(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.
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.
A child was I that Space Odyssey day
When men walked the bright celestial rock:
In Sea of Tranquility my eyes may
Have seen futurama and future shock!
New age Columbus kings of starry 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 Lunar Module on orbiting stay,
Leaving flag and footprint in human trace
On entry splashdown out of Milky Way.
Your pathfinder bow rode the sonic boom
To the stars on the dark side of the moon.
Apollo 11 - 20th July 1969:
I remember it well - I was 8 years old.
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~
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
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
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
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
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
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
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 ~
Smiling profusely by my side,
Withholding the aura of my charm,
Thinking how possible is my plan,
Delirious is I as to my possible slide,
Subjecting myself to her emotional farm,
On the process of illuminating her beauty inside,
Now I think it's time to play the clown,
Deliberately displays humility I admire,
She's willing for a passion to conspire,
The wrongs she pleas are suspended by my frown,
If granted the privilege we could make a clan,
Distraction my tool of partial larn,
Seemingly naughty is her on a glide,
Interpretation of status we further seek to affirm.
A cowboy named Hank joined wagon trails going west on his horse
He rode the outskirts and back trails of cities in search of a home
He would get a piece of land for growing corn near a river’s source
That would ease his restless soul; put an end to all his groans
He recalled the squalor and filth seen in towns he had passed through
So many miles way back when; he had long since lost count
In his mind his plans stayed fresh; persevere was what to do
At each stop he carved the vision while filling his canteens at the fount
As for one regret-he could not read nor could barely write his name
He would teach himself come evenings, from Grandma’s 'Good Book'
Her legacy, tucked in his saddlebag; dusty, yet, still looked the same
She had raised him on her own when his folks passed on, with all it took
To him, success was the only way he could ever pay Grandma back
Vowed he’d find that land near a river, far from the railway tracks
For Tirzah Conway's, "A Cowboy is" Contest
Many are by the night mice,
They eat you quietly like lice
Their pretence is just to entice ...
They are by no means really nice
The farmer’s love for his hens:
Every time in and out the pens;
So often he bakes with their eggs
His pet feeds daily on their legs.
Hold the brake when you hear love,
He may sing songs, she may with you laugh;
The agenda for you can be rough and tough:
Though it looks a sheep,it can still be a wolf.
Calamity hides its dagger under tongue and face;
So many have become its preys without any trace.
User's name : Kayod5
Contest : Impress me with small poem 11
Motiff : Philosophic
Sponsor : Giorgio V.
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.
Within ashen sky, glistening falling flakes flow.
I hear them, whispering gently to and fro,
Not saying a word, they speak gently to me.
Telling me of beauty above, I’ll never see.
Each one a different wonder of life’s bliss,
Rendering, touching crystal clarity, not to miss,
Surrendering glory of nature, with snow,
Before my eyes, smothering green, glittering so
Lazily lying upon all, silvery frosty covers adrift,
Announcing another season, arriving now swift.
Now the sound of crunching, an allegory,
Kidnaping moment, amidst such glory,
Each day continuing, upon nightfall glisten,
True sensations, winters blanket disposition.
written by Cecil Hickman
date written 11-19-12
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
Within our lifetimes man has found a way to reach the stars,
With impudent impunity, invaded Planet Mars.
Is there no place we cannot go? What is there left to do?
With telescopes so strong, the entire universe we view.
Does God still have a secret place where we cannot intrude?
And does he think his children are arrogant and rude?
Or he might have paternal pride in man's inquiring mind.
Perhaps he's out there planning more wonders, ours to find.
I think perhaps he'd rather that we stay in our own berth
And do a better job in taking care of Planet Earth.
He's given everything we need, if we just look around
And most of us are better off to stay on solid ground.
The poet and romantic would watch planets from afar
And need no closer look to know, how wonderful they are.
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
Lured across the world are we,
to setting sun, ancient sea,
privileged ones so carefree
lured to pastures greener?
Wander led the core of me,
to foreign suns Pharisees.
Naiveté fueled, footloose, free,
lured to pastures greener?
Herded child of Galilee
primed-pumped, then set free
fool's gold seeking protégée
lured to pastures greener?
Stop searching, surely, you see
beauty is all around thee.
As i traverse, never know when my sun will retire wholly
As its gaze bump on whole, to split out my knight errant shadow,
Dusty and encrusted sole of mine, wild creatures hum their pitying elegy like a widow While colourful grasses rest on their sandy and muddy couch delightfully.
The cloud coming with veiled complexion, my sun must go into bed,
The moon surfacing, the exact time for shadowy walkers,
Might stop in your hut to taps your wood like woodpeckers,
Chide me not, don't let your eyes go red.
For, that which comes to a man goes to another man
Maybe whirl whirl like wind or yours drizzle drizzle like rain,
Which thou cannot trick upon, as thou lives among human
For, mankind race is a journey to the same terrain.
For traveller am i since birth put me on
Chide me not away, nor my time sit upon.
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
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.
< master of disguise menacing havoc
I fear not your pronged fork and wooden stick
but one illuminates from presents sight
tis I carries master key whom ends plight
brushstroke if must with your evilness twist
for I stand strong from an Hevenly bliss
poke and probe away with your woven schemes
tis I'll be the one laughing though it seems
your inferno fire from gates of hell
diminished by just one shake from this bell
so bring on your barriers and good grief's
tonight I'll be the one with good night's sleep
sowing not fear of satin's smitten grasp
but turning check telling to kiss thy ass
The Devil Made Me Do It
Sonnets Only Contest
The shiver from the opened window.. flair
adventure blooms rose- cheeked upon the day.
The bags packed wait beside the tumbling stair
and soon the engine purrs without delay.
From ground to air unfettered form arises
outstretched open hand and heart embrace,
the foreign soil, the scent of ozone flies
and one arrives reborn with new space.
Babble greets, so welcoming, infant ear.
New taste, new spice, new dialect ringing.
The text, the style, the cloth of humans here
awaken long past lives with voices singing.
Once more reformed, am I, upon the page,
my nascent joy out spread across new stage.
Our qualms doth not live aloft our dreams to confer
Upon heavenly horizons where every soul shall dwell
Twas meant to turneth thy sight away from a lovers stare
Should sunshine always show, should seas forever break swell
Thou and thou maketh one long vow bound before holy eyes
As fate end lives to lure in new casts God maketh so endears
Why hath ye been sojourned in secrecy of where thine truest treasure lies
When in that divine next place, you will sigh at thine sight of no fears
Mustn't time only tell tales lived on by unvanquished surrenderers
Sailing cordially lost with us, addled no more but paddled on pent in pain
Or herein reap rewards wrought upon death’s frozen oar bearers
Shores to shores, we promised ourselves cradles to returneth once again
Thus as adventure unfolds amongst ocean graves hushed we see
Where perpetual peace reigneth forever we are at last in love at sea
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*******
Its not a downhill anymore. We've stopped. Dropped. To the lowest of lows. From the highest of highs.
Nothing can change. Everything has flopped.
Mistakes will always be made. All promises will become lies.
It's the way we were brought up. No one holds on to there word.
No hesitation whatsoever, point blank. Its second-nature now.
Don't you know what year it is. There is no chivalry, haven't you heard.
It'll never be the same. There's no forgiveness now.
Bank cards are used to crush and cut lines that break ties.
Cigarettes are used to dilute the amount of pain we cause others.
When is my next hit? I need it now! So bad that I'm willing to make Mamma cry.
I've been down this road before. What kind of an example am I to my brother.
I don't want this anymore. I'm tired of feeding my hurt with more pain.
With all this abuse, who gains while I make myself go insane!
Well it is like this you see,
I’m against odds they say,
It is in stone or it is in clay.
I fly away to set it all free.
Time does not exist to me.
Money has no cost to pay.
Love is a game folk’s play.
Life is a gift do you agree?
Shooting Stars always fall,
I wish I wish all of it for you.
Wishing on a Star l did call.
I wish blue skies just for you.
But time told this and time told that.
Show me the way with no tit for tat.
®Registered: Ann Rich 2010
May 31, 2010
I sprout with a surprise springing forth from me today.
Birds sing such a magnificent most pleasurable praise.
I want to be the one He promised soon He would raise.
I will be celebrated all by myself on that God-given day.
I will stand in His Gracious Glory at His appointed Say.
Yesterday will be but a blurring faded haze, life a craze.
He sets my soul on fire and sets my spirit off in a blaze.
I bet I will buzz like a bee zipping by you each May Day!
It is all in a day just for me to say.
Ta! Da! I’d bet you did not realize!
May Day! May Day! I say let’s play!
Walla! I say May Day’s materialize!
Waiting every May Day is loads of fun,
Unbelievably, May Day is never done!
®Registered: Ann Rich 2010
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.)
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.
Amore, wrongful was his raging flame
that burned for thee and turned him to a coal
combustible attempts were put to shame
his ashes danced inside a shopping mall.
His chickens cry because their much loved sire
became a fool composing love sonnets
about deep burning detrimental fire
that cauterized his lonely French baguettes.
Love's catastrophic and caustic waves
electroshocked his nervous system, gal,
amaranthine his agitations rave
and jumps he like a bronco 'n the corral.
