My new poems written for the Creative Writing Forum.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Ezazarus, Risen From The Dead

Ezazarus, your return does now so shock
life emerges from under a dark rock.
Yes, rest again in the peaceful shade
cut no more hearts with your evil blade.

No silver bullet shall ever you strike,
do just as you wish and so falsely like.
Yes, the glee is your addiction on rails
others felt pain and saw not your scales.

Why, why play such a morbid, dark game
is your heart not still grieving to maim?
Ah, the power to hurt others and deceive
such treachery is not genius to conceive!

Ezazarus, what have you so falsely gained
when your soul you've so desperately defamed?
A measure of fleeting time yet to squander
in that dark wasteland heap that you wander!

Robert Lindley , 1-23-2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

That Summer Heat That Stoked My Fires

There was that summer heat that stoked my fires-
Soft the winds blew, long the beauties reigned;
And then a dream came that burned in my desires,
Bringing on love that was real not feigned.
Hot sandy beach and an angel walking there,
One that swiftly entered my longing soul.
She was heaven with long flowing dark hair;
My brain cried, lets gamble, let the dice roll,
And fate granted my fevered wish that hot day.
For my boldness brought her hand to hold;
Days we spent within our dream, we did not stray,
Nor did we feel the winds that blow so cold.
Months of bliss, majestic nights under glowing moons-
Then without cause it all went to hell;
No more dancing, no more sweet musical tunes
Why it blew up, I to this day can not tell.

Hot summer dream ended and sadly so did our love-
Now to find that it was a beautiful fleeting grace,
I wonder was she, that angel, truly sent from above
To teach me in life, that great loss one must bravely face?

Robert J. Lindley, 1-25-2016

Note.-: Based upon a sad reality I faced as a young man
when I was still wet behind the ears... Ancient history....
Yet a memory burned in so deep.....

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Fading Memory, Remembered But Soon Gone

Where once your eyes saw my saddest light
Where once your heart begged for my kiss
Where once you loved me deeply at night
All of that and much more I dearly miss.

Your love you gave so very well for a time
Your touch you were so generous and free
Your laughter when I would repeat my rhyme
Your request for another poem about a tree.

All of that and so much more I dearly miss
Now time has taken you from my soft touch
Now time denies me your memories, my bliss
Now time sets to justly punish me this much.

I fall into this deep, dark and massive abyss
Where I shall forget all of our secret trysts!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-28-2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Until His Red-Heart Weeps

In his forest, the Indian avoided the trappings of the white men;
There his footfalls upon soft and clean, untouched virgin ground;
A place where his tired soul can finally reach ever deeper within;
Nature then generously gifts him its wonderful, wilded sound!
Each morn, Big Turtle rears its big, bright and shining head,
Casting light for his keen eyes to find game to provide his needs;
That hidden meal on hooves resting in its distant undercover bed,
In the thick of it, far out in the heavy brush and tall weeds.

As he travels down the long and winding fast river courses;
He scours the terrain for sites to set his Native water traps,
Day is hot and he races on without benefit of white man's horses,
Through and over tough obstacles never seen on white man's maps!
O' how his big heart so fervently loves this huge wilded place,
Where his freedoms are only limited by gathering his family's food;
He roams in Nature with no scary war paint upon his dark red face,
And now, his Native spirit and heart are in a calm and serene mood!

Unaware of the sad fate future holds for his family and his tribe;
This warrior wrestles only with meeting survival's high cost,
Soon evil white men will arrive to steal, lie, cheat and bribe,
Until his red-heart weeps, family dies and all is tragically lost!

R.J. Lindley
June 15th , 1989

Note:
1a. http://www.native-languages.org/legends-turtle.htm
Turtles play positive roles in the folklore of many Native American tribes. In the creation myths of some East Coast tribes (such as the Iroquois and Lenape), the Great Spirit created their homeland by placing earth on the back of a giant turtle. This is why some contemporary Native Americans refer to North America by the name "Turtle Island." Turtles are a symbol of the earth in many different Native cultures. To Plains Indians, turtles are associated with long life, protection, and fertility. In some Plains tribes, a newborn girl's umbilical cord was sewn into a figure in the shape of a turtle to ensure her health and safety. In other tribes, turtles are often associated with healing, wisdom, and spirituality.

2a. http://www.littlewolfrun.net/WyandotLegends.html
Big Turtle, A Wyandot (Huron) Legend
3. Scour | Definition of Scour by Merriam-Webster
www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/scour
transitive verb. 1a : to rub hard especially with a rough material for cleansingb : to remove by rubbing hard and washing. 2 archaic : to clear (a region) of enemies .

