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Nature Nostalgia Poems | Nature Poems About Nostalgia

These Nature Nostalgia poems are examples of Nature poems about Nostalgia. These are the best examples of Nature Nostalgia poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Concrete | |

Dreaming With Butterflies

FLUTTER BY BUTTERFLY DANCE YOUR WAY ACROSS THE SKY WITH YOUR TISSUE PAPER WINGS THOSE DELICATE AND DAINTY THINGS FLASH WITH COLOURS OH SO BRIGHT STILL SHINING IN THE MORNING LIGHT NATURE’S GREATEST WORK OF ART IT CANNOT HELP BUT STIR THE HEART TO SEE THIS SPLENDID CREATURE IS THEIR NOT A BETTER FEATURE OF THE BRITISH SUMMERTIME THAN SUCH AN INSECT SO DEVINE EVER VIVID ALWAYS TRUE OH I KEEP THE BRIGHTEST HUE WRAPPED INSIDE MY MEMORY FOR HARDER TIMES AHEAD OF ME WHEN I’M IN NEED OF A SMILE I’LL STOP AND RECOLLECT A WHILE THE BUTTERFLY’S HAPPY DANCE AND WITHIN MY PEACEFUL TRANCE I FIND A SENSE OF CONTENT AT THE SUMMER THAT I SPENT DREAMING WITH BUTTERFLIES


Details | Rhyme | |

THE LONELINESS OF A LOST CLOUD

God named me a straying cloud,
and by His perpetual wish I abide...
as the loneliest cloud floating on the earth's breeze.
I glance below and discover the yellow daffodils pride, 
and fluttering they dance beneath the apple trees;
and as a sparrow I feel the bond. 


My night visitation is more exciting than broad daylight,
I encounter many stars and make them my friends,
and they love shining on the Milky Way...
looking down on the lonely bay so bright;
and tossing their luminous heads, they brightly dance:
so happy they have come my way!


Even the ocean's waves join them in their play,
but their dance is better than theirs,
and at such wondrous sight I make verse...
being offered their warm company;
I am amazed by how they roll and still gazing away,
I do admire the spectacle that gladdens me.


So often, on my couch I gladly lie to rest,
but overwhelmed by empty or moody thoughts,
that splendid image flashes in the glow of the sunset;
my daffodils still wave and invite me to dance,
and I dance with them, making a happy sound...
not to feel the loneliness of a lost cloud. 


Entered in Brian Strand's Adaption poetry contest
This is an adaption of Williams Wordsworth's poem,
"I wandered lonely as a cloud"

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Rhyme | |

The Orchard

Orchard’s earthy mossy trails
Gray-brown bark like dragon scales
Crooked branches stretch to hold
Tender almonds encased in fuzzy fold

Leafy clusters filter sun
And dapple grasses newly spun
Bathed in tepid valley air
Rich soil echoes memories long grown there

Perfect crisscrossing rows align
Green canopy woven into tapestry fine
Nurtured seasons; pollinating swarms
Bare branches clatter in winter storms

Pale pink blossoms; fragile drapes
Fluttering down like blushing snowflakes
Prolific bounty once again
From a living sanctuary:

My orchard realm


Details | Acrostic | |

In An Autumn Kiss

I t’s in an Autumn kiss I feel again
N ostalgic yearning for the yet-to-be.

A wakened, I’m released from the mundane.
N o other kiss inspires so magically 

A s fall’s! I breathe her colors in and sigh. . .  .
U nleashed, I soar with leaves, for it’s a thrill
T o taste the wind and dance into the sky.
U nclad and glad, I swirl with clouds until
M isgivings come to me. Then down I float.
N aive as always, I’ve been led by this

K iss, for now a melancholy note
I s drifting through a mist. Farewell to bliss.
S oon winter will embrace me though I know
S eduction comes less easily by snow.


An Acrostic in Sonnet form, Written Aug. 26, 2012 for Francine Roberts' Autumn Acrostic Poetry Contest


Details | Free verse | |

Its Raining...

                          Its Raining…

God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…

who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again

                               Amen


Details | Lyric | |

The Old Homestead

Orphaned footsteps round the old place.
Pitch black soil, packed deep with bartered
coin and Indian heads – wood and otherwise,

coat her worn leather shoes, Hutterite chic. 
The long land screams within its own silence.
Prairie sage burns somewhere, a ghostly smudge

for the undulating grass and, those it serves.
Its alive scent makes the dead turn towards 
its head - and the barely living turn to listen. 

The impossibly endless horizon holds its bright 
blue at bay, begging acknowledgement for 
its self-professed being and looming enormity.

She looks at the broken window glass and 
through the tattered, delicate gray lace. “Those 
were hers.” She whispers to the one who listens. 

This great-great-granddaughter sees the curtains 
as they once were – wistful in the hot Manitoba 
wind; fresh and lowing with the honest elemental 

scent of aspens, hope and bare-knuckle wash boards; 
always fresh; shifting in the cry for solace in summer 
shadows – never as still as this moments endlessness.

Blowing through the deep brown of splintered pine 
front doors; cracking the announcement of cast iron, 
rot and burnt wood comes the simple statement of – 

I lived. This mother of five young does not cry, 
just yearns to walk in the old ones footsteps;
to know them loved; hear the birdsong through

unbroken bedroom windows for a 5am waking; 
feel the resistance of dough on fingers that beg 
to be broken, and kiss the twisting undead, living. 


The burning of the noonday sun taps her whole,
marking; branding her pale Swedish skin its own.
The red sting of burnt breaks her inward silence, 

welcoming her familiar face home.




© Kristin Reynolds 3 29 2009

*Reposted for John's Summer Celebration Contest. This is a personal celebration; 
celebrating and honoring my great grandparents who settled in Manitoba after leaving 
Sweden and Denmark. This celebrates the summer of family, at least for me. We went there 
every summer until it was gone...


Details | Free verse | |

Memories etched in the sand

Sifting warm sand 
through my fingers,
shimmering fine grains 
glitter my palm.
Sand,
filled with life’s memories
of nut brown days
of summer.

A soft silk breeze 
formed dunes
with our dreams 
that summer
when we danced to the stars.
My heart laced yours
listening to the sea
undulating waves of emotion
as we kissed 
on the velvet strand.

I still hear
the rhythm of the ocean.
Waves tumbling in unison,
a sweeping sound 
gently caressing
as we lay silently 
listening to sand
shifting over stone
to the faint chiming
of seashells.

My first love
a sea salted embrace
on a breast of sand.
The memories
forever held
in the sand
in glitter on my hand.


Details | Burlesque | |

THE CLEVERNESS OF THAT YOUNG TRAVELER

Once his brown alpargata shoes trod countless miles,
imagination burst from his vivid, traveler's eyes...
He traversed valleys leading to azure mountains,
and heard a chant sung with vivacious tones.


Like the invaders of the past that built sturdy castles
on rugged hills, he intruded in those ghostly places...
expecting swift lancers with fierce glances ready to attack him,
or take him prisoner and toss him in a dungeon completely dim.


But with his slick tongue, he would kindly ask for a fair trail
and be scolded by the drunken King with the fattest tummy
to explain with a few words his intrusion in that well-guarded territory;
and looking so young and innocent, his plan for deception wouldn't fail!


" Oh, mighty Frederick II...I come in peace and as a conquered native,
I would bow in admiration to be of service to your kingdom,
which extends from Naples to Sicily, your mercy is imperative...
may your soldiers unlock these heavy chains that make me lame!"  



The Norman King with the bluest eyes ordered the knights 
to free him and waited for words to flow from his mouth with dry lips, " My great
 King, I have grown grapes that are so juicy to eat with bread and they make
the most delicious wine to bring merriment to your festive nights!"


" Where's this region you mention with such wonder and delirium?"
With red-inflamed pupils, King Frederick II asked him. And he traveler's deep voice
vibrated with loud excitement , " Into the valley of Baianum!"
" Let me out of this castle and I will show the purple grapes of a farmer's choice!"


" Let him loose!" ordered the tall, fair king. " Give him the fastest  horse,
and let him bring me proof of his finding!" The soldiers obeyed with reluctance,
but little trust they showed in him: they assumed he was another well-paid jester,
who performed his comedy well...they knew the cleverness of that young traveler! 


Details | Free verse | |

Himalayan Sunset

The young men sat, planted under the overhang
like the pansies and geraniums that surrounded them in boxes,
as the rain pelted the terra-cotta terrace.

The mountain air was sharp with the taste of lightening.
Having bid farewell to the arched shard of a rainbow across the valley,
they sat tensely watching the celestial bombardment of Katmandu.

The lightening stoked the day’s heat, 
thickening the early evening sky like the yogurt they’d eaten for lunch.
A home-made rice wine poured freely over their tongues
from an innocent looking water bottle.
Their eyes turned garnet with the harshness of it. 

The bottle sat with its tattered label, upon the arm of the white chair.
The wine within tasted faintly of the gasoline,
yet, they reveled in it, and the freedom from deep seeded societal traits,
it freed them from.

Overhead, the sky was draped in a bridal veil of stars;
as I emerged from the room to sit beside them.


Details | Light Poetry | |

' Patricia Adams - An Alaskan Light ... '

She, Of The Cosmic Essence
Aware Of A Power
Aware Of A Presence
And Aware Of The Need For Our
Desire To Rise Higher
… and Higher
To Our Optimum Height
Patricia … You Are Like The Alaskan Lights
Those Northern Flares and Colors In Cold Night 
Floating Dreams, So Mesmerizing
Patricia, Brings It To Her Poetic Themes
Such Are The Verses She Shares To View
And Reading Them, She's Showing You
Her Cosmic Essence Insight
Oh Patricia, You’re An Alaskan Light …
So, Keep Reaching, Keep Speaking … and Write !


For The Girl, Who Shared A Comfy, Snug Book Read
On One Of Her Snowy Days … (Via Her Poem- ‘Autumn’s Passing’ 
Also - Your Poem ‘Journey’ is One)
See … It Brought Back Some Wonderful Memories To Me …

                   Your Poet-Friend,
         
                           The  MoonBee


Details | Rhyme | |

BACK TO ORIGIN

People are commonly different
Symbol of diversity piece
Pure race doesn’t exists

Color and creed are just an identity
Believe only in human history
God sculptured them from clay

People are equally created
Having many opposites
But respecting others taste

When everyone is treated equal
Nothing appears but peace in hand
Discrimination, disunity and, suffering won’t be born anymore

Written to advocate to suppress racism
Bandar Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysia
10:30-11:00 am, November 13. 07, Tuesday


Details | Free verse | |

Nevermore


O impetuous Muse surround me
with ashes of moody youth
Recall silken moments,
 uncertain, where 
marbled words wrote
an elaborate history.

Nectar thoughts,
 not moments, dappled drab
where ruined feathers in darkness dwelt.
Ornate  years of passion, spilling fire
allusive to all consuming ire.
	
When summer spoke,
when spring day-dreamed
and Autumn kissed me with
gaudy leaves.

Swift and sweet, how memories rise
diamond- strung in a room of silver
Slick and sleek from a stormy world,
 solid tree trunks on a bell- clear morning.
 
Blithe, dramatic, reckless dreams
 flowing with precocious,
 peculiar streams
 Luxurious with sadness,
 time’s cruel wheel
  rolls vast recollections 
 that slowly  yield
 cold, closed canyons of
endless  truths,
touched with the starry
  kiss of  youth.

Suzanne Delaney


for Harry















Details | Haiku | |

Mystic Doors

Whilst in deep sleep
Found a strangest place amidst
Strolled somewhere anew 

Creatures lead wrong ways
But still best life chose its path
Mystic doors were closed 

Glimpsed one and the rest
Until one by one opened
Watcher accosted.




Details | Italian Sonnet | |

All Through Tuscany

The afternoon outlined. The sunny strokes
of a samurai blade on her body
revealing things the eyes feign see.
Tempted, wounded, the virgin parchment floats
between her skin and satin cloak.
Artist; afternoon, craving company
draws her inside-out so innocently,
on purpose leaves the yolk indwelling.

The painter in the corner moans,
he jealous of the afternoons artly
sensual oration.
Improving skin, bare olive tones
of subtle pastel, the moment partly lost
to the constellations.


Details | Free verse | |

In the Weeping Willow's path

I will never return,
Not even when the willows grow.
Not even when a distant bird
Sings my soul’s departure.
I’ll be alongside the river,
Tracing the few years of my love.
I gave my soul to this ancient stream,
Where the willows plot in silence.
They want to take my core
And carry it over
The fields, the skies, 
Across my mind.
And I shall let my darling tree
Snatch my heart and take it far,
For no one else to 
Grab it all over again.

I’ll endure the Willow’s magic
And contain my spirit
Within her bark, within her leaves,
Releasing my poison into the water.
She’ll guide my spirit
Into the Summerland,
Where I’ll rest by the
White Willow’s side.
Then I’ll be the child of nature,
Daughter of the Weeping ones,
Resting my branches 
By the river, on a rainy evening.

And I shall weep
Every time you will,
And wipe your tears 
With my leafy fingers.
I’ll be your undying guardian
And your oldest friend,
Enchanting you in the land of dreams.
I’ll be the willow on your bedside. 


© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila


Details | Light Poetry | |

Two Old Friends

Dusty roads and fresh grass
summertime rodeos approaching fast
riding with a friend down on sandbars 

A piece of hay hanging out of his mouth
though some trapped water, out the other side
I had forgotten this wonderful life

I still see some twenty year old boy helping me up
now a sixty year old man rides in front
pointing all the changes in the last five years

I could not believe what time I lost
4 am to a cowboy is not early enough
my pants soaking wet my boots fixed

We rode on down to his dads favorite spot
to meet God when the sun comes up
we turned to face it and did not say a word

God's spirit was the only thing we heard
as earth to air, and water to fire, met in the sky
right there two old friends prayed to God



 


Details | Free verse | |

A walk with me

Waves crash the rocks in ecstasy
as I pass the archway 
to the sea.
Onwards to the village, 
busy cafes,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
as a power of teens gather, texting.
 
I venture down 
a chestnut lined road
under a canopy 
of Copper Beech
where bright shafts of sun
illuminate a lane of lavender 
a sea of perfume
wafts the air.
 
Climbing an incline, 
hills in view,
the distant sobbing
of water sounds
a trickling brook emerges
ambling through magenta heather
and thorny gorse.

I reach a stile, 
entrance to the woods
where a carpet 
of frosted red cyclamen 
bleeds down to a deep dark glen.
A chicory lake lies there, frozen
as a mist uncurls between reeds.
  
The granite hills,
 soft with snow,
luminous against a whale grey sky.
A copse of pine trees
surround a curving river
where trout pout, bubbling.
 
At the fold of day, 
returning hom
The pale sun sinks the horizon
as stars tremble
into a velvet night




Details | Rhyme | |

A Lesson From The Birds

Lying in my hammock, I'm looking at the sky.
No matter what goes on down here, the birds go sailing by.
They don't pay me attention, for I am no concern.
I feel if I watch long enough, there's so much I could learn.

What is it that they're showing me that I have yet to see? 
They fly and soar without a care, just happy to be free.
I guess I'm very lucky to be living as I do.
I have nothing that I yearn for and my bills arn't overdue.


I'll just lie here in my hammock on my front porch in the shade.
I'll thank the birds for showing me that I've really got it made! ! 


Details | Free verse | |

WHAT DO THE STARS TELL A LOVER'S HEART?

Profound silence
felt and revered,
stirring an awesome emotion,
which stillness repeals
whenever brightness shines;
and the primroses' scent spreads the delight
of the mild season.


What do the stars 
tell a lover's heart...palpitating
in tranquility, amid shadows
that advance with the pretty fireflies?
Dream, and reprieve from the loss...
hoping that love doesn't lay at rest,
but chooses to celebrate
'till after the evening, and tell romantic tales.


The invisible crickets chirp, 
somewhat awkward to the ears,
I'd rather hear the coos of the owls,
which are richer and more harmonious in sound,
but where are they in this darkness, unless
they are mating in the willows of the lake?


Our blanket is spread on the wide Sheep Meadow,
with a superb view of those Manhattan's skycrapers,
towering over us as sentinels in castle's towers.
Juliet wanted to taste this freedom,
embracing and kissing her handsome Romeo,
not fearing anyone intruding in her paradise,
unwilling to leave anytime soon;
and unruffled, she would continue to love him.  


What do the stars tell a lover's heart?
Accept the lovely rose that he offers you, and adore it,
because it has no thorns, to make you bleed in despair;
Sing with him a beautiful sonnet that Shakespeare wrote
for his lover who crossed the Atlantic ocean,
when ships took months to reach America's shore.


Details | Rhyme | |

Petal Mettle

I wonder, do daises tell? 
Among us, who hasn't tried 
More than once petals to expel? 

Watch whispers of white-hearted hope 
From within this circled chain; 
Petaled path on which we grope. 

Numbers hold this uncertain 
Mystery until they're plucked 
One by one.  Life is taken 

From each one because of lore,
To assuage the human heart. 
They die to make your love soar!


Details | Haiku | |

Lilies

lilies
on her tresses
mom's floral clips


Details | I do not know? | |

our colour of yellow

The lake was still sleeping
a light mist rose above,
a weathered dock could be seen,
its aged wood; full of memories.

The air crisp, breeze light,
trees majestic; watching all.
Squirrels  busy scampering,
as a flock of geese soared above.

Way over yonder
clear across the still lake,
shining brightly were yellow shutters,
on our cabin; our special place.

We had toiled the garden
planted yellow roses with great care,
we had painted the old wood shutters,
yellow paint; speckled our hair.

The roof  we re-shingled,
one painstaking nail at a time,
we even counted the ouches;
when our hammers got out of line.

With nothing but smiles
on our weary, aching bodies,
we held hands, and went running,
into the still of the lake; giggling.

We swam out to the dock,
it was a race; he won,
my hand he took laughing;
as he quickly scooped me up.

Our toes dangled playfully
sending ripples in the lake,
as we gazed at our cabin;
yellow shutters; fresh with paint.

The trees swayed slightly
as if nodding with approval,
for our cabin by the lake,
was our private sacred jewel.

As we cuddled together
warmth filled our souls,
for our bright yellow shutters,
symbolized, our love's blossoming growth.

It was on this very dock,
air crisp, breeze light,
when he gave me a yellow rose;
and asked me to be his wife.


Details | Narrative | |

BEFORE SPRING CAME

Before spring came, in late February
to the blooming and jolly hills 
I ran, breathing heavily and frantically,
touching the perfumed blossoms 
of a solitary, old cherry tree;
and underneath it I sat writing poetry
that hadn't a perfect rhyme and beat! 
Weren't my skills marred by imperfections?    



Canaries and red-breasted robins
flew down and rested on my outstretched legs;
perusing my lines to spot their names,
and when they did, they flapped their wings in gladness!
I could have imagined their joyful words,.
if only they had acquired the gift of speech,
and deeper in their thoughts I would have reached:
to dispel the myth that they had no feelings...



After my short poem was completed,
I reached for my harmonica to play my favorite classic tune;
and being surprised by the paleness of the fading moon,
I dedicated that happy melody to her not to let her despair:
by waving my hand to make her farewell less sad, while I whispered,
" Silent moon, eternal companion of every poet,
what's beyond the realm of this universe?...
Tell us more of those invisible suns and planets! "
 


Before spring came to the dormant valley,
the mountains' peaks allowed the sun to melt their snows,
to create gushing torrents to feed its water to the dry and cracked soil,
which needed rain instead of harmful frost;
and I drank the freshest water and washed my sweaty face,
while fighting off the bees' stubborn rivalry!
That spring has come again to dress herself with incredible splendor,
and this discontent and wishful heart desires nothing more than being there!  


My theme is: Happiness In Childhood


Details | Couplet | |

Autumn

Immersed in the sound of the low rustling wind
Memories and places they haunt yet again
Passed by so quickly as each falling leaf
Drifting and flowing on an unyielding stream
A current to carry from birth right on through
Filling our moments with cares which ensue
A mind lost in remnants of lovers and friends
Babies and children and time long since spent
Familiar, intangible, just out of reach
Longing for ghosts that my heart doth beseech
Winter is looming and summer is past
A time for remembrance the years gone so fast
Beauty is captured in my last breath of life
The sparkling colors in the warm golden light
Do mimic the glory and wonder be told
In those bright days of autumn and a life to behold
 


Details | Free verse | |

In the Shallows

           I bent over to touch my toes
               and the ground tore open like a backbone.

I tried to feed myself the sky;
to splice my tearducts into the universe 
so that, when the pavement cried, it would mean something to me.
My fingernails punctured that slimy membrane
congealed with stars, 
and I brought a slice of it to my lips,
hot and slippery like a jellyfish.
Peach juice, chalky-sweet, flowed,
fleshy particles snagged in my teeth,
and the colors erupted within my mouth.

Synthesia took over my lungs.
The hollows between my knuckles flooded with synovia
and all the ectoplasm threatened to separate from my cells
with a sound like thunder.
Diphthong tasted rusty like leukoplakia as it tiptoed across my tongue.
Tomorrow rose like the skeletons of trees, 
groping for a feeling similar to catharsis
[catharsis tender as the broken wings of doves,
crunching underfoot like shattered glass.]

The clouds opened their thunderous maws
- teeth snicker-snacking, lamplight-eyes flaming the color of E#'s -
and consumed me.
I felt my skin turn to something other than skin:
thick and rough with scales,
my fingerprints melting into something waxen, smooth and opaque,
like pomegranate kisses on coffee mugs.
A feeling ignited deep in my structure;
cedillas blossoming like lilies from my lips,
fragmented sentences stretching taut as guitar strings
between my thumb and forefingers.  
A flutter gentle and demonic as Calcifer erupted from my system
- splattering hot and frothing into my hand -
and fluid rushed in.

   I dared to taste oblivion,
       and the sky swallowed me. 

My lungs failed to be lungs.
They flooded with caustic matter,
and I coughed up reflections sharp as fiberglass;
fighting with organs phthisical and sore.
I struggled to find a way to describe it:
the feeling of consuming something greater than yourself,
of opening your eyes and tasting the sound of rain.
It was like swimming, 
but inside out.

            I bent over to touch my toes,
              and my spine tore open;
            the loose laces unraveling, veterbrae poking out
          like the tines of forks.
            I tried to contort myself into the beginning,
              but I only found where I end.


Details | Ode | |

' The Face Of Love '

Will I Recognize… The Face Of Love?
Or the Wonderful, Bedazzled Appearance of:
A Moon-kist Meadow, Hushed and Dark
A Solitary Silhouette, this Beauty Mark,
Windswept Grasses, like a Babe’s Soft Lashes
Rippling across Earth, that’s smooth as a Cheek.
In the Hushed and Flowery Scented Air…
Your Face of Love Materializes, Silvery, Full
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.

From the Face of Love … Will I Withdraw?
The Face of Love without Any Flaw;
As a Canopy of Clouds with the Splendor of Sunbeams
Piercing past the fluffy powder of Heaven, to Radiate Gleams
A Classical Cameo-Sculpture, Perfect Profile Structure
Yea… in the Bright Beacons, I see Your Smile
In the Illumed, Clear Sky, ‘Your Face’
Can Love’s Face be Touched … Attainable?
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.

The Face of Love … I Have Visualized,
Potent, Breathtaking, The Vision Rised;
From a Sunlit Lake, Winking as Would Diamonds.
Your Face of Love, Emerging from Far Beyond
The Depths of the Lake, as My Heart Quaked,
because of the Wavering Portrait’s Peace
because of Water-Color Caresses.
That Face of Love, was so Tangible.
The Face of Love … so Unforgettable

The Face of Love … has Gazed Upon
Dreams of Mine, the World’s Not Known
… Out of the Woodland’s Emerald Mist
With Drops of Dew, Love’s Face Kissed
The Framing Boughs; My Relaxed Brow.
Floating… Breathing out the Mist of Morn Light
That I may Sketch Your Face of Love, in Life.
The Face … More Handsome, than Sons of the Womb, is Possible…
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable

(For A Medieval-Tongued Poet, I Found Here at The Soup...
          Ismael Nieves, this one's for you Kiddo

                                 Mistress MoonBee


Details | Light Poetry | |

' Rain, Fire, Ice and Breeze '

I Watched A Man, Named, ‘ Rain ‘
Pounding Across The Plains
Running with Cascading Joy
Like a Wet, Happy, Little Boy …

I Found A Man, Named, ‘ Fire ‘
Blaze in Life, A Lightning Desire
His Bold Passion – Consuming Power
Sent Smoke Signals, to My Tower

I Observed A Man, Named, ‘ Ice ‘
Tho’ Frost-Natured, He Did Entice
‘ … Come Hold Me, if You Dare …
And Find Out, if Cold-Can-Care …’

… I Beheld A Man, Named, ‘ Breeze ‘
And Begged Him, ‘Touch Me Please …
Gentle, like a Lover’s Kiss
Whisper to Me, Things I Wished…’

… and Sitting Content, on This Hillside
Listen Now… as I Confide …
‘ Rain and Fire … Ice and Breeze ’
Don’t You Know … You Are All Of These . . .


Details | Lyric | |

Osage Sunset

I imagine the echo of the once thundering herds,
Before the Bison succumbed to the tallow vats.
I listen for symphonies of the missing songbirds,
That made the Osage foothills their habitat.

The land that was theirs is no longer pristine,
Now the hills are interspersed with pump-jacks.
Barbed wire fences make today's boundaries clean,
And pickup trucks are the source of most tracks.

In scrutinizing my thoughts I invariably ask why?
While realizing that time man can't rearrange.
Then God paints a sunset on the evening sky,
An awesome portrait that man can't change.















Details | Narrative | |

The Willows

Tomorrow’s times are in these eyes of mine.
Away and far my world shall part.
The Seas shall rise from their depths of deep.
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will weep.
The Sun will rise as my days still come,
The glory, the power, it is the rains with Sun.
Tomorrow’s times are in these days of mine.
Far and gone my world shall bond.
The Mountains will fall from their heights they climb.
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will shine.
Tomorrow’s times are in these thoughts of mine.
Gone and here my world shall fear.
The Lands will separate the world by Sea,
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will be.
Tomorrow’s times I know are mine.
Here it is that I fear I’m near.
My Land, my Seas, my Mountains of plain sight,
And in the glow of the shadows the willows shall shed their light.

®Registered: Ann Rich 1998


Details | Quatrain | |

ROAD TRIP

Drive across the country
Let imagination flow
Tumbleweed and flat lands
Reveal a western show

Mile markers pave the way
Across this land sublime
Wind blows through the car
On my arm sunshine

Generations of people
Spirits across the land
Occupy a history
Of faces in the sand

Deep inside our spirit
Adheres to our respect
This peaceful land of bounty
No one shall reject

Fresh cut grass lingers
The present rescinding more
Where old shacks and farms
Grasp our inner core 

Land abound with wisdom
Dust has settled down
Enjoy driving the distance
See another town


Details | Quatrain | |

A FULL MOON NIGHT

The moon, pausing near her zenith,
On that balmy night in May,
Painted a warm, nocturnal landscape, 
In varying shades gray.

A mockingbird insomniac,
With golden harp did play,
And serenade his lady love
With songs as bright as day.

A shy, retiring whip-poor-will
In some hidden, forest swale,
Intoned his lonely-heart refrain, 
In a melancholy wail. 

The gentle breeze, that washed my face,
Tasted honeysuckle sweet,
While silver dewdrops glistened,
On the grass beneath my feet.

Though my magic, childhood years have gone
On frightened wings of flight,
I treasure, in my reverie,
That enchanted full moon night.


Details | Haiku | |

Once Upon a Dark Fog

Where the trees once stood,
A dark fog covers their grounds-
                    A path through lost lives.


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Shape | |

House

See
The eaves
Flecked with leaves
All brown from fall’s design;
Four walls, one door,
Two windows, a floor,
A cozy house of mine.


Details | Limerick | |

There's No Place Like Home

Once was a gal who felt so alone
Tornato came up rooted farms home
Landed on wicked  witch
Munchkins came out of ditch
Gave dog lollypops instead of bone  


Details | Tail-rhyme | |

The witches winds are blowing

                  
                                               
 The Santa Ana's are here, and the moon is clear. 
There is a mystic in the air that whispers in my ear.
  Is this a peaceful feeling or does it carry fear ? 

What is the passion and hot fragrence of orange blossom that is pulling me a different way , as if this power has been sent only by a Witch of the finest of White Magic, only to calm the Blue Soul I have known my whole life.


 I feel a passion that is running through my Veins like the  power of water itself .
 
                               
As if the Moon itself were instructed to warm the air that is blowing . It is not a new moon , it is not a old moon , it is a moon that appears only in ones lifetime to gaze at .

 By seeing and feeling the very power of this Moon you will dance your way to Heaven with happiness of what is yet to come.
 
The Stars around this Moon are unique as if they take the presence of every loved one you and I have lost . 

The Witches winds with the warm glowing of the moon, as if I had never met you before , are blowing with the frangerence of Orange Blossom or Magnolia , from a distant past of The South.
 
As if I know we have been together once before , a Moon such as this . In a peaceful , lustful state of Bliss.
 

 There is something coming .. is it something I have always known or wanted ?

 What is yet to be known is as intoxicating as the Santa anas that are running through my body.
 As if i have been struck by the power of light , as the powerful moon I gaze at in the Night.
It is piercing my soul with it's only Truth, 
                                         By;
                                            Shanity Rain 


Details | List | |

Words

Christmas
Tree
Christ 
Spirit
Celebrate
Season
Angel
Manger
Manger
North Star
Sheperds


Details | ABC | |

A Shady Tree

I know its the summer time because of how naturally 
Your beauty compliments the caress of a summer breeze
As I watch the world from beneath a shady tree
I take in the delightful comfort of everything I see
But in the same breath I am holding up my hands
Lord will you please give me back the things I no longer have
They are even more a part of me now that they are gone 
As the sun falls below where the horizon is still holding on
Somewhere between the falling light and a star lit night
Is a dream that last forever and will never say goodbye
As the wind gently blows through the brush and shakes the leaves
It begins to hum a melody that I want to sing
At that very moment I smile for all the joy I have
Its so uplifting for me to see melancholy dance
Soon the morning sun will rise and capture my eyes
As I watch the hand of God paint a brand new sky
With every stroke of color I swallow all my pride
And I find a new place to dream of endless times
If I should ever get to the place I left my broken heart
Only then will I believe this brand new day will start
Again Im reminded of why my heart beats so restlessly
Only the speed of thought and my soul beneath this tree


Details | Rubaiyat | |

Heart of Paradise

Beneath these rocks beats an ancient heart.
In this mountain the most important part.
It pumps the life giving nutrients to the air.
The rhythm of the ages where earthquakes start.

The blue of the sky is so very rare.
Makes one think that there is life without a care.
Enjoying a moment neath the trees so green.
Makes me want to spend eternity there.

Life has always been so peaceful and serene.
Most of the time there is like a dream.
Listening to the bees in the flowers hum.
Paradise perfected and on that I'll lean.


*Rubaiyat Form for John Freeman's contest


Details | Rhyme | |

Season's Round

Summer sunshine in her hair
The Autumn moon in her eyes
Winter’s promise buried there
Hints of Spring therein lies

The Autumn moon in her eyes
Winter’s snow upon her skin
The seeds of Spring wait to rise
To field the Summer once again

Winter’s snow upon her skin
Spring flowers to grace her face
Summer’s vow to come again
Until Autumn takes its place

Spring flowers to grace her face
Summer’s sunshine in her hair
Autumn hints leave bare a trace
That Winter’s cold will follow there


Details | Rispetto | |

Morning Rose

 I often dream of the garden stretching out

   wearing the early morning sun like a crown

     I will dream of the sound of a rooster's shout,

       and mother barefoot, still dressed in nightgown

         pulling a tall weed, while puttering about

           looking like a pink cheeked girl, with eyes of brown,

             clutching a bouquet to her breast. She would hold  

               roses, as if they were treasures made of gold
 



                  ~           


Details | Cinquain | |

Cinquain 9

five lines
to make a sketch
in words of tree and book,
of sunset hour and rest, of fire
and star


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

My First Love: The Rain

The smell of rain coming in the air is my favorite.
It’s not an easy sent to pick out.
Most people think the smell of rain is wet asphalt.
But it’s not.
It has a fresh sent, there is a beauty in its smell.
Like a new start.
A redo on what’s been done wrong.
Such a crisp sent that brushes my nose.
Its familiarity is calming to me.  
I know that in those moments before the first rains of the season, there is an exciting fresh change in the air.
Everything will be alright.
There is nothing more I love than the smell of freshly fallen rain.
I love the rain with all my soul.  
It is a dear friend to me.
Has been my whole life.
It’s the sign of the oncoming season of love joy and excitement.
Who can’t help but love the rain when they know what it has to offer them?
When I was a little girl I remember waking up in the middle of the night, no matter what the time was and being able to smell that rain coming.
I would run outside (usually barefoot) and wait for it to fall.
With each drop that came to fall my excitement would grow more.
I remember laughing with joy and dancing in the rain in my front yard.
I would stay out there until my parents would come yell at me to get back inside.
They would seem upset but after so many times of finding me doing this, I knew they found some joy in my craziness.
I still wake up when I smell the first rains coming.
No matter what time.
Now I usually grab a blanket and sit out on the front porch with a cup of tea and just watch it fall.
It looks like a soft loving hand caressing the world around me.
Nothing is more comforting than that. 
I truly have a passion for the rain.
It’s one of the world’s greatest beauties.  
Rain, Rain, please come again.


Details | Ballad | |

The moon

The summer passed so fast
I thought you and I would never last
You told me our memories won’t be just a blast
Ever was I the one to doubt our past.

Clouds were soon hiding the sun
The difficult hadn’t even yet begun
I saw your shadow everywhere I went
I guess that’s just how much you meant.

But even in the darkest hour
The moon was there-a source of power
And each look made you feel so near
A dream to chase the presence of my fear…


Details | Free verse | |

The Autumn Affect

There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench 
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy 
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home


Details | Triolet | |

Falling Snow

Outside the snow is falling
The children are sleighing
Sometimes they start snowballing
Outside the snow is falling
“Dinner is served”, their Mom is calling
The children don’t hear what she’s saying
Outside the snow is falling
The children are sleighing!
	


Details | Ghazal | |

How to love

My roots are trembling
through clay orgasm,
tumbling the landslide
that speaks every shake or so.
Leo roars and I await life,
Generic roving rumbles
reminding me of the world around,
but I never remember
how to cling to the ground.


Details | Blank verse | |

Gentle Ripples Passing - Lake Kariba

Water lapping at edge of the boat beneath the silence of the sky
Swaying branches of mopane trees and fish eagles cry
Wind of changing seasons and melting palates of hue
in the blood red sunset glow and murky silvery water blue

Elephants in numbers dot the shores
hippo’s and crocodiles are at the core 
of many memories and visions of old 
Lake Kariba, in land sea 
full of tiger fish and bream

The endless blue that roles into the distance
where the sun rises and falls in panoramic vista
The skeletons of petrified monuments scattered in the sea
forests of pre historic trees swaying in the breeze

It wasn’t always peaceful, tranquil, and still
nature has no chance to relax and withdraw
Scheming and dreaming in the depths of men’s mind

Up Up Up goes the building and climbs
Man made dam, Damn big problem
How could this feet of engineering the power of ages old be so easy
to tame such a wild beast as the zambezi

POURING OUT THE CONCERT 
RAMMING THE RODS OF STEEL
DRIVING THE WATER BACK INTO THE HILLS 

HOWEVER, THE RIVER REFUSED TO YEILD
THE WALL BEGAN TO TIP, BUCKLE, AND KEEL
NOT ONCE, TWICE, WATER MARCHED THROUGH
LIKE A FACELESS WARRIORS, DESTROYING THE BARRIER 
THE FORCE OF THE RIVER WOULD NOT BE SUBDUED 

LIKE ALL NATURAL EVENTS, THE WAVES BEGAN TO SUBSIDE 
THE SOLDIERS OF BLUE WITHDREW
UP WENT THE WALL, COMPLETED, IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME

Animals and people lost in the rising tide
from river, to dam, to lake to inland sea
Great and panoramic became the horizon wide

Like a whisper on the edge of wind 
was a grand concert of ages gone by 
Played out by wildlife, land, water, and sky

A harmonic existence of sublime serenity
Life here brings closure to one’s perspective
the sent of dust and adventure is quiet infective 

The place of the skeleton trees, mountain passes, and copper sun still
where the stars in the universe, scatterings like lost thoughts, visions, and chants chill
across the forging path, that strides through this african wilderness blue
Lake Kariba, the artery of the north, run straight, run true.


 


Details | Light Poetry | |

Butterfly

I once was like a catipiller young,naive,and new
Always living from my heart not knowing what
else to do.Easy to take advantage of, that is 
just the case, people would walk over me
like I was their dirty used up suitcase.
Now I feel a newness coming, like a light
shining from the sky, colors fill my world
and I know I am blooming into a butterfly.
Purple,Pink, Blue and Green I can feel them
flowing through. Colors of the rainbow raising
me into full bloom. Wise and strong I am becoming
My faith leads me where I need to go giving me
insight and wiseness for only me to know.
I have not  done this on my own you see
I have been guided by God and Angels
on this Earth. Wise words the wisdom at
it's best comes from a wise lady who
seems to know me best. Lucky, I am 
to have her in my life, she always shoots
it straight and tells me like it is, knowing
her words touch my heart and gives me tons of faith..
I feel like flying through the sky or climbing 
a tree way up high. I feel like observing the 
world just like a brand new butterfly so as I
Bloom I become Anew something unlike the past
Smart and wise beautiful on the inside and outside 
 a touch of color here a touch of color there
makes me glow and become a beautiful blooming butterfly...


Written By: Christina A McCullouch 
04/09/2013


Details | Rhyme | |

A Feather of You

A feather of a bird,
My feather of you,
Drifting in the air,
Aimless in the sky and a blur,
Not one, but two.
Drifting without a care,
My feather of you in the air!
Lost in the funnel of the wind,
My feather disappears,
Drifting in the air,
Flowing aimlessly again,
Crossing over so near.
A feather of you my only fear!
Found with the resolution I see,
A feather of me,
Falling loosely and free,
Softly to the ground,
With very little sound!
A feather of you and me,
But only one I have found.


Details | Free verse | |

On nights like this

Half of the world is asleep

And black bellied clouds rest upon the mountains

Sending rain to punish my roof 

While heaven complains against the ebony night

Shadows dark as evil sprawl beneath the trees

And lovers laugh, dodging puddles as they run

 

Gutters gush, gargling the torrent

As half of the world is asleep on rumpled beds

While creatures watch from boughs and burrows

The sycamore slumps beneath the storm

Where a hawk is stranded on a sheltered limb

And streams and brooks boast beyond their bends

 

The scene is solemn beyond the window

Where rivulets slide, blending into each other like lovers

A glaring bolt slides over the peaks, through the clouds

And the clouds complain about it a moment after

As half of the world is asleep, but not me

I have too much forgetting to do about nights like this


Details | Free verse | |

Chief Warrior Eagle

Brave Indian warrior
Sitting alone in the woods
In the soft glowing light
Of a low hanging moon
Shining on the mighty river

Brave Indian warrior
Playing the flute
The forest comes alive
Animals waking from slumber
To hear his melancholy tune

Brave Indian warrior
Deep in thought
The music lets him escape
Taking his mind of things
And focusing

Brave Indian warrior
Reflecting on the past
Thinking of all he did
All he could do
All he should have done

Brave Indian warrior
All alone now
Concentrating
Drifting away
Into exploration of the mind

~~Written By~Brittany Larson~
For Constance's contest ~"Tell His Story"


Details | Verse | |

Inspire

Inspire by Weston Gregory 

When the sun comes from the east 
Shining its beauty through the 
leaves,
I'm so inspired by what I  see.
Its way though not easy to say
I sigh when the rare jasmine bloom.
I smile at the  monarch butterfly 
choreograph loops,
and laugh in this lazy afternoon

I all but spy its spectrum hue
and am left mesmerize by its hovering 
on the west bound horizon too,
Jamaica is haunted by a spectre of 
gloom,
on its fading from sight on Negril west end 
soon

As if wishing on a dream 
Within the swirl of unsynchronized scenes 
our nature predicts tomorrow 
Whether serendipitous or nightmarish
horror.
Response well to a global hallow 
a prayer;
Goodnight my blossom see you in the morning,
When the sun comes from the east
Shining its beauty through leaves.....


Details | Rhyme | |

My Favourite Leaf

My Favourite Leaf

When someone mentions leaves, I always think of fall,
It precedes winter’s introduction, a slow rambling crawl
Visualizing the leaves of burnt orange and crimson red,
Inspiring excitement for the celebrations that lie ahead. 

While most people think that the maple leaf is the prettiest of all,
Together these leaves display horizons, a brillant, colour sprawl,
But the leaf I love most is slid into my dining table to add length,
Means my family will sit all together again, our eternal strength.


Written October 3, 2011
By Lee Ramage 
For Carol Brown’s contest
Leaves, Leaves, Leaves
Won 2nd place


Details | Free verse | |

Only in You

Through the lonely woods, I may head,

Upon the autumn leaves, I may tread,

At the secluded horizon, I may stare,

And only you, I may see,

In those symphonies of silence,

In those melodies of calmness,

In those euphonies of quietness.

 

By the silent lake, I may lay,

Till the twilight fades, I may stay,

Then in reclusive silence, I may walk,

And only to you, I may talk,

Through those toungueless emotions,

Through those wordless attachments,

Through those voiceless sentiments.

 

In the lone meadow, I may wander,

Along the untrodden paths, I may waver,

In companionless seclusion, I may hide,

And only in you, I may find,

The depths of oneness,

The bonds of togetherness,

The cozy feel of coalescence.

 

In the wilderness of emotions, I may die,

At the merciless daggering, I may sigh,

Through a million wounds, I may bleed,

And only in you, I may seek,

The balm of love,

The warmth of affection,

The heal of inseparability.


Details | Crown of Sonnets | |

It's beautiful

The moon reflected off the ocean, so bright and so real
 I spun around on my toes, with my face looking at the stars,
The cool breeze lightly touching my face
Wearing just my summer dress, 
The beautiful melody of song, in the Back round touched my heart
Everything was a dream, a fairytale
I put my hand to the blue moon light ocean
and put the droplets of sea salt on my face
the smell was amazing,
everything nature had to offer,
It gave it to me, just for that one night
I looked to the sky one more time 
The moon reflected off the ocean, so bright and so real


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku

a cricket in the eaves
harmonizes with
night rain
==================
old river benue
a fisherman's canoe
ladened for market
==================
graveyard's windy dust
sending papers and leaves high
every ones underground


Details | Rhyme | |

The Ghost I Knew

Can I catch you
Can you stay?
Forests at wood
There we play
A gentle hand 
That fixed the dress
Brushing tears back
Saving stress
I can not bare
The oaken wave
Only memories
Can I save
I miss your hair
And what it covered
More than a mind
God knows I loved her
The ghost I knew
She rests away
I can not catch you
You can not stay.


Details | Shape | |

Ohio


                ___________   _________
               /ohio ohio ohio) (ohio ohio/
              !ohio ohio   ohio( ohio ohio/
             /ohio  ohio   ohio# ohio //
               !ohio ohio  ohio# ohio//
             /ohio   ohio ohio)  ohio/
            (ohio ohio  ohio ohio)   (
                    -ohio    ohio-


Details | Free verse | |

like diamonds


two hits and i’m hanging off cliffs, listening to water

drip.

watching moss fall like snowflakes.

nothing holding my heels down but gravity, irrelevant to me.

the little girl exploring the ocean floor, the caves that once held entrancing treasures.

even tactile pain drives me into a gust of euphoria.

my heart beats (slower than it should), but the trees don’t mind.

the four shades of green blend to create a forest-

with each exhale, branches move in tandem.

and a salty tear falls from my eye,

reminiscent of what once was here.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Be Still

And the westerly wind,
Will blow a sea of waving grass
And the sea's fine mist 
Will breathe drops like dew
And the sinking suns
Will cloak the sky's horizon
And the moons of Autumn
Will beckon the golden fertililty of the harvest
And the violet tinged edge of night
Will cry for the white bursting of the stars
And the carved thrust of the mountain range
Will challenge the forever yielding blue
And the hovering tunes of the dawn's awakening
Will mimic the lullaby of my dreams
Rise


Details | Free verse | |

new aquatic species

       Science in all fascination has discovered a species aquatic 

  Theorizing this new yet old species remained hidden as Merman  

  only to live in secret at the oceans floor the mermaid a tribe indigenous 

  once said to be myth yet all proof and technology film does not lie 

  Tsunamis has given the ocean a true glance of the man with webbed hands

  The species communes with dolphins will be under a microscope to analyze  ?


    " The World is not ready to see what I have "  Jacques Cousteau ~


         to be entered in The Science contest ~


Details | Blank verse | |

First Kiss

Delicate damsels danced
While we slept,                                                                                                          scintillating white gowned ballerina's
Tumbled from the arms of the soft moon glow
Until roof and garden sommulent lay
Polar scapes' billowing clouds                                                                                     Harvesting winter's surprise                                                                                          Children's time, piled rolled white, carrot nose
Eyes black as coal, stretched, moving
Arms, legs busy windmills 
Heavenly forms mimicked,                                                                                      Transformed to soft angels
Glistening in the crystalline air
And when evening visited
Bonfires blazed bright, hard crisp ice
Suspended skaters on frozen water
She stopped, turned. Moon light flooded 
Her soft fair face, red hair matched
the fire's blaze and I was compelled
Kissing her lips, holding kissing
So many years ago, now only remembrances
Soft shapes and shadows in aurora's memory


Details | Ode | |

Ode to an acre of land and the building that stands there

Tall and pure oasis 
So much has changed
You remain constant and lovely 
Gentle, morning green grass
Breaks like waves, laps at the shores
Of white, gray, and yellow stones
Towering above me, silent and sure 
Chiseled marble, granite spires, oak
Wrought iron, your scent is old 
A familiar volume I keep close to me
The reflections in your pools
Still glass, not a leaf disturbs 
Irises cling to your walls 
The distance beyond you sways 
Spreading lazily into shade trees 
Sun-tinted pastures and weathered fences 
I walk with reverence, still, after so long
Your ground is my sanctuary
It houses my past 
I am a child forever in front of you


Details | Lyric | |

Walking into the Mist



"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."

                                                           
I   tread  into  the  wintry  dusk,
The misty greyness which surrounds me,
Embraces  me  as a  friend long  gone,
I'm  back  again  at  the  beginning.

Wander  the  thoughts  of yesteryears.
'Twas this brook meandering thro' the woods;
Gurgling , flowing thro', flowering green hoods,
By  which  I  lay ,  that  dreamy  look,
It still wears,  beckons me.

Violets and greens  of  them draped I shall be,
Along the winding path, rambling thro' the trees,
Bringing me back when another billowy winter be.
Withered  are  my  hands  left  cold,
Though my  heart  melts  as  I  follow  thee.

Wrapped  again  I'm  in  that  mistiness,
Stepping  into  the  smoky  cloud.
The  dismal  feel  of  being  lost  for so  long...
Behold, it's  path  once  traveled  before,
Lingering  shadows  that  I  follow  now,
With  a  dearness  in  my  heart
As  I'm  coming  to  thee.



~    


Written by Gautami Phookan

3rd place in the contest
For the Contest : "Writing in the Sublime"
Sponsored by Constance La France~ The Rambling Poet


 








Details | Blank verse | |

The Beach

Sun kissed sand, Waves crashing, Seagulls laughing The Beach Feel the heat dancing on your skin, Filtering through you, Penetrating your skin The Beach A contradiction between your senses The cool, cold water lapping you Surrounding you, Taking you in with every crashing wave The Beach There is an island beyond the horizon The clear, blue sea surrounding it The grainy sand behind you Clinging on to you The Beach Close your eyes Let the heat penetrate you, The water envelope you Because slowly Slowly, It’s time to leave


Details | Ballade | |

Fall

No mind to wait
From the pained  sparrow star
Down's moon
For the last siren among the clouds.

I got that feeling
Everywhere I go she will 
Be watching me from above.


Details | Free verse | |

Ice Rains

Why I am thinking of my father
on the topic of white snows
perhaps because he seemed almost Hispanic
in his youth, tanned, dark hair and eyes
but whiteness shone the day
he came home early
worry caught my breath in chest
and only in the morning
did the firemen come, taking him away.

Such heart spasms, clench us all,
yet snow falls so softly, unexpected
and ice rains even less noticed
they drip, drip, coating the roads
and only when we step too fast
skews our vehicle, ends us in ditch
new babies without parents,
stitches in our heads. 
The drips spire down the icicles,

coat the roses as buds, never to open,
and yet, sometimes, I wish to be inside
tasting the ice cold water like fire
turning blue to the ends of my limbs
in sleepiness, and setting ablaze 
my very soul, like a light, shine out as call
here, with me, all the memories
a blanket of witness to eternity
dripping into us experience’s minerals.

Who could do magic with a wand
headed with all of life’s power to hold?
Who could accept magic in waves
like the falling of snow, or wonder
that we escaped from death,
that we saw roses, saw the spirals
climb down from the sky as raindrops
and drip, drip, into our thoughts
all that began as white and ended.


Details | Sonnet | |

Broken Wind Chimes

Dangling from the tree I can see,
Broken wind chimes that still sing.
They just hang on by a split string.
Sending a harmony of tunes to thee.
 
Their tones and vibrations are a bit broken for me.
I listen and I ponder for what tunes they can bring.
From the tree they will sway when they can swing.
Bits and pieces are released through the air and flee.
 
Caught in the wind is it’s vibrations.
Carrying signals of great magnitude.
Funneling clouds into new creations.
Bringing air into a brand new mood.
 
Broken wind chimes can still sing a song,
But their messages are scattered all along.
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2007


Details | Light Poetry | |

Cues

My day is a day to be reckoned with my Sir!
I am down back to zero going again you see.
I carry a silver stick just for you not for me.
Do know I roll in a blend of pure magic I stir.
 
Like my soup you are and a cat I shall purr.
My summer is magic my winter cues as be.
I am busy you see to fly in and out like thee.
But in between this world is a cross to incur.
 
And at the end of this world is even a bigger cross,
Sharp as a whistle seemingly to be  at a great loss!
 
® Registered: Ann Rich   2009
.


Details | Free verse | |

A frosty morning delight

I awoke this morn to a beautiful bitterly cold wintery delight
Shrouded by nights darkness a Pogonip fog crept in to cast its magic spell
Wielded a wintery wand placing a frosty shawl upon all within my sight

Trees branches hung low encased in icy jewels as if an elegant crystal chandelier
While a spider web displaying a frosty garland glistens in the morning light
High above a flight of geese are strung across the sky as if some vocal bandolier

Pogonip did dazzled us with such visual delights but they are not meant to last all day
For a dusty sun has risen through this frosty morning haze
And later today this sun’s rays shining down will melt it all away


Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”


Details | Free verse | |

A Departing Memory

I know you.
Candles lit, incense fuming,
You like it when I bite your neck, just hard enough.
Blankets thrown about the room
So recklessly, they refold themselves.

And we roll down a hill together,
Kissing the leaves, tickling with our eyes,
Laughing with our hearts.
"You'll just leave me for the next girl you find."
"Yes," I say. Because only
Nothing
Lasts forever.
And it spills through the cracks in your hands
The moment you grasp it.
Like water from a stone.
She bites my neck
Drawing lines of ecstasy down my back with her fingernails
Spilling into me, fighting my words.
"I leave when the sun sets."




