day in the sun,
such that allows joy to freely run,
**** the day blasts out memories fair.
**** Gentle breezes cruising bright air
**** as life sings on without a care.
**** A stir upon the lake down there,
**** two ducks dancing, O' what a pair
**** their art they very freely share.
**** Of our intrusion ducks so unaware
**** we watching silently not to scare.
Sweetest memories of family having fun
a fantastic break from life on the run!

Robert J. Lindley , 07-26-2014

Contest entry. Several requirements met , new poetry form ..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-28-2014, 11:55 PM
In The Clouds

A sweet morning is the Sun peeking, peeking
the clouds swaying , playing but not leaking
A cool breeze birthed by clouds and their fruits
just as the apple comes from tree and its roots

A great day is under a tree watching the clouds
thinking of earth and the mysteries it shrouds
A great storm brewing silently so very far away
God and Nature dancing in a life renewing play

A fine night is often those cloudless skies
glittering stars striking the awestruck eyes
The moon hides behind a cloud in a blanket
dares to peep around and not even thank it

Clouds are ships bringing such precious rain
Beautiful oceans above bleeding again and again

Robert J. Lindley 07/28/2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-29-2014, 10:36 PM
A poem by a great and noted Poet.



Hard Luck

By Edgar Albert Guest


Ain’t no use as I can see

In sittin’ underneath a tree

An’ growlin’ that your luck is bad,

An’ that your life is extry sad;

Your life ain’t sadder than your neighbor’s

Nor any harder are your labors;

It rains on him the same as you,

An’ he has work he hates to do;

An’ he gits tired an’ he gits cross,

An’ he has trouble with the boss;

You take his whole life, through an’ through,

Why, he’s no better off than you.


If whinin’ brushed the clouds away

I wouldn’t have a word to say;

If it made good friends out o’ foes

I’d whine a bit, too, I suppose;

But when I look around an’ see

A lot o’ men resemblin’ me,

An’ see ’em sad, an’ see ’em gay

With work t’ do most every day,

Some full o’ fun, some bent with care,

Some havin’ troubles hard to bear,

I reckon, as I count my woes,

They’re ’bout what everybody knows.


The day I find a man who’ll say

He’s never known a rainy day,

Who’ll raise his right hand up an’ swear

In forty years he’s had no care,

Has never had a single blow,

An’ never known one touch o’ woe,

Has never seen a loved one die,

Has never wept or heaved a sigh,

Has never had a plan go wrong,

But alas laughed his way along;

Then I’ll sit down an’ start to whine

That all the hard luck here is mine.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-30-2014, 11:07 PM
We Old Poets Love Rhyme



We old poets love a sweet and fine rhyme
we made our phone calls with just a dime
Movie for two , drinks, change from a dollar
we drank great hard liquor to hoop and holler!

Our gals we first chased then went a courtin'
no hanky panky and very little cavortin'
A night out was to a movie theater or play
never late could a very good gal ever stay!

We old poets still love a sweet and fine rose
as long as it rhymes almost anything goes
Once my gal had such bright and pretty shoes
she gave me a treasure that I hadn't any clues!

R. J. LINDLEY, 07-30-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
07-31-2014, 01:25 AM
Hear that Whisper?


That faint whisper one can almost hear at the break of day
is the angels fluttering dragging the last of
the stubborn intense pains of darkness away!

That roar one hears as the damn gates loudly crank to
is dark shadows locking in the miseries inside you!

That wailing cry you hear just before sweet morn's light
is your heart screaming for iron chains to break open
the bindings cutting your throat all the evil night!

That sad remorse lumping up in your burning hot throat
is the dregs of sorrows that cast in the deep blues
walking on fire rocks naked and without shoes!

Never hear that whisper and feel so proud and relieved
is that your fantasy that gives you a moments rest
or hell breakin' loose in a soul forever aggrieved!

Robert J. Lindley 07-30-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-04-2014, 12:22 AM
Give Me Simple, That Will Do


How does one do this, so "very deep"
can not do it while you are asleep
I write for joy , to be understood
I'd do "very deep' if only I ever could

This old man loves to write in rhyme
make it understood, sho' do save time
My wife speaks in high falootin' words
I say , darling sing that to the birds

Now do not think me shallow or slow
this old dog dun' been long in the know
I once sat around spitting out tha' deep
what interests me is readers I kan' keep

I like deep as often as a prostate exam
give me just so simple, just like I am

Robert J. Lindley, 08-03-2014

Ok using poetic license here my friends.
I admire fine poetry in all forms and ways.
The message,spirit, heart and soul reign
supreme in my book. I just like my poetry
easier to be understood. When I see very
deep writes I marvel if they are
intentionally written with a deep meaning
not if it is thought deep because it is so very
hard to understand even for a knowledgable
poet.
Add in a bit of humor and here we are.
No harm , no foul intended.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-05-2014, 11:02 PM
Lovers In Epic Romance


What lies brilliant with the rising Sun
softly golden before the bright advance
That which can not be heartlessly undone
the glow of lovers lost in epic romance

The flow of one forever loving breeze
waves of rippling urges that hold all
Fruited delicious offering of love trees
love gifts singing words that enthrall

Soon the ardor rises to birth a feast
as the hot ripples heat united Souls
Rising Sun casts paradise in the east
here and now unites with future goals

At the base of an eternal loving tree
lies trust in a softened resting repose
A love grabbed by two hearts so free
following happiness wherever it goes

Robert J. Lindley, 08-05-2014

Written for a competition..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-07-2014, 07:51 PM
Pierce The Gloom


Pierce the gloom under purple sails
cold the rain that forever falls
False is the prophet that ever tells
great honor rang true in these halls

Hide ye behind golden false banners
dark spirits dwelling in your band
Deceit lies silkened in false manners
evil the Crown that rules this land

Purple King steals your life's bread
as hope eludes your soul's plight
Blows descend upon your bowed head
you, that forever declines to fight

Royal colors your minds enthrall
as evil lies in your shallow beds
Dark spirits birth wicked flowers
where evil reigns in crying hours

R. LINDLEY
11/18/1976

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-08-2014, 12:25 AM
Crowd Loves Metaphors


We the fools that poison our own well
stupidly thinking that truth does sell
Only to soon find out our great folly
the crowd wants sh!t to be jolly

Watching as sh!T runs so very deep
oozes into their heads as they sleep
A few flowery words, metaphor or two
good God, folks do get a damn clue

Toss in a few words to stir mystique
nothing great , nothing at all unique
Toss in a few repeated little tears
sit back, wait for the shallow cheers

We fools think to try for so much more
The crowd cries more for words that stupidly bore

Robert J. Lindley, 08/07/2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-08-2014, 11:17 AM
My current results at my Poetry site.
For my being there only 9 weeks now this record
is an extremely good one.
Yes, I have already ruffled a great many feathers there!
I would not be the lovable me had I not done so! lol


# Poems Posted 303

# Unique Comments Made 1652*

# Blog Comments Made 92

# Member Contests Entered 82

# Top 10 Finishes 47

# Contests judged /completed 62

# Times You Are a Fav Poet 16

# Your poems favored by other poets 49

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-10-2014, 09:40 AM
Misjudging Others


The garbage man removes your trash
yet you refuse to give him more cash
The barber cuts your flowing locks
you that smell of rancid stinking socks

The roofer stops those pesky leaks
you think he and crew are just freaks
The painter paints your house anew
later you try to not pay him his due

The plumber you can see is overpaid
you'd love to cut him with a blade
The preacher seeks to save your soul
you think he has a heart of coal

You that think others are so weak
So hate when you arrogantly speak

Robert J. Lindley, 08-09-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-10-2014, 07:21 PM
A Rainbow Sings


Prismatic rainbow graces sky many ways
with brilliant hues of multicolored rays
picturesque goniochromism sings to decorate
a ketch with Tyrian purple sails out late

Sepia hue tinges this kaleidoscopic scene
monolexemic shades threaten to richly preen
majestic phenomena seen in sky embraces
mists, vanishing clouds and aurorae traces

A Rayleigh Scattering sets rainbow apart
miracle that sends opalescence to impart
this sky mingling multitude of colors now
as red, orange, purple and yellow take bow

Interwoven within this prismatic awe inspiring view
The hopes and dreams of gentle poets like me and you!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-10-2014

Wrote one for the snobs that think I write simple poems because
I can not right in the flowery manner(old celebrated style). I once wrote hundreds like this before I discovered that poetry is more about the Message. the Heart, the Gift, than the Imagery. And the MESSAGE NEEDS TO BE UNDERSTOOD BY MORE PEOPLE NOT LESS..
The elitist poetry snobs think writing for the common man is beneath their (imagined) greatness.
A shallow world,
for shallow tools that,
live in shallow graves,
just made for petty, shallow fools! lol

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-12-2014, 10:44 PM
Laughing Man, Pain Hidden


A laughing man hid well his pain
our approval he sought to gain
A hope that admiration would pay
force the inner demon far away

Can any judge another man's soul
we can only guess but never know
The mental pains cut ever so deep
hammers preventing needed sleep

No plea, request or loud outcry
no note explaining the why
Answer left to be only a guess
misery now gone, soul at rest

A laughing man hid his pain
so sad but will happen again

Robert J. Lindley , 08-12-2014

note: Tribute to Robin Williams.
A very sad way to go out for a man that gave so
much joy and laughter to others!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-17-2014, 12:22 AM
Spear Well Used and Swollen

So green the grass on hidden hill
open vista views another thrill
Naked the splendor shone then rose
swift the shock when love chose

Romance set the fair morning scene
she a tramp yet once was a queen
Her knight in love with a saint
she felt his spear, grew so faint

A romp in grass so wet and green
eyes shut her nakedness unseen
Taste of his skin from armor freed
joyous placement of heavenly seed

Fair lady's heart yet to be stolen
Knight's spear well used and swollen

R. Lindley, 1979

note:
A bawdy little write from back in 1979.
Not signed so I haven't a clue if it is
a finished or unfinished piece. I keep finding old stuff I wrote
back in late 70's in this large box of old records.
This one was written on a small note pad along with first three
lines starting another poem on the subject --black crows.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-17-2014, 11:11 AM
The River Flows

The river flows so endlessly
Replenishing the sea
With all the rain that falls to Earth
It’s just the way she be
And nothing halts her in her journey
She knows where she must go
No matter what, no matter when
To the ocean she will flow.

Oh yes she’ll travel on her way
Opposing all in sight
She never struggles to get there
She never uses might
She just goes with gravity
Lets him take her in his stride
Over rocks and, down the waterfalls
Sometimes she’s narrow, sometimes wide.

If we could flow just like this river
Our lives would be so sweet
We’d let life take us in her flow
And everything we’d meet
So softly and so easily
Till we get where we must go
You see, this be the way we’re made
To move within the flow.

28 June 2014 @ 1340hrs.
By - Peter Duggan

This poet is my great friend that lives in Australia.
He is 77 years old and a Vietnam War veteran , that dearly hates war now. A prolific poet he writes on many subjects.
Writes in an easy , smooth flowing style. Hope you enjoy this one...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-17-2014, 11:31 AM
Nine Inch Nails, Brain Pain

I stopped waiting on earthy fruit
empty guns that sing but not shoot
Nine inch nails driven into my brain
snails crawling in bloody, bloody rain

I stopped asking for sweetened lies
sickness baked into hollow pies
Cuts embraced to feel the sweet pain
stick it in but make it very plain

I stopped begging for more misery
you that laughed at my mercy plea
Seven inch blades twisted to bleed
answers given to a most futile plea

I stopped begging so very damn long ago
You that lie to feed your deceitful show

R.J. Lindley
02, 19, 1977

Note: This write is from a very bad time in my young life .
I was 23 years old when I wrote this one. Full of
"piss and vinegar" and cut so very deeply by a woman that
I loved..
Lost love, a bitter /sweet memory..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-19-2014, 11:25 PM
A Child's Imagination


The sky burst into a solid glow
Clouds danced, raced to and fro
A castle next appeared up there
At the far end of a golden stair

Trumpets blasted out a shout
stars sparkled brightly about
Voices sang a very sweet song
Angels sang right on along

Ground, grass and trees shook
Water danced in a fairies brook
Sprites flew very far overhead
Lights spun the little boy's head

Asked another story soon to be read
As Dad tucked him into his little bed!

Robert J. Lindley 08-19-2014

Inspired by a poem I wrote long ago and
read to my son last night. I wrote this
about 25 minutes after midnight last night..

It is dedicated to my 7 year old son, Justin,
the joy of my life!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-19-2014, 11:54 PM
Where Frozen Embers Still Burn

Grace holds the fire of past bliss
spiritual love so dearly do I miss
Family greatly missed now passed on
Fire of Love once burned so strong

Still smoldering in my yearning heart
embers burning still from the start
Bright orange the early mourning flame
gusts of blazing heat anything but tame

A wind blasts deep into my heart's glow
blue flames burst forth, grow n' grow
The roar of fire leaps out of bound
into sweet memories laying all around

Visitors walk in from crackling fires
touching my heart,love it so inspires
Dad holds me again ever so firm and tight
Grandad sings to my soul sweetly all night

Embers are now crackling in a mighty roar
Happiness spreads into soul's open door
Baby brother stands to hold my hand
Shouts love, love you, again and again

My mind knows they all are passed on
yet here they are so lovingly shown
All from a burning ember deep in my soul
Mighty flames burns our love into a whole

08-19-2014, Robert J. Lindley

Note: "mourning" flame , is not a typo.

Sponsor- Gail Angel Doyle
Contest Name, Where Frozen Embers Still Burn

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-21-2014, 01:41 AM
Stay The Hand


Send not the word reapers for me
I the lover of every lovely tree
Stay the hand of a fickle fate
I the saddest victim as of late

Erase the ravages of father time
I the fool that writes in rhyme
Stay the cut that seeks to slay
I the artist writing no damn play

Slice not the heart resting in me
I the clown so desperate to flee
Stay the hit that would so crush
I the writer always in a rush

Send not blades to slice up my words
As I tend them into my little herds!

Robert J. Lindley 08-21-2014

note: Stayed up late to crank one out.
Drank a very cold brew . This is what I threw.
Just took my last med, time to hit tha' old bed...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-21-2014, 10:57 AM
A great day to post this poem!--Tyr

Hell Ain't Half Full Yet!


Dark deeds done in dead of night
Eventually, all come to the Light
Watch your step, hedge your bet
Careful, Hell ain't half full yet!

Set your excuses completely aside
Evil takes you on a deadly ride
Think, grab all that you can get
Careful, Hell ain't half full yet!

Badly mistreat an innocent child
Think, such is nothing but mild
Hoss, that desert just ain't wet
Careful, Hell ain't half full yet!

Force a woman to give when she won't
Think, you skate but Hoss, you don't
You'll face a judge you have not met
Careful , Hell ain't half full yet!

Steal from others to satisfy greed
Destroy all around like a nasty weed
Think, you get by, your life all set
Careful, Hell ain't half full yet!

You murder, take any innocent life
Spread misery, evil seeds of strife
Think, no damn time for any regret
Careful, Hell ain't half full yet!

If you murder, steal, lie or rape
Think, a path exists for your escape
A fool's errand , a darkened mindset
Careful, Hell ain't half full yet!

Robert J. Lindley

Note : A word to the wise...
Do a man wrong, soon you may be long gone!
Careful Hell, ain't half full yet.
I've lived a life of delivering justice to sick twisted evil people. Most of them were real badasses that ever so richly deserved what they got from me.
Paid a very dear price for having done so.
Still willing to pay that price as my honor demands it.
A man is his honor not his wealth, arrogance, delusions or false image..
Never in history has wealth bought 1.honor 2. integrity or 3. decency!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-22-2014, 09:45 AM
A Home Brew Fiasco

My lips were parched, my tongue on fire
another shot I did so very much desire
Thank my pappy for this kicking home brew
O' Lord, how to make it, if only I knew!

Sun was about set into its rosy red glow
three hills over was square dance and show
I set me a mighty happy and quickened pace
so very eager to get to that dancing place!

I hear that fast fiddle singing from afar
stop to drink last liquor from my fruit jar
Another burn that went down mighty fine
whiskey my favorite, never cottoned to wine!

One more high hill to just climb on past
swirling head tells my legs to please last
Sun has set and darkness so rapidly falls
music rings louder its beckoning calls!

Another hundred steps and I'll be there
singing, dancing and pretty gals everywhere
Ease myself up against this restful oak tree
surely a rest will be so very good for me!

Eyes heavy and dark clouds coming on down
now is no time to worry, no time to frown
Darkness races into this tired old brain
no worries, rest easy avoid all the strain!

Morning sunlights breaks between the trees
O' my, pray I didn't sleep all night please
Suddenly I hear the morning call of a dove
I missed out on last night's dance and love!

My lips were parched, my tongue on fire
another shot I did so very much desire
Thank my pappy for that kicking home brew
O' Lord, how to make it, if only I knew!

Robert J. Lindley , 08-21-2014

Inspired by a story my uncle told me back in
1965. How grandfather once made moonshine and
missed out on his first date with grandmother.
Luckily she was a forgiving woman and grandfather
a very handsome man or else they'd never married
and I would not be here to sling tha' ink!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-25-2014, 10:37 AM
The Lady Suffers


What of the slow falling dew
rain that sets a shiver upon you
A sky that dances to mock anew
goodness and gentleness tis your due!

Can earth dare to reproach
promises of your sweet approach
A maiden of your innocent ways
sending joy into glorious summer days!

What of the wind that blows
away sacred words that you compose
Sets to wickedly tangle you hair
disrupt loving mood of my lady so fair!

Nay, Nature tis careless and so very cruel
made up of harsh acts that so rashly rule!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-24-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-25-2014, 10:49 AM
A Demon Confesses


I shun the light and cast the stone,
rot the meat and ravenously eat the bone
Cut my way deep into every man that falls,
eat my thrills as my victim mercy calls!

Shadows, my cloaks worn with pride,
once entered I rot the mind as I ride
Pain and agony my twin pets serve so well,
my purpose, send 'em all right to Hell!

Long claws my daggers I do so shine,
accept my gifts, your soul then is mine
Dark laughter is my sweet joy let loose,
long you wail, your head in my noose!

I too, serve my dark master ever so well
loyal demon, freed from bowels of Hell!

Robert Lindley,
no date- Edited today, shortened to a sonnet,
written so very long ago!

Note:
A taste of dark,
demons a reality so very stark,
I write safely within this brilliant light
spewing truth out to win another great fight..-08/24/2014

red state
08-25-2014, 10:49 AM
A Home Brew Fiasco

My lips were parched, my tongue on fire
another shot I did so very much desire
Thank my pappy for this kicking home brew
O' Lord, how to make it, if only I knew!

Sun was about set into its rosy red glow
three hills over was square dance and show
I set me a mighty happy and quickened pace
so very eager to get to that dancing place!

