Poems Written Solely For Contests

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Touching Sweeter Dreams, Memories To Hold, Sharon's Acrostic

Touching Sweeter Dreams, Memories To Hold
(A Double Acrostic)


Timeless love, romancing dreams, sweet and great
On soft dream-clouds, dancing in love's tango
Under Autumn moons, I slow waltz with you
Cases of pictures, in our home's attic
Having you with me, to always cherish

6-27, 2017
Sharon Gulley's
(Touch Me With Words), Contest


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017


************************************************** ****************************


Oppression and Cruelty Meted Out By Ancient Kings

Lord and master hunted across his stolen lands
with his diamond dogs purchased with stolen loot
giving little mercy in his raging commands
head in stocks, or brutal kicks with his heavy boots

Baying hounds, he hunted through jagged rocky crags
for unmanly sport and to cure his lust to kill
he shot snipes, proudly gutted the forest's red stags
his demand, no hunt stopped until he saw blood spill.

Of English birth, proud heritage and ancient blood
brutality he learned from war's bloody fights
with boot and lash, he savaged the peasant crude
while sleeping quite peacefully each and every night.

Kings ruled with the help of titled ladies and lords.
Oppressing those thought filthy, rabble-rousing hordes.

R.J. Lindley,
Sonnet, ( Tears And Deaths Of The Oppressed)
June 2nd, 1971
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Realizing, Yearning For Lost Youth Had Birthed Poetic Aches

Just past forest green, field of cold and hard stones
there in his youth he oft sat, rejected, sad and alone
blissful in solitude and mindful of dark world's hurt
poet in deep thought, how best to write and atone.

Creating realms to shatter earth's hardest day
well beyond this world's mass of whirling decay
in ragged jeans and older brother's torn shirt
searching, searching for life and a better way.

With pen in left hand and an armada of words
scribbling out verses, only to please singing birds
with heart's pure joy in each word gushing spurt
he deeply scrutinized all his well sprung words.

Years flew by, sanctuary was lost to worldly greeds
slowly, ever so slowly he gave way to selfish needs
his desires, he in prideful arrogance sought to convert
thus raising his own sorrows from lust's thorny seeds.

Racing back, searching for that field lonely dreams
a child again, escaping world's darkest schemes
he found, truth and joy replaced by life's great hurt
flowing forth in never ending black raging streams.

Then one fine dawn, he remembered that sad, sad place
cold stones that spoke, spoke to him face to face
regain thy true soul, plant seeds in fresh, fertile dirt
for thy youthful years, no poetic words can replace.

With far greater knowledge, his grief he forsakes
realizing, yearning for youth had birthed poetic aches
he sat there in new bought jeans and bright shirt
writing new poetic verses, during his coffee breaks.

August 2nd, 2017
--------------
For the 'The Poet's Ache' contest - Greg Barden

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Memories Of The Long Sad Journey

Bitter cold that Saturday morning, I could see my breath parade before me.
No breakfast as I had quietly left the house and started my trek back to our old home.
Memories flooded my brain with each new turn along that dusty road.
Along with questions about why I was now so rebellious.

Quicker, walk quicker my heart and soul demanded. Do you not want to touch the
bedroom door where your father slept? Slept before that long dark sleep.
Slept in such pain and sorrow?
Yes, bellowed back my invisible friend.

frosty morning dew
loose pebbles crunched beneath feet
earth, morning sky paled

Halfway there, with my heart racing and anticipation heightened
I could almost imagine a real touch. A real touch of he- now lost to all eternity!
What wild thoughts come to a teenage soul and mind in its greatest of pains and sorrows.
Can death be denied? Can one bring back even for the briefest moment a loved one..
A father, a father!

blackbirds silent view...
wrapped in winter's sheen
light ahead, welcomed beacon

Walking up the short drive and onto the front porch. Only gone away half a year and such change found!
Silence, silence engulfed my thoughts. Struck numb as I entered our vacated home.
Home were my father had exhaled his last breath. Hand shaking as I reach for that doorknob..
What would I see? His ghost? Would I dare touch his ghost?
Walked into a cold and lonely room--nothing!
No smile, no hug, no long awaited touch!
Only tears, tears by the bucketful.
What had I come to find? Was I crazy to want to see, talk, touch one more time?

one old shoe, lonely
broken window, dusty mounds
bleak abandoned walls

I knew, knew this was it. Life gave no overs and no going back to happier times.
The terror of that reality, would it ever leave. Would it?
Father was dead and my life was over.
I walked out into this dark world ready to fight.
Fighting to be left alone, with my never ending sorrow and its sweet cuts....
Cuts embraced to keep my rage, to yet again feel,
defeat the icy numbness in a rebellious teenager's aching heart.

