in darkest watches
of the night
like elvish sprites-
of children filled-
with summer rapture
a quest to capture
the purpling skies
and delighted cries
(my part six entry into the crown sonnet started by Debs)
Ahead the bear in sudden motion stands.
I want to turn and run, but this is not
my way; I grasp my knife in trembling hands.
This fight will be like none I’ve ever fought!
The beast is greatly wounded; I can tell
by how he weaves, and I must take his life!
His neck I’ll strike. I breathe in; then exhale. . .
With all my might, I lunge out with my knife.
My free wrist he has clawed, but I am good!
Again and then again, I thrust and thrust.
Blood gushes from him as I knew it would.
I willed his death, for in myself I trust.
His warmth I’ll take by scraping fur from skin.
I bow before the bear to honor him.
As the men of the great sea carry me
Assuring them of safe travel on water
Courage and serenity are given free
Am restless anxiety adjuster
Feel so soft smooth as nestled in pocket
Look deeply into my pale blue colors
Ye men of wide sea who wear bluejacket
Those who my purpose are sure acceptors
How my healing powers strength your heart
Throat, spleen, immune system, mouth, ears, breating
Offering protection for journey chart
Constantly in your pocket safely abiding
Mental, emotional, physical
Aquamarine polished smooth possible alchemy
Written for Stoned Contest
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
Contest had closed when posted
When the time arrives for me to depart
from the sunlit harbors of the living.
Take me aboard a navy fighting ship
and carry me back again to the sea.
Order the boatswain to construct a skid
made of wood and painted with fresh white paint.
Build it to hold a gray weighted coffin
draped by Old Glory with her stars and stripes.
Cruise the coast of my beloved home Whidbey
until full abreast with Ebey’s Landing.
Muster the funeral party astern
Play taps and slide me into the blue drink.
Let the storm-flecked waves of the rolling sea
take this old sailor to his final peace.
The moon plays at being the midnight sun
with abandon he struts across the sky
in such majesty it catches my eye
I bow in obeisance, my heart is won
Behind him come plunderous clouds of white
riders on horses with dust in their wake
racing steeds on a quest to overtake
the renegade moon in his selfish plight
Closing in for capture they poise their net
as the stars watch their proud King's demise
the clouds press on eager to seize the prize
and use the moon's light to their own benefit
The final bugle sounds, in hues of gold
The sun peeks up to watch it all unfold
The night emits a citronella scent
From tiki torches topped with living flame;
I swim in circles -- softly speak your name --
While starlight washes over us, content.
Cicadas still sing secrets to the trees
Like Summer's heartbeat throbbing in the dark --
While on a new adventure we embark,
Sped onward by a silent, gentle breeze.
Your kisses ripple slowly down my spine --
Your touch is strong and steady, like the tide --
Warm bodies wrapped in motion dip and glide --
You turn the turbid sea to fragrant wine.
The rising moon gives witness to my cries;
Tonight I drown within your ocean eyes.
Your wings shades me like a wild oak tree
gentle and warm leaping the spiraling sea
the seagull rushes in the sultry soft breeze
speak forth your dreams and let them be free.
Songs and festivals we drank to the depths
and lovingly, prayed to the devil, bewitched
too many lovers passed this charming ditch
where all I have now is one lonely breath.
With my brazen fire I kindled the beasts
fallen from heaven dried brown the earth
down on my knees to beg my own worth
hungry dark angels circle the feast.
Surround me Seagulls your voices sailing
Where can I fly to quicken my failing?
Meeting Van Gogh…sonnet
the wheat-field, blond as a Volga German milk maid, heat
intense and in the shade of a demanding olive tree I saw
grumpy Van Gogh, glaring at me intruding on his painting.
“Sorry for the scooter it is electric blue and doesn’t fit in,
pretend it is a donkey free of its leather harness.”
The vines, deep green leaves and fertile soil, soon there
would be grapes, mostly dark cerulean, an army of wine
to come tempting souls into surrender… liquid pleasures;
and the narrow road snakes amongst fields like a black
mamba hunting grey rabbits in the meadow.