I hear that fast fiddle singing from afar
stop to drink last liquor from my fruit jar
Another burn that went down mighty fine
whiskey my favorite, never cottoned to wine!

One more high hill to just climb on past
swirling head tells my legs to please last
Sun has set and darkness so rapidly falls
music rings louder its beckoning calls!

Another hundred steps and I'll be there
singing, dancing and pretty gals everywhere
Ease myself up against this restful oak tree
surely a rest will be so very good for me!

Eyes heavy and dark clouds coming on down
now is no time to worry, no time to frown
Darkness races into this tired old brain
no worries, rest easy avoid all the strain!

Morning sunlights breaks between the trees
O' my, pray I didn't sleep all night please
Suddenly I hear the morning call of a dove
I missed out on last night's dance and love!

My lips were parched, my tongue on fire
another shot I did so very much desire
Thank my pappy for that kicking home brew
O' Lord, how to make it, if only I knew!

Robert J. Lindley , 08-21-2014

Inspired by a story my uncle told me back in
1965. How grandfather once made moonshine and
missed out on his first date with grandmother.
Luckily she was a forgiving woman and grandfather
a very handsome man or else they'd never married
and I would not be here to sling tha' ink!


Now that is a poem I can sink my teeth into!!! Great job there Tyr! I was here sitting with the Mrs. drinking my coffee.....reminiscing about my wilder days and how thankful I am that my to-be grandma of my grandchildren gave me many chances and stuck by me through thick and thin. I can truly relate to every aspect of that poem (right down to preferring corn squeezin' to wine.....unless it is my own home-made wine). HA!!!

Keep 'em coming, ole buddy.....we'r out here readin' (even tho you may not know it).

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-26-2014, 10:09 AM
Now that is a poem I can sink my teeth into!!! Great job there Tyr! I was here sitting with the Mrs. drinking my coffee.....reminiscing about my wilder days and how thankful I am that my to-be grandma of my grandchildren gave me many chances and stuck by me through thick and thin. I can truly relate to every aspect of that poem (right down to preferring corn squeezin' to wine.....unless it is my own home-made wine). HA!!!

Keep 'em coming, ole buddy.....we'r out here readin' (even tho you may not know it).

Thank you my good friend..
I write to amuse myself and post such in the hopes it entertains others and may possibly even help to see and know what big mistakes other people(like me) can and do often make in life. Especially in their lives as young adults full of piss and vinegar! :laugh::laugh::laugh:-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-26-2014, 10:16 AM
My Muse, I So Abuse


My muse cries out, please write this way
I replied laughing, that will be the day
She stormed off in a very indignant huff
I shouted at her, damn ain't that tough?

Never fear, she always runs as she returns
she my heart loves, as my mind she burns
I, that often sit on a cold bed of stones
She, poetic judge that often breaks bones!

Dead of night she cuddles up to me near
utters words, sweet nothings and cold fear
I inquire, but my heart you love so dear
She shouts, that was folly from last year!

My muse and I play wickedly cat and mouse
She may be the roof but I am the House!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-26- 2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-28-2014, 08:13 PM
Two sonnets written yesterday, both are sound.
Sonnet , 14 lines of verse and each line may contain
9 to 11 syllables..



A Rage Against The Storm

Alas! against the storm I did bellow,
you bloweth upon the wrong fellow
My soul you have now so sorely tried
fear, your gift has now so surely died!

Nature feeds your evil blowing wrath,
I curse your daring this upon my path
Heaven's powers ignore your wicked deeds
you the rot that eats away joy's seeds!

Hark! all the destruction you have wrought,
fruits of sins that man surely has bought
Yet, I defy your right to so hammer me
I, the strongest root of my family tree!

Rage on , tear out the withered and the old
This man defies you with a heart very bold!

Robert J. Lindley 08-27-2014

Syllables Per Line: 10 9 9 9 0 9 10 10 9 0 9 9 11 11 0 10 11
Total # Syllables: 136
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 108




---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Morning Sun Speaks


Vainly, I smile at a fine morning sun
ponder day's tasks waiting to be done
Embrace and savor this very sweet morn
enjoy life, that is why we were first born

Sparrow drinking at my bird fountain
clouds soaring into another mountain
I see the carefree bird fly far away
consider the high price I must pay

Happily my soul spoke to the sun
life races onward as I freely run
My toils are but tokens to be spent
spirit lives and our love pays no rent

The morn sun spoke yet again to me
live to love and grab life yet to be!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-27-2014

Syllables Per Line: 10 9 10 10 0 9 10 10 9 0 9 10 9 9 0 9 9
Total # Syllables: 145
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: 2014 <-- Syllables counted programmatically for these words.
Total # Words: 112

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
08-31-2014, 10:46 PM
Troy, The Defeat, Odysseus Punishment

Apollo, the archer-god, was quite unfair
Slew Eurytus for a vain archery boast
Mortal lives he had so very little care
Sending Greek ships sailing to the coast

Helen of Sparta, beauty beyond compare
face that launched a thousand ships
She of perfect face , body and hair
Paris stole this prize on his trip

Mighty host of epic fame and renown
sailed away to retrieve this treasure
Oaths given to hunt Troy's Paris down
Sacking the great city for good measure

Tens years , battles history so records
Heroes of brave deeds, tales now told
Great warriors , sworn to mighty Lords
Fought in the style of swords of old

War was long and death was so redundant
Odysseus, devised a very cunning deceit
Pray upon Troy's hopes so very abundant
Victory, the sailing away of Greek fleet

A gift of a horse statue left on shore
Warriors hidden within its outer shell
Planned surprise attack just once more
Sack Troy sending its warriors to hell

Such a success was this devious plan
Troy fell to its most relentless foes
Death harvested wrath upon every man
Brought Odysseus trials the story goes

Odysseus warrior of Troy's epic defeat
Master of the great bow of Eurytus fame
Destroyer of Troy by such cunning deceit
Slayer sailed away, Troy in all in flame

Robert J. Lindley , 05-14-2013


note: Eurytus' grandfather was Apollo, the archer-god,
and was also a famed archer. Eurytus has been noted by
some as the one who taught Heracles the art of archery.

According to Homer, Eurytus became so proud of his
archery skills that he challenged Apollo. The god
killed Eurytus for his presumption, and Eurytus' bow
was passed to Iphitus, who later gave the bow to his
friend Odysseus. It was this bow that Odysseus used to
kill the suitors who had wanted to take his wife,
Penelope.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-01-2014, 10:03 PM
The First Flower I Chose


You were my rose, the first flower I chose
A beauty so fair, such shine in your hair
You I chose, the finest ever love rose
Asked on a dare, the prettiest girl there

Soon we wed, pretty flower graced my bed
Nights sent such bliss, heaven I did not miss
Flames in bed, want no other instead
Honey that kiss, love never was like this

Years together, in good and bad weather
Loving every night, touching sweet just right
Joy our weather, sweet kisses a feather
Sexy the sight, your naked body at night

My rose did cast, true love that did so last
I held so fast, to that ship's greatest mast

08-31-2014

Contest- Form Sonnet
Regina Riddle
Contest Name , Sonnet on a Intimate Relationship

Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 114

A very stiff contest that one is.. Great many very strong poets have entered. I put extra time in composing this perfect 10 sonnet.. Surely may take first place but its truly up to what the judge favors and how impartial they are.
Notice my entry is not signed but other very popular poets sign theirs to garner that bias already existing with the contest sponsor.
Yet I always submit mine unsigned unless a signature is required in the contest rules. Simply because I want mine judged on content only not any positive bias that may exist ..
Many published poets there seem to always sign theirs EVEN when rules stipulate not to. And they still get placed instead of eliminated for rule breaking. Favoritism is a plague there yet I now have 61 wins out of 77 contests judged. Currently I am listed as number 26th in the top One Hundred Best Contest Poets. Achieved that in 4 months and with no favoritism.. And actually a bit of anti-favoritism in the ones submitted in which I had to sign my name because contest rules stipulated it..
The established hierarchy there frown on the new upstarts.. And that's who run 95% of the contests.
I seem to always be the outcast every new place I go..- :laugh: --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-04-2014, 10:29 PM
A poem by a good friend of mine .
Not an epic sonnet but a damn fine poem classed as rhyme.
I hope you enjoy.... --Tyr

Poem by Robert Nehls
Form: Rhyme


LIFE'S STORIES

His eyes are dark, but, there's still a spark.
There are canyons in his face.
His lungs are gone and it won't be long,
'Till his heart can't keep the pace.
He's lived three lives, had his share of wives.
The decades have been nine.
There's a soul to bare, with a joy to share.
And he always says, "I'm fine."

He's a wise old man and the whole damn clan,
Likes to hear him tell his tales.
He remembers when as a boy of ten,
He was raising up the sails,
Of his father's boat and he'll always gloat,
"It was hard work for a boy."
"Hell, it was hard for men, but I'd go again,
Just to feel that youthful joy."

With dreams to follow and pride to swallow,
He reached for life with lust.
Following his heart, met his first sweetheart,
On the street he calls, "False Trust."
After one short week, they were heard to speak,
"Until death do us part."
Then, the next two years, thunder, lightning, tears.
And she left with his torn heart.

Lost in grief a while, it was hard to smile.
And he wore his armor well.
Heartless, hurt and laden, but a fair young maiden
Put him under her sweet spell.
Speaking of her dreams, and the gold dust streams
Sparkled in her clear blue eyes.
Making his blood stir, and he followed her
To the land of pastel skies.

Bitter cold up there, but he didn't care.
She could make the hard ice melt.
Then his heart returned, and a fire burned.
True love was what he felt.
She could feel it to and the fever grew,
Like the child in her womb.
But, a family was not meant to be.
And her corpse became it's tomb.

His whole world shattered and nothing mattered.
Streams and canyons echoed pain.
Cursing God and man for the evil plan,
That was driving him insane.
Wandering aimlessly in the open sea,
Of demented souls that quit.
Two long years go by, and he can't deny,
He remembers none of it.

Then at twenty five, well, he comes alive,
And decides to live once more.
Like a broken spell, he walks out of hell,
Passing through life's open door.
Everyone there knows where the story goes,
And the old man kind of grins.
With a little wink, he begins to think,
This is where my life begins.

There was gold out there and he didn't care,
What it took to make it his.
"I'll be rich one day," he was heard to say,
"And that's just the way it is."
Well, he mucked and slaved but he never caved,
So the gold gave up the fight.
There were nuggets found measured by the pound;
Bringing golden dreams in sight.

Just a vagabond who was rich beyond,
The means of any king.
He was young with health and he bathed in wealth,
As the girls began to cling.
Well, he played the field, but he wouldn't yield,
To the pressures of the heart.
There were memories, love was some disease,
That could tear a soul apart.

He was rich it's true, but he also knew,
That you can't buy happiness.
So, he headed down to his old home town,
To what? He could only guess.
It was strange to see the old filigree,
Pressed in frames upon the wall.
Faces lost somehow to the years that now,
Drift into his heart's recall.

Seven years had passed since his father last,
Took a breath upon this earth.
Mother held him tight and to his delight,
He began to feel his worth.
No conditions there, love was everywhere,
Riches far beyond the gold.
So, he bought some land, and he took the hand,
Of fate with a life to mold.

Was a big barn dance, when another chance,
At true love was brought his way.
With her skin so fair, and her golden hair,
He was drawn to Jenny Mae.
Dancing close all night and to his delight,
She allowed a little kiss.
When he dreamed of her, the thought would occur.
There was too much there to miss.

He was ready then, his heart soared again,
And he longed to tie the knot.
Down upon his knee with a marriage plea,
A sweet wife was what he got.
Life brought so much joy when their baby boy,
Had been born out on the farm.
And eventually it was them plus three.
Fate had swung it's loving arm.

There were ups and downs, but the world goes round,
With reunions every year.
And he swells with pride as he holds his bride,
Sitting next to him it's clear,
That we may grow old, but there's always gold,
To share when love abounds.
Laughter all about, life that seems to shout,
Love's the greatest of all sounds.

Tell us more, they say, right up 'till today;
He's reminded where they were.
He includes them all in his tale as tall,
As an ancient Douglas fir.
Jenny holds his hand, ah, this life's so grand.
And the old man kind of grins.
With a little wink, he begins to think.
This is where my life begins.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-06-2014, 09:37 AM
As We Cry In The Darkness



We cry in the darkness, the echoes cast
a shadow on the things that never last
Tears eat into our souls, our hearts wept
dreams brought sadness even as we slept

The Hand of Fate, O' what great mystery
death and destruction mankind's history
Lost in blackness that covers the all
our screams echo back on us as we fall

Light, if allowed will pierce this gloom
we should not race blindly to our doom
Purpose of life can be harness for good
yield not to the plea of, if only I could

Raise sails to set ship onto a new trail
a journey that races ever away from hell
Faith embraced sends wind that so bless
Demand true love, never settle for less!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-06-2014

note: The blind see only darkness ahead.
Once eyes are opened we see light of truth
We find true love is purpose of life instead.

Written this morn for a contest.
My son asked, Dad why do you write poetry.
I answered sincerely, because I can and because I must.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-06-2014, 12:00 PM
River Laps Softly

The ripples of water lap river's edge
quietly I sit, a man seeking love
The orange twilight stirs my lonely soul
nearby, lonely call of a single dove

Sweetest place roaring river moans and churns
fish splashing about in a soft replay
Continuance as the world slowly turns
colors splash endings to wonderful day

The smell is that of fish , water and mud
cool air spreading its greatest soft relief
Comfort gives to stop anger in my blood
as Nature gifts a most calming belief

Soon its quiet , knowledge enters my soul
Victory came because I made it so

Robert J. Lindley

Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 101

This write just won first place in a very strong poetry contest.
The syllable count is perfect and rhythm very strong as well. With the message fitting the contest theme perfectly. For those not well versed in poetry it is not an easy thing for a poet to write on subjects on demand (contest themes) for most poets write on what strikes their fancy at any given moment. Takes a high level to not only write poetry well on demand but to place first with such a write against extremely strong competition!
The contest judge wrote me a pm stating she thought it of exceptional quality and indicative of a truly great talent.
I sent back a reply, it was a far better write before I edited it to be a perfect ten syllables in every verse as required for a sonnet!

gabosaurus
09-07-2014, 11:54 PM
Country singer Kacey Musgraves with words to live by...

If you save yourself for marriage
You're a bore
If you don't save yourself for marriage
You're a hor-rible person
If you won't have a drink
Then you're a prude
But they'll call you a drunk
As soon as you down the first one

If you can't lose the weight
Then you're just fat
But if you lose too much
Then you're on crack
You're damned if you do
And you're damned if you don't
So you might as well just do
Whatever you want
So

Make lots of noise
Kiss lots of boys
Or kiss lots of girls
If that's something you're into
When the straight and narrow
Gets a little too straight
Roll up a joint, or don't
Just follow your arrow
Wherever it points, yeah
Follow your arrow
Wherever it points

If you don't go to church
You'll go to hell
If you're the first one
On the front row
You're self-righteous
Son of a-
Can't win for losing
You'll just disappoint 'em
Just 'cause you can't beat 'em
Don't mean you should join 'em

So make lots of noise
Kiss lots of boys
Or kiss lots of girls
If that's something you're into
When the straight and narrow
Gets a little too straight
Roll up a joint, or don't
Just follow your arrow
Wherever it points, yeah
Follow your arrow
Wherever it points

Say what you think
Love who you love
'Cause you just get
So many trips 'round the sun
Yeah, you only
Only live once

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-08-2014, 10:52 PM
Those Glory Days, Long Gone


Those glory days resting so far bygone
I trek ahead, sad and so all alone
Treasures left upon lofty mountain tops
Rushing ever foward, no time for stops

Days, we resting under a shading oak
loving in vows that we forever spoke
Coolest mornings, breezing days easing minds
days of joy in all the many new finds

Those views of life sing forever above
crystal dreams set in our undying love
Nights of magic in epic love unbound
blisses in every kiss our wet lips found

Memories of days and nights now alone
holding memories of life so long gone!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-07-2014


Poem Syllable Counter Results

Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 100

Did it , hit exactly one hundred words + ten syllables
per line and great rhyme.. A solid sonnet according to
my own personal standards. Wrote it and had to minor
correct only three lines..

gabosaurus
09-08-2014, 11:00 PM
Perhaps the only heavy metal song ever written that salutes and glorifies the Marines. Of course, it is written by a German who goes by the name of Tom Angelripper.

Inclination for the rock'n roll war
Under the flag of peace and law
Your native country to set it free
In the air, on land and on the sea

For their honour and their golden crown
Swing the judgements glory hammer down
The patriot within their valiant heart
Keep'em hungry for the liberty love

Hatred just a tool the aggressors to control
Into the jungle's depth, into the desert storm
Caught between legions of hate
Caught beneath malefic eyes of fate

Seems that we are doomed to drown your hopes
Marching to the destiny, no attitudes to lie
Don't want to leave that battlefield without a sign
Engaged to the rifle by my side
Marines
They're fighting for you
Marines
They're dying for you
Marines
Keep your honour clean
Marines

You are the chosen one securing the world
Universal soldier to the bone
And for my brothers you'll get what you deserve
Down the bloody road to war

Marines
They're fighting for you
Marines
They're dying for you
Marines
Keep your honour clean
Marines
Out in the killin'fields
Marines

Marines
They're fighting for you
Marines
They're dying for you
Marines
Keep your honour clean
Marines

You hear the mine clicking under your feet
You know you have to go
You hear the trigger of a foreign gun
To bury all your hope

Ever pave the way for endless peace
Self-sacrificing 'til you have the world to leave
For the common people honest generation
Just you can stop the human disintegration

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-10-2014, 02:04 AM
Form- Sonnet


Choices, Voices and Bad Company

Bang , bang , gunshots in heated night air sang
jump back , be careful where you nightly hang
Fun, fun , going where the night action stays
danger waits hidden when nights replace days!

Kick it, kick it, time to chase the gals
beware safety gone if you hang with pals
So carry a shooter , step up your game
name in the paper soon may be your fame!

Hold on, hold on, your future life has game
you grab future rejecting drugs so lame
Stand up , a man that carries his own weight
yield not to greed, lust and all useless hate!

Live on, living to find your star and shine
Live on, love in life , love so very fine!