Inside the ring of fire performs his dance
with vanished logic and unfocused glance.
© G.V. 06-19-2013 All rights reserved
Pardon me bleeding piece of earth
I see your excruciating pains
Like a pregnant woman in labour date
Loosing her beauty along with stains
Creatures atimes welcome evil as fair
Slowly quelling nature in nature rage
Visiting souls in journey not fare
Mother earth our boat through age
O' remember us in your days
For you are still our home
Good or evil you richly repays
So lets find her freedom
Come, come the earth is crying
Lets find a way to stop her dying
The explorers are nine,
Voyaging to a goldmine:
A quarry conceiling glistening gold;
None needn't tarry to be told,
Before mounting hurriedly his horse -
Well-resolved to stay on course;
Big game can cross their way;
Ahead some large rivers may lay;
Energy in them will wax wane;
Nerves too shall soon strain;
Not to weary the men maintain;
To bear the brunt they all remain,
Until they reach destination desired
And get good gold acquired.
< amidst grass carpet he plays
long ears bushy tail white paws
nibbles bulbs munches away
poor little thing had some flaws
hides hair braided and despaired
didn't stop this little guy
thought to self this wasn't fair
bowed head and started to cry
nectar is what he had sought
on this hopeful days journey
not to be trapped or be caught
or carted off on gurney
Mister Nibbles came to play
In garden's bedding today
Stones crash and shatter
Atrophy lie their empire
Fated souls separated
Nomadic in pursuit
Forlorn hearts in quest
Amour of absolute
A lifetime possessed
Dimensions of eternity
They cry into space
Dreaming of a fantasy
Fading memory of an embrace
A fated meeting binds them whole
Two halves, of one soul
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
She waited on the skyline, bloom and thorn
accordment of their oaths and thoughts at night
annealed recited entity - vows sworn
- the brave ascended to the Halls of light.
War-bullet traveled through the frozen air
companion loved - his stare embraced the ferns
- the laurel and the sage ascribed his fair
the stalwart chose the path of moon and ernes.
Dim lantern's flame her thought - on peaks beseech
ornate the winds surpass the granite plate
denounced the corteges and oaths to breach,
her highness steps, adorned demise, third fate.
And in the mists when winds bemoan in pines
their solemn words will fly from slopes to brines.
© G.V. 06-05-2013
standing midnight watch on the quarter deck
shipyard worker reported cries for help
Officer of the Deck sent me to check
on the portside sounded like a dog’s yelp
I knew of the barges on the portside
from port sponson saw man in the water
I tried pulling him out each time he’d slide
ship yard worker came and brought some order
a boat came to take us back to the pier
my white Dixie hat was pretty muddy
I later found out the man snuck out for beer
one week later my best friend was bloody
saved a life and loss a life in one week
I’m just thankful it wasn’t any streak
Strolling along the hot beach
Your hand is there for my reach,
Our feet are covered with sand
As we’re walking hand in hand.
Sitting by the warm fire
Our hearts are filled with desire,
As we are sipping our wine
You send shivers down my spine.
As music plays through the night
There is no one else in sight,
We make steamy summer love
Under the black sky above.
This dream I hope will come true
I’d only share it with you!
Through omens they received the sign,
defenders' skull bones did appear,
bare-white to burn upon the shrine,
death nested in their souls and fear.
Above the skulls were lit tall flames,
brigades of demons came to border,
they knew that Hell's dark legions' fame,
precedes the advent of manslaughter.
Thus brave the knights defend the castle,
behind the lines lords' horses snort,
the steel blades blood-clot in battle,
while women and children depart.
Membranophones of death hassle,
The demons' force invades the castle.
© G. V. 12-15-2012, All Rights Reserved
Atop the seas where mists descend and waves high meet
the flare of stars, that draw details where verses hang
and send enounced spring's sightly messages to greet
the Oxford skies of notte blue and eyes unsung,
splendiferous the ocean moons illuminate
above the passages of ships that mettlesome
advance beyond the skylines and scopes equate
multi-dimensional expand with diesels' thrum.
The nautilus become gray shades - in haze to wave
and colorful their messages on winds shall die
it is their voice in nimbus gray to fade and crave
the dancing layers of cold rains and winds' war cry.
Above the fields and seaward trips of compassed routes
on skyway paths the thoughts ascend and Oxford blues. .
© 05-10-2013, G. V., All Rights Reserved
(A hexameter sonnet)
A fragrant dancing tickles in my nose
Inhaling deep- intoxicant perfume-
Of some invisible narcotic rose.
The earth is host to swirling love in bloom!
Yet summers final blossom wilts away.
Each dawning promissory sunset sky-
Spectacular transition- ends each day,
And no escaping, not for you and I!
Two points of view may vary constancy,
Surrendering to marginal debate.
Relinquishing all fervent penalty,
Embracing change, I yield, my devastate.
May love transcendent of mentality
Deliver always swift reality!
He knows the fog that counts his steps tonight
So proud, the crow, stands on the wires, alone;
what made him bleed before the brinks of light,
defined by emptiness and mountain stone?
The fog surrounds the crow in early dark
what else deserved to be once more recalled
remained to warn the souls that stare and hark
"this shroud descends your being to enfold".
Ethereal, departs on his ascension trail,
stouthearted is his life's long path, my Lord;
the crow unfolds in white engulfing veil,
his stalwart wings on Mistral's wailing chord.
And infinite became his nightly flight,
above the cedars croaked his skyward rite.
© G.V. 06-11-2013 All rights reserved
Into the plush fields they went just smiling
Laughing their way down the hills and diving
Into the weeds and flowers alike, soft
Cushion like forms allow for one aloft
Even through their fun, some pain enveloped
Thorns found Sally’s side, bleeding developed
Her friend ran to her, offered her support
Sally’s eyes cried with pain was their report
After they told their parents of their day
They knew their exploits weren’t over, no way
Patched up and ready to go was Sally
Her younger sister was always ready
Where the prettiest flowers are, they know
Away from the thorns, exploring they’ll go
I long learnt right I was. Naked nudges
In my candid heart proved to lack proofs ‘nough.
To show what my soul and ears couldn’t ignore,
Went I all lengths. A futile future it forged.
I was then forced the bitter lie to accept
Everyone but me wanted to see. The
Hero returns after long in the hunter’s nest.
Shouts and lights flashed at the entry of him.
He did frustrate my hold but I couldn’t
Help my doubts and turned stealth. At time’s nick, he
Veiled his true veil yet was I ‘head a step.
His plans failed while I gently others scales swept.
A hero they say he was, I villain I saw.
I am the scorned cure to this virus now born.
NAME OF CHARACTER: Claire Danes as Carrie Mathison
NAME OF MOVIE: Homeland by Alex Gansa, Howard Gordon….
This poem is written by Okunsebor Williams.
See! Air is spotless. I give you its blood!
I impose Poetry´s Knife where you post
You who slept to kiss all and any Tod
A Prince for your home as a foolish host!
You had nerve to pull Arms against my Man
This Viking Armada waits your shoreline
It´s you who tried my song to scan
Go song! To Athen, London, back to Rhine
And when I wrote your Name in chilly air
I called you things you never really heard
Yet my melody hurts down to a hair
I´m no longer my tribe´s and line´s nerd
Sweden was a powerful Viking land
I take a blood-stained shield at my last stand
When you look at me
my heart trembles,
It pours from above
like the high
Your voice is so
cool, it replenishes
than the sound of
Your touch is like a
Your kiss is like a
water in the desert,
I'm craving for it
cause it satisfies
Yet you're the water
from the mountain,
You're high; I
cannot reach you.
My only happiness is
when you descend,
So I can wet myself
with your love that
has no end.
Oh baby your love's
like the waterfall,
I love the way you
bathe it on me
though it hurts.
BLOOD OF GERONIMO
Great Spirit here come I in humble prayer
child of your Bedonkohe blood and line.
I raise my hands to recognize you there
and plea you recognize this heart of mine.
I know you welcome all into your light
And let my way, as through this death I go,
Be swift and sure, if bad or good or right
As certain as blood of Geronimo.
Look! Is my line not tied to what's his past?
And does this not bring us our only choice
To bide amongst the tribe from out our past?
To gather in your light, and raise one voice
Of this, our song, our voices unified
And handed down through time, where we have cried.
...............© Ron Wilson
Another very special Sonnet that just wrote itself through me...where do they come from? And how?
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
To find myself hollow in the sea
And float endlessly in its currents strong
Swept up and down in the vastness I see
Lost in the ebb and flow while dragged along
To land on shore, be broken asunder
Another hard speck in a sea of sand
Beneath the sky with colors, I wonder
If I would be saved by a passing hand
Tossed and tumbled under each coming wave
I sense the ending of my days are clear
A wish, that silent eyes may find and save
A gentle grip from a child's hand so near
I find that I am now able to tell
The story, when a child's hand saved this shell
contest ..Leaf,Feather, Shell or Flake
In the center I sit.
Unraveling a core,
I lay it by the shore.
It’s a wondrous fit.
It is in pieces by a bit.
It sails an ocean floor.
