Poetry and Prose for any season

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

[QUOTE]

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[/QUOTE

]

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/arti...spired-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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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