Poem Syllable Counter Results

Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 124

A sonnet written for a contest.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-10-2014, 02:08 AM
Wrote Her Another Poem

Wrote an alluring poem for her this morn
joys of love for her and our first born
The Sun rose to bask glory upon her face
as she walked in beauty and perfect grace

Gentle wind sang of great admiration too
as flowers in unison it so joyously blew
The trees swayed in rhythm and sweet time
earth going right along with gentle clime

Honeydew , pretty songs of birds did tell
of sweetness and harmony given as well
She that elicits a glowing sincere praise
my heart, joy and temperature did raise

Hot morn matching an intense hotly felt ardor
she that stirs me to ever try so much harder!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-06-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-12-2014, 11:18 AM
Rushing Waters Stir The Soul

The water rushed by with a glow
its journey's end few may know
Just a long creek flowing west
deep into wetlands I knew best

Sunny morns I visit to renew
stir heart, wipe away the blue
Sounds so pleasing to my ears
comforting sights easing fears

Fish flopping all about in play
soul stirring sight this day
Kingfisher diving for a feast
Sun rising swifting in the East

Trees wrapping its gentle banks
my heart and soul giving thanks
Another dream I hold in my mind
of Nature and this scenic find!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-12-2014

note: Written this morn, only moments ago. A very quick write..
Tossed out of me to soothe my dark moments this morn.
To give a few moments away from pondering the insanity and
evil that rules this world and this nation..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-13-2014, 07:54 PM
Two Worlds Now


I know of only two worlds now
that of birth and death
riding to towards death
On a horse yoked to a plow

I live in the here and now
ever mindful of life
ever loving my life
Hours spent pulling a plow

I await the coming of fate
the singing of the end
the promise of the end
Time given away from hate

Two worlds singing out so very loud
Both wrapped within the same shroud!

Robert Lindley. 09-13-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-13-2014, 11:25 PM
How Poetry Began


Gentle spirit came to visit noble man
sent poetic verse throughout the land
Declared she, I am the original Muse
your heart , soul and mind seek to use

Write and sing,love so deeply with me
we together shall plant a poetry tree
As our hearts join to this world sail
love and hope shall forever prevail

The Universe I have long ago tread
every galaxy my words have been read
You , mankind are the last I will meet
the poetic ground now underneath my feet

Open your hearts and see with new eyes
this new way will defeat all the lies
Beam of true light shall open your mind
you will be the first in all poetic kind

With this visit the original Muse departed
poetry spread in each heart it was started
Now we seek ever to find this greatest Muse
to prove how brilliantly she did choose!

Robert Lindley , 09-13-2014

How Poetry Began contest....

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-16-2014, 10:19 PM
The Tumid River of Acheron (the journey) Part 1

Dark the tumid, rushing waters flow
where man most wisely fears to go
Liquid blackness sings of epic pain
torture, misery and cries of insane
Echoes of evil Eperius in the West
shadow realm where evil never rests

Black ship of Kharon eternally sail
into the sunless land of a dark hell
Land those lost , family and friend
exists for all wicked women and men
Black abyss where Apollo never walks
lost souls ripped by screeching hawks

Forever filled by rowboat conveyed
miserable, crying souls are relayed
Crossing the tarn of Acheron then
cursing future torments for all men
Seething waters set to ever separate
those lost into future tortured Fate

Father of evil waters from which sprang
the Styx of which man's curses rang
Flowing stream holding back evil foul
where tortured spirits scream and howl
Acheron, into a lake of scorching heat
where demons play with souls they eat

Delivered shadows fall on prayers cast
vanity briefly soothes, forever lasts
Prayers sinking like river cast stones
dreams birthed from dead skin and bones
Waters that wrap around Haides evil realm
with Daimon, the dark Lord at the helm

Gushing forth from the bowels of rock
mighty blackened waters rise to shock
Upon its moving mass of wretched stink
poison so lethal no mortal man may drink
Kharon, the ferryman awaits at the oars
to deliver the lost upon evil's shores

Far below the path of Mariandyni coast
the Acheron ferries victims to its host
Loaded with spirits of cries and moans
Kharon laughs at all the misery groans
From the south shore of the black sea
in sun's light never again will they be

Many are the tales of Acheron's fame
its victims steeped in sin and shame
Anguish rises as dark waters deliver
the wretched lost to painfully quiver
In this dark abhorrent , torturing Hell
those embracing lustful sin into evil fell

Robert J. Lindley, 09-13-2014

note: This is part one. The journey into HAIDES
by way of crossing the Styx. The river Styx is
actually an off shoot of Acheron that splits into
the Styx and the Cocytus.

Part two now has two lines written. It will be titled ,
Haides and Tormented Souls (the Dwelling)..
I have no preset limit to the second part, may be
longer or shorter. I suspect it will be even longer.
I hope the readers enjoy this write...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-18-2014, 09:55 PM
Rescued From Death's Bed


The angel touched her heart then
turned her away from mortal men
Setting her course to sleep alone
in a cavern where no light shown

Yet she travelled in nightly dreams
to shining lands with epic streams
Upon which hardy men sailed away
making fortunes wherever they may

Lonely travellers so far from home
missing love as they set to roam
Dreams of beautiful vixens at night
saw her appear glowing in her light

First she could see but not speak
a silent image their heart did seek
As the sad years flew swiftly by
her words appeared telling men why

Her punishment was for her misdeed
an unfaithful lover she cut to bleed
Watch him bleed life into the dust
never again was she to ever trust

Avenging angel sent to punish then
keep her away from all mortal men
For her beauty could sway any heart
to find her a map drawn on a chart

Hundreds tried but nobody did win
free her from the cavern of her sin
As her broken heart started to fall
she heard a brave sea captain call

Map he had memorized just to find
the image that appeared in his mind
Into the dark lost lake he did sail
his love swore that he'd never fail

Moon was full bright when he arrived
to elude her guards he had contrived
Plan to lure her terrible guards away
rescue her before the break of day

Her guards were two dragons fierce
with scales no weapon could pierce
Captain would flash powder to blind
their eyes as in he went in to find

All went just as was his bold plan
out the cavern he and his love ran
Soon two lovers were aboard his ship
dragon guards they managed to slip

Sun rose, she saw a dead lover's face
back to death his soul had to race
For the captain was her victim bled
freed her from his dark death's bed!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-17-2014

A write for a contest. Dark poetry, mythology, etc.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-20-2014, 01:39 AM
When Hell Froze Over


Trees shed their leaves,
the worms dig in deeper
Mothers cry and grieve
woman is the best weeper

Cold blasting each night,
birds froze on the ground
Sad hell was the fight
no hope was ever found

Winter ate their souls,
the keepers of evil hearts
Soldiers fought epic goals
the dead filled the carts

War or cold killed more,
dead is dead, hope gone
Wasted prayers to implore
heroes frozen all alone

Trail, path frozen dead,
winter sent home too soon
asleep but not in a bed
never to sing another tune

Retreat frenchmen knew well,
as their army frozen there
Now germans found this hell
in the frozen land of the bear!

Robert J.Lindley, 09-20-2014


note:
Hitler's armies were frozen out just as was
Napoleon's in the previous century. Russian
winter was an enemy that killed mercilessly.
The winter of 1941-42 was one of the worst in
recorded history. Daily temperatures fell to
40 degrees below zero. German soldiers had not
been issued with warm winter clothing as Hitler
believed that the invasion would be over by the
winter. Soldiers froze to death in their sleep,
diesel froze in fuel tanks and food was in very
short supply. Russian soldiers had been issued
with winter clothing and did not suffer as badly
as their German enemies.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-21-2014, 10:48 PM
God's Kind of Poetry


God this universe He did weave
long before ever an Adam and Eve
Words he spoke created the All
so long before man's greatest fall

Those words hidden from our view
yet our poetry gifts a great clue
In poetry's heart our souls rest
we gift in it our love our very best

Our words strive to match God
seeking such a wonderful nod
Spiritual bliss to one and all
the serenity before man's fall

Who can resist words of love
prayer and pleas to God above
The thought that he spoke same
honored man with love and name

A universe we have to explore
first We poets seek that door
The one that sings poetic praise
heart contented , soul to raise

Never can we forget our place
poets lead into this epic race
Words sent to reach out to Him
lights so bright and never dim

Poetry the way to try to reach
giving love as we seek to teach
Man seeks to give God a reply
You love us ALL but why, Why?

Robert J. Lindley 09-21-2014

For : Sponsor Brian Johnston
Contest Name Challenge Title "God's Kind Of Poetry'

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-25-2014, 11:19 AM
Youthful Transgressions, Rejudged

Let God judge my past wicked ways
cast stale food from dirty trays
So much molded bread happily ate
a leper in a rich famishing fate

Let my Soul eat out of my heart
pray love and spirit never part
To many deeds born of living hell
some so bad I shall never tell

Let my Life venture a fine course
consider deep regrets my source
To little care embraced in youth
memories steeped in wishful truth

Let Fate render a verdict so fair
Pray love gifts a verdict to share

Robert J. Lindley,

Note: A sonnet written for a contest, co-winner -- first place awarded....

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-27-2014, 05:33 PM
My newest contest write...--Tyr

Falling Into Her Vision From The Start


The sky bent to her loving will
losing her brought a epic chill
Never ever would I let her go
she the angel whiter than snow
Music sounds when she walks in
she my lover, my eternal friend
Days we traveled in love's embrace
I deeply lost in her sweet grace
No power could ever stop my ardor
every time apart so much harder!

My heart she gave again its birth
I love her for all I am ever worth
Those long nights we burned in bed
never did I ever fear to tread
Path to her sweet treasure trove
I ran, leaped and delightfully dove
Each morn her face sang to my soul
it was she that again made me whole
My All bent to her loving desires
she the Sun fueling my sexual fires!

Yes, she happily ate my burning heart
As I fell into her vision from the start!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-27-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-30-2014, 10:30 AM
As I Lift My Eyes To See Heaven



I lift my eyes to see heaven above
God's trinity that does so shine
Golden vessels filled with love
God's heart forever loving mine

Sweet are the words sent to me
sacrifice given to change my fate
Lord, answering my desperate plea
washing away all the evil hate

Glory, too weak for describing you
mankind, unworthy to your name
Trueist love you sent sweetly into
we that were so blinded and lame

The Trinity stands as the only One
your divine Will never to be undone


09-28-2014.

Sponsor Catie Lindsey
Contest Name, Poems of Praise

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
09-30-2014, 08:16 PM
Poem by a good friend of mine, a fellow poet that says
it so well...-Tyr



My Fallen Brother

White marble stones
Stand proud in the sun
To remember my colleagues
The heroic fallen ones

Many a battle
Many a campaign
Some did return
For some never the same

On the green grass I stand
Blue sky above
The souls of my comrade's
Like peaceful sitting doves

The name on this stone
Reminds me of the day
My best friend and brother
Was taken away

An offensive was launched
Brothers at war
Bunker to take
At the top of a tor

Smoke screen exhausts the view to the hill
As we wind our way through
Zipping bullets, blood spill
Noises of lead, as they rip through the flesh
As we hit the barbed wire
Now a scarlet stained mesh

Objective in sight as we approach our aim
As I hear the groan of the injured
Many dead, maimed

Grenade pin pulled
Bunker window we lob
Hands sweating
How many lives will we rob
Explosion flash, shouts of pain
As the smoke lifts on this bloody terrain

We enter the Bunker
To witness our task
The enemy lie distorted
Faces grimace, death mask

I turn to my brother to signal it's safe
As a shot rings out in this theatre place
He stands still for a moment
Eyes glazing and cold
The death of my sibling
At 19 years old

As I open my eyes and turn to my son
I see what I have as he holds my grandson
Family values, love and a bond
As I remember my brother
Of whom I was so fond

I proudly walk past, salute as I go
The white stones standing proud
Peaceful doves in a row
I find myself fortunate to stand here and tell
To talk of my brother, and the fallen as well

Author , James Fraser

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-01-2014, 12:00 AM
Burning Our Dreams Into Cold, Dark Ashes

Shall we dance to music
of misty dawns
Celebrate the beauty of newborn fawns
join in Nature's treasures
stroll the woods and never measure
The beauty of its silent sound
the depth of its holy ground

Or just remember to praise
joy it shall forever raise
Songs in our hearts that give
paradise glimpses as we live
Pause to gaze at covering sky
stir its birds to forever fly
into arcs of colorful flashes
burning our dreams into cold, dark ashes!

Robert J. Lindley 09-29-2014

Note. - Greatly shortened rewrite of a poem I wrote in 1981.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-03-2014, 09:56 AM
The Planting

Seeds of sorrow lay scattered along our path
so oft interwined with Nature's wrath
Yet till the fields of dreams we simply must
for soon , so very soon we turn to dust

Green is the color of majestic newborn fields
as man enjoys fruits of earthen harvested yields
The sweat and pain given is the simple cost
thus we survive so ALL humanity is not lost

Life requires our own ground be rightly prepared
ignorance is the calamity so many are ensnared
We eat the dust long before we bake the bread
when we seek ease oft great sorrow we get instead

We plant our own seeds to dream to reap anew
yet we all pay, life is not free, tis so very true!

Robert Lindley, 10-01- 2014

Note, A sonnet written in reply to a poet's write
, a sonnet titled - The Sowing.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-04-2014, 09:58 PM
In honor of this Halloween month............

Halloween , The Undead Rise


How did darkness sneak into this room
echoes sounding of agonizing doom
Shrill sounds like chaotic dancing feet
images of stabbed and rotting meat

A dark mist hangs in this musty air
faint cries giving any soul a scare
Thumpings upon the foot of the bed
glimpses of many bloody, mutilated dead

Door opening to view another world
objects across the room savagely hurled
Ghostly apparition floating in the scene
claws so long with face so hideously mean

Wicked laugh coming from under the bed
mangled hand sliding forth , the undead
Smell of death's stinking odor so foul
fear cries to just flee but mind asks how!

Robert J. Lindley

Note: Month of the Undead.
Written for long ago my daughter, she loved it ......
and the scary stories I told her. Just read it to Justin, he said--"Ghosts are not real dad."
I replied , ok, tell me again in the morning and mentioned
sometimes they show up just to teach unbelievers a lesson.. (to stir his imagination)
Odds are ten to one that he asks to sleep in our room tonight after he is put to bed. ;)-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-05-2014, 08:51 PM
1st version... Original first draft....

Death, You Do Not Win

The world has been bad to me
yet no where, no where to flee
Sit and just take it I must
yes, we all return to earthly dust

Crying does no worldly good
defiant with spirit as I should
Loss, one that can not be replaced
yet life must be again faced

I sit here , wondering how
to stop the gloom eating me now
Do I slay it with greater love
or ask help from loving God above

Anger always worked for me
now it decided to far away flee
Yet I seek not its quick return
for that folly my Soul does truly spurn!


----------------------------------------------------------------------------




2nd, revised version in iambic tetrameter.

Death, You Do Not Win


The world has been unkind to me
yet there's no where, no where to flee.
I'll sit and take it if I must
for all return to earthly dust.

To cry will do no worldly good.
Defy with spirit, as I should.
A loss that cannot be replaced
yet life must once again be faced.

So here I sit and wonder how
to stop the gloom which eats me now.
Can it be slain with greater love
or only healed by God above?

Once, anger always worked for me
but now, this time decides to flee.
Yet I seek not its quick return
true folly that my Soul shall spurn!


Robert J. Lindley, 10-05-2014

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Which looks best, which sounds best?

Second version would score very much higher in a poetry contest but is not my natural style.
As its been subjected to form too deeply and loses some of the original character of the first version.

Any comments are welcomed in regards to which one is better. Thanks Tyr...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-05-2014, 09:47 PM
Checking to see if I can download new feature at my poetry site.
Adding images to poems.. Tyr




6466

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-08-2014, 10:19 AM
The Battle, The Victory, The Light


I remember you, great destroyer of heart
emerging from darkness to hatefully start
Battles taken to wing and skyward bound
pain, death and sorrow so, so easily found!

No praise ever adorns your so vile name
curses your bread , your dark wicked fame
Ashes reform to give you such an evil way
miseries abound as you cut, slash and slay!

Seek no victory over my greatest stand
living within truth , my way , my plan
I remember well your late night knock
rejected, you fled quickly in total shock!

I remember you , eater of darkened Souls
slayer of dreams with eyes of black coal
Fangs sharpened on the sandrock in Hell
curses from victims under your dark spell!

Slink away, I curse your murdering spirit
truth slays you as you try not to hear it
I carry the armor of the bright Lord today
flee, flee or else dark life you must pay!

Sword of Love drawn now in countering you
spear of justice gives out your just due
A chant of faith sets seal to your fate
souls freed, all that your darkness ate!

Robert J. Lindley 10-08-2014


Wrote this about 27 years ago....
Rewrote it today and added ten more lines so giving
it today's date..

Light utterly destroys darkness.
In time, good utterly destroys evil.
Man , must understand time yields only to God....

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-09-2014, 12:21 AM
Another Day, Hope Returns


Another day,
sparrows still fly
death visits and we ask not why

Another night,
moon still glows
death visits, why nobody knows

Another morn,
sun still shines
death visits, clings like vines

Another fate,
shadows still flee
death visits, just not for me

Another life,
tomorrow brings
hope returns, heart now sings!

Robert J. Lindley 10-08-2014

Note:
Blues sent a message, wake up..
I put down my empty coffee cup..
Flung the saucer out the back door..
that your worst, give me more..
Laughter slid across the lawn..
light then lit this great new dawn..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-10-2014, 10:16 AM
A great sonnet by my friend , poet Roy Jerden...


Ancient Dance
In twilight, old songs you're softly humming
Silken smiles paint tender your lovely face
Beguiling my present still, becoming
in everything, sweeter than granted grace

Deep your eyes, beheld above the stillness
This mystic stance, dismissing every voice
Soft touches known in sadness and in illness
of bounty cherished, if you make the choice

Sway, your heated honey scent of passion
and poise, anticipating kiss conceived
Shall return my longing, in your fashion
and make my life ten times a joy perceived

Great grows my love to see your moves entrance
and weave with siren song the ancient dance

January 23, 2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-11-2014, 11:48 AM
A new Sonnet, written for a contest that already has some very stiff competition...-Tyr

Et Portæ Inferi Non Valebit



Gates of Hell shall never ever prevail
promulgation of Truth forever stands
Soul and Spirit each rings a sounding bell
Fate's ruthless results judges all the lands

Vanities of all men foolishly praised
Spirit's dark desires bearing bitter fruit
Rejection of He that was truly raised
lies and corruption are the stolen loot

Righteous hearts look to Heavenly skies
sincere prayers, deliver such bless reward
Mankind races onward using blinded eyes
to an ending very bitter and hard

In the dark shadow of this evil world
Our Creator's redemption has been hurled!

Robert J. Lindley, 10-11-2014

Sonnet:
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 93

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-12-2014, 01:09 AM
Door Closed, Forever Lost Key

Sitting among the ruins,
in a valley of hollow trees
Mind lost in sad thoughts
raging upon stormy seas

Future hopes stolen now,
as heart refuses to cry
She ran far, far away
hell if I'll ever know why

Sleeping amidst this scene,
where fate laughs at me
Her love forever gone south
door closed, lost is the key

Soul saddened in a lost stand
No pleasure in this evil Land

Robert J. Lindley, 04-18-1976

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-13-2014, 12:12 AM
Soul Seeks Its Maker
(Scent of My Soul)


Soul seeks its maker for great relief
from grave doubts in spiritual belief
Mysteries sent to tantalize the mind
journey forth the true light to find

Little voices singing in ones head
suggesting other dark paths instead
My Soul giving its answer so firm
only the light I seek can ever affirm

Scent of my Soul floating in my heart
each beat grants it a newborn start
As my heart slows for a restful sleep
my brain journeys forth into the deep

Destination unknown, course rightly set
spiritual butterflies caught in my net
Answers are given in the flapping wings
Soul given rest as beauty stirs to sing

Music springs lovingly in rhythmic time
thoughts and joys given so truly sublime
My Soul then wakes to each newborn day
with love and its spirit holding sway

10/12/2014, Robert J. Lindley

(Scent of My Soul) contest......