Details | Quintain (English) | |

Ice, Ice, Baby

The rivulets of ice hang greedily
To barren brown basalt
Drooling downward steadily
Like ribbon candy halted
a crystal ooze assault.

Sweet sap cascading readily
frozen curtain seldom parted
clothe the breast of earth joyously
leave in mist oh mistress tart…
pierce not the lingering heart. 



Details | Imagism | |

Utah Desert Sunset

Hold the beauty of the desert
it's wind cold 
pristine
blanketing wide expanse 
reckoning 
awake to drifted thoughts 
blown endless across plateaus silent far 
where distant dreams painted in the sand
draw close with longing 
like lips across a rose 
eager for the touch of soft deep colors 
well defined in quiet self repose
or the purple of the sky 
now stayed together 
the hazed sun orange red against.




Details | Acrostic | |

Autumn Memories

Alluring Fall dew upon spider silk,
Unerringly takes me back to my youth.
To a time of those magical days,
Uncanny, how the heart follows suit,
Melting away the years with each beat.
Nostalgic images of playing in leaves,
Melds with the draw of freshly baked goods, while
Earthly scents, sweetly perfume the crisp breeze.
Mom and Grandma, the house they'd transform, with
Ornamental gourds in willow baskets,
Red maple leaves nestled in with pine cones, 
Intricately quilted, down filled blankets.
Every Autumn, I take that long stroll,
Steeped in memories formed deep in my soul.

9/2/12


Details | Verse | |

Philosophical Poetry Week: Transient Tuesday

I am a misprint,
Ink blot on love,
I remain a maybe
Longing for fact,
No speck of lint,
A hand in glove.
Thunder; a baby
Will only react

When you etch
Parallel clouds,
Whistling on cue
To a dead town.
Dream a sketch
Of silent crowds
Becoming you,
This boiling crown

Chews thought
Into flagellation.
Holes in the walls
To spy through,
Seeking a sort
Of bricked-up sun.
A heaven of halls,
All leaving you.


Details | Rhyme | |

Snowy Delight or Fright

Snow of delight or snow of fright?
Bringing forth a world of wintry white.
Children sled and play nor matter it night or day.

In its pleasures they do delight.
Spreading limbs wind up and down.
An angel’s wings flying without a sound.

Rolling giant balls of powder.
The children laugh a little louder.
Even though, they sometimes flounder.

Snow of delight for them.
Snow of fright for some men.
As they shovel the snow again and again.

Canine friends tunnel their way.
A lost one looking for the light of day.
Wishing for a warmer place to play.

Bending the branches of my favorite evergreen.
How far can they stand to lean?
Will it be nice or mean to my evergreen?

How might your scene unfold?
Did it make you shiver in the cold?
Is it a delight or fright to behold?


Richard J. Long (February, 2010)
Inspired by Snow apocalypse


Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.





Details | Light Poetry | |

Face of Foul

July 30th 2010

Face of Foul

Clever thy is or thy once was?
On a clear day, I did indeed pray.
So then, the clouds flew over me.
After many adjustments came doves.
Then feathers tumbled as they fray.
Thus, a backstroke of a quill is a key.

Far far away in a land farthest from thou:
I cover fields of flesh mind body and soul.
And not one sole an error in face of foul.
I have sown them all together as a whole.

Let you be known: I have put my foot down upon your Mighty Head!
Let ye also be known that I do sleep in a Queen, not King sized bed.

®Registered: Ann Rich 2010


Details | I do not know? | |

The Weight of Material and Maternal Affiliations

Special relationships are developed and strengthened over the years; And those relationships reveal an obligation to fulfil when wisdom begins to knock during the tweens; Oh what a shame, a shock, an ocean of tears brews like fresh coffee; The aroma of unpleasant emotions desires to embrace the tide of positivity; Hours of analyzing, wondering, weeping, twisting and turning; The ray of hope from within crawls assuring that day would come where love, respect, and a big hug would return. Every move, every thought, and every gesture seems deceiving from someone else’s perspective; The battle to speak up or atleast share some distasteful sentiments to a near one were uneasy; Every feeling seems cripple and a handicap; Craving the desire of the kiss of sympathy, empathy, and aspiration became phony; Determination, and the ambition to do it or make it right never faded; Thus, the struggle to attain security from within first was the initial step. A new day brought about a new learning that the power and natural sensation of maternal affiliation seemed insensitive, competitive, selfish, and unfair; The joy and contentment of holding the baby in one’s arms was blurry and forgotten; The result of feeling complete as a woman did not ring a bell nor the gratitude toward the Supreme power was acknowledged; But, the cultivation of a new battle was instigated without notice; The innocent tween was struggling with mind games with the assertive adult; It was like a black magic being done when many things simply backfired. Over the years, the achievements, praise, support, and love from people whom one would least expect from was given without any doubt; Slowly trying to accept the fact that not everyone’s maternal relationship is normal or even a bed of roses; However, the lucky ones receive a bundle of appraises, moral support, advice, a kiss on the cheek to show they matter; The juggle between maternal and material relationship will be a long and awaited answer; Till the last breath, the concerns over material possessions and security will be anyone’s concern because it is never easy to be happy with what you have knowing what you have may be distressful; The weight of material and maternal affiliations still arises many questions, unwanted moments, and of course a salute to cherished occasions that anyone has undergone.


Details | Free verse | |

Shaded Path

The heat has been beating me on the back,
as the weather leathers my flushed skin,
oh how I crave my shaded path.
I remember those days,
I'd walk miles to feel the strength this path gave.
As I would approach it's threshold I hear the world change.
The birds sing a new tune, 
and how the vines reach high, 
ascend towards the heavens,
beyond any man's true height.
They help build this canopy.
It's as if the world around me knows how I feel,
the heat,
the exhaustion,
that I just need a minute of inner peace.
As I'm into the shaded path I feel a cool breeze,
almost as if an icy breath melted the heat 
just to cool it for me.
I hear the trees stir, 
the leaves, vines, flowers, branches all rearrange for me.
the light becomes obsolete,
The sun is completely shielded out by their change,
how this shaded path tries to comfort and protect me.
But my,
this path is miles away,
wait, 
there's a cool breeze,
could it be?


Details | I do not know? | |

Precious Cherub

Midnight glows from behind pearl- glazed pools,
darkness hides the delight of eyes wide open.
As time floats by in dream-like waves,
sunrise blooms with the wake of morn'.
Scented petals of nature's honey linger;
butterflies perform in perfect harmony.


Details | Sonnet | |

Autumn figure

Oh, you're brilliant, you deciduous darling 
I'm falling for your colorful ways
leaving me tumbling and a'swirling
Autumn, I'm in love with you today

Take me down your sentimental paths
rustling my memories hued into now
and leave them there smelling past
the years I still remember somehow

Rising scents burning smoky flaring
youth revisits my ancient memories
t'was good to recall that time sharing
days running toward life's vagaries

Not knowing our coming appreciation
making it blazing to Autumn's elation

© Goode Guy 2012-11-14


Details | Haiku | |

Remembering How It Was

fragrance of Christmas
emanating from cedar
nostalgic allure


Details | Ekphrasis (Ecphrasis) | |

Deception

On a silent night
In a kingdom by the sea

Bright moon and star
On dark mindnight sky

Shine silently above
Mermaid’s loud cry

Shallow tears lay
Into depths of hearts

Who seek paradise
In a kingdom by the sea

Where daylight doesn’t reach
Their eyes won’t see

You won’t find peace
There’s no heaven for thee

No sunrise would you witness
Nor sweet Annabel Lee

In a kingdom by the sea
Whoever you may be

No soul breaks free
From sweet Annabel Lee

Whatever drowns remains
In a kingdom by the sea


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Main Matrix

So, if a matrix is a body substance, in which all cells are embedded?
Then can I not spiritually say that the body of Christ is also a matrix?
Well, is it safe to assume or safer to not assume the differences in such?

If I have a World Wide Web with many matrixes, there must be a main.
How does one achieve the main matrix without a conversion of all matrixes?
Each living breathing organism has a matrix, but what supplies this?
 
Seems how all bodies have cells embedded in a matrix,
Is it not safe to assume that the universe has a matrix?
If so, where is the main universal matrix?
There must be a connection of some sorts,
Nevertheless, what is it and where is it?
Moreover, why has this not been thought of?
 
If the body is the temple of the Lord,
Then He must have a main matrix.
Matrix is Latin for womb.
So in which womb is this matrix?
Only a female has a womb.
There must be one that is required by none.
 
Now let us get even more difficult here.
We have a World Wide Web with many matrixes.
What if the World Wide Web is an individual womb?
It obviously has good and evil in its growth.
Could there have been two that fused by one?
Could there have been a conversion of all matrixes.
Or is there only one main matrix being a female?
 
Let us get back to the body of Christ and His matrix.
Let us even go to your own bodies matrixes.
An enclosure within in which something originates or develops,
This is what lives and breathes inside of you every day, a matrix.
Do we not develop Christ within ourselves, and He our originator?
Is it not safe to assume that we are the body of Christ?
Moreover, that we are of a matrix that has a universal main matrix?
 
 
®Registered: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Senryu | |

one leaf dangled

one leaf dangled from
a single spider-web strand
in fresh morning air

as I greeted the sun,
sitting under a tree in
my dew-filled backyard

I was stilled by the
beauty of this lone leaf, in
its simplicity

But, then the leaf fell
I was startled, but the joy
in my heart  remained

**morning, noon, night senryu contest


Details | I do not know? | |

The Fall

Don’t wanna fall
Don’t wanna feel this way anymore 
And don’t wanna see any disaster ´cause it eats my insides.
Everything is climbing by the walls, I built a while ago
And I am not safe, not anymore
Everything is crumbling and nothing is like it should be
I need a sparkle of hope in my way
A little candle held in the numb night of my heart
So I can get to see hope between this entire storm.

So from the storm's eye where everything is calm,
I can get to find a little hope,
within this devastation and misery,
I don't know if I should stay or should I go.

If I stay in this storm awaiting for a calm that might never come,
awaiting for the rain in the middle of the fire,
where I keep on fighting and there don't seem an end this winds.
the walls have crumbled away, now how can I cover myself?

If I go, well, what else is there other than this endless fight?
what am I gonna find at the end of that tunnel?
should I finish with this fight now?
without the knowledge of where does everything goes.

Should I fall within the petals of the pavot,
or should I keep on fighting for what I believe,
although I'm tiered,
although I don't know what I want anymore.



~Anna


Details | Free verse | |

The Great Blasket Islands

Visits long ago 
to the Blaskets Islands,
to untouched areas 
on the Dingle peninsula
came to mind 
on this sleet winter’s eve.

The peninsula,
nestled in heather mountains.
The coastline,
tongues of lonely white sand.
waved rocks,
drenched in blue mussels
tide pools, 
alive with shrimps and periwinkles
A sea-salted life
unspoiled and free.

Only marine life remains,
but I still hear the music
our native language,
the voices of Seanchaí
the ballads, sean?s, 
Peig Sayers
who shaped our school years,
her renditions of island life
her mad pise?gs,
handed down 
from generation to generation.

Stories of
Islanders huddled together
under thatch,
open turf fires
cooking pot on a hook,
the sweet air wafting
of clay pipe tobacco
a pinch of snuff
sniffed from a silver box,
nursing a glass 
of neat Poitín, uisce beatha,
the strong smell of tweeds
and geansaí báinín.

I think of times lost,
changed forever.
Cottage ruins,
where goats roam free,
An Blascaod Mór
my history, my heritage.

Gaelic words in this poem


* Seanchaí – storytellers
Sean?s – singing without music
Peig Sayers and her mad pise?gs – A Gaelic writer who we studied in school and her mad superstitions.
Poitín, uisce beatha – very strong alcohol made from potatoes, called the water of life.
geansaí báinín – strong sheep wool sweaters usually in a cream colour with complex patterns.





Details | Rhyme | |

Firefall

A winding road, up through the trees, finds California gold
The heart will race, and breath escapes, to see this land unfold
Dad cherished, still, his boyhood home, a wonderland he knew
A home he knew so long ago, but never quite outgrew
Our family albums back at home, held pictures of those years
When Gramps had been a mountain guide, my heritage is here

When summer came and school was done,..our family couldn't wait
To camp, explore, and marvel on, this jewel at Heaven's gate
No picture, song, or poetry, prepared astonished eyes
The valley called Yosemite, invited pure delight 

Hidden in the canyons of Sierra's mountain glade
Immortal is a valley, which was carved by glacier's blade
Winter melts to spring, quenching lakes and giant trees
Dogwoods lace the forest floor, azaleas scent the breeze
Redwoods dig their roots between the stones that reach the sky
Earth and sky meet hand in hand, where eagles nest and fly

The Bridal falls, the granite faces, we stuttered to describe
The meadows green, the mirrored lakes, Ahwahnee lodge resides..
The Mercy River cools the brow, in awe of what surrounds
Embrace the peace as evening falls, that mummers nature's sounds

El Capitan, and Half Dome seem to reach the stars so high
Reflect upon old stories told of fire in the sky
A fire built upon the cliffs, then sounds of ancient cries
A call from down below would rise,... would echo from above
And rocks would pour a flaming veil, and spill a song of love
The call of love, from tribes that roamed, a hundred years ago

Days long ago, my childhood eyes, were dazzled under stars
We'd sit around the campfire light, Dad would sing and play guitar
We looked upon the granite face of Half Dome overhead
And watch the burning embers fall, and hear a song so sad
A native song still fills the dark, within the heart of me
A place where soft light still cascades, and Daddy sang to me



................................................................................................................................
A look at Yosemite firefalls.....http://firefall.info


Details | Personification | |

THE END GAME THE END




         **********Note: The Game is over********



The second batter put th ball
             Over the fence
No one knew where it went
It screamed and it screeched the sky
And burdened it's silence with light
        --------
Their was an Angel in deep middle field
It was also an Angel of the LORD
He really fielded it hard....
      ------
He swept so high
That he breech the sky
He braved the breath of
Death and Eternity
But, He make it back eventually
      ------
He cast that ball in the name
              Of the Lord
But, He didn't cast that hard
And as it turned out
The game was won
In the name of the Father
And the Holy Son
And this is how we have
To end this pun!


                 Poet Author
                 Gary FIELDS


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Bird in Flight

Sitting there late last night! 
I took everything in with my deepest breath about me.
I could quiver feeling the warmth sinking slowly in, 
I was covered over distances which I could now see.
I had left myself. 
I was gone again.
I was above and beyond the clouds,  
Soaring deeply with every one of my though,
Higher and higher I rose, 
Reaching loftiness’ I have never once felt. 
I was a bird in flight! 
Stunning with privilege I had brought.
Feeling myself from deep within!
Standing there that night, 
The radiance beamed all around me so I took this in.
And lo and behold, there I went again.
I could feel myself while locked deep with my thoughts.
I was absorbed inside by everything surrounding me.
I felt the depth that my eyes could never ever once see.
Loosing all truth of myself, every sensation my soul had caught.
Further and further I rose, reaching capacities I had never felt.
I’m a feather in the air, 
Gathering sensations inside of myself.
I lay there that night, mind, body, and soul with me.
I was calm with the breeze, 
Inside of myself,
Feeling myself!
And once again I was a bird in flight soaring so high and much too free.
I was locked sound with my deepest thoughts.
More and more I rose and impact for impact I felt.
Feathers of a bird in flight and one of me I have surely got.
Ever since that night, many, many things have come to me.
One by one, gathered by the sensations carried all over me.
Touching inside of myself, again, again, and again!
Higher and higher I climb to reach the very tipsy top.
Gathering it all, I am more of me when more of me can be felt.
I am the breeze in the air touching the many feathers these birds have brought.
Many feathers just from sitting here, but each the soar of the wind has surely caught.
I’m a bird in flight gathering all that is real or not and all that is captured in of my-self.
I am surely the feather that fell from the very top, 
Because I am now what then I surely was not!
I am simply that feather in the air falling loose and free inside of myself.

®Registered: 1997 Ann Rich


Details | Sonnet | |

I Frame

I Frame 

As sure as I stand in the mixed of this garden, 
Glimmering gold falls to the earth by my call. 
Many are great and then some are a bit small. 
I release magnets clutching an obscene pardon. 

It is like balancing a beam that only I will harden. 
I wrap myself into a silver plated resilient shawl. 
Person place and time steadily climb up to maul. 
It’s a give or take rejection expected to turn on. 

One day ye shall see, 
My Moon half drawn, 
Ye see it was all of me. 
Your Sun will be gone. 

Only one Star shall rise up above my name. 
It’s a special place inside my heart I frame! 

®Registered: Ann Rich 2007 



Details | Cinquain | |

Snow

snow

coconut cushions

blanket the land

time stands still momentarily

silence


Details | Prose Poetry | |

dusky skies blend the colors

 
Dusk by the curving river caught		   
me unguarded only this once:		   
		   
Wrapped around my core and spiraled		   
Upwards as I glimpsed the entwined		   
webbed crosses sifting sinking sun		   
like twinkling dewy light breathing		   
		   
an evening song.		   
		   
And as coffee colored canoes passed, I thought		   
of a parade I watched when a child,		   
		   
contrasted only by the drummers’ beat.		   
		   
Streams of colors		   
blended with the descending dark,		   
		   
and the vision on the river lingered.		 


Details | Verse | |

Solar Love

Every star is someone eles's son (shield your eyes) shrug off hate from everyone familiar place been here before thousands of nights the ocean shore coasts are changing minds align hate and fear must now resign connect the dots move my child tame the shy wake the wild shred advice relayed from the miser castrate cancer obstructing the wiser transcendental the hydrogen burns furnishing life each time earth turns


Details | Curtal Sonnet | |

FURIES

Who shall dare to die or to love among the Furies?
Not carry us by lustiness rather by the purpose, wisdom
Whose radiant rage welcomes you and the ambiguities?
And if that unfair, dropsy with pain, then none creates martyrdom;
To recall part of our age, oh bone! The hide prize
From our own mistake in front of the angers and crimes
Aside what left, for in the bloody world that appear to allegorize
And the hate melt cannot freeze from the above cleomes;
Remember we pass through, seal by a target unseen
From a God to subserve in massive, superlove, with such thing
Longingly upon the unforgiving hills from that delirious tween 
Of the idea, screaming from every angles the abjuring
Horizon in red; and throw into inflammation,
A day end, nothing to reconcile, a caste of passion.



Details | Quatrain | |

A REFLECTION OF YOUTH

Heart filled with happiness, eyes much merry; cheeks color strawberry,
just running through fields of ripe huckleberry,
keeping away from the buzzing, restless bees...
going to a from their sweet hives hanging from massive apple trees.



More than childhood memories, such are these...
a reflection of youth that removes them from nostalgia; husky peasants
shaking off the husks from the golden corn;
a tasty, hot corn meal for those winter's dinners drooling on my tongue.



And approaching a torrent, I threw pebbles found on its almost barren banks
back into the spattering water that I drank sporadically until I was full,
to indulge in its freshness...squashing tiny daisies
that seemed too afraid to squabble with a giant and fight for their survival.  



The southern landscape with its mild climate, was rich and fragrant,
inviting hands to pluck the delicious, tempting fruits
off their branches, scattering the thrushes engaged in musical tones;
and I tongue-tied hurried along cogitating an instant.  



Would it be too childish to ask for a come-back,
to relive the cheerfulness of the oldest days, ceased by time and age;
to observe a reflection of youth take shape...
and embed, in a secret, a conversation regardless  of present knowledge? 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Haiku | |

---bird song

bird song
prickles the woodland air---
sun dappled moss


Details | Haiku | |

Nature's Call

back-seated passion
sweaty, urgent grappling
sexy summer sin

Tim Ryerson
11/12/2012
For Sandy's contest


Details | Haiku | |

Christmas tree bulb

Christmas tree bulb 
reflects a tearful face--
empty stocking hooks


*creative aspect decorating


Details | Rhyme | |

Internal Rhyme-MARCH'S ENDURING DREARINESS

March's enduring dreariness looms when no pigeon coos;
at April's doorstep, it still blows away an umbrella or hat...
letting the impatient spring know that he refuses to go!
There were certain days so mild and cheerful almost wild,
but none of them lasted as inescapable moments contested!
Close to midnight, tears falling on this soft pillow reflect moonlight;
and sighs turn into sobs...remembering delicate daffodils' buds
that were as feeble as those dreams I had dreamed as little!
And still March's enduring dreariness is far from pleasantness;
it won't grant my wish...while outside many voices rant,
but shut out from everything, I can't feel or hear anything!
Go to another place, dreary March...vanish in the haze!


Details | Free verse | |

Drawing From The Deep Well

Drawing water from deep well
Clear _cool refreshing water
Drop bucket _watch fall
That windless works
That is if you do
Turn _turn the rope
Each turn gets much harder
A lot like life, friend



1.  Drawing (1)     10.  Watch(1)     19.  Turn(3)      27.Like(1)
2.  Water(2)         11.  Fall(1)         20.   The(1)      28.Life(1)
3.  From(1)          12.  That(2)        21.   Rope(1)    29.Friend(1)
4.  Deep(1)          13.  Windless(1) 22.    Each(1)
5.  Well(1)           14.  Works(1)     23.    Gets(1
                                                                                            
6.  Clear(1)         15.   Is(1)          24.    Harder(1)  
7.  Cool(1)          16.   If(1)           25.   A(1)
8.  Refreshing(1)  17.  You(1)        26.    Lot(1)
9.  Drop(1)          18.  Do(1)


Details | Free verse | |

DELUSION FLOWERS

Flowers on fields of delusion,
We lay upon them to justify a dream.
Freedom escapes from our smiles,
Flowers denying truth on fields of green.
We offer our apology and our love,
Red roses or lilies white.
A time to smell the Nature's gifts
In fragile petals of the Spring.
Colors may change a season,
Or thorns may betray our lust.
The untouchable wish remains
In a flower we've never held,
Like a secret kept unalterable and pure
Over a time vanishing.


Details | Rhyme | |

Always the same

I remember the smiles
From a thousand miles,
The crowd that gathered,
The smiling baby to be fathered,
The blessings made,
That their hopes do not fade,
I heard the general chorus,
The strength, the happiness, the force.
But a different group,
Came in a huge troop,
All, new faces of a different birth,
To witness a fallen strength.


Details | Verse | |

Winter has a face contest

She wakes from a dream, dripping with tears of sweat pouring down her face.  Her long blonde hair is pasted to her forehead as she sits up in her bed.  The clock reads 3:03am.  Her heart is pounding rhythmically to the ticking of her wrist watch.  Her long legs that are wrapped in her white down comforter are extremely cold, and she realizes that a harsh draft is seeping through the window sill beside her bed.  As she pulls back the curtains to check the window for cracks in the ledge, her eyes grow wide with amazement.  The street lights reveal swirls of frosted confetti which overwhelm the pitch blackness of the night.  It has not snowed this hard since she was a little girl and suddenly the terror of her dream dissipates.  She jumps out of bed, slips on her purple fuzzy slippers, along with her matching robe and runs down the stairs.

The stars glisten
Illuminating shadows-
Icicles hang still

Her front door swings open from the harsh embrace of the wind and she manages to drift on to her porch.  Her foot prints smear the freshly painted deck but they are quickly filled up again by the urgency of heavens winter release.  Her eyes begin to spill like water falls and her rosy face along with the rest of her body goes numb. However, the arctic chill was worth it to her.  The last time she had seen her father was on a night like this.  He loved the snow and every part of its splendor reminded her of him. The howling in the air, the cold that cut through her pajama pants like a knife, the snowflakes the size of marshmallows and the cars that look like giant igloos.  Even the smell of the wood burning across the street in her neighbor’s fireplace all made her feel like her father was near. It was like heaven had stopped by to visit her this night.

By: Sabina Nicole
Contest: winter


Details | Free verse | |

I Took The DARE and Survived It

Anxiety about what I might think preceded me
As I sat on the stool in the middle of my living room
Ready to think about who knows what,
I relaxed for a moment and then closed my eyes.

Gratitude and peacefulness were my first feelings.
I smiled inside thinking about how literal Ingrid had taken me.
He remembered that I intended to write at 3:00 a.m.
As the clock ticked, Ingrid kept time for me…

Fear crossed my mind next, afraid of my own thoughts,
What they might be.  Nightmares.  Horrors. 
Repressed experiences dreaded.
But thankfully, the ringing in my head saved me.
At least for that moment…

A few things slipped in.  The Jeffery McDonald murders
That took place when I was stationed at Ft. Bragg, N.C.
The horror had anguished me on an off over the years.
Then, I heard the crickets again.  Thankfully.

Next, a hit and run accident that was reported in the news years ago
Flashed through my mind…anxiety from Army days.
It had happened on a road we sometimes traveled.
Fear, reality check, and cricket sounds followed.

Yes, it is that cricket sound that I enjoy so much.
It took me to the natural world in all its beauty.
Little seeds germinating in my sunroom...  
Crickets outside making their noise; I smiled again.

And the crickets in my head chirped.
I was thinking that this isn’t so bad after all.
I have learned to find happiness inside myself
Then, Ingrid said, “Time’s up.”

I felt relieved.

© March 1, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

My DARE: Dane, you picked Dare* I dare you to sit in the middle of your living room... 
(on a chair if you have toooo!) Close your eyes, and feel for 5 minutes... (you will need a 
stop watch that alert you when the 5 minutes are up. During them 5 minutes, you have 
to feel everything, allow your strong emotions to feel. Even if you have little one's are 
running or your cat is purring at your feet. Don't allow it to bother you. You have to 
concentrate and find that one spot in the back of your mind. The part that digs real 
deep into every feeling we forget is there. After the 5 minutes are up... Sit in the spot 
where you write, and write for 10 minutes, Write about every thought that passed 
through your mind in a poetic way, sad~happy~ mad, crazy.. and so on... Take us deep 
into your mind... Thank you..pd

Confession…I wrote more than 10 minutes…time slipped up on me.


Details | Narrative | |

As Sunset Dusks the Sky

There's a place I go in fields nearby
Where I like to simply stand and watch the sky.

I see the trees in every season
That change throughout the year,
But I know that if I go away
They will still be there.

The streams will still flow
The leaves will still fall,
The sun will dusk the sky each night,
The birds still sound their call.

For now I'll walk this well loved path,
Let twilight gentle my mind,
And wonder as I go from this place
Of other paths my restless feet may find.


Details | Free verse | |

Christmas delights!

Clouds garland snow capped mountain peak
Icy snow butterflies melt kisses upon my nose
Puffs of warm, moist breath balloons billow out before me,
quickly chilling, disappearing before my eyes
Crunching snow compacts beneath booted feet
Prints set deep, little more than momentary reminder 
of where you have stepped before
Crisp white blanket glints
almost winking it’s Christmas card welcome
as it’s vast white carpet spreads before you beckoning 
All of nature along with everything manmade becomes anew
Nothing seems out of place
A bird lands on branch of tree causing cascade of padded canopy
New mound takes position with little noticed effect on perfect landscape

Children laugh and run as they hurl packed balls at one another
Dashing, darting, ducking and returning rogue ammunition
to offending hand and screams of pleasure
Slipping, falling they tumble over repeatedly 
Waving arms and legs, when finally still to create snow angels
Then, standing up clothed as abominable snowman
Giving rise to fresh ideas as new creation begins with rolling snow
Bigger and bigger they chase and push, packing tight as they go
Another ball a little smaller to place on top of first for head
Then off they scatter in all directions looking to clothe their model
Returning with woollen hat scarf 
carrot and stones to place as eyes nose and mouth with button features
Admiring they know their masterpiece shall be short-lived
For mother nature’s hand will chance to create another slushy muddy puddle


Details | I do not know? | |

Season In Reflection

Chase not what was autumn time,
Its vibrant colors that had once adorned.
Now fades away as the winter mourns.
But to savour thoughts like a fine old wine.

Across valley deep over moors and hill,
The Norse wind on his steed doth roar.
Through nook and cranny and frame of door,
With breath of ice like steel.

Ice maid for you enchant us so,
As you lay your cloak of winter down.
Across sleepy hamlets and the bustling towns,
Vestige remnants of the year now go.

© N Windle 2009


Details | Haiku | |

a peacock appears

sitting by myself
singing opera in the woods—
a peacock appears

© February 15, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen


HERE'S THE STORY SINCE THIS IS based on a true story! LOL I was in the woods 
singing...pretending I could sing opera while resting on a bench...all by myself. And what to 
my wondering eyes should appear walking around with my free range chickens? You 
guessed it! A peacock! He must have thought I was a peahen. Later, we found out he 
lived several miles away and had left home for few days...he stayed here until I left for 
Texas, which was about 3 days. He must have loved my voice! OR RUNNING THE ROOSTER! 
lol Anyway, that was the inspiration for this haiku! Would anyone have guessed? lol


Details | Ode | |

Remembering Belle

She was a devoted ole gal always at her best
so many days I cried hanging off her chest     
down to the lake in the hot summertime
we would cool her off and swing on a vine

Every morning at five am here came Belle, now my friend
and again at six pm there Belle was ready to work again
years passed and Belle became a part of our family
we worked, we played, and we milked twice a day

Half my life she was one of my dear friends
I greeted her in summer with warm sun burnt skin
and in winter I spent my time warming them
when Belle died I can't say things were ever the same again

Belle had become more than a cow in a pen, who gave us milk
she became a babysitter, a circus act, part of the swim team, for the neighborhood
but most of all Belle had become a lonely teen's dear friend



Details | Terza Rima | |

DOESN'T FOOLISHNESS CAUSE REGRETS

Ah, had I been much wiser
and taken mom more seriously,
I wouldn't have called her a miserable whiner!


I shiver remembering my behavior so bizarre and childish,
and quite often I got punished
for hanging out with kids who were too fresh.


Mother screamed as a maddened woman saying, 
"Get back in here and finish your homework! "
I did not listen and ran out not to keep them waiting. 
 

My grades got worse, and mom's face was got bitter,
I tried to tell her how sorry I was,
but words got stuck in my throat and I reached for air.


All privileges were taken away from me,
every effort to mend my mistakes was unsuccessful...
I was only given warnings up to three. 


My wistfulness to please mom was denied,
she stopped wishing me goodnight, 
I saw in me that unruly child who constantly lied.


The intention of that pursued wish always remained:
to hug her and ask for forgiveness,
and would I have been given another chance instead?


And that happened on Christmas Eve while unwrapping my undeserved gifts,
I stood up and embraced her with all my strength...
as the conscience's voice returned, " Doesn't foolishness cause regrets? " 


Details | Haiku | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Storm Part VI

Water licks your feet
Far cry from the beating sun
Desert sand to sea


Details | Rhyme | |

First Love

In the instant of a second, I just always knew.
A flickering flame I caught in the eye of you.
 
A feather in the wind and on my last breath,
A deeper breeze of Sunsets at night’s death,
 
A Star beams on the Moon and lights up the sky.
I am in a wonderland amazed at just how high.
 
Lo and behold, it comes to me at the end.
My first love left me His message to send.
 
Look up and you shall see me at night,
Look down and I am out truly of sight.
 
Hold on to the very end for I am near,
It’s my voice in your heart you’ll hear.
 
Take one breath or even two,
I am the one always with you!
 
 
®Registered: Ann Rich   2006
 


Details | Verse | |

A Familiar Song of Home

The morning sun wakes me with old songs My open window invites them in Tho' eyes are closed, I see the place where doves called my name
__ Inspired By Joann Grisetti's Contest: "Shanzi"


Details | Free verse | |

My Soul, Crouching

Crouching beneath the oak tree, 
The calico cat waits.
A happy squirrel frolics above.
Then, the predator springs into action.

Enjoying peace beneath the oak tree.
Raking the leaves, happy hopes rise.
Prayerfully remembering God above. 
Embracing Mother Earth.
Watching butterflies in action –
Life colors, like the calico cat, decorate.
God’s bountiful blessings flood my heart.
Fragrance springs thoughts to the past.
Nostalgia frolics into my imaginings –
Then, come recollections. 

Reality never waits for happiness.
Dreading the predator.
Joy flees like a squirrel escaping. 
My soul, crouching, cries.

© March 15, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen


Details | Free verse | |

Winter Beach

After the rain, 
the speckled glint of shimmering sand
is now muddy brown.
Like a blind, closed tight on the warmth of summer,
the winter beach has shrunken in,
changing the colours of my day into
a darker palette, shades of grey.
The sun shriveled
pale faced and worn
as the cold season begins.

Seagulls a beacon
against a slate November sky
their sound, comfort to a lonely beach.
The steps down to the water, pea green,
slimy weed on stone
bright against an ink-rippled tide.

Seaweed colours bleed into my mind while
textures playfully mingle.
The salt air stings my nostrils
caresses my lungs with wellness.
Sea sounds carry from the shores of Wales
as I crunch the length of the ebbing milk tide.

I look to the horizon and imagine another me
walking a beach somewhere over there,
listening to my thoughts, 
as they channel the sea
Grateful for this beauty, the gift of the nature
I look over my shoulder, my footprints remain
solid, as in a freshly cemented path
their sound, echoes in the shells.


Details | Quatrain | |

Night Calls

Of all that is nature, I admire…
the song of night is best.
The frogs and birds and insect writhe,
the breeze in trees undressed.

Do you hear the whistling train,
the sounds of far off laughter?
Can you cull the lullaby sung...
the peace that we’re all after?

The hoot of owl, the bark of dog
the crackle of a fireplace
The whirl of wheels on roadway
as homeward fathers race.

The creak of steps, the tone of clock,
the call of wild cats mating,
each tone rings loud upon the ear
of man, as sun’s abating.

So, I long, for the deep dark night,
when sounds are few and cautious,
when dreams flit by on fluttering eye
about our loved ones, oh so, precious.

Poet:D. Guzzi
Date:9/27/11






Details | Sonnet | |

My Super Sonnet

April 28, 2010

My Super Sonnet

Multiple overwhelming thoughts trample upon me in a wild way.
Stunned as well as in awe I am compelled to rise upon my own.
So then I thought no possible way, I will have to be overthrown.
Yes, I definitely have to be thrillistically creative every single day.
Now I am living it and now I know excellence so longer I stay.
Yeah, I do have it going on and got it all nailed to a white stone.
You see, now it is on! I’m sizzling hot up on my game full-blown.
Yes, yes, yes, we are on some kind of fire would you like to play?

I am going to think about you on this full moon.
Maybe you have dug yourself into a cozy grave.
Maybe you like the way I situate myself so soon.
Maybe its resistible greed or I’m just that brave!
Look! I’m feeling you out bringing you my super sonnet, a tat for tit.
Indeed! I’m your full spread of Par-Kay or Blue Bonnet, I’m up on it!



® Registered: Ann Rich 2010


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Glistening Silver

Glistening Silver

Glistening silver on water’s edge like thousands of diamonds for my hair - 
Snow covered mountains hide summer flowers of purple, pink and gold
while black bear and deer search for left over apples from October’s harvest.
Ellijay is crisp and cleaned to perfection by nature’s wind and cold - 
The cows hide inside the old, red barn up the hill.
Hickory trees barren of fruit, yet a lone woodpecker flits back and forth looking -
searching for substance from the thick bark only it can penetrate. 
My prayer for snow covered mountains has been answered.
Seventeen years of Florida sun has scorched my throat and mind.
I wanted to see New York snow in North West Georgia -
One full Sunday of snow falling for my eyes to fill
 in the glorious beauty of winter’s wonder.


Details | I do not know? | |

Dust of Africa

For ever- and a thousand years, Africa has been our home,
and when our ancestors returned to dust, they became her fertile loam.
So the dust of the deserts and of the plains is part of our ancient line,
and their age-old voice has whispered to us, from before the beginning of time.
 
Their spirit’s calls out, for you to return, and visit them if you will,
so you finally came back,  to the cradle of man, to answer this ancient pull.
By now you know, the fate I warned, has inevitably come to pass-
that the dust of Africa has filtered in, and found its way to your heart!
 
Now the ancient motes of the ancient land, evermore will be
embedded in your head, and  in your heart, where you may think none can see
-but the ancients know, that your visit home has made you, for the first time, whole
and that the land of your fathers, fathers, father is now infused in the depths of your soul.

So they will sing in your sleep, to their dust in your veins, more sweetly than ever before
till you return once again, to journey with them through the land that gave birth to us all

Russell Gammon


Details | Blank verse | |

The Edge

The woman steps out on the balcony of her high rise apartment and among the buildings and streets and stoplights witnesses a fulcrum, an edge.
An edge, the edge, the intersection of beginnings and endings,
The moment when crops are ripe for harvest.
The edge calls to us and invites us to forsake what is known,
The edge calls us to test the limits of our understanding,
And step into an abyss of possibility,
Sinking down into relaxed awareness of beauty,
The edge awaits us.
The edge, where race no longer matters and neither does popularity,
The edge, where souls delight in the magic of music,
The edge, where souls delight in the power of seasons to change and death to beget life,
The edge is where we are neither disappointed at what we have not done or anxious that we will not continue in doing,
The edge is where we can see a life, a leaf, a soul for what it is without a biased back story of prejudiced contrivance,
The edge is where babies go when they are awakened in the womb,
The edge is the horizon where sunrises and twilight take our breath to the height of admiration,
For only God can make this atmosphere to shine just right as the sun and moon dance their dance of gratitude,
The edge is what I wish for now and always,
The woman steps out of her house in the mountains and among the stars hidden in sunshine and premature butterflies hidden in billowy leaves on trees she witnesses an edge, a fulcrum.
Where divinity and gratitude explode in the praise of creativity and the worship of life anew.
Edges, edges where comfortable platitudes have no voice and ignorant assumptions are ostracized,
Come quickly edges, come quickly edges and embrace me.


Details | Haiku | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Storm Part V

The English weather:
Rainclouds follow us from home
There is no escape.


Details | Lyric | |

The Moment of Atonement

My Dear World,
I owe you an apology;

Forgive me
for I have distorted thee:
lying passionately,
I failed to accept you
by chimera deceptional
I wanted to surmount you
believing myself
to be exceptional.

Forgive me My World
my bitterness,
narcissism
and selfishness;
for a fool I was
since the truth 
was consciously unknown to me
thus calamitious the discovery would be.

Please forgive me
all the souls my ambition eradicated,
all the feelings my sharp tongue destroyed,
all the emotions my cold heart repudiated,
for how much all those deeds I enjoyed.

I was then infected;
the infection seemed incurable
as I wanted it to be -
or wasn't I aware how diseased I was?

My Dear World,
I owe you an apology;

Forgive me
my blindness
to the beauty of life;

With myself in centre
I would not look around
for distorted was my perception
by a deceitful projection
of perfect me in faulty universe.



My Dear World,

Thank you
for
instant recovery of my senses,
the wisdom you blessed me with,
the pain myself was redefined through.

Yester year
I reached the deepest depth
slowly losing my pride -
my psyche was nearing death
in plight I could hardly abide -
I understood a mere human I am.

Now I laugh
enjoying my life
every day forsooth
heartily 
and with ruth.



Thank you
My Dear World
Please, forgive me.


Details | Free verse | |

Louisiana

Heading east, after Arizona,
through New Mexico and
past the wide Lone Star state,
greens shade from dull to bright --
the desert was pale pastels
and heat devoid of moisture.
Here, humid bayou flora flourish
in black and steamy soil
where hurricanes hit the coast,
winds flatten sugar cane,
and two rich-brown nutrias
cross a placid canal.
Their wakes, on the still surface,
are clean, and nearly perfect,
inverted V's.


Details | Haiku | |

Cherry Blossoms Jamboree

Cherry blossoms bloom; the townspeople sing, laugh, dance: hope springs eternal.


Details | Free verse | |

Arachnida

I’ve never  befriend her.
Spider! She can never be my friend.
I can’t afford her disdainful sights
In the day and in the night.

Spider! She can never be my friend.
I can’t afford her anything.
The walk of her webs on my face,
When going out should I relate?
Her dirty fingers around my rooms
Upon my wall, ceilings,
And every nooks and crannies of my home.

She can’t be my child.
If she happens to be, I will disown her 
On the day she is born.
She can’t be a member of my family.
If she happens to be, she won’t last long.
She can’t be my in law
If she is chanced to be, I will despise her.

Ugh Spider! I can’t just withstand her
Presence in my vicinity.

I have never befriend her
And never will I.
I have never befriend her fellow arachnids
And never will I (too).  


#May be some one will tell me reasons why I should like her#
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.
29/05/2013



Details | Light Poetry | |

Lazy Sun

Dawn breaks, With a filmy twist; As Mr Sun, cries to the chirping birdies, "Five more minutes...please!"


Details | Bio | |

Soul Mates

Darn! The wind is back with a vengeance.
Its howling,
	making the trees and grasses become its instrument. 
Gusts to 40 mph they say; I believe it.

But the sky is so blue and the clouds are illuminated from within.
Today the wind is so strong that I can smell the pine scent from the mountains —
	from the mountains where his ashes swirl.

He lifts my hair and whirls it around my face, and in the scent on the wind
	I am awash with cleanness.
The tune he plays as he surrounds my body is one of memories, and greeting.

The wind slowly becomes more gentle;
	caressing now; touching me in a more loving way.
Exploring with long cool fingers, around, reaching under my clothing,
	becoming intimate.

Forfeiting his boldness, with a sigh he leaves on soft goodbyes.

Darn, the wind is gone.


Details | Villanelle | |

From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands

From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands.
Comely words of comfort put the comma in the gray;
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands.

Hesitating white clouds meet the night`s dark commands,
But bring the dawn`s serenity for the a golden bay;
From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands

Luminous black jack oak stopped the moving sands;
The winding road might have danced on the hills` clay;
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands


Recollections` last wave in the glass blowers` light stay,
Smiling from Spring Lake to Thistle Shimmer`s way, 
From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands, 

Pine Barrens` silken grasses are kissed by birds of height,
Chateau Inn looks at the grave laurel and blueberry gay, 
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands.
In Paradise, rivers flow under Blueberry Month` sight.


Details | I do not know? | |

Where Wild Violets Grow

Where Wild Violets Grow

Scribbling these verses,
caressing your bare back,
simple rhymes,
flowing from my fingertips.


Scribbling verses,
sprinkling odes to fragrant promises,
your smile lightens the burdens,
off my heavy heart.


Scribbling verses,
soaked in countless kisses,
the moonlight waltzing on your skin.


Scribbling verses,
feeling you,
your love never ceases to flow,


through the streams of my mind,
to a place of our own,
where wild violets grow



Details | Couplet | |

Life in focus

The wind doth brace my body so,
As I stand astride the moor.
Invigorated by its feel,
To the sky an eagle soars. 
For what splendor and sweet freedom,
Will my soul, feel such happiness.
Given all that’s gone before me,
So much sorrow and unrest.
Oh to see the sun at daybreak,
At dawn the rising mist.
To walk barefoot on the dew tipped fronds,
And to know that I am blessed.
For upon my face the warming sun,
That leaves a kiss with such caress.
Flowers with scented blossoms lie,
On their petals my head I rest
©  N  windle  2012


Details | Free verse | |

The Touch Of Lake Tahoe

Quietly recalling
Those few days long past
Where night rose undisturbed
Allowed to live in solitude
Distant from the hum of the city
And the glare of its radiance
For here silence is silence
And dusk mutes the mountainside
Giving fearful pause even to dawns eye

In the pallid glow of moonlight
Stand the great Ponderosa Pines
Veiled shadows of ominous parsons
Resolutely guarding midnight faith
Sweet tendrils of vanilla incense 
Wafting on Rocky Mountain breezes
Like passions vogue allegory
A smooth and round obsidian stone
Washed upon a retracted beach
My modest moment of reality
Smoothed over by times hands
On this mountain lake…

…Settling me to begin anew


Details | Lyric | |

Yearning

How much I long for the day
When the earth turns green again,
I longed for the day when the faded trees will blossom 
and sprout new leaves under the golden sun,
whispering sweet melodies in the wind,
yes, I longed for those days again.

                                                       
       ©2013 Christine Phillips


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

THE THRONE

       THE THRONE          
In days gone by, as I recall my youth,
some memories at best I find uncouth,
and I'd as soon my mind forget
although it surely hasn't yet,
this greatest fact of life and bit of truth;

there set a one room shanty old and gray,
with just a path that led out to its' way
just opening the only door
was something of a minor chore,
and once inside, the door it will not stay!

There was a catalog with pages tore
and on the seat, two holes with edges wore,
and why, I wondered, there were two,
when only one would surely do;
but I've not figured out what two were for.

The cracks between the boards let in the sun
to think upon until your job is done,
and solving lifes' complexities
is best done here, where no one sees,
and once inside, it's closed to everyone.

The greatest fun was in the dead of night
when winter's set in to its' freezing bite,
the snow it falls, the wind it howls
and excavation of the bowels
is best done in the day, to do it right.
     
No one has ever sat upon this throne
not contemplating all the things they've known,
and there should be a monument
to show the world where people went
to get relief, or just to be alone!


Details | Haiku | |

MEASURING ONE'S THOUGHTS

With strong hands resting
on sharp rocks, I stare afar
intrigued by silence...

I seem disenchanted
by what reality conveys
through its mystery... 
 

Fear is a lament, 
a remote voice never heard;
a lark's joyless shrill...   
 

Written by Andrew Crisci
for Michael J. Falotico's 
contest, " Your Thoughts "


Details | Senryu | |

His Majesty

<                                                symbolic ~ icon
                                     representing .... Red ~ White ~ Blue
                                         the ~ Great    ~       Bald .....  Eagle










Tribute To
The Bald Eagle


Details | Quatrain | |

Winter Forests in Oklahoma (without snow)

The night turns to day, it is oh so cold;
The moon is bright and crisp, the sun honey gold;
The forests are brown and leafless, there seems to be no life;
The silent peace within it, no ruckus and no strife.

I love the winter forests, no longer wet and green;
Everything within it, hibernating;
Every once in a while, a small creature will stir;
Sending golden colors up, a flurry and a whir.



Note from Author: 
This is a tribute to my Oklahoma home which I sometimes miss very much!


Details | Haiku | |

' IN JUST A GLIMPSE '

" I open the door and cross the threshold of imagination " In the midst of woods A cryptic houri's crooning Euphony - suffused. Nocturnal deity humming her lyrical milieu Yarn of Utopian hymn of nostalgia Missing her sublime empyrean realm, now ... Place seems so eccentric ... strange ensued in just a flash How mind's eye brought this door to reach " LIMITLESS " Facing the Ingress of CHANGE Goddess of melody stepped and witnessed the other world behind the realm A cyan orb with burning effulgent daystar - mirrored, reflected Drawing up the facsimile of lustrous sparks of luminescence Planet surrounded by towering trees oscillating Dancing together with the blithesome rhythmic gust of cool breeze Nymphalid gliding, vagabonding with grace and elegance Bragging its chromatic stunning ala above the turfs embracing the land Rocks, pebbles, grass, insects and animals in harmony Clouds, birds, skies, heaven and earth in equilibrium Like music - heavenly, perfect, profound, and heartfelt Factual sanctuary - undisturbed habitat of existence Home of soothing silence - obscure, raw ... Goddess now a HUMAN Mortal - in time, will cease and die. . . =============================== *HAIKU **ACROSTIC ***FREE VERSE *-* jun-jun villanueva ~~~~~" THREE GEMS " contest~~~~~~ july 29,2011


Details | Haiku | |

haiku 22

a lover's heart
scars the aged beech --
silent wood


Details | Free verse | |

Down in the Rail Road Flats

Twas a little piece of heaven in a bigger spot of hell,
Nestled in the bosom of the Sierra Nevadas.
I wasn't sure just what planet I had just landed on,
An alien invader in a strange mountain fold.
Oh, they looked at us with those skeptical stares,
Knowing full well their way of life there was to end someday.
But they took us in anyway, finally seeing our flags were the same color,
And taught us the art of rock-flicking and tree-bending!
Miles and miles of tormented roads and depressed dwellings
Peppered the backs of the manzanita hills.
Pine pitch wafted in my nose in the sunshine,
And cool, sweet water in the faltering twilight.
Like fleeing snakes, the rivers and creeks charged down-hill,
A Pacific grave was the prize at the end of the run.
We found the Red Planet above Prussian Hill, 
Waiting for us to be the last of the guard of an older way of life.
The only real laws out there were the laws of common courtesy,
Don't tread on me, and an eye for an eye. 
Folks were as real and as painfully set as a re-broken bone,
High-falutin' ways were as real to them as Hollywood dreams.
The summer sun burned the devils out of your bones,
The winter chill froze the snow angels into your flesh.
Funny, I never heard the whistle of a train,
Where were the railroads?? Hell, where were the FLATS??
West Point was pointless, Wilseyville was full of wiles,
Independence sat in lonely forgottenness,
Glencoe, a plaque in the artery of Hwy. 26.
Mountain Ranch and Sheep Ranch sighed in amnesic slumber, 
While Mokolumne Hill and San Andreas kept vigil to the gateways.
A part of my soul is still buried in the flesh of those fractured rises and draws,
A part of who I am... there's no shame, I feel, to admit it loud and proud.
So, to the new dwellers who've changed her lovely, rustic face
Into the image of what they deem beautiful and of value,
Don't forget there were lives lived out before you came,
And remember they cleared the way for you and your ways!
Resist the temptation to rush to change a land that never asked you,
And treat her with the respect of your fathers' graves and your childrens' futures.


Details | Free verse | |

The Last Will And Testament Of Senor Turkey

I watched with awe, 

as you came ashore, 

after sailing from far, far away lands, 

You built your towns, on none were frowns,

 with sheer grit, determination, faith and bare hands,

 I figured that one fateful day, 

where we would play and share our future destiny as friends,

 For that fateful chance,

 to laugh and dance, 

where our mutual goals would depend, 

I have my ways, and you have yours, 

on each others strengths we could lend,

 and we could build, and see fulfilled, 

a new World Order for all to comprehend:

 We are so different, in so many ways, 

I didn't think this day would ever come to be, 

That in the end,

 instead of try to befriend ;

 You would treat me just like a piece of meat 

 Gobble! Gobble!


Details | Lyric | |

Ever South

Yellow leaves swoop by the window like
errant canaries, confused, bruised, caught
in a ghostly whirlwind they rise and fall
swirling, hurling, snapping like a flag unfurling,
trapped taut against the window
caught momentarily, autumn comes to
stir things up, to disrupt, the end of
summer so abrupt, ruffling the feathers
of the glossy blackbirds who darken the sky
in swarms and herds, crowding on power lines
they huddle together as birds of a feather,
cawing, seemingly cursing the weather,
so many on the line, a snapshot in time,
etched into my mind, sublime,
taking flight en masse to head ever south,
south, to warmer climes as I hear the deep
tones of my Gregorian chimes, thrumming
tones that rattle breastbones, I count the
autumns that have come and go and
I know, I know.


©Danielle White


Details | Free verse | |

I Remember - 1

I remember…
The long rocky finger I lived on that stretched
out from the mainland in the Bay of Fundy and
the soggy little white house covered in ocean brine 
that did its best to shelter us from the great bi-polar Atlantic Ocean
that would on some days roar and thrash and throw itself against 
our rocky foundation, splintering itself into endless liquid shards  
 that would climb high into the sky, then fall on my up-turned face,
drenching me into a state of near hypothermia while cutting into my eyes.