It has a rip where tore.
It makes the seas split.
It travels day and night.
A never-ending drift,
It is brilliantly bright.
Moving along so swift!
It travels a path lit by a Star,
Rendering miles that are afar!
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2007
Disperse the sun’s most wicked rays.
Exhale the vapor of the light.
Fill the soft fringe with halo fine.
Dampen the blackness of the night
Stain pink as if the weakest blood
has washed upon cobalt the skies,
cry out in fear for at the dawn
a cresting wave will sailor’s ride.
Belay, belay, the storm’s intent.
The rage incased with morbid fright.
Assuage the rampant fretting sun
“Ah, give me fair soft candle light.”
For in the morn there comes a gale
and pon a widow’s walk I’ll wail.
an Arabian sonnet
Raising up a falcon brood – bucolic,
one becomes extremely melancholic.
Yesterday a clamor vitriolic
told of eyas’ danger diabolic.
Trying panacea called a mixer
feeding drops of magic juice elixir,
desultory effort served to fix her.
Little did I know there was a trickster.
Still forbearance caused my heart to tremble.
Gathered on the roof, my birds resemble
teenage bullies looking to dissemble.
Such assemblage often does beleaguer.
Lissome sibs had pushed off little leaguer -
fellow eyas not yet fledged but eager.
*eyas (eye’ yuz) is a nestling falcon
taken from the nest for training, plural is eyasses
MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE - Bad Blood
I should have known, her poor dear face so white
but love is love and Paris weaves its' spell
and easy came my mark, there on that night
she bared her neck, and ready, I could tell;
just as my teeth closed closely to her skin
an aching pain shot through my soul and tore
my probing mind apart, and locked my chin--
a toothache like I'd never known before!
But I can't stop! And as I cut her deep
blood rushing round my tooth and then the taste
that made me wish I'd layed within my sleep,
of nicotine that made her blood a waste.
And then she had the nerve that dreadful night
to ask of me, if I might have a light!
© ron wilson aka the Doylestown poet
The First Voyage of Paul
A sailing ship, out aimless on the sea
forewarned by Paul--to sail would be a crime,
but captain said "you're safe now--you're with me"
he vowed their trip to Rome would be on time.
And so they set about to sail the main,
not caring that the Fast had well begun--
nor that no sailing man could see a gain,
for such a trip would fail--before it's done.
The captain caused the crew to set their plight
towards a Cyprus port--for needed rest,
when all at once the day turned into night--
and then the wind of God made life a test.
The temptest blew for days--to Malta's shore
and set the will of God--forevermore.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Never mind; we all have brain but not intelligent.
Misunderstanding and disappointment is living base;
Harassment and mischievousness why do we face?
Is someone responsible somewhere for this dent?
Is hell or heaven a living standard an approachable hint?
We waste our present to plan tomorrow or to analyse yesterday,
We never estimated our progress but celebrating a birthday,
The entire life education fails to teach us mankind,
But modern human is living in a ghost tent.
Eats smell and spreads stink but not avoiding mint.
living in waste; searching better taste for standard living,
never learns a lesson, crime is his fashion for care giving,
Why do i disturb others and like sound sleep for more relax?
Always looking short cuts and direct rout for a clean shaving.
Thou have started a journey so serene.
One that shall take thee into spring,
Enjoying all of nature’s beauty unseen,
Feeling majestic powers, it will bring.
Imagine fragrances warmed by sunshine.
Feel cascading build of warmth around.
Mid day arrives, preparations combine.
As gentle fresh air moves without sound,
Brilliancy around thee captures your breath.
New birth engages your senses so deep.
Sweet visions revive thee, from sudden death.
Sounds caress thine ears, even in sleep.
Thou with thine eyes closed, awareness in smell.
Sensing lilacs, bidding winter farewell,
Sponsor Francine Roberts
Contest Name Bring on Spring
My knowledge of The Netherlands
Came from a beloved children's book.
I found the tale quite so charming
I wanted to take a close look
At a land that could spawn a child
As brave and as strong as was he.
Hans with his finger in the dike
Was a folklore hero to me
And when he won his silver skates,
I was filled with an honest pride.
My book fell apart and my dream
Of sailing away on the tide.
At home in The United States.
We raise tulips on our estates.
Oh, write tae me of the highlands,
the crisp air and the damp.
Write tae me of the heather'd fields
'ere Bonnie Charlie danced.
Oh, place yo'r quill upon the page
and dream a fey song wit me,
of rock tor's an' crags an' fiords
which join the raging sea.
Of fair Iona, the Isle of Sky
the Inner Hebrides.
Hike yo'r kilt, strap on the uilleann
and keen a sweet song for me.
Oh, dinnae tarry beyond the pale,
with the wail of the brash banshee.
*Written in dialect in the style of Robert Burns
**Dedicated to our Jamie our own Highlander
Starry night, Star bright shine your light!
It’s a lost world traveling at a rapid speed.
Oh guide me and teach me to properly lead.
For I am down here where nothing is right!
Send me a wind to take my flight,
And let them all take heed!
I am the deepest seed.
For I stand in all my might.
Let the Sun shine down on me.
Let the rains walk away.
Set my eyes where they can see.
For I am day by day!
As the world spins around and around,
I shall be found standing on top of Common Ground!
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2006
Cupped within the grasp of mine
the chi does swirl a treasure
twirling atoms held sublime
Reflections lift from hand to eye
each limpid surface framed
The sky above doest bring a sigh
as glorified is His name.
A world within two cupped hands
A world within each mind
Universes do unfold
within the scope of time.
So taste the waters offered thee
and see beyond the farthest sea.
I smoked my pipe and I found some dreams stuck in a seam.
The ancients lifted me up and I saw through crystallize glass.
As I looked the seams popped and scattered into a great mass.
The dreams were set free from my light of a shiny bright beam.
Now I have flashing darts in my eyes that shine as I will deem.
Now I am looking at you and you and you as green as the grass.
But that’s okay because now my eyes can gloss you up as brass.
Eventually, I will find a light inside of you with a sparkly gleam.
My visions are set up forth,
Free and clear with a deed.
Look to the Star of the North,
You shall find my only breed.
Be this to you or be this to me,
Scattered dreams in you I see.
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2007
Perched in unfamiliar terrain
Drenched in an unforgiving milieu
An infant vulture, lingered in pain
On the edge of a hill resisting the wind`s allure
With no prior instinct, it treads
Flapping its sporadic feathers
The strides it takes eradicate presumed threats
Its minute wings accelerate, while panic withers
Moving ever so further from the edge
A sense of pride provided a much needed surge
With eyes firmly fixed on the safe pasture ahead
Victory! Was meet, imparting its winning urge
The jubilation bred self-reliance and stupendous thrill
The former weary eyes prowled
Saw prey and killed
The innovative, un-vulture like infant was proud.
The effort…..the triumph…..the kill
The essence……the lesson…..instilled.
Prithee fair maiden for the knight, that com'th
amid the mists the sound of hoofs birds harked
from darkened woods the Red Sox hymn he hum'th
on rocks the chestnut's hipposandals sparked.
And whither tallt he go'th, for virtue's worth
endeavors in the past and feats he wrought
eloped with thee beseeching lust and mirth,
now saileth to New England 'pon his yacht.
Whence comest thou, fair maiden of the mist?
refulgent and caliginous thy sight,
noctilucent and by the winds sole kissed,
responding with negation to his plight.
A box of chocolates doth naught to enchant
behind her veils the Fenway she recant'th.
© 06-29-2013, G. V., All rights reserved
There is none faster to traverse the seas
Or stirring terror in hearts 'round the world.
Her sails as black as midnight steal the breeze.
This envy of the deep is called the Pearl.
She lies in wait near trade routes of the East
For loaded frigates bound to England's coast.
With Calcutta to Canton's cargoed feast,
They're pillaged, plundered, raped and put to roast!
Though, East India Trading Company,
Enraged by constant smuggling and the rut,
Fights harsh without success relentlessly,
The Pearl takes spoil and always doubled up.
It's midnight, Pearl, your hatches all dogged tight...
Horizon bound, more frigates yearn to fight!
For PD's contest:any poem
The air we breathe reflects the atmosphere,
bespeaks the people, climate, aura, smells
surrounding life wherever souls appear.
If I could choose, each day, in which hotels
to stay, my choice might be a different berth
away, to breathe anew, and taste; to view
a life unknown till now; rejoice, unearth
new worlds, recapture youth, revive, renew.
Yet danger lurks beyond the life we see
where comfort dwells in quality of peace;
at home is safety, love, sweet liberty,
whereas a quicksand lies beyond caprice.
In books, I roam to realms of pure delight,
intrigued, imagination breathes the flight.
The depth of darkest night houses my out spread wings.
Ruffled feathers about my neck are fluttering.
No villain can come within the range of my eye.
No bat or hare can flee far enough once I spy.
With a screech instilling fear, downward do I plunge,
after running prey both too old and, oh so young…
or with stealth and deadly silence will I ascend
to bring a scavengers end to the rodent kings.
Yet, will I lead you on to glory?
Or claim to tell a different story?
Ah yes, I may..as I am wise.