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-15-2014, 12:06 AM
Shades of Poe , Speaketh

Shades of Poe oft run in my veins
dark, dirty little splashing stains
No Raven stirs my battered heart
nor any signs on my astrology chart

Dark mysteries seep in at night
shadowed beings birthing fright
Muffled sounds sent to alarm
evil crying to scare and harm

Then my soul cries out to Poe
help me now , for you must know
Remedy for this sad affliction
a spell to give quick eviction

Reply creeps slowly back to me
close your eyes to sadly see
Darkness that drives men mad
such my heart and soul once had

No cure can by me be so gifted
you need Light to be so uplifted
My words are my aid little as is
answer you seek can only be His
Son of Light only can save you
my darkness left me only that clue!

Robert J. Lindley 10-12-2014

note: Tis' the month the Dark spreads
its evil mists to kids tucked in beds,
scary voices crying muffled shouts,
battles and shadowed little bouts,
goblins, ghouls and witches now abound
imagine such and they are then found!
My son, Justin loves the scary ones!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-17-2014, 09:07 AM
MY SOUL AND I

The Spiritual harmony of the Soul
notes I hear early morn
Better life may be the earnest goal
yet weakness comes when born

Sunlight sends its beauty to me
birds sing a morning tune
Life begets its wonderful mystery
beautiful as light of the moon

Each day imparts lessons to learn
hours gifted to be alive
Work done, midnight oil to burn
on love one can thrive

Life now sends me gifts anew
dances with a true love
Discoveries very old and true
all sent by our God above

Gleanings for the Soul to tend
salvation depends not on you
For true love man must depend
On our Savior having paid all our due!

Robert J. Lindley, 10-15-2014


Poem written for a contest, Beauty of your Soul ...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-21-2014, 09:26 AM
Fall Sets To Turn


When timely Fall sets to turn
leaves hit the ground to burn
Epic radiant colors cascade down
forested floors see leafy gown

Winter's visitor did arrive
farmers feel jubiantly alive
Harvest in , time to rejoice
winter's precurser has voice

Sounds of birds taking flight
heading South day and night
Leaves carpet forest floors
Nature soon opens another door

Moonlight nights see it all
glowing as owls hoot the Fall
Native Americans wasted no time
prepping for another bad clime

Furry critters store more food
rushing all in the frantic mood
Living in a deep winters wrath
they pursue a surviving path

Fall retreats into winter sea
naked visits each pretty tree
Leaves wrapping their roots
Nights ring out owl's hoots

Silence cries the coming day
when winter will cast its sway
Snow may cover all in white
Fall has raced out of sight

Robert J. Lindley, 10-19-2014

Written for a contest, The Leaves of Fall.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-23-2014, 09:48 AM
THE BELL OF FREEDOM

I've been to many places.
Seen so many things.
This is where I'll stay, my friends,
Where the bell of freedom rings.
But let me tell a story,
Of bells in other lands.
And how they cracked and crumbled,
From the weight of tyranny's hands.

Built with truth and honesty,
Ringing pure for years.
The people were the sovereigns,
Their status very clear.
But then the tone was changing.
A few were quite upset.
Understanding government
Can be their greatest threat.

The servants said, "The tone is off!"
"We'll fix it if we can.
We'll initiate a bureau
To carry out our plan,
And tax you just a little more
For work that must be done."
The timbre slowly getting worse.
The process had begun.

The people were oblivious
To changes being made.
The bell was slowly cracking
And higher taxes laid.
A private corporation
Controlled the currency.
The gold was taken from them
Along with liberty.

Soon the people asked for help,
They could not stand the weight.
The bell was falling swiftly,
To be destroyed, it's fate.
And they became the servants
That swept up the remains,
Of the bell that fell on hallowed land
And truth that it contains.

The thought of being sovereign?
For a few, a memory.
But most do not remember
Of ever being free.
They struggle, and the simple things
Are now a luxury,
And those that pull the puppet's strings,
Control their destiny.

Robert Nehls. 7-14-2014
----------------------------------
A good friend of mine, the poet Robert Nehls, wrote and won a contest with this fine write..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-26-2014, 05:19 PM
The Skeleton in Armor

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


“Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!

Who, with thy hollow breast

Still in rude armor drest,

Comest to daunt me!

Wrapt not in Eastern balms,

But with thy fleshless palms

Stretched, as if asking alms,

Why dost thou haunt me?”


Then, from those cavernous eyes

Pale flashes seemed to rise,

As when the Northern skies

Gleam in December;

And, like the water’s flow

Under December’s snow,

Came a dull voice of woe

From the heart’s chamber.


“I was a Viking old!

My deeds, though manifold,

No Skald in song has told,

No Saga taught thee!

Take heed, that in thy verse

Thou dost the tale rehearse,

Else dread a dead man’s curse;

For this I sought thee.


“Far in the Northern Land,

By the wild Baltic’s strand,

I, with my childish hand,

Tamed the gerfalcon;

And, with my skates fast-bound,

Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,

That the poor whimpering hound

Trembled to walk on.


“Oft to his frozen lair

Tracked I the grisly bear,

While from my path the hare

Fled like a shadow;

Oft through the forest dark

Followed the were-wolf’s bark,

Until the soaring lark

Sang from the meadow.


“But when I older grew,

Joining a corsair’s crew,

O’er the dark sea I flew

With the marauders.

Wild was the life we led;

Many the souls that sped,

Many the hearts that bled,

By our stern orders.


“Many a wassail-bout

Wore the long Winter out;

Often our midnight shout

Set the cocks crowing,

As we the Berserk’s tale

Measured in cups of ale,

Draining the oaken pail,

Filled to o’erflowing.


“Once as I told in glee

Tales of the stormy sea,

Soft eyes did gaze on me,

Burning yet tender;

And as the white stars shine

On the dark Norway pine,

On that dark heart of mine

Fell their soft splendor.


“I wooed the blue-eyed maid,

Yielding, yet half afraid,

And in the forest’s shade

Our vows were plighted.

Under its loosened vest

Fluttered her little breast,

Like birds within their nest

By the hawk frighted.


“Bright in her father’s hall

Shields gleamed upon the wall,

Loud sang the minstrels all,

Chanting his glory;

When of old Hildebrand

I asked his daughter’s hand,

Mute did the minstrels stand

To hear my story.


“While the brown ale he quaffed,

Loud then the champion laughed,

And as the wind-gusts waft

The sea-foam brightly,

So the loud laugh of scorn,

Out of those lips unshorn,

From the deep drinking-horn

Blew the foam lightly.


“She was a Prince’s child,

I but a Viking wild,

And though she blushed and smiled,

I was discarded!

Should not the dove so white

Follow the sea-mew’s flight,

Why did they leave that night

Her nest unguarded?


“Scarce had I put to sea,

Bearing the maid with me,

Fairest of all was she

Among the Norsemen!

When on the white sea-strand,

Waving his armed hand,

Saw we old Hildebrand,

With twenty horsemen.


“Then launched they to the blast,

Bent like a reed each mast,

Yet we were gaining fast,

When the wind failed us;

And with a sudden flaw

Came round the gusty Skaw,

So that our foe we saw

Laugh as he hailed us.


“And as to catch the gale

Round veered the flapping sail,

‘Death!’ was the helmsman’s hail,

‘Death without quarter!’

Mid-ships with iron keel

Struck we her ribs of steel;

Down her black hulk did reel

Through the black water!


“As with his wings aslant,

Sails the fierce cormorant,

Seeking some rocky haunt,

With his prey laden, —

So toward the open main,

Beating to sea again,

Through the wild hurricane,

Bore I the maiden.


“Three weeks we westward bore,

And when the storm was o’er,

Cloud-like we saw the shore

Stretching to leeward;

There for my lady’s bower

Built I the lofty tower,

Which, to this very hour,

Stands looking seaward.


“There lived we many years;

Time dried the maiden’s tears;

She had forgot her fears,

She was a mother;

Death closed her mild blue eyes,

Under that tower she lies;

Ne’er shall the sun arise

On such another!


“Still grew my bosom then,

Still as a stagnant fen!

Hateful to me were men,

The sunlight hateful!

In the vast forest here,

Clad in my warlike gear,

Fell I upon my spear,

Oh, death was grateful!


“Thus, seamed with many scars,

Bursting these prison bars,

Up to its native stars

My soul ascended!

There from the flowing bowl

Deep drinks the warrior’s soul,

Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!”

Thus the tale ended.

ALL THINGS VIKING WITH ME... ;)--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-27-2014, 10:37 AM
A free verse write, inspired by a story that I recently read...
I rarely do free verse being a rhyme poet primarily that favors sonnets...-Tyr


Dances in the Clouds

Hear the racing winds sound....

as Nature sends nurture

and soaks the pleading soil

with its falling liquid gold

cycles repeated beautifully


Harken to earth's natural rhythms

with its glories on parade

colors singing proudly

snows setting sweetly,

future life in Sunny clouds

treasures gifted with relish


See the Rays of birth gleaming all about

steps taken with happy tears

beauty staring into bliss

dances under the glowing moon

floods of expected dreams

life dwelling in chaotic splendor


Rest, rest gently upon earthy pillows

sleep in resplendent slumber

dream in sweet repose

sail upon crystal wings

reliving tales of golden glory.......


Robert J. Lindley, 10-27-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-28-2014, 09:54 AM
Odin's Brood

Tyr, Ziu and Saxnot triple threats to the giants*
Hermoor, Heimdallr, Magni and Thor all so defiant
gods of might and power, protectors of sweet earth
Odin's brave brood , courage and strength since birth

Vali, so very set on revenge and great destruction
so skilled in the guiles of seduction and abduction
Mani, shines with force , moon god of the mighty Norse
attempts seducing Nott , goddess of night , of course

Ullr , god of the winter, the hunt and sword duel
tricked by evil Loki that thought him a great fool
Sjofn, temptress , shining majestic goddess of love
that inspires freyja in love, and battle far above

Odin, that set the universe , the mysteries of life
frigga that bore him the sons of glory and paradise
All players in the Nordic thoughts of darkness and light
each serving to stir man's ardor and great zeal to fight

Greatest of all was the powerful legend of mighty Thor
that roamed the earth , destroying evil shore to shore
The bravest son of all Odin's great, mischievous clan
replacing mighty Tyr in the eyes of justice and man!

07/01/2014


Poem notes:

giants* (The Jötnar are a mythological race that live in Jötunheimr, one of the
nine)
Speakers of Old Norse called them jötnar (singular jötunn, pronounced
roughly “YO-tun”) or þursar (singular þurs, pronounced “THURS” like the first
element in “Thursday” but with a soft “s” at the end). Jötunn comes from the
Proto-Germanic *etunaz and means “devourer.” The Old English eóten is a
cognate (it means the same thing and comes from the same Proto-Germanic
word).[1] Þurs is derived from the Proto-Germanic þurisaz and means
something like “powerful and injurious one” with a secondary connotation
of “thorn-like.” The Old English ðyrs and Old High German duris are cognates.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What to Submit?

1 original, poem on the theme of Norse people and or their gods

do your research into this fascinating subject and be orginal
Any form is acceptable but you will score higher by using metre and rhyme

no poems over 20 lines please

no Names I judge blind

Date your poem please

gl to all


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contest Results:

All Things Norse
Contest Judged: 8/2/2014 12:00:00 AM Information About the Contest

Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton

Place

Poem

Poet
Contest Winner Medal 1 , Odin's Brood , Robert Lindley
Contest Winner Medal 1 , Two Ravens in the Night, Christopher Britt

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
10-29-2014, 10:15 AM
She Returns


Gone is bitter winter chill
warm is her body next to mine
Our last breakup left me ill
her curves sizzle so fine

Spring crashes in with glee
our nights now last longer
Her last escape so hurt me
she returned, I am stronger

Summer gives us water play
rivers and lakes to enjoy
Secluded spots to strip
enjoy, enjoy each tiny sip

Fall returns to soon shout
Am I staying in or going out


R.J. Lindley
10-19, 1976

note: A sonnet written almost 40 years ago..
Another try at making it a go with my first wife, Melinda.
Failure was predestined because I had no way to
defeat her drug addiction..
She , that was once the light from the moon...
Now faded to black.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-02-2014, 09:36 AM
Something was stated recently by a person I respected. That poetry is lame.
Question then is poetry a lame writing form?--Tyr



http://www.philosophy.uncc.edu/mleldrid/SAAP/USC/DP13.html

Poetry as a Unique Art Form

Submitted as Discussion Paper to the 2007 Annual Meeting of the

Society for the Advancement of American Philosophy



Abstract:

In this paper I look at John Dewey’s and Hans-Georg Gadamer’s contributions to the classic question of the whether the arts should be ranked, specifically whether poetry should have a special standing among the arts. I lay out Dewey’s account of poetry and his late arguments against ranking the arts; then I lay out Gadamer’s account of poetry and his argument that poetry holds an exemplary status among the arts. I finally argue with Gadamer against Dewey that poetry not only deserves pride of place among the arts, but is also exemplary for understanding how language functions as disclosive. My argument draws on Gadamer’s view that language cannot be considered simply a tool as opposed to Dewey’s view that language is a tool, albeit the “tool of tools.”





When Alcuin set out the artes liberales at the end of the eighth century, three things kept poetry from finding a distinctive place: Plato’s concerns about the corruptive power of poetry; poesis—“making”—suggesting poetry belonged to the mechanical rather than liberal arts; and the Pythagorean mathematicization of music. Through the middle ages, the best poetry could hope for was a place under the category of rhetoric; though, since it was then seen as oriented only to pleasure, the Medieval Church shared Plato’s suspicions. So, when poetry took off in the 14th century it’s not surprising that something so connected to both language and music should seem to transcend the split between the trivium (grammar, rhetoric, and logic) and quadrivium (arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music). When Leonardo da Vinci in 1490 argued that painting not only belongs among the liberal arts, but is the highest of the arts, it was music and poetry—one the master of invisible things, the other the master of visible things—he sought to dethrone. Poetry was no longer a tool of rhetoric, but an art of first rank, and the nature of music lie in its emotional power, not in mathematical relations.

Leonardo’s arguments never caught on, but the link between poetry and music has been often repeated, as has been their status as the highest of the arts. In the 19th century G.F.W. Hegel called poetry “the universal art of the mind.”[1] It “runs though all the arts” and is art’s “highest phase,” one phase higher than music. Arthur Schopenhauer inverted the priority: poetry is “the true mirror of the real nature of the world and life,”[2] but music, since it speaks directly to the will unmediated by ideas, is the “most powerful of all the arts.”[3] A young John Dewey wrote “The various fine arts, architecture, sculpture, painting, music and poetry are the successive attempts of the mind to adequately express its own ideal nature, or, more correctly stated, adequately to produce that which will satisfy its own demands for a love of a perfectly harmonious nature, something in which admiration may rest.”[4] The ordering of the arts is not accidental; poetry is above music, especially dramatic poetry, as it “consummates…the range of fine arts, because in dramatic form we have the highest ideal of self, personality displaying itself in the form of personality … beyond this art cannot go.”[5] Forty years later in Art and Experience Dewey returns to the idea of ranking the arts, but by then his views had changed. He presents the very fact that Schopenhauer even thought to rank the arts as evidence of “a complete failure of philosophy to meet the challenge that art offers reflective thought.”[6] By 1931 Dewey is no longer willing to give any art form pride of place among the arts.
The question I want to take up is the place of poetry in the arts: specifically does it hold pride of place either as the telos of art, or the essence of art, or at least as deserving special consideration among the arts. I will look at Dewey’s theory of poetry and how he argues that it does not hold a philosophically distinctive place and contrast it with Hans-Georg Gadamer’s theory about “the essential priority of poetry with respect to the other arts.”[7] Martin Heidegger may have expressed the view most dramatically when he claimed that “the essence of art is poetry”[8] but, as in so many other cases, it is Gadamer who fully articulates it and locates it in the history of philosophy. Finally I will argue with Gadamer that poetry does have a distinctive place among the arts, and poetry is particularly useful for helping us understand the arts in general. The key to this argument is seeing that language, especially poetic language, is not first a foremost a tool, not even, as Dewey writes, the “tool of tools.”[9]



I. Dewey’s Understanding of Poetry among the Arts



Of course what Dewey is known most for is arguing against distinguishing art from other areas of life. In Art as Experience it is the continuity among the arts, and above all the continuity of aesthetic experience and everyday experience, that takes the fore. He argues that were we to understand life as practical through and through, as we should, “then would disappear the separations that trouble present thinking: division of everything into nature and experience, of experience in practice and theory, art and science, or art into useful and fine, menial and free.”[10] Poetry, for Dewey, holds no special status, though it can still be analyzed separately from the other arts.

Dewey sees the distinction between fine art and useful art as falling away once we realize the common anthropological roots of the two categories. All arts develop in order to emotionally mark significant objects or experiences to enable them to be better communicated across people and over time. The role of fine art always arises within the practical needs of life; it does not transcend them. Therefore, with respect to poetry, Dewey says “words serve their poetic purpose in the degree in which they summon and evoke into active operation the vital responses that are present whenever we experience qualities.”[11] The qualities of an experience are those that provide the unity to the experience; poetry becomes a way to communicate these qualities, in the process generating an experience. In doing so, poetry brings to attention features of the experience that may be particularly useful for our ongoing adaptation to our environment. It is “the emotional kindling of reality, which is the true province of poetry;”[12] poetry “radiates the light that never was on land and sea but that henceforth is an abiding illumination of objects.”[13] Of course this same illuminating and attention-grabbing function might be played by prose as well as poetry, the difference between the two being that:

One of them [prose] realizes the power of words to express what is in heaven and earth and under the seas by means of extension; the other [poetry] by intension. The prosaic is an affair of description and narration, of details accumulated and relations elaborated. It spreads as it goes like a legal document or catalogue. The poetic reverses the process. It condenses and abbreviates, thus giving words an energy of expansion that is almost explosive.[14]



It is its energy—especially its spontaneous energy—that gives poetry its significant character as art and distinguishes it from prose, but for Dewey it shares that energy with other




Conclusion:


Often the small differences are the most illuminating ones. Dewey’s and Gadamer’s theories of art share much in common; they disagree, however, on the classic question of how the arts should be ranked, or, in Dewey’s case, whether they should be ranked at all. It turns out that behind the disagreement lies a significant difference as to how they see our relationship to language, and this difference leads them to competing theories of poetry. Siding with Gadamer that language is not merely a tool, but a fundamental way in which the world is disclosed to us, I think Gadamer is right that poetry both holds pride of place among the arts and is exemplary of the disclosive power of all language
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http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/derek-walcott-tiepolos-hound

Derek Walcott: Tiepolo’s Hound
Year
2005
After Omeros proved his mastery of the epic poem in 1990, and even after the 1992 Nobel Prize in Literature fortified his place among the great writers of the world, Derek Walcott couldn’t distract the still-diligent and meticulous craftsman in him from completing yet another masterpiece. Tiepolo’s Hound, published in 2000, is a book-length poem that combines the stories of two painters—told in verse—with Walcott’s own watercolor and oil paintings.