There I would stand, squinting through burning eyes,
 unable to pull myself away from that wrath, when suddenly - 
 the sun would disappear from the sky, causing the air temperature 
to plummet, leaving me shaking like a leaf as the Great roaring Atlantic
 fell silent and laid itself down as flat as a sheet of glass as that massive
 grey monster approached.

Off in the distance, I would hear a  buoy-bell  timidly ringing in a feeble attempt 
to warn me of the  impending danger that was quietly devouring the mainland, 
our little house, and the Great Atlantic, as I stood there  in a fog.



Details | Lyric | |

Would I were a Yellow Bird

Would I were a yellow bird,
No woes would be on me
I’d fly me past the Sawney roofs
And past the canopy,
O I’d fly so high above this earth
Above this great frontier,
You’d think me but a yellow bird
Just a-gone and disappeared.

I’d soar out into sunlit skies
Where the clouds have all gone home
And I’d soar out over churning tides,
Bleached white with briny foam
Well I’d soar above the lofty peaks
Of mountains gray and blue
Just to perch atop those crowns of rock
And sit in wait for you.

O I’d fly tomorrow if I could,
In fact I’d fly today,
But my wings have not grown strong enough
To fly me anyway
So here I’ll sit, atop this nest
These skies I’m doomed to roam
Would I were a yellow bird,
Then I would fly me home.


Details | Verse | |

Crystal Winter

Crystal lines with their
sparkling sides glistening in
early morning light.

Evergreen, dripping with heavy white blankets.

Rabbits hiding in their snug little
boroughs, safe from the chill.

Snow rising high, into drifts and mounds that dwarf the trees.

The sun glitters off everything,
magnified by the icy prisms.

A red cardinal perched upon a silvery-green bough.
Ever watchful, welcoming winter with his cranberry plumage.

A crystal winter in the tranquil forest land.


Details | Free verse | |

Beyond The Sun

Of 2000 years ago Beyond The Sun
There once was a Prophetic Son
With a Mother of Wisdom
The Matriach of Sublime
She shows the way in time
 
There's a locked cage in my heart
And it's tearing me apart
Sophia you hold The Key
Why don't you open if for me
 
Beyond The Sun
A Dove, a Flame (Beyond The Sun)
Regina Sapientia is Here (Beyond The Sun)
 
Beyond The Sun
A Dove, a Flame (Beyond The Sun)
Regina Sapientia is Here (Beyond The Sun)
 
There's a locked cage in my heart
And it's tearing me apart
Sophia you hold The Key
Why don't you open if for me
 
Beyond The Sun
A Dove, a Flame (Beyond The Sun)
Regina Sapientia is Here (Beyond The Sun)
 
Beyond The Sun
A Dove, a Flame (Beyond The Sun)
Regina Sapientia is Here (Beyond The Sun)


Details | Sonnet | |

A King's Mountain

February 12, 2011

A King's Mountain

A King's Mountain He mounts up under his branded feet.
Mass in size He is hallow by a grandstand He is to you,
But never is He in lieu, so many clues cost one tabboo.
Blown to boredom bereaved He hue's me a pure heart beat. 

Shaking or faking Him out I scram to find my own Grand seat.
Surrounded from East to West there is North and South to do.
Blending my flames in hot Summer winds I baked a cake or two.
I'm like self-rising ready to bake surfing up fielders wheat.

A King's Mountain means Look-Out,
Soak it up and suck it all in!
A Hot sizzling day for a Cook-Out?
A King mounted has a Big bin.

He will draw your naked breath in and mount you to His top.
Sprinkling you with honey dew suckling up for more sip sop.


(R) Registered: Ann Rich 2011


04:43:21 AM EST -5




Details | Tanka | |

Canadian Wanderer

Shades of tranquil light
blend within shadowy trees,
rainbow prism reflects
calling come on home to me,
the forest track welcomes you.
 

written from a photo of a canadian scene.


Details | Tanka | |

The View Backyard

57577 tanka

Contest:The  View (of my yard)
Sponsor:  Francine Roberts

Written by Doris Culverhouse

Nature's view changes
Familiarity seen
Birds and deer tasting
All of my precious flowers
Attacked like the evil one

Dad's barn and garden
Wayne's great carved flower beds
The tractor and shed 
Always steady, strong present
Workers, lovers of the land

Dedicated to my Dad and Hubby!!


Details | Rhyme | |

A Squirrel's Treat

Now there’s a sound I’ve heard before,
The quietest knock on plastic door,
The squirrel on the other side,
Boldly stands, no need to hide,
He knows that there’s nothing to fear,
From the people within here,
But if he can just look so sweet,
He might just earn himself a treat,
And so he stands with widening eyes,
Hoping for a small surprise,
He waits patiently for bread,
With his tail so bushy and red,
Give him it dry and he might just utter,
“Thank you Miss, but where’s the butter?”


Details | Free verse | |

Time To Clean House

It's been covered 
by that christmas tablecloth 
for years.
You remember... 
the one with the large poinsettia pattern 
directly in the middle, 
with the cranberry stains decorating 
sporadic spots along the border.

I almost forgot it was here.
I always hoped somehow a magic trick
would be performed while I was away
and it would disappear before I returned.

The years have passed for me
yet as I do the unceremonious unveiling
time seems to spiral backwards until
I'm sitting on the floor 
drowning in a flood of memories.

Yet, 
no more tears come.
Time to clean house.
No more tablecloths to cover the pain.
No more boxes to tuck away 
the memories that are better off forgotten.
No more excuses for not visiting this place.
No more.

This space is clean now
and will remain that way.
Clear of the cobwebs and dust
that have been clouding my vision
for too many years.
The heavy velvet curtains give a groan
(or is it a cheer?)       
as they're thrown open.
Finally, the sun can shine through
and the warmth can be felt
by a heart that was unsure it deserved 
to feel the warmth of the sun.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Your own erin isle

At some Sweet Point in Your Youth
Through Travel Guides beguiled
Searching for Existential Truth
You dreamt of Erin Isles

You longed a quite, simple life
Away form Hectic Glances
Attempt to be Free from Your Strife
For Introspective Chances

To visit the Ancestral home
Or even to Inhabit
Away, In Solitude, Alone
And Keep the Mindful Sabbath

A place where land stays Always Lush
In Emerald Enclosed
The site of Inner Beauty  Bright
In form of Dear Red rose

I Shall Still See the Pilgrims
With Purposely Bared Feet
While Walking though the Sharp Hills
Their Feet Profusely Bleed

I know the Image of Crushing Waves
The stately,Brave stones
They do not Bend nor do They break
And Bear the weight alone

The Crosses and the simple graves
With names already erased
And stone compesed 
As life itself
From Tiny, Pearly grains


Details | Sonnet | |

" STARS"

"Stars"
I do not know how big they are,
But I can see them twinkle from afar.
Their shape to me is yet unknown,
Still I can see them where ever I go.

Way high up there in the night sky,
Farther than any bird could ever fly.
"How did they get so far away,?"or
"Will they fall down to earth someday?"

When I look through my window late at night,
I stare at those stars,so beautiful and bright.
One day I know there won't be any cars,
But when I look up there will always be stars 


Quentin Alexander Sands


Details | Light Poetry | |

England,My Country

 The rolling hills so green and tender
 Mountains on high i will always remember
 Colours of the seasons so fresh in my mind
 All of the beauty so easy to find
 This is England,the country i live
 The country i would die for,the country i love

 The fields the forest the mountain stream
 The hills the dales the lakes agleam
 Scent of summer so strong on the breeze
 My land of beauty thats so hard to leave
 This is England the country i adore
 Home of truth,faith,hope much more

 And if the time comes then leave it i shall
 To a foreign country an unknown land
 Where the thoughts of England will always remain
 In Gods own country ,Gods domain

 


Details | Sonnet | |

Celestial Mother

Once great always great I say to you.
Upside down or right side up you be.
Once upon a time and a time once was she.
Gathering the universe and shining a Star or two.
 
Then one day She shot down to Earth out of the blue.
She gathered Her crops and made circles wide and free.
She made them so big the whole of the world could see.
She took the Stars the Sun and Moon making them new.
 
She shined talents never quite seen.
Amazing and sparkling from up above,
She is the smartest thing ever so keen.
She is abundant in spreading Her love.
 
She is our Celestial Mother in Heaven,
Separated by the empty shells of leaven!
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007


Details | Haiku | |

A gray, sunless day

A gray sunless day.
Heavy rain flagellating 
my bare-necked crying soul.


Details | Narrative | |

Stunning Armadillos

Trees still shade the road
where Gramps and I once rode
in his old green car -- I drove --
on dusky early evenings
in my fifteenth year.
We stopped, as he insisted, at every spot
where an armadillo scratched
among the tender greenery
in ditches.
I was dispatched,
with Gramps' strong wood cane,
to kill a pesky armored creature
by striking hard, once, upon its snout.
Gramps waited in the car,
called encouragement or condemnation:
"That's it! Hit him hard!" or
"Can't you do a damn thing right?"
He knew I didn't like to kill
but was determined to toughen up
my softness.
That hard old man was not accustomed
to being crossed or contradicted.
But part of him was tender,
and he had a sense of what was right
in the bayou country of his day.
How could I tell him that I hated
killing just to please him?
Often, I killed, then killed again,
although, at times, I'd miss the snout
or be slow to follow up,
and permit an armadillo to escape.
Sometimes, I'd temper force with moderation --
I'd stun the creature, grab the tail,
fling it far into dense bushes
to revive and live another day.
My grandfather eyed me darkly then,
but often kept his peace.
He gave me the treatment
I gave those stunned armadillos.
Could he have felt the same
toward me as I toward them?


Details | Verse | |

Fireplace and Icicles

Fireplace Holds many hearts When it is cold The warmth is refreshing Snow falls outside the window Icicles
Russell Sivey Form Vignette Entrant into Carol ~Sunshine~ Brown's "FIRE And ICE" contest 11/17/2012


Details | Rhyme | |

Where The Wind Blows

As the wind blows unannounced
Rising up one soul from his lowness
As it howls, journey commenced
Most likely to ponder over his cumbersome blindness

Spent his childhood days on a mountainous place
Facing a vast expanse of seawater
Sandy beach and rocky shoreline to showcase
Old folks were a farmer and boat-builder

Picturesque at almost every turn, only for their eyes
Blind man could not see but gentle breeze tells it all
As the breeze was cooled by the lake is what it implies
Wind blows is his device to know what would befall

Rushing of wind would mean a gusty storm
In no time his place be battered by typhoons
Hearing waves undulate liberally, his mind conforms
With the wind tempting to harness his fiddle to attune

When it all calms down, fallen leaves on the ground
Sea froth bubbling after lapping waves
Zephyr comes around to soothe the weariness
As life lurks in out of the blue to cast around

He wishes to know and to see
Through where the wind blows
And ends up hating the humidity
Always wanted someone breathing so close


Details | Verse | |

A SOUTHERN BOY WITH VIVID DREAMS

Since early childhood I was aware of my sorroundings;
looking around with the interest of a grown-up man,
waiting for the golden sunrise with rosy streaks
to rise from beyond the Paterno Mountain...
to dazzle a southern boy with vivid dreams.


The clock-tower, in the Fallen Soldiers memorial square wreath-adorned,
stroke seven to announce the coming of a quite day
in a valley, where orange blossoms strongly perfumed
welcoming spring in all its daintiness and cheerfulness...
as shallows retuned home flying over pines groves covered with gray.


My chestnut-colored hair was gently brushed by a whimsical breeze,
spreading the scent of jasmine's bushes wilting down;
that's where robins took shelter when the summer sun
was at its hightest peak and trees glistened and swayed to please
a curious and adventurous southern boy with vivid dreams. 


Ever wondered how I had gotten to be an elaborate poet in childhood days,
exploring everything to express myself in the most unique ways?
It was love of Nature and its splendor breathed in with appreciation  
that made me who I am today, and wiping away the tears of golden age,
I feel the fanthom of my presence wandering down a silent lane swarmed with sage.


Night came with willowy shadows, carrying out their nocturanl task...
not to frighten me, but to bring the brilliance of gleaming stars so perfectly aligned;
and I dreamed with relief, knowing that there would be no endless wait
to be overwhelmed with a mystery only revealed to a child with vivid dreams.
I looked further above, beyond the stunning, starry sky as the brightest light shined.    


The country I am writing about is Italy






Details | Rhyme | |

Monsoon Girl

She recall her day when she sat by the window
And saw the defiled sky to brace up on with spiritual phantasm
Of some demonic begrudges – amassing and making
The flushing spirit of the late evening merriments and bichrome realism.
 
She beshrewed the iniquity rushing by, but it pelted upon
It bastardized her against the immorality of the nature
And she held up with no parole and desires…
She felt herself interred to the nature that despair.
 
The inquity that brigthened with thunderclaps and silver storm
She averted her fear and assailed against this rage
Acquainted herself with the nature she forefended
Pounded for few moments and synced with the lifelike stage.
 
She clapped, she laughed, she fantasied with the zesty consequence
She danced, she danced with the drops falling from the sky,
She sung her own rhythm catching her steps divine
The music prolonged as the clouds lightened and twittery lyrics whistled thereby.
 
Enduring the theme, she limned in her imagination
A life she yearned-for, A life she was not expecting
She painted in her heart an amorist she was looking for
Holding his hand she balled on the miry stage with pavan relieving.
 
The lust she felt over her drizzly body
Closed her eyes as she felt the touch of his lips on her belly
He took hold of her waist and she accured the fanciful time with reverence
She dangled holding the dampen trunk of a tree, and embraced her amorist 
temptingly.
 
The flushing spirit that bestowed with mightiness and relief
She glittered with love, spirit, esteem and belief
All of a sudden she roused from her phantasies 
Withal the monsoon girl lived her day, ceasing all her grief.


Details | Free verse | |

As I lay Upon Mother earth

Wishful thinking
rests upon soft summer 
butterfly wings
warm breeze
swims across my body
taking with it
my
thoughts, dreams,wishes
now they float, high
above the endless 
clouds, like seeds
from an empty 
dandelion stem
suns rays
wrap me in an invisible
blanket of comfort
tiny, speckles of wet
dew drops from morning
when God kissed the ground
As I lay, feeling
the touch of mother earth
I drift to dream freely
my Native ancestors
dancing and chanting
the songs of my people
the Chickasaw
A sudden itch on my nose
brings me back to the present
and as my sleepy eyes lift
from crescent slivers 
to full dark chocolate moons
I watch as a monarch
dance across my face
and kisses my cheek with
its powdery wing
as it travels
above the endless clouds
like the dandelion seeds


Details | Free verse | |

Harvest Time

Honey combs swollen..sticky and sweet
Apples candied or  chopped for  mince meat
Raisins dried from my Daddy's grape vine
Verily I say.. it's again  harvest time..
Eager for Winter and sun shortened days
Storehouses busting we bring in the strays
Tilling and tending ... the work and the grime

Toiling and teamwork.. we receive Harvest time..
Intervals of hours.. of weeks and years
Miles of work.. with blood.. sweat and tears..
Every time to a season.. every season for a time
      ~With our hearts full of gladness.. 
            we celebrate Harvest Time!


Details | Free verse | |

Earthbound

I will remember whispers on the breeze.
Perfumed incense, honeysuckle sighs.
Firelight smouldering
Earthbound spirits draped in starlight.
Dark’ning skies
Reflecting maiden moon.
 
I will remember voices in the storm.
Shadows cloaked in midnight promises.
Swirling silver streams.
Earthbound spirits weaving dreams of 
Dark desire
Reflecting moonless night.
  
I will remember echoes on the wind.
Serpent smiles, mistress of enchantment.
Belladonna eyes.
Earthbound spirits sacrificing 
Tears of blood
Reflecting changeling moon.

I will remember, shadows in the mist.
Your gentle voice a distant memory.
I sense your presence
Earthbound spirit dancing through the
Veil of death
Reflecting endless twilight.


Details | I do not know? | |

BORNEO'S GREEN HEART

A gem of a nation
An abode of peace
A treasure of empire
A haven of tranquility
A kingdom of treasures
An oasis of modern empire
A space of warmth greeting
A den of hospitable people
A neoclassical form of politics
A gateway to beyond comports
An avenue of understanding
An environment of treasures
An ancient Sultanate kingdom
An indeed pampering Brunei Darussalam


Bandar Seri Begawan
Negara Brunei Darussalam
December 30, 2008
Muharram 2, 1430


Details | Lyric | |

ON SUCH A SNOWY EVENING

On such a snowy evening
When cold wind makes everyone shudder
And numbs senses with its fang,
The ever-warm heart remembers her.

On such a snowy evening
When trees shed dry leaves like tear
And melodious birds stop singing,
The ever-green heart remembers her.

On such a snowy evening
When everyone sinks in sleepy snow-layer
And life becomes tiresome and boring,
The ever-awake heart remembers her.

On such a snowy evening
When everyone alienates from each other
And the hateful death roams to sting,
The ever-loving heart remembers her.


Details | Personification | |

Step by Step

Yiddy awdy those ticks are here to stay.
Here and there but everywhere astray.
 
Tick tack I am going to laugh at that.
On the Moon or on the Sun I have sat.
 
Jump started or kick started my day has begun.
I’m holding a life of lifetimes on the go or run.
 
Yicky yacky just what is it that I am to do?
Run all over the galaxies in search of you?
 
Shucks you mucks, I’d do it all over again.
But from time to time you stop when I begin.
 
It’s a life of life’s bundling into one row.
Yet it is step by step in which it can grow.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007


Details | Light Poetry | |

' A Rainbow - Mist ... '

Leave Behind Drab-Disapproving Crowds
Run In  Rainbow-Mist, A Bright-Prism-Cloud
Where Iridescence Gleams Unbound
Sparkles, Head To Toe … Sky To Ground
Pssst (Listen)… One Place, Where One Is Found:

… In Sunshine and Sprinklers Going ‘Round ! …


Details | Verse | |

Along the Cottage Kitchen Garden Wall

The heavy odor of lavender polish softly opened the door
Peeling paint  family holiday  house timber-slated chairs
Orange-flower water the  tick-tock of the grandfather clock
Pruning orange fruit  trees  which  grew behind the house
Sunlight streaming into the room through sloping window
onto  a table, box of cigarettes a  carved  pipe and a photo. 
Hanging from the mirror by  two ribbons,  a little plush hat.
Sweet  air scented  with potting earth  and  horse manure
A valley  tumbled into a blue-green canopy of forest gums
Humming sofly  under her breath  they  threaded their way
Glittering  eyes  rain dripping  eyelashes  corkscrew  curls
Living in a woodland forest cottage like country princesses
White painted railings polished wooden floors glass inset
Orchards laden with blossoms, tea on the valley verandah
White chocolate eclairs rosehip  apple and Lady Grey teas
Vegetable garden ,lavender ,daisies , foxgloves and roses.
Thicket of hazel,holly and brambles coated the under slope
Antique French doors large wooden shutters,blue tint spiral
An  orchard   that  glows red  in  the sunset  from  the studio
Glimpse of  fine  white teeth, challenging smile  fan aflutter 
Enchanted room night of candlelight sweetly familiar odors
Catching tadpoles +  baby frogs in the lilly and crocus pond


Details | Rhyme | |

Summer's Slumber -Kissing The Moon

                                                            
                                                                    **~~**

 
  The balmy summer breeze 
Gently caresses the harvest saffron moon
  While it dreams memories of autumn’s golden red kiss
Trees are shedding their emerald green summer tresses
  Kindly kissing the Earth as their garments fall gently below
And flowers have shed their vivid colorful dresses
  As crimson amber leaves gently anoint the ground for show
 
While Summer sheds her beautiful clothes -
  Mother Nature lovingly seduces her to dream
She's kissed the shore with her elegant colorful attire
  She has painted the world with her exquisite apparel 
So now it's time for her yearly seasonal retire
  She paraded us with her resplendent painted scenes
Blessed the birds in their angelic symphony of songs
  So now -it’s time for her to drink the dreams of slumber
Taking the cup of restful sleep - is now where she belongs
 
She asks the moon to wait patiently...
  For her splendid colorful return
When she'll paint the world with her radiant painted tresses
  Where once more her regal colors will burn
She'll brush the Earth in regal glorious colors 
  Dressing up again in her brilliant, picturesque dresses
As the ruby red blaze of autumn begins to kiss the Earth 
  With her dazzling hues of gold and coral valor 

But before she goes...
  She gently reaches out with her one last caress...
Softly whispering as she sweetly kisses the moon
  ”It’s time now for fall - it’s time for me to undress”
She softly breathes her dulcet ending tune...
  "Goodnight", she gently whispers ...
"I’ll see you soon Mr. Moon
   Please...will you wait for my return? 

Quietly - she drifts into her splendid, peaceful dreams…
  Slumbering peacefully - 
Safely harbored in Mother Nature’s loving arms 
  As mellow zephyrs gently caress autumn's waiting whispers
While the moon drizzles its shimmering dusty charms
  Serenading nature with his soft silvery tune 
As this luminous gleaming Luna Mister 
  Cordially opens his welcoming hands 
To September's colors of orange and golden browns
Awaiting the arrival of dancing petals
As he gently embraces autumn's leaf draped lands 

Next he’ll greet the season’s sister 
  From the pristine silverblue Northern Isles...
Awaiting dancing ivory snowflakes he'll cheerfully greet winter 
  With his warm welcoming golden smile 

 


Details | Ballad | |

Night's a groovy lady

Orange lights shine from street lamps, 
orange lights shine on what is paved,
Something about the tail end of our conversation 
left me feeling slightly vague. 

This car has 
Translucent windows, 
like a submarine out at sea, 
the current swallows red headlights
while exhaling shiny, tipped waves 

Looking through the rearview mirror, 
The night was staring back at me. 
She’s a delicate, psychedelic lady
Ripe with her purity. 

Reading the white lights of the city, 
I place a book mark for a rainy day. 
gliding towards the illuminated tunnel 

(traffic sounds)

Plunge! 
Into Bustling traffic, 
and faster paced people,     
I never considered cigarettes, 
until I washed up,
 onto this flickering scene.  

Sirens sound, 
Traffic skates, 
strangers smile and frown. 

I-
got myself a traveling circus, 
of people I call friends. 

Funny how little flares of imagination 
send us shooting to the stars-

(party sounds)


Clash!
like banging of pots and pans
The ruckus in the room, 
has me bouncing off the walls

Police Officers, 
neon green tuxedos-  
Penny Lane.  
we are all just here tonight, dancing, 
along this colorful, crazy row-boat of life.  

Yes,
we are all just here tonight dancing- 
like sunlight touching diamonds, 
we are dancing   

It’s 
Funny how little flares of imagination, 
send us all stringing along.


Details | Free verse | |

A Crystal that Darkens

Winter is also celibate.  The conscience is moving,
A frozen light in a frozen eye.  It's raining much looser,
Down a ripped tree.  I couldn't have, 
I couldn't have, in this sin-sick tenderness.
              ___

My face is cracked in my fawnlike fingers;
And the nose betrays an inner child, who
Wouldn't listen to sparrows about being catched.
I just insisted fur was wings.
              ___

The feminine chill on the palm must be sorrow;
When I think of church bells, or mother- 
That I am haunting as raw love.


Details | Free verse | |

In Lost Time

I write to you my self, 
Sending you myself 
With words that I long for you
Need you and care about you 
Hope you, miss you, and want 
To share my heart, my life 
With you, all these written
On a piece of paper 
Capsule in time, in a bottle 
On the way to you
Somewhere some time
You shall get it. 
Floating across 
The seven seas
In lost time…


Details | Free verse | |

Summer Life as a Kid

Sweet Summer breeze
scraped n' bruise covered knees
sidewalk chalk marks on your jeans
torn clothes, worn as badges of Adventure
popsicle stained lips
secret crush kisses
Summer life as a kid
I truly miss it

Snatching fireflies from the skies
watching sunsets dashed with
cayenne pepper cotton candy
clouds
Sunnies nibbling toes
filled with stale bread from mom
kick the can, truth or dare, hide & go seek
mud pie smiles, warm chocolate chip cookies to eat
Summer life as a kid
I truly miss it

Grandmas sweet tea conversations on the porch
covert midnight campfires with friends
from spying little sisters
Ghost stories to tell, marshmallows to toast
climbing trees, fairy tale dreams
being the first one picked
for the kickball team
Summer life as a kid
I truly miss it


Details | Sonnet | |

The Embracing

I cut through tedious chit-chat,
Null knick-knacks!
Zap Idiotic whacks!
I tip toe tapping atop pitters pat.
I’m your best bet seated where you once sat.
Smearing out your tad-bit lacks,
Running them out by the packs,
I tip my hat fancying you purr like my fat-cat.

Up and away my hands shall uplift weights like you.
In and out of reality I’ll take you with me everywhere.
If only you knew how well I’m too do getting through.
Do you think one day to obtain me to be eh unaware?

Personally, I’d charge a big fat whacked out idiotic fee for the likes of thee,
I’m declared as freely expressing many pleasures for the embracing of me.

® Registered: 2010 Ann Rich


Details | Rhyme | |

THE CITY THAT CHARLES DICKENS LOVED

Let's stroll down the London old silent streets,
where the stones of cathedrals never age,
when the orange sun sets on the London Bridge,
and the grotesque, historical Buckingham Palace;
look down: the Thames River gently flows like perfect rhyme,
to revive with its waves' sound someone's lost dreams,
while lampposts await darkness to arrive...
isn't this the city that Charles Dickens loved as deeply as Catherine's face?
Pride of England: the glory of what it was and
still is for all the English that adore their land...
even Shakespeare with his theatrical mind, must have felt great emotion
in contemplating it near dusk to give him an instant surge of inspiration.



London's Dawn-7:40 pm


Details | Free verse | |

God Saw My Distress and Healed Me part 4

This question drives me up and down the walls
I know for certain that God has answered my calls
I can’t hang up on Him…He’s so brilliant
And I’m so little compared to Him…
Maybe I’m little in size and very insignificant compared to the most High
He gives me quite a natural high
He brings me back home and kisses me good night
Without His love, I’d be lost like a sheep losing his shepherd
I feel like I’m separated to God
As if God and I are on both sides of the coin…
Our oceans don’t collide with each other,
But He does make huge tidal waves…
And I make baby waves that swerve up and down
Like a wave’s movement, my life seems to have its low points and high points
But, when I build enough energy, I glide higher than the clouds
Though, unfortunately, I’ve only been dreaming this
Then, I collapse into the sand...my face rubs against it and I have scrapes all over
Sand and water do mix well, but afterwards, the sea shore’s weight will pile up on the bottom of the ocean floor
I can’t imagine how many grains of sand there are on Earth
There are countless amounts of ants on Earth as well
Trillions and trillions of them are in existence
It’s amazing how plants take in Carbon Dioxide
And we breathe in oxygen…
God is a fantastic creator and He did carve His creations pretty well
God saw my distress and He healed me
When I think about Him, I’m speechless and can’t say much
He’s made out of love and He bubbles me up with excitement
I haven’t given Him the credit of working miracles in my life…
But, I don’t want to divorce God…I must propose to Him like a wife
Does to her husband…I want to submit to Him
He made the sunset, the moon and stars
Look! He even made the planets and He healed our scars
He made the flowers, the roses and the creeping bugs
Look! He even made leaves for our eyes to see…
He made the change of seasons
God saw my distress and healed me
God made the wild cats, bears, reptiles
He made us have a brain that is as neat as black and white tiles
God healed me…and I’m simply glad He did so
God wiped out my distress…and He simply dressed me with happiness and He’s in high spirits to see me grow

 ~ Inspired by the band of Evanescence’s song: Never Go Back 
~ God inspired me to write this poem…


Details | Haiku | |

Black and Blue

Urban asphalt trail 

becomes home's huck-pickin' slope. 

Blackberries are ripe!


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku Collection: two

1.
Giant oak alive - 
If you could talk,what stories
Would you tell the world?
2. 
Ornamental sky~
Your melody of grandeur
Sings the earth awake.
3.
Music of the rain,
Your melody is soothing 
To my weary heart.
4. 
The moon overhead
And you standing in it's glow-
I am overwhelmed.
5.
Where bloom the roses,
Love can't be to far behind-
The two always meet.


Details | Rhyme | |

Life Compass

Sometimes I look up
and see Orion there,
his eyes calm and focused
in an eternal stare.
A guardian of stars
A keeper of the night,
he brings me back home
when I've lost my sight.


Details | I do not know? | |

I recall

I recall 
A sweet, white, quaint and quiet home
The place where no one wished to live
Ideal for the overcoming grief
Once the neighbors had settled they stayed there 
And the newcomers intimidated with foul air 
So neighbors we for centuries knew
I think of misfit as our pool
That near the over consumer put

And when we drained it wasn’t gone 
Instead—a shadow on our yard
The yard that once 
Served as a paradise for us
With aged,unkempt ,yet charming barn
The barn that withered now shrunk

And then—the gentle ribbon of blue
Near which the Fertile Forest grew
The snow which verdant pines highlight
The leaves that gilded in the fall
The delicate buds that grew in spring
And in the summer sap with string
 Inside which that we came to bathe 
The water murky did we care?
And through the stream where trout swam
With glimpse of sun in Humid days

And then the rusted shower cabin
Blackened with rot, yet smell wonderful
Outhouse with a giant black hole 
So enormous you fought not to fall


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Day, Was A Holy Day ... '

This Day, Was A Holy Day
As Crystal Drops Came Down
A Beautiful Display
And Soothing Sound

Like An Echo of Joyous Children
Or A Drum-Roll Softly Nearing
Or Like Angels Were Cheering … 
That’s What … It Was Like Hearing !

And It Poured Like A Pitcher
Cool, and Smooth and Clean
Slanting On My Window
Inspiring Me To Sing:

 - - - - - - -

“  Pitter-Patter, Pitter-Patter
Today … Nothing Is The Matter
Plop, Plop, Splatter, Splatter
Inside, We’re All Together

Washing Away Every Tear
Rinsing Away, Every Fear
Refreshing Every Year … 
… Raindrops, Touched Our Dears “

- - - - - - -

This Day, Water Came In Streams
But No Thunder or Lightning Screams
Just Innocent, Wistful, Wet Dreams
And Later, Rainbow Gleams

(And Waiting For Tonight’s Moonbeams) …

Today … Was A Holy Day
As Crystal Drops Came Down
A Beautiful Display
And Soothing Sound …


Details | Haiku | |

A Haiku



The little
wildflowers
of spring blanket my
backyard
till the mower
comes.





Details | Light Poetry | |

Leafraker response

Leafraker, was deep and insightful
Though through his woe, one can be spiteful
To drag his body from the depths
And succeed beyond that of the flesh
So, too he joins in mans defeat and the dawn of anew
Grasping hold of the light as darkness acts in que

The autumn leaves are a sign of a coming winter
But hark in the coming joy! For with earths fire is tinder
A conclusion, climax, end, and final adieu
Speaks of the history of a separate story starting like you
Birth!
From the great mother, her bosom springing 
A new species adjusted like Darwin’s singing!

The dead leaves shrivel and crumple underfoot!
But so to fire creates ash to pock grainy soot
As prelude does not one enjoy the coming of?
The brining about that comes from action and love?
The love of the here and now as Joseph Campbell spoke
Eternity exists with every now provoked

The fields of leaves abound ever acre in scores
but all creatures must attend to this for more
Whether hiding from beast or building an empire with decay
Others growing underneath battling the colds parley

A party exists for what gain? Only to happen again and again
Composer’s notes yield a pause only and refrain
The leafraker is a symbol of change my friend
A semblance of the spring of that’s is rapture like the wind

I say to you under starry sky tonight
Focus on what you can attain with every flicker of the light
But do not sadden when your book is at an end
Look to the new world that exists in your mind to begin
Spark! The light does reign in but wobble under a black hole
So too does the leafraker as new seasons take hold

Speak to me? For when it is spoken it came into being!

--10/18/08 in response to stimuli


Details | Free verse | |

The Corner of my Garden

In the corner of my garden
There is a patch of untouched nature
No trimmed edges or neat hedges
Here beauty is free to roam
Tiny marigold pops gingerly around
The solitary angelic daisy
Hibiscus droops from the nearby bush
A shade for me to rest
And here as I lie on the lacy grass
And see the rays filtering down
I see the doves mating dance
On the branches of the Gulmohar
I close my eyes in contentment
As a two-winged visitor
Brings a little bit of perfume
From the roses in the garden next door

*Gulmohar- a flowering tree native to India.
20/3/13


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Cloudburst

 In the black dirt where the worms flirt
 Trees root in the dark earth
 Fruit falls like a dead limb
 Rain pours like a soft hymn

 Boys whine, girls glow
 Ice forms as the wind blows
 The corn tilts, the hills moan
 The sky hides as the rocks groan

 Reeds sway, dogs bay
 A hungry beast enchants its prey
 The fog blurs, the grass stirs
 And through the mist the moon returns

 And where a tired body bends
 To taste a running stream
 A flood of pounding hailstones rends
 What rain and wind sweep clean

 Written by © Raven Drake


Details | Haiku | |

Snow, Winter's Long Quilt

Snow, Winter’s long quilt,
Land’s white, night beauty treatment....
Future drink for spring.


Details | Quatrain | |

A Note Left Behind (to a Son)

I was born underwater with lungs oversized,
With gills immature in a world full of smog,
I'm filling petition to be cauterized,
And end other chapter in life’s fragile log.

I was born black and white with extremities gray,
The plaintiff accuses what I might hide,
It's nothing but SOUL constantly at play,
With spoonfuls of turquoise rolling down off life's slide...

Implosion of rainbows will probably be
The cause of my passing unknown and alone.
When thrown overboard and deep into sea
I'll finally return to my home long time gone...

I've moved in a place with no windowless chamber,
Where time has no meaning and waiting is painless,
If I had any hopes, I swear - don't remember...
And don't recognize him, his sorrow is senseless.

I have died underwater, reborn in blue nights,
Don't need oxygen to play with the whales.
Remember when watching those great Northern Lights
That Mother is smiling behind Nature’s veils.


for Constances contest "Mother"


Details | Verse | |

Serendipity

     
the contrast made by sky of blue
to snowy rocks and hills so green
of shadowed jades on water’s hue
the peaceful scenes reflect serene
while friends lie sunning side by side
neither wind, nor wave, nor moving tide

Sept. 14 2011 Charles Henderson
for John’s “Nature verse contest”


Details | Rhyme | |

The Present

Gazing out of the window, among the few willows,

Wondering mind, eyes looking yonder,

A cat mews, a cow mows,

The sheep bleat and to the present i bounce.

 

Exploring the wonders of the Great Reef,

The most exotic flower i was about to sniff,

When i found myself at the cliff

Wondering at the wonderful sea.

 

The bang of the door bringing me back to the present,

Bang! back to my current predicament

Upon the table lay the basket

And inside was a well wrapped present.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Snowy Place Of Remembrance

As I stand here alone in the cold wet snow; watching it come down all around its quiet a show.
My fingers are frosty and my face is a cold shade of blue; my toes feel like ice; yet this quiet , peaceful place to me is like  paradise;  from what I have seen once before in a dream  from when I was a younger teen  .
 

White and puffy flakes feel like feathers in my hand; the heavier snow engulfs my dark clothes in a sheet of white creating a blank canvas of the pure white; as clear as a  image of a dove in flight.
Snow is snowing down all round and their not a sound to be had; apart from the echoing wind that seems too surround like a storm of sound which blows my clothes and hair around.
 
I look up at the sky but there’s no detail in sight just a sky of white like a dime light. I see trees  that once  gleamed  green back in the summer and spring now nothing more than  bare trunk’s so empty  from the leaves it once used too bare; from the branches that now seem to lead  nowhere.
This forest once filled with small creatures and birds now empty expect for one living thing a lone boy taking in this majestic scene where animals had once been.
With everything around so silent; its Like are world of violence thought out the ages has written its final pages and brought about a end to are world of violence and bloodshed ; A world where everyone but me is dead  .
 
I feel like I’m the last living being left on our planet; no birds no bees only little old me in this magical world of white I feel I can take flight; and be free not held down by the clutches of are harsh society. 
This snowy place will allways hold a special memory for me; A remembrance to  that snowy place I've once been. 


Details | Free verse | |

Ambrosia

Surely to know the ambrosial quiver
Of stiffened fruit, ripe and swollen
With stolen fragrance and lovely flush
Of seeded solvent all down a furtive face
And up the greedy pink arms of cloud-ward reaching children

Is to know also the jealous rain
Her green glances gorge on mellow delight
Indulgent and impatient with quick eyes
Snatching strokes of waxy flesh
Torrid caress under an austere guise of gray
She is a lean and idle glutton
Who lashes in strife with quickness and lusty strikes

It will be a feast of soul
If you do not slay her first


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Emotional Hole

I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple 
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find 
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow


Details | Imagism | |

Upon our Lake

Petroleum translucent wings wave upon a sage green moss
Whilst vibrating webs in fevered mood delight a flies flight loss
Tinkering thoughts they travel over a calming cool breeze break
Smiling eyes, a touch, a breath, do beguile upon one gentle lake

Cotton thoughts on wistful clouds disturb differing hues of blue
Emerald, limes, rusted umbers enhance breezes as they move
A whimsical dash of mottled fish engrossed in lifes harsh fight
To gather all required whilst avoiding, the silent fishers sight

A hand does stroke the waters as thoughtfully as a lovers face
Whilst oars and gentle droplets dance at such a soothing pace
Non returnable ripples travel onwards with no due care
Words, sights, scents, sounds, precious memories that we share

One day we will be but whisps that relished this cherished place
As lovers new will float on by with a fresh renewed embrace
And maybe if they are just like us they will sit and ponder on
Lovers who were once like them but now are sadly gone


Details | Haiku | |

Nature's Symphonic Breath

Glittering poplars
dance in the breeze's cool gusts
singing like sea waves. 




Details | Haiku | |

silhouette

evening silhouettes
the softness of trees
a lingering sunset
farewell
lovely day


Details | Verse | |

Future Earth

Completely at ease
Calm, tranquil, serene
Bronze skin sunbathing 
Cool breeze

Enveloped in earth's beauty
witnessing creation;
Becoming embodied with the thoughts of perfection,
original earth
original plan of action
Ultimate fulfillment and satisfaction

The old world is no more
We've come fully human
heart and mind restored
No longer noting the difference between
the old world and the new
Completely erased
Renewed

But in the meantime, 
I moan for freedom from strong holds like
sickness and death and oppression
I moan for freedom for the disabled 
the mentally challenged,
the persecuted and their transgressions

Freedom from racism, injustice
ignorance, violence and depressions
I moan to end war, rape, incest
exploitation, thievery and anxiety

That was not the original plan
But the earth will be restored
and be as beautiful as it began


Details | I do not know? | |

Chapters

Our lives are like stories 
Like the ones found in books
We all play our part in the plot
But you were a bit more than just a character
Babe, you were a chapter

Chapters begin and end so quickly
So fleeting, like the way we would flirt
A heart-pounding beginning with a dry, cold close

I'm saying good bye 
This is for every time I could have cried
This is for every night that you forgot I exist
But I haven't shed a tear on you and, boy, I'm not gonna try
This is for every single mean thing you say
This is me deciding not to pretend I'm looking the other way
This is something I'm doing for me
So good bye, cause no longer will I be the girl who is blind

The chapter has sealed itself shut
So sit in your room and play some mean songs about me
I don't care, I know somebody with nicer hair

As a kid you must have been the bully on the playground
I'm done being the girl you give affection to and push down 
And I'm tired of standing on the sidelines while you try to run the show
I'm gonna move on with my life 
Prove there are things you will never know
There are things that books can't tell you 
Things only the heart can understand
You don't have one of those
So, pardon me, if I don't consider you a man

The chapter has ended but I won't shed a tear
The future's too bright for me to look back to darkness










Details | Haiku | |

great destructive wind

great destructive wind
not often felt in Britain
      don’t trust Michael Fish


Details | Free verse | |

Innocence Lost

Can innocence lost
Be ever returned
Or a heart, tainted and broken
Be cleansed, made whole once more?

Can a tree, longing for summer's warmth
Summon its leaves from cold autumn grounds
To return to naked branches
That it may feel joyful and alive again?

Can a child, disillusioned
Relive broken dream
Changing fate
To find naivety return?

Can joy be had in innocence lost
Or beauty be discovered, resting in sadness?
When birth of spring and warmth of summer pass by
Till all that remains is the still and quiet of winter
Will warmth be rekindled?


Details | Lyric | |

A Lazy Afternoon

I sit  on my deck on this lazy afternoon
watching the sun move slowly to the west

The leaves are dancing on the oak tree out back 
from a breeze gently blowing from the south

A sparrow is hopping from post to post 
on the old fence down by the road

A little squirrel  playing  and running around
to the top of the tree and down to the ground

then I hear a whistle from a distant train
And the rhythm is like music to my ears

I  think to myself  what wonderful way 
to spend a  beautiful  lazy  afternoon


Details | Senryu | |

Driving in the Fog

Driving in the fog--
Eyes wide, and creeping down a
road without edges.


Details | Free verse | |

Tears of My Heart

if poop could be named anything what would you name it?  id name it bob and id make him sit on a log in a bog and say get out of here you hog that looks like fog from a bog thats near a log with bob sitting on it who attacked the wacking wackers with all his heart and shattered, he fell to the floor.  dont name your poop bob because then youll have tears in your heart.


Details | Sonnet | |

One Seed

I planted a seed and it grew and grew.
It grew so high touching a cloudy sky.
With one main branch it sprouted high.
I cut it down telling myself I’m through.
 
But that main branch stayed so true.
I started watering daily at noon nigh.
And I would always wave good bye.
I can’t even tell you the birds it drew.
 
That branch was awesome.
Every day a new leaf to see.
Always a flowering blossom.
New blooms would always be.
 
It is amazing at what one seed can do.
Even those seeds lying inside of you.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Free verse | |

My Morning Revelation

I just got back from my morning walk
I had forgotten how exhilarating it is
To watch the sun rise
Up over the hills of Beirut.

The campus where I teach is simply breathtaking
Nestled cozily in the pine tree forests on top of a hill,
It offers a panoramic view of Beirut

Many years back this was not a good thing
As the army brought a tank up to the upper campus
To shell enemy positions in Beirut
And our campus got riddled with bombs
We spent our days in shelters
While our campus burst into flame

But this morning, I didn’t remember any of that
I walked on the lower campus and gazed out at Beirut
I walked like a fool....my eyes looking up
Saying a shy good morning to the clouds
And a warm good morning to the One beyond

While I did my sit-ups on one of the benches
I looked up into the jacaranda tree
Its branches were naked, but I knew, I knew that in spring
It would be regal in purple finery
That would enchant all those who walked
Under the train of its beauty
Later it would rain purple petals down on all
But purple kisses for me, for I’m in love with this hue

As a reward, as always… I drove up to the upper campus
While listening to music, my second passion
As my car made the turns
I tried to keep my eyes on the road
And not fixed on the hills where the sun was getting ready
To make his glory known
Nor down on Beirut that was just waking up from slumber

I passed places that my heart cherished
Where my husband first asked me to be his
Where we parked the car and looked at
The dazzling lights of Beirut at night
Our hearts ablaze with the burning passion of youth
The place where he wanted to claim possession of me
But held back…honoring custom and tradition 

I drove down slowly
I drove down reluctantly
I wanted to relive everything
To find the joy of being alive, once more
I had forgotten how beautiful the mornings are
I had forgotten who I am in the great scheme of things
But HE reminded me…
As the sun pushed through the clouds and shone in brilliance
The verse came to my mind…
“And the Son of Righteousness will rise with healing in His wings.”
Arise in my heart, for I need your healing!

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Details | Free verse | |

FOR THE LOVE OF MY COUNTRY

Hundredth diamond
In the middle of an ocean
the place where it live a nation...
...Seychellois
Mix of race unique and unite
We live like a whole family

Yes!
you are the most beautiful one
You are the most precious one
Where your greeness is the decoration
Of its nature
Yes, the place I called paradise

With the inspiration of the poets
I will express
With the melodies of the singers
Will give echo to my words

For you, I will do anything
If I have to, I will give my life
For you
Good Morning, Good Night
Our unforgettable tradition
We must preserv

Because it is a precious
Treasure that we owe
Because for the love 
Of my country
I will build my future


Details | Quintain (English) | |

Our Song Unsung

"There is something coming over me"
Love in everything_its amazing
Must be spring has pronounced decree
Great romance aflame blazing 
All the birds, crickets in song praising
Memories surfing corners of my mind
The spring of my life when we were young
The young love that we have left behind
Young love amazing, all reason to wind flung
Oh! For that spring again, our song unsung

Contest: English Quintain A Spring Day
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
February 02, 2012


Details | Free verse | |

Goddess of night

You lay in the arms of darkness;
a rose bleeding pedals across the sky
and your pure tears of light 
drip upon cities and seas and forests.

Why do you cry, Mirror of hearts?
Your beauty, none could surpass.
Your countenance, like that of an angel… and yet lonely.
Do you weep for your captivity to Time?
Is the sadness you permeate for humanity’s oblivion?
In the distance I hear wolves calling your name
and you smile sadly, stroking their yearning howls with mystery. 
The hallows of sound echo your soft humming throughout the past.
For a brief moment, your tenderness is tangible.
Then, ominously you shroud yourself with Heaven’s mist
like a bride to marry the sky.

Dawn will soon awake the birds in song…
Illumination will conquer the hold of darkness
and you will leave, only to return again.

I will see you once more, my beautiful
Goddess of night.


Details | Limerick | |

Mundane Infernality

As strong as I'am after all I've been in tune.
Couldn't believe that I lives haven one's unbeing.
Even when am afar to tire to fall asleep. 
If then wasn't a time and once I were to reflect.
Since awful truths is all that is coming into being  appetative.


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Wolf's Howl ... '

Have You Ever Heard
A Lone Wolf’s Howl
… Sends Chills, Up My Spine
In Memory, (Even Now)

… Not Out Of Fear …
That’s Not What I Hear
It’s A Longing
A Calling

A Soul-Star Rising
And Vocalizing
A Notice … A Need
A Heed of The Breed

He’s Lifting His Head
Out Of The Dark
Not Like A Bark
But, Rite of Passage-Mark

Thru the Air, ‘Hahooooo’ Zooms
In Moonlight, and in Tune
A Long, Mellow Note
The Wolf Sung-Spoke

Wolf, is Howling To Say …
Same Things, We Pray …

Have You Ever Heard 
A Lone Wolf Howl
Sends Chills, Up My Spine 
(Even Now) ! …


Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Baggage Claim

Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival, 
          I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches 
                                                Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
          Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
                                                He holds the key to this new world.

The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience 
          Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped 
                                                Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence 
          Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped 
                                                Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.

My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
          In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
			   Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
          On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
                                                Our intrepid journey commences...


Details | Rhyme | |

I forgot to remember to forget

When moonlight does fade
and morning is at its best,
basking in the sunlight
that peeps above the crest.
When rainbows flirt with meadow
then aimlessly drifts away,
sprinkling silver droplets
to dampen newly mowed hay.
When rolling clouds descend
then linger within the valley,
with grey stone walls to blend
In main street and murky alley.
When summer sunset expires
begins to wane, turns to rust,
many cloudless days to ponder
before pasture mutates to dust.
These memories have followed me
through days honest and true,
an era gone, yet a moment
to share this vision with you.
“My mind belongs to yesterday

copyright 2010 Harry J Horsman
of that I have no regret,
just like playing an old ‘78’ rpm record
I forgot to remember to forget!”



Details | Free verse | |

a spec on a screen

i attempt to take a breath as structure slips away,
two lips and a whisper changed a universe today,

patterns contort and minds tilt ajar,
my soul is dumbfounded in sight of this art,


head in the clouds, where home isn't far,
seems ages away, knee deep in the stars,

i know not, the language,
i can not define,
but i know that its coming,
it's growing, it's mine.



Details | Haiku | |

Life-Haiku

Twists and turns are life
Happy or sad, you decide
It shall stay that way


Details | Acrostic | |

Delighted Dreamy Eyes

Beneath the golden sunset two lovers watch the skies.
Embraces race straight to the heart where true love lay.
Arise, oh, soul and sing; great joy brings this surprise.
“Charming,” held me on the beach; my prince passed life's way. 
Hopefulness bequeathed sweet tears to delighted dreamy eyes. 
 
Beneath the night-lights in the sky, a million twinkles sparked.
Loneliness was chased away; sorrows succumbed to daze.
Alluring dreams and tenderness anticipated; trust embarked.
Neolithic passion paved the way into my heart, oh, happy days.
Kisses and caresses tattooed two souls with love's eternal mark. 
Everlastingly life, now shared, grows, friendship still ablaze.
Together, walking winding roads through hardships and fairways. 

Before the sunrise burst the dream, blankets blew in sand.
Interspersed reality saw tomorrow amid floating clouds.
Nonetheless, a princess dreamed; her prince led her by the hand. 
Great, now, is the memory of an envisioned certainty.
Optimisms saved the day when “Happily-ever-after” came my way.

© July 4, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for:  "BEACH BLANKET BINGO" 	
Sponsored by: Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.


Details | Sonnet | |

Four Winds of Heaven

My wind to the East you are my least.
My wind to the West you are the test.
Each and every day you are your best.
Each and every day you battle a beast.
 
My wind to the South you are a feast.
My wind to the North you are a crest.
Each and every day you never do rest.
Each and every day a new life leased.
 
The Sun makes your air.
The Moon is your guide.
Stars are always up there.
All of you are my pride.
 
Each of you I will easily leaven.
You are my four winds of heaven.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Sonnet | |

Matted Layers

I came from behind and my God at what I saw.
I was astonished and in disbelief seen by you.
I counted exact minutes with the seconds too.
But I stood there intact with no lines to draw.
 
There are many versions of Grace Verse’s law.
So I read through them one by one until blue.
So I picked up the torch it was all I could do.
I was a flame burning stoked in complete awe.
 
I gave glory to the Sun and Moon,
I exalted a few Stars along my way.
I even rode in on a cloud at noon,
It was a bright beautiful blessed day.
 
But there were matted layers of deception,
I guess you can only imagine my reception.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Rhyme | |

Forgotten Things

We went through woods to find
Our pleasantries of mind;
We lovers of forgotten things.
There nestled in the wild,
Sat picket fence and fig.
And on a dancing twig,
A boy found a dragonfly.
Others hovered nearby,
But this one did not fly
When gently he stroked its wings.
Oh the joy that summer brings;
To touch a dragonfly
In a place long untouched by child.


Details | Pastoral | |

Hot, Sweet, Sweltering, July

Hot, sweet, sweltering July
When all you can hear are distant hummings
Of inside fans and flies incessant drumming
Fans rattling inside, flies outside amongst the grasses.
Time seems to stand so very still.

Just the act of breathing
Leaves some beaded sweated tears
Some tiny drops of condensation
Along the hollows of your breasts
And the hollows of your mind's years.

There is no place to escape to
This heat hangs like a canopy
Impenetrable to any cool winds
Like the heaviest of parlor drapes
All winds are captive, within a coffin held.

Even the whitest of whites
Can do nothing to repel against this heat
And even the lightest of T-shirts
Leaves one desiring to wear much less
To be bare and wear nothing at all would be
One's preferred exotic and chosen dress.

The low hum of the box fans
And the ceiling fans in the sky
A reminder that there is some belief
That they might move a bit of air
To gain some temporary relief.

Strategically placed for battle
Against this stagnant heat
Their whirling blades end up doing nothing
But acting as hopeful placebos
Against this hot, sweet, sweltering July.