I have the afternoon sun in my eyes, a cooling breeze
on my back; and then I drive off the road fall amongst
thistle and thorns and the spell is broken, look around
but only Van Gogh witnessed my disgrace.
A jiggling rush of energy
Wags along our messed-up stair
As Lullie huffs with a naughty glee,
To cause mayhem beyond compare!
My dachshund begs to play tag -game
With flopping of ears , this just disarms;
While dog’s trick to win is one big shame
She guards me dear from any harm.
Lullie sleeps often in my bed
Her belly twirling all around;
I wonder of mischief ahead
Till fingers trace a rounder mound.
Oh baby pups arrive, although
Lullie's mate, that I'll never know!
Shadow Hamilton's Pets
~ A true story ~
The Pirate and the Sea
Come sail to sea with me
Let me show ye how it’s done
Sailing that is, I’m not the only one
Let’s go sailing on the sea
Many a storm, thar will be
But yer life has just begun
Look up and see the shining sun
Did you hear that loud boom?
Just listen’ ta them thar drums
Tonight they be drinking rum
As pirates we’ll have a blast
Ye’ll be dying whilst yer young
Ship’s a sinking fast
Life at sea really be such fun
A child was I in Space Odyssey awe
When rocketeers on lunar ascent shone:
In Sea of Tranquility my eyes saw
Ground Control to Major Tom...engines on!
New age Columbus kings voyage and realm
In ships on alien frontiers stranded;
New worlds beyond and Earth men at the helm
Till Three...Two...One..."the Eagle has landed".
Mission to scout astral planes in deep space
Led Command Module on orbiting stay,
Leaving flag and footprint in human trace
On entry splashdown out of Milky Way.
In your tin can you rode the sonic boom
To the stars on the dark side of the moon.
For the It's All About the Moon contest.
Apollo 11 - 20th July 1969:
I remember it well - I was 8 years old.
At some point, my legs begin to converse
of time spent on the trail, rest now needed,
For like a horse's labors exceeded,
the strength mere food and water can't traverse
Beyond exhaustion, repose will reverse
Thus respite, backpack set down and relieved
of duties, containing my home achieved,
until such time as rested legs endorse
my return to trails, and onward I go;
Traveling far Appalachia’s way,
witness to wonders and all living things,
in far towns and altitude, well below,
where nature’s flora and colors bouquet;
To motivate legs that have become wings.
Written: April 25, 2014
for Craig Cornish's Miltonic Sonnet Contest
Imagine sitting in the sand at the beach,
The sand between your toes and just close
enough where the water can reach.
The sand is wet and a little cold,
You look out at the clear blue sky you see the
sun shining like a piece of gold.
You see dolphins jumping in the distance,
Glad that they're apart of existence.
You see a flock of seagulls soar,
You lay back and close your eyes listening to
the waves crashing onto the shore.
Smelling the salty water and the sun hitting
The warm and comfort you feel within.
You hear kids as they laugh and play,
Smiling because today was a great day.
May 04, 2014
~ The One and Only~
I revel in the falling leaves
their fluttering flight to ground
I listen to the falling leaves
hear their pitter-patter sound.
Oh see, the ruby red, the pale gold,
the omnipresent sable brown.
Look, see the shivering birch let loose...
add their colors all around.
What glory's found, as form takes flight
each transformed, re-formed, astounds,
May we detach with such serene grace
when our earthly life's unbound.
Oh, listen to the falling leaves
see them rest, upon the breast of ground.
Listen with open hearts and freedom in mind
What we do now will effect all of mankind
Are you willing to fall as sheep meant for slaughter?