Leave this life, release your ties!
Athene awaits my return,
Fly with me, see, learn!
Last cuddling, she tired to besiege the intense in vain,
Caged parrot still repeating his hobby-horse of eternal matrimony,
Sealed paper, journey of no timing, oh! King you bereaved and unleashed acrimony,
Prickled his sword, stared beyond her eye balls, full of anxious veins exhibiting pain.
Boundary end, where wind sweep sand, she bade farewell,
Simmered, he turned and smiled, I will be back,
Fate unravelled itself, the gods must be on the wrong tack,
Wait I must, as far aging left reasonable days as well.
Years past, the wind whizzed west without echoes of victory or loss,
Lonely, the porch knows, as a wilful face came buzzing around,
Tempting, she must flee, but pale skin no friend of her, his return she toss,
Went away raptured, few days, the church bell jingled a merry sound.
Captured in war and released, surfaced he on the wedding day,
Patience must not be obsess with time, on her finger another ring lay.
COLD NIGHTS IN PARIS ( Monsieur L'vampyre)
There's never been another dark on earth
quite like the dark of Paris under snow,
where love, it comes and goes, for what it's worth,
and no demands are made, when time to go.
Where lovers slip into the hiding night,
oblivious to cold or freezing rain,
anticipating love, that surely might
warm up their lives for just a night, again.
And love's a little warmer, from the cold;
it makes two hearts to join and keep a beat;
and warms the lives of both the young and old,
who find their love with-in their body heat.
Though easy comes the love--they hold it dear,
without it cold is something they would fear.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
(continueing the Monsieur L'Vampyre adventure)
THE DEATH OF MADAMOISELLE duPONT
Dear Stella, up the path, into the park,
deep shadows hide the trees along the Seine,
the quiet of the night accents the dark
and you can feel your breathing now and then.
The peaceful gloom, enveloped by a mist,
all black and gray and shades of morbid white,
accentuates the place your eyes have missed,
where someone waits, who's watched you every night.
This place, where gendarmes warn to be aware,
tonight is more foreboding than you've known,
and so you pause; you look; is someone there?
it's then you realize, you are alone.
The snapping of your heels you hear increase,
as if the hurry puts your mind at peace.
Engulfed, the path leads up and from the Seine,
and then you'll be out of this narrow pit,
but suddenly you feel the eyes again,
much closer than a glove too small to fit.
You struggle with your thinking, in a word,
to flee or just pretend no one is there,
and so you hum a tune you've never heard,
and place your safety in your mother's prayer.
Oh, Stella, Stella, in the spring you'll wed,
your sweet Gaston. Believe he's at your side,
and you will laugh at all this gloom and dread...
though courage might have found you, it has lied.
The shadows all are moving; you can hear
the groaning of someone who's all too near.
The quiet; crickets sounding no alarm,
but now a drizzle rain cools at your heat,
and tingles flowing down onto your arm
remind you of the friends you'll never meet;
quite suddenly, he's grabbed you from behind,
and muffles any sound you might have found,
you cannot scream, to hurt is in your mind,
but he's too quick, he's pinned you to the ground.
Who is this thing, your lover or your friend,
you might have pained...why does he want you dead?
or is this just someone who brings the end,
you've never known, with killing in his head?
You feel no teardrops, feel no blood nor fright,
there's only blinding, blinding, blinding light....
© ron Wilson aka Veebdosa the Doylestown poet
That’s not my elephant, officer, though she is pink.
She is right in front of your vehicle sir, I think.
Not too big, but not too small, her name is Ella.
I would say she likes to carry her pink umbrella.
I bet those second graders can see her just fine.
Yes, officer, I bet that they never drank any wine.
So to say, she is not there, will start some fights.
So remember that my faith is in the bill of rights.
She dances so fine around, around over the lot.
Upon tips of her toes, she cannot smoke pot.
However, she can eat spaghetti, with meatballs hot,
She loves to slurp, and swing the noodles in trot.
Don’t you see her now, over on top of that car?
Well, sir, you’re under arrest, you’ve gone too far.
Sponsor Matt Caliri
Contest Name That's Not My Elephant
I ran through the forest,
Looking for a sign,
Searching for the closest,
The closest one to find.
I walked across the desert,
Looking for a shady place,
With no one to alert
Me, to tell me i would never find a trace.
I swam across the ocean,
Looking for a piece of land,
Land that didn't follow the ocean's motion,
Swimming harder than I ever ran.
In the end, I didn't find that sign, or that shady place, or that land in the sea.
Instead, I found all three.
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
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
To Trundle Beach we turn to find our fun
with fam'ly on vacation ev'ry June.
Relaxing, romping, ready for some sun,
we traipse the trails with youngsters before noon
then nestle down for babys' naptime croon.
We find the time for each of our four boys,
yet treasure time alone, a honeymoon.
It's tough adjusting to the constant noise.
When adolescents share their digi-toys
we feel our age; they show us how to text.
No way we can compete with cyber joys.
We've pondered year by year, "What can come next?"
When June has passed and gone, we beg for rest
with mixed emotions, we leave Trundle blessed.
9 - 10
A WOODLAND PATH IN THE DAPPLED SUN
HUSHED AND QUIET..
where do lead?
shall I follow you
or stop and return;
there is no choice,
the past is gone,
the flowers dead
where go you lead!
your beauty brings delight,
each step is life
in vibrant hue;
there is no choice
but,to follow you
I know not where these footsteps lead
'neath leaf,in petalled flower seed
brian strand a woodland path contest june 6
- "Lord Mortimer! The fish you kept in mouth
became a symbol by rejected dames
the knights who scorned thy trout were blokes uncouth
to sword and joust thus they are challenged, games.
The fish that carefully defined your pride
to object turned of mockery and sneer;
Lord Gilbert who implied this apartheid
escorted kind some playful Londoneer!
And in the gardens of Eastcotts they walked;
Lord Gilbert softly had recited verse
'bout cookie-cutter sharks that blue sheep flocked,
her aoristic feelings to coerce.
The dame advanced his brilliancy to heights,
where verses hymned the longest lance joust fights."
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?
I can see?
You do to!
I think we’ve all been twirled,
All the way into another world!
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2006
YOUR FAIR WEATHER FRIEND
Together we should sail uncharted sea
so if our ship is dashed on rocky slate,
we have no fear, but know that one of we
remains afloat, to save us from our fate!
And I would have you tredging at my side
if where I go is dark, through jungles deep,
so I'll be confident, although implied,
and not to worry much, when I should sleep;
But when I'm home, my fond and greatest need
is just to not be bothered by your kind
if you are diff'rent than what's from my seed,
then I'd not have you there, for me to find.
So if my sails are set where charts have shown
you sail your way, and I will sail my own!
The thunder that rumbles this day
Fills with excitment, who can say
Each snap of electricity
Reminds me of the trinity
Many say it does not exist
Fools, why do you think you persist?
Chose to live with ignorant bliss
End result will be the abyss
Rainbow shinning shows you a path
You can find it if you use math
Talking to the whole human class
This is knowledge one must amass
Another flash to jolt the heart
Let this give you a place to start
“Sweetheart of P. S.” I am, she proclaimed.
And this she stated when her membership was new.
“Who is this poet that to us had exclaimed?”
It was time to check her profile without adieu.
This self-declared sweetheart had credential.
Could she? Would she? Shall she really be?
The “Sweetheart of P. S.” became quintessential.
She captured poet's hearts with friendships spree.
She took us on vacations and adventures.
Commented on our work flamboyantly.
Encouraged and loved us each without censures.
Can you guess who she became, subsequently?
Yes! Linda-Marie Barriana, “The Sweetheart of P.S.”
A Poetess extraordinaire as she proclaimed…Success!
© Dane Smith-Johnsen
September 15, 2010
As technology has progressed , bound leaps ,
within the nanny state , Man simply sleeps .
Replaced Automatic ; Manual Labour.
Solved by Machine mind's , Binary No more .
For synthetic constructs for your whim , creeps
pumping cheese-its into bulging wheeze heaps.
So keep That lard thru blood , spotless , can ignore
such irritations as ; Clearing the floor .
While Digital duty serves ; watch those beeps
streaming 24/7 fiction keeps
sake in sight , forms pixel ; away those flaws
by Avatar's dream , away life's true claws.
While around , leashed , the world quietly leaps ,
Attended by metal hands ; Left
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
MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE Return To Hell
Tonight love flies from where love never seems
to occupy, it comes from time somewhere,
and long ago, from emptiness of dreams
you've long forgot, but they are steaming there
deep in the night, from where I've spread my wings
and fly into your life in need of me
but be aware, sometimes my love it stings
upon your neck but sets your spirit free;
and then we fly through all of time and space
into the mist that's lifting cool and blue
back to the forests long burned by the race
straight to the heart of love that bothers you;
and you will love me like you've loved before
when you were someone else demanding more.
Take wing my love! There's naught your heart should fear
It's just like deja vu or times gone by
look deep into your death--love will appear
your love will never let your spirit die
and all are just as undead as I've been,
the only difference is you you come and go,
while dying as you have I've never seen
nor had the peace of mind the dead all know.
but love is constant in my life and heart
demanding blood be pumping through my vein
and when you feel my bite you'll be a part
of everything I've ever been, again.