 

(January 27, 2011  Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved


Details | Free verse | |

Bonny Isles

A sparkling jewel
Of nature
It brings peace
To my soul
Fills the 
Empty hole
Slows down
My heartbeat
Stops the retreat
And rebuilds
Refills
My heart
With wonder
With hope
With silence.
Pained
As I am
By my past
The re-casting
Of my being
The removal
Of my all-seeing
Alter-ego
Is a certainty
When on the boat
To Lerwick
With waves
Licking
The sides
And the rhythm
Of the slow
Humming
Engine
Slowing my rhythm
Sending
Me to sleep.
Gets me
Dreaming of
The glistening sea
This wondrous
Place
This hidden
Space
Where few
Do tread
And the calm
Descends
From
The first step
From the lack
Of Chain Stores
The Out-of-date
News
The stormy weather
Views
The Cream Buns
The Long lasting
Sun
A slow
Drifting
Pace
The hundred
Private beaches
The performing stars
At night
A delight
To my heart

I dream of another place


Details | Rhyme | |

The Sacred Path's

Follow me to the metaphysical plains where spirits graze, 
we'll get lost in the darkest parts of the forest for days, 
following any direction that nature sways, 
ocular perceptions in a Kaleidoscopic maze, 
ascending infinitely in a spiritual phase, 
psychedelically extracting thoughts the mind never portrays, 
nostalgia quickly decays, 
there was never a place for us among society anyways.


Details | I do not know? | |

Distant African Nights

Those Distant African Nights...


1.


The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,

a cool breeze teasing your bare back,


streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,

as my hands stroked your hair,

kissing your soft mouth,

holding you,

ever so tight.



2.


You whispered that you loved me,

and I kept silent,


the rain fell, 
shadows danced,
thunder rolled,

the breeze teased your naked back,

you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,

the rain washed over our tender nights,


lightning and candlelight,

etching poems on your burnished skin,


yet,

a fear gnawed at me,

deep within.



3.


We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,


now, after numberless thunderstorms,

the rain that falls,


echo the countless tears that I have shed.



4.


You are long gone,

far away,

happy, I pray,


yet the memories persist,

those precious moments shall never, 
ever,

like the Jo'burg rains,
trickle away,

and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,

for it was I who was not worthy,


then,


and it is I who is not worthy,


now...



5.


You were always true,


it was I who always,

always,

refused to,


to give myself,


completely to you.






Details | Lyric | |

The Rebel

Dank, cold, unperturbed indifference,
Untouchable, yet touching all,
Unresolved in meaning,
Still creating each and every fall,
Every whim and leaning.

Touché pas! A cry of weary hate,
And will not accept a helping hand,
‘Till death! Brazen adverse in face of fate,
And alone in piteous stand…

Lone wolf we cry, thy fate is nigh,
Yet stands he still resisting,
That love should die, that only tie,
In error still persisting…


Details | Rhyme | |

A World Finished

Snakes flying all over in the air 
And all creatures living without care
Wild animals swimming in the water 
Grouped or ungrouped does not matter
Strange to see all this happening 
No worry and none frightening 
The scorpions chose to suck the blood 
A sort of senseless, baffling method   
But then a cloud full of earthworms landed on earth
Wherever possible the creatures giving birth  
And the walking prawns on the land 
Don’t care for being with the sand 
Bothered only to get into the cloud 
And eating the worms, feeling proud 
Bats flying in random
No one feeling boredom 
Snakes and bats colliding with each other in air 
All that happens, for they don’t scare    
So much populated and dense the world turned out to be 
Some people living like animals by hanging on the tree  
That nothing seems to be in control 
Living without responsibility and role 
All living things, blatant by the heart 
They all concerned only to play their part
Never felt that they are hurting others 
Pulling hair and snatching feathers
As nobody feeling the pain 
Nothing to lose and gain 
Some people dying on the spot 
Never bothered and care about  
But many more of them giving birth wherever they like 
And the population without shame is always on the rise  
Nothing bothered the people 
No matter if they are not capable
Dragons, crocodiles, beasts all around 
In the waters and on the land they are found 
And no chance to construct a house and live in 
They all concerned only about eating and drinking in  
If anything comes their way they will do it 
But not education they prefer for the solution 
As there is no importance given to education 
One should realize that if there is no education 
Then for all the problems there will be no solution 

 


Details | I do not know? | |

The Sieve of Time



The Sieve of Time



Cast ashore,
along the banks of time,

whirling through the passing years,
clinging to my futile scribbles set in rhyme,


Cast ashore,
thrust into an unrehearsed pantomime,

clenching slivers of joy as weariness descends,
lulled into a peaceful slumber exhilaratingly sublime.


Cast ashore,
hazily adrift, a dandelion seed on the wings of time,

trapped in the sieve of spiralling memories,
caught between pristine bliss, and reeking slime.


Cast ashore,
flung aside for no discernible crime,

my human heart thuds with elusive hope,
though battered, bruised, and covered in grime,

I stagger ashore, 

alone,

embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.



Details | Lyric | |

Autumn Giggles

Horizontal Vertigo --
amongst the wet raked leaves,
Gazing into gorgeous blue; 
where clouds --
Are passing frogs or horses;
In a pair of grass-stained Levi’s.

A subtle wind --
Tickles all the colored leaves,
So drenched in spattered sunlight;
Still falling --
As she rakes the cooling leaves;
So brilliant --
Over happy giggles.


Details | Free verse | |

Goodbye

Comforting words
Smooth, quiet tones
Reassurance 
complete confidence 

Long nights spent reasoning
In total understanding
Twin thoughts 
twin minds
twin miseries
and twin fates

Now it’s so quiet
Too quiet
Complete and utter silence....
Oh my God, 
What happened to the good old days
When we both made sense?!

Lost in blurry dreams of childhood
Colorful, wonderful, windy days
Subconscious cradled memories 
of the times when we 
were eachother’s only friends

Only you, 
	the sky
		the earth
			and me...


				No betrayal

			No lies
		No fire

	No hate

No regrets.

I think I can understand 
why you won’t face me
But your sudden silence
is so confusing

Did you ever know me well enough
to know my affection for ultimate honesty?
If you wanted me to go away
why didn’t you just say something? 

Only this emptiness is left
Inconsolable grief...
For what never again can be 

No warning
No parting words
No ceremony

You went and had the funeral 
for our friendship
but did not invite me

From the start
I thought these ways would always be
But in the end,
All I wanted, my friend 
was to say 
goodbye.

I can’t trust anyone
anymore
anyway

All alone again
shame on me


Details | Imagism | |

Bear and Salmon

Bear.....

stone clad shores
welt beneath your warmth
fir lined trees
stand silent in your presence
misted waters raise to greet a vibrant sky in jubilation

as salmon fight ferocious rapids
you
intent
listen and watch
baited breath
silent

your cumbersome claw hovers as a wieghtless mosquito
dancing hithertoo
for that oh so perfect
catch

titanium
spray
avoids your touch
end the salmon's day


Details | Free verse | |

where the heart is strong

When I was young, I had no desire to grow roots.
Home happened where ever I kicked off my boots.
Now that I have traveled many lands,
I wish only to go back home.
To feel it, to see it, to hold it in my hands.
I wish no longer to roam.
Youth tends to be arrogant and blind.
Not knowing what I had, for home was mine.
Now it is the place for which I yearn.
The place from which I came, and wish to return.
The passing of time can have a strange effect on the heart.
After many wasted years, one wants to be back where we start.
Funny how being away for so long can change a soul.
Just as equally strange how coming home can make one whole.
This is where I will always belong,
For this is where my soul is at ease and my heart beats strong.









Sarah Comstock
5/20/00


Details | Free verse | |

about the ashes

Mnemosyne's colour wheel glitches through August,
on that candid orange the dogs howled into
during our autumn countdown.
When we still had a countdown.
When we still had August. 

I remember the moonlight traveling westward 
and seeing your face lined with silver.
I remember Artemis taking an emergency exit and landing,
landing in the closest pool of warmth. You, you, you.
And I remember dreaming. I remember testing 
what the world was like outside of you.

The singed leaves remind me how to breathe
on this street, the same way you used to.
I am learning about the ashes.
Sometimes we must burn the atlas
before charting ourselves from scratch.
Sometimes love must die, first.

In heaven's attic, even angels lose their meaning.
Returning only, when someone remembers:
the attic is still a part of home.
When touching means dust on your fingers.
When suddenly, you are intruding.


Details | Free verse | |

Memories of Leaf Boats

As I grow older my memories become more veiled and sometimes lost.
But the best are yet to come as I write them down, of that I can’t ignore.
For my most cherished memories I’ll pass down, as the stories continue to stir.

Like the wonder I felt as a child… while sailing leaf boats down a creek.
Where would they end up? Would they find they’d sailed to foreign lands?
Or would they be defeated by the storms as they came rolling in?

Later I was awed by the thought that my future hubby would even talk to me.
We were so very bashful; that we were lucky, that we even came to be.
The trick was we were first friends…then, willing to hold together in the winds.

We became like one little leaf boat fighting together against the storms, again.
Then we became parents trying to raise our children with wonder in their eyes.
So we started by finding a creek where their leaf boats would be near, to find.

Eventually grown, they finally left us, so I sent them poems about those little boats.
Perhaps to help remind them: to start new memories for their brood, coming close.
Maybe even to remind them that life could still bring them wonders, too, once more.

Eventually, we will all sail away in one way or another, to distant shores.
I hope my poems will lead them, to where those wonders can still be found…
They will be able to find them by a creek with leaf boats floating around.

 I hope it will bring them memories; again, of the days we held them so close.
And had read to them the stories… I had written for those, I love the most.


Details | Haiku | |

Reflection

Somber, forgotten:

Young taunting winds encircle

Lone-standing cactus.


Details | Cinquain | |

Pink Gloam

pink gloam a reflection of sunsets long ago mirroring my longing of days gone by


Details | Imagism | |

My Dreams

I dream of sun , I dream of star .

I dream to go beyond too far .

I dream to run , I dream to fly .

I dream to rise above  the sky.

I dream to love , I dream to smile .

I dream to catch happiness for a while.

I dream of fun , I dream to dance.

I dream to renew world at a glance .

I dream of a birth , I dream of  a life .

I dream of a love that needs me to survive........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Details | Haiku | |

Deceased Wilderness

The mossy fields host
Refreshed animal spirits
Now they all lie here.


Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: The Market

Shuffling sandstone, infinite shimmering coloured pots,
TV remotes lie in tandem with jeans, shiny toy robots
Act as magnets to the unwary tourist, conspicuous in
Their presence, shorts and cameras, humid hair in knots.

Spices of hues in their hundreds to make you salivate,
Groaning shack tables of suspicious sunglasses sate
Your appetite for purchases, the sun beats down on
The market, Medina bursting with life which cannot wait.

Eyes flicker over unsuspecting strangers, enticing you
To buy, trapped by the lure of a carpet woven new
By sweating men grasping, chasing any chance to sell
The future. Will you ever use this carved snooker cue?


Details | Free verse | |

Our Divine Haven

This town was the place we used to call our haven 
You don’t remember which road we’ve driven on 
The stars were shining against your cherished soul 
You’re a part of my belongings 
You’re ascending above the ground 
The peace is still like hidden treasure – it’s bound to be found

I believe in you…I put my faith in you
After the miracles you’ve performed 
You don’t agree with what you truly are 
The sky is grieving 
You jump from puddle to puddle
You’re struggling to meet your destiny  
Even if your body is saturated in sweat
You must keep your head above the sea

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
I could tell you've been stressing out 
But rest your head on my shoulders and let loose your strain on me  

Each melody is an exquisite sound that bounces into our ears
Commotion and strife will cease and your heart will be free
We’ll flee  together…despite the unwholesome weather 
The voyage has just begun…hold my hand and we’ll rise like the sun
Trust me…we will be strengthened and well-equipped before we take that road of victory  

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
You’d rather be drifting away and never be seen again 
I wanna change your mind and erase your frown
Take your mind off of the distressful past
Let loose your strain on me  

Hey! I know you’re stronger than you realize
You’re not a failure – don’t be disheartened  
Don’t worry…you and I will earn our future prize 
This mess will clear up in a moment
Just stay by my side and never depart 
From the light… I promise that we’ll endure till the end
Just stay nearby and our hope won’t tear apart
We are willing to do anything to attain our wishes and delight  
Let’s take action and snatch our glory before our time is up 

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
You've been trying to keep a steady pace 
But rest your head on my shoulders and let loose your strain on me

Let loose your stress on me…
Don’t be under pressure
Let me handle your anxiety…
Reach towards our divine haven
Do you need a helping hand? 

I wish you a carefree 
Future


Details | Haiku | |

Streambed

Green moss over stone
Tumbling in shy sunlight
Following the ghost



For "Solace in Nature" contest


Details | Free verse | |

Mother Nature

The beat of Mother Nature’s heart is in a rhythmical pattern,
Echoing around the forest through the song of birds.
My hair sways with the gentle breeze,
And the glistening sun shines down upon me,
The screams of joy and happiness carry on through the field, until it reaches me.
And I find that life isn’t always about the sufferings of humanity
But it can be about simple things; the adrenaline that courses through a small child as 
they run through the grass
And when you look at trees, you think of their age and what they’ve seen.
The knowledge that they must have is formidable,
Yet it’s comforting to know that something so silent, holds a thousand secrets.
Each leaf tells a story, and dies in the seasons. 
For new children come with their tales to be made
And the birds that surround the branches sing in harmony with Mother Nature.
It’s here, in this moment, that I realise there is no God.
Mother Nature is purely a personification of a child’s innocence.
For we, humanity, are our own God.
And our holiness surrounds us, in every breath we take.
In every thought, and every image we capture.
A secret, to be told.


Details | Sonnet | |

Old Blue-tick Hound

Damn old worthless dog. How lazy he lies 
in shade on my porch, by my rocking-chair.
Good but for flea food or a perch for flies
too old to bark at a wild hog or hare.
He’s fast asleep with one half open eye
as if to protect me, like he still could.
His old body sore and I know that I
(for his old age) must put him down for good.

Like a thank you for nothing, same as a 
gentle pat on the head. A gift to guard 
him from pain, to cut short his days so they
won’t be his burden. My sympathy charred
and heart destroyed, to give my old pal this
reward, this kindness, this murderous kiss.


Details | Alliteration | |

Sunset Siesta

The soft rays shoot my eyes
The green grass awakes
On my laps, open like banana leaves
Is a cover-less book
It is about a bread of sorrow

Yonder, a greenly hill gasps
And hinders valleys
Valleys that hinder folks
Folks that bore a damsel
Damsel who gives me sleepless nights

A cat passes by, meows and walks by wayside
Silently, it stalks my new dove
Shhhw; Shwwww, Shwww
And with a "Relax master, I just wanted to play; lol" look
It joins its master and its tummy growls like it has complaining worms

A highland sunset, like all other sunset
Never replicates!
And that is how daily experience is
Never replicates!
Sadly, we witness the death of a day-everyday
A day we never have enough!


Details | Haiku | |

Three

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

cracks reminding us 
a calender hangs silence 
by all irony.

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

Practice for the blind 
circulation shutting down
shall twist towards plot

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

Running for their skin,
civilised sugar paper , 
for response alone.

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


Details | I do not know? | |

Just Down the Road

The boy I was so many years ago
Loved to visit his grandpa
Who lived in the best of places 
This city dweller could imagine so

Those Ozark Mountains were adventure to me
I the boy and trusted BB gun in tow
Did explore the river bottom and climb tall trees
To breath the mountain's cold air made this boy feel free

The explorer I became for rocks snakes and frogs
To romp after a bee just to see where it would go
Or play in grandpa’s barn while watching my step
Go fishing with grubs taken from under dead logs

The swimming hole was by a low water bridge
Just a quarter a mile at the bottom of the hill
The tall weeping willow which offered its branches
Served the hot summer days as the ideal plunging package

As I recall how that red Arkansan chert path flowed
How this boy’s grandest adventures for nature and beauty were made real
For to walk again the paths of ancient Indians
What grandness grandpa gave me when I traveled just down the road  


Details | Imagism | |

The Morning Dawn of Afternoon

All around I hear no sound
exposed and clear 
lie objects fresh and quiet near
beneath fluffed clouds painted white 
next to skies of listless blue 
where thoughts rumble loud but silent through
the morning dawn of afternoon.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

When Alone

When skies are bluer than ever before
and clouds disappear from sight
I am alive
When thunderstorms flash white
and the rains come
I am alone
When daffodils burst forth from the snow
and crocus peep through
I am alive
When winter cold and trees barren
and leaves lie on frozen floor
I am alone
I want to face life's storms
with friends who hold my hand
and family who clearly states,
"You are not alone"
Then, I will live.


Details | Couplet | |

The Old Red Barn

The morning sun glows the orange horizon.
Children asleep, soundless, in the back seat,

The daybreak dew sparkles on breezy leaves.
Sunflowers bow toward the distant east.

Winding roads traversing far-off landscapes.
The hum of the engine mesmerizes.

Peacefulness shines through a few floating clouds.
Blueness not quite showing in skies above -

No other vehicle for miles around.
The window rolled part way down, breathes freshness.

Golden grains wave with poise in western fields
Black and white cows moo, in pastures, grazing.

Wake up!  Look Children!  I remember well.
The old red barn in the distance, smiling.


© November 4, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen


Details | Kimo | |

Snowy Pathway

Path was covered over with freezing snow The beauty is astounding White and cold to the touch The trees hold a touch of this miracle Powdered on the soft branches It sure is breathtaking I walk down the still carpeted pathway The breeze picks up the snowflakes I breathe deeply this air Fresh air enters my cool chest that’s heaved high This landscape is inspiring One I can draw words out Pleasantly I walk towards my warm home Where my cocoa awaits me And a fire to enjoy
Russell Sivey


Details | Lyric | |

Put My Eyes To Sleep

I have felt the heavy mists
 of a disappearing life 
a life not held within my grasp
 and yet I have struggled
 I have always struggled 
always to travel on
 
Not alone
 not on my own
not alone upon my path
 engraved upon my hands
 a map of this life's journeys
 and some plans
 that no earthly soul can read
 
I open my mind to see 
beyond these heavy mists
 of these disappearing days
 that enclose me
 that will someday all to soon
 put my eyes to sleep
 



(c) Copyright by Christine A Kysely
 (November 9, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)
 








Details | Tanka | |

Soft Peony Clouds

soft peony clouds
ensconced with wet petals
drops of liquid sun
pools in earthly hollows
reflect sky and earth as one



(June 19, 2011  Wausau, Wisconsin USA)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved


Details | Rhyme | |

Tis A Familiar Sight I've Seen

Tis a familiar sight I've seen,
A splash of red against the snow.
The only other color is green,
But this does not interest him I know.
Flitting in and out of holly trees,
I wonder what it is he sees?
What brings him out on a day as this?
Perhaps it is the wintriness
That stirs in him an innate desire
To see nature without summer's fire.


Details | Rhyme | |

ECHOES OF THE HEART

A teenager's wish couldn't be granted,
it was unfairly and abruptly silenced
by fate when that heart's fervent voice loved to sing;
what it sought was joyful days of a perennial spring!



The flight over a calm sea and a windy ocean was fearful and long... 
I felt extreme sadness exploding inside: departing from a lovely town  
with verdant trees and grassy hills illuminated by the nascent dawn;
did I feel any joy entering a city with skyscrapers chocked by smog?
  


In any yearning heart, memory cuts down the distance set by miles
when Motherland reminds it of its stars creating a twinkling spectacle...
that's when echoing words evoke something too vivid and incredible;
and assuming I never grew up, I run and catch those pretty fireflies. 
     


Details | Haiku | |

The Juice Of Orange

the juice of orange
stains the limpid swimming pool, 
from the falling leaves


Details | Sonnet | |

Another World

Where do we go when we go away?
And why is it that we have to leave?
What happened to Adam and to Eve?
Where is the greatest scale to weigh?
 
Where do we go when we want to stay?
What about this great big world weave?
What about you what do you believe?
So what dues do we have left to pay?
 
Why me?
Why you?
I can see?
You do to!
 
I think we’ve all been twirled,
All the way into another world!
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Rhyme | |

Where Red Waters Gather

I live in a state shaped by glaciers long ago
In the middle of the heat, we want it to snow
The breadwinner of many homes is what we grow
Here comes another winter, around forty below
Watch out for black ice roads wherever you go
Summer is six months away, yep, don't ya know
Melting snow makes for one big old muddy hole
Changing seasons so often, a backcountry expo
Minnesota fearing Green Bay Packers on a roll
Wilderness found up north, catch it on a pole
Mississippi flowing to its west into the soul
Universities preparing us, system educational
Wisconsinites moving forward on our loam soil
Architectonics with Frank, ingenuity and toil
Hydroelectrical powered first on the Fox flow
Conservationists residing, protecting fallows
Sesquicentennials of livestock, corn in silos
Characteristically unique, breadbasket tempos


Details | I do not know? | |

I Sat Beside A Dead Fox

river. gold
liquidcopper sheen & skypulp
mashed upon fatrocked banks 
refracted beams;
reflections.
The kid squeal.
The rowers chirp "hello"
[multiple oar-chasm] we bridge it
with a languid arm-sigh tooing, no fro. Yes, 
the 20th century is over,
and the "Water-Noodle" 
has arrived.

Time works different out here.

The national spine
doesn't belong
to a book. No. Hold land
in check,
meaty planes 
sewed onto bone.

Through the
geothermal corridors
where karadji's file into rooms
discussing the hunt

laymen like me
listen in
on dragonfly wings.

Cherubs 
land.... "Mum, you're an old fart!"
snorty laughs
splashy goodness
erections stay
low. Kookaburras 
slot into. Their laugh 
lingers like a
splinter in my throat

and I don't follow.

Family's an ascending arc
orbiting 
this chubby orphan
(he is all sickle,
shaped like a question mark.)

Re-arrangements.
"I want to see if the wombat's home!"
He's a dad alright, his salt 'n' pepper laugh more convincing
than George Clooney. Paper grows inside us
in wet reams.

It's all an odd proud thing, this lick of space.

The noise retreats, my heady sight dangles. Dizzy
eyeball flesh in quicksand vaguely mired. 
A bordered scene:
a symmety of Mates bathing in
coy homophobia
their gargantuan cocks
reaching so far 
to touch each other! Forbidden
to break the old pattern.

This goldpan face persists. Is life a Saturation?
Moist is good I like moist. Hairline dwellers
polite oracles.
My feet naked next 
to cigarette butts & weed
the tethering of a slight libido
a moist amulet hangs like a beard;
sophisticated mist from the muddy cauldron.

Copyright. 2009.


Details | Dodoitsu | |

OUR YULE IMAGINATION

A season ago we stood
in this spot where the pine grove
was greener than the thick grass,
we looked above and saw stars.


Then was a starlit August,
a month all lovers adore,
but returning in December...
the pine grove had turned white.


Ah! No longer we could spread 
our blanket and dream as kids!
Ah! No longer the stars would
gather and shed light on us!  


And since not one pine tree was
adorned with lights, an idea
sparked our Yule imagination:
to put a star on all of them!




Entered in Russell Sivey's contest,
" Natural Dodoitsu "
Written  by Andrew Crisci on 12/26/12


Details | Free verse | |

Dusk

As the leaves fall to the ground,
I see the glowing sun slip to the horizon.
A soft wind blows with a cooling sound,
And clouds march across the skies.

The amber disk falls earthward,
Giving the clouds a heavenly glow.
The wind swirls the leaves,
Forming omens in the air.

I go to leave this scene,
I watch all that goes on,
And witness a beauty that will come again,
With every day, from dusk to dawn.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Midsummer Contemplation

Summer showers clarify the peace
Suns arms of warmth gently sooth through the window of a lonely room, gliding across dusty 
shelves
The forests chorus of birds harmonize with the breezes whisper as droplets of crystal rest on 
lit leaves
Clouds in flight swim through the ice blue skies
They all seem to have their own destination
Watched from behind a pane
Gaias tears roll off the stems
Organic diamonds
Dewey and innocent
I can feel my absence from her dreams
The child amongst the chaos 
Lulling the fears to sleep
My ultimate weakness
Longing clutch you to my chest
And so I sink into my ocean of sorrow
Revel in self loathing and hate
Left behind in the flurry
Absently sealing my fate
Tell me when is it my turn
Rain fills the air with a bitter sweet ecstasy
It is my security as sadness sets in
Wishing I could forget you as you forgot me
You're already miles beneath my skin



Details | Free verse | |

Moonlit Snow

Full moon rises
with luminous essence
falling on fresh snow
reflecting a myriad of twinkles.

Torch light radiance
blankets meadow and field,
exuding the shadowy lustre
of an imposter twilight.

Refracting moonbeams 
encompass forests,
dancing with flickering light
thru' Evergreen trees.

Moonlight emulates day,
illuminating the midnight hour...

Translucent colors
diffuse the dawn,        
shimmering on fresh snow 
with sparkles of morning light.


Details | Sonnet | |

A Will

The birds fly free up in the sky.
Why oh why can it not be me?
Why can’t I just soar and be.
Why can’t I fly above so high?
 
My spirit guides me as I sigh.
My soul wills me to be free.
Where is this highest decree?
This is why I hear doves cry.
 
I open a seal,
Carry a smile.
All is so real.
I last a mile.
 
Inside of me there is a will.
This is why I can’t sit still.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Blank verse | |

Precious moments of Calm (March2008)


All around I hear the sound of bird song.
As I sit and rest awhile;
In my special place within my garden still.
Sun glistening through the archway.
Dancing upon the lawn.
Insects flittering from
 leaf to leaf.
The sound of bees  humming around the Hebe,
Going about their daily chores.
The warm sunshine lays upon my face.
As I hear a cuckoo;  and somewhere 
people laughing.
Music softly playing from
 a neighbours open window…
I sit here in the gazebo and take it all within,
And sigh with blissful abandonment 
 of absolute  happiness; 
In this very precious moment of calm...


                                                                                                                Denise Doe


Details | I do not know? | |

Mora Piya Ghar Aaya - My Beloved Has Returned Home

Mora Piya Ghar Aaya (My Beloved Has Returned Home)

Autumn:


the leaves fell, as you left, a bleak chill wafting across the barren space within my being,
you left, taking your smile and mine,
my smile rests with you still, leaving a void impossible to fill.


Winter:

pangs of longing consumed me, my only company in the frigid nights,
my tears remain frozen, within,
unable to fall from my broken eyes, as I searched the depths of the cold, harsh skies.


Spring:

birds returned home, though you did not, and I felt soothing rebirth all around,
memories of you began blazing, their embers stoked,
and at last the tears rolled, like ink on this blank notebook, my whole being pined for you, my very self in anguish silently shook.


Summer:

alive I felt again, the promise of the coming cooling rain, easing the heat of desire,
yet the furnace slowly raged inside, your absence tearing into me, shattering my nights, my longing for you soaring unfettered across the skies,
dancing on clouds, blissfully free,


Monsoons:

heaven itself opened, the deluge an unending dream,
rain falling all around, mingling with my flowing tears,
and then I saw you, you returned, and I embraced you, never wishing to let you go,
and though I may wear the mask of the clown,
if you were to leave again,
my very soul, would quietly slip away, and in the monsoon rains, I would gratefully drown.


Details | Free verse | |

Homely Shores

The waves carry it on
And as it swims with the current,
It drifts to unknown seas
Where danger surfaces with the surf.
But when it swims against the current,
It’s thrashed and smashed
And broken.
But it finds the way home.
It’s you.
Though castles on homely shores
Have been washed away.
 
Yet castles can be built again
And wooden logs can decay
Trees can shed their leaves and burn
While stones change shapes.
Home will be calm still
And soak you with peace that the waves washed away.  
Home will calm you
I promise.


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Special Nature

There is music in the wind
it blows so softly and sweet;
humming at the top of the hills
and all the trees swing to it

There is beauty in the water
when it flows from the mountains to the valley
splashing on its path from boulder to boulder,
reflecting the sun like a flawless ruby

There is beauty in the morning;
the fog hangs in the air like incense burning 
drops of dew hang from the leaves 
and sparkle like diamonds set in eaves

There is music in the evening
the sounds of roosting birds fill the evening
and in the sky, just over the horizon, 
a yolk-colored sun hastes to its place of dwelling


Details | Free verse | |

Memories Of Virginia Beach

Unpacking the sweater I was wearing
on the beach, under that veiled sky
bathing me in the late summer’s heat, 

I can hear the surf, the daring waves
surging up like greenish snakes and
approaching sideways, hear the white 

noise hissing at the tops, I can see 
them washed ashore rolling toward me,  
watering the hot sands of my memory.


Details | Free verse | |

the hills

Cresent moon consorts 
Met on a hillside, dew-soaked and overgrown
Seducing the sun from sleep.

Before infomercials succumbed to scheduled shows
You were my cartoons and cereal.
Sugary, sitting so close to your screen.

Our skin blowing steam,
Fattening the fog until it fell from the sky.
Delicious and dark the dawn
Anticipating light

The day stretched and yawned,
Bluebirds cleared their throats,
Street-cats rubbing  eyes,
I held you as you cried.

While responsible citizens were stuck in traffic
You were a full tank of gas and an open road
Dreamy, with your pedal pushed to your floor.


Barren and yellow became our hills
The sun never stops shining.
Not a shadow exists to take solace in
sipping each heaven-sent breeze.

Directionless pursuits
no stars to find my way by
Lost like the moon in the blinding blue heavens

Sunburnt flesh
died on a hillside, windswept and thirsty.
Begging the sun to sleep.


Details | Free verse | |

Home

 It is elevating to retrace my footsteps
 In the direction of the mountains,
 To gaze at the new fallen snow,
 To witness the glistening of icicles
 And how they form in the sun -
 In my spirit I have returned home,
 I fathom my journey at this moment,
 And it ensued into a long-lasting one.
 I appear as before in outward view,
 A few more lines, a few more pounds,
 A softened heart, I wear no mask,
 And childlike notions—I allocated—
 I outgrew.
 In my own right on a midsummer night,
 In my sentiment—mountains reminiscent of,
 My muse arising depositing poetry at task.
 By way of a pen—my contemplation
 Obtaining shape,
 My face against the wind,
 My essence engaged in words realigned,
 Together with a stillness of reason
 And spirit unconfined,
 Mysterious language assembling,
 Selected in the same way
 As a trusted friend,
 In my spirit I have returned home.


Details | Free verse | |

Omens

Omens
- - - - -
The sweet aroma of rice; yonder bare fields;
on the stone the dark patches of water pitchers
and her looking at the sky where buzzards fly,
are completing the composition of waiting.

She has been waiting too long; too long she has made her man 
hold his patience  all these while; believed peace will come.
Now these flying buzzards are looking ominous 
like secret language which mystic nomads speak. 

She trembles with the prospect of unknown evils.
A long wait for her son, returning from town, 
from the all consuming town where he has gone
long, long, long time ago. But she has hoped for return.

She again watched for God’s language. Let him come.

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar 


Details | Lyric | |

Let Your Rains Fall Down

let your rains 
fall down
let your rains fall
let your tears run to the ocean
hold none of them tight within
let the earth send them far away
send them far away
far, far away
far away from here


© Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
(November 10, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)


Details | Rhyme | |

There Lies A Stone In A Field

There lies a stone in a field,
A stately old oak its shield.
I use to go there unknown
To sit and ponder and hone.
As I grew, so did the stone,
Though not in stature or build,
For these a stone cannot yield.
No---twas wise in years it grew,
In blotchy, lichenose hue.


Details | Sonnet | |

Granted and Given

It is all in the Stars if you look hard enough.
There is always the morning Star twinkling.
And then there is the evening Star blinking.
And then there are layered clouds in a fluff.
 
Then there is the Sun and Moon and stuff.
Sometimes it looks like the Moons winking.
Sometimes it looks like the Sun is thinking.
Makes me wonder if their day can be rough!
 
What a wondrous world I live in.
What balance I live by every day.
My life must be granted and given.
So no wonder I take time to pray.
 
It is granted and given each day just to be me.
Just look up once a day and this you can see.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Free verse | |

untitled

The sunlight 
shines through 
the clouds
as rain falls 
into the gray eyes
of a mother doing 
laundry
while her children
play house.


Details | Haiku | |

Red Blossoms

even red blossoms can bloom from a barren tree nothing is impossible


Details | Free verse | |

Spring Song

The ides of March have gone and come.
Still, strains of vernal music sound
dumb echoes, in my ears, of early times,
of other years: an orchestral swell
of oboe, flute, and violin.
A feel of warming wind,
the scents of orange blossom,
daisy, buttercup, and clover:
are those days over?

My recent times are flavored
with metallic clank, with oily odor --
eyes fatigued by newsprint
and small-screen glare.
And music: the blare
of claxon-horn and siren-wail;
noise which issues from a box
borne on shoulders through the street;
an empty, but compelling, quite insistent
loudly pulsing beat.

I welcome all new, though slight, intrusions.
Pale sensory perceptions bring back images,
now faint, once acute, of places, times,
and pleasures past.
Faded sights and faces
and shadowy, unquantifiable pursuits
evoke a time when love, like freedom,
didn't cost a dime.


Details | Free verse | |

Daisy Days Bloom

Flaxen- haired maidens
frolic fresh meadows,
laughing and skipping
under a sparkling sun.

Their nimble fingers 
weave daisy chains,
delicately braiding 
wind tangled tresses.

Plucking on petals
a promise of love,
they clasp lily hands
chanting, circling.

With lips of pink roses
eyes of powder blue
skin of sweet jasmine
youth yearns to bloom.

MMC © 2011


Details | Senryu | |

DORMANCY

Inactive as bears,
sleeping in a remote cave...
dreaming of grassland.



The theme of the poem is winter.


Details | Tanka | |

rain - tanka

shreds of crying clouds
trickle along budding trees,
like shadows of dreams...
words melt away in silence,
as seconds flow with the rain...


Details | Carpe Diem | |

A Cart And Horse

When I take the reins of a cart and horse,
  The world in an instant slows for a day.
I take pleasure in nature's playful source,
  And learn how not to think so far away.
I don't set my sights on the course charted.
  The horse plays along, (it's an inborn trait.)
I think sometimes he has me outsmarted;
  He takes the path that's little used of late.


Details | Haiku | |

Evening

a gentle evening
the light is fading rapidly
trees are sentinels


Details | Verse | |

Sound Off

I have no desire to hear        the worlds words

rather would I            the chirping of birds

to hear the clapping           of leaves in the breeze

whirring of hummingbirds     wings of the bees




Or the babbling           sounds of the brook

the rumbling of earth          when its being shook

the patter upon my roof                of the rain

the sounds of the city         care I to abstain




I love the plunging             of waves upon rocks

detest the noise          of the ticking of clocks

road blare of wheels          upon tar and cement

or clamor of crowds         who attend an event




The racket of what           some people call song

which clashing smashing              banging belong

but the voices of wolves      howling by moon

or soulful longing                  in notes of the loon




the rustle and whisper            of wind in the wheat

tender the note              of a newborn lambs bleat

expressions of nature        when its in play

I want to hear                 what the animals say




The laughter of children          learning a game

squawks of chickens   and sheep that are tame

the wail of wind           through a window crack

splitting of thunder         lighting nights black




The chill on the spine          from a low growl

so quiet you can hear                the drop of a towel

music that lifts           the breath of ones soul

the crackle of ice                which freezes a pole




the echoes in canyons          when you give a call

snapping of trees        when in a storm fall

the rustle and flush          the dog and the pheasant 

their decent upon          my ears                 very pleasant




I want to hear    the sounds of Gods garden

when the trial is over                I've got a full pardon

the voices of those             whose hearts that I love

when I hear these                its you I think of




These are the things        that to my heart speak

sounds of the ones newborn     pats of baby feet

take me away             from Babylon's din

the screeching and static                created by men







COPYRIGHT © 2011 C Michael Miller

via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Bio | |

The Village banyan Tree

Stotutly among the rest of the trees, standing high-
Its height touches the sky in which the kites fly,
Guarding the village like a gallant knight,
Its bark shows the black wounds of many fights.

Its creepers like a dozen of pythons,
Could be seen from far away lawns-
All trying to hold it captive-
But for them its size is too massive.

It has seen so many years;
It has viewed so many deaths of nears and dears;
The signs of sorrow reflect on its face crystal clear;
How so much sorrow doth it bear?
And how doth it resist its sorrowful tears?

Somuch old and yet so young-
Its nostalgic night-song
Is a bridge to my childhood days that have passed long. 





Details | I do not know? | |

Port of Call

Port of Call


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,
soothing pained memories away,
to the swaying of a solitary palm.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,
on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find,
yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,
as the tide cleanses all pain,
and leaves despair far, far behind.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,
that hushes the ache of bygone moons,
tasting the salty tang on my lips,
as the burnished sun,
over the distant horizon,
swoons,

and dips.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

searching, ever searching,
for a slice of solitude,
as memory bids a final adieu,
reaching under the sea so vast,
and seeking comfort in the depths,
while embracing,
the tomorrows to come,
wishing that they be true.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

seeing my truths drown,
as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,

feeling my heart ablaze,
with a passion that rarely falters.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

yet knowing that I am home at long last,
wishing the waves would wash away,
the defences that once stood,
like an impregnable wall.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

I have found, at long last,

my final port of call.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Finding Innocence in the Laughter That Escapes Pillowcases.

Behind the sun, with a little bit of assuredness, I saw the shades of his smile
swing toward the moon...
and I cursed six p.m. In a voice that hid the memories of
nineteen~ninety~two
when I wore my shoes underneath the shadows of stars and in the feel of his lips
when sixteen is innocent despite the cold exposure
of skin.


I wonder if he knows I whisper to him in his sleep, my promises slipping underneath the
blanket he holds tight around him,
and feathers escape pillowcases when I laugh,
they tickle toes and dissolve the taste of fear
as my tongue finds the outline of his lips after the sun falls down and his
smile
is apparent.


I tidy myself up on Mondays, and wreck the idea of perfection with my curls...
I wear jeans that smudge mountains across back pockets and imagine how the hem of my
burgandy dress would fall across chilled creek splashed rocks,
I wonder if I'd be able to stay pretty when my hands fall into mud and the wind attacks my
cheeks...
but he smiles, you see, when the sun falls...
he smiles when I change my clothes...
and he kisses me when my curls detest reality and Monday smirks at the idea of cleanliness
as my imagination drowns hems and rips fabric.


So I kick off my shoes with the idea that my toes can taste Tuesday and my feet can squash
the memories of
nineteen~ninety~two
and revel in innocence as I discover
the cold exposure
of skin.


Details | Verse | |

Gungo Blossom

Bright gold folded in dark crimson
A flag of flower furled on a tree
Harbinger of delight and the season
Legume stirring apppetite in me
I yearn but cannot taste again, these
Years like rivers have carried all
The fond treasures of youth into ease
Fallen like frail eggs from a wall
Gungo, no more from mother's pot
No more from sister's hand piped hot
No more this Christmas find's the slot
That separates kind child and idiot. 
Burnished gold and crimson veined
Stirs the heart where memory stained.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Scent of Lilac

The simple scent of lilac
sends my mind to a far off land. 
A place where you and I can go 
just walking hand in hand.

Each spring I see the buds peek out
and I know it's coming soon.
This is the time of year we love
just staring at the moon.

I love to sit out on the porch
and listen to you sigh.
This is where I yearn to be...
that ol' lilac bush nearby.

That scent just sends a shiver
right up my whole spine.
It's this that makes me realize....
I can't believe you're mine. 


Details | Free verse | |

Enigmatic Lane

Enigmatic Lane

This enigmatic lane-
I’ve walked long.
And now I see
Only barren lands,
A mere setting sun,
And a vague horizon.

I turn to look back
Along this enigmatic lane.
And then I see
Those umpteen vicissitudes,
Those sudden meanders,
Those familiar turns,
Those abrupt detours.

Down this enigmatic lane,
There have been
Many a rich meadows,
Many a bleak wastelands,
Millions of pompous marches,
Millions of disconcerting dirges,
Several comforts of love,
Several cruelties of reclusion.

Along this enigmatic lane
I may no longer tread, for-
As I now halt, I ponder-
Perpetuation has always been
The ruse of fleeting phases,
And what worth has it been
To walk this enigmatic lane.


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku hodge podge trio, Trees and leaves

Gum trees line the road
To long outback red paddock
To my father's house

Olive green Gum leaves
On wind-swept red-sandstone hills
Flick like Brumby tails

Eucalypt tree leaves 
Are food for our koala's
Round our Billabong





© Brenda V Northeast 23/Jan,/2012    for Linda- Marie’s haiku contest


Details | Free verse | |

delectable pleasure

on a quiet 
Sunday 
afternoon
rain 
playfully 
danced
amidst the 
flourishing 
trees of 
Georgia.

memories 
tempt 
tastebuds
with a 
sweet juicy 
nectar
ripe with 
luscious 
desire.

sensually 
fragrant
arousing 
all senses
slowly, 
delicately, 
sensually.

peaches 
simply are..

the Fruit 
of the 
Gods..

one of 
life's 
delectable 
pleasures,
for the God 
& Goddess 
in all.


Details | Personification | |

Oh January

My January, I lost you last year

Your leaves left a whisper as they floated by

And I, I was left with a cold tear

Yet to you- It was merely a glistening eye



I remember so fondly the good times

In the beginning of a year once so clean

And when you ran away, I could not rhyme

For my garden was left without green



Dear January, now that you are returning

Stay longer, my friend, and be kind

Put your arm around me as the world is turning

And, once more, give me some peace of mind


PERSONIFICATION OF JANUARY
J. Dover


Details | Ode | |

as quiet as he ever was

tightrope typography; 
the arbitrary doyens of 
fallacious complexion… 
perpetually soaked 
in gin perked rum… 
inelegantly smeared 
across glass bled eyes… 
purely out of interest… 

the bluish flaccid
moonlit regatta;
whistled and sold…
whistled and cleansed…
privy to atonal acronyms 
and consummated progress…
as quiet as he ever was…
purely out of interest… 
 


Details | Blank verse | |

snip snip

 UNSUPPORTED CODE Take the threads of my being.
weave them
wind them around and
entwine love in those knots
then snip snip
seize them apart
before the poison seeps in 
before the time takes away
what is sweet and what is mine UNSUPPORTED CODE 


Details | Free verse | |

Faith Healer

The odor is intolerable
Like a foul beast clinging to the end 
I can barely subdue its subterfuge 
But here I am, 
I’m standing here of sound and mind
Waiting for the time that answers my own questions

Can it race with the fires of Orc?
Doubtful, but it can jog steadily can’t it?
The weather is awful, filled with sounds
Penetrating a document not written
It pains me to fight through the night
Not because it’s dark, but because I am just a shadow.

Lester drives but
Motional lasts forever
Still driving
Still crying
And slowly dying as time waves on
Like oceans that can’t be seen.

Nobody cares and everyone listens
Ironic, like a bible that holds lies and deception
Can its will be pierced?
Can freedom stay free?
Is it worth it to stay hooked when everyone around
Seeks liberty?


Details | Free verse | |

Winter Poem

The winter leaves stick to the ground,
Frozen in obscurity, beneath the ice.
As birds begin to sing their songs
I take a sip of coffee.

Covering the solid earth, ice,
As new as the lasting snowstorm
Of every winter, appears fresh
As grass blades and thorns in summer.


Details | Free verse | |

Sweet Southern Security

Sweet Southern Security
 
Sprawling shady oak trees, tall slender 

pine trees with jutting needles, and broad whispering 

magnolia trees towering above as the bright moonlight 

filters through their waving restless limbs and leaves,

mirroring the silvery liquid mercury motions

 of the warm Atlantic Ocean.

 

The sweet intoxication of the

aromatic floral vapors of gardenia 

and magnolia fusing with the spicy 

scent of pine sap from a fallen limb,

calms my soul and brings me peace,

 as a brisk wind ruffles through my hair.

 

Slowly rocking in an old knotty pine rocker, 

back and forth, sipping a smooth glass of bourbon

in an introspective state of mind, gazing at the 

dancing motions of the liquid waves as a rush of 

warmth from the bourbon courses through my veins.

 

 Protective Liberty, the black Great Dane,

barks at the cars buzzing by her street,

warning them to get the hell away, 

far from her gate, her house, her family. 

 

 
Chitter-chatter of the crickets, 

and the throaty croaking pleas of the restless frogs 

in the neighboring forest pond, brings ambiance to this 

southern spring evening.

 

The tranquility of this hypnotic setting

and the feeling of security from this old

clapboard cottage that wraps around 

me like a tattered family quilt, 

takes me back to the security of the home that I 

left only a few years ago.

 

Taking this moment alone to acknowledge 

all that I lost the day I left my home, reflecting on 

how much grieving that day’s caused me since having

to walk away from a life I truly loved

and enjoyed.  Being here tonight brings me hope

that one day I’ll find my sense of security again.

 

 


Details | Narrative | |

WHEN SPRING DIDN'T HIDE ITS FLOWERS!

Nothing is more delightful
and simply remembered by a sweet word...
than a walk through a green forest,
to find a remote spot on a low hill
and put those daily worries to rest;
the anxious eyes long for that vision
of a last, unforgotten season: 
the gentlest rain which brings
a familiar fragrance from other lands...
when spring hides its flowers!

Whenever the lonely poet dreams,
his unerring hand is quicker that  the flowing streams:
the distant vison of his flourishing thoughts
is carried to unseen places; 
and all he wishes is to feel  a sublime peace...
when spring hides its flowers!

The wishful child ,led by his mom ,searches 
 the leaf-covered paths with a sorrowful glance,
even the robins and blue-birds can't confort him,
 or give him some kind of hope for his unleashed whim;
and will he relish the joyful promise of each year,
as a gentle hand caresses his blonde hair...
when springs hides its flowers from his zealous eyes,
and one of those adolescent dreams unexpectedly dies?

I, once, was like him:  curious,cheerful and so restless:
seeking surprises in unexpected places...
finding myself in front of simple wonders
that couldn't  be perceived by the adult mind,
as if they were another mystery, not the creation of God...
when spring didn't hide its flowers!


Details | Tanka | |

My Bird Linda

When I was a teen
I caught a chick of a bird
And named it Linda
One day my elder sister
Killed it accidentally!


Details | Rhyme | |

This Winter Night

The sun has set, but the world is aglow
The light of the moon reflected by snow.
A blanket of ice, it covers the ground:
A glaze for the earth that muffles all sound.

The trees are bare like skeletons dry,
Bleached white like bones that reach for the sky.
They wait for the spring and hibernate deep;
Tucked in by snow, they dream and they sleep.

A house in the forest is covered in white,
Warmed by a fire and bathed in its light.
The people indoors look out at the sight,
Enjoying the splendor of this winter night.


Details | Free verse | |

Web wise

Web wise

The fear drops from its light brown wings; 
this is not home; at least not for a bird. 
Little sparrow flaps its wings in madness; 
flaps them so hard. Living room, staircase,
it is humming past your mute chair.
But how can you help, you cannot locate 
your own way out of this golden web. 

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar 


Details | Blank verse | |

POETRIAT OF EASTERN CAPE MINIATURE


If the sun shines
Vicious that the hands could hold its heat
If the wind whirls and wails
Turbulent, with fierceness of rushing water
If it becomes icy cold
That it could freeze the mind
If the sky, sullen and sly
Suddenly wear, without a tear
And the heaven unlatches its showers
Unceasing regardless of the reigning season
If cold and heat engaged
In a no conquest duel
If there are mown meadow mountains
More than human habitat
With hills spreading and sprawling
Sparingly shares expanse of space
If the valleys are fast and vast
Height-locked by conniving hills and mounts
And the plains, plain and plane
Laid bare of thickets and thorns
If you keep ascending and descending
In rhythmical crescendo and decrescendo
If the landscape is strewn
With mingling lily white egrets and sheepish African cows
If summer, winter, spring and autumn
Rolls, in seconds, minutes and hours
If all faces reflect Mandela
And most voices resonate his accent

Then, it is Alice, another wonderland!
The little Xhosa town; the University town of Fort Hare!!
Eastern Cape of the South of Africa


Details | Senryu | |

Temptuous (6 little words/haiku)

Masculine scents,
his torso sighs - 

 

lust...


Details | Free verse | |

Water Rune

Water rune feed off the breast of the moon like a baby, new until by adolescence another ruined Aqua Deity Poseidon cast forth thy trident bellowing waves of violence sink towering ships, in silence How to tame a beast of rage first you must just turn the page a cold shoulder best these days soon to enter the new ice age Water rune welcoming bad news vicarious Aquarius the Water bearer enters hysteria takes his crown the common era is all but dead now Religion and science meet with a big bang God falls to his kneeundaunting wounded, but not yet deceased he makes a deal with the Devil for their synthesis why close your eyes if you don't wish to hear it? Forgot of Pisces like a vague evading memory of the childhood your hurricane came to clean life away, in ruin I stay, nothing wise left to say I'll just ride your wave to my grave, of icy water. Hallowing along to aloneness caught up in a priceless moment sea levels run rampant the rising tide rising high towards the sky rolling back down sound like thunder strike into oblivion, and drag me under lifeless, unconscious, abundantly undaunting holding onto that which might not be whole again ever, like Pangea for even the mightiest army surrenders without their leader


Details | Rhyme | |

The Wandering Soul

Over hills I walk,
All tongues I talk.
Rivers I crossed,
Pennies I tossed.
and Life goes on.

With women I slept,
Streams of tears I wept.
Silken robes I wore,
Innocent hearts I tore.
and Life goes on.

Every corner I went,
Till my back was bent.
With every sun I watched,
A stick my hand clutched.
and Life goes on


Details | I do not know? | |

Three Shawls For My Babies


Once
My adoring eyes worked alongside my nimble fingers
To gently swaddle your tiny frame in a
Soft White shawl


Now
The same two eyes and hands check you wear you're seat belt
Before you drive off

And wave


Details | Free verse | |

Refrain

The cycle they speak of
simmering regeneration
folded back upon itself
spinning graceful
behaving oddly like
repetitious Nature blindfolded
Yet transported to the present
in the past
treading mercy
Through the wheel like another
carriage return
mindful of Circadian limits
peering in a moment of
extrinsic reclassification
but all the while
sitting on the edge
of Home


Details | Triolet | |

A song to the Night

(Triolet)
~Tribute to “Hymn to the Night” By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~ 


He heard sounds of sorrow and delight.
Swept from marble vestments of halls. 
Felt her presence compelled the light. 
He heard sounds of sorrow and delight. 
Spelt  at her feet old'n rhymes so bright. 
And layer'd stars pieced her celestial walls.
He heard sounds of sorrow and delight. 
Swept from marble vestments of halls. 


Details | Free verse | |

Dances of the Wind

A sprinkling of symphony lingers my ears
As though seducing me to move on its rhythm.

It had a distinct taste; which intoxicated my mind
It had a distinct scent; which intoxicated my spirit.

A aroma of ecstasy spread in my body
For I was amidst the mysterious nature.

I had joined it in the ‘Dances of the Wind’

My lips had only one chant to repeat
My body had only one position to hold.

For I had joined the exotic nature in reverences.

The Time has beheld its count and Wind the flow.
The Sun has beheld its light and Moon the Glitter
The Life has beheld its genesis and Death the havoc.

All the elements seems to pause for the moment.
All the work seems to pause for repose.
For it was the Time, all join together to summon the Almighty.

....................................................

Written way back in 1998, just as i was being introduced to new perception of life, 
linking the spiritual self with the physical self.