Robert J. Lindley


*******

Written for new Haibun contest..-TYR

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Slow Hand, Deep Thoughts And True Pen

Each time I write of my crashed hopes and dreams
mind falls into black-depths, sends cold shivers.
Tempted to falsely praise my misdeeds and schemes
I return to my vow, embracing realm of true givers.

Such leaning towards positive and the good
once was abhorrent, not in my prideful style.
When lightning bolts struck me as they should
I found my life was a massive rubbish pile.

With pen and paper I then sought truth to tell
of life, love, loss and darkness once embraced.
O' yes, I did not hide my parades in hell
nor innocent young life I once so disgraced.

Years flew by and age gave its usual aches
far too oft, I swore to give my poetry up.
Darkness whispered, take well deserved breaks
porch lounge sit, empty thy hot coffee cup.

Ah, but my muse, she heard and was not amused
up she bolted, screaming like a raving banshee.
Reminded me of my past, my life I had so abused
what a coward I would be if I now sought to flee.

Pen in hand and regretful of my wasted past
I write to send some light and truth boldly tell.
Praying some good comes, a few words may last
redeem myself from youthful days dancing in hell.
8-21-2017
( Seek to do good and watch darkness flee)

Written for -- The Poet's Own Contest .. may edit later if needed..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Ancient Shadows, Dreams From Love Lost Past

With gnarled trembling hands fumbling to get dressed
So old, even his dreams were slow
Yet once love embraced and his soul caressed.

Ancient shadows drifting in ancient mind,
As fierce and cold as North winds blow
Now victim of Time, best days far behind.

This world, burning sorrows into his brain,
Thirst for happiness now long gone
Was deep misery all that would remain?

Praying for Time to bring its promised end
For her touch and kiss again
He begs send me to my love, my best friend.

With gnarled trembling hands fumbling to get dressed
So old, even his dreams were slow
Yet once love embraced and his soul caressed.

Robert J. Lindley, 8-23-2017

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

In Night Dreams, We Go On, Forever True

A time, a star shining from distant view
romantic dancing, all summer with you.
A clinging, like moss on a strong oak tree
golden paradise, our time being free.

In night dreams, we go on, forever true
our world was romance and loving was new.
Under bright moonlit stars you sing again
my only one, my lover, my close friend.

A place, enchanted by your dazzling eyes
sunny rays, beach sands under blue skies.
Pray I, wondrous dreaming shall never end
blessings our past love will forever send!

Your beauty seared into feverish mind
O' that true romance, love the deepest kind!

Robert J. Lindley, 8-31-2017
Sonnet, ( Lost Love In Sweetly Welcomed Dreams)


Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 102
************************************************** *

Note- Contest write.. may edit later.. -Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

For SilentOne's new contest.
COMPOSE A POEM BASED UPON PICTURE OF YOUNG GIRL GIVEN.


She Had Paint And Brush, No Canvas Needed

Dawn, she rose to paint agony away
placed sorrows in with colors she blended.
Painting portraits, kept her demons at bay
relieved dark blues of love that had ended.

Morn's sun, she mixed misery into swirls
cleaned her brushes to dab bright colors on.
Still yearning to be one of the good girls
she paints only what beauty has shown.

As months became years, art became her all
painted colors became her young new skin.
New beauty seen in mirrors on the wall
she felt her deep pain fleeing from within.

That splendid morn, mist had vanished away
she knew time was right, all must be finished.
As she conquered her fearful dreams that day
her soul and heart's joy were both replenished.

She had paint and brush, no canvas needed
with great skill she painted her hands and face.
Banished thoughts of how she had once pleaded
knowing that it was not she in disgrace.

With joy's tears and lavishing brush touch
every color was so carefully placed.
Life's gifts were restored and she knew this much
lost love's ache had forever been erased.


Robert J. Lindley,
9-07-2017


Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 240
Total # Words: 184

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Poem finished today. For a new contest.. Began several months ago--then abandoned and forgotten.. Resurrected today and finished for a new poetry contest. -Tyr
**********************************


Is Parcae Crimsom, Thy Newly Found Treasure
( In Tribute to Thomas De Quincy, Suspiria de Profundis)


Why hast thee sojourned in Kingdom of Sorrows
rejected hope and promises of tomorrows?
Eyes happily closed, to life's future offers
instead choosing bitter gems from dark coffers.