Yes you have lived before and loved too well
and that's the price you pay to live in Hell.
Great is the day when a song you hear.
It makes your spirit soar through wind.
Great is the day when your time begins.
It makes you wake up and hoot a cheer.
Great is the day when it is a new year.
It makes you back to where you been.
Great is the day to manage a few grins.
It will put you into another hemisphere.
Great is the day just to be,
A part of a world that sings!
Great is the day just to see,
A wondrous mix of things!
Great is the day,
Is all I can say!
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2006
I LOVE YOU, DEATH
I love you death, and welcome all you're not;
no love, no hate, no failing and no gain,
no fighting for the things we haven't got
nor wondering about our latest pain.
Your mercy is a thing I surely bless
anticipating you, my only friend,
who brings conclusion to all wretchedness
the only one who knows us in the end.
So come you now as I help you along
you know you've tried to get me in the past
but now I know your timing is not wrong
and so I live and breath for you at last.
Your nothingness is what I hunger for
and in your end, I pray there's nothing more.
© ron wilson
Today I walked the lake the wrong way round
and seeing such, the world seemed upside down.
What once was on the left was on the right
and shadows fell where once there was sunlight.
Agape, aghast and tipsy, I did toddle
all befuddled, as I dawdled, round the puddle.
Seeing sights I never thought I’d see,
meeting folks who walked a ways with me.
What a miracle, what sheer delight
to find some changes bring happiness not fright.
To find so much of what we see is mere impression
of how we walk, with whom and our discretion.
But, Widdershins* is the way I walk round
seems my right side up’s your upside down!
*To move 'widdershins' is to go anti-clockwise, or against the sun.
I must build a shelter, to fight off the cold.
A rugged fortress lest poachers return –
My bloody blazer, now, filthy fivefold!
I am shivering cold; fire won’t burn.
I stealthily creep seeking higher ground.
With every fear a worn mind can churn,
I crawl beneath some trees; more wood is found.
Two bundles, brushwood: birch twigs, logs, to burn.
I build a warm blaze upon the bare earth.
Then, cook up some vittles: vermin and fern.
While feeding my hunger, I loosen my girth.
Then, see a mineshaft; my hope starts to yearn.
Distantly hidden, completely unmanned.
Through the north woods I come, my bow in hand.
An April morning, as the climbing sun
tipped up in sight, and lit the coming day
and colored red, after a storm was done,
I cast my plug, a stinger--red and gray
to where it looked the likely place to me,
where hides the hog--from minnows swimming by;
then feeds upon those minnows, carelessly,
as pops the sun into the morning sky.
Upon the water, mirrored flat and still,
I raise the wake, so slight--then let it lay;
and cranking in, so slowly then until
I hear the chomp--that warns he's set to play!
And all the minnows cheer me in my quest
of battle with my most unwilling guest!
© ron wilson (aka Vee Bdosa)
Though days are long and nights longer by far,
and seconds pass while hours slip slowly by;
I glimpse the long gone past through door ajar
to those golden moments my spirit flies.
Hand in hand loosely locked we two glide
o'er pebbled paths and rutted rambling roads;
no draconic vision belays our stride
for in our hearts there sings a ribald ode.
Of Artur and his lovely Guinevere,
ensconced in castle, turret's flags unfurled;
who boldly bask inside the glow and glare,
all round this cameo the conscience curls.
Oh, let all mankind gallantly aspire,
to these lofty heights above man's desire.
Bellowing aloud until my very last breath
Fluid flowing from my pen until my death
Considered this I have for most of my life
The choice that is made will indeed bring strife
Because liberty and freedom costs a price
Now I am ready to roll the dice
The fear of what could be lost does not compare
It is for that in which could be gained I dare
There is justice and there is injustice
What I have come to realize is just this
Who makes that determination if not us
Selfish and misguided leaders I do not trust
The Spirit of my will forever exists
No matter what comes the dawn I will resist
It approaches from the West this slow moving storm
Also moving East for it is in free form
Smelt in the air long before its arrival
Liberty and freedom fight for survival
Storms of nature destroy all things in their path
Yet this storm brings another type of wrath
Stating that "We The People" you do not own
Just because you believe you sit on a throne
This opposing force not nature course
Looking to feed upon another source
Winds do begin to beat sand upon the stone
These are the seeds that our leaders have sown
Though darkness has ruled many a day and a night
That which is right shall be4 brought out in the light
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
Waiting once more for the wonders at dawn,
a tired, empty muse paces the lawn
struck dumb by notions refusing to spawn.
With nothing to prompt, she sneaks up the stair.
Some twenty young bards enroute along there
went searching but found her out like a bear.
Two run a race, three take pets for a stroll,
four watch a mare giving birth to a foal,
two quarrel and bicker, one chased a mole.
One cleaned the house for a friend who is ill.
three read the Bible; one cooked on the grill;
two trumpeters rehearsed their latest drill.
Who needs a muse? Be amused, seize your day!
Embrace moments, then write the night away.
a rea(sonnet) created by Reason A. Poteet
similar to Keats' sonnets with four tercets and a couplet.
I have used monorhyme for each tercet/couplet.
So stirs the heart of man, the great delight,
to raise a banner high, the march of fate;
to lead the way, where only dark of night,
might find a way to quench the thirst for hate;
and lessor men will follow any call,
of self appointed leaders of the day,
the good, the bad, the dead, but butchers all,
one crowned in might, the other in decay!
To follow is the way, if wrong or right,
determined by the one who stands at last,
we hold this judgement, as if heaven might
just comprehend the end that binds us fast.
and when we see it come around once more,
all wonder is what leads us on to war???
ron wilson (aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet)
O mighty ship of tides, great boundless sea,
Into whom brave souls all caution cast her:
Deep eternal springs of mortality
Where Poseidon rules as lord and master!
See the battery smoke, the powder lighting,
The buckling oak, the breach, the ocean's roar:
Empire's keel and hull wave high smiting
The heroic galleon! the Man O' War!
So seek a fair wind all you seafarers,
Sail beyond her far isles all you brave hearts:
Heed Triton's trumpet by your endeavours
When upon the bow of her deepest parts.
Thus hearken not the sirens that curse whom
Rest in peace in a silent sunken tomb.
There is a darkenss that has befallen
One cannot see all that which is within
Coming from a deep pit within the stomach
It's presense once felt becomes atomic
Emotions not felt, you irrelevant
Once being told you are heaven sent
Left wounded from the slice of this dagger
Telling you that you no longer matter
Fear and panic begin to take over
A weight placed upon chest as though boulder
Slow the heartbeat as though little life left
Overwhelming feelings as it is death
Death to the possible and the could be
Being told by one this will set you free
Every second passes by me unseen
But I can feel the weight of one minute
After each hour my mind becomes keen:
That these days are adding up bit by bit.
Each week my personality alters
A year goes by and my mind starts to twist
Decades pass and it seems as time falters,
My mentality gets lost in time’s mist.
Yet when I am with you the clock stands still
If only I could exploit these feelings
I could stop the sands of time at my will
But I’m not capable of these dealings
Time now steals what I already forgot
My mind starts to fade but our love will not
The great upper mid west
Minnesota put to the test
Ten thousand lakes and streams
Reality for many who like to dream
From Itasca state park
To the Louisiaina's wooden bark
The mighty Mississippi flows
Gently down the outcrop she goes
Crime rates are always's on the rise
But really does it come as such a surprise
Everyone seems to like to hug
Except when its a mosquito bug
So many call us Minnesota Nice
But some still say were Cold as Ice
Make a bold start
With easy feel;
Let steady heart
Fling love that heals.
Let mind reveal
A pattern here;
Feel what you feel
With thought sincere.
Joy dwells with peace
If you but see;
Zest knows with ease
Truth and beauty.
Live love that grows
In time, it shows.
30 July 2014
My void is the darkest penetration of childhood.
No memory at all before age of six so fair.
Thine memories might have been bad or good.
Mine has no glimpses, or comparison to share.
Thou shall say this may be a blessing so sweet.
Though my mind has no distinct recall to meet,
No shape of any kind, only fantasy for retreat.
Whilst I travel onward, I am lost in defeat.
My darkest childhood memory is none at all.
Mystery of things I have missed or recall.
I live on in the shadows that make me whole.
I waver on the balance of what does console.
This mind and soul with a spirit that will seek,
Diligently answers for future, my past is weak.
Sponsor Walayee Whitlock
Contest Name My Darkest Childhood Memory
The streets of, Hong Kong, are bustling this fine morning
Out for tea, noodles, a tattoo, and lots of beer
Luckily, the ship was put to pier side mooring
Dropping my laundry at, The Fleet, I have light gear
In a café, I sip and slurp, while bird watching
Lines of gorgeous cages, sagging above my head
To, Ricky’s Tattoo, through the human mass swimming
Morn, I awake hung over and bandaged in bed
In the shower, I inspect my new dragon
Below in berthing, I adorn my crackerjacks
Up topside for morning quarterdeck watch, I’m on
Spend my time watching the seagulls hover the stacks
Another great port of call in the China Sea
City of Victoria, a fine place to be
© Copyrights G. Jones 2008
This is another in my Sailor Sonnet Series.