This was also the time when i was hooked to Newage Music by Vangelis, yanni, and 
few other contemporaries, some times inspiring me to compose poetry on their 
compositions.

Some what modern sufistic touch and feel to whole poem.
.....................................................
.musafirs


Details | Free verse | |

The Storm

The thunder rumbles
breaking the silence,
as the lightning flashes
splitting the darkness.

I stand all alone
in the open meadow,
feeling ever so calm
in the midst of the storm.

As the tempest rages
every way that I turn,
the cool summer rain
cleanses me to the core.

Hours pass me by
yet feels like eternity,
then just as soon
as it began, its all over.

The rain stops falling
and the sky starts to clear,
and reveals to my eyes
the light of the dawn.

As the sun struggles
to rise o'er the mountains,
the distant peals of thunder
are all that remain.

Theres a coolness in the air
and everything is like new,
now that the storm has past
a new day can finally begin.


Details | Narrative | |

THE DOLLS

When I was young, I had these dolls, in various guise and shapes,
The first was been the simplest; in it no single garment
or any ornament embedded, but only made of clay and heights four inches,
“Imperfect doll!” I exclaimed and clothed the doll in scarlet dress.
The second doll was only made of scarves of woolen rags in many color set and 
tone, 
“Imperfect doll!” I exclaimed again, and dangled some trinkets on its neck.
My third doll was more ornate and made of wood, which was slightly rough,
But its face and clothes were not alike from me; but of Japanese in a kimono
with a sash of obi around its tiny waist and wooden sandals on its feet,
“Imperfect doll!” I said, and furnished it with gesso.
Then my fourth doll was made of ivory, and clothed in simple bulk skin,
“Imperfect doll!” I said, and adorned its clothes with lace.
And my last doll was made of bisque from Germany:
fair-haired and fair skinned, until I noticed, some hairpiece fell as I untangled,
“Imperfect doll!” I exclaimed, and put a bonnet on its head.

And then I grew and see much of the world; more than my dolls, more than 
myself;
Like a woman I met, who’s very fond of costly suits and polish gems
only to make cover of her unwanted aspects,
“Pity!” I said, “she hides her imperfection!”
Then this bachelor who’s tired and aged, but still aspires for lofty aims,
“Alas!” I said “he’s blinded much of his imperfection!”
And to this lady I knew, who’s young and fair but lost a man she dear,
and grieves to him excessively, with no more time to stare and glad to other 
things,
“Alas!” I said” she mourns too much her imperfection!”
And for poor man I knew, complaining day and night to his misfortune,
“Alas!” I said, “he hasn’t done a thing to his imperfection!”
And to this dying man of severe illness, reproachful to his fate,
“Poor man”, I said, “he ought to know that death is not an imperfection.”
And lastly, when I meet someone who grief or find no peace and happiness,
“Alas!” I’ll say, “you ought to see that life is made of many imperfections!”



Details | Personification | |

Mother Star

I am aimed and directed for a shooting star.
In the midst of a collision I am traveling far.
 
Nothing can stop me for I am on a lifelong mission.
I’m timing the clocks and gaining some recognition.
 
I am in and out of reality stumbling onto a delusion.
Sometimes I want to run free and go into seclusion.
 
The wind tries to hinder me so I shew it to go away.
I stand on the Moon and make the Sun arise a new day.
 
I am looking down at a world that is misunderstood.
If I could have I would have and then again I should.
 
But that is neither here nor there so I will fair.
I have accumulated a bit and have much to share.
 
However, there is a cornerstone one can get stuck.
One must find the mother Star and hope for lady luck.
 
Once you find it you will be well on your way,
You’ll rise with the Sun and be brighter each day.
 
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Couplet | |

Sudbury Noodles

If people were noodles and lakes were their soup,

Sudbury's basin would be a great scoop.

300 lakes or just a bit more.

Some have been counting and some are just bored.

Sudbury's water is healthy and clean

leaving our noodles shining with gleam.

Fresh water soup minus the salt,

fresh as going into; fresh by default.

Trees for our parsley cover our shores

keeping us fancy and breathing for more.

Soup we serve fresh out of each bowl

welcoming noodles the world whole.


Details | I do not know? | |

Sunflower Seeds

Sunflower seeds,
So salty they burn my slightly chapped lips.
Savoring every bite,
Cracking them with my front teeth.
I let their earthy flavor caress my tongue.
Each one tastes of a memory,
Familiar and comforting.
I am reminded of childhood,
And a smile plays across my face as I chew.


Details | Narrative | |

VENICE'S SPLENDOR

A city made from nothing,
on a lagoon with shallow waters
to keep the invaders away ;
still today those bell chimes ring out
to remind everyone of her victory
at Lapanto...when the ships
brought back the banners
of the defeated enemy!

Venice's splendor is seen everywhere...
 even in San Marco's Square,
 swarmed with pigeons and visitors, 
 where the Venetians' genius built 
 a splendid Basilica reminiscent of their wealth
and power...making Venice:  the Queen of the Sea!
 Down the Rialto Bridge and the Bridge of Sighs,
gondolas row...carrying visitors and lovers;
the artists seek  inspiration for their works,
while their stunned eyes are delighted by beauty, 
which pulls them out of virtual reality!  

Intrigue and mystic fascinated 
many a devoted soul,
and the entire city echoed
with delirious voices breaking
the silence of midnight;
violins and lutes played in palaces 
and in gondolas on the Grand Canal...
did anyone stare at the brilliant stars?

A masquerade was an invitation to love,
all disguised themselves behind a mask;
many were seduced by passions with haste...
as Venice revelled in their merry-making,
celebrating a glory that knew no ending;
and when it declined, it was deserted by all! 

Venice's splendor seems eternal,
not diminishing through ages;
her fame ever-increasing and each stone
can tell a different story of people
who partook of her greatness,
leaving a legacy we regard as our own...   


Details | I do not know? | |

A Moonless Summer Night In My Village

Lights of the thousands of stars
Don't seem enough for such a night;
You miss the moon badly 
Who can make the night bright.

Without proper transportation,
Without supply of electricity,
Life here is so different,
Deprived of city-like facility.

A moonless night of summer,
Is not a piece of cake.
If you're going for a hike ,
Don't panic if you encounter a snake.

Among the sounds of toads and cockroaches, 
When One sound appears different 
Do you need your Grand'ma to confirm you 
"This is the sound of a serpent."







Details | Free verse | |

Your Brush is it or My Pen

.

Your Brush is it or my pen 

Painting a picture in words

Searching your smile in faces

Hidden in the crowd of people

Like diamond in coal mine

Like the gem among rocks

Only to be found by hearts

That seeks the inner beauty 

That holds in your persona

Some grace, some charms

Enlighten worlds with smiles

That gives hearts some joy

That is rarely feel in others

Silently observing you in you

Silently adoring you in you

Its not that i like many yours

Just that i have few like you

Something to share that trust

Few words, few thoughts 

In magic of your artistic hands 

Or in my spell bonding poetry

Your Brush is it or my pen 

 


Details | Couplet | |

You'll Get A Rise Out Of This

The rise of Atlantis
For this I don't want you to miss

Coming of the new world
With Justice dressed as it's girl

An apple from God's slate
Filling the hunger for ones plate

Safe harbor to now call home
Empowered by minds that love to roam





Details | Free verse | |

Diamonds, Diamonds

Leave me in the Garden of Eden,
To witness life form and rivers begin 
to roll,
Naked but clothed in innocence,
Immortality has been placed within 
my grasp,
Animals, colossal beasts fall under 
my authority,
Every fruit and flower is offered to 
sustain me, save one,
Why do I want for what is 
forbidden, what will do me harm?
Every inch of this utopia is
entrusted to my care,
I will not fall into folly,
She is so radiant, shimmering 
diamonds are like as dust,
Born of my flesh and bone, the 
apple of my eye,
Her voice is my only weakness, the 
only chink in my armor,
As of now I know nothing of death 
but I would sacrifice myself for her,
The serpent struck while she 
wandered alone,
He enticed her to trade paradise for 
a bite,
Her mind freed, she introduces me 
to sin,
I must endure the face of beautiful 
temptation,
I feel the shift as the fruit touches 
my lips,
As as we hear God traversing the 
garden, we hide,
Clothed in fig leaves we face the 
Maker,
With trembling knees we accept the 
consequences,
With backs turned, cast out and 
disgraced,
The sword of the captain of angels 
bars the gate,
Sentenced to a life of hardship and 
anguish,
We will forever lament choosing 
death over life


Details | Haiku | |

JEREMIAD

A crimson dragon-
fly, Why! never seen one of
those before, here; - my

Beach, these febriled oh-
pressive days, re-bleaching to
a 14Mil-Shill 

only "Ernst & Friends" 
only know; so I meande 
this other, other 

tres Yoga place, Ma-
ma & young Swan - Proustian? - 
decide to shore, so

smooth, they, as if guide,
tethered below, two Windfanned- 
down SnowFeathers, as

from a chapeau, no! 
degage` "Dolly Varden"
offered-over for
     
simple frags of the
bread at hand, some too in a 
tossing-up for the                

diminutive red-
bill Moorehen in the pecking                                                                                               
water, as hungry

mosqa do their thing
euchre - chancing - flitting a
pluck voracity 

against their Lives, this
yet another sad tingle...
and in a new bluff 

I fauxstrut from the
Love we breathed...  this, another
SatHerday-Sunday.


Details | Rhyme | |

Down the garden path

When radiant blooms of springtime abound
in every humble garden grows
many a fancier flower to be found 
though noblest is still the rose

How gently do the ivy vines cling
like sunshine on mossy walls
how lovely does the little bird sing
his sweet, throaty enthralls


Where blazing morning glories climb
in shades of violet and blue
they grow like memories entwined 
with seasons spent here with you

In a springtime of soft lovers' strolls
we walked the garden path
across verdant and dewy knolls
echoed the river's laugh

As we grow old and lose our faith
there is a truth that will console
the footsteps of our fleeting youth
leave balmy imprints on our souls


Details | Haiku | |

Winter Snow

The calming effect
of immaculate colors
warms my frigid heart.


Details | Lyric | |

The Russian Forest


The clean, cold brooks are running,

The foliage around is rustling,

Since childhood,

I have been betrothed to you

My loved Russian Forest!

You have been covered

with flowers or snow

Or with yellow leaves, but

Among maples,

Among fir-trees,

There is my secret house.

And if I had light joy

Or grief – melancholy with tears,

I came to you, my loved forest,

And bent to legs of the birches.

The coverlet of these girlfriend-brides were woven

from the most gentle threads of the sun

We are connected to you with one thread,

My favourite Russian Forest!

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


Details | Couplet | |

Ode To The Whippoorwill

I remember in the evening's dusk,
The singing breeze in the drying husk;
Along woods edge, the whippoorwill's cry,
So alluring its call angels would sigh.
Yes, I remember the whippoorwill,
But do the angels remember still?
The call that echoed  the end of day
When man would put his labour away;
And meditate with the singing breeze 
And the whippoorwill amongst the trees.
I wonder if angels sigh of choice,
For never now do I hear its voice.


Details | Narrative | |

Pebbles

For hours
her whole world was 
hunting for rocks at the
banks of the shallow
narrow river that runs 
through the canyon behind
the house.

On her knees,
wrist deep in the
icy current, she
sifts through piles of 
polished stones, 
searching for the 
perfect little pebble.

She slips the pebble 
safely in that pointed place
in the pocket of her jeans.

Down the path, 
she's conscious of the
precious cargo, 
digging her hand down
now and then.

At home,
she reaches in
with her fingers, to
pluck the pebble
from her pocket
and she places it
on a shelf
with the others.

That evening,
stretched under the covers,
tucked and tight, and drifting,
she dreams of 
skipping stones.


Details | Blank verse | |

Stillness

Hypnotized by
water diamonds brilliantly 
shining on the lake
and by the melodic sound
of song birds, 
I am in a peaceful 
state.

In this moment 
I know no anxieties,
worries or pain.
From this realm
of utter chaos
oblivion breaks the chain.

I close my eyes and bask
in this mode of 
sanctuary stillness,
while the symphony of 
nature's true joys
take away my sorrows
and leave me with
spiritual wellness.

Camille Rose Castillo 2011


Details | Quatrain | |

THE DREARINESS OF THIS FRIGID SEASON

Goodbye Fall with all the auburn leaves of the reddest sunset,
goodbye crackling path where I met the last songbirds,
whose melody accompained me to winter's doors;
and with deep sadness I kept on looking back.


Welcome gloomy winter with short afternoons and long evenings;
watching the advancing shadows and loudly hearing
the furious sound of the squall rampaging the stately trees,
and making them weep when the icy rain comes down with lightining. 


Sitting in a rattling, rocking chair, I peruse through pages of sunny places afar,
forgetting the dreariness of this frigid season and be consoled by a warm fire;  
and still nostalgia abounds...thinking of the pleasant strolls of a past season,
which thrilled me with its colors, and through delight I justified my reason. 


O winter, don't linger as you always have...shorten your stay, avoid foul play; 
and could I ever stand a pale sun, hardly giving off with its luminiscence,
in this house hidden among the maples and the pines of a squalid valley?
Old winter, don't mislead me with days without snow...that's utter pretense!


Goodbye explorer fedora hat keeping my dreamer's head cool, 
sparing my skin another ugly wrinkle, allowing late beauty to rule;   
goodbye iced coffee sipped from my Big Apple plastic cup,
which I bought along Fifth Avenue in a crowded, variety shop. 


Ummerciful winter, pity the desperate state I am in,
reduce the wrath of your devastation, step inside and to tell me your amazing tales...
hoping that I will write them down for everyone to read and enjoy for immortal ages;
relentless winter, reduce the dreariness of this frigid season.


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Haiku | |

That day of rainy season

I still remember
That day of rainy season 
When I missed you most.


Details | Free verse | |

Fete

Into the lane –
come wind, impetuous rain.
Trees are now a threat,
gesturing wildly, angry,
promising to snap,
eager to pounce,
to crush in an embrace
of leaf and crusty bark.

The village fête, though,
is like the show:
it must go on,
it must go on.
It’s fixed in time,
it’s preordained.

Brave souls
staff the stalls and serve,
to raise the funds
to fix the roof.

Spattered souls – pulling
their cardigans closed, tugging
their knitted hats further down their heads –
bravely measure out the day
in collected coinage
dropped into biscuit tins:
the target must be reached.

Cricket’s off – rain stopped play;
back to the crease another day.
But the ladies of the Guild
fête the thinning punters
with bric-a-brac and homemades,
with orange juice and lemonade.

It’s a parallel world –
the other one’s not here today.
This is all there is.
For this day only,
this is our fête.


Details | Sonnet | |

Dilated Night

when the eternal night blessed our kiss 
within deep trenches of beauty we held
you left the sorrowful night with a hiss,
shall forever be a treasure withheld
a sheer memory of human nature
wondrous night that is forever praised
but thoughts like these tend to become glaciers
as that day becomes a living record
of that night your lips touched upon mine
but with memories,  some float till the end
under the swinging lamp of frozen time
with me, you remain forever adored
with your ruby fire lips and gold hair
in the twilight night we once shared


Details | Quatrain | |

Summers long ago

Nestled in coconut groves and lush fields of paddy,
with the love of a large family, each day warm and tardy,
Ever poised and elegant, stood my trove of memories,
as boys and girls innocent, played under mango trees.

Soon as grandma came in sight, her hair grey with age,
we rushed to hold her tight, dropping our baggage.
It felt as soft as feather, touching her frail hands,
her eyes filling with tears, to see us back on her lands. 

Dewy mornings crawled by, as we grew lazy by the day, 
sultry afternoons passed by, watching cows feed on hay.
Breaking the serenity of dusk, came a fishmonger yelling,
catch of the day cooked with much spice, there was no telling.

Swollen with the monsoon, the dark night sky,
eager to pour it down soon, still as the earth did lie.
And soon, when will I see you next, grandma would sigh,
Feeling sad, as the moment came, for another good-bye. 


Details | Free verse | |

my favourite path

i see it before me 
i have not stepped towards, nor walked along its direction 
it is clearly there for me to do so 
the decision 
can stray left or right of the way I go 
and all I know 
is that it starts 
before me


Details | I do not know? | |

i returned to the sea

I can smell the wind in my face 
Salt air in my mouth-my skin
I become the other world I am in;
Walking against the breeze as it 
grows
But  nobody knows or gives two 
crows..
That's OK self conceit is in faded 
retreat.
Birds dive, their calls reaching my 
ears
An orange sphere eclipses all that is 
near
Blindingly bright~ on the edge of 
night
I walk west~sun setting as if in jest
I  smell lush salty wind invade my 
chest
I chase the reality to bask in 
finality...
I look at this beautiful place
A saving grace~what a beautiful 
face~
How I  distaste what's left of the 
race,
Leaving in its trace a waste..an 
infertile 
place. 
I feel salty air tickle  my  nose~
Feel the sand slip through my toes~
Walking against the ocean breeze
One last pose before god only 
knows;
I go to my knees, look out at the 
seas
Birds dives and weave, sit upon the 
trees.
I sit awhile and contemplate as I 
smile
At oceans edge I take in all that I 
hear
The orange sphere eclipsing all that 
is 
near
 I walk due west, sun setting as if in 
jest
Feet and mind  never stopping to 
think or 
rest
Quiet determination defeating loud 
lethargy
I slip into liquid effigy

Oops too late, I am not here to see
Dark vertigo becomes the wet indigo of me
The 
deep blue
sea.


Details | Quintain (English) | |

LONELIER THAN A LONELY HEART

For four cold and long months
I was lonelier than a lonely heart,
staring at the beautiful snowflakes...
and afraid to fall asleep, I dreamt in the dark:
reminiscing the intense heat of midnight! 


Lonelier than a lonely heart:
shunning sleep, retracing lovely memories of old,
of forget-me-not on that scented path;
and those delicate daises thrown at her feet haven't faded,
but have kept my passion alive as any true lover would.     


Once these hearts were close, no need to yearn
for each other...through each night our passion arose; 
has anyone ever asked how long it did burn? 
Sadly, loneliness revokes a nostalgic desire
to whisper passionate words that aren't there.


Lonelier than a lonelier heart:
it's the most awful feeling I can endure;  
images of two lovers kissing into the shadows of night, 
touching their warm bodies to feel pleasure...
oh, imaginary dream don't end until sunrays emerge!   


Details | Haiku | |

Days and nights and the universe

Days and nights and the universe 
I
The musty monsoon 
insects with swelled bellies
soggy paper boats.
II
Curiosity 
a black feathered bird peeps in,
there is no return.
III
Close the eyes, its night.
A bat has taken a bite; 
the fruit rolls away. 
IV
The desolate rails.
Millions of butterflies, 
they reign the wild shrubs.
V
Crystallized water, 
this rock has witnessed years,
a fly has more eyes.

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar 


Details | Rhyme | |

Blanket of Stardust

The moon has kissed the Earth goodnight;
The sun has gone to bed.
The night sky is a blanket that
The Earth pulled overhead.

It shines despite the darkness
It glitters and it glows
As if a million fireflies
Were looking down below.

They fly without ever tiring
And hover in close formations,
Drawing pictures up in the sky
That we call constellations.

Indeed, they bring us comfort;
We give Nature our trust.
We need not fear the night for we've
A blanket of stardust.


Details | Rhyme | |

When The Fall Fell Down..

do you remember 

when we were so young 
when the fall fell down 
and the spring had sprung 
when the winter came 
and made us so cold 
when the summer flame 
found us playing and saying 
I hope we never grow old..


Details | I do not know? | |

Ellip

Summer days... Sizzling air... Sprinklers...

(Ellip is a form of poetry: (9) syllables divided into (3) words or phrases; unlimited stanzas.)


Details | Sonnet | |

The Battle Within

Love and trust the battle within,
One of armor and one of cloth,
Both equal in strength and at a great loss.
Cornered by time to live again,
A moment to go back to where you have been!
The principles of pleasure intrude on a pleasant dream.
Love and trust the battle within shouts its damning scream!
One of armor, one of cloth and both are determined to rise again.

Conflict and pressure begin to adhere to this occasion.
One second to catch your thoughts of stop, go, or yield?
Beset by these restless conflicts your need to release introduces itself.
Provoked to endure a graceful truce the weak one falls to submission.
Love and trust the battle within proclaims the very same guild.
One of armor, one of cloth, and both equal with great strength in this world that we build


Details | I do not know? | |

Senseless

When I was one
I stared at the sun
And although I lost my seeing
It felt like fun

When I was three
I drank chlorine
And although I lost my tasting
It felt serene

When I was five
I took a dive
And although I lost my smelling
It felt alive

When I was seven
I played a violin
And although I lost my hearing
It felt like heaven

When I was nine
I took a line
And although I lost my feeling
.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Swaying of the Grass

1.

 

A path leads,

to where wild grass grows,

 

sashaying in the summer breeze.

 

2.

 

Along the path,
lightness settles within,

 

feeling the grass,
swooning,
tickling ankles,

 

swaying to the lilting bird-song,

in a dance of intimate abandon,

 

brushing the remnants of pain away.

 

3.

 

Melodies float across fields of green,

delicately caressing my heart,

 

teasing emptiness to flee,

comforting the mind,

 

to silently be.

 

4.

 

Walking on,
savouring the peace,

 

a momentary respite,
from the burdens of the now,

 

all is quiet,

 

a stillness cradling fractured emotions,

 

the grass in the fields sway,

 

dusk descends,

 

shadows lengthen,

 

nudging dimming light to take leave,

 

of the day


Details | Bio | |

Felled

I walk  in the pathetic pages of a used tired book
Crushed by the heavy leaves that lied to me
The older I become, the angrier I see
orange, red, yellow peeling 
Panting, painting, pelting poems
against a soggy canvas and sagging
lines like tired feet held together with
sad gray shoes

We're the oldest ones here
The doctor is so young
The lawyer is a child
The children are all grown
My grandbaby is going to college

Still when I brushed my hair today
and sashayed by you
a lilt to my tongue and a 
swagger in my lips
I curved a kiss to you and 
blew an ocean of windtossed
leaves

I scooted under them
like a silly child
Smelling the earth
Rooting like a piglet

When did Tubman push her
passengers along
Putting nails in trees to indicate
the turn in the fog
the fork in the road

If she could work into 
the autumn and beyond
Why kant I rite the lanterns 
of my life?

And in autumn
You don't need permission
To fall and land in earthy
grandeur

Staggering, solemn, orange
Reborn like a felled tree


Details | Lyric | |

brick laden air

Brick laden air, choking breath. Red heart rent by whispers carrying your voice
Chameleon colored leaves dropping dew
Fragrant warm wind breathed on the nape of your neck
Ululations fondled, pedophilic fires lit in your loins
Disasters renewed, 
Frogs trill with longing they have my voice.


Details | Rhyme | |

THEY WERE MY BLUEST SKIES

They were my bluest skies
where my fantasies thrived,
where dreams continued to rise...
to reach luminous clouds of pride.


Seasons drastically transformed
their colors from bright to dark...
as the playful sun rearranged
everyone of them with a spark.


They were my bluest skies   
I fixed my long gaze on... 
to foretell joy or demise
with an unexpected sign. 


Still my advanced days have the incredible display of vitality
of those I spent in the agitated, cold waters I braved;
and if courage ever dimmed, I would rely on agility...
now, many more days await me, unless my fortress is razed.  



Details | Free verse | |

Winds of Change

Like the winds gone by
The feelings come and go
One time strong and powerful
Able to move through most encounters
Other times small and insignificant
Power stripped from time and lack of flow
Always left feeling lost and yearning
Yearning for the time when things were stronger
Strong enough...to Prevail...


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Poets' Day, At The Beach ... '

The  Men, Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves
The Women, Splashed and Sprayed and Splayed
And Laughed and Cried In Salty, Foam-Crests
In Liquid-Blue, Up To Our Breasts …
On Bright, Shine Afternoons …
Or In Fog, Floating In From Coasts, Subdued

And The Men Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves
Playing and Surging, Roaring Out Praise
Buoyed High, Bobbing Up and Down
So Quick, So Strong, The Men Swam …
And Women, Wet in Swimsuits
Carried Away Corals and Seashells, As Loot

Putting Them To Our Ears, Everyday
To Hear What Echoes of Sea, Had To Say
And On Soft, Crystal Sand, Pearls, We Did Lay
As The Men, Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves …


Details | I do not know? | |

Seasonal Thoughts

The sun is still warm,
the trees, full of leaves,
yet one or two, yellowed,
have fallen.
As the first, fresh winds
of autumn
clear cobwebs away
the days grow shorter,
the last of the summer flowers
give their all,
and another season passes
without protest,
as another summer passes
like a dream.


Details | Ballad | |

FROM ONE LOVER TO THE OTHER

Beautiful and loveable one,
you've vanished into nothing
and left me hanging
with a question in mind:
could I ever find someone...
who's witty and kind?

I am going, like a merry-go-around,
from one lover to the other...just giving
love to anyone who's able to bring
some passion and feeling!

I'd rather go back in time today,
and relive those moments again...
the ones that can take this pain away,
to make me remember the warm rain
coming down.. when spring
gave us another song to sing!  
    
 I am going ,like a-merry-go-around,
from one lover to the other... hoping
that on the other side someone is waiting!
I have kissed others with selfish eyes
and simply realized what was missing:
 you were unique in everything,
filled me up with joy and surprise...
making me discover another world! 

My long nights are as cold 
as these smooth satin sheets...  
I'll find a better reason to believe
that I can close these eyes tonight and dream!
And if years don't turn into days, I'll wait...
until I have stopped going 
from one lover to the other,
and wasted what you adore!

The sooner you realize my endless need,
the faster I will stop running wild and breath!  



Details | Haiku | |

'Yellow Rose of Texas' (Haiku # 14)

‘ Yellow Rose of Texas ’ Haiku  # 14

         A Lone Star Shone On
         A Yellow Rose of Texas
         and Bluebonnets Grown


Details | Narrative | |

THE LUSH HILL

The lush hill towered over the quite town mostly built with big rock;
it had three tall church towers
with different distinguished styles: Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque...
wondrous was every sunrise!


   
Oh, their loud bronze bells could be heard ringing
through the vast, sun-washed and peaceful valley
sorrounded by mountains that reached a sky so dazzling...
then the clock-tower stroke each hour so precisely!


The summer's aroma was kind of strong and irritated the eyes,
and it almost got me drunken as aged wine does;
and I ran to the lush hill thinking of finding a treasure
in a cave that the invading Normans might have hidden in there!


But to my surprise, only frescos of martyrs were discovered;
all the while, that treasure was in front of me:
Nature opening up with its magnificent beauty!
It took observation and reflection for the rare gifts it rendered.


Whenever I ran to the lush hill, either morning or afternoon,
I was astonished by the humble faces of saints showing no demise 
for their persecution and carnage by beast such as ferocious lions... 
as those pious faces looked to Christ for comfort in their doom!


Their image made me much stronger and believer in the Shepherd
whose sheep never was lost among grunting wolves waiting aside; 
and every mystery revealed, it grew to teach me not to be afraid...
when profound silence arrived bringing delights to an innocent child. 


Oh, lush hill...keep my image of young boy intact even after I die;
let it come alive when sheer curiousity arises and tantalizes...
to make me climb that lush hill again for the heart to fantasize,
and 'though my health may not be as vibrant as then, I must try!


Details | Light Poetry | |

Woods

I walk towards the woods
                       green and deep
Once inside I find it hard to sleep
What an illusion the woods do give
of being green and being neat
Since deep inside animals sleep
                        waiting till night
that's when they eat
I lie and I watch
              see shadows in the dark
My mind becomes fuzzy
              my body scared
I see a large -- large bear
              standing in the night
He approaches my tent
               from the right
grips my shoulder
               rolls me over
my eyes blur with fright
the bear growls
                It's just me son
       it's daddy


Details | Free verse | |

GRANDMA'S TREE

A large Mango tree
That has a name
“Grandma's tree”
In every rainy season 
She would blossom 
My Aunty was so happy 
In preparing delicious pickle 
Using its tender fruits 
As soon as it began to ripen
I always prayed a breeze to come 
The cooling area beneath it was 
Venue   of playing  for kids 
Always I had been the leader 
But when my grandpa died
The elders in my family decided
To cut my Grandma’s tree 
As the firewood 
For burying his body in the graveyard 
Though I was a kid 
I embraced  it my tiny hands 
And cried so long 
Till I fell into  sleep 
But I could save my ‘’grandma’s tree”
Still it is here though rotten
Everything repeats as in my childhood


Details | Rhyme | |

The Balcony

It's full of my childhood memories
And those adolescent years...
The Poinciana tree,
All my sorrows and all my fears.
It's the place to be
For long waiting hours,
Those winters with bare branches,
And springs of vermilion flowers...


Details | Haiku | |

Wish

dandelion spores
scatter with a breath's wind~
I make a wish


Details | Imagism | |

Landscape of Tea

I would have you visit a place.
A sight that won the gold medal of my heart,
A decade and three years ago.
The green tea landscape of Tole.

Long green hills of tea,
Planted in furrows of three;
Rippling as waves on a sea,
Stretching as far as you can see.

Reaching across the horizons,
To kiss the brink of the azure sky,
On a bright cool morning,
The green tea plains of Tole.

Yeah, a veritable greenery,
Creating a semblance of Eden,
On a bright warm morning,
The green tea hills of Tole.

And if I had my wish,
Then I could live within,
Or in a painted version, to always see,
The green tea landscape of Tole.


Details | Haiku | |

Ghosts Hide In Water

ghosts hide in water

reflections of what is real

maybe real or not




(February 4, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved



Details | Couplet | |

Harvest Time

You may like Spring when flowers smell sweet
Or going to the beach in the Summer heat
You may like Winter when snowflakes fall
But I like Harvest Time best of all
I like picking apples and baking pies
And carving Jack-O-Lanterns with glowing eyes
I like the air of a cool crisp morning
When Jack Frost has come without warning
I like it when leaves turn yellow and red
That's when a blanket feels good on my bed
I like sitting with family and friends
Watching the sunset at days end
Then dressing up for the Harvest Ball
Yes, my favorite season is the Fall


Details | Verse | |

Blue Orange Flame Kiss

Merchant vessel,  clucking chickens , shiny buttons

Chanel perfume brandy  tobacco Van Diemens Land

Applauded expedition notions......Memory of that kiss

Gatherings in balconies ,stables, larders , courtyards 

Bathwater perfumed with orange skins lavender mint

Celestial blessing ripening vine gossamer silhouettte

Glossy  pear  trees  perculated coffee shaving cream

Flickering candle light projecting pattern on the ceiling

Quicksilver skin tantric Indian alchemy fiery flower kiss  


Details | Alliteration | |

MOONWALK

Suddeny it was all new
A new solitude
A new silence
A new emptiness
As if from a nightmare, I jerk awake
Where are all those I'd cared to call my friends?
Where's the meanin I'd cared to find in life?
What's come of those dreams, those endless dreams, that used to mar my very sleep?
New realms swim beckonin before my eyes


A light stroll , I decided, will take off the strangeness a li'l
Through the vast expanse, somethin suddenly began to emerge familiar
(Maybe this verve was mine, beyond reckonin,
Maybe silence n solitude were playmates i had forsaken?)


N yes, up above n shinin, was the moon..
So far away. 
N yet,
 never cross enough to despise me for more than a night.
It was autumn come a-calling..
The august autumn of another anonymous soul
And as i walked along, so did she
In step
Abreast
One with me.
N silence found a new meaning,
in the newfound infatuation between us.
My love wasn wasted.
Not any more.


Details | Narrative | |

Living on the Edge

“Wow, life”! 

Always in the proper order organized and determined to stay intact.
Step by step rules with regulations and all judged with such strict order.
And all of this is what’s focused on me?
My, My! What a revelation in front of me a definite soul searching moment indeed.
Walking the plank I can see death before my eyes and visions with just way too many lacks.
I step further in to grasp this concept presented so directly in front of me.
Ha! A life with nothing but clearly lots of undistinguished metaphors!
My, my living on the edge, 
Risky it may be but it encourages the will in me to succeed!

“Life”! 

Ruled by the throne of ethical, morals, and values,
Condensed all into one challenging the best of my integrity!
Step by step an opinion is drawn or the matter disregarded at hand, 
And all of this challenged by me!
My, My! What visions are in front of me a time to expect the unexpected my constant need! 
Playing Russian roulette with a loaded gun, firm and adamant I maintain all of my dignity.
Pushing further for results to stimulate an aura I capture a much higher demand!
My, my living on the edge, 
Risky it may be but it examines these laws that strive so hard to be!

“Wow, life”! 

Expectations meant for perfection encourage the best of me over and over again.
Step by step blueprints are calculated, analyzed and specified by the finest details.
And all of this is what’s focused on me?
My, My! What examples are set before me a moment to test my own integrity!
Sink or swim? A desperate moment I recognize and exemplify as purely sublime.
Getting closer and closer to the seed itself the core is mine to unravel and reveal!
My, my living on the edge, 
Risky it may be but it’s argumentative from all that I can see.

“Life”! 

A yes or a no, but never a maybe and all before my time so it seems!
Step by step a path has been laid before me all engraved in gold or stone.
Most definitely a challenge for my authenticity!
My, my what a grip on me, a chance to acknowledge what it is that I believe?
Suffocated by these laws that be, I’m caught in the rapture of my finest dreams.
I step further in to grasp the concept presented so proudly before me,
A challenge I care to defy on the Royal Throne!
My, my living on the edge, 
Risky it may be but I know what I believe and I truly believe in what’s in the best of me,
And that my friend is strictly my authenticity!


Details | Free verse | |

Willow Dreamer

Brushing past,

gentle cold fingers,

silent in a summer breeze.

The shelter a welcome relife

to a soul never deceased.

Blinking away time

and singing a mourning song

is the victim of an endless crime,

a weeping soul,

under a weeping willow.


Details | Rhyme | |

Currents

Sunrise across the river, laughter going through my head, 
I don't know what become of you, just a laugh away from, 
Some of the things you said. I can hear the river roar. 
Rocky mountain river, saw through a vocal score. 
Late mournings hours with only the days heat to gain, 
Watching, listening to Mother Earth play her games. 
Seeing the day before me, remembering you this way, 
Calms my upset unsettled thoughts that started my day.


Details | Free verse | |

RECUERDOS

RECUERDOS

Es el otoño de nuevo…
Me quedo quieta
Escucho el canto de un pájaro
Siento la brisa fresca
Veo unas hojas de colores ardientes
Cayendo lentamente al suelo

Me acuerdo de otros otoños
Algunos frios y lluviosos
Otros soleados y callados
Año trás año repite el cuento
De la muerte y el renacimiento
De la naturaleza y de las esperanzas
De las promesas todavía no cumplidas

Me quedo asombrada
Al imenso mundo
Y a la grandeza de nuestro Creador
Es otoño de nuevo…

mja


Details | Rhyme | |

Dancing To The Music of Fireflies

Sound of gravel crunching On a lonely country lane Then parking neath an ol’ Oak Tree Radio softly playing An ol’ George Jones song Of broken hearts and misery The hypnotic rise, before one’s eyes That only fireflies can bring The swirling sigh of hormone’s tide The intoxicating smell of spring The night slips by The moon hangs high honey locust blossoms scent the air My hands cradle your head I bury my face in the musky perfume of your hair Your lips to mine Our legs and arms entwined Our bodies start to sway And we slow dance… To the music of fireflies …Until the light of day…


Details | Rhyme | |

Sunrise

Sunrise into soft spoken clouds blankets thoughts in a uplifting shroud. In the moment you easily sit taking in every bit of the last of the world waking from sleep before your thoughts return to the deep. The ocean below as it ebbs and flows, it churns just as your mind trys to hold, onto the moment that gives you some peace. Before the day starts and returns your grief, of the hard life you led. You can still feel the dread, of how things used to be, the way your eyes used to see, the love the life the memories. Its time to get up and walk away from the morning and into the beginning day. Put that smile on your face, head back into the rat race. The day has begun with the rising sun 


Details | Personification | |

My Grass in the Desert

The midnight magic sprinkles in the air.
I can hear the every breath that you take.
Closing my eyes I am so lost to any existence.
This moment is mine that I create.
So very, very much I am content!
My soul is engaged with such a paradise. 
I am aimlessly there.

Ah yes! Yes indeed, 
You are my grass in the desert and I am so very, very near.
The glitter is everywhere, 
I can breathe the every breath that you take.
Closing my eyes I am so lost for time.
This moment is mine that I make.
So very, very much I am entwined.
My soul is entangled with magic so sublime, 
I am without a single care.
Yes, yes, yes! 

You are my grass in the desert and I do often come there.
The radiance I stand and bear.
I can touch the every breath that you take.
Closing my eyes I am so lost without a cause.
This moment is mine that I partake.
So very, very much I am lost.
My soul is entangled in this web of mine, 
I am so very, very much there.

I am lost in time.
Ah yes, yes, yes indeed!
You are my grass in the desert and I am here to share.
Blossoms are blooming everywhere planting the harvested seeds.
My grass in the desert is all that I will ever need, even when so desolately bare!


Details | Sonnet | |

Letting Go

It is the hardest lesson I ever had to learn.
Emptying myself to breathe my own air,
I went through life with nothing to spare.
My place had been set and was hard to earn.
 
In my heart it was for you I yearn.
Times were rough and never fair.
All along only I came to really care.
In my soul this began a fire to burn.
 
You let me down,
Broke my heart,
Made me frown,
Ripped me apart,
 
Shattered into a million zillion pieces,
I’m letting go of my lifetime of leases.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Narrative | |

THE DOLLS

When I was young, I had these dolls, in various guise and shapes,
The first was been the simplest; in it no single garment
or any ornament embedded, but only made of clay and heights four inches,
“Imperfect doll!” I exclaimed and clothed the doll in scarlet dress.
The second doll was only made of scarves of woolen rags in many color set and 
tone, 
“Imperfect doll!” I exclaimed again, and dangled some trinkets on its neck.
My third doll was more ornate and made of wood, which was slightly rough,
But its face and clothes were not alike from me; but of Japanese in a kimono
with a sash of obi around its tiny waist and wooden sandals on its feet,
“Imperfect doll!” I said, and furnished it with gesso.
Then my fourth doll was made of ivory, and clothed in simple bulk skin,
“Imperfect doll!” I said, and adorned its clothes with lace.
And my last doll was made of bisque from Germany:
fair-haired and fair skinned, until I noticed, some hairpiece fell as I untangled,
“Imperfect doll!” I exclaimed, and put a bonnet on its head.

And then I grew and see much of the world; more than my dolls, more than 
myself;
Like a woman I met, who’s very fond of costly suits and polish gems
only to make cover of her unwanted aspects,
“Pity!” I said, “she hides her imperfection!”
Then this bachelor who’s tired and aged, but still aspires for lofty aims,
“Alas!” I said “he’s blinded much of his imperfection!”
And to this lady I knew, who’s young and fair but lost a man she dear,
and grieves to him excessively, with no more time to stare and glad to other 
things,
“Alas!” I said” she mourns too much her imperfection!”
And for poor man I knew, complaining day and night to his misfortune,
“Alas!” I said, “he hasn’t done a thing to his imperfection!”
And to this dying man of severe illness, reproachful to his fate,
“Poor man”, I said, “he ought to know that death is not an imperfection.”
And lastly, when I meet someone who grief or find no peace and happiness,
“Alas!” I’ll say, “you ought to see that life is made of many imperfections!”



Details | Light Poetry | |

' Sunset, On The Sea ... '

A Ribbon-Ray, Across The Sea
Flung and Flown, So Prettily …
Velvet, Orange and Glittery
… A Liquid, Glistening Eulogy

From A Blood-Gold, Ball On Fire !
The Real-Bright, Red Baron Flyer
Descending Lower and Lower
Propellers, Turning Slower and Slower

Will He Crash, or Glide on Sea ?
Will His Purple-Smoke, Haze Over Me ?
I Stand Transfixed To See
Should He Plunge, to His Depth Suddenly

Not To Worry, Flight, is in Good Hands
He’s Touched-Down, Countless Times – Again and Again
For Red Baron and Ribbon-Ray Has Set Before
Pouring Ripples of Wine, at My Sandcastle Shore …


Details | Lyric | |

Early April

The road comes to an end.
As I come around the bend, I see them.
Grouped and colorful, the hue of early April.
It was my cue to meet someone new.
Who was there that day?
What cars passed as I made my way?
Could anyone see our first embrace?
Such grace exceeds through my mind
Contoured, confound
For me this is pure phenomenon 
For you this is just another way to say
“Hey, you met someone new today”
But no, I hoard these memories with great passion 
Without a train of thought
I can remember what happened 
And oh, the smells
The smells tell the story 
A tale of a boy with no worries
Not a want in the world
Caught at the right time
 What he got:  Love for a lifetime. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Before Winter In Wisconsin

Leaves entertaining with color
Leaving disorder on the ground
An icy grip that soon holds us
Eases with rising sun, for now
Breath begins to reveal itself
Hidden aches are quickly found
Right when it becomes too much
We defrost, forget and rebound
Humid heat of previous seasons
Waiting on cold to come around


Details | Lyric | |

ON SUCH A SNOWY EVENING

On such a snowy evening
When cold wind makes everyone shudder
And numbs senses with its fang,
The ever-warm heart remembers her.

On such a snowy evening
When trees shed dry leaves like tear
And melodious birds stop singing,
The ever-green heart remembers her.

On such a snowy evening
When everyone sinks in sleepy snow-layer
And life becomes tiresome and boring,
The ever-awake heart remembers her.

On such a snowy evening
When everyone alienates from each other
And the hateful death roams to sting,
The ever-loving heart remembers her


Details | Pastoral | |

Country Patio

The serenade
of dancing chimes,
echoes in the breeze
of July.
From a distance, 
linger the carols:
of kookaburras 
and gentledrones.

In the meadows paved
of callow blossoms,
bunnies canter 
like summer snowballs.
Flutterbies woo
each crimson leaf,
sneaking pollens in pockets
like naughty imps.

“Ah, this is the life.”
I manage to say,
as my lips experience
earl grey.
With that, I perch
on the wicker chair,
and savor the wedding
of cinnamon and pears.


Details | Rhyme | |

Other Side of the Riverbed

On the silent riverbed, she stood
Where the softer wind had blown
Against the ground, she glistered star's light 
And eclipsed nature's splendor grown

Yet beauty tempted not my interest
Though her allure gleams upon thrones
But a sorrowful sound out her breath
Revealed a sorrow unknown

With the edge of elegy, she sung
A celestial kiss of tone
Heard angelic gentle melodies
And had my bleeding heart sewn

A mortal, mortally mesmerized
My reality away thrown
In fanciful fret, fraud my own heart
To lust for a heart of stone  

Was she a more perfect life than He
So to have been disowned?
Belle of heaven, curse my tenderness
But let me join in atone

In that frigid callousness of night
Her divine shine has shown
That the saddest thing for an angel  
Is for her to shine alone


Details | ABC | |

The Night and Her Ways/Lost Under The Sun

there is a moon,
shining all alone
under all seas looming side to cloud
fall in our night and wait for the one who makes
slip in the prowl
the beasts hold night at growl
howling their sorrows
move midnight forever is tomorrow
come to our dark we run deep in the dusk
trust your lost soul while wait here for the sun

trust your yearning haven safely break
grey sky a-standing
standing far astray

lost under the sun
lost under the sun
lost under the sun 
lost under the sun

there is a place
marble floor and blue
there is a space 
that was meant for what was you
summer now white a different sort of lone
cold in our skin deeps
looking towards our glow

lost under the sun
lost under the sun
lost under the sun
lost under the sun


Details | Elegy | |

Tribute to John Denver

“I am a song that needs to be sung.”
Words by John Denver inscribed in Aspen.
While walking the path alongside the Rio Grande
A circle of stones in memory of John Denver does stand.

Inscribed on the rocks are the words of his songs.
They moved me deeply as I strolled along.
Realizing that I was in Aspen because I did spy
A tribute to John Denver’s Rocky Mountain High.

It sparked a desire to experience Aspen for myself.
Now here I am encircled with John Denver’s wealth.
I wasn’t a huge fan, but I did enjoy his songs.
His words stand tall beyond being written in stone.

I moved along the trail into an evergreen forest
Dwarfed by the pines as the river flows toward us.
Emotional connectivity with Aspen’s sheer mountain beauty.
Sitting on a rock in the river my only duty.

Feeling inspired to move again on the trail
An energy spoke to me; no words were entailed.
You are a song that needs to be sung
You are a bell that needs to be rung.

You are the newness of fresh mountain air
You are the energy of spring’s budding stare.
You are the eagle resting in its high nest
Ready to soar through the sky when the time is best.

You are the Rocky Mountain High
Colorado is the place for you to sigh.
Heave out the energy that is stored within
Sing your own song with a loving spin.

In gratitude I salute John Denver’s soul.
In the beauty of the Rockies, he continues his role.
Inspiring people to greater heights through his words.
Thank you, John Denver, for my heartfire heard.




Details | Haiku | |

Let's Get Buzzed

billowing waters
caused by winds sudden onrush
electric surges



Tribute To The Sea


Details | I do not know? | |

Full Moon

There`s nothing as pure
and nothing as round
nothing as bright or
white as snow nothing
as graceful to me
ivory full moon


Details | Haiku | |

Gaillardia

Fiery red yellow
Iron plateaus blanketed
Flowers ignite earth

By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX


Details | Didactic | |

She River

There is a River flowing down the hill
Dump your waste on her and make the kill
For there was no one to question the maker
The lifeless River stinks of human squander,
She was cursed and rotting all the way
Carcasses, feces, condoms – they stay.
We were repulsed by her sight
For we have to clear the den fortnight.
She was our most preferable Bin
A place where we cleanse our sin.
Little did we know that she was our daughter
But there is no time to spare, she had to be slaughtered.
We ripped her to pieces and danced on our tears,
Together we rejoiced celebrating it with cheers.

I am the proud River once known to all!
Then came the day I met my downfall.
If you think I’m sad you’re mistaken
I’ll strike with vengeance and leave your world shaken.
Restore me back to the days of glory - or else 
Count the days and be prepared to be sorry.
You thought I was powerless and preferably dead
I will claim what’s mine, that’s enough to be said.
Where thou art mighty god, ye hath forsaken me
But I don’t procrastinate ‘to be is what to be.’
On the Day of Judgment don’t expect me to have a heart
For it was decades since you ripped it apart.


Details | I do not know? | |

"Midnight Morning"

My eyes gaze upon beauties before me
Fireflies dance upon the July air
In all their wonder all I can do is stare
With each flicker they come and go
Crickets chirp and call to one another
In such a simple life even they will find a lover
Moonlit shadows pass through the trees
Casting pale silver reflections upon my eyes
And so I close them to the star covered skies
The wind brings a chill as I lay in the grass
Time slips away while I lay still and silent
Midnight is gone but the dawn brings violet
With pink streaks upon the vast horizon
A soft dew sparkles upon a nearby lily
And a rabbit hops by looking rather silly
It hops about full of joy and life 
And I know that I am like that too
Full of dreams and hopes to pursue
And before me the sun has risen 
And I too must rise with the day


Details | Rhyme | |

Hills of Home

The heather caresses leather
As across these hills I tread
The boggy ground it squelches
Moving like a water bed

Don’t stop or soon the eyeholes
With bog water they will fill
Put pace in step and move on
A little further up the hill

The summit from cloud appears
A very welcome sight
With sunlight raising vapour
From the cloud wet anthracite

Soon legs can be relieved from load
And eyes take in the view
Retracing path my feet have trod
Past Bracken, Broom and Yew

Then down the hill with faster gait
My eager legs they ply
To take me home to cottage white
Near the fields of Athenry



Details | Personification | |

Link

Traveling through the galaxies of many and more,
I come up under a Star I have never seen before.
 
It had light brighter than anything I’ve ever seen.
It was intelligent and wise and incredibly keen.
 
It could talk it could dance and it could even sing.
It had made all of the worlds and gave them a king.
 
It had made the Sun and the Moon just for me.
It made me the link for the whole world to see.
 
I was to link each kingdom according to orders.
Each one had four corners and then four borders.
 
So I went around the galaxies linking what I could.
Many had burned out Stars that just never would.
 
I saw where there were no towns or cities at all.
I seen all of the planets made great and small.
 
There was a missing link to the universe I saw.
I found myself linking it all up standing in awe.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006
 


Details | Free verse | |

A Ride Down the Thousand Islands II

A juvenile little blue heron yells for its mate. 
In a quiet manner, you pluck a reluctant leaf from its home.
This is not the world as god meant it to be.
A stingray races at an amazing speed.
No sign or sound of cars, buildings, or people
That will change.
Low enough to stand and reach out
Crush the vast serene painting the world it absorbs 
It is not for us to cause more damage
The crisp leaf crumbles as it is grasped.
The kayak turns the corner in a graceful manner
Close enough to reach rub across its slimy skin.
A kayak floats in lazy elegance
Stress and with great speed throw it away.
The oar is placed across the bow
A brown behemoth emerges from the depths
Man already destroyed everything he touched
Paddling on, past the floating island
Branches stretch over the water forming a canopy
Water drips as it rises in the air
The sea cow basks in the sun
Wading in the water three feet away
Through the vastness of the Thousand Islands 
The kayak drifts on in silence
Consider touching it, but hold back
A breeze pushes the kayak through the maze
A sweet smell replaces the smoky aroma of civilization


Details | Free verse | |

The path of dreams

Tracks lead down a dusty memory lane
adorned with trails of dreams I've left behind 
Balmy vapours rise, sweetly intertwined with the
surreal patchwork of gold and shade
soft beauty of morning light
gilds the fragrant blooms, cascading down,
in a vision of springtime splendor


Details | I do not know? | |

A Temple Beside A Pond

A Temple Beside The Pond

A temple beside the pond,

Surrounded with date trees;

And trees loaded with flowers,

Receiving cold cool breeze.

Coming across the acres of farmers land

From grove of mango trees, 

To this holy peaceful place from home,

A narrow spiral way leads.

The pond itself adorned with lotuses,

Many water plants and weeds.

Halt for thirsty castles and tired villagers,

Pleasure of fishing and diving exceeds;

Fragrances of flowers and fireflies at night

Stand the place in good stead.

 


Details | Haiku | |

'Moon-Tides' (Haiku # 7)

‘ Moon-Tides ’     Haiku # 7

   Moon on Ocean-Tide
Crested so High, and did Ride
     Surf-up To My Side


Details | Free verse | |

ISEYIN

Aranmo laso Iseyin ni ohunso
Aso ti aro olowo faramo olowo

Iseyin
of harried hills and skyscaping rocks
of humming hurricane and haughty harmattan
of succulent virgins and tasty lasses
of fearless fighters and valiant warriors
whose pock-marked faces tell tales of
changing seasons and fading ethos

Iseyin oro
your looms weave history of a thousand wars 
and countless strifes:
a kaleidoscope of sweat and blood
of bellowing ewiri and clanging steel
that power rippling biceps on virgin plots
and drape distant hills with a curtain of  lush green
of rippening grain and swollen roots 
that taunt and fatten western mind

Iseyin ebedi moko
where conscripted corps rouse sleepy road 
mouthing patriotic choruses with con-fidence
under the shun or in the st-rain 
of howling bigles and snarling commandants
between rationed meals and bedless sheets
educated urchins recarve stunted dreams and 
swap affections under the blessing of  a passionate moon;
culred in a fraternity of lust

Iseyin
at sunset 
a million pestles beat doughy rhythm to
the drum of seasonless soup and 
fumes of fermented wine
At night 
shakabula cast eerie silhouette of 
compromising customs and daring smugglers
every hut,a garage
every house ,a warehouse
every trail,an artery for the systemic draining of 
 a giang dwarf
Iseyin oh Iseyin
so benign your sonorous throat spurn 
loric tales of crushing contradictions and 
mesmerising oddities


Details | Ballad | |

WATERBURY'S PAST GLORY

Old Brass City
with massive gothic chuches,
abandoned rail-roads
and run-down factories...
we still glimpse into that bygone glory
which made your name so famous!