Written entirely in alternately rhymed couplets, the imagery of Tiepolo’s Hound is informed by the landscapes of St. Thomas, St. Lucia, and Paris, while the story of the poem follows two narratives: one of the Caribbean-born painter Camille Pissarro, the other of Walcott himself, taking up the persona of a poet and failed painter. Pissarro’s great urge in the book is to move to Paris to pursue his painting career, a journey Walcott describes with an Impressionist’s vivid, delicate sensibility. Meanwhile, the Walcott character recalls a painting he saw when he was a young man visiting New York City:


“On my first trip to the Modern I turned a corner,
rooted before the ridged linen of a Cèzanne. ”

“A still life. I thought how clean his brushes were!
Across that distance light was my first lesson. ”

“I remember stairs in couplets. The Metropolitan’s
marble authority, I remember being”

“stunned as I studied the exact expanse
of a Renaissance feast, the art of seeing. ”

“Then I caught a slash of pink on the inner thigh
of a white hound entering the cave of a table, ”

“so exact in its lucency at The Feast of Levi,
I felt my heart halt. ”

The perfectly rendered hound captures the poet’s imagination—even as Walcott tells Pissarro’s story, the hound is a recurring presence, a reference point throughout the book. Though Walcott searches for it his entire life, he is unable to find the painting again—a symbol of Walcott’s unfulfillment as a painter, the object of a pursuit that has eluded him.

Despite this realization, the parallels between Pissarro and Walcott are numerous. Both have Caribbean origins, both are artists, and both, through self-exile, are interminably tied to their homeland. St. Thomas follows Pissarro—as does Walcott’s St. Lucia—to Paris by more than its name alone:


“Doubt was his patron saint, it was his island’s,
the saint who probed the holes in his Saviour’s hands”

“(despite the parenthetical rainbow of providence)
and questioned resurrection; its seven bright bands. ”

“Saint Thomas, the skeptic, Saint Lucia, the blind
martyr who on a tray carried her own eyes, ”

“the hymn of black smoke, wreath of the trade wind,
confirming their ascent to paradise. ”

Ultimately, Tiepolo’s Hound is about the relationship of painting and writing. Language and image aren’t conflicting media but complement one another. With sharp attention to color, architecture, and the movement of the eye, Tiepolo’s Hound opens with these lines:


“They stroll on Sundays down Dronningens Street,
passing the bank and the small island shops”

“quiet as drawings, keeping from the heat
through Danish arches until the street stops”

“at the blue, gusting harbour, where like

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-02-2014, 09:54 AM
Continued...--Tyr
---------------------------------------------------------------




http://www.authorama.com/the-poetics-2.html


Aristotle (384 BCE-322 BCE)

Aristotle on the Art of Poetry: 1


Our subject being Poetry, I propose to speak not only of the art in general but also of its species and their respective capacities; of the structure of plot required for a good poem; of the number and nature of the constituent parts of a poem; and likewise of any other matters in the same line of inquiry. Let us follow the natural order and begin with the primary facts.

Epic poetry and Tragedy, as also Comedy, Dithyrambic poetry, and most flute-playing and lyre-playing, are all, viewed as a whole, modes of imitation. But at the same time they differ from one another in three ways, either by a difference of kind in their means, or by differences in the objects, or in the manner of their imitations.

I. Just as form and colour are used as means by some, who (whether by art or constant practice) imitate and portray many things by their aid, and the voice is used by others; so also in the above-mentioned group of arts, the means with them as a whole are rhythm, language, and harmony—used, however, either singly or in certain combinations. A combination of rhythm and harmony alone is the means in flute-playing and lyre-playing, and any other arts there may be of the same description, e.g. imitative piping. Rhythm alone, without harmony, is the means in the dancer’s imitations; for even he, by the rhythms of his attitudes, may represent men’s characters, as well as what they do and suffer. There is further an art which imitates by language alone, without harmony, in prose or in verse, and if in verse, either in some one or in a plurality of metres. This form of imitation is to this day without a name. We have no common name for a mime of Sophron or Xenarchus and a Socratic Conversation; and we should still be without one even if the imitation in the two instances were in trimeters or elegiacs or some other kind of verse—though it is the way with people to tack on ’poet’ to the name of a metre, and talk of elegiac-poets and epic-poets, thinking that they call them poets not by reason of the imitative nature of their work, but indiscriminately by reason of the metre they write in. Even if a theory of medicine or physical philosophy be put forth in a metrical form, it is usual to describe the writer in this way; Homer and Empedocles, however, have really nothing in common apart from their metre; so that, if the one is to be called a poet, the other should be termed a physicist rather than a poet. We should be in the same position also, if the imitation in these instances were in all the metres, like the Centaur (a rhapsody in a medley of all metres) of Chaeremon; and Chaeremon one has to recognize as a poet. So much, then, as to these arts. There are, lastly, certain other arts, which combine all the means enumerated, rhythm, melody, and verse, e.g. Dithyrambic and Nomic poetry, Tragedy and Comedy; with this difference, however, that the three kinds of means are in some of them all employed together, and in others brought in separately, one after the other. These elements of difference in the above arts I term the means of their imitation.


Continue...

Preface • Aristotle on the Art of Poetry: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26

This complete text of the The Poetics book by Aristotle, translated by Ingram Bywater, with a preface by Gilbert Murray, is in the public domain. This page has been created by Philipp Lenssen. Page last updated on April 2004. Complete book.
Authorama - Classic Literature, free of copyright. About...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-02-2014, 07:57 PM
Time, Cuts Like A Knife

Would I perish in this onrush of racing time
if so would that be a gentle mercy or a crime
Dying one travels a sad mystery called Death
should one fight death until that last breath

Is love truly the fullfillment of the great Law
or just a futile recording of all that we saw
Hush and a sweet wind will grace your life
wash away the worries and constant strife

Sleep well from exhaustion as a faithful goal
satisfaction that greatly enhances the Soul
Fill your life with many very worthwhile deeds
sow goodness with many compassionate seeds

All things are temporary in this very short life
time awaits no man while it cuts like a knife

R.J. Lindley
11/23/1983

Note: Thirty one years ago I in this write saw some of my future about to unfold.
A damn shame that most men do not follow that which they know is the right path...-Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-04-2014, 09:41 AM
The Harlot and The Fool


She a sultry vixen bought love with her cries
he, the scoundrel , ate her up with his eyes
Sexy curves just so right on a body so lean
world called her princess, he called her Jean!

Nights of tossing gold dust upon her bedroom door
she weeping so , so profusely begging for more
Never outright selling her hot steamy pleasure
men eagerly offering their lives and treasure!

Blue ribbons adorning her hair of woven gold
market mastering as her secret wares were sold
Customers lined castles just to see her glow
offering gold and gems to see her sexy show!

She a queen that ruled in the realm of desires
wrapped in gold and silk stoked the many fires
Dreams offered in sexy body and sweet low moans
her victims , lost in fantasy and sexual groans

A prince appeared to whisk the goddess away
he, the scoundrel , could not make her stay
Her parting words, bitter arrows cutting his pride
good night sucker, bring more gold, get another ride!

02, 23, 1985 Robert J. Lindley

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-04-2014, 11:27 PM
A lesson learned.. Sent in this poem to another much larger publishing site and was asked to allow a few minor changes-by way of suggestions , on my poem submitted. I thought no big deal--so it takes it from a perfect sonnet--10 syllables per line . I did wonder why the poetry expert asking me about making changes before they presented it -thought nothing of destroying the syllable perfect count but was in a mood so ok'ed it.

Now after seeing it presented with the changes I deeply regret agreeing to the changes.

I am presenting both versions here. For comparison --

First the edited, revised , suggested version... I dislike now. -Tyr




River Laps Softly

The ripples of water lap river's edge
quietly I sit, a man seeking love
The orange twilight stirs my lonely soul
nearby, the moan of a single dove

Sweetest place, roaring river churns
fish splashing about in a soft replay
Continuance as the world slowly turns
colors splash endings to a wonderful day

The smell of fish, water and mud
cool air spreading its soft relief
Comfort given to stop anger in my blood
as nature’s gifts, a most calming belief

Soon its quiet, knowledge enters my soul
Victory came because I made it so

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This is the original, perfect sonnet version... -Tyr

River Laps Softly

The ripples of water lap river's edge
quietly I sit, a man seeking love
The orange twilight stirs my lonely soul
nearby, lonely call of a single dove

Sweetest place roaring river moans and churns
fish splashing about in a soft replay
Continuance as the world slowly turns
colors splash endings to wonderful day

The smell is that of fish , water and mud
cool air spreading its greatest soft relief
Comfort gives to stop anger in my blood
as Nature gifts a most calming belief

Soon its quiet , knowledge enters my soul
Victory came because I made it so

Poem Syllable Counter Results

Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 101
Poem Syllable Counter, Count Poem Syllables, Count Syllables in a Poem, Count Syllables, Syllable Counter
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I will never allow another editted version of any of my poems unless its one I came up with for a good reason myself.
I still have no memory of why I said yes to the suggested changes. This was about 3 or 4 weeks ago ....
I remember replying about 2 or 3 am to the request. I must have been off in another world when I did so..

As is now obvious my original version is better and it being in perfect syllable count is of great importance. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-05-2014, 09:30 AM
Prose written by Carrie Richards..
Usually I am not that big on prose but sometimes I find awesome renderings that impress me..
This is one that did that.. And struck me also because we have a fiery Kathleen here that strikes me as
an exceptional person!-Tyr



Lady Kathleen


She pours the brewed, hot cup of tea, as we relax here in the shade
Honeysuckle vines encircle the posts, of the old screened porch
Webs of daddy long-legs, glisten in the afternoon light, and I listen, intensely
while she nonchalantly chatters, telling me stories,..as if they were ordinary tales

True life adventures, that I can't imagine, but yes......they are real

She crossed an ocean, saw war, in action,
A life of adventure, of hardship, of courage, of fear
Yet, nothing revealed, to hint of the years
that have weathered her crinkles nor dampened her cheer

Inside the house, the counter is a clutter, piled high with dishes
The old floor is sticky, and dog hair floats in prisms of light
One old hound sleeps in the middle of the worn kitchen rug.
Another lame Labrador laps water from a pie tin,
dripping water from his sloppy face across the peeling checkered floor.

Throughout the house, a lingering musky smell of well loved pets,
and a stale, smoky odor of burnt toast from her attempt at breakfast.
Servants, cooks, gardeners, part of a long ago past.
The house is filled with dust covered, belongings
History fills each corner to mingle, along with the dust motes that linger in air

Junk mail, newspapers, dog treats, documents and clippings
prized antiques and artifacts, ......just facts of life, from how she sees them

On every shelf, and on the walls, are sepia-hued photographs
Famous faces I have seen, on the news, and on the screen

A handsome young man, and she was his bride
A commander when the world took sides
She followed him to the ends of the earth.
And soon will gladly follow him to the grave

I sit here now,...with this woman of many lives.
Like one of the flowers on her porch, she wears a tattered, splattered dress.
Today, she is a homespun, country widow.
An extraordinary woman, this grand Duchess,
yet now who bears traits of Ma Kettle
She brought class, dignity, and a wealth of knowledge
to our small country neighborhood,....... to my life.
Here we are, together, so far from the world she once knew.
We sit in the shade of her covered porch
A long haired, grey cat jumps into her lap.
Under the veil of a summer day
I pour her another cup of tea, and a little more for myself.
Tea is served, flavored with lemon....I have much more to drink in.....to savor.


__________________________________________________ ______
A True Character....dear /Friend/and Neighbor (Kathleen Maitland) now deceased
Whose husband was an aviation pioneer
The most amazing couple I have ever known
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lester_J._Maitland
Revised 10/21/14 For Guatami's Contest: Sketch a Character

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-07-2014, 08:41 AM
Death, You Do Not Win


The world has been unkind to me
yet there's no where, no where to flee.
I'll sit and take it if I must
for all return to earthly dust.

To cry will do no worldly good.
Defy with spirit, as I should.
A loss that cannot be replaced
yet life must once again be faced.

So here I sit and wonder how
to stop the gloom which eats me now.
Can it be slain with greater love
or only healed by God above?

Once, anger always worked for me
but now, this time decides to flee.
Yet I seek not its quick return
true folly that my Soul shall spurn!


Robert J. Lindley, 10-05-2014

Note : Contest
Giorgio A. V.
Contest Name Structured forms - Iambic verse III
You may select between Iambic tetrameter, pentameter, hexameter, heptameter (quatorzain), royal rhyme, blank verse and decapentasyllabic verse. Poems composed with different Iambic forms are accepted as well. Just specify the Iambic forms you have used, beneath the poem.

Form chosen , Iambic tetrameter.

CONTEST NOW JUDGED

This poem written in Iambic tetrameter took third place. After reading the first and second place poems I agree with that result.
I judged those better myself. Third place is great when considering the quantity and caliber of the poets that wrote for the Top-gun Poetry Contest. A great many are already published poets...
I am especially happy this write placed so high in the contest as it was about the death of my brother-in-law recently.
I usually do not care to do Iambic verse as I favor a less structured approach.
One that gives the writer more leeway to express their message. --TYR

NT'sGirl
11-07-2014, 12:31 PM
This was written by my 16 year old just after her Uncle passed and his best friend was drowning in his hurt with alcohol.
Love this kid.


Stay Awake, Poetry by Veronica
I would pay a thousand prices for honesty
Give everything to have you see
That the appropriate response
Is not to dig your own grave with the same shovel
Yes, it's true, and I'm sorry
He's gone, and it hurts
More than the Little Monster
Digging itself into your torso
Facing Little Monster is hard
Fighting is beyond your capacity
Giving in to Numbness
Is brief sweet serenity
Numb only holds for so long
And when Numb gives out
It hurts worse than it ever had before
Little Monster gnawing away
Soon you become so lost in being Numb
That Little Monster uses Numb as a blindfold
Traps you in it, wraps you in it
Salvation is a cage
To ignore your cage
You burrow deeper into Numb
Your blindfold is thickened
Web spins tighter, and you gave it the silk
But something inside is screaming
Little Memories are screaming their names and their stories
Even though some of the Voices are too shrill, and too new, and they hurt
You smile despite yourself
A switch flips, and you remember your existence beyond Numb
Wriggling, you fight
Grasping you begin to claw your way out
But the climb is harder
Climbing takes more than you think you have to give
Little Memories screaming in your ear,
Little Monster babies biting at your will
But you fight
You fight and you fall because that's HOW YOU DO IT
You WILL slip, but the part about slipping is that
It's NOT another fall
Unless you let it be
YOU choose whether or not to fall back into the silken dream of Numb
YOU make the world around you
Make an upward climb level
And teach Little Memories to SING
Don't beat your Memories down for hurting you
Accept the hurt as another part of happiness
Don't lock yourself away from Numb
Accept Numb as a part of Awake
Don't let go
Make peace
Don't fall deep into Numb for someone who left
Stay Awake for the people they've left here
Numbness is only a day
Waking is an eternity

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-08-2014, 08:08 AM
This was written by my 16 year old just after her Uncle passed and his best friend was drowning in his hurt with alcohol.
Love this kid.


Stay Awake, Poetry by Veronica
I would pay a thousand prices for honesty
Give everything to have you see
That the appropriate response
Is not to dig your own grave with the same shovel
Yes, it's true, and I'm sorry
He's gone, and it hurts
More than the Little Monster
Digging itself into your torso
Facing Little Monster is hard
Fighting is beyond your capacity
Giving in to Numbness
Is brief sweet serenity
Numb only holds for so long
And when Numb gives out
It hurts worse than it ever had before
Little Monster gnawing away
Soon you become so lost in being Numb
That Little Monster uses Numb as a blindfold
Traps you in it, wraps you in it
Salvation is a cage
To ignore your cage
You burrow deeper into Numb
Your blindfold is thickened
Web spins tighter, and you gave it the silk
But something inside is screaming
Little Memories are screaming their names and their stories
Even though some of the Voices are too shrill, and too new, and they hurt
You smile despite yourself
A switch flips, and you remember your existence beyond Numb
Wriggling, you fight
Grasping you begin to claw your way out
But the climb is harder
Climbing takes more than you think you have to give
Little Memories screaming in your ear,
Little Monster babies biting at your will
But you fight
You fight and you fall because that's HOW YOU DO IT
You WILL slip, but the part about slipping is that
It's NOT another fall
Unless you let it be
YOU choose whether or not to fall back into the silken dream of Numb
YOU make the world around you
Make an upward climb level
And teach Little Memories to SING
Don't beat your Memories down for hurting you
Accept the hurt as another part of happiness
Don't lock yourself away from Numb
Accept Numb as a part of Awake
Don't let go
Make peace
Don't fall deep into Numb for someone who left
Stay Awake for the people they've left here
Numbness is only a day
Waking is an eternity


A truly impressive write for a teenage. Actually it is an impressive write were she an adult IMHO.
She should be encouraged to write and to write more..
Her talent is there and all it needs is nurturing , time and experience...
I suggest that she perhaps she consider joining a poetry site and submit here work. A good one will give great educational feedback and experience! -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-08-2014, 09:21 AM
http://www.biography.com/people/lord-byron-21124525


Lord Byron Biography

Poet, Playwright (1788–1824)
Quick Facts
Name Lord Byron Occupation Poet, Playwright Birth Date January 22, 1788 Death Date April 19, 1824 Place of Birth London, England, United Kingdom Place of Death Messolonghi, Greece AKA George Gordon Byron Lord Byron 6th Baron Byron Full Name George Gordon Noel Byron


Lord Byron is regarded as one of the greatest British poets and is best known for his amorous lifestyle and his brilliant use of the English language.
1 of 5 quotes
“Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.”

—Lord Byron

Synopsis

Born in 1788, Lord Byron was one of the leading figures of the Romantic Movement in early 19th century England. The notoriety of his sexual escapades is surpassed only by the beauty and brilliance of his writings. After leading an unconventional lifestyle and producing a massive amount of emotion-stirring literary works, Byron died at a young age in Greece pursuing romantic adventures of heroism.