That small but a mighty house. Wh're you once lived & gone, Built upon the mountains high. Left for a generations yet unborn. How long would it lingers us far too off. To know the labour of our heroes past. shall not be in vain or aloof. If it were not for your lased eyes. Piercing the psychic of the coming years like an eagles descryings. Would your name brought about this future.That everyone who had come in the lemmings. Would rather die with emeaba on their lipsture. That teeming & bustling house. No one seemed to care but carried off by gloats.
Tears falling like rain drops
Agony pinching at my heart
A wailing cry, deepening sobs
All because I loved you from the start
Ever since that rainy day
Your smile made feel like a spring's flower
Your laughter warmed me like summer may
Your touch stilled me like winter's shower
Then to tell you how I feel, and make Love complete
Was like running to a cliff's edge
'Cause I loved you so much I'd rather love you in secret
Than to have lost you in an amiss instead
You were my friend I grew fond of for your beauty and your fault
Now a stranger you've become because it was your Love that I sought
Change styles a face,
One at a time;
Now seize the space,
Ask for new chimes;
Note then the strange:
Carved with fine gauge,
Ink fabled range,
Mark ample stage;
Make action pay,
Ever in spoils;
Rise to the day,
Instinct feeds toil;
Attend to plans;
Notice sure span.
25 August 2014
THE MOON HANKERS
Though none can comfort me, nor sage, nor oak
Nor heart of bronze made in a silver hoop
With gem encrusted golden rod to poke
Out my eyes in mystery’s final scoop -
Flanged with crimson, dreaming the polite
And suave boulvardiers of a nation
To feel myself what precious little light
Man’s first step has had upon my station -
I’d seek you out, you sapphire of the seam
Until you’d say I’d swallow back the sea -
How like a comfortless queen I’d deem
Myself as such heaven bent to me,
Leaving me lonely in the western sky
Beckoning you hither for eternity.
By Rosemarie Rowley
published IN MEMORY OF HER 2008
Night in the Persian Gulf can be rather eerie
When one steams along the coasts, there are bizarre sights
Giant spires spouting lofty infernos so fiery
It's as if I sail the shores of hell on these nights
The seas part before me in phosphorescent curl
Menacing gun boats prowl the watery darkness
In the masts, shifting albatross silently whirl
Strolling the bridge, my coffee cup provides me warmth
My mind occupied by sweet my girl back at home
Counting the days until I return to her smile
My thoughts return to a light in the ocean foam
I raise my glasses and judge its distance a mile
I report the unknown contact down to combat
Thoughts returning to her, in the grass we both sat
© Copyrights G. Jones 2008
Born of your blood
Seen once like the eclipse
Powerful among equals
Thy color a symbol of peace
Oh, I remember thy feathers
Worn only by the royal
My father wore it too
Because is royal
Thy off springs called eaglets
Born into plenty
The wildest hunter on earth
Faster than English shoot
Your glories are numerous
And your attack dangerous
Watching the leader through my destroyer’s, Big Eyes
Waiting for signal to execute maneuver
The flashing light comes. “Execute!” my talker cries.
The bridge responds, slowing speed and shifting course
Twenty ships simultaneously make course east
As headings steady, I await the next command
The formation’s wakes clawing the sea like a beast
Another light, I shout the leader’s next demand
These types of close maneuverings, are tricky things
One wrong signal could result in a collision
I rub my eyes, below the engine order rings
Another signal and we dance in precision
Maintaining the columns, we plow, south, south east
All anticipating our next liberty feast
© Copyrights G. Jones 2008
Another in my Sailor Sonnet Series.
we gently pray upon our desire
or maybe our desire preys upon us
recoil in disgust at the muck and mire
only to answer, "what's all the fuss?"
life's joys and private hells undreamt of
scale's fulcrum tipping the balance of power
recoiling from the pain of our own love
and the similarity of "devout" and "devour"
Pavlovian, we turn to the bell ringing
for a scrap of nourishment or tender care
too often to find indifference stinging
is all that others have offered there
how can we anthologize a life
without including a rhyming of strife?
© Goode Guy 2012-02-03
There was once a tale time could only tell
To be made and unmade, all souls cannot hide
From distant hands that cast a greater spell
All life and all death in us has to confide
Seasons bring memories to our minds undimmed
Blessed to the day, sacred to the night
Every end to every end, all humans skimmed
Across time and space, foresaid by plight
Many among us has long lived enough to allay
What has consumed our eyes to defy the vow
And expressions, adjourned, as if to say
If only you can see what we all see now
So long as we all can live with liberty...
So long we live somewhere beyond eternity...
THE FALL OF ATHENS
Let all the wrath, unmercifully divine,
we have to muster, lead us in our quest,
and bring Athenian rule to be in line,
as sure the gods provide they fail the test,
all in our time, for Lacedaemon rules,
have we not made of man the equal to
the sight of death, upon the plights of fools
resisting all the means that we can do?
Their setting sun has risen in the east,
before the dark, those left will have to burn,
their knowledge is their fat, and only feast,
for all they know, they've yet to ever learn!
Now let the blood to flow down from the hill,
as if the flood has come and made the kill.
© ron wilson
Seeing as how Georgia has mountains
That rise above the beautiful coast
Mountains gather snow some winter morns
Helen is quietly nestled there
Gold was found in those hills long ago
Still being mined today in Dalton
The blasts are felt at night__slight rumble
Gold awaits__the huge vein there they say
Down at coast awaits a day of play
Fun in the sun or boat ride on marsh
See the Dolphins greeting dance at river
Savannah Beach for a day or stay
Georgia has variety mountains high
Coastal plains____I can not complain
Riding on my horse,
There seemed to be no endless.
To the endless dry valleys,
And upon them the thirsty sand.
Inside my heart I found hope,
When far away I saw a civilisation.
Om my dried lips came a smile,
By finding hope after travelling a hundred mile.
In excitement I pulled the horse harness,
Because inside myself I felt the hurry.
To reach the town fast,
And get rid of my body pains and all worry.
But all my happiness came to a halt,
When some men came in my way.
Their attire resembled decoits,
And one of them had some thing to say.
Taking out a knife from his pocket,
He asked me from where I had come from?
After seeing the knife I was taken aback,
But made full use of the dust storm.
While the storm was on,
I took out my hidden pistol.
And pointed it to the man,
But I was too late because he towards me ran.
My heart thumped as the knife came closer,
I closed my eyes and took a breath.
But in my ear I felt a shrill,
Which I realised was the man's death.
In front of me stood the sheriff,
Along with his riffle.
But the adventure was not yet over,
As there stood the other men for whom we were too clever.
I stood on my foot a and went to the sheriff,
And asked him about himself and the town.
He named the town as Rotgut,
And told me the story how he achieved the bravery crown.
Later we together defeated all other,
Strong or weak enemies.
And I became a part among the people,
Who were friendly and religiously equal.
Those steep, tiring hills going home, I had been in town
bought a new kitchen sink, the second one in forty years,
nothing lasts, that’s how traders make their ill-gotten
gains. My car was exhausted trailing smoke, to lighten
its burden I alighted walked in front as it followed me
slowly. On a flat stretch it teasingly overtook and drove
in front of me and down a track into a deep ravine where
feral donkeys live and run unlicensed garages I wasn’t in
the mood to play “follow the leader,” so I walked home
past wayside bars where cars guzzled Brazilian cane fuel
and flashed their indicators, I ignored this depravity and
hasted away. Midnight, when my car pulled up outside,
it had lost the kitchen-sink and was splattered in manure
of the long eared members of the horse family.
Irene was the American girl,
the only pretty one I should have based my romantic story on;
and that story is still unwritten...
not having been able to forget the rejection that turned into pain.
Two bright and respectful kids we were,
growing up with Bob Dylan's intellectual poetry,
but mine was the waltz of a beautiful song...
with the words of the truest love I had ever written.
Brown and blue eyes would have made green eyes,
blonde and brown hair would have made auburn hair;
nothing but the handsomest boy or even the prettiest girl...
for us to love and proudly share for many happy years ahead.
But who has been your darling since then?
Have you found tenderness in that man?
Held within these hallowed bones, a tempest
Surging in the complicity of night
Dreams and thoughts solidified cease to rest
Sealed fate and ardor no longer hold right
But what force havocs through the human form
Rallying support, red-handed, inflamed
Bloodied and raged it beckons the storm
Searching my want it liberates and maims
Ceasing the nihilism once alit inside
Splinters and fragments partner, I awake
Aware that being lost is proof of life
Resolve, once muted, no longer at stake
For now, I lie, held within my own war
Awed and breathless, I await whats in store.