O Waterbury, no Christmas 
can be compared to yours,
when Main Street glitters under the fluffy snow
and everyone hummers a carol!
O Waterbury, those starry nights
are too surreal and make lovers fantasize!

Old Brass City,in ninenteen-forty-two
lads and gals were sent to war to fight the Cruel,
and mothers cried as their sons and daughters
left this once-happy-town of friendly and kind folks!
And despite all the sorrow and pain yet to be,
they proudly marched off to defeat the enemy!

O Waterbury, your monuments inspire hope,
and remind all of your past glory and leadership;
and the brave soldiers who sacrificed all...
became those heroes we've engraved into the soul!
Some returned, many died to seal their fate,
and their courage and valour put an end to all hate!


Details | Rhyme | |

Ripples in the Sea

When I see this Moon and gaze deep into the stars,
My mind wanders as I search for where you are.
Looking up, looking down, this enormous Sea is where I can now be found.
Standing alone at the Ocean’s edge and hearing its roar,
My heart pounds and aches for so much more.
Gazing deeper and deeper out into this vast blue Sea,
I can gather myself with this soul that was given to me.
Ripples in the Sea are all that my eyes can see.
One by one they collide with force to touch what was given to me.
Infinity with the depths of this Sea, 
This is what the Moonlit Ocean conveys to the truth inside of me.
Standing alone and afar from the depths of this Sea,
Ripple by ripple captures the every breath that I have inside of me.
Oh how they carry every single thought away from the insides of me!
Reflections of our Moon spread across this glimmering Sea.
Endless and endless ripples!
This vision I know I will forever see!
I hold my breath and carry a true smile, 
Searching for that last ripple to reach its hundredth mile.
Alone I stand at the edge of this Sea, 
The depth of this Ocean covers over me.
I wonder and wonder can I truly hold what was given to me?
So if ever in search for that which you know you believe,
Please remember that I left me standing with the ripples in the Sea.
One by one they collide crashing directly into me.
I stand with a force that was given just for this person that lives inside of me.
Come to me! Please touch what is on the inside of me!
Feel what has been given just for the love of me!
So if ever in doubt for that which you truly know you believe,
Look deeper and deeper out into this incredible huge Sea.
The ripples one by one know you will believe.
They touch, they feel, they hear what is left standing out by the Sea,
And that my friend is the life that God had already chosen for the soul that lives inside of me.


Details | Cinquain | |

THE GREATEST SACRIFICE

Chill breath
of Autumn sears
the poppy scarlet red 
visages of young men,long dead
appear.


Details | Haiku | |

Hummingbird

Minute yet splendid,
you flutter with elegance:
each move poised with grace.


Details | Haiku | |

Banzai Tokyo

Banzai Tokyo
Land lashing tsunami tongue
Godzilla is home


Details | Pastoral | |

HARMONY

Back and forth,
HIgh then low
Black swifts scythe below;
Beneath the vivid hue
Wide-set celestial blue.

Across the field
Buttercups fill my view with
Dung pats,dried,and fried in the sun; 
Cowslips clumped,bud apple-green
With daisies dotted between.


Details | Verse | |

Rose Coloured Glasses

The fading colours in a trembling leaf,
Perhaps a portent of the coming cold,
When the heavy hand of an icy winter
Will press hard upon gully, flat and fold.

The rose’s vicious stems will be laid bare
Making way for the jonquils proud display.
Their sweet perfume partial compensation
For the grey and dreary days here to stay.

The cold sou’westerly wind on icy wings
Will fly over the brow of Mount Misery,
The wintery clouds fleeing before it, 
Not daring in unison to mutiny.

The manicured grass of lawns will go brown,
held hostage to the frost of brilliant white.
Hillsides alive with the gold of the wattles
Blazing on the steep green slopes in sunlight.

The tweed collars of brown will be turned up
On every sort of mothballed winter coat.
The rosy red cheeks will beam in defiance,
Yet another colour winter can’t smote.

The grand golden elms of Robertson Park
Will a brittle and brilliant carpet form.
A natural new millionaire’s playground 
To which rugged up bustling children are drawn.

There’ll be the loud shrieks of childish laughter,
And tears of despair as fallen leaves fly.
Soon their winter coats will all be soaked through,
With parents wondering how they’ll get them dry.

The elegant green stained spire of Saint Mary’s
 Still and silent shows the way through the fog.
Relentlessly pointing to the heavens 
With a message for ev’ry man and his dog.
 
The heavy white winter blanket laying
Along the wandering waters of Cudgegong, 
Spills out into town hiding morn’s magpies, 
Intent on heralding the dawn with song.

Such are my closely held boyhood memories 
Of frostbitten freezing winters ‘back home’.
The view through these rose coloured glasses 
Afflicting the reminisces of this poem.

Looking over my shoulder I’m reminded
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.
And I can vouch for the time-honoured truth,
As through the years I have set to wander.

For here I sit in my favourite spot
As the sun shines on this the Queen’s land.
In this pale northern version of winter ,
Where it’s mid May and the weather’s still grand.

Perhaps if I could just make a visit,
Get a taste and then too quickly retreat.
For there is no doubt it would bite hard
After several years of life in this heat.

Still, my children both look at me askance
When I talk fondly of frost, fog and ice.
Of cutting winds, low clouds and warm fireplace,
Oh, to go back there - wouldn’t it be nice!


Details | Free verse | |

Mandala Trance

Gazing at the sun
in the very core,
I feel my body
release my soul.
Staring at the rays
and tongues of flame,
my eyes are soothed
with my exhales.

The whisper of the breeze
and the bamboo flute:
with the song of chimes,
ignites my mood.
Suddenly aware 
of the voice of my heart,
like a long lost friend,
it starts a chat.

A touch of jasmine
in the scent of grass
has slowly seeped
his fading musk.
The wind unleashed
my burning tears,
washing away
his memories.


Details | Haiku | |

my twinkling star-


my twinkling star-
if only it appears tonight.
the lonely pillow…


Details | Free verse | |

Frostbite

The snow crunches under my toes.
I feel like Frosty, wrapped up and poofy yet bitterly cold.
Cracking ice, frozen breath, my nose turns a painful pink.
I scoop up snow without gloves,
To examine each individuality...
My life-long curiousity with Wilson A. Bently's science.
My fingers tighten and prickle with cold,
so I follow animal tracks home.
I, bundled and cheerful,
Amble home from the frost to the hearth.


Details | Haiku | |

Grains of Sand

Weathered, eroded...
All these fragile stones and shells
now peacefully rest.


Details | I do not know? | |

Calypso and the Scent of July (Fiboquatro)

A
hot 
summer 
stole my wish, 
unprecedented,
like a silent thief in the night;
although I adore the stars here, for they welcomed me

as if I am one of them, yet, my heart longs for the city tower; 
I felt the night breeze…and silver moon above me floating patiently,
it is breathing and breathing, with me; I’ve named the unnamed wild flower
after me, climbing to a tree with sweet fruits, soon to be reaped by me.

I should be writing the scent of July, as I wait 
for blue September, but I’ve no 
will to do it, for
I’m worn out,
without
my
love!	



 


Details | Quintain (English) | |

Pentastich-PABLO'S IMMORTALITY

He died as all humans die, 
and yet his thoughts have never ceased...
to declare a mortal an immortal:
expressing himself with works 
full of sensitivity and awareness. 


He lived and breathed that Chilean air,
sent from the mixed breezes of the Andes;
and sitting down on a warm rock,  
he contemplated the white peaks of those mountains...
gleaming from distance, to instill more tenacious memories.


Pablo glorified the human spirit
with its unflinching fortitude, 
to describe the joy or sadness of a certain age;
and absorbed in profound thought,
he continued writing until death stopped his breath.



Details | Free verse | |

Quaker Lake, NY

Lightening bugs flash, 
like the worn celluloid images of old movies,
I sit beneath a great Greta Garbo moon.
I am the heroine of this short.
The dew point drops,
Mists rise.
Crickets chirp.
Muskwats buzz.
Loons ululate and wail.

My dialogue,
The click and whir of my spinning reel.
The glug-glug-glug of the Hula Popper lure.
To prepare for the climax,
Bring out the proven method acting.
I taste the dirt on my fingers,
Licking and twisting monofilament.
The savory sign of night-crawler trails.
Add the bobber, the weight.
I smell the algae and rotting leaves.
The sweet stew of the lake.
My nose tingles from the life motes it captures.
I cast. 

This night, I ad-lib.
There never was a script,
No stupid fish.
Fade to Me,
The Garbo moon,
Clever fish,
Loon interlude.


Details | Free verse | |

Murder of a Betrayed Soul

Have you slowed your busy pace to take notice of a drop of rain? 
 As the sun glints through it, do you see its natural and quiet beauty?
Becalm your soul in the exquisite burst of color from a leaf after autumn’s first kiss.
Have you tuned your ear to the fall of the first snowflake of winter?
Become mesmerized by the quiet order in natures every soft footfall? 
As the season’s tiptoe past, do you draw inspiration, or blindly immerse yourself in the bland cares and concerns of your daily rush?
Grinding your soul into nothingness on the treadmill of society’s thoughtless whims.
Imprisoned in a self-made sightless box of disregard. 
Your spirit slowly snuffed out without so much as an objection to the lack of trial or jury. 
Will you call a mistrial, or will you pray for a last minute death row pardon? 
Have you betrayed your soul?

                                                                                                                                Summer Gratias


Details | Free verse | |

Dove eyes

Her soft words
Fluttered around me
Like a dove
Her eyes wooed my heart
My mind as she took me
Into the moonlight
Where a thousand harps
Synchronized on the breeze
Over my mind
My longings
Stringing me into her dreams
A place where my feet
Could never touch the ground

I danced on mars
And Saturn’s rings
Spinning out of control
Till I realized
It was but a dream
Her lips were never mine
But an elusive promise
Born of the wind
The wind will take her
Tumbling
Where it will

I have to let her go
My sweet pain
Lest there is nothing
Left of me
In this vast desert plain
Where stars pierce the night
And day brings only sorrow
Where rivers rarely flow
Where jackals call
To the moon
For their mate
And I am left alone
On the dark side
Of the moon

© Brenda V Northeast  2011



Details | Prose Poetry | |

English Garden

I have found the treasure
that lies at the Rainbow's end;
surrounded by Sweet William, for-get-me knots,
and crimson shades of velvet rose.

Near the cottage of old where I was young,
the quaint charm of the English garden.
Where time has not weathered with due harm,
swirls of hued asters still in the brisk fresh air.

Moments spent dancing with cupid in midst
of a sunny afternoon.
Seconds where dreams danced on the moon,
sweet perfume floats by to wisp away my breath.
Up ahead mine eyes view the grassy slopes
where a thousand of narcissus bloom.

I watch them sway the day away tossing 
their sweet perfume to the winds.
Wicker seats and ivory benches upon I sit and muse.
The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden,
a rose plot, fringed pool and serenity.

Burn the sage, the leaves of rose and wintergreen
Light the candles in the middle of the afternoon.
From within my center core I breathe for more of this
paradise near heavens view.

Sweet surrender to growing things, cupids chimes in
melody rings, for here is a heavenly peace that mirrors
my thirsty soul.


My x4 Great Grandmother was from England a Duchess but she chose to marry my X4 Great
Grandfather and lost her inheritance and rights for neglecting the wishes of the family in
England. He was a Captain of the sea and brought many to the American shores of Mass. In
reading and studying, I found she loved to write of the sea and those things she cherished
from England and growing up, from memoires, she has touched my muse and from time to time,
I let her speak of such cherished beautiful things.


Details | Haiku | |

The Lone Starfish

The lone starfish writhes,
Forgotten by the vast sea-
It shrivels like skin.


Details | I do not know? | |

Broken Fences

in my mind I am swimming through time
 
into silver springs frozen pristine
 
effervescent
 
reminiscent of flowers fluorescent 
 
and I remember Christine Sixteen
 
shivering a Heaven scent
 
Now, let me regret 
 
never sending love letters that a fool should have sent
 
 
 
I am dancing in darling daffodils and floating in forever
 
I am mesmerized by reflections of eyes so very vivid blue
 
I see young enduring red hearts beating on the brink of never
 
and I watch rolling rivers of innocent me spill into beautiful you
 
cascades of colorful waterfalls creating hue
 
creating something brand new
 
something comfortably warm 
 
something so true
 
 
 
These dreams somehow now tantalize my senses
 
As I watch us swim and dance in the shadows of secret trees
 
I can see us climbing broken fences
 
 
 
 
Do you remember days like these
 
 
Days when two young lovers could kiss a gentle breeze 
 
 
 
and bring Forever to her trembling knees


Details | Haiku | |

Leaves

Poured on hair and face,
Swept by winds of past
Freshness of the trees.


Details | Sonnet | |

SASKATCHEWAN SPRING MORNING

SASKATCHEWAN   SPRING   MORNING



Dawns another early spring day:
Garden is frozen on stillness’ edge,
Door crackles open as ice strips away,
White lawn,  white branches,  white hedge.

Warm breath clouds in front of face;
Don’t want  footsteps to spoil
Cold freshness filling this tiny place
And perfection painted at night on soil.

Silent  snow swirls all around  -
Saskatchewan spring in my garden small.
Chill air nips new shoots on the ground,
Hidden behind my hedge  and wall.


        Beyond the hedge,  a  thousand miles white,
        The  prairies awaken from the night.


Details | Sestina | |

THE CLOSEST COMPARISON

A cherub with a rosy face
and plenty of curly hair
that the breeze loved to lull,
more than the daises so fair;
and that was the closest comparison...
to the beautiful child he once was!


The youngest dreamer ever to be born
with eyes as bright and lively as stars,
such were his to take imagination
beyond every possible dimension;
and such was the closest comparison...
to see himself as the beautiful child he once was!


He grew up too fast with an instinct
that was immensely blessed;  so keen,
privileged and gallant seemed that fearless
kid not to be able to earn one's keep,
to make perfection the closest comparison...
to the beautiful child he once was!


The shady paths covered by the swanky pine trees,
were as dusty as any country road which needed rain,
and it came without ever wishing for it;  and he welcomed 
it by getting wet, to lose himself in its gentle peace;
and what other closest comparison would he have made?...
If not that of the beautiful child he once was without worry and pain!   


Entered in Deborah Guzzi's poetry contest


Copyright 2009  by Andrew Crisci


Details | ABC | |

Moon At Noon!

I was lying leisurely on my back
on mid-morn Monday of May second
My gaze and glance heavenbound
The cloud forming into mountainous sheet, i observed
And disintegrating, like surf they dissolved
Disintegrated but in characters so hieroglyphics
Like Michelangelo's renaissance sculptural acrobatics
Through it i  had a permitted view
Of the noon by its arc in lieu
Of its fullnes, without its alluring presence
Stripped of its illumining essence
Appeared grey, blue and off-white
Stood plainly and passively tight
Like a lone spectator in an arena
So, the moon at noon seen but no sooner
Gone, like a spy that was almost unmasked
In consipracy by the uniting cloud concealed



This poem intends to capture a moment of passing day in time in rhyme for 
posterity, May 22nd 2005. 


Details | I do not know? | |

A Natural Lady

I like hamburgs and hotdogs.
I even like a brat.
At cookouts it don't matter...
Just cook up what you've got.

I don't mind getting dirty.
My shoes won't stay on long.
Don't let me see you cover your ears
while I sing my favorite song.

I like to fish with live bait.
I just prefer the worms.
You'll never hear me hollar
when it wriggles and it squirms.

I'm just a natural lady.
I live with mother earth.
My family says I'm normal...
for what their opinion's worth! 


Details | Free verse | |

Nature

I gently glide through the flowered fields of life,
My fingers tap the ends of the petals,
Habitually hitting like typewriting excercises,
Smooth but Jagged.

The wind blows mightily for a second,
As if warning me of trials forthcoming,
Pieces of pollen dance joyfully in the air,
And then sink to redemption.

The ground whispers as i pass,
Taking deep breaths,
As i climb the lowest mountain, 
And cross the shallow vallies,
Into Nature.


Details | Haiku | |

Koi Pond

Koi Pond
Tranquil garden dream;
orange fish surface to catch food,
trickling waters.


Details | Rhyme | |

Clouds, Clouds

Clouds, Clouds!
So huge in the bright blue sky!
Sometimes you move way too slow,
Sometimes way too fast,
So white and fluffy,
Such a comfort from a distance so far!
Clouds, Clouds!
Oh how I want to be you,
Forever afloat in a stream that high!

Clouds, Clouds!
You are so beautiful!
Shielding the bright radiant colors in the big blue sky!
Sometimes you’re way too high,
And sometimes way too low!
So bright and pleasant,
Such wonderful colors shine through you!
Clouds, Clouds!
Oh how I want to be you,
A beauty that I could forever call mine!

Clouds, Clouds!
So real with your depictions,
Truly you take my breath away.
Sometimes you show it perfect,
And sometimes I have to think!
So white and fluffy,
Such pictures are drawn in my mind. 
Clouds, Clouds!
Oh how I want to be you,
Forever I would have something to say!


Details | I do not know? | |

Kitchen Window Reverie

Kitchen window reverie
with the sun streaks flooding through the inchworm green leaves of the China Berry tree.
Walls dapple dancing
with mottled shadows mirroring the underwater sunlight ripples filtered through the fluid 
sea.
Delight in my mother’s eyes
with creation on her finger tips and Russian Gypsy blood like fire in her veins
Smiling with elation at the simplest of life’s pleasures
Living within the luxury of her means.


Details | Haiku | |

Scents of Summer

in the summer heat
luscious blackberries glisten~
cobbler scents the air


Details | Narrative | |

The Poets Dance

Paint pots and magic at the stroke of a brush, it’s the power of a picture for the lovers in lust. The splashing of water and addition of choice, it’s a musician’s beat, and the poets to rejoice. Hungary caterpillars and the ladybugs dance, it’s nature’s festival and the Devil’s mischance. The warmth of summer’s night amongst a starry sky, it’s the sparkle of lanterns drifting up to Shanghai. The poets and the dreamers smear ink to the page, it’s lyrical fluidity entwining a white witch’s sage. The smells and the colours are a carnival of love, it’s the power of family, drawing joyous tears up above. Live in these moments and build memories to keep, it’s time for our picture before we lose it to sleep. So take my hand as we enter the tent to the light, it’s an entrance to happiness and it’s just to your right.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Walk Along The River Bank

When the sun shines in the sky and no clouds can be seen
A walk along the river bank is like a lovely dream
Down from the bridge the narrow stony path winds
Grassy banks on either side in which white butterflies glide
Insects bussing on the wing 
Through the nettles without a sting

On down the path it widens out and we see the rivers natural beauty
With swans and ducklings here on show their parents on feeding duty
In and out the reeds they swim the little heads ducking through water dim
But then again out in the sun their tail feathers waving a good job done 
This display is truly cute as round the weeds the little ducks scoot
All covered in that fluffy down not quite ready or dressed for town

A swan her nest built at the other side watches her chicks as they glide
They are so very young and small with little short necks which will grow tall
Ugly ducklings they may be now but watching the grownups we just say “wow”
The forms that nature her beauty does show the best designer could never know

The dappling water with diamonds bright shines in the sunshine with delight
Gliding over the stones made smooth through the years
It comes to the waterfall to cascade down like a million tears
Into a pool which is dark and deep then on it flows the river never sleeps

The white flowers of the hawthorn are joined their blooms to share
With beautiful wild pink roses entwined amongst them here and there
The grasses sway as their seed heads grow out to catch your legs
The tickle soft and gentle is asking pick me will you my seeds please spread
Then the smell of honeysuckle brings perfume to the nose
A wonderful display of nature on show as the river gently flows


Details | Free verse | |

love's touch

the swans glided gracefully
making circles on the pond
the sun's luminous glow
a mirror reflection of their souls.

her heart skipped a beat
as her lips parted to smile
his arms wrapped her tightly
tender fingers graced her cheek.

he gently caressed the softness of her hair
his touch, a warmth she always adored
she clasped his hand in hers with care
the feeling electric; the way it had begun.

her hand stroked his lovingly
she beamed with pride from within
slowly she turned to gaze into his eyes
he was her heart, her joy, the love of her life.

he tucked her hair behind her ear
cupped her face in his hands
as he deeply & passionately
kissed her rosy, full lips.

they soaked in the moment
of love's words through touch
feeling the beautiful essence
they had created with love.

with nature as their witness
guarding their precious moment
they honoured their day
their anniversay; the way it had begun.


Details | Lyric | |

REMINISCENCE

Swirling, raindrops fall on glassy windowpanes,
Then dribbles and shrinks into countless pieces.
My life is scattered too into such floating veins,
Packed with memories in stanzas, lines, phrases.

Once in that woodland, in that mountain I sank
In desire, in ecstasy and in cries of numb heart.
Stirred, I sang my lyrical life on that riverbank
Where floats my emotions, my foremost part.

Thoughts aroused like sea waves that shrink
And left a scratch on those arid white leaves
With damp trunk’s pencil and emotion’s ink.
My heart gathers reminiscences in beehives.


Details | Name | |

Spring

Sunbeams melt the snow away
People go outside to play,
Reveling in the joys of spring
In warmth and light and joy it brings
New year is in and the earth is aglow;
Gone is the old, the cold, and the snow!

Spring


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Touch Of A Virgin ... '

Her Touch Was Shyly-Light
Full of Purity, In His Sight
Her Touch Was Soft in Timidity
Almost Opposed To His Temerity

Almost As If She Were Afraid To Lay
Naked and Exposed, as Helpless-Prey
Untouched and Untutored In Torrid-Ways
His Eyes, Seemed To Say … It’s Ok …

So, The Touch of The Virgin, Did Fall
Her Fingertips, Fragile and Small
Upon Broad Shoulders and Over All
Gaining-Ground, with Each, Moist-Kiss-Call

 … On His Lips, His Eyes, All Over His Face
From Toes, To Thighs, and Back Up, To Waist
Around His Torso, Sent Shivers Up His Back
Covered Every Inch, of His Manly-Track …

In An Instant … It Was All Over
Beneath Blanket, She Was Now ... Lover
By Honeyed-Moon, They Did Glisten and Glow
After The First Touch of ... Virgin Snow


Details | Narrative | |

The Fantastic Voyage

Living on the edge was a suicide way before my time!
A soul spread wide open with a spirit that truly believes.
Walking on water and backwards with life that glares over the sunshine!
The fantastic voyage rides the high and almighty waves of the greatest seas.
A voyage to never-never land right where I know I will always want to be.
True uninhibited expression is my addiction all within myself.
A soul climaxing in the exhibition of capturing all of the free empty space!
Walking the planks with the thrill of excitement from what’s consumed as it’s felt,
The fantastic voyage is aimed straight for that perfect little happy place.
My voyage to never-never land is where I know I will always want to stay.
Unpredictable with such balance is my mystery out there all on its own.
My soul opens and wills me to explore the depths of all that is real or such.
Walking the tight rope and looking down with my talent so proudly shown.
The fantastic voyage is never enough but is always over by too much.
My voyage to never-never land is where I know I will always want to feel what I touch.
Deep within the depths of all the deepness is where my connection is found.
A vibrant soul with brilliance magnified by a common need that has just got to give!
Walking narrow ledges with confidence and truly the one that has got to be proud!
The fantastic voyage gained my moments in time that I can say were actually lived.
My voyage to never-never land is where I will surrender standing on top of my deadly ground!


Details | Free verse | |

The Pleasant Racket

That cheese and apple affect,
chaotic yells for morning
revolutionised
by the simple cup of tea.

With smiling echo's in grim passageways
of graffiti laughs,
concrete surfs
and chewing gums dalmatian.

Rackets of rain
like falling rivers
are the singing shouts of
ambient joy.


Details | Ottava rima | |

ENTERING THE FIELDS OF MY CHILDHOOD

Entering the fields of my childhood around two,
overjoyed by the vibrant flowers that gently lulled 
and dispersed their gentle aroma into the noon;
I passed under the old balconies with flower-pots painted
in russet as the leaves of late and quite Autumn,
which elated me with their sweet-smelling scent ,
to please my nostrils everywhere I went...
body and spirit in full harmony, never being alone!



Hummingbirds fluttering from tree to tree,
to announce their departure by the dawn's blaze,
still warbling and making me immensely glad;
I hummed that song to ease their misery,
they flew around and landed on my shoulders
to start the making of a lively symphony:
and with no instruments and vocals,
we created a musical masterpiece worthy of praise!



Entering the fields of my childhood,
leaping like frogs chased by cruel rascals,
my escape to freedom from noisy streets and voices
of mothers calling out to their mischievous children,
to hurry home before their dad imposed discipline;
jolly and care-free I explored that unknown world...   
solitude was the source of joy for a prodigious child,
no genius ever became great without the urge of the wild!  



Pondering over my advancing age, and recalling that child run
towards the lilies' fields made golden by the scorching sun,
I wish to become little and start running again,
until I run out of breath and take a brief rest; and should the storm
pelt on the rose-bushes, and their buds fell off,
I would pick them all with the swiftest care and hold them
in my wet palms, and ever preserve them in this memory...
to enter the fields of my childhood and vanish into their immensity!

   
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Rhyme | |

What if

There's some who never see the sun
Beyond the light it brings
It's more than warmth upon our face
It's life to all who live
With hope to see another dawn
That rises to begin
The search for their own happiness
Whose journey starts within
Where time allows you free to wonder
What if tomorrow ends

And I cannot recall the sounds
The morning birds have sung
That played so long outside my door
That welcomed every one
But maybe took for granted
Of the thought they'd always be
There, within the morning light
To sing their song for me
While looking at the painted sky
That changes with the wind
I see what some, will ask too late
What if tomorrow ends


Kevin D. Fix


Details | Quatrain | |

DIURNAL DIVERSITY

The warm spring rain still falls on the cherry trees,
pelting on the sodden and drooping *lavender lilies...
forming a small lake, where playful robins
bathe and fend off the thrusting, thirsty shrikes.


Soon children will come out and act dippy...
chased by wild puppies and mousy kitties
fighting over their stuffed, torn bears;
oh, there goes my peace and *tranquility!  


The *fragrant lilacs are in dire need of growth and color,
lately they haven't soaked up enough sun and raindrops:
tingeing them, allowing them to revel in their *splendor;
never denying lovers the *dulcet tones of their voices.


The tranquil skies conjure up a past *bliss,
can a poet's unrhymed words, emitted in a *whisper, go on *lilting?
He will delightfully inhale the strong perfume of the breeze *wafting!
And will he create verses with *eloquence?


Entered in Andrea Dietrich's contest,
Word Warrior Challenge: Beautiful Words


Details | Blank verse | |

This dry winter evening

This dry winter evening, 
has nothing yet something, 
the clouds all dead, 
the birds all fled, 
the leaves all fell, 
the fruits sent for sell, 
this dry winter evening, 
has nothing yet something! 

Upon the cushion of dead leaves-come sit, 
let your thoughts flow-drown your wit, 
look at those trunks strong but bare, 
those dry streams none to stare, 
those half broken nests waiting for the hosts, 
those beautiful hills threatening as ghosts! 

Where is the Forester collecting the wood, 
The nest is empty-where is the food, 
The trunks so bare-where are the leaves, 
Where is the web that the spider weaves, 
Where is the magic of the evening skies, 
“lost in the woods” where are those eyes? 

where? They are all dead and gone, 
like that old Poet who wrote on and on, 
and as he passed-the legacy was thrown, 
somewhere those verses are still alone, 
like the various corridors of these hilly ways, 
waiting for someone to read-to praise! 
Saket Suman


Details | I do not know? | |

Spring Fever

I feel it
The tugging in my bones
Like a young child pulling at my shirt to get attention
That gentle urge to look their way
It whispers in my ears
Left shoulder it sits 
Then right
Left right left right
Never quite in view
Tickling like a strand of hair gone awry
It slides across my fingers 
Like an itch I can't scratch
The desire to move 
When I know I should be absolutely still
I hear it 
Like a ringing in my ears
Or a fly buzzing in my ear
The humming of the lights
It calls to me
Mumbling like the dry eyes commercial guy
It longs for me 
Like a drought stricken farmer prays for rain
It commands me to dance 
Flitting like a butterfly sailing in a windstorm
It burns
Like the fever of a sleepless infant
On and on it screams at me
I am coming
Like a wild cat at midnight
It reaches out to embrace me
Like little ones safe in their mothers arms
Restlessly I wait
For spring


Details | Tanka | |

Triple Tanka-CHANGING COLORS AND MOODS

Green was the color
which my sight beheld for long,
now trees turn auburn
setting a melancholic mood...
mourning the liveliness gone.


Lofty, dense mountains
tower hills with grapes and pumpkins
as their aroma spreads;
these cliffs suited for olive groves...
won't protect them from a storm.


Thoughts intensify,
foreseeing winter's sadness,
noticing the wise ants
storing food before snow comes...
this image makes one ponder. 


 


Details | Free verse | |

Night Song

The night whistles as it has in these hills for ages.
It whistles and echoes the endless sound
Of tree frogs and crickets in the thicket,
Of the distant police sirens' call
Intruding upon an under-aged drinking party
Far off into the magical woodlands.
The tone scatters out into the moonlit night,
Hiding behind mossy logs or large wet rocks,
Or running of into the forest until morning.
It swirls in the breeze and off between the branches
Of blossoming trees, still scarce enough
That the sound of their rattling appendages rolls on un-muffled.
It has a rhythm to it, if you think it does.
The whistle skips along the forest floor
Like the many footsteps of a deer herd in migration.
It lacks a rhythm, where ever that rhythm is not heard.
It is the song of the here and now, eternal and ageless.
It's a song that will be heard for as many generations
As this forest manages to survive,
The echoing yelp of a hundred coyotes
Howling in harmony at the silvery full moon.


Details | Free verse | |

Convicted

Treacherous fingers of discontent 
Threaten to strangle my dreams 
And stifle my right to existence. 
I stumble over vicious words, 
Fueled by spite and the rage 
Of misinterpretation, 
Designed to challenge my intent. 
I was summarily dismissed, 
Labeled a fraud, 
And relegated into obscurity; 
Judged guilty of a crime 
I did not commit. 
Yet, I remain loyal 
To my convictions 
As I expose myself, 
Welcoming the scrutiny 
Of those who would not 
Understand me; 
Steadfast and devoted 
To honoring the truth 
In perpetuity. 


Details | Quintain (English) | |

THE REALIZATION OF A DREAM

Was I, a butterflying dreaming...
feeling how delightful*spring was;
flowers in bloom and trees sprouting over the small willow,
were a fascinating* scene to reminisce when heavy snow
would have covered all those captivating*, lush meadows!


Dreams were a vision I believed in so firmly,
more than entrancing*...they were almost real:
enrapturing* all senses to lose sight of reality...
hoping that one of them would have remained unchanged,
encouraging me to achieve the realization of a dream!
  

Ah, another long year has finally passed,
and I have returned as a butterfly to fly and dream!
It's still beautiful with the waigtails merrily warbling
and the long, pretty bluebells frantically swaying;
this is no illusion: things are as they seem!


Written by Andrew Crisci
for Constance La France's contest,
" Daydreams, Dreams and Dreams...."
7/15/2011

                                                                                                                                      
                                                                                                                                      


Details | Rhyme | |

Whispers of Your Soul

Silence starts at the dead of night
Bringing the hope for a new delight
So we walked to the water
While I told her stories of my father
We lay beneath the moon that night
Such things now were trite
Then in an instant beyond this world of tyrants
We heard words echo through the silence
While still laying by the shoal 
We heard the whispers of our souls
Speaking things we'd always thought
Of which, due to time, we had forgot
Thoughts that had long been dead
As well as stories of the paths we had tread
We heard the whispers of our souls
Laying by the shoal


Details | Free verse | |

Spring holiday fever

Daffodils bunch, spring has sprung,
Sun raises higher to waken sleepy heads;
No time for hibernation now as spring fever hits, - 
create time to get together; go fly a kite, 
or sit and chill, make daisy chains.

Let the sunshine bring warm sunny days.
In meadows baby lambs take their first steps;
whilst mad March hare hops and plays
with baby bunnies dotting the green fields 
of the countryside.

A season where everything wants to bloom,
time to trim those lawns and weed again;
and all just in time before spring rains
will once more aid those thirsty 
flowers and bulbs as they grow.

For it is now that gorgeous butterflies 
flutter gracefully by giving nature a helping hand;
pollinating the kingdom while watching little chicks -
crack open their Easter eggs, just in time
to join in the madness of this happy holiday season.


Details | Rhyme | |

TRAITS OF A GORGEOUS CHILD

I had the traits of a gorgeous child,
different in looks and behavior,
only mother understood his tremor...
when night fell and he ran inside.


An adorable child expressing curiosity,
touching everything in his path,
and those hands seemed full of creativity...
when visions lured his interest.


I hold this photograph to reminisce the grace
of that tiny toddler beginning his first, memorable race... 
while his mom stretched her protective and loving arms, 
ready to hug him and reward him with tons of smiles. 


I had the traits of a gorgeous child,
obsorbing the vivid images and colors of the seasonal scenes...
I'd describe in my writings, to feel the essence of unreal dreams;
Oh, was I aware of my final stride?


Details | Free verse | |

Late Summer Cicadas

The cicada in autumn claws its love
Sounds against the glass door – I know
Love this way.  

These thoughts, upturned tables tossing
Contents, ours, mimic the grind of 
Violence sweet sugar, soot, love.

I don’t whose raspy voice 
Whose jagged-edged lips
Who raggedy broken tipped 
Claws life-splintered these 
Remembrances are,

	But I’ve heard the same raging rise 
	Scraping fade on battlefield’s: ghostly New Lisbon, 
Morgan’s Raid.

Many hopeful days crank I would
Pedals backward giving gravel 
The same great growl.

Now the greatness in the rough voice is between
The notes, the gap, the place where he waits
For an answer, so full of hope
 	We both could burst.


Details | Haiku | |

the One that didn't

Weighted minnow splashed….
Spawning crappie’s color flashed
Hook through the gill gashed

By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX


Details | Quatrain | |

SITTING BY THE OCEAN

The countless flights of noisy seagulls
seem like my days once idled away,
sitting by the ocean appeasing the relentless loneliness of my blues...
beyond that horizon, so traveled by ships, another sunset faded away.


Being brought here by destiny's hasteness,
I am unable to return to my adored land...
hinderd by unknown forces more devastating than summer's violent storms and hurricanes;
even the gentlest breeze can erase those memories still imprinted into the smooth sand. 


Springs have been short and winters last much longer, 
and only the red Lighthouse surrenders to darkness;
the gelid winds of the North batter the snow-decorated docks making the waves rise higher;
this calm harbor resembles a Norvegian fiord from where the Vikings left in small vessels.


Serenity is deeply felt, but not readily greeted as in other milder seasons,
and I can endure the harshness of any winter day with this heavy coat...
the cold and hungry beggar could use it and keep herself warm and sleep peacefully at night;
where's she? I've been sitting by the ocean, she hasn't come to melt away my frozen tears!


Details | Kimo | |

AUGUST

August brings us the "Dog Days of Summer"
The spring breezes are gone now
But I shall not complain


Details | I do not know? | |

Rippling Red

reddish rippling creek
large bullfrog up for a peek…
two boys with gigs sneak


Details | I do not know? | |

My Garden March 2000

I love my garden,
my beautiful place.
The perfume surrounds me,
of scented flowers abound.

There is so much love in my garden,
my special place.
where I often sit and contemplate,
the endless love of my family...encircles.

I love to sit here in my garden,
where a head full of thoughts unfold.
I love to sit in my garden,
my very special place...


Details | Rhyme | |

Humanity and the Sea

Engaged we be by the roar of the Sea
the surf it's waves sings it's rhapsody
 
The sea she waves be tempest crossed
the boys who sail 'er knows 'er cost
victims she's consumed overboard were tossed
her temperament engulfs the souls be lost
 
"er winds have billowed in yer sails
and cargoes lashed upon yer rails
the oceans swells where shipping flails
to bolster courage mates swell their ales
 
A place for men to conquer fear
as daily danger draws it near
there be no calm without skies so clear
them men count lives as precious dear
 
"er heart she be at never rest
with her bounties has mankind blessed
you stay be fleeting you are only guest
she'll swallow you and your life ingest
 
"er character be ever changed
no day with 'er be ere the same
her waters called by many name
there be days of calm but never tame
 
And man be found like angry sea
with little peace but on 'es knee
for her crests are tumultuous eternally
and laps the shores displays whats she
 
You scallywags have heard 'er tales
those 'er's taken that woman bewails
the times 'er tests and men she fails
who sought adventures in ships with sails
 
 
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C Michael Miller


Details | Verse | |

Its the Cool Season at the Seaside

Today the sea is angry , whipping up the waves in a energetic frenzy
The relentlessly pounding waves have eaten deep grooves where
once were gentle slopes .Waves slurped back  like withdrawn tongues
Its also the Soccer season and late night revellers rejuvinate by the sea.
Sunlight shines through the transparent blue-green rising curling waves 
The crashing waves rush forward pushing wave after wave of bubbling froth 
Frothing with anger leaving  trails of  froth  upon their return to the sea
The sand is dusted with wind resembles the rippled sand dune patterns
Flocks of seagulls teem  gliding above in the chilling wind unperturbed 
A dog, a cross between a poodle and a golden retriever comes bounding
Its long shaggy fringe framing bright eyes and pink panting tongue
plays with a mini-fox terrier in season with the ball on  the water's edge.
The two curious of one another interlace running and wading rythmically
the waves crash and pound around them.








Details | Light Poetry | |

Diminished Hexverse-DISILLUSION

The wet snow becomes slush,
and turning into rain...
makes all the pines weep
as people in grief.
Long barges glide
like gondolas
in Venice,
but no song
is sung
today
to
love. 



Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Quatrain | |

EVEN BEFORE WE WERE CREATED

It was there mysteriously hanging, as He 
shaped it in a perfect form as other planets...
the Romans called it Luna, and what a revered goddess was she!
Superstious souls still fear it, I stare at it with reverence!


Even before we were created,
that moon, which illuminated our dark Earth,
was believed to have mystical powers...
causing high tides and frightening all voyagers.


Luna, as magnificent as you are on a clear night,
by morning your glory will completely vanish,
and you will return with the shadows and by that bright
glow, we shouldn't be afraid but make a vivid wish.


Even before we were created,
those moonbeams softly caressed the lonely oceans...
when no human beings were sighted;
and she, the goddess Luna, ruled over eerie darkness. 
  


Details | Free verse | |

The River Called

The river called my name,
Whispering softly into my mind,
The trees consumed my fears,
Taking away all unsure anxiety,
The rocks grabbed my soul,
And wringed it of all frustration,
The birds sang to my heart,
With a melody so pure,
The wind took the tension,
And molded it beautifully into reality,
Nature itself stared me in the eyes,
Confronting me,
Attacking my pain and anguish,
Leaving me with sincerity and truth,
Freedom...


Details | I do not know? | |

In the still of winter

In the still of winter a person can view the frozen lakes,

The last leaves that shake from the burden of the frosty dew,

The noises of the loons from afar,

In the still of winter.........,

There really isn't musch to see , because folks hibernate quietly,

huddling to and fro,

We merely catch glimpses through the foggy window panes,

In the still of winter, silent prayers are said for a bountiful harvest,

and a summertime that is filled with joy and all the best things life has

offer,

Our reward for a winter that sapped all our energies and dumped snow on our 

doorsteps,

In the still of winter not much is said..........




Details | Narrative | |

The Power of Love

The power of love holds the battleground. 
Nuclear blasts from sea to sea. 
Wait and you will see!
Begging, kicking, and screaming:
Pleading, “Give it to me”!
Standing on God’s ground, defended by the armor and shield melting.

The power of love holds the mystery.
Things are never as they seem.
Do the means meet the extremes?
Where, how, when was I?
Wondering if it was only a dream? 
Standing on God’s ground, defeated by the lock that obtains that key.

The power of love carries the only prayer.
Time to come and be done.
Soon you will be the one.
Dead, black, despair:
Hoping, will someone hear?
Standing on God’s ground, lost in the dream in which you begun.


®Registered: 1998   Ann Rich


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Lilies

       Let my hand tremble in the light. Am I whole, shaking in this warmth that shadows
out of the darkness? 
     Have I looked upon the shadows and longed for its silenced cold? Have I left the
garden of life’s valleys, to enter the world of thickened air and false horizons? 

           Where have all my lovely lilies gone, if not scattered through the darkness by
the wind? 

The petals that carried my dreams and hopes, have they been swallowed by the fitful
wisher? No; I have moved my eyes, and let them fall to the grounds of the shadows in the
alley, always within my reach, but my stilled hand will never grasp them in the cold. Let
them root in the shadows of my mind’s alley – sinking into the cracks of the stones I have
placed, to grow like weeds among the walls of my reality.


Details | Rhyme | |

Simple dreams

A field of grass
Beneath bare feet
The smell of rain 
In early spring
The wind that blows
Through waves of wheat
That's why I wish for simple dreams

The birds that sings at early dawn
The sun that melts the morning frost
Once shimmered by the winter moon
Now drops that dance on every roof
And wake the flowers from their sleep
That's why I wish for simple dreams

To count the stars that light the sky
To close my eyes and dream at night
Or lie beneath the rolling clouds
With intervals of shade and warmth
Nestled by a rippled creek
That's why I wish for simple dreams

Kevin D. Fix


Details | Free verse | |

Summer Day

Summer Day
Walking down the dusty country road 
Skipping rocks over the creek
Running through the pasture chasing cows
Taking a long dip in a cool lake on a hot summer day
Catching a horny toad to bring home to Mom
Whistling my way down the long dusty road
Free to do whatever I please along the way
What a great way to spend a summer day


Details | Ballade | |

Gel Bana

Misafirim sana
Cicek kokmus
Carsaflar sensiz
Hasret  duram duram
Gel bana yar. 

Kuralim gecenin atesini
Tutustursun bahcelerde 
Hasatin  atesi sevgi
Kukresin ay sevdaya hasret
Gel bana yar.

Titressin ne varsa
Yurusun hep bir agizdan
Erisin volkan
Denizin dipinde
Gel bana yar. 

Acilmamis bahcelere
Olum yurumesin
Su buyumesin
Dogdugum  koyume
Gel bana yar 


Details | Sonnet | |

Desert Moon

Created, desolated, resurrected and even in reverse, 

You are a transformation under a Sun drenched day. 

Beckoned or heralded you climb above a beaming ray, 

Bristles of your hair shall glow and many are perverse. 

  

Shuffled, hurdled, corner-stoned and even immerse, 

You are a salvation upon a Mountain leading a way. 

Stripped or naked you run below an endless cache, 

Light inside of you shall outpour so all will disperse. 

  

The collectors shall find, 

Lost on a course in time, 

Many stranded or behind, 

Many with no unjust crime! 

  

Jacked up, a ripped off, a maniac or just downright a true blue loon, 

Still remaining is a red flaming shield up under a sacred desert Moon. 

  



Details | Lyric | |

The Nature Of My Mother Land

Tulips are dancing to the rhythem of breeze
Robins are singing ,atop, the old oak trees
Quails are waltzing , in a graceful pace
Butterflies hop ,from this to that place
Eagles are gliding down for a prey
Squirrels run for their lives, astray
Overhead , the sky is clear and blue
Underneath stretches the sea,what a view
Lovers on shore,sit in pairs and watch
Prints on sand "LOVE",one,in a touch
Sea,sand,Sun,love,silence and peace
Childhood's nostalgia,which ,I do miss


Abbas Kiamiri


Details | Free verse | |

Nostalgia

Pools in Winter are wonderful
warm, heated, and inside
keeping you smiling
when it's oh so cold outside
reminding you 
Winter can't last forever
soon the outdoor pools will open
and we will feel the heat of Summer


Details | I do not know? | |

Abandoned old Garden Gate

     (lilibonelle)

Beneath the Brambles on rock walls end
there lays a stately old garden gate
Lost to the world of traveler's friend
no longer there to accomadate those late

There lays a stately old garden gate
rusted and unhinged where it did fall
No longer shiny nor standing sedate
but laying against a bottom of the wall

lost to the world of traveler's friend
useless once and for all, disintigrate
None to repair its rusted lost trend
and by others to lay there postulate

No longer there to accomodate those late
still hidden where it dropped and fell
Dead to the world of the poets fate
lonely, forlorn, left in morpheus's spell


Details | Haiku | |

Fragrant Beauty

Blossoms so fragrant 
Rare beauty seen nowadays 
Elderberry jelly.


Details | Terza Rima | |

Lawa-an Tree's Tragic Majesty

                         Must have been yesterday,  
                     dark-green against a silver sky
                         near a craggy promontory, 
                     loomed majestic and protective, 
       mutely reassuring, our village's most ancient 

                                      lawa-an tree;

                         its colossal trunk and roots, 
                     mighty boughs and thick crown
                      had defied the fiercest storms,
                        held at bay the hand of time, 
         withstood the leaden burden of the years and 

                                      aging's ennui;

                    local legend had it that our lawa-an  
                            was more than a hundred 
                years old, so by their  own grandparents 
                               our old folks were told,
      an age-old secret the village treasures in its memory 

                                           like gold;

                             now, the silver sky grieves, 
                       the promontory laments, solitary;
                            it took over a hundred years 
                        to grow that tree to such majesty,
            but only minutes for chainsaws to chop it down, 

                                         such tragedy.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Hearty Ghasps

After the storm comes the calm,
where peoples' lives get back
to normal,
The emotions of anxiety and
fear, creates stress in their
mental spheres,

As soon as the weather breaks,
everyone seeks a reprieve,
just to take hearty ghasps
and breathe..........

Aaaaah!
The world is a beautiful,
serene place again.


Details | Light Poetry | |

This Evenings Sunset

Beautiful horizons on the Earths hemisphere
 Leaning backward gently make my worries disappear
 Words said softly with a new attitude
 The sun sets softly in a west worldly mood
 
Cotton candy colors blend till their blued
 All Gods time well spent after a hot afternoon
 Hot pinkish shadows follow gray clouds scoon
 We're waiting for the rain that is coming soon
 
Watching the wondrous sunset
 Coming up over the edge of the world
 And waiting for the moon

07-14-2012 Ruth Courtney


Details | Ode | |

the leaves of fall

red, gold, yellow, green  
and a warm brown
the colors of the fall leaves 
laying upon the ground
one Saturday morning, 
I worked very hard
raking up all those leaves 
in my backyard
and once I finally got a big pile 
looking nice and neat
a devilish grin came over my face 
before I decided to leap
and with the jubilation 
of an innocent little child
I ran full speed and jumped onto 
that big leafy pile
laughing and thrashing about
I had me a ball
rolling around in my backyard
in the colorful leaves of fall


Details | I do not know? | |

dancing on a SNOW FLAKE in August

It was unusually cold about this time of year
30 degrees in the late summer beaches
Snow was falling
Angels of white were doing the tango on the sea waves
Whilst I danced on a fluffy little snow flake
Being of Age but not feeling bitter or utter rage
I wanted to compete with the temperature's below normal feet
Margot and I did the waltz until 5
The music in our minds was playing THE BEE GEES' STAYIN ALIVE
Cold hands
warm melody
Lawrence Welk is watching us from the amphitheater on high
Boogie down with this jive flake that I have found
We should be swimming
But I will take the winter dancing on until..


Details | Rhyme | |

Fallen Leaves

Leaves of a tree,
Many colors I see,
But mostly green.
Plenty I have seen!
Reminds me of me,
Fallen from the evergreen!
Some crumpled and brown,
Dried and dead on the ground!
Fallen leaves of a tree falling loosely and falling free!
Reminds me of a spirit down,
Fallen away from its identity!
Leaves of a tree,
Many I can see,
But mostly brown.
Plenty on the ground!
Reminds me of me,
Fallen from the golden crown!
Some still healthy and green,
Shiny and whole from what I have seen.
Fallen leaves of a tree falling loosely and falling free!
Reminds me of a vision foreseen,
Fallen from Grace in society!
Leaves of a tree,
Many I see.
But mostly brown!
Many I have found.
Reminds me of me!
Fallen away from a life of dignity!


Details | Narrative | |

A Flickering Flame

Ah, a flickering flame with shadows on the wall,
With glimmering lights rolling all around!
I will remember them all!
A flame so high,
But a flame so low,
A burn out in time!
A linger much too slow,
A flickering flame,
A moment that I claim!

Ah, a flickering flame where light covers dark and dark covers light.
With glimmering lights bouncing all over the walls!
A vision of true sight!
A flame so unpredictable,
But a flame so respectable!
A flame hard to know,
And one that can’t be controlled!
A flickering flame,
A moment that I gain!

Ah, a flickering flame showing dim light within its own domain.
With shimmering lights reflecting a glare of golden visions burning too bright!
How very well maintained!
A flame so harmless,
But a flame much too careless!
A flame too passive,
And one that’s way too captive!
Ah, a flickering flame,
A moment that I’m holding with no shame!


Details | Rhyme | |

Prolonging

Lingering memories, those
I yonder,
I yearn for the marvel,
As I wonder,
All emotions grasped, 
I am torn asunder,
Thoughts of mine, all squandered,
Taken by its oblivion,
 Its beauty I ponder,
Stolen away by its prolonging
Sensations,   
Plundered,

In England’s streets I wander…


Details | Senryu | |

Summer Pool

Summer Pool
Bikini time fun;
hanging ten by the cool pool,
grinning men enjoy.


Summer Season Senryu


Details | Narrative | |

Watching the Moon Grow

Night after night I sit to see the Moon shining over me.
Watching its shield unveil a bright night I can just sit to be.
For each night gone by a star shines so bright,
The more and more I sit here this night.
Deeper and deeper I think tonight, 
“What if” I had no sight?
Watching its gleam covering more than a lot,
I just sit to see it shine its big light.
For each hour gone by the moments are sought.
So more and more I sit here deeper in my thought.
My mind farther than my further with what this glow has brought,
“What if” the man in the Moon was never sought?
Watching its shadows lurk in the glow,
I sit to see if he will finally be caught.
For each moment gone by clear nights I’ll now know.
So more and more I sit here watching the Moon grow.
There’s just so much to see because it covers over me.
I sit here night after night because it’s just such a true sight.
I give it quite a bit of thought because “what if” all of this was not?
For the more that it comes to glow the more and more I can watch it grow.
There’s just so much to know because it covers me with its tremendous glow.
I sit her with thought after thought because I have more than your lot.
I sit here night after night because “what if” there was no true sight?
For the more I can just come to see the more and more I can just sit to be.



®Registered: 1998   Ann Rich


Details | Narrative | |

RAIN FALLING IN OCTOBER

It's so mild in the quite suburbs
with rain falling in October,
and unable to sleep, I face 
insomnia for certain;
rain, keep on falling and let me hear
that steady, pelting sound on
the closed windows....a melody for
the saddest song should be written.