Early Life

Born George Gordon Noel Byron on January 22, 1788, Lord Byron was the sixth Baron Byron of a rapidly fading aristocratic family. A clubfoot from birth left him self-conscious most of his life. As a boy, young George endured a father who abandoned him, a schizophrenic mother and a nurse who abused him. As a result he lacked discipline and a sense of moderation, traits he held on to his entire life.

In 1798, at age 10, George inherited the title of his great-uncle, William Byron, and was officially recognized as Lord Byron. Two years later, he attended Harrow School in London, where he experienced his first sexual encounters with males and females. In 1803, Byron fell deeply in love with his distant cousin, Mary Chaworth, and this unrequited passion found expression in several poems, including "Hills of Annesley" and "The Adieu."

From 1805 to 1808, Byron attended Trinity College intermittently, engaged in many sexual escapades and fell deep into debt. During this time, he found diversion from school and partying with boxing, horse riding and gambling. In June 1807, he formed an enduring friendship with John Cam Hobhouse and was initiated into liberal politics, joining the Cambridge Whig Club.


Early Travel and Writing

After receiving a scathing review of his first volume of poetry, Hours of Idleness, in 1808, Byron retaliated with the satirical poem "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers." The poem attacked the literary community with wit and satire, and gained him his first literary recognition. Upon turning 21, Byron took his seat in the House of Lords. A year later, with John Hobhouse, he embarked on a grand tour through the Mediterranean Sea and began writing "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," a poem of a young man's reflections on travel in foreign lands.

In July 1811, Byron returned to London after the death of his mother, and in spite of all her failings, her passing plunged him into a deep mourning. High praise by London society pulled him out of his doldrums, as did a series of love affairs, first with the passionate and eccentric Lady Caroline Lamb, who described Byron as "mad, bad and dangerous to know," and then with Lady Oxford, who encouraged Byron's radicalism. Then, in the summer of 1813, Byron apparently entered into an intimate relationship with his half sister, Augusta, now married. The tumult and guilt he experienced as a result of these love affairs were reflected in a series of dark and repentant poems, "The Giaour," "The Bride of Abydos" and "The Corsair."

In September 1814, seeking to escape the pressures of his amorous entanglements, Byron proposed to the educated and intellectual Anne Isabella Milbanke (also known as Annabella Milbanke). They married in January 1815, and in December of that year, their daughter, Augusta Ada, better known as Ada Lovelace, was born. However, by January the ill-fated union crumbled, and Annabella left Byron amid his drinking, increased debt, and rumors of his relations with his half sister and of his bisexuality. He never saw his wife or daughter again.

more at

http://www.biography.com/people/lord-byron-21124525

He interests me because he was strong in intellect but so very weak in virtue. Yielded to his carnal desires with abandon and so often said, "to hell with the world and its values". I myself, went thru a long period like that and wrote during that many years long period over 25 short stories and about 340 poems.. Most deliberately destroyed by a very vindictive ex-wife that refused to give them back to me unless I remarry her. I refused, she burned them. Stone cold fox or not I simply could not stay with her and her drug addiction. -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-08-2014, 09:48 AM
Climbing That Hill

Slowly I climbed that silent hill
just to sit in solitary thought
Desperation fights against my will
destroying all the mercies bought

As I crest that hill to summit high
a calm feeling washes all over me
No more shall I seek mercy to buy
it has been sent in all that I see

A stand of mighty oaks looming tall
so many birds singing all around
This majestic wonder gifted to us all
Nature's blessings so eagerly found

Whip-poor-wills singing to early morn
hidden so cleverly on the wet ground
I muse, happy just to have been born
paying homage with such loving sound

Robert J. Lindley

--------------------------------------------------------

This poem was written many decades ago but only recently submitted into a Poetry contest
--Theme was Solitude and Awakenings..

It took 8th place in a very stiff competition and yes I think after reading the other entries
It should have placed no less than second or third place. However placing in the top ten in that
competition is an honor..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-08-2014, 06:00 PM
Read this and it was so funny I just had to post it..
A post and commentary from a poetry critics site.. :laugh:--Tyr




"Can Poetry Matter?"
by
Stephen Dobyns

Heart feels the time has come to compose lyric poetry.
No more storytelling for him. Oh, Moon, Heart writes,
sad wafer of the heart's distress. and then: Oh, Moon,
bright cracker of the heart's pleasure. Which is it,
is the moon happy or sad, cracker or wafer? He looks
from the window but the night is overcast. Oh, Cloud,
he writes, moody veil of the Moon's distress. And then,
Oh, Cloud, sweet scarf of the Moon's repose. Once more
Heart asks, Are clouds kindly or a bother, is the moon sad
or at rest? He calls scientists who tell him that the moon
is a dead piece of rock. He calls astrologers. One says
the moon means water. Another that it signifies oblivion.
The girl next door says the Moon means love. The nut
up the block says it proves Satan has us under his thumb.
Heart goes back to his notebooks. Oh, Moon,, he writes,
confusing orb meaning one thing or another. Heat feels
that his words lack conviction. Then he hits on a solution.
Oh, Moon, immense hyena of introverted motorboat.
Oh, Moon, upside down lamppost of barbershop quartet.
Heart takes his lines to a critic who tells him that the poet
is recounting a time as a toddler when he saw his father
kissing the baby-sitter at the family's cottage on a lake.
Obviously, the poem explains the poet's fear of water.
Heart is ecstatic. He rushes home to continue writing.
Oh, Cloud, raccoon cadaver of colored crayon, angel spittle
recast as foggy euphoria. Heart is swept up by the passion
of composition. Freed from the responsibility of content,
no nuance of nonsense can be denied him. Soon his poems
appear everywhere, while the critic writes essays elucidating
Heart's meaning. Jointly they form a sausage factory of poetry:
Heart supplying the pig snouts and rectal tissue of language
which the critic encloses in a thin membrane of explication.
Lyric poetry means teamwork, thinks Heart: a hog farm,
corn field, and two old dobbins pulling a buckboard of song.

(from Pallbearers Envying the One Who Rides, 1999)


"Poetry is not a code to be broken but a way of seeing with the eyes shut." -- Linda Pastan

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-09-2014, 12:02 PM
Wrote this early this morn. And yes, I did see the humor in it now but it was also a damn rough young life too.
Hope it brings a smile to somebody. As even I got a laugh out of my early ten bitching about chores..
Life, if we didn't laugh about much of it we would have to cry more!--Tyr


Sawing Firewood For My Dad, Again

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so very cold,
so get it done before we all grow old."

Boys, don't gripe, somebody got to do it
so hurry up and get right on to it
Winter is coming on and lickety-split
we need that firewoood before it hits

Early morning hours before going to school
sawing damn firewood, sure wasn't cool
Getting tired and sweaty wasn't any fun
stacking newly cut firewood by the ton!

A boy of fourteen truly does not care
to pull a damn crosscut saw anywhere
If his washing dishes wasn't bad enough
now this job, it was sho' nuff tough

Working two hours before school was bad
four more after school made one really mad
Curse this damn wood and this damn life
hickory ain't butter, this saw aint a knife!

Someday, I'll get a real fine job then
get myself rich like so many other men
Fancy myself with riches and a beautiful wife
curse this damn wood and this damn life

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so very cold,
so get it done before we all grow old."

Stop yelling, we sawing to beat the band
want any better, get another slaving hand
We cut and stack this crap all the time
pay is lousy, not even one thin dime

Big bro' pulling on the saw's other end
laughing at me , with that damn silly grin
"Little bro', stop bitching you're wasting spit
nothing to change so lets get on with it."

Another one, urging me to be a working fool
when grown man I'll be nobody's damn tool
Gonna get me that money and a life of ease
lay about, do just as I damn well please!

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so very cold,
so get it done before we all grow old."

Early morning hours before going to school
sawing damn firewood, sure wasn't cool
Getting tired and sweaty wasn't any fun
stacking newly cut firewood by the ton!

Robert J. Lindley, 11-09-2014

note: Special thanks to my friend Sara Kendrick for this concept
and inspiration. Inspired by her new contest theme....
Written about my young life and some of its hardships.
Usually writing a sonnet comes so easily to me but when starting
this write this blew right on out of me. Definitely not
a sonnet as was her contest requirement , so its not an entry in
that competition.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-09-2014, 09:58 PM
Had time to write for another contest..
This dark poem warns of living with abandon and embracing a lustful life ....


Plea From A Dark Soul


Weep not in the sun for me
my wasted life spent in vain
by death I did flee,
all but my shadow dwelt in pain

Utter not proud words for me
years of drunken whoring feasts
by death I did flee,
feeling no love, set loose my beasts

Deny not the fate I did earn
in my own just Hell to endure
by death I so return,
leaving a black heart so impure

Cry not over my burial urn
my deeds harvested bitter fruits
by death I so return,
to anguish in my dark roots!

Robert J. Lindley 11-09-2014

note: Written from a dream, rather a nightmare
that I had recently. As the darkness closed in the
screams grew louder, the pain stronger and the heartaches
shouted for more agony.. Singe this sinner's hide with pain
that makes the angels cry..
A voice speaks out, tis only the start , we have ages and ages to increase
the torment and pain.
Time serves us this sweet delight , this lost soul now lives within our eternal night!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-10-2014, 07:43 PM
Mermaids - Poetry Contest


Sponsor Suzanne Delaney
Contest Name Mermaids
Enter Poetry Contest
Deadline 6/30/2014 12:00:00 AM
Note From Sponsor No updates yet...
Contest Description
Mermaids are celebrated in verse and art from time immemorial. For this contest I want to hear your stories…. in a poetic form that weaves the most magical tale about these alluring creatures with a fantastic fish tail. What to Submit?

You can use the first person and become a mermaid

The Mermaid
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson 1809-92

'Who would be a mermaidfair,
singing alone, combing her hair,
Under the sea, in a golden curl,
with a comb of pearl,
On a throne?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My entry.. Tis' not easy to write in poetic narrative form...I took this one on as a challenge and it came out well. Taking 4th place in such a stiff contest with so very many entries by published poets was indeed a great honor.. And on my first attempt at this narrative form no less..


The Mermaid's Rescue

A lost and lone survivor of a sunken warship
back into conciousness the sailor finally did slip
All alone in the vast, vast empty water prairie
fleeting thoughts of home and his sweet Marie!

Hazy, crazy thoughts swirled in his aching head
had he not drowned , O' why was he not dead
Memories of being saved by an unseen guiding force
O' but what a song , what a beautiful angelic voice!

Visions soon appeared for his mind's eye to see
of a beautiful creature rising to his rescue pleas
Hair of radiant gold lying lovingly upon breasts bare
a swimming angel appeared ever so swiftly there!

Now waking upon this small and desolate rock
feverish and deep in the throes of a tragic shock
Suddenly hearing voice began to softly, sweetly sing
his spirit , soul healed so quickly that voice did bring!

Searching eagerly across the shining ocean's waves
for a mysterious hero that did desperate lives save
A wished for vision soon appeared at the water's edge
a mere dozen feet from the jutting rock's lower ledge!

The same beautiful face he saw in his vision's haze
the magical creature he now knew his life had saved
One even prettier than his cherished, loving wife Marie
now it's entire form he could astonishingly see!

A Mermaid ! Heavens how could such vision truly be
strange tales, fictional legends of very magical seas
Could this have been answer to his desperate pleas
a vision so tempting that his faithful heart it did tease!

Singing stopped and that voice began to clearly speak
telling he had been fast asleep for an entire week
A rescue ship would be arriving there that very day
as it appears I must say goodbye and swim away!

Final hours his Mermaid and he did pleasantly share
he in awe of her glory, her sexy body and golden hair
So many amazing stories of many a daring rescue feat
telling of rescues where sister Mermaids even compete!

Suddenly that promised ship raced coming in so fast
sailor knew this was his only chance, his very last
Please, he asked, will you give me a good-bye Mermaid kiss
wished granted , Mermaid vanished into the deep, blue abyss!

Rescued and now safely aboard his miracle life-saving ship
his story told and nary a miraculous part did he dare to skip
His tale he told to all that sat amazed at his strange ordeal
so mythical and strange, even he wondered was it truly real!

Robert L. 05-29-2014

AWARDED 4TH PLACE...

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-10-2014, 08:53 PM
Arrogant Fools With Hollow Eyes


Those arrogant fools with hollow eyes
dark clouds blocking sunny skies
So ready to decry our natural rights
scheme and plot dirty little fights

This world hails such loud fools
there cheap words are but dirty tools
Seeking to destroy brave, honest men
as they wallow in their filthy pig pen

Yet men are blinded to their deeds
such snakes slither hiding in the weeds
O' sons of freedom raise your banners
fight this evil beast, teach it manners

Those arrogant fools with hollow eyes
dark clouds blocking sunny skies
So ready to decry our natural rights
scheme and plot dirty little fights
Shall they now reap a just reward?
justice delivered so very swift and hard!

Robert J. Lindley, 11-10-2014

Note: Written AS A PERSONAL CHALLENGE FROM A VERY GOOD POET FRIEND OF MINE ON ANOTHER POETRY SITE CHALLENGED
ME TO WRITE THIS POEM ABOUT THE POLITICAL DOINGS OF THE CURRENT CROP OF TRAITORS INFESTING THIS NATION AND THE WHITEHOUSE.
Will post it there later this week and stir some blather about me being so intolerant.. :laugh:
I named no person or group but I know exactly who and what group will be ever so critical of this write.. -:laugh:--Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-12-2014, 08:09 PM
As Darkness Spreads Its Wings

Night sky, no moon can you see
blackness sits and abounds
Blocked by massive old tree
the mysteries on these grounds

Shadows streaking here and there
deep within this darkness dwells
A walking dead , grieving pair
envied by prisoners in all the hells

Forbidden to enter those dark gates
doomed to haunt this lonely place
Rejected by the evil Furies fates
each wearing a sardonic face

Shrill laughs chase their trails
as darkness spreads its wings
A new victim, it never fails
dies painfully as that pair sings

Night sky, no moon can you see
blackness sits and abounds
Blocked by massive old tree
the mysteries on these grounds

Robert Lindley, 11-12--2014
note : Written AS REQUESTED BY A POET FRIEND.
A DARK AND SCARY MYSTERY UNSOLVED AND AWAITING A PART TWO TO EXPLAIN THE MEANING..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-13-2014, 10:37 PM
Daddy's Poem

Her hair was up in a pony tail,


Her favorite dress tied with a bow.


Today was Daddy's Day at school,


And she couldn't wait to go.



But her mommy tried to tell her,


That she probably should stay home.


Why the kids might not understand,


If she went to school alone.



But she was not afraid;


She knew just what to say.


What to tell her classmates


Of why he wasn't there today.




But still her mother worried,


For her to face this day alone.


And that was why once again,


She tried to keep her daughter home.



But the little girl went to school


Eager to tell them all.


About a dad she never sees


A dad who never calls.




There were daddies along the wall in back,


For everyone to meet.


Children squirming impatiently,


Anxious in their seats



One by one the teacher called


A student from the class.


To introduce their daddy,


As seconds slowly passed.



At last the teacher called her name,


Every child turned to stare.


Each of them was searching,


A man who wasn't there.



'Where's her daddy at?'


She heard a boy call out.


'She probably doesn't have one,'


Another student dared to shout.




And from somewhere near the back,


She heard a daddy say,


'Looks like another deadbeat dad,


Too busy to waste his day.'



The words did not offend her,


As she smiled up at her Mom.


And looked back at her teacher,


Who told her to go on.



And with hands behind her back,


Slowly she began to speak.


And out from the mouth of a child,


Came words incredibly unique.




'My Daddy couldn't be here,


Because he lives so far away.


But I know he wishes he could be,


Since this is such a special day.




And though you cannot meet him,


I wanted you to know.


All about my daddy,


And how much he loves me so.



He loved to tell me stories


He taught me to ride my bike.


He surprised me with pink roses,


And taught me to fly a kite.



We used to share fudge sundaes,


And ice cream in a cone.


And though you cannot see him.


I'm not standing here alone.





'Cause my daddy's always with me,


Even though we are apart


I know because he told me,


He'll forever be in my heart'




With that, her little hand reached up,


And lay across her chest.


Feeling her own heartbeat,


Beneath her favourite dress




And from somewhere here in the crowd of dads,


Her mother stood in tears.


Proudly watching her daughter,


Who was wise beyond her years.



For she stood up for the love


Of a man not in her life.


Doing what was best for her,


Doing what was right.





And when she dropped her hand back down,


Staring straight into the crowd.


She finished with a voice so soft,


But its message clear and loud.




'I love my daddy very much,


he's my shining star.


And if he could, he'd be here,


But heaven's just too far.




You see he is a Canadian soldier


And died just this past year





When a roadside bomb hit his convoy


And taught Canadians to fear.


But sometimes when I close my eyes,


it's like he never went away.'


And then she closed her eyes,


And saw him there that day.





And to her mothers amazement,


She witnessed with surprise.


A room full of daddies and children,


All starting to close their eyes.





Who knows what they saw before them,


Who knows what they felt inside.


Perhaps for merely a second,


They saw him at her side.





'I know you're with me Daddy,'


To the silence she called out.


And what happened next made believers,


Of those once filled with doubt.





Not one in that room could explain it,


For each of their eyes had been closed.


But there on the desk beside her,


Was a fragrant long-stemmed rose.


And a child was blessed, if only for a moment,


By the love of her shining star.


And given the gift of believing,


That heaven is never too far.


Author unknown.... was sent to me this week in my email by a poet friend....
Seems very timely considering recent bad news we have had .....

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-17-2014, 11:04 AM
My latest contest write.. A sonnet on lost love.
Personal experience drawn upon and life's lessons found. -Tyr



Your Love, My Every Thought


Send me to the pastures ripe, lush and green
nestled nearby a stand of mighty Oaks
In sight of placid shimmering lake scene
never been disturbed by boat splashing strokes

There I may soon see the wonderous sky
feel the breeze settle my tormented mind
All about feathered creatures sing and fly
embrace all woodland glory I may find

Beauty brings soft memories of you
flowers rivaling your soft flowing hair
Fresh newborne leaves sprouting out so new
my mind soon rested and without a care

I wonder how the hell all came to nought!
When your love races in my every thought

Robert Lindley, 11-16-2014

Note:
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 103

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-17-2014, 10:28 PM
Another sonnet but this one is written for a friend that requested one on Nature at my poetry forum.

After The Storm, Rebirth

Storm has torn the majestic forested scene
as ravaged are the shrubs on high hills
Surviving birds yet sing and calmly preen
unmindful of last night's ripping thrills

Trees now broken, toppled at Nature's behest
all forested tranquility yet to be restored
Nature shook violently and did its very best
lakes many boats sunk where they moored

From this destruction new life shall reign
savage death brings on creation's birth
Beauty shall come with all that we see plain
earth renews the landscape for all its worth

I see with these renewing things a greater plan
All that teaches life's lessons to the heart of man

Robert J. Lindley, 11-17-2014

Inspired by Gry's Christensen's poem , "Brewing Sunsets In Teapots"
that I read early this morn.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-22-2014, 06:12 PM
She Eats Hearts and Worlds

In this world life stands still
heartache chokes in for the kill
Sidewalk leaps up to quickly slay
Fools racing all about every day

That pain sets just so damn well
she that strode from the gates of hell
Tarnishing all that gave in love
her sex fits tightly, like a glove

Those nights did so hotly soothe
she the sexy vixen so damn smooth
Always naked and steaming ready to go
no man could resist the sexual show

In her world you gladly die to play
such delights , pure passion every way
Then roofs came loudly crashing down
death came with smiles and no damn frown!