The glass of those large blue eyes cooled the spirit
The morning light streamed through stained glass
Windows streamed golden rays glittered with dust
She coccooned like a precious jewel in a casket
Eloquent flute love songs leaking from the woods
Enchanting hedge of mist Sweet smoke of bonfires
Feasting dancing God and Godess sacrifice of love
Hair in braids picking blueberries playing in woods
Moss-covered trees roots sunk deep in the earth
Wind through leaves whispered of ancient mysteries
The solemn towering circle of huge standing stones
Midsummer jewelled cup of life and harvest cheer
Spearshaft carved with runes Hoofbeats on stone
The setting sun imbued his skin with a red coral hue
My darling you are my lover divine
Swimming in our desires, we thrive.
Capturing affection in all, we are alive.
Our passion glows in dark so fine.
With lights out, candles lit, and wine.
We finish our passion; just before five.
For afterward, we shall not survive.
We have both traveled, across the line.
Both trapped in previous engagements apart.
Each other married to another, but not in love.
Our infatuation will end this night forever more.
This adventure ends; our ecstasy shall depart.
All recollection of our dreams to be disposed of,
I shall never forget, our first night at the shore.
We were three, though unequal but warriors
Like the herdsmen we were
A glance tells of Our Genesis
All bound in one future
On our way came ghosts white
Scepter they posed
Extorting and painting us white
Suddenly we woke, we the warriors
In extricate we intricate
Till they went as they came
Our dreams climaxed in one faith
Far not from there, one said to another
Thou are a ghost
What I heard was groans, our fate I know not.
I had to figure all of you out you know.
I grabbed a shaded glimpse here and I got one there.
I saw this and I saw that and nothing was fair.
But now it was time for me to go.
Glimpses of shade and sparks of light,
Together we made a blazing baffling trail.
Night became day and day became night.
It was an endless circle making me way too frail.
But I journeyed on because I just had to figure you all out.
There were clues everywhere, even in the breeziest air.
I danced the nights away and left the Stars succumbed in doubt.
I stood on top of the Moon and was left stranded in the Sun’s care.
I floated inside of clouds and kissed the lightning shot by shots.
One by one, I gathered a million handfuls of your many forget me nots.
®Registered: Ann Rich 2006
Hear my voice loud and clear: Carpe diem! Embrace
The day! Leave your chambers, step into the light,
The light of spring that shines on thy face,
The light extinguished by no earthly might!
Carpe diem! Embrace this day! The only day
That you will know! Leave your chairs, touch the grass,
The only grass that will grow! Smell the hay,
The hay that will feed the lowing mass.
Carpe diem! Stop your cars on the shoulder
And run into the fields with the deer and fox;
Count every chestnut, leaf, and boulder,
Away be thrown your schedules, your clocks!
Carpe diem! Embrace your day! The only day,
The waning day, in which we all shortly stay.
THE DEATH OF TUTANKHAMEN Part VI.
How old are you--young man--why do you stare?
The world awaits for you to raise your soul--
though fettered to the wind--and ev'rywhere,
in time a dream will make you free and whole--
to walk again--the Valley of the Kings
and ride upon the waters of the Nile--
where spirits bathe, and Nephritite sings,
the secrets of the past--for yet a while,
the world is obdurate of any scheme,
that brings new life--once death has made its' call
though greater men than you--have known this dream,
not one still hides behind his secret wall--
and no remains--stay hidden to the past--
if golden chains are known to hold them fast.
© Ron wilson aka vee bdosa
I’m out of my mind but I am just perfect and just fine.
I went around the world and what a blast it was for me.
I’m sent with a message from a golden gate master key.
I shook I rattled and I rolled brand new maps I did align.
I founded you and I demolished you but swam like a fish in line.
I ran to and fro as I was left behind thrown forward but I did see.
It is a global trot I tell you to survive naked or dressed just to be.
And then it came to be true and real that this was mine all mine.
So I sit in the seat with no defeat.
The world goes stupid and so mad,
But I stay clean and of course neat,
It’s just a silly little one time life fad.
Pain and suffering has just about killed me and you,
Together or apart it is a world we will always renew!
®Registered: Ann Rich 2009
Fabled proud towers across the Aegean
Sheer walls never breached;
From far-off Hellas rarely seen
Till by the angry Greeks full-reached.
Burnt and humbled, a culture erased.
After ten years the city strong-walled
Was obliterated, washed away, effaced -
And history was appalled.
So also the Atlantis, Cumorah,and Inca delirium
Drowned in the flow of time,
Killed in their flowering, like Illium :
Such cultural perfection sublime.
The tide of history washes and cleans
Leaving no trace of stillborn might-have-beens
The end may become a beginning,
to go away can be to arrive,
life,as nature has its seasons,
sometimes short bit oftimes long;
To sense the aroma of change,
to experiment a new attire,
walking without a map,
Th past,as yesterday,will ever be
remembered,blessed,but filed away,
a stage,a stepping stone
a springboard to another day.
Today is done,tomorrow will be
a future advnture,rests with thee.
I put up the barriers and molded the Great White Stone.
I searched all written doctrines that embodied my light.
It was a remarkable journey let me tell you of my flight.
I even went through DNA of every strand of every bone.
I matched all the genetic linage to kind energies ingrown.
It was like an open door after door where all turns bright.
The misplacement that followed is truly way out of sight.
Seeing it all made me search my truth and I wasn’t alone.
I felt like I am the only one.
There was just me to believe.
There was too much undone.
More than humans conceive.
This was an origin unknown and not of this world.
This is timeless intelligence appropriately swirled.
So many empty spaces with cracked dimensions as stardust flew by.
So I counted to ten and held my breath knowing this would just never end.
At every angle there was a gap so I tagged them all with messages to send.
I stepped through portals leading me to places orbiting way too high.
I passed through broken dreams and landed where the Sun never shined.
No Moon, no Stars, and no galaxies were straight, much less aligned.
The Earth had gone completely berserk and the seasons were sudden to change.
It was the gap warping time and even the people looked far beyond strange.
I listened to faint vibrations and watched galaxies as they all weakened.
Time was lost and gone forever, for they had all been forewarned and told.
I found a spot and planted the last starlight and watched closely as it strengthened.
It grew and grew even withering through the hot and cold.
Shooting through portals I spread my light and left it a sparkling trail.
Ray by ray a beam filled the gap and lit it up by my new starlight’s flaming tail.
®Registered: Ann Rich 2005
MOUNT YOUR PEGASUS
To stay forever beautiful and young
and ride across the windows of the sky
on wings of Pegasus, of which is sung
the merry nine of Zeus, who never die;
their words are flowing still, from every heart
who writes a rhyme or reason with the pen,
perchance to shape the world, or be a part
of what tomorrow testifies was then.
In all of time, the poets take the lead,
of where the world must go, it's in our hands,
and Zeus still loves his daughters in their need
as sure as every poet understands.
Once mounted, Pegasus must take to wing
and every Muse must ride along and sing!
Whisper sent form hallowed shore
Ancient breath of love and lore
In the tongue a silent hope
Gathers near an ancient rope
Hung from stars to sea-bound men
Plucked from foxhole, cave, and glen
Break from clay, a foolish turn
To quench the thirsting heart of yearn
Beyond the grasp of mortal man
Knows no end, yet here it stand
Endless beacon by a name
Reputation: human bane
Cursed crucible remain
Tattered tie in blood is stained
A creative mix of oil and blood,
for it only matters whats under the hood.
And the smell of gas,
and the smell is good.
Eight pistons tunring,
the rich fuel burning.
The need to race,
the urge thats churning.
The stretch of open road,
to only go fast, I make an ode.
The acceleration that stops,
the blood that once flowed.
Driving is not a sin,
it just shows where I've been.
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!
And newer days we are all looking at!
© Copyright Ann Rich 2006
Once upon a time, a prophecy long foretold
of a child who would bring forth prosperity.
She would be of meager birth with hair of gold.
At six and ten the magus did find, Felicity.
“A quest my dear you must partake,
perilless though it might be.”
For the sake of her country she will undertake.
Her journey she begins, “My people will be free.”
Goblins are first to bugger her,
Not far behind were trolls.
Followed by 10 foot Ogres but fear not,
she knew they were just hungry so she fed them some rolls.
Through deadly swamps and treacherous mountains she fought the cursed
In the end Felicity freed her people, hungry now, food was all she wished.
The crisp cool wind is blowing in my face
Kenny G blowing “forever in love”
In my ears while trying to keep a pace
The blue, cloudless sky looming high above
Me only enhance my recurrent ride
To Sand Island, a very special place
Where all worldly problems are set aside
Awhile and “I” is the objective case
Yes! It’s all about me during this ride:
Pedaling, sightseeing and elation
These of which can not at all be denied
Me. Upon reaching my island mission
I’m Inspired enough to write this sonnet
About a special day I’ll not forget.
The meandering beaten path in front
Of me guides my way through a host of trees.
Some I identify but most I don’t
Have a clue as to their names. Just the breeze
In my face, the earth-colored foliage,
The fauna scampering in front of me,
And birds singing from branches, all upstage
My intruding presence. My mp3
Playing Kenny G songs along the way:
Love songs mostly but it doesn’t matter
I’m in love everyday, more so today.
I love god, wife and nature, all concur
And reciprocate. This is my heaven
In a very special place: Sand Island.