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Flightless Old Birds

Flightless Old Birds

I spill ink upon a most sadden page
life of youth was once all the rage
Good times were to readily be had
even a dull day was not all that bad
For each new morn brought renewed hope
nothing, nothing seem beyond our scope

This ink sets in its newborn form
tired words seem to be my new norm
A whisper and a cry rarely ever call
newborn days of hope I can not recall
Why does time eat thus at my soul
when more livin' was always my goal

Looking back I see ink spilt long ago
the energy was quick the heart aflow
Deep energetic words jumping all about
laughter and joy always loudly rang out
Love was rampant always in the mix
secret night moves our passionate fix

O' youth why venture so far astray
yes , you just had to have it your way!

Robert J. Lindley

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Revised- final version

Where Green Forests Wrap Desirous Land


Across the midnight divide in a shroud,
this soul sails upon glistening gold wings.
There with vanity and what pride allowed,
my seeking heart wanders along and sings.

Beneath snow covered summit my joy shouts
where green forests wrap the desirous land.
To find me, hire the greatest Native scouts
for I move on with the animal band.

Near to the sweetest flowing river's banks
each morn I rise to give eternal praise.
Give this, my Native American thanks,
escaped I, from dark cities wretched haze!

Deep in that huge divide my spirit dwells,
no longer enduring man's living hells.

Robert J. Lindley, 3-13 2016

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: 100

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Vision Appears

About her beauty in grey zones
The wind is whirling, and we seem
To hear its music as it drones,
Now loud, now soft as in a dream.
She bendeth like a willow tree
Swayed of the wind right joyously;
The purple blossoms overhead
Are dancing as they have no dread
Of the wild blast that blows her dress
Into a maze of loveliness,
And makes her black soft-lined hood
A welcome covert for her wise
And winsome face.
O, it were good
To give her shelter, watch her eyes
Laughing, and hear the noble way,-

Oh, how did that beauty flower
for it’s worthy rule that transcends
past nature’s force, as trees cower
before her crown, as she ascends
beyond the dreams of existence
with a gaze, so far off distance,
farther than the winds of silence,
her frail figure sways in defiance.
The reflection of her delight
sets her free from chains of life
in cadence with the tempest winds
as I weep in the willow’s shade.
Her sheltered life.
O, it were good
To let her blossom, watch her grow
to noble ends, her heart aglow.

Robert J. Lindley and Teppo Grén
Date: March 5th 2016

This has been a great honor for me, composing yet again with my good friend Teppo. And again, his closing verses make this poem, excellent free verse.
Sorry for not posting it on my page sooner Teppo.
Have been busy repairing my house after it flooding.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Farm Chores, They Sure Aren't A Glowing Parade

Brutal cold cut into young tender skin,
winter arrives with its hard cold and more.
No time to complain- NOT IF we are men,
farm child, time to wake, do the daily chores!

Up before the sun makes it first day's peep
into savage cold, hard cold, to morn's work.
Cutting blasts, such bitter cold one could weep,
we had best get it done, no time to shirk.

Chills eat into hungry brain this day,
no breakfast, working until cold-sun fades.
Why gripe, matters not whatever I say,
farm chores, they sure aren't a glowing parade!

Brutal cold cuts young tender skin this morn.
Such pain, methinks better not to be born!

R.J. Lindley
December 12th, 1965

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:
Total # Words: 112

Note: From my private journals.
My oldest surviving poem (a sonnet), written at age eleven.
And based upon my life on the farm and the very trying
hard times we lived and survived.
Edited slightly before posting to meet the uniformed
ten syllable count.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Life Gives Until Each Spirit Flies Away
(Letting Go )

Life gives until each spirit flies away
Every soul knows that death shall come someday
Tomorrow, stop enjoy life's blessed ride
Today, reaching deep, feel your soul inside
Inspiration flows from that sweet spirit
Not our selfish heart, God never hears it
God knows, we live for our selfish pleasures

Get that joyous happy, its your treasure
Our God- Love impossible to measure.


My pain lived in bad blood that darkly flows,
with that poison which ate away my heart,
living in darkness man can never knows,
why life hits with such hard and heavy blows

under sad, black clouds
darkest rain will someday fall
best shield is god's truth

Robert J. Lindley, 4-06-2016


Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 0 0 10 10 10 10 0 5 7 5
Total # Syllables: 147
Total # Lines: 20 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 110

-------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------
My entry for contest--- The Acrostic and the Quatrain written in ten syllable verses,
the senyru in 5-7-5 (as is required for a senyru) .
And hit my 110 word count too(not contest required). -Tyr

Poetry Contest Deadline: Saturday, April 30, 2016
14 poems of the maximum 35 allowed have been entered.
Sponsored by: Laura Loo

Contest Dealine:

4/30/2016 12:00:00 AM
Note from Sponsor:

No updates yet...
Contest Description:



For this contest I want you to write a poem Laura style. I have found a fun way to write a poem that includes three different forms of poetry. The theme for this contest is "Letting Go". There are three parts.