Robert J. Lindley.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-22-2014, 09:41 PM
From my good friend and fellow poet Paul Callus,
a Quatern submitted for a newly sponsored contest..

Here he paints war with the weather(constant , torrential rain). A comparison I suspect the rain gave him when he was there long ago.. --Tyr


Rain over Vietnam


There is the calm before the rain
It’s almost silent all around
The clouds expectant in the sky
Foreboding birds are homeward bound.

The soldiers stare at looming clouds
There is the calm before the rain
And yet there’s tension in the air
Will all this waiting be in vain?

They know the feeling well enough
The sun gets left out in the cold
There is the calm before the rain
They have to be prepared and bold.

The sound of planes will soon be heard
Torrential bombs will fall again
But ‘til the heavens burst in floods
There is the calm before the rain.

-----------------------------------------------------------
Inspired by the song “Have you ever seen the rain?”
Sung by Credence Clearwater Revival.
With underlying reference to the Vietnam War.
-----------------------------------------------------------

Rock N' Roll Contest sponsored by Kelly Deschler.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-23-2014, 11:39 AM
Composed today by request from a poetess at my poetry site.
Posting here first while I mull over any changes that may need to be made..-Tyr





The Birds, They Were So Silent


I raced away early one bright morn,
running in clouds so very fleet
The birds, they were so silent
deathly stiff on a frozen icy sheet

Crossing bridge to glimmering lake
no worries, time was on my side
My charms would do me right
in this was my everlasting pride

I will find my lover's heart
bruised and battered it may be
As sure as life is a sweet fountain
my words shall bring her again unto me

I'll kiss her hands and her pretty feet
she will sway into my loving arms
A vision of pure heavenly delight
again falling for my arrogant charms

Our lives now by guile reunited
time will flow like a raging flood
The Love of My Lusting Desires,
shall live and eat in my blood

Summers shall be our playtime
winters for hot steaming nights
Time will yield to my magic
as my love sees wondrous sights

In the depths of this dream
she shall obey my hot desires
As I step from the dark shadows
to set ablaze her deepest fires

No heartaches , no terrible worries
life and love sets its steady pace
No tears shall ever fall across
the beauty of her loving face

Dancing into my long aching arms
into this sweet dream she shall dwell
No harm will I allow to visit her
as I seal shut the dark Gates of Hell

She will love me all the more
as we step into another golden realm
Sea shall envy her growing beauty
as I sail this ship steady at the helm

The ages crack into this deep mirror
joys are now so viciously denied
She now doubts my deep, slavish love
as my jealousy exposes my darkest pride

When time brings in its destroyer
love may stop cold in its track
I am but a love lost dreamer
thrown down upon my broken back

Yet again, look into my heart's mirror
the dream I made come alive for you
There is such goodness in this fantasy
you my life, your love governs all I do

I stand at this scary precipice
your hand is my greatest want
Love sends its everlasting glory
except when it mercilessly don't

You my darling hold the lasting key
late in this dream time stands still
My desires are as shallow nothings
measured against your true loving will

I raced away early one bright morn,
running in clouds so very fleet
The birds, they were so silent
deathly stiff on a frozen icy sheet

Robert J. Lindley, 11-23-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-23-2014, 03:32 PM
Hear Me , My Lover, Please Sail On Back

Close the door, put out the cat
a rough ride, are we in for that
Sling the covers off the brass bed
we need no heat we got sex instead

Let our hands seal this sweet deal
your slay me with that sex appeal
Sexy transparent gown you may now put on
my love as hard as an elephant bone

Your love is my world wrapped in gifts
your smile sings and so uplifts
Longing for you day and hot night
your naked body, O' my, what a sight

The moon cries for your beauty so loud
hiding its paleful light in a shroud
Forests cry out with their dying wood
your body they'd steal if they only could

Across the lake where we first laid
is the spot our love was first made
O' glorious day, flowers at our feet
blessed spot if only we could still meet

So long ago that you sadly sailed away
never knew why you couldn't stay
Some family issue was all I ever knew
such misery the dark day I lost you

I can cry but never dare to forget
that blue dress, how your body it fit
Each memory sends me into heartaching pain
shall I ever hope to see you again

You thats more fair than any flower
as cool as a nice Spring shower
Hair that flows all about your cheeks
we lay naked in bed for all those weeks

Last week I dreamed of your return
my lust kindled and ravagely did burn
Now I hold onto that very slim hope
why the hell didn't we just elope

Brings me back to how you went away
darkness falling on that miserable day
Blues wrapping me in their viselike grip
hell that burst forth as my heart did rip

Hear me , my lover, please sail on back
put our love so sweetly back on track
Then, close the door, put out the cat
a rough ride, yes we are in for that
Sling the covers off our big brass bed
need no heat, we have our hot love instead!

Robert J. Lindley, 11-23-2014

Note- A new poem , written today for a contest but may not enter it
as I have an much older one a bit hotter from back in 1991.
Will have to compare the two with the Sponsor's requirements and decide later.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-26-2014, 10:35 AM
Sunshine Eats Its Armor


Night is an old fish
deep in a dark sea
racing ever upward,
emerging into light

slow to eat more
yet steady as she goes
ever changing its tails,

seeking life anew
anticipating,
a future never known,

breaking against all
speeding into a mist
longed for by many,
desires on every list

Night is a new fish
racing down to flee
sunshine eats its armor
deep, dark it wants to be

Robert J. Lindley

note: A little free verse tonight(I rarely ever do). Even as I try, poetic rhyme still sneaks in..
like a dog chasing a juicy bone..lol

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-27-2014, 12:31 AM
Untitled, first half of a collaboration write.
Jake Ponce to write second half.. asked me to lead off so
he could build on it.. -Tyr



Dark travels in such a long life
early days of hungering strife
A child born to fight for it
tasting ton of salt in every spit

Years sinking past like a slow tide
no softness, that one could abide
As years sent life into a dark spin
easy came toughness, pain and sin

Then came love trying its very best
softness, weakness in every test
Blade drawn to parry each thrust
to live on never daring to trust

A weak moment, hell bore on down
life melted, each day a new frown
Love had been accepted with grace
she left without a path to trace

Sad night , the fight no great cause
clocks stopped, universe hit pause
Time yielded no forgiving reprieve
love lost, nothing , nothing to retrieve

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-27-2014, 12:50 PM
November Chills Remind Me



As November chill creeps in
I think of June and a friend
Sun beaming so eagerly down
our spot at the edge of town

Silent moments holding me
to a time and her pitiful plea
O' that this day last forever
and my love leave me never

She saw farther than I
the thought made her cry
I thought her so wrong
right she was all along

Clime cooled and so did we
leaves fell from our tree
October faded swiftly away
Parted on a chilly November day

November chills I think of her
so gone, I know not where
Shall June ever come again
will ever I see my friend

Sun shines down upon my Soul
keeping her should have been my goal.

R.J. Lindley 09, 11, 1976


note: Tomorrow will be two weeks and no new writes by me.
That is other than my private writings at home..
Found this in a old poetry book tucked in a chest with
divorce papers from my first wife.
Seemed fitting to present it because , well its November now.

Answer, no never saw her again. She moved away, I lost contact.
Life sent its distractions and the universe spun ever onward..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-28-2014, 10:06 AM
Author: Prose of Edgar Allen Poe , Type: Prose

Intensos rigidam in frontem ascendere canos
Passus erat
Lucan

--a bristly bore.

Translation


"LET us hurry to the walls," said Abel-Phittim to Buzi-Ben-Levi and Simeon the Pharisee, on the tenth day of the month Thammuz, in the year of the world three thousand nine hundred and forty-one- "let us hasten to the ramparts adjoining the gate of Benjamin, which is in the city of David, and overlooking the camp of the uncircumcised; for it is the last hour of the fourth watch, being sunrise; and the idolaters, in fulfilment of the promise of Pompey, should be awaiting us with the lambs for the sacrifices."
Simeon, Abel-Phittim, and Buzi-Ben-Levi, were the Gizbarim, or sub-collectors of the offering, in the holy city of Jerusalem.
"Verily," replied the Pharisee, "let us hasten: for this generosity in the heathen is unwonted; and fickle-mindedness has ever been an attribute of the worshippers of Baal."
"That they are fickle-minded and treacherous is as true as the Pentateuch," said Buzi-Ben-Levi, "but that is only towards the people of Adonai. When was it ever known that the Ammonites proved wanting to their own interests? Methinks it is no great stretch of generosity to allow us lambs for the altar of the Lord, receiving in lieu thereof thirty silver shekels per head!"
"Thou forgettest, however, Ben-Levi," replied Abel-Phittim, "that the Roman Pompey, who is now impiously besieging the city of the Most High, has no assurity that we apply not the lambs thus purchased for the altar, to the sustenance of the body, rather than of the spirit."
"Now, by the five corners of my beard!" shouted the Pharisee, who belonged to the sect called The Dashers (that little knot of saints whose manner of dashing and lacerating the feet against the pavement was long a thorn and a reproach to less zealous devotees- a stumbling-block to less gifted perambulators)- "by the five corners of that beard which, as a priest, I am forbidden to shave!- have we lived to see the day when a blaspheming and idolatrous upstart of Rome shall accuse us of appropriating to the appetites of the flesh the most holy and consecrated elements? Have we lived to see the day when-"
"Let us not question the motives of the Philistine," interrupted Abel-Phittim, "for to-day we profit for the first time by his avarice or by his generosity, but rather let us hurry to the ramparts, lest offerings should be wanting for that altar whose fire the rains of heaven cannot extinguish, and whose pillars of smoke no tempest can turn aside."
That part of the city to which our worthy Gizbarin now hastened, and which bore the name of its architect, King David, was esteemed the most strongly fortified district of Jerusalem; being situated upon the steep and lofty hill of Zion. Here, a broad, deep, circumvallatory trench, hewn from the solid rock, was defended by a wall of great strength erected upon its inner edge. This wall was adorned, at regular interspaces, by square towers of white marble; the lowest sixty, and the highest one hundred and twenty cubits in height. But, in the vicinity of the gate of Benjamin, the wall arose by no means from the margin of the fosse. On the contrary, between the level of the ditch and the basement of the rampart, sprang up a perpendicular cliff of two hundred and fifty cubits, forming part of the precipitous Mount Moriah. So that when Simeon and his associates arrived on the summit of the tower called Adoni-Bezek- the loftiest of all the turrets around about Jerusalem, and the usual place of conference with the besieging army- they looked down upon the camp of the enemy from an eminence excelling by many feet that of the Pyramid of Cheops, and, by several, that of the temple of Belus.
"Verily," sighed the Pharisee, as he peered dizzly over the precipice, "the uncircumcised are as the sands by the seashore- as the locusts in the wilderness! The valley of The King hath become the valley of Adommin."
"And yet," added Ben-Levi, "thou canst not point me out a Philistine- no, not one- from Aleph to Tau- from the wilderness to the battlements- who seemeth any bigger than the letter Jod!"
"Lower away the basket with the shekels of silver!" here shouted a Roman soldier in a hoarse, rough voice, which appeared to issue from the regions of Pluto- "lower away the basket with the accursed coin which it has broken the jaw of a noble Roman to pronounce! Is it thus you evince your gratitude to our master Pompeius, who, in his condescension, has thought fit to listen to your idolatrous importunities? The god Phoebus, who is a true god, has been charioted for an hour- and were you not to be on the ramparts by sunrise? Aedepol! do you think that we, the conquerors of the world, have nothing better to do than stand waiting by the walls of every kennel, to traffic with the dogs of the earth? Lower away! I say- and see that your trumpery be bright in color and just in weight!"
"El Elohim!" ejaculated the Pharisee, as the discordant tones of the centurion rattled up the crags of the precipice, and fainted away against the temple- "El Elohim!- who is the God Phoebus?- whom doth the blasphemer invoke? Thou, Buzi-Ben-Levi! who art read in the laws of the Gentiles, and hast sojourned among them who dabble with the Teraphim!- is it Nergal of whom the idolater speaketh?- or Ashimah?- or- Nibhaz?- or Tartak?- or Adramalech?- or Anamalech?- or Succoth-Benith?- or Dragon?- or Belial?- or Baal-Perith?- or Baal-Peor?- or Baal-Zebub?"
"Verily it is neither- but beware how thou lettest the rope slip too rapidly through thy fingers; for should the wicker-work chance to hang on the projection of yonder crag, there will be a woful outpouring of the holy things of the sanctuary."
By the assistance of some rudely constructed machinery, the heavily laden basket was now carefully lowered down among the multitude; and, from the giddy pinnacle, the Romans were seen gathering confusedly round it; but owing to the vast height and the prevalence of a fog, no distinct view of their operations could be obtained.
Half an hour had already elapsed.
"We shall be too late!" sighed the Pharisee, as at the expiration of this period, he looked over into the abyss- "we shall be too late! we shall be turned out of office by the Katholim."
"No more," responded Abel-Phittim,- "no more shall we feast upon the fat of the land- no longer shall our beards be odorous with frankincense- our loins girded up with fine linen from the Temple."
"Raca!" swore Ben-Levi, "Raca! do they mean to defraud us of the purchase money? or, Holy Moses! are they weighing the shekels of the tabernacle?
"They have given the signal at last!" cried the Pharisee- "they have given the signal at last!- pull away, Abel-Phittim!- and thou, Buzi-Ben-Levi, pull away!- for verily the Philistines have either still hold upon the basket, or the Lord hath softened their hearts to place therein a beast of good weight!" And the Gizbarim pulled away, while their burthen swung heavily upwards through the still increasing mist.


"Booshoh he!"- as, at the conclusion of an hour, some object at the extremity of the rope became indistinctly visible- "Booshoh he!" was the exclamation which burst from the lips of Ben-Levi.
"Booshoh he!- for shame!- it is a ram from the thickets of Engedi, and as rugged as the valley of Jehosaphat!"
"It is a firstling of the flock," said Abel-Phittim, "I know him by the bleating of his lips, and the innocent folding of his limbs. His eyes are more beautiful than the jewels of the Pectoral, and his flesh is like the honey of Hebron."
"It is a fatted calf from the pastures of Bashan," said the Pharisee, "the heathen have dealt wonderfully with us!- let us raise up our voices in a psalm!- let us give thanks on the shawm and on the psaltery- on the harp and on the huggab- on the cythern and on the sackbutt"
It was not until the basket had arrived within a few feet of the Gizbarium, that a low grunt betrayed to their perception a hog of no common size.
"Now El Emanu!" slowly, and with upturned eyes ejaculated the trio, as, letting go their hold, the emancipated porker tumbled headlong among the Philistines, "El Emanu!- God be with us- it is the unutterable flesh!"

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-28-2014, 09:14 PM
Every Dog Starts As A Surly Cur


Earth seeds its own laments
worn shepherds in torn tents
Sheep living in deep sleep
a tramp never earns his keep

Lone tree shades bare ground
hare rests but not the hound
Path sets so many hideous traps
children need more long naps

Adults seek much more pleasure
ignoring love's greatest treasure
Always more power grows deeper mad
selfish desires fertilize the bad

Earth bears its bitter fruit
dog puppies, so soft and cute
Man races he knows not where
every dog starts as a surly cur

Robert J. Lindley... 2014

Remnants from an unfinished poem below , the year was 1977.
No recollection of writing it or what the specific subject matter
was--most likely a bad relationship that effected my writing
that night--drank a lot back then.. too much..

Shades of pain , deepen my muse
her touches I quite happily use
She that burns intensely my brain
drink, drink in her frothy rain
Cut her deeply to feel the bleed
she moans as it sings in her need.....

Thoughts eat into this tired brain
hell with this lonesome strain
Cut her up this very dark night
enjoy, enjoy the blood in this light....

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-28-2014, 10:34 PM
Just finished this new contest poem. Contest requirements forced me to limit it to just these few lines(20). --Tyr

A Christmas Snow
(Snowy Childhood Delights)


Snow covered the land and every rooftop
blasts of glowing white never going to stop
Cold gusts moved the white flurries all about
kids looking out the windows began to shout

Please, please , let us go out to play
O' mother it is a truly wonderful day
I promise to wear a heavy coat and hat
outside is where the white heaven is at

Soon yards where full of girls and boys
round snow balls were new and great toys
Snowmen soon joined the happy little gangs
Sadly warming was needed from the frozen pangs

Inside the sight was of wondrous glee
as hot chocolate warmed each little tree
With more snow falling came shouts of joy
pure delight in every little girl and boy

Out they ran all in uniform, perfect time
shouts of joy were as beautiful rhyme
Snow played its spiritual, ordained blessing
a fantastic day, each child was confessing


Robert J. Lindley, 11-28-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-30-2014, 06:13 PM
The Shield of Achilles

W. H. Auden, 1907 - 1973

She looked over his shoulder
For vines and olive trees,
Marble well-governed cities
And ships upon untamed seas,
But there on the shining metal
His hands had put instead
An artificial wilderness
And a sky like lead.

A plain without a feature, bare and brown,
No blade of grass, no sign of neighborhood,
Nothing to eat and nowhere to sit down,
Yet, congregated on its blankness, stood
An unintelligible multitude,
A million eyes, a million boots in line,
Without expression, waiting for a sign.

Out of the air a voice without a face
Proved by statistics that some cause was just
In tones as dry and level as the place:
No one was cheered and nothing was discussed;
Column by column in a cloud of dust
They marched away enduring a belief
Whose logic brought them, somewhere else, to grief.

She looked over his shoulder
For ritual pieties,
White flower-garlanded heifers,
Libation and sacrifice,
But there on the shining metal
Where the altar should have been,
She saw by his flickering forge-light
Quite another scene.

Barbed wire enclosed an arbitrary spot
Where bored officials lounged (one cracked a joke)
And sentries sweated for the day was hot:
A crowd of ordinary decent folk
Watched from without and neither moved nor spoke
As three pale figures were led forth and bound
To three posts driven upright in the ground.

The mass and majesty of this world, all
That carries weight and always weighs the same
Lay in the hands of others; they were small
And could not hope for help and no help came:
What their foes like to do was done, their shame
Was all the worst could wish; they lost their pride
And died as men before their bodies died.

She looked over his shoulder
For athletes at their games,
Men and women in a dance
Moving their sweet limbs
Quick, quick, to music,
But there on the shining shield
His hands had set no dancing-floor
But a weed-choked field.