Does thy joy reside in deep grief and despair
love became bad and ill winds suddenly fair?
Why seek Levana and her tribulations
over that of beauty and love relations?

Is Parcae crimsom, thy newly found treasure
soul blinded, heart so cut it can not measure?
Dare not cry, the Graces have abandoned thee
when mortal life yet breathes and thy will still free!

Hope and Love existed, when Muses where but three
both were sailing as one, as are ships to sea.
Each one gaily playing trumpet, harp or lute
sure of man's learning and Neptune's salute.

Bow not, to kingdoms from unworldly caverns
nor embrace darkness, its chaotic patterns
Return intact, with faith in mortal living
walk away from epic pain and misgivings.

Robert J. Lindley, 6-14-2017

NOTES: ( In Tribute to Thomas De Quincy, "Suspiria de Profundis")

1. Kingdom of Sorrows-
Mythical real , where the Three Ladies Of Sorrow
dwell.

2. Levana- From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Levana (from Latin levare, "to lift"[1]) is an ancient Roman goddess involved in rituals pertaining to childbirth. Augustine says that dea Levana is invoked when the child is lifted de terra, from the earth or ground.[2] Her function may be paralleled by the Greek Artemis Orthia, if interpreted as the Artemis who lifts or raises children.[3]

It is sometimes supposed that Levana was invoked in a ceremony by which the father lifted the child to acknowledge it as his own, but the existence of such a ceremony is based on tenuous evidence and contradicted by Roman law pertaining to legitimacy of birth.[4] More likely, Levana was the goddess who oversaw the lifting of the child by the midwife immediately after birth. Kneeling or squatting was a more common position for childbirth in antiquity,[5] and the newborn probably came to rest on the ground before the umbilical cord was cut.[6]

3. Parcae- From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
In ancient Roman religion and myth, the Parcae (singular, Parca) were the female personifications of destiny, often called the Fates in English. Their Greek equivalent were the Moirai.
They controlled the metaphorical thread of life of every mortal and immortal from birth to death. Even the gods feared the Parcae. Jupiter also was subject to their power.

The names of the three Parcae are:
Nona (Greek equivalent Clotho), who spun the thread of life from her distaff onto her spindle;[1]
Decima (Greek Lachesis), who measured the thread of life with her rod;[1]
Morta (Greek Atropos), who cut the thread of life and chose the manner of a person's death.[2][3][4]
The earliest extant documents referencing these deities are three small stelae (cippi) found near ancient Lavinium shortly after World War II.[5] They bear the inscription:
Neuna fata, Neuna dono, Parca Maurtia dono
The names of two of the three Roman Parcae are recorded (Neuna = Nona, Maurtia = Morta) and connected to the concept of fata.[6]

4. Neptune- Neptune (mythology) - Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neptune_(mythology)
Neptune was the god of freshwater and the sea in Roman religion. He is the counterpart of the Greek god Poseidon. In the Greek-influenced tradition, Neptune ...
Greek equivalent‎: ‎Poseidon
Festivals‎: ‎Neptunalia‎; ‎Lectisternium
Symbol‎: ‎Black
Parents‎: ‎Saturn‎ and ‎Ops

Syllables:
11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11
Total # Syllables: 220
Total # Words: 153

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Recent results of a poem that I wrote for a contest.. Oft I write such poems then fail to enter them due to
my forgetting or else my deciding the poem is not worthy.
This poem, I did not forget to enter... -Tyr

The Poet's Own
Contest Judged: 9/18/2017 10:36:00 AM
Sponsored by: Gregory R Barden


See Contest Description
Place PoemTitle Poet
Contest Winner Medal 1 Doll Maureen McGreavy
Contest Winner Medal 2 A Poet's Ego: Inside-Out Kim Rodrigues
Contest Winner Medal 2 A Slow Hand, Deep Thoughts And True Pen Robert Lindley
Contest Winner Medal 3 Framed Soul Sandra Haight
Contest Winner Medal 3 Sepulchre of Memories Suzette Richards
Contest Winner Medal 3 Life Story Geoffrey Brewer
4 Dear Dr Freud Janis Thompson
4 Whispers: A Young Girl's Story Alexandria Fons
4 The Poet's Ego Frederic Parker
4 Paradigm Shift - for contest THE POET'S OWN Line Gauthier
5 About Me Andrea Dietrich
5 MY OWN WAY nette onclaud
5 The Poet's Own Laura Loo
5 SENTIENCE L. J. Carber
5 A stranger Subimal Sinha-Roy
6 Friendly Enemies Jelani Hall
7 Lifelong Dream Brenda Chiri
8 I Cry Alone Scarlett Sepulvado Anderson
9 Kick Started a Weight Loss Program Julie Rodeheaver
10 The Poet's Own Heidi Sands


Contest Description

What to Submit?