Part 1: An acrostic using the words "Letting Go" . The acrostic MUST have this rhyme scheme:

L-A

E-A

T-B

T-B

I-C

N-C

G-D



G-D

O-D



Part 2: One quatrain on the theme of "Letting Go" Must be rhyme scheme of : A - B - A - B


Part 3: A senyru on the theme of "Letting Go" (Syllable count of: 5-7-5)


Please label it as a VERSE

***IF YOU DON'T APPRECIATE MULTIPLE PLACEMENTS DON'T ENTER***

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Cool Winds Fiercely Blow, I Feel Those Deep Cold Chills.

Under darkest shade of tallest red elm out back
soundly shielded from glaring lights and old headstones
Resting in shadows, mother's food in my backpack
lost, so far away from damn ringing telephones.

My ragged-torn heart sheds its blistering dead skins
replacing with quiet and long reaching sweet dreams
Agony, quenched fear of my many past dark sins
the results of greedy and lustful blackened schemes.

In lazy and long imaginary repose,
soul's desires springing forth like a tiger on prey
Shady elm, that my tired beckoning spirit chose
sad, sad shame that you my friend, have nothing to say

Under shades of white oaks on far away black hills
cool winds fiercely blow, I feel those deep cold chills.

Robert J. Lindley, 8-21-2016
new version, previously was presented as old version 4-30-2016.


Syllables Per Line: 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12
Total # Syllables: 168
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 120

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Blackness Engulfs Rare Beauty Whose Soft Heart There Holds

Blackness engulfs rare beauty whose soft heart there holds
she that pretty flowers envy yet still dare to adorn.
Emerging as a rare butterfly from cocoon's deep folds,
her light will grace all and never her heart be torn.

As darkness seeks its wrapping gulf of shrouded gloom,
her beautiful glow breaks upon dawn's sweetest light .
Dark clouds can not give their wretched pain and sad doom.
for her pure soul radiates greater than the darkest night.
Such loveliness shines even in the simplest of her rooms.

Robert J. Lindley, 4-15-2016


Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 12 14 14 12 0 12 12 12 14 14
Total # Syllables: 116
Total # Lines: 10 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 88



ROBERT J. LINDLEY-- A CONTEST WRITE..

4-16-2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

My Soul Fell Into Her Cool, Soothing Grace

She saw me in my tattered and worn hat
and knelt close to where I sat
Her glow
did show
that instant true love can really grow

My soul fell into her cool, soothing grace
my spirit and heart then wildly did race
If only she saw
love and its all
comes when we let our pride fall

Into hearts kingdom we both dared to dwell
my lost soul into her arms thus fell
As she cried
I tried
to my fear of her loss hide

Together she and I saw dawn's sweet parade
that moment our love and fate made
Love so true
we too
saw the light and both forever knew

Fated love is deep and tis' everything
Love, as dear life, renews every Spring.

Robert J. Lindley, 4-16-2016

Not For Mystic Rose Contest , Mirror her poem..

Decided not to enter it in the contest but I will post the poem there on the board tomorrow.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Duality

Thy day is filled with echoes of olden times,
Shadows of pain. I watch the skylark climb
Into sun above the golden grain.

One thou loveth for that he wrote his dream
In blood , then died. My joy is, it doth gleam
Even among the sweet flowers of summer-tide.

Yet thou and I are he that now doth write,
Of ancient seed, deep-rooted, dark and light,
Sheltering good and evil at their need.

Robert J. Lindley, Romanticism

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Poet's Blessings and Laments

Ye with the many empty baskets , save a few for me
Tho' word weary my pen can still shake a tree.
Weave ém with diligence and your greatest care
For we that need writing, will always race to be there.

Hold out the bright gold and beg us to write to win
author's ego may be a wordy knot but not a sin.
So keep the door open , tis the least you can do
for today is flowing and our words are the glue!

Laugh with us as we celebrate with piss and moans
our addiction, we celebrate in ego driven tones.
As your doorway swings we seek even more keys
music in our writings, turbulence in our seas.

As you build rooms to hold our rampaging words
Remember, we fight to write, stampede in dusty herds!

Robert J. Lindley, 4-17-2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Your Black Heart As A Jagged Stone

You asked me to be so kind
You asked me to very humbly wait
You beg me to cheer, not to mind
Your toying with my sad fate!

Your heart beats fast and hard
Your liver stays filled with bile
Love you say is in your black cards
My life you will steal for a while.

Try to understand my dismay
My misery in your rotten basket
You kiss to get your selfish way
I give my all whenever you asked it.

In your world my soul is but a rag
my heart but a tossed away bone
I see you now as a old, wicked hag
your black heart as a jagged stone.

I wrap my feet to race and flee
Your grasp--that wicked dark hold
You are the poison in my tea
And my stale bread filled with mold.

You asked me to be so kind
You asked me to very humbly wait
You beg me to cheer, not to mind
Your toying with my sad fate!

R.J. Lindley
July 19th 1975