Dare to be willing to die for son and daughter
Dare to be willing you to think beyond yourself
Dare be willing you to sacrifice life itself
You have forgotten that freedom comes at a cost
But believe me when I say that all is not lost
Hence, the call out to alll come and stand together
Cause we then will again have the power wether
So no matter how they decide to come at you
Cry freedom and do what you have the right to do
Screams and bellows cry out throughout the world of man
Hear the echoes far out beyond your borderland
Many crying out for freedom and paying a price
Will you give it away not even thinking twice
We once served as a beacon to a world in plight
Now the call is to serve as a beacon of light
If we refuse to stand now and put up a fight
Then America will one day fall from world sight
People of the world are not calling politicians
They are guided by own secret design intentions
Information age makes perception reality
Fail to recognize then wake to world totality
Encouraging you all to live a life of leisure
Soon one day you will be on your knees crying please sir
Focus not on the fear itself or you will lose
Calling again to you now Americans choose
the sheer notion of extorted kindness buried beneath a sorrowful note of racketeering compassion above a silent whisper throughout the queerness of being wise beyond a tarnished silver spoon of tangible lessons shattered throughout blind faith cringing for life after death
The hunter hunted; the past comes stalking,
breath now visible, I quicken my pace,
dusk has fallen, nature is now talking,
autumn's chill causes my heart to race.
My eyes scan dense forest from left to right,
I stop, gain my footing in the thicket,
only branch and crimson leaves in my sight,
owls call out, and prey upon the cricket.
Voices seem to speak from the babbling brook,
cold stones, worn smooth, waters of countless days,
eyes are everywhere, yet nowhere I look,
something is near, I cannot get away.
Struggling, my arrow kept at the ready,
my once stealthy hand, is now unsteady.
This was my original entry for Debbie Guzzi's contest - "A Crown of Sonnets"
(This is also the first sonnet that I had ever written.)
The heart is a bridge that we must cross
To arrive on the side where love abides
On that journey many get lost
And are swept away to the sea's surging tide
The bridge of love will never fall
Even when the waters of hate rush in
Over troubled waters the bridge stands tall
Secure in the power of love within
But there is a bridge that we all must cross
To get to the other side of the unknown
Upon that bridge many souls are lost
There is no return once the spirit has flown
If you should cross over to the other side
Be sure it's the side where love abides
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"
I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!
I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!
He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!
"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
and then I vowed to get us in the game!
I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!
"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!
Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
while I choked up--and readied for a hit!
All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"
The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!
I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!
The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!
The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!
The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!
The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"
Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
and on his heels--I made my promise good!
We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!
The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!
I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me!
Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
We still face the test of absolute truth
As creatures of the wild roam on a vast field
The sun burning through their earthy pursuit
Within this mind, a darkened haze concealed.
I watch their shadows, deepening a leer
My fingers grip waiting for the light of dawn
While mossy scent pervades on woods’ frontier,
Restraining a planned scheme as moon grows long.
Daylight wakes and I seek the open trail
Across the range, a moose nibbles on weeds
It’s curve -like silhouette fine like handrail
Now, desire for prey claims a game sullied.
Then noises ring, and noises ring again
Deafening the echo of silent glen.
Seven Stones in the Crown & other Gems
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
by nette onclaud
Do you not see them gathering in the mist
Believe it or not all of you are on the list
Have you they by the throat yet you have not choked
However this does not mean you are not roped
Each morning you wake up from the cup you drink
Yet only one truly gives power to think
Continuing to live as the slave you made
Drawing your last breath before taken by blade
Many fall to the ground world wide every day
The majority all stand looking away
As the thief approaches your will, will comply
Soon that day will come when you will not deny
The next time you here the sound of heavy rain
Let it serve to remind you of all human pain
Every music piece is distinctive
Most lyrics are positive
It doesn't matter if she kissed a girl or said you’re so gay
Lovely to create a teenage dream
Admirable to be an enthusiastic philanthropist
When she roars, fireworks engulf the sky
The charisma she shares unconditionally
Her perfume spreads the fragrance that meows
The Killer Queen fragrance refreshes the senses
Her breakdown in life lifts her yet again
Katheryn Elizabeth Hudson known as Katy Perry
Marches into the symphony of music
Lending her voice in Smurfs
She dazzles into the soul of her fans
Soap bubbles float through mid-school breeze
that crack our giggles, to the playful night,
we dab the sheen film on oak trees
or glue bobbed orbs on crushes’ kites
And vapor-like, our summers warmly wrap
the peek-a-boos squeaking tag games
on moonlit field where foams eavesdrop;
inviting tricks without a shame
Long days collect more popping sprees
as sticky piles knot in our hair
like wiggles on tanned sun, how free
to mess around till burnt cheeks tear
The madness of young summer brings
under red stars, I feel her bubbles sing.