I must choose the right mood,
a minor scale to match this melancholy,
and a slow tempo growing into a crescendo,
and I could even throw in a scherzo;
and transport it with a C Major to smooth
some sadness out of the melody,
which tomorrow somebody
will hum, or whistle by learning the easy tune.


Hoping this song will be a hit,
thanks to the falling rain 
in October for the sudden inspiration...
when I couldn't think of anything else!
Wishing the rain would stop at six,
so I could see the rising sun across
the eastern sky and listen to the lark
that built his nest under my windowsill.


It's past sunrise, and the shimmering clouds hesitate to leave,
and with nothing to look forward to... I must believe
that the rain falling in October, 
can teach me the game of solitaire;
and pinned against my warm pillow,
I don't have anything to share but sorrow!
Flap your wide wings, friendly lark and repeat my song,
note by note; and without a lead sheet, I can't play it for very long...


Copyright by Andrew Crisci


Details | Sonnet | |

Welcome to Your Wife

If I were you for a day and you were me?
Could you love me more than I love you?
Would I love you more each day and be new?
Will the Sun shine bright in our eyes to see?
 
When will the Moon glow and lead our way to be?
When will the Stars shine bright by just us two?
Why does the dust give up its spurs on the dew?
Why are the doors locked with only one master key?
 
Welcome to my life,
Welcome to my home,
Welcome to your wife.
Welcome to this dome.
 
Welcome to the Sunrise this day in the light,
And welcome to the Sunset on this lovely night!
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich    2006


Details | Rhyme | |

Majestical Land

I was carried away up and over a topped stack just the other day,
By the oceans of blue cascading across shadows of magnifying rays of sunlight!
One by one they dashed through the trickery Sun as if they had no night.
I was drawn much closer in watching the Moon reflecting on the ones that sway.
Then I was taken by the swishy swore of the bouncy Sea rolling as the tide came in.
I just so happen to be taking a much deeper breath as the stars lit up like shields of sheer.
Breathless I just took it all in, over and over again until I saw there was truly no end.
Marveled, just down right marveled at the time I already just simply spend,
Then I saw a most wondrous bumbling bee, soaring aimlessly through Majestical Land. 
All in a single moment with time to spare, I saw balls of bouncing thunderous lights.
Then it was a much greater reach for a more logistical articulate helping hand.
Then I saw big white fluffy balls unfolding in the heavenly quaking open sky.
One by one colliding atop the luxury of just floating or shuffling them self right on by.
Marveled, downright marveled at what was passing me by, I just knew I’d die.
I absolutely was standing beneath the Majesties undeniably clever designated plans.
I saw blueprints and designs above the weighty scales and receipts.
What strategy for self-defeat with the books I write and keep!
Hooting and hollering cheering louder in Majestical Land, with my brilliant plan!
But then I was carried all the way back to the toppling stack,
The Majestical Land amazingly had not one single little lack.
“Marveling I tell you”! “Just down right Marveling”! 



Details | Rhyme | |

Wallney Oak

To hold, as twere, the mirror up to nature
To touch its bark and watch its leaves depart
As if the tree has somehow lost a wager
And with that loss, it somehow just lost heart

A friend thought I should write an ode
To this old tree on Walney Road
This mighty oak that cast a shade
Before the white man did invade
That saw the Indians depart
Back when Lord Fairfax had his start
That saw the settlers clearing land
Who somehow let this oak tree stand
And stand, it stood 300 years
It heard our laughter, heard our tears
It stood there through our Civil War
As Union troops went door to door
It’s known that soldiers set up camps
And on its branches, hung their lamps
Then when this country lane was paved
They placed a curve, this tree they saved
A landmark for those living near
This oak tree that we held so dear
But lightening strikes and driving wind
Have brought this oak tree to its end
Then suddenly one day we found
The county brought this oak tree down
Where once this mighty tree did sway
We’ve naught but memories today

Mdailey	4/20/11


Details | Haiku | |

At the Bank

Splashing of bullfrog
Catfish under old tree stump
Turtles on a log

By Robb A. Kopp


Details | Light Poetry | |

Hearty Ghasps

After the storm comes the calm,
where peoples' lives get back
to normal,
The emotions of anxiety and
fear, creates stress in their
mental spheres,

As soon as the weather breaks,
everyone seeks a reprieve,
just to take hearty ghasps
and breathe..........

Aaaaah!
The world is a beautiful,
serene place again.


Details | Personification | |

Palms by the Sea

Oh this Sea from left to right,
How my mind gathers your visions to my sight.
You clouds stray from over here to over there,
And my lungs fill deep as they gather you into my air.
I am the neutral zone with all of my love that I share
The “Palms by the Sea” give my visions their true light!
In each I can see myself inside of a seemingly height.
The Palms by the Sea are my only solemn oath I fight!
 Up inside of the tallest tree I shall surely come,
Your Earth, your Moon and your Sun I shall make them all come undone!
I am you as you breathe my life and it is your love that I shall proclaim in the moment I seize!
Up inside of you I am proclaiming my every single genuine need.
The “Palms by the Sea” guard the shores for my more, my all, or even none!


®Registered: Ann Rich 1997



Details | Free verse | |

Words to start a day

The world has turned 
one more time 
for you to face the sun 

When you step out 
into your day 
blink as you may 
but appreciate the force 
of a universe 
that spins this world 
in such a way 
that its perfect grace 
blows the kiss of wind on your face 

And when this day is done 
your only sorrow 
is to know that tomorrow 
this world will not turn for some


Details | Free verse | |

Quay Note

Currachs, like upturned whales beached

as musical notation on the quay.

Those sleek, mussel shelled torpedoes

ready to cleave though

wavewalls, green  and white-tipped,

chasing schools of quick-silver with

hand-strung nets tuned to their scales.

Rhythmic fingers conduct these vessels

in ancient songs that harmonise

with an underwater chorus,

carrying the music booming deep through the years,

where the call and response of the tides

meets the Blasket sound of memory.


Details | I do not know? | |

Come Walk with Me

Come Walk with Me in This Sweet Place ~~~ Come walk with me in glens of green. Enjoy with me the peaceful scene, where falls cascade and rivers flow and bracken ‘neath laburnum grow. This is my highland valley home I show to thee, that I may share its beauty rare, come walk with me. In this sweet place I’ll make my home. It’s been my fate the world to roam in many climes from east to west, now time has come for me to rest. So I’ll return, once more my hills I will embrace, Live out my life, my latter days, in this sweet place.
A wrapped poem.


Details | Narrative | |

The Sun on the Horizon

Honeydew on the grass sparkles with life as the Sun comes up shining.
Way up yonder the Horizon’s preparing for its glorious arising.
Purple, blue and gray radiantly come together and all stand out alone,
Way up under this great big earthly dome.
Bird’s shadows fly at distances, yet each distinct by their flocks belted,
And each disappears away in colorful misty skies where all of them roam!
Beauty in foresight is clearly seen on this perfect unthought-of day, 
Even to my own likings of a surprising.
Too compelling just knowing that all days are counted by,
Each exact group already individualized by being numbered!
Foliage secretes from its many branches of trees per several hundreds.
All with there own story to make known to the unknown.
Consistently re-budding as season’s change to each one that is now arising.
All seeming to prepare for that God-awful battle called Armageddon.
Years pass on and still the Sun comes onto the horizon.
Life’s at a standstill, yet, steadily ticking with the hands of time to carry on.
Nothing can be done to stop the cycle of our Earth’s creation.
For every beginning there is and ending as it is to see 
Dawning is “The Sun on the Horizon”!
Be thankful that you have this very day,
For the Sun is rising upon the horizon,
What a wonderful liaison!



®Registered: Ann Rich  2001


Details | Pastoral | |

Winter Journ

Snow painted maples,their leaves wilted and piled beneath
Snow carpeting,its glistening surface frozen
Fresh snow filled impressions made by traveler's passage
Warm thoughts my insulation for cold mornings

The sky's halogen glow vast and dense
Beyond my sight and camera's vision
This silent void and canvas
filled with memories of warmer season's yield
Concealed by placid winter's our conversations echo

Glistening snow and shimmering ice crystal ornaments
Jangle and clatter,precious seasonal matter
Vanishes spellbound by elemental magic
Adorned bare maple branches stretching skyward
They're unearthed roots yearning the sky's seasonal warmth

As the heavens weight gave, the ground swelled with pristine snow
Beneath this frozen carpet,spring's dormant yield
Where tall grass once grew untamed ,dense and concealing

During summers passed
Winter ensures its nature's task
Fertilizing dormant seeds of pretty memories and camera photographs
An inherent sacred past


Details | Personification | |

Diamond Souls

Hearts of gold fused by two making me the only one,
Aries, “I am” is you to all of us who have only just begun.
Crystal clear the visions I seek, you are the one that is complete!
You are a diamond in the sky; I look and wonder why you’re at my feet
I wish, I wish for your beautiful brilliant shooting stars.
I pray, I pray for our dragging existing time you balance so very far.
If I had one then I’d have two and the more I’d give for you to share.
If I were, then I’d be again where you float through the sky on a dare.
In the midnight skies I see the diamond souls lined all in your corner.
But the “Archer” I am and the “Bulls-eye” I target from your former.

Flash by flash I see your lights and one by one they glare by my own given fate.
Inside and looking out, I see your brilliance aiming extremely high with my “God-given” bow.
The stars aligned like chicken pox spread from here to there and one of them my mate.
Outside and looking in, I see your intelligence and draw my arrow with a big lump in my throat.
If I could, then I would dash from here to there shining the Diamond Souls by my very own.
But the “Archer” I see what I know I am aiming for up on high and you my Aries, 
You just tempted your own fate with your diamonds on my “Royal Throne“.


®Registered: 2001   Ann Rich 


Details | Cowboy | |

A Cattleman's New Year

There was just the wind 
in the tall swaying grass, a whisper
and no other sound.
The cattle were fed and 
we were on the way home
when we saw a newborn calf on the ground.

The calf flicked an ear, but stayed 
in his spot where his 
mother told him to stay
when we had called 
with the honk of horn
to come as we threw out the hay.

Now we watched, while the day 
had come to its close the sunlight
lengthened and died
the air was filled with a cows low
moan and she ran as her newborn replied.

We sat holding hands as the 
evening crept in and the stars
stood out in the sky
sharing that moment, a breathe in time
and a bovine lullabye.

Our New Year unfolded on the prairie
that night with a little black calf
on the ground, the whisper wind
in the tall swaying grass, a whisper 
and no other sound.


Details | Cowboy | |

Mustang Band

Up in the pinion covered highlands,
I came upon a wild horse band. 
I counted six rangy horses, grazing there,
including the Stallion and the lead mare.

It was truly a range cowboy's delight.
there were four bays, a roan and one mostly white.
The  muscled stallion stood watchful up on a rise,
and followed my every move with his eyes.

Then the stallion somehow signaled the lead mare,
in a language only wild horses can share.
She led her charges up a winding trail,
and her movement broke my hypnotic spell.

I admired their surefootedness and their survival skills,
as they quickly ascended the rocky hills.
The Stallion was last, bringing up the rear,
It was self preservation, not nervous fear.

it was awe inspiring as I watched them flee,
but a melancholy wistfulness came over me.
The Mustang, like the cowboy,symbol of the west,
drifted into the sunset, and went over the crest.


Details | Narrative | |

One Fall Evening

Rhapsodic melodies from shadows depth
Are the sounds in the darkness before me,
As the owl, loon and crickets sing:
“Come out into the night we implore thee.”

A harvest moon bathes me in a luster
That stirs my melancholy soul,
As I wander about the autumn landscape
On a leisurely evening stroll.

Cool moist air permeates all things
That surrounds me in this rural scene,
And the smell and sound of rustling leaves  
Makes it all so very euphorically serene.

And so realizing the importance of 
Divinely regulated conditions,
I am once again reminded of the reason,
For cycles such as these
Are quite necessary you see:
That is why they are called “Seasons.” 


Details | Verse | |

Favorite Elf +Fairy Haunt

Wild  land  ambitious  new world
Silver frost lay on fields +hedges
adding  fresh color to their faces.
Yellow sky caked shoe stamping
Steep and winding path to house
Fading daylight  tidy little cottage 
Old  oak and smooth stonework 
Progression through the house..
Fine china lace-edged tablecloth
Tiny pattern of dark  blue flowers
Jammed decks fresh rolls butter
Golden chain locket red curly hair
Mahogany table orange oil lamps
Smell the Autumn rain sweetness


Details | Sijo | |

The Red Rose

Mystical crimson beauty adorned by these callous thorns,
Artists admire thy unspoken grace, as well as thy presence. 
There was never a rose presenting such splendor as thee. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Tree

The tree did not ask
“Where are you from?”
And in my fatigue
I stretched out in its shade


Details | Free verse | |

Heart and Soul

Oh Gentle winds purify me
Free my doubts so i can see
The luminious light 
And escape the darkness night

Oh Mother Earth i feel your cry
Nature's  voice begin to die
I know im still here
But i still love you, have no fear

Through the Clouds
and beyond
Hear my calls in my mind
I  will protect you  even if im blind

My love for you will always stay
I will  pray for you everday
And give you my all
With my Heart And Soul







Details | Personification | |

Never-Never Land

I stare out into this huge blue Sea,
And the waves, well, they just carry me.
My mind drifts so far away,
Because the Ocean is where I lay!
I’m off to never-never land once again,
So take my hand and let this journey begin!
I listen carefully to the Oceans roar,
The waves, well they just help me soar.
My mind relaxes with my day,
Because the Ocean is where I always lay!
I’m off to never-never land on a hunch for so much more,
So take my hand and let’s find new places we can both explore!
I can see blue water with big fluffy white rolls,
Waves, well they just capture my entire soul.
My mind just helpless with my day,
Well, it is the Ocean where I lay!
Off in never-never land I can always see,
A gigantic Ocean covering over me!
Far away in never-never land near the Ocean is where I always lay.
Lifeless in the sand is where I’ll always be.
So take my hand and be lifeless with me in the sand.
Together, just you and me on our journey to never-never land,
Just lifeless in the sand, together you and I and always we’ll be hand in hand!



© Copyright: 1997  Ann Rich


Details | Bio | |

Mindful places

Bounties advance spring has sprawled
Silvery gray skies with powder puff clouds
The last decline of winter has since been forgotten 
Sweet calls embark to gather a mate
Reminiscent of yester years 
Blushing seasons whispering a favorite tune 
Golden forsythias now nearly in full bloom 
I remember as a child taking some into my small hand 
I was filled with sheer excitement to delight my Mother 
And I did so 
With teacup parties in my sand box 
And shovels and pails that scooped a tunnel to forever
The familiar smells and comforting sounds 
The lovely red-breasted robins shagging around 
Paging out her goodnight weeps 
As I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep 
The long awaited wondrous season has begun 
The day ceased with the closing of the sun 
  


Details | Free verse | |

' Moonbeams and Blossoms '

Moonbeams … Shone On Blossoms …
what a View-full, Twosome 

…  in the now-closed, Arboretum
and it was An Awesome …

… Quiet, Night-Sight
yet, Sensual – Visual

And The Fragrance, Drifting Around
 was Deliciously – Residual

I, must Reschedule
for Another Nocturnal – Delight

These Moonbeams On Blossoms …
is so Opalescence – Bright  !

Another Twosome ? …
If You’re Inviting Me Back Again … Right !


Details | Quatrain | |

Velasco Riverside Park

[To the city of Freeport Texas]

Near diamond shaped
and backyard small,
a park that’s barely wider
than the trees it holds are tall. 

Where a warm gulf breeze rattles
sleeping Palm-tree leaves
composing a feral music 
filling ears with restful peace.

A gazebo just off center
beckons without words to say,
caring for its sitters
shade from a hot sun's ray.

Where I sit in noisy silence 
from cars passing by
enjoying tunes from wood birds 
like a love struck, male Magpie.

A testament to city workers
the grass there neatly mowed, 
the hedges forever trimmed
their care and hard work shows.

So I offered up a prayer 
(Interrupted by a Lark)
God grant a grace of hours here
at Velasco Riverside Park.


Details | Rhyme | |

Twilight

Serenade, softness, and silhouette
Long-ago summer days would bring,
Before and after the bright sunset,
Limpid and languid and lingering.
I remember the crickets' castanets,
Coral clouds and grass still damp with rain.
Solitude then held no regrets;
Beauty was never marred by pain.
The thought of parting seemed as far,
When the liquid light lapped everything,
As night itself on the first dim star,
Silvery, seemingly slumbering.
Through shadeless hours of hot dry light,
Immersed in the present, I might forget,
But in the chill of the sudden night
Twilight from far away haunts me yet.


Details | Haiku | |

'Pitter-Patter...' (Haiku # 9)

‘ Pitter-Patter ’   Haiku  # 9

        Pitter, Patter On
Windows, Roof… Now Car Alarm
 … A Hard Rock – Rain Song !


Details | Free verse | |

Sounds of summer

Threshold of reverberation upon the season,
Whistling playfully through prisms,
Moments of rampant waves,
Secure resonance blindly,
Emergent sounds bellow outward,
Within crisp clean atmosphere,
Those that listen know all.
Buzzing, chirps, faraway calls,
All the sounds of summer’s morn,
These and more sell the time of year.
A cherished time, sprinkled in childhood.
Memories of these declare,
Sounds of summer have arrived.


Details | Narrative | |

Yellow Butterflies

In the corner of my eye,
Ah, ‘tis just a yellow butterfly!
A swarm of bees on its tail,
And whipping in the wind with a trail!
Gallantly afloat and drifting in the air,
A cardinal bird it did meet and then a bear.
Flying through the leaves of a tree,
And circling across the roaring sea!
The yellow butterfly zips on by,
Flying low and then flying high!
Through the winds it did sail,
Gallantly afloat a great big whale!
A swarm of yellow butterflies came to share,
The journey of flying from here to there!
Yellow butterflies were everywhere for my eyes to see,
And I was dancing in the winds when yellow butterflies started chasing me.
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Narrative | |

Summer Tale

Daytime,sunshine...crystal clear
burning through clear blue atmosphere
Tanning laserays of light
Ignite solar candled lantern aisles by night

Silent meadows and sheep grazed pastures bare
Summer's yield matching colors grown in pairs
Travelers' eyes steal glimpses of the ancient surreal
Clever celestial timing ,ensures summer's perfect weather

Past summers remembered
My skin sunburned tender
Its old age hastened ,its healing's slow,yet I've patience
Horizon gaze ,wading shallow shore waves
cold and curing,my sunburn tamed
Sand impressions proof of my presence
Vanishes as saltwater tides retreat
Forming rythmic swells, cleansing sand,fine as snow,each grain unique 
Potential their essence
Each memory ,an impassionate impression
Resolves imaginitive questions
Sacred memories remain life's essence

An unresisted inclination to explore
its endless trails is ignored
by wiser travelers who retire near crossroad trails
each day's passage,treasured memory for nostalgic tales

Blond sunlight through graying skies pale 
Dark as dusk,sunlight's cloaked in an expanding veil
As distant thunder grew near,cooling air held an odor of ionized rain
As electrical glimmers lit skies dark as eve which shadowed verdant plains

Camera eyes skygazing dusk to morn
Canvas skylight's color transformed
Night darkness followed ,silence filled this vast woods hollow
Heaven's light shone pale through eve's black veil
Pearl moonbeams and crystal starlight invite
Passage through dark meadow trails
An ancient summer tale ,
Eyes photographed evenings past

As morning passed
Harsh molten light shone through thinning cloud mass
Burning fine white sand ,each grain...fire glass

Verdant flowerfields ,summer's pretty yield 
Camera eyes steal as autumn's shades are revealed


Details | Haiku | |

Shiver

In the dull winter,
When all appears black and white
And earth in slumber;
I feel each splinter,
Each frozen sliver of spite,
And dream of summer.


Details | Crystalline | |

Morning Dew

Dew drops dance across blades of grass,
Eyes seep forward while youthful deer pass.


Details | Imagism | |

For The Love of Dawn

Mist loiters with poignance
 Enchanting... near silence
 With distant jubilance, beloved wood pigeon
 Praise calls Dawn
 Invites her welcoming gaze
 She adorns chiffon and lace
 Sheer elegance enters
 Eyes praise her dew drop smile
 She promises much today
 
Unveil her aura as a slow release
 So we may
 Observe
 Listen
 Smile
 Inhale her sweetest of scent
 Pure as crisp cool linen
 
 As.. 
 Grass bends submissively, weighty dew
 Which tinkers delightful
 To the beads of life
 Movement 
 Light
 Pearlised webs adorn her as dignified jewels
 She is oh so smileworthy
 As promising as a brand new lover
 Unveiling just for us
 
Thank you Mother 
Nature


Details | Narrative | |

Ripples in the Sea

When I see this Moon and gaze deep into the stars,
My mind wanders as I search for where you are.
Looking up, looking down, this enormous Sea is where I can now be found.
Standing alone at the Ocean’s edge and hearing its roar,
My heart pounds and aches for so much more.
Gazing deeper and deeper out into this vast blue Sea,
I can gather myself with this soul that was given to me.
Ripples in the Sea are all that my eyes can see.
One by one they collide with force to touch what was given to me.
Infinity with the depths of this Sea, 
This is what the Moonlit Ocean conveys to the truth inside of me.
Standing alone and afar from the depths of this Sea,
Ripple by ripple captures the every breath that I have inside of me.
Oh how they carry every single thought away from the insides of me!
Reflections of our Moon spread across this glimmering Sea.
Endless and endless ripples!
This vision I know I will forever see!
I hold my breath and carry a true smile, 
Searching for that last ripple to reach its hundredth mile.
Alone I stand at the edge of this Sea, 
The depth of this Ocean covers over me.
I wonder and wonder can I truly hold what was given to me?
So if ever in search for that which you know you believe,
Please remember that I left me standing with the ripples in the Sea.
One by one they collide crashing directly into me.
I stand with a force that was given just for this person that lives inside of me.
Come to me! Please touch what is on the inside of me!
Feel what has been given just for the love of me!
So if ever in doubt for that which you truly know you believe,
Look deeper and deeper out into this incredible huge Sea.
The ripples one by one know you will believe.
They touch, they feel, they hear what is left standing out by the Sea,
And that my friend is the life that God had already chosen for the soul that lives inside of me.
 


Details | Sonnet | |

That's That

The Sun is on my horizon approaching this brand new day.
Ripples in the sea shatter my shimmering ultra-violet light.
Birds sing in the air and many more are on this same flight.
Rising high, the Sun makes rounds in its sweet special way.
 
Puffy white clouds are on the trail until they begin to stray.
Blue skies follow suite running off the wet darkened night.
Green grassy grounds are visions of a true God given sight.
Branches of trees wave at the Sun as if bitterly bent or fray.
 
Rising with the Sun and busy as a bee,
Up and on it I always rise just to shine!
It is all amazing just like being me!
That’s that and poof I’m all in line!

No really, I am telling you that’s that!
Now honestly who are you looking at?
 
 
®Registered: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Rhyme | |

Blossoms 1970's

Thought I'd like to try my hand
at poems ode's and prose
but my writing is not grand
nor speech much like a rose
 
all have heard of morning dew
and times etching of the sand
the old mans graying hairs not few
and the beauty of the land
 
Yes the flowers lovers bring their maids
with time do hang buds down
and the petals always land
eventually on the ground
 
The buds and babes of spring go forth
to find the summers heat
who with her inequities do scorch
all those who walk earths street
 
So although I've taken pen in hand
I've nothing much to say
for life has burned it's painful brand
in all the born today
 
Time does speak of baby's breath
that adorns the rose bouquet
fragile tender leaves of fern
decorate the lovers way
 
But grasp the flowers
tight in hand
there you'll find this way
thorns who under leaves do stand
were hidden all away
 
Life comes with precious dreams and truths
to be taken by your hand
and often times the real proof
lives beyond the old thorns brand
 
Sweeter than the roses
is the breath of Love
and it's own descending
comes down from above
 
Flowers of many kinds are there
Yet not beauty to compare
to the bud and blossom
the Tree of Love does wear

COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Haiku | |

Listening

an old ear tilted
listening to the wind
red hawk soars above


Details | Pastoral | |

A DAY AT THE BEACH

It's summer, It's hot 
and I'm praying It won't rain
on my way to the beach
riding the F train
I get to Coney Island 
and from the boardwalk I see the sand
looking out towards the ocean
on the beach I now stand

a day at the beach
I can hardly wait
to sit under the rays of the sun
and play in the waves
I lay down my  blanket
and set-up my umbrella stand
I place my cooler of goodies
firmly in that sand
I slather on the sun blocker
for I need protection
I stand at the water's edge
at look down at my reflection

a day at the beach
frolicking in the ocean's waves
a memory form childhood
that I will treasure and save


Details | Haiku | |

Rivers only leave

   Ruled by time and tide
never to return again
   Rivers only leave


Details | Haiku | |

'Robust Leaves' (Haiku # 3)

‘ Robust Leaves ’  Haiku # 3

Red, Gold, Yellow, Brown
Orange … Break and Blow-Around
Robust Leaves, Fall Down



(Hey folks... Can You Say Ornje (Smile)


Details | Rhyme | |

The Cigar Box

I have a cigar box with corners
frayed and lid barely holding on.

Its contents being small things I've 
made and objects that I've found.

An odd-shaped rock, a marble, a feather,
are three of many that lasted well.

But the little objects are no better
than the stories they could tell.

I held these things so precious once
when I was a wide-eyed boy.

Now in my hand this timeless bunch 
of memories bring me joy.

I lay the treasures cross the table
to see what I once had found.

I conclude that tomorrow if I'm able
I'll walk and search the ground.

Somewhere in that old creek bed 
or on the side of the grassy hill,

memories are no longer dead
and find them I surely will.   

Something lying there since time began,
hidden so none before could see.

But now as if somehow planned,
it would be given just to me.

The creases corner my eyes today
as I've far from weathered well.

The box's edges also appear that way
but we both have stories still to tell.

I am weathered so like this old box
and both of us remember when

we found the feather and the rock
with their stories locked within.

Regardless how worn we may seem,
the box and I contain the past.

Beyond aged exteriors lies the dream,
that memories do not die but last.


Details | Haiku | |

Old Man Winter

top of old smokey
covered with frost - when bow breaks
old man winter blows


Details | Personification | |

Royalties Demise

Paper crisp, dead brown, leaves
cluster between the straggly vines. 
The potted purple petunias valiantly
hold their final blooms, alive and regal
within death’s grip, refusing to surrender.


Details | I do not know? | |

Passage

                 
           Day has passed ,night is soundless as death and dormant peace
                                                 night darkness, secret keep
                                   morning calm spring ends summer begins
                                                    seasonal colors blend  

                                Solar rays tans my flesh red as desert clay
                                                   in the same summer light 
                                     where lilies blossom and jaybirds play

                                   Desert summer...feverish sweat and thirst
                                     long walk home my regret never worse
                        passing vineyard meadows ,sun setting in the west
                                      with nature's sustenance I'm blessed
                                Bittersweet saliva ...enjoying summer's reap
                                               night returns...sunburn relief
                           the day's journey ends ,new wisdom I shall keep
                     until tomorrow's journey when the sun rises in the east


Details | Narrative | |

The Great White Shield

Held prisoner under His Stars, 
I have fallen under the shadows of THE “Great White Shield”.
At a distance, those shimmering lights covered over me.
Built on THE highest plains, I stand parallel even when His rains come down.
My wall stands tall as my fate is promised and sealed.
I see my passage through time as I hold sturdy to my only God given ground.
I am all that I know I can ever be.
Confined by a little world where all that there is has been lost or found,
My bleeding wall holds my “ ALMIGHTY’S Great Armored White Shield“.
Balanced with time even when His rains are pouring down!
It stands to serve and to protect the best of the living me.
Layer by layer it builds with the strength it has lost or found.
For, I am all that is genuinely real.
Conditioned by my endurance, His Stars my eyes still can see.
Ruling the way that I move, His existence is wrapped tightly and I abound.
Parallel on His plains, a sturdy wall I did gradually help Him build.
My wall protects the only person inside of me.
I secure my only ground as I hold onto His “Great White Shield”.
I am all that I have ever truly found.
When the rains pour down on me, 
I stand atop of all His battled ground.
When I am all with my realest deal,
I am all that can or will be found.
When I am all that I know I can ever be,
I carry a strength that alone I can build.
I am the carrier of my Almighty’s Great White Shield”.


®Registered: 1998  Ann Rich


Details | I do not know? | |

In the Dark

Whispers by a wandering brook
their speakers shrouded by mist
somewhere within the shadowed fog
they hide 
laughing
in time 
with the brook
luring me
so I’ll follow their call
and venture
far from the path
till I lose my way in the dark.

Songs sung by rustling golden leaves
screen their singers from view
behind autumn foliage 
they snicker
a sweet tinkling on the breeze
snaring me in their well made net
Till I see with growing 
sorrow
that the woodland path is gone: 
I’ve lost my way in the dark.


Silence in the silver moonbeams
illuminates their figures with light
around us sits the mist
caressing the golden leaves
obscuring
the world
from view.
A peal of bell like giggling
breaks into the dark.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Night

Oh night so quiet, 
Calm and serene
With stars that shine
And your air smells clean

You draw me out 
Beneath your sky
To sit and ponder
The long days why

As I sit there thinking
Of moments past
You're the one thing that
Brings peace at last

Oh night so quiet,
with a calming peace
Your the hot milk and honey
before my sleep


Details | Epic | |

Paradiami

I once stood alongside two Eagles pure graded in breast plated armor.
The one to my left I set free to love my innocent little white doves.
And the one to my right I dared to never leave my sight with little ole Pallor.
I left to spread the Eagle’s wings of merit soaring from far away and up above.

My Four horsemen flew on chariot wings with my four Golden Cups of Charis.
I stood up on the clouds and organized my Swordsey’s divine little palace.
The rainbows were blossoming around thrones of my precious manipulating Chaos.
I took two wings from the Eagle’s nest and kept them from falling completely off.
Then there was my balancing Scaler, behind his little trot there’s this forget me not.

I went further down and made myself quite the Amazing little conductor.
To the left of that shall be the Shadows of Webber’s with his dynamic dual detector.
To the right of this shall be the Beamers to Visor’s ultimate fine tuned selector.
Then I shall weld my shields for Justice with Timers s incredible invincible reflectors.
In the center of all of this my Blotcher’s shall send Dejavu’s to my blinding receptors. 

When my signals blare I’ll see Sweeper with Creeper and Snickers all on one perfect flight.
That’s when I will look up to the one to my left and the one to my right.
Then the Stars will gleam and flicker as I shatter both you Eagle’s with my true light.
Then you Eagles will know Paradiami is soul mated to love’s faithful glorious might!
 


Details | Free verse | |

NOSTALGIA

Idyllic memoirs of my boyhood days
I have lost into thorny hedges of my
native village where now
sprawl of concrete
jungle stands.

Hedgehogs, hares and squirrels
no longer scurry through the
fallow fields and the packs
of wolves which used to roam
unhindered on grassy lands
have been hounded into
extinction by rude rattle of trucks

I still grope for the herb with
which my father used to cure eczema
and I am at loss to spot the creepers
that purges toxins through diueresis
How can I revisit that lost pastoral
village which I left a decade
ago to settle in town?


Details | Personification | |

Sometimes

Where do we go when we go away?
Where do I go when I want to stay?
Sometimes I am lost and I can not see.
“God”, I look up and all I can do is pray.
Sometimes it is hard for me to even believe.
And then sometimes you set me so free!
Why does it have to be this way?
What is it that you need for me to say?
Sometimes I run free with the night.
“God”, I look around and I find my prey.
Sometimes I can see the crystal clear light.
And then sometimes I enhance my very own fight.

What mountain do you need for me to climb?
Where am I destined in this blessed and holy time?
Sometimes heaven is right at my front door.
“God”, I look down and even I can draw the line.
Sometimes I push for your all or more.
And then sometimes I am my own warrior.
Why do I balance these things with you?
What is it that you need for me to do?
Sometimes I just wonder why.
“God”, I am looking all around simply passing through.
Sometimes I am just tired and want to sit down for a cry.
And then sometimes I know that I have always been the one that tried.


© Copyright: 1997  Ann Rich


Details | Imagism | |

Lost in Blue

Damp energy descends
from skyline prophecies
an irresistible souvenir
laced with infatuation
the gentle, yellow moans
the way they mirror
streetlights and flies
the friction of blue moons

By Glenn McCrary

© 2012 Glenn McCrary (All rights reserved)


Details | Free verse | |

Night Sounds / Night Thoughts

Endless train whistles,
At the limits of one's hearing,
Never farther away,
Seemingly never, ever nearing...

Sirens shrill screech,
At times of their own choosing,
The pulse of mountain winds,
Never gaining, never losing,

Honking winged geese,
A satire of city cabs?,
In cloud bound nature's streets,
Small planes coming and going,
In a parade of me wondering,
but, never knowing,
Where they might have come from,
And where they now are going...

Abandoned homes,
Abandoned dreams,
Stars sparkle in a
mockery of fate,
Who was the last to leave that home?
And what might have been the date?

Will bears soon be wandering
down city streets,
Perhaps shopping for a new coat?
Wild dogs in packs attacking anything?
The bray of feeding goats?

My silent snores go unappreciated now,
There's no one to say "Good Night",
The body aches, my will it strains,
I have no one to share my pains...

Empty pockets stress my hope,
It takes all my will to cope,
Where has everybody gone to?
Has everyone gone to the moon?
I await my turn to join them,
I pray it will be coming soon...

Or am I left here to guard the past?
For me to be the very last?
To witness what the fates have cast?
To experience decay first hand,
Through the hour glass's ebbing sand,
How pointless time does then stand,
Not like a full head of hair..
But a single, lone strand?

Me, the lone keeper of times no more,
As giant machines still hum busily,
No one now to know their purposes,
now or then for sure....

And now you must go too...
I wonder, I wonder,
What I will do?
Alone, books and ink,
My sole companions till
my ship does finally sink?
I eye the rifle in the corner...
Maybe the rules God will bend...
If I use it as my ticket to tranquility,
For, at least, my pain to end?

Yes, at its worst,
No more pain...
Sure it is forbidden,
But reasons to live seem to drain...
No one to say Goodnight to,
No one to say Good Morn...
No one to hear me question...
Why I was ever born...

To those who complain of pressures,
Of work, of family....
Could sit in my chair,
eyes opened...
And see what I can see...
I'd work 24 hours a day,
7 days a week,
And enjoy every responsibility,
To care for friends and family...
& work 60 hours a week,
& feel the difference,
Paycheck but a bonus,
And, see
& gain a new point of reference,
And from that very day,
You'll see the value of your life,
In a very, very, new way.





Details | Free verse | |

Who wants to be immortal?

Like a phoenix
you tumble, hurt, and renew;
you grow old and grey
and yet you live through.

As you watch those around you
slowly pass on,
your children, grandchildren;
yet still you're not done.

Technology booms,
the world grows much faster,
through wars and starvation;
watch weather's disaster.

Would you really want
to live through it all?
To be historic relic,
and be immortal?

I wouldn't.


Details | Personification | |

Angels of Mercy

I‘ve an Angel of Mercy watching over me,
His eyes are watching me from sea to sea.

Staggeringly, I did stand there and I waited for only one who really knew.
Balanced by shining Stars, the universe earned my golden wings of two.

I fly high above from worlds torn apart by a magnificent set of three.
Cast down to Earth the galaxies spread far and apart just to be free.
We watch and we sit as we wonder when will all of this be?
Angels of Mercy balance the scales of lighter years that shall come to be.
I rise above Seas and Skies that can not set a boundary high enough for me.          .

Scattered by harvested seeds delusions are sent plentifully my way,
Up and down I am this way this day and I shall make my own way.

You feel, you see, but you can not believe that it is me, the pure and true one.
Angels of Mercy hear my plea, for I believe and soon I will be forever done!

Flying here and flying over there,
Only you know how much I truly care.
Angels of Mercy be on your merry way!

Me and mine will peacefully war with every single one of you,						
Eternally conquering exactly what I as one have set out to do!         


®Registered:   Ann Rich   2004


Details | Lyric | |

Just Beyond the City Limits

Along an old country path,
Where carriages used to pull their goods
To out-of-town places -
Where grass grows down the centre line;
I walk along the memory looking into faded mist;
Not sure where the road leads -
Like a future yet to be unfolded,
When the spirit of the country comes to greet me 
In it’s greying grace and beauty. 
She gallops just beyond the haunting ridge -
Pure freedom bellows from her lips,
As she dances with the tall grass in a graceful gait,
Into the misty past just beyond the makeshift fence,
As crickets gently play their fiddles.
A sweetbread wind caresses my nostrils,
Bringing me to a stand-still -
I close my eyes and feel the essence all around me;
The wind rustles the tall grass in the field,
So many crickets - playing their tune,
A humble love fills me to over-flowing
And I find myself crying for the rest of us,
Who pine for a life worth living in the city streets -
Desperate to live up to unrealistic goals;
When just beyond the city limits -
Is a place of humble beauty and tradition
A tradition we now seriously lack.
Our roots, our earth, our humanity;
Waits for us where grass grows down the centre line.


Details | Pastoral | |

CHILTERN CHILDHOOD

Beechwoods,downland and common heath,
Chalky soil inches beneath;
Trees,jostling tall,
Leaf,yellow-brown in Autumn,fall;
Fallow deer feed at dawn and dusk,
Treading flat the beechnut husk;
Open heath,sandy soiled,
Whence commoners once toiled;
Roedeer,muntjac proliferate
As Nature reverts and liberates;
Winding brooks and narrow streams,
In mingled,muddled childhood dreams.


Details | Narrative | |

Journey

Silent as night's presence with ancient peace I'm blessed
summertime,burning heat magnified stress
my brained tamed by '60s narcotic dreams
the key to time capsule memories

Spiritual void,trading city noise for quiet flowering plains and blue grass 
meadows lost in floral pedal 
camoflouge I detour and dodge its poison ivy
climbing lively
rolling hills where time kept still

Deaf silence night's present...nature's dharmic lessons

Concealed knee deep in verdant poppy fields 
and narcotic flowers...many kinds
where ripe orchards soured into wine
patient curiosity filled passing time

Slow night,poppies bloomed in pearl china moonlight
Pale stars cast broke through black overcast 
New visions...brief surreal psycotic doom
Spent day watching narcotic flowers bloom
gathering flowers for keeps
my hunger cured by an orchard's reap
until twilight stars littered summer's night far from home
tomorrow's journey...unknown


  


Details | Haiku | |

Mulberry Tree

Long berries droop high
Above the ditch made sweet with
Grainy edibles.


Details | Haiku | |

Nostalgia

sparkling water of
a pristine stream rushing thru
to my summer dreams


Details | Free verse | |

Black Rose

I continue to find myself in a pensive state of mind.
Giving time more time.
Even worse, i'm wasting time thinking of the time I've wasted.
Letting thoughts untwine reminessing of the passions tasted.

Here I stand a man with no set destination.
No guides no plan , no helping hand.
Just heroes for who I show admiration.

Just another try to ignite the spark, to set the blaze so I can with stand the fire.
Just another chance to form iron from this ire.

All these thoughts that have been written down left unread.
So hard to forget the words never spoken.
How easy it is to admire the lies that are so token.
How delightful it is that hearts gravitate towards another when broken.

These forms and ideas together they untwine.
How each dark thought sprouts in the night.
How the black rose blooms in the lack of light.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Farewell to Summer

A hint of wood smoke in the air
Mornings chill, days are fair
Only a few weeks ago
Hazy and hot humidity the foe
To keep cool what did you do
Walk the beach or dip in the pool

To fill your summer memories book
Will you often think of the walks you took
Hiking, sailing whatever the sport
Or maybe some tennis on the court
Cookouts, clambakes with family and friends
Some of those days were as gems

Maybe baseball was more your pace
Or watching the America Cup Race
A friendly place was the ocean
Now it's full of angry motion
Soon breakers will crash the shore
Where gentle wavelets lapped before

Remember again those summer days
When Spring seems so far away
Flowers slumber in their beds
While leaves turn to gold and reds
Indian Summer the final farewell
Before Winter covers valleys and dells


Details | Ode | |

BAIANO

In the lovely Campanian countryside, amid
verdant hills and mountains...where Virgil
stopped to rest,while jeourneying to visit Cybele's temple, 
lie a fertile valley where chestnut and walnut trees
abound...there is hidden the bustling town of my birth!
Narrow streets overlooked by bell towers,
and whenever the sturdy bronze bells ring 
in the fragrant air of early spring:
young and old from windows and balconies, 
in the twelfth hour, engage
in the sweet thanksgiving prayer...
while the tricolor flags sway in the warmest breeze!   

The town's friendly people will welcome you with song,
untill you feel wonderful and touched by all;  
this town has seen invasion, pestilences and a dire year... 
an almost fatal hurricane that prevented a fierce battle
from being fought during World War II;
was Divine Intervention a factor to be acknowledged?
It spared this town being bombarded by air,
and it saved my mother's life to tell this truth!

God blessed this unknown place,
and sent Mary with the infant  Jesus,
four days after He was born,
on a long jeourney through that valley
filled with peace and beauty:
to find a revered and holy mountain...
much closer to Heaven!
And She shed many tears
to give all the dull flowers
a brilliance of their own!

Deep in the hills there was a very special place I choose,
where I would rever the magnificence of the valley...
revealing a superb panorama with the Vesuvius in sight,
was there another creation as magnificent as that ?
And that owesome view perked up my inspiration inside,
teaching my  tiny fingers to write with a human heart!
O Baiano, don't strip this name from your walls and stones:
I am a forgotten native who will return before he'll die!





Details | I do not know? | |

Sitting on My Hill

Green of Pastures
Purple in the fields
Autumn late
I contemplate

Sitting on my Hill

The bluest sky
Almond leaf
Whistling bill
Nature is still

Sitting on my Hill

Mother,child
Father,bat
Playing ball
While I sat

Sitting on my Hill

Afternoon Sun
Poet looking wide
Writing in his book
Words he cannot hide
and one more time..

Sitting quietly upon this Hill



Details | Free verse | |

Ah Dudley

Dudley, how did you bat today?
Did you hit the wooden ball with rubber wrapped
Over the starapple tree and far away?
Did you ride your bicycle past Knoxwood gate
Smell the cashew blossom and think of me?
Ah Dudley, what did you do today?

Did you cut sticks in the coffee orchard
And make as old the Calaban?
Did you go seven acres and check the swift beside the well?
Do they still grow peanuts there
And do the women and children come to pick
Where I toiled all day and earned nothing for it?
O Dudley, what did you do today?

Do the girls still come at night
For your company to the well? And is there
A long train of youngsters with buckets on their head?
Can they dance like Melveta or Ver, the cotta still in place
And will they gather when its done, to play ring games
While our elders from the fireside watch
The corns so that they will not burn? Can you smell the cashew fat
Oh Dudley, what did you do today?

I want to come again and see
Lime-kiln blazing up to heaven, its rainbow colors
Like a boy's first joy bursting in delirium. I want to touch
My Benbow's head, and quiet his bark from happiness
And hide in the moonshine guinea grass
Where no one finds me, though I pant
The one desired would come. I want to sing
The old folk songs and run and scream ...
Dudley, will these things be there if I come?

Did you climb the breadfruit tree
Or make a gig, or swam in Cecil's marl hole again
Can you still fight fearlessly
Will injustice against your boyhood passion win?
We have a great country, and a great home too
St. Elizabeth, land of the big long river, and the tall bambo
Dudley, I pine for it, please if needs be, die only for it
But live again for the beauty there.


Details | Haiku | |

Tidal sands

Water rushes, sweeps.
Tide enfolds as ground moves round.

Feet engulfed. Swallowed.


Details | Free verse | |

Sunset Dinner

[///
I would tell him, 
but he hunkered 
down in his bunker, 
debriefing
with one-thousand-caliber cans of beer.
He rationed himself,
confidentially,
to every Bud.
Every friend
poured from their head-wound
deafening - distinctive - gurgles.
	                               ///]


(…
I dine at a wide clay table -
face the gold-red wall.
I serve myself a setting yolk -
season it with salt.
I eat my meal, and quickly-
forbid the air its warmth.
I stuff myself with sunset;
starved in bed, I bawl
as dusk, so kind, wraps leftovers
for tomorrow evening’s gall
                                         …)


He (like the day) has set;
sunsets taste – different –


Details | Free verse | |

Breadth

He has gone forth
and traversed the paths of the world
and sought out those things
the desires                         of his soul
 
to see the majesty of the land
         the work of those who labor
                  in their daily struggles 
who walk                    in flame              and in pain
 
and to preserve those things
in song           and moving pictures
so that others might
                            see as he sees
who can turn his course
his feet are firm set
 
                                 his focus is fixed
and he has stayed true to his path
                  who can move his heart
 
He understands himself
can another see him 
 
His fire smolders                   It is in his control
            His power is his own
 
a richly landscaped mind
                  the possibilities are endless
the depth and breath of him 
                  is ceasless and endearing
My heart aches to explore him
                                  and mine the vastness of his mind
its expanse is awesome   a lifetime to reach into
 
all his nooks and crannies
 
                      May the sun rise
and shine upon all you do that is true
                      May you know that you
                       have brought beauty into my soul
and touched my heart
                       tenderness fills it
the only man who has moved me
from myself     my own circumspection
         to look upon his
 
no scriptures for this as its simply reflections
 
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Narrative | |

Thought

I thought I would stop thinking.
Not until I was gripped in thinking.
Thinking of what I have thought,
i lost counts in memories.
Therein I remembered,
The fear of thoughts is the beginning of thinking.
But, why should I stop thinking?
When thought emerge without thinking,
and thinking springs from thoughts.
To think is human, to stop is death.
When I stop thinking, and then check my body,
Check my pulse, check my heart and thoughts.
Check my life may be checking my soul.
Either flying or in a gathering to commune in heavens
Associating with Angels,
Angels on guard.


Details | Couplet | |

CRYSTALLINE #5

Shrieks of seagulls die on the breeze;
Childhood ebbs away on sunlit seas.


Details | Free verse | |

THE BOY FROM CAMPANIA

Has anyone ever seen the fertile Felix Ager,
which the Romans called, " The happy land?
Along the astonishing coastline are found:
the odorous lemon, orange and pine trees
that overlook the limpid and calm Tyrrean sea!
Feel the warmest breeze and breath the freshest air!


I was the boy from Campania, vibrant and restless,
exploring landscapes and valleys...climbing cliffs;
I wasn't born to be a poet, but I became one by the presence of beauty!
Lay down on a lustrous meadow and wait for the breath-taking sunset:
you'll see creation unfolding itself under brush's strokes of the Masters! 
How can anyone not be impressed and moved by such a majesty!
 

I will lead you by hand to all the places you have never seen:
to hills and mounts towered by picturesque towns with fortresses and castles;
Naples,Amalfi,Sorrento,Positano,Ischia,Capri and Gaeta are the jewels of this pristine sea!
Take that long journey with me:  you'll be utterly breathless, 
and appreciate Nature with a keener understanding and dwell here like others did!
Drink the sparkling water of the purest springs and eat the fruits of my amazing land!



Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | I do not know? | |

PAIN

Pain so deep,
It cuts as it reaps.
It plays for keeps.
I sip from the haunted cup of emotion that leaves remnants on my lip
And back I’ve slashed with a cutting whip.
Feel my heart rip!
I paid as deathly as love laid.
So many peircings my tears made,
I fade!
I lashed out with a jagged blade.
Blood spilled over white sheets stained with shame.
This is how the red plague came.
Why does red pain rain?
Poison will profane!


Details | Sonnet | |

That's That!

The Sun is on the horizon approaching this brand new day,
Ripples in the water and they shimmer incredibly bright,
A bird sings in the air and many more are on the same flight!
Rising high the Sun makes its rounds in a very special way.
 
Puffy white clouds are on the trail until they begin to stray.
Blue skies follow suite running off the darkened night.
Green grassy grounds are visions of a true God given sight.
Branches of trees wave at the Sun as if they want to play.
 
Rising with the Sun and busy as a bee,
Rise and shine!
It’s amazing just like me!
That’s that and it’s all in line!

That’s that!
And newer days we are all looking at!
 
 
© Copyright Ann Rich   2006


Details | Narrative | |

The Burning Veil

My eyes were opened to a bright red burning veil.
Sun scorched and Moon dried,
It was fried!
But, I brought it some water in a crystal blue pale.
The more it burned higher went the scale,
God knows that I at least tried.
There was just nowhere to hide.
But, I wasn’t about to fail.
 
I put the veil in the water and made it wet.
I held it to the Sun and the Moon to air dry.
The veil melted and glowed where it was set.
It was sparkling and made me want to cry.
Perception had been weakened to what it really should be.
At least, that’s what the burning veil conveyed to the truth inside of me!
 


Details | Light Poetry | |

Night - Nature

I Walked in the Woods, on a Moonlit path
As Fireflies gathered around to Dance
And Crickets and a Nightingale Chirped a Tune
As a Distant Wolf, Howls at the Moon

And a Glow-Eyed Owl, Territorially Asked Who-o-o- !
dares Invade and Interrupts Our Hullabaloo ?
and the Leaves on the Oaks, Rustled an Answer
across the Sky… and Wind Breezily Whispered…

… Must Be A Night Creature
Who Cannot Sleep
Must Have A Night-Nature
And Ventures Deep …
Into The Nightshade and Hollyhocks
Her Eyes, like Two Nimbus, Shimmery-Spots…

… Now, The Path lay close, to a Bubbling Stream
Which led to a Pool, of a Mirror-Sheen
Denizens of the Dark, Grouped Near the Obsidian-Ink
… in Hushed Agreement, as I Knelt To Drink…

… Must Be A Night Creature
She Drinks at Leisure
Must Have A Night-Nature
Look At Her Stature…
Intrepid-Instinct, Even Blasé- Imbued
Even in Silhouette- Shadows and Solitude…

… And, as I Stroll Back, the Way I Came
The Mysterious-Darkness Asked:  “Had I Ever Been Tame?...”
I Raised My Face, Replied, “Yes… Under God’s Hand…
… And as I Stepped into the Tent... added… “And That Of My Man's”…

… Must Be A Night Creature
Hunting Treasure
Must Have A Night-Nature
Hunting Pleasure…
… in The Measure of His Sweet Kissed-Reaction
In The Measure of My Own, Night-Predator Passion…


Details | Free verse | |

ULYSSES

ULYSSES

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell. 1

Cross legged I await 
Heavens beams, to embrace
to bundle to lash with twine
	drifting wood 
While the waves whip the beache's grace

I hold the smooth forked roots in hand 
Roots in time can break stone 
and mold it like the water is able 
Water that feeds the root 
Sun that feeds the fingers

I ask not much old sea
Dashing dead against stones
Barnacles tear at flesh and vessel
low birds impale the shell
to eat salty flesh

Everything and nothing is water
Eternal yet fleeting
Comforting yet cold
Supportive yet unwieldy
Reflective yet transparent
Hungry yet quenchless

Ye oldest mare 
whose rising breasts swell
and hungry opens cavernous
to consume both breast and beam
 
Her victims wash about my feet

Ripen, swell abreast
resign this earth

Death who she knows best
who winged I've seen
who in decay keeps fertile, she
who drinks endless of streams immortal

I await her sea-nymphs call for me
Though I alone shall not quell
her endless thirst, 
	when half submersed.
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell

Deus pasit corvos*


Tempest 1. 2   (1)
God feeds the ravens*


Finishing Line Press.  Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com


Details | Sonnet | |

Tid Bits

Great God Almighty, I took you throughout this heartland. 