A ragged urchin, aimless and alone,
Loitered about that vacancy; a bird
Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone:
That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third,
Were axioms to him, who’d never heard
Of any world where promises were kept,
Or one could weep because another wept.

The thin-lipped armorer,
Hephaestos, hobbled away,
Thetis of the shining breasts
Cried out in dismay
At what the god had wrought
To please her son, the strong
Iron-hearted man-slaying Achilles
Who would not live long.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
11-30-2014, 07:06 PM
Her Hair, Flows So Pleasantly Wild


Her hair , was flowing so pleasantly wild
she beautiful mother of our child
Her perfume had that sexy, soothing scent
I pray , with her my life will be spent

Her voice, sends in me those special chills
adore her curves that give me such hot thrills
Time, with her is always my greatest treasure
pray for more, all that God will measure

Her skin is smooth, slightly ever so tan
as she holds me as her only forever man
A walk that starts my loving heart to race
so hotly sexy yet still full of heavenly grace

Her love, eternity could never send any better
a blessing gifted, how did I ever get her

Robert J. Lindley 11-30-2014

note: A sonnet dedicated to my beautiful and loving wife..
Mother of our son and the kind of wife every decent man
longs for. Just ten more days until our tenth wedding
anniversary..
I am thus blessed..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-01-2014, 12:03 AM
When I think of the tyrant we have now pressing us under a newly formed yoke I think of these two great writes...
First by Rudyard Kipling and second one by Philip Freneau.


Cold Iron

Gold is for the mistress -- silver for the maid --
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.
"Good!" said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
"But Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of them all."

So he made rebellion 'gainst the King his liege,
Camped before his citadel and summoned it to siege.
"Nay!" said the cannoneer on the castle wall,
"But Iron -- Cold Iron -- shall be master of you all!"

Woe for the Baron and his knights so strong,
When the cruel cannon-balls laid 'em all along;
He was taken prisoner, he was cast in thrall,
And Iron -- Cold Iron -- was master of it all!

Yet his King spake kindly (ah, how kind a Lord!)
"What if I release thee now and give thee back thy sword?"
"Nay!" said the Baron, "mock not at my fall,
For Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of men all."

Tears are for the craven, prayers are for the clown --
Halters for the silly neck that cannot keep a crown.
"As my loss is grievous, so my hope is small,
For Iron -- Cold Iron -- must be master of men all!"

Yet his King made answer (few such Kings there be!)
"Here is Bread and here is Wine -- sit and sup with me.
Eat and drink in Mary's Name, the whiles I do recall
How Iron -- Cold Iron -- can be master of men all!"

He took the Wine and blessed it. He blessed and brake the Bread,
With His own Hands He served Them, and presently He said:
"See! These Hands they pierced with nails, outside My city wall,
Show Iron -- Cold Iron -- to be master of men all."

"Wounds are for the desperate, blows are for the strong.
Balm and oil for weary hearts all cut and bruised with wrong.
I forgive thy treason -- I redeem thy fall --
For Iron -- Cold Iron -- must be master of men all!"

Crowns are for the valiant -- sceptres for the bold!
Thrones and powers for mighty men who dare to take and hold.
"Nay!" said the Baron, kneeling in his hall,
"But Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of men all!
Iron out of Calvary is master of men all!"


Rudyard Kipling
-------------------------------------------------------

Eutaw Springs


At Eutaw Springs the valiant died;
Their limbs with dust are covered o'er;
Weep on, ye springs, your tearful tide;
How many heroes are no more!

If in this wreck of ruin, they
Can yet be thought to claim a tear,
O smite thy gentle breast, and say
The friends of freedom slumber here!

Thou, who shalt trace this bloody plain,
If goodness rules thy generous breast,
Sigh for the wasted rural reign;
Sigh for the shepherds sunk to rest!

Stranger, their humble groves adorn;
You too may fall, and ask a tear:
'Tis not the beauty of the morn
That proves the evening shall be clear.

They saw their injured country's woe,
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear--but left the shield.

Led by thy conquering standards, Greene,
The Britons they compelled to fly:
None distant viewed the fatal plain,
None grieved in such a cause to die--

But, like the Parthian, famed of old,
Who, flying, still their arrows threw,
These routed Britons, full as bold,
Retreated, and retreating slew.

Now rest in peace, our patriot band;
Though far from nature's limits thrown,
We trust they find a happier land,
A bright Phoebus of their own.

Philip Freneau
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope the reader can make the same connectiion that I did. --Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-02-2014, 10:23 AM
A Single Soul Cries Out

Across this barren lake my ghost did sail
lost and heading straight into another hell
Behind remnants of a dark and wayward past
treasures stored that shall never last

Sunny skies ever looking down upon me
joined by those memories my soul sought to flee
No wind to send my ghost sailing right along
on the shore images of a faceless throng

So far ahead a welcoming white, sandy beach
forever racing farther and farther from my reach
No deeds to perform to gain my deep reprieve
only memories of those I so easily did deceive

Within this lonely lake a single Soul cries out
forgive me , forgive me , in a wailing shout!

Robert Lindley

note: Once a man raced about all alone,
stumbled upon a rolling stone,
fell into a headlong dismay,
gathered the courage to just pray,

Words that did by faith then atone,
soon the condemnation was forever gone..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-04-2014, 08:45 AM
Myself, Armed Only With A Dying Flame


Dark travels in such a long life
early days of hungering strife
A child born to fight for it
tasting ton of salt in every spit


Lost on pathways that breathe my aches
Prod me restless as I sever the chase
Between day and night and promises I made
To myself, armed only with a dying flame


Days sinking past like a slow tide
no softness, that one could abide
As years sent life into a dark spin
easy came toughness, pain and sin


I have seen more than I ever could
Branches of bitterness carved deeply in wood
Wandering eyes dismissed them as facades of a man
Who fell victim to the ride as the years fell down


Is there saving grace if I stop at none
I may have foreseen it all but I doubted I’d come
To terms with myself and make me turn around
From the edge of this cliff and fade away void of sound


Then came love trying its very best
softness, weakness in every test
Blade drawn to parry each thrust
to live on never daring to trust


Swiftly gone like a bygone air
I may be nothing more than despair’s heir
Constricted by premises that haunt every corner
Shutting my eyes will mean absolute surrender


A weak moment, hell bore on down
life melted, each day a new frown
Love had been accepted with grace
she left without a path to trace


Sad night , the fight no great cause
clocks stopped, universe hit pause
Time yielded no forgiving reprieve
love lost, nothing , nothing to retrieve


I was again left to remain
I have but myself to blame
When the rain comes to ease the pain
I know I’ll be whispering your name

12-3-2014

Collaboration write, Robert Lindley and my very talented friend and poet, Jake Ponce.
Here is hoping that you may enjoy this humble team effort .
Has been my great honor to write with my friend Jake!

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-05-2014, 11:58 PM
As I Hold Her Under This, Merciful God's Moon


Her heart sang, the tune broke my lost song
life without her, how did I ever get along
Clouds once loomed over my every long day
before she made me bow and silently pray

Please keep this dream in my lost life
remove this painful and life filled with strife
Let her dance and sing another sweet tune
as I hold her under this, merciful God's moon

Hold time back as I find a miracle now
give me wisdom to find out just how
To win her heart to join with this lost soul
her love and life is my blessed newfound goal

I pray that this new branch bears sweet fruits
as we seal our fate and our tree sets firm roots!

Robert J. Lindley

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-07-2014, 06:40 PM
Written for a contest...--Tyr

Man's Quest For A Greater Future

Sunken man, a mystery in the making
earth gives and gives to we so selfishly taking
Blue sky, giving color to a tired, hectic life
time to sit to rest , to break from daily strife

Shattered homes, they decay as we flee
racing into a future we imagine , so rarely ever see
Earth eats up , the mess we so often make
shouldn't man rest, rest from all the greed and take

Parched and dry ground, foundation we need
as we cut and stab we see not all the terrible bleed
Mother earth a bounty, yes, tis Heaven sent
we must stop, enjoy before all earthly beauty is spent

A rest, a hope, before onward we often so foolishly race
We that take too much and rarely ever bother to replace!

Robert Lindley, 12-07-2014

Inspired and written based upon the second picture given in the contest rules and requirements.

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-09-2014, 11:56 AM
Here is my poem on the topic of the great lie being used by Obama and crew on the death of the "I cant breathe man".
On my poetry site one Hollyweird poet (I CAN NOT STAND HER AND HER POETRY STINKS TOO) commented on her blog that ALL we poets should write poems condemning this travesty and the gestapo tactics cops are using against black men.
I THEN IMMEDIATELY WROTE THIS POEM.
IT HIGHLIGHTS THE LIE AND POINTS OUT THE TRUTH.
Judging from the responses I get there it pissed off a great many fools that jumped on the Obama bandwagon.
And that was my intent, so mission accomplished for me.

Here is my poem...


I Can't Breathe

I can't breathe when truth is choked out
can not stand by and not toss truth with a shout
I can't fathom the mind it does take
to ignore truth and race onward with a fake

Story that is so easy to rightly disprove
promote a lie to get going such a violent move
Anything goes to run such a political scam
I reject this fraud with all that I am

Win battles with truth as your shield
deceitful tactics will never force right to yield
A man dies, find out the true medical cause
spinning yarns gives decent folks time to pause

Ponder the reason hatred thrives on bold lies
Hate finds fertile ground whenever truth dies

Robert Lindley 12-08-2014

note. An honest person, a person with integrity will
find the truth before joining the bandwagon of lies.
Sad that a man died because of a stupid law but dying because
of bad health issues is not murder by police. Truth is
no choke hold was used.
"I can't breathe truth did so moan,
darkness gloats as light has now gone
Lying blade cuts like a razor knife,
wounds sought to stir hatred and strife!"

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-10-2014, 10:53 AM
Another poetry contest write..-Tyr

The Gunfighter Was Ready

The coach arrived engulfed in blowing dust,
this day carrying more than precious gold,
a gunfighter, his sending for was a must,
needed was a fighter wild, fast and bold.

Confident as he stepped into dirty street,
eyeing all around for any deadly threat,
looking for the lady he was to meet,
a job he took on a personal grudge and bet.

No nervous edge did he feel this day,
a calm resolve filled his icy veins,
find the lady , get his precious pay,
each deadly job building his earthly gains.

Early morning sun, gave a blinding glare,
as a beautiful lady stepped from the crowd,
keen senses felt her admiring stare,
well before her welcome rang out so loud.

First to invite this vision for a meal,
business could now be delayed,
her beauty set in him a strange new feel,
so different than the usual price he was paid.

Soon small talk shifted to what needed done,
three lives that fate called to be erased,
evil men, so fearsome they'd never run,
a task , quite deadly that must now be faced.

Details settled, the marks now must be shown,
each victim's soon to be shot and dying face,
falling to the gun-speed he had decades to hone,
no man ever matched his accuracy and swift pace.

With foolish bravado each man faced his threat,
first two were dispatched with the usual ease,
last one was the target of his personal bet,
a fast gunfighter, fate so often did please.

Day came, the sun beamed in a brilliant sky,
he could finish the personal job he sought,
there was a reason , none knew the reason why,
this last gunfighter had now been caught.

That morn as the town clock struck nine,
speeding bullet did end the evil life,
joy returned , all was now so fine,
man dead, that had long ago killed his wife.

Last payment he waved away with a smile,
this course he had set so long ago,
accomplished with dedication, speed and guile,
sun shone brightly as galloping away he did go.

Robert J. Lindley .

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-12-2014, 07:28 AM
Light or Dark, We Choose To See


We that cry for so very much more
always fear opening of death's door
Images of sickle and bony face
death's image we can not erase

Steps taken into a cavern dark
a journey we fear to embark
Eyes shut, the light then flees
prayers given on bended knees

Shall we ,

Dance to the music of misty dawns
celebrate the beauty of newborn fawns
Join in Nature's majestic treasure
stroll the woods and never measure
The beauty of that calming sound
from the depths of Nature's holy ground

Or,

Simply remember to sincerely praise
the joy Life and Nature will forever raise
Songs in our hearts that so richly give
paradise glimpses while we yet live.

Robert J. Lindley, 12-12-2014

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-14-2014, 11:15 PM
"Whispers Of Your Soul"

Like a dream the mystic wind floats down
covering the heart in a velvet soft gown
The sweetest music plays as it settles in
shining eternal love like long lost friend

Those whispers sing a deep comforting tune
soul sends the words and rejoices then
As wisps of tender tunes give godly advice
the heart sings, finding the gift so nice

Heartache and misery must then take heed
whispers advise to meet rightly each need
Soft the echoes that ring brilliantly true
aS light of ones soul shine easily through

Whispers of your soul comfort in love
from deep within to your life up above

Robert J. Lindley

Written for a new contest. Will consider a few changes and enter this later next week.
I am thinking about making it longer and going away from the sonnet form used now .

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-15-2014, 09:12 AM
Here is my poem on the topic of the great lie being used by Obama and crew on the death of the "I cant breathe man".
On my poetry site one Hollyweird poet (I CAN NOT STAND HER AND HER POETRY STINKS TOO) commented on her blog that ALL we poets should write poems condemning this travesty and the gestapo tactics cops are using against black men.
I THEN IMMEDIATELY WROTE THIS POEM.
IT HIGHLIGHTS THE LIE AND POINTS OUT THE TRUTH.
Judging from the responses I get there it pissed off a great many fools that jumped on the Obama bandwagon.
And that was my intent, so mission accomplished for me.

Here is my poem...


I Can't Breathe

I can't breathe when truth is choked out
can not stand by and not toss truth with a shout
I can't fathom the mind it does take
to ignore truth and race onward with a fake

Story that is so easy to rightly disprove
promote a lie to get going such a violent move
Anything goes to run such a political scam
I reject this fraud with all that I am

Win battles with truth as your shield
deceitful tactics will never force right to yield
A man dies, find out the true medical cause
spinning yarns gives decent folks time to pause

Ponder the reason hatred thrives on bold lies
Hate finds fertile ground whenever truth dies

Robert Lindley 12-08-2014

note. An honest person, a person with integrity will
find the truth before joining the bandwagon of lies.
Sad that a man died because of a stupid law but dying because
of bad health issues is not murder by police. Truth is
no choke hold was used.
"I can't breathe truth did so moan,
darkness gloats as light has now gone
Lying blade cuts like a razor knife,
wounds sought to stir hatred and strife!"

Update on this poem and its reception at my poetry site.
I am now a pariah there.
Over 90% of those commenting on my many poems have now stopped.
Last two contests judged my poems not only didn't place but didn't even get an honorable mention and one of those contests placed every single poem entered in it except mine!
Of course I knew this would happen and knew most poets are very, very liberal. Yet I wrote the truth, presented the truth--with the ever present philosophy that when doing so the negative consequences be damned!
Suddenly my 17th place in the top one hundred best poets has dropped to 26th place since my offering that poem!
Usually it takes about 5 losses (loss =a zero placement) to lose one place in the top one hundred list, so my math tells me that to lose 9 placements I should have had 9x5=45 losses to now be downgraded to 26th place! Yet suddenly I get there with 2 losses ( no placements)..
Simply amazing how vindictive and swift to punish in any way the liberals are. Such shallow people and the author of that blog championing poems condemning the police leads the pack there.
I am not mad about it but disappointed that so many are that blinded and weak as to go along to get along--something I've never in my long life done. And that was the major reason I had so many fights in my life . I don't do any kind of PC TYPE CRAP and never will.
Live like that 100% and I promise you , you will either be in many ,many fights or else have to back down many, many times.
I never back down! I am just not made that way. A fact...
I now see that a great many Americans, most people in general are not only stupid but weak and shallow as well.
Which proves we are what we learn in life IMHO! -Tyr

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-18-2014, 05:47 PM
For Darkness I Now Plea


Harbinger of death,
bring ever sweet solace to me
Stop this pain,
end this bittersweet agony

Stay the hand ,
that breaks this bitter heart
Send this soul,
into everland for a new start

Another life ,
in another spiritual realm
A bright day,
joyful love not to overwhelm

Death bring thy ,
dark and deep eternal sting
Set it well,
hear me as I long to sing

Ye author of ,
life's great need to end
Demand anything ,
I have service to spend

Harbinger of death,
bring ever sweet solace to me
Stop this pain,
end this bittersweet agony

Robert Lindley, 08-21-1977

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-20-2014, 02:52 AM
I couldn't sleep. Woke up to write this tribute to my friend Gaffer..
O' that my words could do a greater justice to the honorable man but try I must.
Knowing it was coming did nothing to ease the pain . I read of his passing
at 5pm today and suddenly felt drained. Went to bed to sleep so early. Now awakened
to write.
I have been blessed to not only meet but be friends with several very great and honorable men in my life.
My friend, our Gaffer was one of those men. I shall miss him greatly and dearly hope to meet in another,
far better realm someday..


My Friend, I Shall Dearly Miss

Life is but a journey into time
happy or sad I write in rhyme
Fellow traveler I came to know
straight arrow, what a great show
Words and deeds he stood very tall
he that answered this nation's call
Fought in one hell of a bad war
yes, it left a helluva big scar
Yet his spirit was right as rain
I think of his life again and again

A shame we never met face to face
he so tough and firm with calming grace
Today marks his end, his earthly demise
a man of conviction oft so very wise

I shall miss our many friendly talks
as refreshing as were my Nature walks
A brave man I know as a true friend
great sadness rips me as I see his end
My Lord , I asked for his safe return
to your fold, a place he surely did earn

I remember his very wise words now
on life's troubles, on living, the how
Made clear, looking thru the revolving door
get more, using kind words and a two by four!

Robert Lindley, 12-20-2014

Note - Dedicated to my friend (Gaffer) I never met in person but felt I knew so well.
As we thought so very much alike, he so like an older brother. We shared a love for
this country and the honor now so very often abandoned.
The world lost a very, very good man today.

His family lost so much more. I pray our God rests his soul, comforts his family
and grants an eternity of bliss for one that served so well this nation.
My friend, a man I much admired ....now gone but not forgotten..

Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
12-22-2014, 10:34 AM
I rarely ever did prose poetry but here is one I found
written back in my mid-twenties.



A Darkened Path



l.
Into a dark hallway I pass through
rest relics of dead days and dark nights;
my body ever so sorely bruised, the pains
speed me onward into another realm,
gathering strength to fight this new abode
so like my imagined image of raging in hell


ll.
Down from nowhere flies rays of purple rage
a past deliverance from bygone age,
as those cuts soak my heart in saddened blood;
stones pile neatly around my deadened feet
a tribute to my callous heart and ways,
another justice blocking my desired path


lll.
A window opens into a shining room,
the glare sings out words that so shock,
my eyes see but my ears fail me now
as silence binds with words in the air;
death rests within the next door in my path

I that embraced rage with such delightful passion
find no comfort in this massive new fear,
a fruit of my dark days racing upon this earth
with hate in my heart and a mouth full of dirt

Robert Lindley,
1978