Prime purpose steers the cause you forge;
Respect the voice that calmly speaks;
Express the cheer that floods fond lodge;
Live steadfast choice in surge and peak;
Unzip your purse when goodness fills;
Do love bold heart that seems so blind;
Explore outburst when soul reveals.
Enter sure start with grace in kind;
Claim peace of mind despite the odds;
Sense comedy in tragedy;
Trust swift and kind true love that plods;
Allow beauty sure fantasy;
Success you see is just a play;
You cannot be more than brief stay.
12 July 2014
To Gooney Birds
Shifting palm trees in sandy beach sunshine
Guard an immortal violet-blue lagoon
Gooney birds beg and dance all in a line
When they land it’s like watching a cartoon
As the ship is being refueled at pier
Steaks and beer on the beach with these strange birds
An island oasis it would appear
What I observed was truly beyond words
Sailors in various degrees of dress
Being chased and attacked by vicious foul
While steaks burned with cold beer we couldn’t care less
By sunset my shipmates began to howl
A bizarre lay over as you have read
We left at sunrise all with aching head
Memories of a lonely sailor on liberty.
A swift flash of the wrist, "Eight ball corner."
Fresh brew, another cigarette, "Who's next?"
A little chalk, another new comer
Long drink, a fast break, the balls write the text
"Hey! Jam a couple quarters in the box!"
"Play some rhythm and blues for my soul."
Choose my prey from the alone, like a fox
"Rack ‘em up sucker, open your billfold."
”Another for my new friend. What's your name?"
Beer's good, game on the tube, bartender is nice
Passing the time by being in the game
Four ball in the side, "Gonna bank it twice."
A night on Hotel Street, in paradise
The most safe harbor for those of despise
To the Signalmen of the Watch
She is cool gray steel, slicing darkest sea.
Crewed by crazed youngsters, both man and woman.
Quiet and deadly, in following seas, free.
No light above, but the Moon and Orion.
Coffee, cigarette, red night lights aglow,
I, reading Conrad, lookouts are all set.
Only sounds of the sea and radio,
always watchful for contacts to be met.
She patrols her night box for rouge raiders.
Giant turbines in her belly turn with snap.
The night cook prepares mid watch cheese sliders.
Chaplain says night prayer, Boats plays taps.
She was built for fast work anytime or place.
I sit on watch, red light bathing my face.
O’ Father, O’ dear Father, What do you know about God?
Please explain to me why do you have or I need my faith?
Where he lives in a hell or heaven why human has a myth?
Is he a Merciful, forgiveness or a kind-hearted Lord?
You have blessings and prayer, you know worshiping method,
Please explain me, why we need worshipping in what image?
A portrait, statue, wind, light, fire or a planet what range?
Is he a human, bird, animal or insect what colour of blood?
Why do I born human, why I having a struggle for rights?
Why am I against dictatorship if God is only superb?
Why human has different nature and fight for high heights.
Why is only human controlling why n’t animal deserve?
Hell is better or heaven, why is earth suffering for fights?
When I fall sick, what is a meaning of a best herb?
Like a huge serpent, its mouth opened wide
at dawn we approached, through fisher and boat
Slowly we entered a world with tide
the West had not seen, Siam’s royal coat
The smell of incense and sweet mossy shore
Beautifully adorned golden temples shine
Large ships moored amid stream both aft and fore
Making slowly for Bangkok, our whites fine.
Entering the crowded harbor we gaze
Anchor let go, the first since WWII
Liberty launch to shore all in amaze
Rushing ashore, things to come, not a clue
The kingdom of Thailand raises her dress
I leave this exotic jewel a mess.
Some days I feel all fine and great, but some days there are just too many
decisions to make.
Some days we’re sad when we would rather be glad. Other days we fight
everyone even the ones we like.
Some days are quiet and our hate just can’t fight it. Most days we’re just tired
and we’re afraid we could get fired!
Some days we’re scared when we should be getting prepared. Some days
we’re spacy like we have been tripping daises.
Some days we’re confused when we would rather be amused. Some days we
lack concentration and everything we heard was mistaken.
Some days we’re full of joy, but by the end of the day this feeling soon
becomes destroyed. Some days we act like a baby crying when everything gets
Some days your friends just aren’t enough and you don’t know who you can
trust. In other words SOME DAYS are better than others.
I clench my fists tightly into a ball,
Hoping that from this daring height i cannot fall,
My inner fear screams to soundless infinity,
My pounding heart remembers past indignity,
My blood rushes to every vein in my brain,
Searching for an unknown i continue the gain,
My face hot with daring exhiliration i pursue,
Hoping for a glance of this breathtaking view,
My inner voice screams to my sensibilities anew,
Pleading with my sanity to not dare my adrenalin filled soul,
However i look down at my fast approaching goal,
And i know without a shadow of doubt,
I will face any adversity to view this bout,
This climax of nature so wonderfully subdued.
Topped with auburn-golden hairs,
she wanders through the thicket wood.
Tugs and hassles with the hood,
of the husky coat she wears,
with not the slightest thoughts or cares.
The snow, it falls, and sets the mood,
for evening’s love, oh! Now she’ll brood.
Alas! An answer to her prayers.
Daily through these woods he seeks,
a girl to love, and hug, and hold.
Across the way, their eyes meet and stand still
for what seems like weeks!
Taken; by one another, they grow old,
upon the windowsill.
Enduring love, an effervescing flame,
Through the open air, we transpire as one.
For all darkness could not, our light, reclaim,
Nor quell our longing, pervading passion.
As our wild love stirs and intensifies,
A wisp of smoke, gives a blissful ascent,
For our great love soars beyond the vast skies -
Quenching desires full of merriment.
Embers suspended in angelic pose,
Giving light that emanates our course.
Slowly flickering, to our ventured close -
Exit, fading to our once begun force.
Leaving, subdued tinder flame aspiring,
Their amorous souls once more are firing.
To lonely sailors
Lines of polyester, a sawbuck fare
My mates, a little tea, my plight set
Smokey guitars scream over bands of hair
Cheap, watered bourbon, endless cigarette
Round perch, watching the watchers, colored lights
Elbow nudge; take the wooden pipe, past on
Back in line, another drink, eye the sites
A new view, another hit, a bad con
Munchies, chili dogs and fries, the night's end
Walking, searching for the ride back to ship
Suspended in a party with no kin
Back in my rack, open eyes slowly slip
A night of liberty, nowhere to go
These times put a lonely sailor down low
To those who keep the seas free
They place themselves board tiny boats at sea,
floating alone, hoping for savior's mast.
Their homes overran by threshing V.C.
We approached, fearful faces were made fast.
Their hungry eyes looking upward for trust,
one by one we hauled them aboard, swing and hoist.
There were women, children, and old men, we must!
A tent city constructed, their tears moist.
We sank their boat when they were safe aboard.
Grenades to the hull and below she sank.
We sailed them to Hong Kong, for free room and board.
Leaving them, we knew for freedom they thank.
People seek out freedom from oppression.
My shipmates and I survive a lesson.
To those who have experienced the first time underway
All preparations made, standing in white
Waves and silent kisses from those who stay
Take in all lines! Whistle’s moan, tug lines bite
A slight movement, at last I’m underway!
Signal flags flutter, channel buoys made
Course set for the open deep blue, watch set
Strike below for chow, movie and the Spades
Watch wake at night’s mid, stars through Big Eyes met
Never before have I gazed such wonder
Unsteady gait acquires legs of the sea
Phosphorous fan parts the night fore yonder
The isle’s tiny lights shine like sparkling trees
My first experience with mother ship
A late night date and she picks up the tip
To those who have had to decide
It was early, that spring morning I fled.
Waving, crying, and mouthing I love you,
Mom and Sis standing there, the tears they shed.
Eighteen, young, naive, and without a clue
I would later learn to miss them badly,
while feeling melancholy on my own.
But now, the bus starting forward slowly,
my heart breaking, leaving them all alone.
I was so overcome with excitement,
not realizing that the life I had known
was now ending with that one commitment.
Nor thought I of the life they faced at home.
A painful decision young men must make,
life, or remain behind for other’s sake
Across the brow and onto gray steel
with awkward salute, for duty I board
Smiles around deck from self perceived Salts peel
Soft the ensign flutters, "Welcome Aboard!"
Below deck I'm pointed to rack and home
A coffin by design, my gear is stowed
Adorned dungarees and white hat, I roam
Hatches and passageways deceive below
An opening, and alas sunlight peeks
Topside, above the bridge, to meet my mates
Every man sighs and gives pause 'fore they speak
The salt air and bright sun make my heart awake
A new sailor aboard with awe and glee
I enter with trust, a new life, the sea.
To big guns and destroyer men
The alarm sounds like a dull clanging bell.
Sailors in their battle gear run for posts.
“Hatches are closed and zebra set!” we yell.
A surprise in store for Iraqi hosts.
The towers rose from the sea like islands.
They were made of steel, rubber, and plastic.
Arab men scrambling to flee in bands,
their boats speeding away, faces frantic
Big guns sound, blazing fire and metal fly,
metal islands reduced to flaming spires.
Retaliation ordered from the sky,
mission complete, we leave ocean afire.
Our first taste of battle went as was planned.
New sea stories to tell when we hit land.