1 original, poem on the theme of THE POET'S EGO ... this is to be a poem about YOU, anything about you - how you view yourself, who you are, what you do, how you feel others see you, what you love, what your interests are, what you dislike about yourself, your struggles, your successes, your work, your hopes, your tears, your fears - anything, as long as it's clearly about yourself.

I want some insight here, though, and this is important, something that reflects some real introspection, or something you rarely share ... it can be joyous in the form of a success or dream, or it may be dark in the form of a struggle or hardship. EVERY poem we write is a piece of us, but I want there to be a very special piece within this work - something dear or difficult.

This will be all about how it affects the reader (me) emotionally, so be real and honest and substantive - you can't go wrong!

Any form is acceptable.

Prizes

Multiple Placements will be awarded.

Preparing Your Entry

Submit one copy of your poem online. Format your poem. Please make your entry easy to read — no illustrations or fancy fonts. Please - I am a stickler with grammar and spelling - there are MANY free sites/software with which you can check these basics, so there should be no reason for such issues ...

Poetic license IS an exception, if it's because of the style or intent. I generally don't let grammar and spelling sway my decisions, but if there are two poems of similar quality, that are very close on every other level, it MAY end up being a deciding factor. Thanks!

English Language

Poems should be in English. Poems translated from other languages are not eligible, unless you wrote both the original poem and the translation.

A Note to Poetry Contestants

You are welcome to enter this contest, whether or not you won a prize in one of my previous contests.

A Slow Hand, Deep Thoughts And True Pen

Each time I write of my crashed hopes and dreams
mind falls into black-depths, sends cold shivers.
Tempted to falsely praise my misdeeds and schemes
I return to my vow, embracing realm of true givers.

Such leaning towards positive and the good
once was abhorrent, not in my prideful style.
When lightning bolts struck me as they should
I found my life was a massive rubbish pile.

With pen and paper I then sought truth to tell
of life, love, loss and darkness once embraced.
O' yes, I did not hide my parades in hell
nor innocent young life I once so disgraced.

Years flew by and age gave its usual aches
far too oft, I swore to give my poetry up.
Darkness whispered, take well deserved breaks
porch lounge sit, empty thy hot coffee cup.

Ah, but my muse, she heard and was not amused
up she bolted, screaming like a raving banshee.
Reminded me of my past, my life I had so abused
what a coward I would be if I now sought to flee.

Pen in hand and regretful of my wasted past
I write to send some light and truth boldly tell.
Praying some good comes, a few words may last
redeem myself from youthful days dancing in hell.


8-21-2017
( Seek to do good and watch as darkness flees )

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

As I Gazed Awestruck, Thankful For Such Lush Bounty

When you directed flames- my lust anticipated
your red-lips brushed my cheek- I knew it was Fated.
Will you seek those lover's days again as oft do I,
you in mini-skirt, high black boots and gleaming eyes?

There was gentleness in your soft kiss and wet lips,
why we never slept on our overnight camping trips?
Your sexy body, loaded with heat and welcoming thighs
my mind so inflamed and your soft moaning cries!

Dawn's new lights, you uncovered in naked beauty
as I gazed awestruck, thankful for such lush bounty.
Now we gaze into lost paradise, again we lust
for fires unquenchable, once again, that loving trust.

Say, tell me, you watch for words to again meet
for love, my future vow to again lay roses at your feet!
For long nights of ecstasy and red-hot flames burning
for love's hot fires, rekindle our youthful yearnings!


September 23rd, 2017

Composed for Gregory R Barden's
"The Poet's Fire" Contest

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

It Was Winter, Ice-Cold Oaks Creaked And Moaned

It was winter, ice-cold oaks creaked and moaned
as glistening snow upon their huge trunks shone.
Powerful wind gusts their sagging limbs swayed
entire forest prayed - Spring, please be not delayed!

Once fast flowing streams, were now solid ice gripped
what devil, had this frozen icy hell tripped?
Or was it Nature exacting yearly revenge
for man's destruction, deaths it sought to avenge?
Just a wintry game, to play for the hell of it
or tragedy, so that humans would tell of it?

It was winter, ice-cold oaks creaked and moaned
as glistening snow upon their huge trunks shone.
Powerful wind gusts their sagging limbs swayed
entire forest prayed - Spring, please be not delayed!