Contest: SKat-Oz's Summer Poems
I'm tired of you becoming just words,
On every page when I write at night.
I saw you as a pretty face at first;
I wouldn't mind if my ink pen dried.
I say it because you're a human being;
These situations are not my type.
I want "I love you" to mean something,
And you stay right by my side.
Honestly, when I write poetry,
The feeling is unconfirmed, undecided, undefined.
You are worth more to me
Than words written down on every line.
I'd prefer to have you in my arms;
Paper and pen will not tear us apart.
©2013 Honestly JT
For P.D.' s "Any Poem Goes #6" Poetry Contest
Fairest and prettiest of all queens, you're never faithful to your king whose hands
barely touch your luscious lips that others secretly kiss;
and you meet them in an empty dungeon to satisfy your urges of lover,
not honoring those vows blessed by that priest who sprinkled Holy Water.
In the prime of your youth, you were given in marriage
for an exchange of great wealth by a father so greedy and heartless
who sought his interest, refusing to admit you were of a tender age;
and he brings his gifts to appease a king who won't demote his rank of prince.
Loyal maids know each secret and arrange your meetings with another knight,
keeping a watchful eye, and they would warn you if they heard footsteps;
naked and screaming, enjoying the ecstasy of lustful lover...wishing it would be night,
to forget the lack of everything: from sensual kisses to warm caresses.
Does guilt ever accuses your conscience of wrongdoing,? No, you seek revenge
by having continuous affairs with knights who have more sexual drive than an old king.
What lies behind those mysterious black eyes?
What happened to our paths why did they become tied?
Nobody spoke to you, why were you alone?
After seeing you smile my heart has fondly grown.
In the middle of nowhere you're from my home town?
This cannot be real I realise with a frown.
Maybe it's time to put these mushrooms down.
into the darkness we shall find peace;
into our lands so long ago....
we are now above everything else;
as a sermon waits for our presence below
hearing echoes and humming of creatures
so soft and discreet are the animals we love
the cretaceous periods at our door;
Now we must wait for one more
and waiting for us above in the midst of fog
is everything we wanted and more...
beneath all this we shall find ancient ruins
and some basic facts yet to be proven
you and I made it here once before
as we wait at the gate so calm and patient
At once we arrive together
feeling as light as a feather;
With both feet through heavens door;
As we walk in the light together;
dedicated to my family: Steve, Matt, Patti, Lisa, and Mom
It approaches from earth up to sky
You will miss it if you continue to vie
The limbs are yet small but then they grow long
They wander through life looking to belong
This garden holds a variety of fruit
You never know you may end up in suits
Durinng the approach is the time to choose
All up to you wether you win or lose
Even though the deck may be doubled stacked
The will presses on with relentless attack
Limbs they do stumble and break; a mistake
These are the times when the will, will remake
Longing desire from sea to shinning sea
The prize is allowing it to roam free
****** Entry in Karen Ruff's Shakespearian Sonnet Competition*******
Know that this the bird whom is
Words given to those who have
The challenge for you is not to arise
But whether you free yourself from
leash and lash
Now here are some questions you
Why do I choose one particular
Why do they choose to define by
How else do you think they control
The reality to this is that it exist
Reaching every corner of the globe
Foolish of you if after we dismiss
Not to travel back into the abyss
See, this really should not comes as
a big surprise
Already you know from the ashes
Desperately seeking companionship
Julie booked a cruise on a ship.
She met a very strange man there
with a beer belly and receding hair.
She ate the food and drank the drink;
the plumbing backed up, the whole ship began to stink.
For a solid week they were stranded there
with everyone running around in dirty underwear.
Finally the Coast Guard came and rescued them,
gave them cool fresh water and fed them spam.
Julie was glad to get back home but was sad she had no fun;
she contemplated her plight in life and decided to become a nun.
Julie knew that in a nunnery she would have no fun while there;
by this point she really didn’t care, at least she’d have clean underwear.