It was oops, uh oh and Jesus Christ all of the way we went. 

I shewed or I spewed those great mightier and all you sent. 

Created and destroyed were all of those left held in a hand. 

  

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust we left them all in your sand. 

My, me oh my revelations came shining through in time lent. 

They ran to and fro with dim lights that were warped or bent. 

I gave and I saved for this that and the other for a high brand. 

  

I went all the way up and all the way down. 

Beside myself I turned life and death to me. 

I found a medium so I stood on my ground. 

I tell you today I do shine sea to shining sea. 

  

They all left and tossed their chips calling it quits. 

But I my Sir have it all here and there in Tid-Bits! 


Details | Lyric | |

Waiting for the Wind

Sitting in the morning just waking up on my side of the world today
I turn on the news see if anyone has anything good to say
Stock markets falling and another landslide while the politicians try to deny
Global warming and more killer storms and another thousand people die
and the advertiser says I’d be happy if I bought bigger car you know
I’ve got my sails out...and I’m waiting for the winds to blow
I got my sails out...and I’m waiting for the winds to blow.


Sometimes I think the world’s gone mad and I can’t stand to hear the pain
One place burning in holy fire and another in a deluge of rain
Sometimes I think that hatred and war is the only way we know how to be
And I want to sail away,..in a world made for you and me
Sometimes I wonder at the pace of it all, where’s everybody trying to go
I got my sails out...and I’m waiting for the winds to blow.
I got my sails out...and I’m waiting for the winds to blow.


Why can’t we see the beauty of it all in the sun rising every day
Life holding on to the sides of mountains and the waters rushing into the bay
Why can’t we live as if nothing on earth mattered more that the love that we bring
I want to sail away,.. and become part of everything
Why can’t we care just a little bit more, maybe let a little kindness show
I got my sails out...and I’m waiting for the winds to blow.
I got my sails out...and I’m waiting for the winds to blow.


Details | Ballad | |

A MOON ADORNED WITH DREAMS

A childhood lived apart
from the usual existence,
made innocence more intense;
watching raindrops
from unclosed windows...
while welcoming a shivering skylark!

A moon adorned with dreams
gleamed over shadowy hills,
taking me to their forbidden realm;
and as my little arm stretched out
to reach it...the further it seemed
to move deeply into space,
arousing my curiousity
and making me aware of infinity,
of which I measured no distance...
to avoid controversy and doubt!

An entire adulhood being
the jack-of-all-trades, never having
enough time to stop and stare
at a moon adorned with dreams,
whose smile was as alluring as its glare...
with the intention to deceive!

A moon adorned with dreams
arouses my old emotions...
drawing me to its extraordinary charms;
somehow relieving my unspoken grief,
which is as irresolute as of  my belief! 
Its face so dotted and pale
shouldn't be so plausible,
or nevertheless graceful,
but it constantly changes like me...
to find its destined place in eternity!




Details | Crystalline | |

Crystalline 2

Sunrise ripples across the lake
memories surface as I awake


Details | Narrative | |

Docked by Time

Celebrating the glare that glows,
A reflection of you creeps in.
The glory of high rank again!
Somebody you do not know,
But a sacrifice all the same!
Docked by time with a name!
Riding the high tides,
A fear of you sets in.
The smile of pride again,
Somebody you hide,
But a sacrifice all the same!
Docked by time playing the game!
Laughter with the fame you claim,
The sound of you drifts in,
The look of confidence seen again,
Somebody you remain.
But a sacrifice all the same!
Docked by time is such a shame!


®Registered: Ann Rich 1998


Details | Narrative | |

The Visions Blend

Sitting all alone in deep thought, I am a world away.
No Sun, no Stars, and no wind!
My mouth can not speak the words there are to say.
The visions blend carries me to where it never ends.
My God I am here and I demand to stay!
I am here, but gone to where I begin.
Nights and days have come and gone and are now decades away.
No life, no air, and no death!
My God I am alive and dead on this very day.
I am gone, but here with my journey’s quest.
The gift of life is mine as I catch my last breath.
My heart can not hold the words there are to say.
Looking deep into this world where I have come to stay,
No love, no hate, and no sin!
The visions blend carries me to where it all ends.
I am here, but gone to where I begin.
My eyes can see the words there are to say.
My God I am gone and I demand to stay.
Time and time my thoughts have traveled my days,
No time, no light, and no pretend!
The gift of life is mine all over once again.
My God I am dead but alive on this very day.
My ears can not hear the words there are to say.
I am gone, but here absorbing the visions blend.

®Registered: Ann Rich 1997


Details | Free verse | |

Don't leave it too late

Rekindle the laughter,
blood, tears and sweat.
Live life 'till it's full,
no regrets left...


Details | Rhyme | |

Violin

Where sleeps upon the shelf his violin
that in past with mournful tone he plucked
who woo'd a maiden fair and shaped within
the aria upon which ears had wanton supped
 
For now that hollow wood become an empty thing
and days her strings had sang so lovingly
its heart now dead because of loss of dream
and want of fingers who play now grudgingly
 
Silent now the bow and string so smoothly licked
and caught the graceful tones upon her played
time did take its toll on misery  sipped
where in past her elations joys has stayed
 
Gone now that audience who was his care
buried in the tomb with their mosses deep
the caress of the music they did share
where both now lay in their closets sleep
 
Twas grievous chords that last upon her sing
whose chorus stroked reception to the ground
since that place could not himself to bring
or bless that happy wood her joyful sound
 
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Haiku | |

Sunflower

Bloom sunflower bloom
Twist and turn your lovely face
Seek sun’s warm embrace.


Details | Free verse | |

Natural memories

Count the days in the garden.
Let love bloom all around.
Recognise the peace,
there is harmony in the sky.
With each and every leaf or bud -
new breath, a miracle.
Make memories unforgettable,
garnish them with thoughtful floral fragrance.
Add that loving laughter, those smiles.
Create that sense of magic,
and cherish natures dance.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Listen To The Wind and The Rain...

Listen to The Wind and The Rain
Playing Symphonies Again
With Muted-Base of Thunder
Raise The Window; Watch and Wonder

Listen to The Wind and The Rain
Crescendo – Clean and Rise – Refrain
A Rush of Lightning Rhapsody
Love-Struck A Chord… Deep in Me…

(Listen to The Wind and The Rain…)

Open Up  The Door !
I Want to Feel the Choir’s Full – Score
Wind and Rain – By Maestro’s Hand
Make Melody  to Woman and Man

(Listen to The Wind and The Rain…)

Listen to The Wind and The Rain
In This Lullaby, We have Lain
In Such Peaceful Harmony
Singing in  Love’s Key…

Listening to The Wind and The Rain...


Details | Personification | |

All in All

Riding in the winds of humbled inspiration,
I’m coming for a mighty restoration!
Stars so bright, lights increase by a great number.
The Moon leads the day its way.
Riding in much thunder,
Bolt by bolt, all in all it’s but a ray!
Soaring in clouds of separation,
I’m going for a mighty preparation!
Skies so blue, seashores engulfed by a great encumber.
The Sun bleeds the only ray.
Soaring in much wonder,
Beam by beam, all in all I’m on my way!
All in all, dashing through every ray!
All in all, I’m shining in the light of today!

® Registered: Ann Rich 2002


Details | Free verse | |

Last acts

How heat of sultry summer's eve consumes me.
Feisty bloody crimson glow ignites a flaming skyline;
dusk radiant decorates the golden amber melt.
Performance interrupted only by whistling voice.

Westward night cloud drifts, a gentle floaty dream.
A melody of feathered choirs gather - 
fatigued; vanishing into the moonlight to slumber.
Delightful promise of attractive sunrise.


Details | Haiku | |

HoneySuckles

Yellow, white blossoms
Along the barbed wire and posts-
Air drips with nectar


Details | Rhyme | |

Woodland Paradise

Let's walk beneath the oak trees, 
lie on the mossy ground.
The woods are where I love to be.
God's secret place that we have found.

It's nice to hear the scurrying
of the creature's busy day.
If you listen to the woods you'll find
they have oh so much to say.

The crunching of the dead leaves...
The trickling of the stream...
The calling of each animal...
This is the place of all my dreams.

I'd love to build a cabin
in this woodland paradise.
We could enjoy the simple things.
Oh, that would be so nice! 


Details | Lyric | |

One Heart, Two Lives

O, Pearl of the Orient! The island
Of the islands in the Far East---
How nostalgic 
The humming wind and the sea, the sunset
And the mountains, the rice fields and the people 
The Boleros and the Jeepneys
Don’t you worry, Inay, your beauty 
Is still within me

O, Athena! The babysitter 
Of my lonely soul 
I tiptoed, like a fog, into your beloved fortress 
And sit on the ruins 
Of your pasts, daydreaming
I, the poet, crowned with rhyme and verse
And well-adorned, with pearled barong 
From the islands of the sea



Details | Elegy | |

Living Without You


A garden, 
blooming 
and sea of 

beauties dancing in the smile of 

morn orb. The 
sexy posture of 
a rose 

stands afore, yet, her glow cannot

outshine 
the diamonds
rolling down 

on my cheeks, nor can solve 

the paradigm
of my day 
obscured— 

by your absence, my love!


Details | Free verse | |

Their Rendezvous

His intention was not to fall in love right away but then you came along.
You were not as bubbly as the other girls he met.
There was something different about her.
It was if he was destined to be with her.
She seemed to be on some kind of a mission.
He could see a faraway gaze in her eyes.
He wondered what she was thinking about.
She noticed him looking at her and said, "We are surrounded by splendor under the cherry 
blossom trees."
"I could stay with you here forever", he said.
Every year for the past six years, they came back to the same spot.
The familiar unrequited love has rekindling in them.
It seemed as if they never left at all.
Just before they left again, they promised to never forget their rendezvous. 


Details | Free verse | |

The Bridge

Bridges
Between our soul
And the soul of another
From one bank to another 
Connecting as one
Sturdy, with-standing the torrid wind and rain
Yet sometimes do they grow old and start to creek and sway
They bend as you walk across, giving only one piece so that you make it safely
When  a bridge collapses after years of watching the world around it change
We do loose a piece of our society
Of ourselves
The rusty color, the rotting wood
It was not always so
No, once it was new and shiny 
The wood still smelling of the thick forests from which it came
It stood proud and all applauded it
For it linked the two worlds together
But it grew heavy with vines and insects
The grand forest slowly creeps in on it
Taking it over like the ocean tides
The branches tangling with the old steel 
 The fallen leaves obscuring its view of the sun
The spiders weaving metallic webs in between the beams
Making the old warrior a graveyard for the prey of the fantastical huntresses
It looks down upon  its old friend the river and the stone
It moans about the abuses of the rough wheels of the new vehicles 
It complains to the turtles as they leisurely swim by about the new gravel left on 
the aging boards
Finally, its birth-date goes unseen and it is no more than a means of traveling to 
one bank and back again
It cries its rusty tears into the murky waters
And its pain is felt in the vibration of the new cars
Yes, it is forgotten
Unseen , except for the hawks that perch on its mighty head searching out prey
But it still stands noble as the day it was built
And it will still creak when you walk across it today


Details | Narrative | |

If Ever I Should Have to Wonder

If ever I had to wonder, 
I would simply wonder why our paths were even destined to cross.
Obviously, I have so many things I have to wonder, 
Because my love carries the strength of steel and an armor of cloth!
No doubt that I will think of the many things that could always make me sigh.
But I know that I’d forever wonder why so much pain comes with an inevitable loss?
“Tis a soul for a soul and one cast out with your solemn moment of pride”.

If ever I should have to wonder, 
Indeed I would have wondered where?

Where is the beginning and where is the end to this forsaken way of life?
Where does all this “hidden truth” lay and why is it that I’m still standing and I can survive?

No doubt that I will think of the many things that I could always compare,
But I know that I’d forever wonder how much warmth there really is out there to share.
Brought down from sorrows below my beliefs have become my sacrifice.

If ever I had to wonder, 
I’d simply wonder where?
Where do we go when we go away and why is it that we even have to leave?
Where is this truth and why should I be the only one that will produce my beliefs?

No doubt that I would think of the many things that could always make me instantly care.
But I know that I would forever wonder why there’s so much hope with all of this despair.
‘Tis a soul for a soul and each is in such a constant dire of eternal need”!

If ever I should have to wonder, 
I’d simply wonder why this was all even meant to be.

Why could you not see the power and the glory that God has invested in the life of me?
Obviously so many things to have to wonder because love carries so many will’s that fizzle 
and die.
No doubt that I would think of the many things that could always make me sad and cry.
But I know that I will forever wonder was it I, the one who has been received?
But most of all I will forever wonder what is it that you, as one, really believe?



© Copyright:  1998   Ann Rich


Details | Rhyme | |

STARLIGHT AND SHADOWS-- to tree-lovers

Out of the lacy leaves of the Maple tree,
A velvety, black shadow stood,
It reminded me of things as they used to be,
And other times when as  a child I was very good.

I love Maple trees with their emerald leaves,
Serrated and softly blowing in the breeze,
The starlight shining down on them,
Makes a long,black and white toothy grin.

I love the Oak trees and the Elms,
Tall and strong as though standing at the helm
Of a battle-scarred ship as it sailed through the yard,
And the captain cried "Ho! Captain of the guard!"

At night, my imagination runs rampant and wild,
Taking me back to when I was a child,
Making me wander through happier days,
When I dreamed of nursing-my heart was ablaze.

The shadows are spreading now, dawn will soon appear,
And for all of my friends here, I wish you good cheer.


Details | Lyric | |

LIVE IN THE MOMENT

Erase all the unrealistic images that appeared at night
from ever dream you ever dreamt;
let love become real, frantic and bright,
something erratic, not remembering where it went.  


Live in the moment,
and feel the warmth of each lovely sunray,
to make you feel alive,
but you should start today;
live in the moment,
without recalling how deep you sighed.


Forgive yourself for your selfishness,
open your window and welcome the sunlight;
before sadness was your friend on a lonely night,
now, happiness brings you kisses of tenderness.  


Live in the moment,
adventure awaits you in meadows of clovers,
in the fields of sunflowers, where lovers
find the solitude they need to explore desires;
live in moment,
and days will not turn into unpleasant memories.


Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Free verse | |

Flutterings

Slight of movement
minute flutterings
flicker over my stomach;
as imagination takes
on passing butterfly's wings.
It's the beginning of one very new.
An early geminal stage,
the foundations of something
so much bigger to come....
Rudimentary hiccups 
of one so slight.
Invisible behind my bump grows,
an immature being -
I've seen it 
at scan stage.
Underdeveloped,
a miracle -
all manmade.
My future,
my hopes,
my dreams.
My child.


Details | Haiku | |

Man in the Moon

A large face watched me
Bordered by shimmering trees
Along lit dirt roads.


Details | I do not know? | |

SEPTEMBER DAYS

September sadness, sweet and sour,      
A dagger piercing heart and soul.
Nostalgic flood tides rush to shore,
With tender memories of old.
                                   
Cicada swan songs wax and wane
In melancholy symphony.
Secluded crickets strum their harps
In monotonic harmony.
                                 
A carefree summer sounds retreat
Before the mellow, golden haze.
Autumn sadness fills our lives
With bitter sweet September days.


Details | Blank verse | |

Not Really Lonely

Around me loom awesome skyscrapers 
   that slice the skyline into smoggy 
      strips of vertical horizons.

Closing in on me, they gleam as colossal,
   hubristic trophies blotting out the last
      piece of the afternoon sky.

Benumbed by the din of this throbbing
   city, I sway to the commotion
      of motion in a sea of strangers.

In this hurrying horde of humanity, it seems
   to me each one seems so alone
      among so many, so like me.

But I joyfully get by, thanks to memories
   of the hushed swishing at the shoal
      back home by the shore,

The grassy edge of the lush foliage,
   the scent of the earth's warm breath
      after a drenching downpour,

The tranquility borne by the sunlit 
   mist that is warmly waking up 
      the still dreaming morn,

All these cool and coo and caress
   my savaged, sagging soul, and
      though alone, I'm not really lonely!


Details | Couplet | |

The Mixed-Rhymer


Tyburn and Diamante, the smarty and the glow, are now here
and they’re ready, perfectly ready, to be read by you my dear!

The wintry weather have mantled their innocent forms all day, 
and by the window they’re leaning on my last hope, their hooray.

I watch li’l Haiku, flowing, with orange flame in the evening wind, 
whilst the mystical orb lingers at the blue mountain---the fairies’ inn.

Dinner-fume is not floating-up yet, perhaps not today, from your kitchen,
so I, the mixed-rhymer, will do them the reading with pizzas in our hands.


Details | ABC | |

BLACKENED CROZIER

Let it remain
ovarian pure. After strangulating
the truth,
for hypoxic euphoria.

Flies in your face
the dirt,
the denial, the terracota
of superposition of speech
hiding self-interest.

Blackened crozier
for wrinkeled crotch
drops the ashes of love
on unopened buds.

Weeping willow sways
in warm winds of prayers.
Strawberry in holes
nothing like bruise.


 
SATISH VERMA


Details | Free verse | |

Sunset

Old gray heron 
wades knee deep
along ponds edge.
Feeding.
Fiery reflections dance
across still waters.
Bass leaps through
sunset.


Details | ABC | |

CLAUSES

Children of stink, cannot smell the rose.
Lithium in their blood
fathers were happy.

Power over the fire of groins,
was a music to ears.
Everything else was secondary.

The wishes squealed
on the mattresses.
Grief was served in the bed.

Big tears flowing
on the cheeks of ice.
Antarctica was crying.

Sexed up vendetta
did not kill a fly.
Bee was hovering over the heads.

I will expand till infinity.
Life will take care
of ferocious clauses.


SATISH VERMA


Details | I do not know? | |

Of Passion

When the sun's vibrance 
is brilliant,
Upon the petals of rose,
so fond.

Sparkling pads of lilly
sway, as gentle winds, 
billow across sullen ponds.

As a mother's nurturing bosom
procures, 
as sweet, 
venusian milk glistens,
for her infant's cries.

Sweet, 
like new lovers' 
aroused infatuations,
Entangled within 
their lustful lives. 

When romance's endeavors 
of passion
are left wilting amidst season.

Let us embark upon 
unfelt desires,
to sojourn anew,
for hidden reason.


Details | Free verse | |

Silk Beauty

Prosperities wings
flutter...

Enigmas ponder
beauty...

Silken winds
flowing...

whispering.


Details | Rhyme | |

Island Home

When I grow old and leave this world 
Within my eyes will be held 
The beauty of this Island home 
Where I have forever dwelled 

The lushness of evergreen trees
And salt upon the endless sea 
Of craggy rocks forged by time 
The only place I wish to ever be

Quaint salt and pepper houses 
Gaily coloured in rainbows hues 
Reflected in the mighty sea 
Of the most amazing blues 

Of sailors weathered smiles 
On the windswept hardened land 
Such wondrous beauty to unfold 
As sea rolls upon golden sand 

Where whales swim nonchalantly 
Between brightly coloured dories 
And seagulls soar the heavenly skies 
Amid pillowy clouds of glory

People so open and friendly 
Wave a very warm hello
Friends and loved ones sadly missed
More than anyone could ever know 

To leave this place forever 
Will tear away my soul 
For I know that I will leave it 
When I grow very old 

Some people dream of heaven 
The great expanse above 
I simply dream of my island home 
That I have come to love 

For its taste and feel fill me 
And no matter where I end up to dwell 
I will never, ever forget 
Its salty, welcoming smell

Its beauty is a part of me 
Tranquil and at peace 
My island home in the sea 
Is my sweet release!


Details | Ode | |

A Painted Prose


Robin, 
like last leaf 
of autumn,

clings 
to a velvet 
rose.  Ah, 

such a lovely 
scene, from painted 
prose of God, 

the Unseen- 
of which thru his artwork 
reminded me of 

a child 
holding sweet mama, 
‘til he was being 

breezed away 
into manhood, by the thrilling 
wings of her olden days.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Pied Pipers Calling

In less than a year,
or seventy hence
I will wander the road which you now take.

Now the path is wild and overgrown---and I cannot pass, but in time, for me, the pied 
piper will be piping,
as for you, he is piping now.

Beckoning with fall colors
and singing of children lost. 


Details | Narrative | |

IN MY YOUNGER YEARS

Everything was so spontaneous 
and beautiful in my younger years;
a young heart reaching out to adventurous dreams,
making them as real as his imagined schemes!

Climbing a grassy hill,
pushing forward to reach mountains,
and discover hidden treasures
that lay in darkness for centuries;
frescos of saints in spacious caves,
a statue of an Archangel
guarding the dusty altar
as he thrusted His long spear
into the woeful Devil!!

Spring was a stunning sight of fireflies,
so incrediblly cheerful and thrilling,
when the impetuous wind
scattered the small white flowers
of a clustered viburnum
over the acient town of Baianum...
where I spent my younger years,
cherishing the liveliness of adolescence!

Coming down steep cliffs
towards early evening...
when the sunset was ablaze,
serenity was never felt so deeply;
and as weary as the canary's song would be,
it prompted me to sing!  

In my younger years,
all those days weren't a passage through brevity...
they lingered on like they were enraptured by eternity;
If  I had foreseen the misery of my misfortunes...
I wouldn't enunciate the loss of their affinity,
or the vitality of my unrelenting footsteps:
when I crossed,so unhastly,
 that magnificent land called, " Italy! "


Details | Elegy | |

Springtime Spell


…And there’s a naked lady
On a rocky shoreline, I see

Her beauty, a pinkish smile
As I, the lover, pass her by

The jolly rhythm of the sea
Has a great resounding plea

The rain will not fall today
Though, the sky’s real gray

Sweet laughter in the wind
Hers touches my worn skin

I plead thee, O careless tare
O let you not disrespect her

For she, truly, reminds me
Of my ever dearest fantasy

Every time her beauty I see
Whilst I drink my morn tea

 


Details | Free verse | |

Natural memories

Count the days in the garden.
Let love bloom all around.
Recognize the peace,
there is harmony in the sky.
With each and every leaf or bud -
new breath, a miracle.
Make memories unforgettable,
garnish them with thoughtful floral fragrance.
Add that loving laughter, those smiles.
Create that sense of magic,
and cherish natures dance.


Details | Free verse | |

Singing Stars

Remember when the singing stars 
knew our names?
We spun at midnight on the lawn
We danced with silver feet
The grass lay down beneath
our steps 
submissively complete.
Each star we saw, we touched
that night
Remember how they fell?
A spinning sight
As we, exhausted
sweet collapsed the lawn
and lay deep breathing...
and laughing...
And laughing...
Gardenias in bloom 
leaving their scent on our skin.
Grass in our hair
to be earth in our sleep.
Stars in death
leaving their marks on our eyes.
and childhood running away from us
bolting, a star burning out in midnight skies,
down the summer asphalt, 
to grey.


Details | Senryu | |

#18

The final chapter
This life coming to an end
One more beginning


Details | Free verse | |

the Lone Whisperer


Alone,
in peripheral solitude, without glory 
nor fame to flaunt---Ernest the whisperer, serenading
the sweetness of the gentle wind.

The scent of a naked lady
engulfed him, with a pinkish smile
and he wishes…
for your ultimate return.



Details | Ballad | |

THE COUNTRY THAT GAVE ME PRIDE AND HONOR

Sunflowers and lilies fluttering
in the sweet scented breeze...   
seagulls descending
from the clearest sky penetrating,
even further than thought, 
into the tuneless waves
of the peaceful sea;
my coming to this shore
is to sense credibility,
to get a glimpse of creation
before age shows me
the final path,
to witness that all
I created won't  fade into oblivion...

The Country that gave me pride and honor
was more generous than a mother,
alluring me with her charm,
proclaming me her chosen son;
I have wailed her obsence
and at the time of departing, neither
the promise of riches
nor  the vision of prominence
could dissuade me of this sacrifice:
that no other ambition could take me further...

Sorrounded by beauty and infinity,
my first dream gave me the wings of expression...
to go where I dared not go without certainty;
amid storms I would not be lost,
on ascending tides I would not be tossed ashore,
because my courage prepared me for the worst:
while wisdom and knowledge nortured my ego,
my dilemma conflicted with predestination...  

The Country that gave me pride and honor,
long stands for excellence and grandeur...
past glories at every corner,
ruins that still resound of voices,
of ordinary people in the busy markets;
hails bestowed upon the new conqueror
passing underneath the arch of  triumph,
another Caesar declared through the streets of Rome!  


Details | Lyric | |

Russian Troika on the Roads of Night

Night. 

A snow field.

The moon pours silver light.

It is good to sweep on a sledge now! 

Horses rush 

Into whirlwinds of snowflakes,

Somewhere a wolf howls, 

Somewhere, the owl cries.  

Stars are reflected in the snow. 

They and trees in white fur coats

Listen to the crunch of snow

Under the sledge,

Crying of guitar

And song about unhappy love.

Three beautiful horses

with sleighbells ringing

carry someone 

On the roads of night.

 

 

              


Details | Free verse | |

Revisited

The cottage has changed
And not only the cottage itself
For buildings exude more than just their fabric
They say something about their owners
About their occupants
About their time

When last I was here
The dwelling communicated a solitary inhabitant
In touch with nature and self-sufficient
Sustenance from the land was evident all about
The stonework looked as old
As the wood by which it stood

As I look at it now
Gone is the garden produce
Replaced by manicured lawn and parking area
It radiates the clean and safe refurbishment
Of the commuted family
It even looks new

Thankfully, the lane remains the same
The footpath by the clough is still here
Over the stile and into the wood
Thick with the scent and colour of bluebells
A pheasant calls
A jay takes sudden flight

The canopy is still quite light
Spring is still quite young
Ferns unfurl their fronds among the wood rushes
And pink purslane grows strongly on either side
As the undulating path
Criss-crosses the tumbling stream

Nothing has changed here
Perhaps a few less feet tread this way
Certainly no other traveller passed today
Yet, only a stone’s throw away the mills are now apartments
Strange that the flock at the church
Is no bigger than yesterday!

A less allegorical flock
Is grazing the pasture
As we leave the wood behind
It has been a good start to the year
For, with every ewe
A brace of lambs

So, too, the meadows are as I remember
A rare thing in such an age
The ancient field system is still intact, and
The village is little changed except for the cars
So, with the circuit complete,
How will it look when next I visit?


Details | Free verse | |

Thoughts of Spring

Warm winds softly blow,
Carrying with them the delicate smell of spring,
Awakening memories long forgotten,
Evoking distant feelings unknown

Youth’s careless joys suddenly return,
In small flashes, they appear,
And play within my mind, 
So bright and colorful at first,
They slowly fade, lingering like shadows,
The next moment gone

The once frozen ground –
An emerald forest of life,
Now whispers readily to the waking insects,
Announcing its cheery greeting,
Sharing tidings of winter’s end

Barren trees flex their weary branches,
Soaking in the moisture of a new rain;
Their eager roots finally quenched,
As budding limbs peer cautiously down,
Witnessing the curious ocean of green

A lone squirrel gazes out from his lofty perch,
Tentatively sniffing the air;
He boldly scuttles from his wooded fortress,
Excited by the sight of gleaming sun on water

A smile erupts across my face,
As I am forced to share in this simple pleasure –
To think that nature is reborn in an instant,
And we are chosen to be part of it.


Details | Senryu | |

Florida

Orange blossoms smell sweet
The sunsets are beautiful
I miss Florida


Details | Couplet | |

Love and the River

  Darkling romance with the river I love
swim in a trance
with the stars in my glove
reflecting the visions of your 
gentle shores
when you wash me away
you know I love you more
More in the mirror
that shows me your name
wet on my mouth
meant to drive me insane
trembling moment
before life began
more than a woman
more than a man
more than the price I would
pay for my eyes
kiss me with moonbeams
a current of sighs.


Details | Pastoral | |

LOST IN WONDER

Leaves glisten the silver birch,
Long shadows cross the stubbled earth,
Cloud mountains fill the sky;
Lost in wonder,the day done
I pace the well worn track,
Late summer upon my back--
Content,aglow,at one.


Details | Free verse | |

Baja

Near Catavina
surreal
God's movie set
escape to a scape from another world
huge boulders, goofy cacti
comical scrub trees with tapering
barrel trunks
thousands of tiny thorny arms

And little furry creatures
scampering across the roadway
dodging the pizza man
as the sun set
the full moon rose
and the art director
above it all
painted everything
in pinks and purples
and fiery reds


Details | Free verse | |

A Night Wish


A salacious wind passes by 
and kisses the skin. Fireflies’ glows 
dance about in the dark 
and lure the twitchers of the night.

A woven sheet spreads over 
and warms the lonely bed—
wind becomes stunned, with smiles on the wall.

Dream with 
two eyes of passion deeply longing for your 
remnants.  

The clouds so gentle with stars winks—
sigh, then tiptoe away, and yet wish me not 
of goodbyes. Still the silence of the night whispers
you, through the window of a relentless heart. 

 	

    
 


Details | Rhyme | |

Snow Missile

That glimmering white in every direction
Combine with this hill its pure perfection
Cool and crisp is this pure virgin snow
Let’s get the sledge and see how fast we go

At the top of the hill I climb aboard
With back straight looking like a lord
My heart beating at the sight of the drop
But with adrenaline flowing I won’t stop

With a shove from behind my long flight
Down this white hill and out of sight
With the wind in my hair I feel so free
Giggling hard like a demented banshee

Blood is pumping and my face is red flushed
The speed is exhilarating and fear is crushed
Like a tiny missile with the speed of a god
I find it all so natural and feel not odd

The wind is stinging my eyes to tears
But I can still hear the watchers cheers
My vision is blurred but the way is clear
I’m a human missile with nothing to fear

I open my eyes to find myself on a bed
God knows where with a bandaged head
My head is hurting and gave me a scare
But I’m to blame for being in the nurse care


Details | Blank verse | |

Road To Nowhere

Vast expanses of landscape
brokenly glimpsed
through darkened glass,
imposed behind the spectre
of my facial reflection;
out there in the wilderness
truth burns like a beacon,
faith sears like a branding iron,
history seethes in the rocks.

I see the galloping dead,
headless horsemen atop
lathered steeds,
pinion the malformed past
with their ghost weaponry;
feathers and buckskin trails,
displaced speed lines
beside the forked tongues
of endless highways leading
to the self-same deadening tomorrows.


Details | Narrative | |

A Blessed Season

 

Sitting out in the back I felt the cold north wind blow in across the lake.
   Nearly a spiritual moment as my breath it did take.
The summer had been long hard and hot.
   As I patted my wife on her hand as she lay on the cot.
The firewood has been all chopped split and put in its place.
   Ready for another winter to snuggle and embrace.
This is the time of year I look forward to so much.
   Like the feel of a warm blanket as winter sends us its touch.
Like a warm cup of cocoa to soften the nights.
   Or to sit by the fireplace with its embers so bright.
To reminisce of past days and the glory we find.
   Of loved ones that have past and their memories left behind.
Life has been good as I drink from its cup.
   I’ve enjoyed it to the hilt since I was a pup.
And as the snow gently falls and white glistens the earth.
   Remember before too long spring will return offering all a renewed birth.
Always enjoy what you’ve got and give the blessings to God.
   Praise Him with honor and love as through this life we must trod.


Details | Free verse | |

Loblolly Cove

As I traverse the rocks in Loblolly Cove
Searching for solid footing 
Amongst jagged teeth and seaweed slopes
As the shadows of Herrings call out warning
Circling high above in the slipstream
Thunderous and pounding are the waves
Sending the curious gulls to flight
Amidst the wind whipped brackish bite
Snapping at my heels with each step trodden
Watching the white caps on Normans Woe
They are spirits of sailors in the archaic hulls
Descending for a reckoning in darkened skies
A tattered and eerie line
To the horizon the cloud cover spreads
Listening to the symphony of the coastline
As I traverse the rocks in Loblolly Cove




Inspired by Vince Suzadail's "Pending Storm".
These are the rock I climbed every day as a boy.
Thanks Vince


Details | Rhyme | |

If I Could Fly

  If I could fly
I'd soar up high in the sky
On my instincts I'd rely
I'd be like a butterfly
Over and over I'd try
If only I could fly


Details | Free verse | |

Perplexed faith

Why are you always the last
one I think to call upon
in times of dire need?
In desperation my thoughts mingle,
become a minefield of explosion,
as I bring all my deep set fears and troubles.

I do not see your face
and yet I am not blind,
no voice can I hear yet
my ears have no issue regards hearing;
I try to reach out - unable to touch you
My heart yearning and mind tormented.

This world is strange,
many things in this world new
things appearing we are not sure of;
whether of  your plan or not?
So called alien and spiritual happenings,
things moving, occurrences unknown.

I remain but one of those confused.
Which things to believe I know not,
but have seen some myself,
although remain skeptical of others.
How are we to decipher
Where are we being led?


Details | Rhyme | |

Waning Wanderlust

because I hear I must heed
the ancient earthsky's silent call

          that softly echoes in my brain,
          telling me, "I am one, I am all,"

                    so now I'm dying to return
                    to where at last my searching soul 

                              may find its long forgotten self
                              and once again be truly whole.


Details | Rhyme | |

Donkey That Oversees The Cemetery

August the month of daddy's birth and death


Went to the cemetery today
It is a very lovely place
It sits upon a grassy knoll
A place just right for a stroll

Rural America, once the home
Of a country church
Where the congregation met much
No longer exists today..gone

Across the road fenced in
A donkey he-hawed a din
To let us know that we had kin
Buried there, where he overseed

The comings and goings
Of all that grieve
By day and by night
In the moonlight

All the ghost who
Roam about waiting
For that glorious shout
When we all will be gathered

To the heavenly choir
To sing God's praise
By the hour
Never tiring filled with desire

To worship together
Forever in the heavenlies


(I believe that when we die our spirit goes on to heaven not stay in the ground.  Only our 
body stays there and awaits the trumpet sound.  This is just a poem about going to the 
graves of my parents yesterday. Mostly it is true.  It is a Rhyme somewhat.)


Details | I do not know? | |

Insure Every Jewel

Swiftly she started the flashing rain
and called to the kids to enjoy the pain
The melt off the trees in the summer’s breeze
as the hail tore the clouds and began to freeze
The asphalt clinging to heated steam
and car tires hurling toward their headlight’s beam
A hush from the crickets all sparkling wet
as the  storm takes the lid off the sun’s sunset
She rolled the bikes down the gravel path
and clinked on the bell as she, head up, laughed
and rusted the wheels as they road down the road
 two girls fresh with giggles and goggles in tow.
The splashes decided to drown out the grass
who wept in the rain that they were growing too fast
as songs to be sung would be planted and last
as their roots tug the earth toward the perilous past.
The lightning danced up the clouds
The moon hid her face in her shroud
The bicycles raced with the wind in their faces
as the thunder shook the ground all around.
Their skin blest with drops from the rain
all worries washed slick down the drain
A passionate brood so internally good
on a trip down their memory lane.


Details | I do not know? | |

North Carolina Morning

Troubled with the weary world
and all the things that plague a girl
She stole a star-embedded sky
to turn her halfway right

The peaceful morning brings its light
to hungry squirrels and cardinals bright
Seeds to scatter, dreams to shatter
and absent, abstract thoughts that matter

Solid in determination
to fight her soul's elimination
Crying under glassy water
Tortured songs and hopes to carry
Fallen deep inside.

Creation visits but never lingers
It stirs you 'till you're fully centered
Alive with each new golden thought
Collected in the time you bought.


Details | Verse | |

Streaming Meditation

In the stream out back
folding marbled, polished stones
within its liquid tender arms
I strike conversation
Leaves from autumns passed
bed the bottom, amber lit
glittering with mica strung dreams
drowning reservations

You have known my youth
I have pierced your fluid skin
in winter, searching slumber's arms
in frosty breath we kissed
Now my face has aged
brutal truth upon my brow
and still you polish heavy thoughts
until they shine with bliss...


Details | Free verse | |

Dusk

Clouds as Heavenly rose bushes
     In the sky
Charcoaled veined branches
     Pushing and piercing
Entangled knotted wooden arms
     Acquiring the sky
Captivating territory
     Pressing into spongy soft
Of early darkness.

Molding their wishes into Blue
     Tranquility cut, scissored-in
As hurrying birds chisel their way
     Into darkening
Descending day.


     


Details | Bio | |

Weekend At Montauk

A heart that still beats
Unsteady at best,
Longing so long...
for a chance to rest...

Shooting stars
Shoot the breeze,
Falling leaves,
Cut down trees

Shooting stars,
One magical night,
On our way home,
Well before daylight...

The night
of the moondance,
I remember it well,
Home from Montauk,
With tales to tell

Fireplace sparkled,
Champagne bubbles too,
Warm bubble bath,
Room for two...

Wrapped in a blanket
on the terrace...
By the sea
Memories entrenched
Of my lover and me...

Steak and onions
That made me cry
A chance to relive,
For which I'd die

Tranquilizing surf,
Sweet morning's rise,
That priceless look
of love, in your eyes,
Those were the days
I'll always prize.


Details | Narrative | |

British Punjabi (2005)

Though I was born in the UK and I knew no more
In my dreams I heard my grandparents calling me to their door
I visited Punjabi and it lit my heart
This was me, a place in me where I found my part
Know I can see me as a whole
British Punjabi, my identity is in control
I met family I never knew before and they are a reflection of me
Funny, we live so far yet have parallel lives just to continue our ancestry. 
Unity just by sitting on the floor to eat
I am humbled to walk bare foot on the street
My village that struggles in a war and it is home today
I don’t feel torn; I know where I fee at peace and where I should stay 
I feel comfortable being inside of me
I am a British Punjabi 


Details | Senryu | |

Summers Picking Blackberries

Nicks, cuts and scratches
Stepping, reaching carefully-
Blurple stained buckets!


Details | Rhyme | |

Vanilla Moan

Electric eyes behold...
A screaming piece of fluffy Shakespheare runs through my veins.
Winter's cooling fingers from prizes refrains.
Breath of Shakespheare in my lungs remains.
Like a playful kitten frozen in mid-dance...
He whispers his soft vanilla moan to the world...
"Hold my Art in your hands, hark the gentle mating call."


Details | Senryu | |

#17

Heaven showers gifts
Fills the world around with love
Tired of receiving


Details | I do not know? | |

Tempest...Caress...

—Quiet tranquility as the storm passed; releasing physical manacles of the past 
threads, a new one to be spun—

touch upon an innocence, a drop of seduction upon the way,

blood, soft, red, hot, like her-his body,

travel and explore the wide, and untasted regions with a caress, hand, or tongue,

to roll, and run little beads of sweat upon golden skin,

in moving darkness,

upon sheets made of grains of lust, soft and grating, that strokes against the 
skin.

To unbind my hair, and let the breeze have its way, let nature have its course with 
me, and take as much as it dares

—Before I let another have me—

failing to comprehend that we take, to give, to taste and refine the uncouth.

Naivety of my youth,

Intoxicate, with the wine of sensuality—of a new day; knowing I wanted to commit 
a sin—

I shed my clothing and offer myself willingly; is this not a wonderful sacrifice, to 
rise with the dawn, and sleep with the moon,

—To fade back into the sea to rise when the moon and the sun make love—

I swirl around, relishing my freedom.


Details | I do not know? | |

Back to basics

Low tide on muddy flat
Squishing cold between bare toes
Slipslide steps of ever careful balance
Rhythm break of sharper shells
A minefield trip to brown salt water
With sun and stench colluding
To dull the pain of outliving children
A soul re-awakens in the soft slippery
Sinking grip of tidal change
Outward inward upward
There is no end in sight
As space expands
And color runs in light 
To follow reason
Forever asking why


Details | I do not know? | |

The Tree

‘Tis beautiful, the beauty of such a cursed place,

to see this woman bound here, twisted into the roots of this tree,

her naked form quivering as the roots continue to wrap its way around her body,

as intimate as any lover,

over the tops of her breast, her flat pale stomach, gently caressing her cheeks,

it brushes away the tears that the maiden cries,

and her pale gold hair that swirls around her face.

It takes a moment to savor her essence, her pure innocence, and shakes its 
large golden leafs in acceptance.

The tree of life has accepted the essence of the innocent,

the soul to live,

as it slowly devours her essences, she smiles, and fades away into the tree, to 
watch and grow with the other maidens before her.

Which is the beauty, the maiden, or the sacrifice, I speak of, nay,

It be the tree of life that contains the innocents of every humans’ time.

The large tree that stretches to the sky, plucks the stars, and let the maidens 
ride, to the heavens above.


Details | Free verse | |

Amber Glass Evening

These deep summer days
turn opal toward evening,
then amber in a parting 
of light and darkness.

There is a sureness
in the citron, a yearning
for the flames fanned
in the flickering children
dancing in tall blue-green weeds
as the last shadows of sun
turn lawn chairs to brass.

An obelisk of moon rolls
on the thick cloth sky
like an amethyst vase
arranged on tables with stars
like fruit and unmoving
grand parents sacred as artists. 


Details | Sonnet | |

Disdainful Beauty

Disdainful beauty, goddess of the ice, 
With gaze as piercing as a flint-tipped shard.
Age-old allure still does the Chill entice
To dance with her, and pose as Winter’s guard.

Her staff, which strikes the slipp’ry ground, commands 
The timid Sun to seek his early death
And rules bold Night to sate all her demands;
She bends the iron with her frosty breath.

A sweeping cloak of snow behind her spreads
With ceaseless cold that trails within its wake.
As Winter, in her icy bearing, threads
Within a soul a crave, a pow’rful ache – 

Desire to see the sun shine down once more,
Rememb’ring springtimes that had passed before.


Details | I do not know? | |

Change On A Plain

This small town
With all your idiosyncrasies
Change is already here
What's a small town to do?

Urban sprawl is gonna get ya
What are you going to do
When all the small town charm
Has been sold out of you?

No more vast corn strips
Instead it's, "Welcome to Wal-Mart!"
No more open airstrips
The next problem, "Where to put another Starbucks?"


Details | I do not know? | |

About Clouds

                      If you look into the sky
                      You may see castles drifting by
                      And dragons chased by knights of old
                      On quests of chivalry brave and bold

                      You may see ships with billowing sails
                      Chasing after fluffy whales
                      Or fleeing from some mighty storm
                      Seeking shelter from it’s harm

                      You could see a wizard, old and wise
                      Fire burning in his mystic eyes
                      Casting forth a magic spell  
                      To conjure a spirit from the well

                      There’s a fire truck chugging along 
                      Filled with firemen, brave and strong
                      Racing by to save the day
                      Wave them on their hero’s way

                      These are the things I see in the sky
                      You can to if you really try
                      Just lie on the slope of a grassy hill
                      And let your mind make them real

                           


Details | Free verse | |

Night Trip

Stop, this is the place, let me 
look outside, awhile, at the waving olive tree;
the shining stars of the evening sky, 
of the twilight night,
the gentle wind searching for unknown souls---
except for us, it recognizes me, while fireflies 
help the sleepy, sleepy moon, guiding its suitors
to reach their home; what a beautiful 
place, engulfed in serenity!

On this field of green, for a moment, let me 
lay myself here, 
assuming I feel this serenity. Actually, I felt 
it first when we (me and my wife) were once
hiding and found ourselves bathed in love,
engraving, for eternity, our names in the evening sky!


Details | Verse | |

Snowdrops

I remember snowdrops
in the fledgling spring,
in the veins of sleet
where the mill torrent raged.
How bejewelled cobwebs
to the reeds would cling,
and how all but that memory
has aged...


Details | I do not know? | |

Cape Dreams

summer burns a lazy haze into the mind
Of seaming endless days enjoyed
The sea warms to a silk sun touch
Rolling on hot sandy beaches
Curling surf bursts boils and bubbles
Froth afloat and running swiftly
Then left on sand to disappear
Before the next caress
shells and stones all roll in water
Dancing with the tempo's sound
Falling  tidal songstress whispers 
coastal breezes hum along
Gulls and terns are singing background
To a lazy Summer Song 


Details | Free verse | |

Love

Inside the tragedy
Put me inside you
I saw you there
Dusty anthems of heartache

Awake from the endless dream
Put your fears aside
With all the pain that you face
Stick me inside your body

With every light 
It shines on me
It brightens you
Electricity supernova

Im never alone
You feel the same rain
You feel the same wind
And you cry for blue skies.


Details | Free verse | |

Mount Etna

Cloud touch its head 
Mesina to Catania
pray to calm its temper.

In slopes of anguish
as its hold golden keys
ashes in soil claims 
superb taste feats golden basket.

Beneath and under written history
unreveal current blend in salty sea
courages immortal vigor as hero
fire to free its given demons.


Details | Blank verse | |

Petals

petals falling to the ground
i watch as each one drops
sadness steals into my heart
as the reminder comes
that summer is gone
this part of the cycle
has been completed
autumn is here
we are now waiting on winter
and as i watch the petels drop
i shed a single tear
to say goodbye to a old friend
then i turn away to greet
the returning beauty of
Fall.


Details | Tanka | |

THE HAVEN

under the hedgerow
along the green lane
off the leaves
slowly down my neck--
rain-drops


Details | Cowboy | |

Equine Knocks

Oak leather and loose latigo
Wash wind as saddles sing—
Splashing cool creeks the horses know—
Humming hoofs summers bring. 

Sun sparkles dappled trees ahead
As we now gallop on—
Our eyes are clear and faces red 
As we race to the pond.

We’re twelve years old and full of spunk
As my horse rears to buck—
Then I fall hard and go kerplunk 
And run clear out of luck!

Just as I hit upon my bun,
I think that I have died—
But then I see my luck’s not done—
That cow pie is all dried!

Oak leather and loose latigo
Takes us on that short ride—
With nothing broke or left aglow 
Except my own dern pride! 


Details | I do not know? | |

Downhill Runpicked

Sloppy sweet sugar corn ears
Dripping buttery syrupy tears
Too hot to hold without  end pins
The memories linger for years
Why did the taste of stolen corn
Always seem better at night
After filling the finger spaces of
Both hands with the black tassels 
Of at least three ears each
Two dozen ears at a dead run
One can but wonder why
They use picking machines
Corn racing could well be an Olympic sport
Or at least an annual holiday event
What other harvest offers such fun





Details | I do not know? | |

simple pleasures

I strolled along the river bank, in shade of woodland tree’s
Fragrant wild flower scent, was hanging in the breeze  
There in amongst the colours, of every green you’ve ever seen
I came across a waterfall, in the mid drift stream
Sunlight played in the waterfall, a glory to behold
Shining in its crystals, turning them to gold
Then I spied fisherman, all white with webbed feet
Ah a hungry Herron, was out for bite to eat
I sat near where the dragonfly’s darted in and out the reeds   
I watch them, as listened to the bird’s among the trees 

I paddled in stream felt cold water on my toes 
I laid back on grass, and let the flowers kiss my nose
And as I gazed upon the havens, two cloud were riding by
They look like giant horses, white stallions in the sky   
Later I chanced upon a glade, where I stop to have a rest 
There I saw a sparrow, collecting Foliage for its nest
It hoped, n bobbed, and skipped about, as busy as could be
Though it is a simple thing, a pleasure it was to see.     
 
Then I climbed a near by hillside to reach higher ground
So I could look upon the beauty of this valley I had found
The sun drape low in the sky, the day it had grown old
The river like a mirror was shining green and gold. 
That when I herd their call, then they caught my eye,    
Group wild geese, were silhouette against the sky,
Their beauty magnified, by the backdrop of an amber sunset, 
 Which crowned the dusk of this summers day, I’ll not soon forget. 


Details | I do not know? | |

The Orchid

The leaves are green
in the colorful trees.
The strong wind blows
through the tree-lined rows.
It is an orchid of life
capturing bright rays of light.
Children we are made
by those tall oaks of age.
It is the forest of our home
where one day again we'd like to roam.


Details | I do not know? | |

Flow

Flow
A mass of unrefined substance
Trickling over ancient grounds
Touching softly
Yet pressuring firmly
A bright, white surge
Upon a dreary backdrop 
That is what you are
And that is all you’ll ever
Be


Details | I do not know? | |

The Stream

Do you hear the sound?
The soft, sweet gurgle of life.
Do you see the sight?
The glittering, dancing rainbow of light.
Do you feel its body?
The running, flowing liquid of might.
Do you taste its essence?
The pure, pleasurable nectar of all that is right.


Details | Couplet | |

WINTER '47

Snow banked high against the gate
Walking to school,never late

Milk left solid on the cill
Ears well muffled,against the chill

Rationed coal,eked ,bit by bit
Fire grates, so rarely lit.

Nights of cold,run into weeks
'Til grass through iron soil,peeked.


Details | Free verse | |

DEEP SILENCE

Deep silence
interrupted by a brutal storm...
wind lashing,
buckets of rain pouring;
lamp-posts were lit at four,
as dakness advanced with haste!

The brick-paved square,
where the artists gathered
to display their talents
is empty and desperately laments;
the struggling musicians
don't play the flute and the violin...
seeking attention and sympathy,
but the desolation adds to their imagery! 
How sad is for the painters
to put their brushes away in wooden cases...
when the inspiration was at its peak;
pitifully watch the pigeons,
drenched and shaking, with nothing to eat... 
kindly offer them what they seek!


Deep silence
descended on the gloomy town,
once enbued by passion
and thrilled emotion...
now no longer present;
the perfumed peach trees in bloom
have been stripped of their soft petals...
to embellish the deserted,glittering streets!
Listen...an harmonica is playing at close distance,
to up-lift the low spirits subdued by doom!


Details | Free verse | |

Paper

He,being the bridge to thought 
Reminding me of what i forgot 
Ubiquitous..
Seemingly everywhere, but not 
Amazing its ability to mold 
Shape the future and what it beholds 
From evictions to revolutions 
From problems to solutions
Lubricant,
To oil the wheels of time 
Storing rhymes,
Rhymes to tell her and his story 
Can morph from beauty to gory 
Manipulate and stipulate emotions 
Able to handle poisons and potions 
Even god found it fit for his words 
As ideas merge 
And the more often it turns
Torn and stripped from the life of land 
However given life to the poorest of hands
For the pen is mightier than the sword 
But what would it be without paper as a source


Details | Free verse | |

The Sound of Silence

Its utterance permeates the dense
Air. As a monarch butterfly flaps its
Delicate wings, without a single
Care, the Gregorian chant
Dissipates, slowly, metamorphosing into the
Lair, where a cub is nestling against the lion,
A mother nursing her young,
Fair-skinned son, similar to
The road to Zion,
Rare and scarce to find a minute disturbance
There. The sonic waves 
Have been temporarily interrupted by this
Mare, galloping to and fro, everywhere, and
Nowhere is found, one isolated sound. Do you
Dare, to end this golden browning of harmonious
Flares, in the celebration of sweet silence?
Do not let this occurrence pass by,
Unaware.


Details | Lyric | |

Jonny


My dear  dog  Jonny, we are alone with you.

All in the house is silent, only hours mutter.

What days have come!

And nights! Ah, what nights!

How the poplars are fresh!

Bird – cherry tree! Inhale her quickly!

The in-love earth is shaking. 

She is drunk from fine aromas.

Well? But do not bark, do not bark!

Do not annoy neighbours!

Our May was crowned today

on an empire of songs, filled with the scent of lilac!

All the night the lights burn on the banks of Volga,

Horns of ships are crying disturbingly. 

My dear Jonny, we are not alone,

because this delightful May is with us!