Hibernating bears, snug in their well hidden lairs
safe from icy grip, sleeping with no worrying cares.
Fox Squirrel, safe in high, hollow leaf-filled nest
finding in those cold moaning oaks, safe-filled rest.
Other furry critters, prepared for frozen cold blasts
dens underground, that Nature's onslaught outlast!

It was winter, ice-cold oaks creaked and moaned
as glistening snow upon their huge trunks shone.
Powerful wind gusts their sagging limbs swayed
entire forest prayed - Spring, please be not delayed!

Man too, if wise found ways to hide from icy grips
inside, making few outside, snow wading trips
Yet Nature watched and its wicked blizzards sent
trying to force greedy mankind to its sins repent.
But mankind, in haughty arrogance paid no heed
for when Spring comes, he rips soil, sowing his seeds!

It was winter, ice-cold oaks creaked and moaned
as glistening snow upon their huge trunks shone.
Powerful wind gusts their sagging limbs swayed
entire forest prayed - Spring, please be not delayed!

R.J. Lindley
December 8th , 1979

Note- Posted as was originally written, with very few new edits..

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Why Could You Not Allow Me To Just Love

I walked with you, your sweet voice echoes still
I talked with you, your sad choice was to kill
Darling, tho' we loved far more than we slept
When you fled, twas I, THAT SINCERELY WEPT!

Why could you not allow me to just love?
Why could you not allow me to just love?

Now empty halls sing your wondrous name
Since your flight, life has never been the same
In your closet, you left that one red shoe
Your past sorrow, darling I had no clue.

Why could you not allow me to just love?
Why could you not allow me to just love?

I walked with you, your sweet voice echoes still
I talked with you, your sad choice was to kill
Darling, tho' we loved far more than we slept
When you fled, twas I, THAT SINCERELY WEPT!

Why could you not allow me to just love?
Why could you not allow me to just love?

Robert J. Lindley, 11-14-2017
Rhyme, (Ancient Dreams and Echoing Sorrows)

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

My Dearest Little One, My How Fast Time Has Flown

My dearest little one, my how fast time has flown
you came and life exploded upon us and in us too
Such trials and tribulations came with your birth
yet now, we find the treasure that is you
the songbird that sings to the TV,
the cowboy shooting loud cap-guns,
the superman, jumping from couch to couch
the little climbing squirrel in the small tree.

Years have past and your greatest gift is you
a gem of magnificent beauty in our hearts and eyes
O' the many deep worries you've put us through
yet, the blessing you are has all that overcame,
for in your eyes rests our souls,
in your hands rests our beating hearts,
in your words we hear our love returned
in your life we find ours blessed and magnified!

My dearest little one, my how fast time has flown
you came and life exploded upon us and in us too
Such trials and tribulations came with your birth
yet now, we find the treasure that is you
the songbird that sings to the TV,
the cowboy shooting loud cap-guns,
the superman, jumping from couch to couch
the little climbing squirrel in the small tree.

Robert J. Lindley
October 19th, 2017

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

Placed 2nd in SilentOne's contest..--Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

In process , composing for new poetry contest. Have to stop, have visitors coming over..--Tyr


An Indian Warrior's Greatest Test

Having ventured, where every shadow had a name
Bearclaw watched for higher spirits and Nature's clues
Should he fail and perish, only he was to blame
For he and none other had dared to walk in his shoes

In awe of this rugged and completely unknown land
He thanked his guiding spirit for such an honored gifts
A new knife, showing emblems of his tribal band
A necklace allowing he to very quickly shape-shift

He asked the dancing winds to thank the shining sky
He begged mother earth to bless this dangerous task
He had no fear, he knew only great turtle did not die
And for strength and more courage he dare not ask

He found the black lake where the beast lay deep
Waited for night's darkness and its time to rise
Time had come, for those killed he did not weep
Hiding in silence, he wanted complete surprise

As the bright moon raced behind brother cloud
He knew the dark would bring the beast up soon
Heart beating fast, he asked only to be allowed
to kill before the clouds cleared the hiding moon

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Advice Given A Friend, On The Next Lady Sought

First, be a true gentleman and be kind
if it's a good woman you want to find.
Embrace her dear heart and first let her know
you desire a love-life where both can grow!

Forget the one that cut and did you wrong
nobody wants to hear that old sad song.
Talk much more to the next lady you meet
and for goodness sake, do not ever cheat!

On that first date, do not dare to be late
for it is much better not to tempt Fate.
You be charming but in all be sincere
if she is the one, she will draw you near!

Show her that you are first a gentleman
desiring her love and a lifelong plan.

12-18-2017

Brend'a Chiri's mens advice contest.