touched the waters
of a spring fed river
She had a special gift to deliver
Releasing the inspiration
from deep within her
She said “ Drink please witness
about saint and sinner.
Surrender your mind
become a true believer.
The line between real and fantasy,
you can make it thinner.”
So with my cupped hands
I began to deeply drink
became a vibrant pink
Thoughts and ideas
were transformed into ink
It was all so fantastic
those things I could think
She said “Write them all down
or they’ll be gone in a blink.”
Not all thoughts were happy
some they made my heart sink.
The more I drank
the more I was elated
Oh how easily
tales of wonder consecrated
Secretly I craved
What was written felt solid
those things I created
Wise, wonderful words
Wanting more and more
I couldn’t be sated
My magical muse
began to worry about me
Who I was
or might soon be
She said “I must share
this burden to set you free”
So next to the river
she planted flowers and trees
Other poets coming
abated my dis ease
She told them “Drink from the river,
as much as you please!
If you don’t I will cause it to freeze.”
Our Muse whispered loudly
“Poets take your words near and far.
Be true kind and vulnerable
let people know who you are.
Hide messages in bottles
Transport people to a distant star
Sing from the rooftops
Tell Limericks in a bar
Poetry is music
play tunes on a guitar
Shine bright like a fire fly
that has escaped from its jar!”
Together we have community
Being with the rare few
Who share our lunacy
The ones able to decipher
these things that we see
For us it’s a river
this place we love to be
Gardens free of enemies
Green grass, rivers and trees
We gather by the shore
like birds and bees
You are welcome to join us
stay for as long as you please!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2018
sheets of silver water
spill incessantly into the lake
beauty before our eyes
beckons us to bathe in radiance
lost in froth
we find ourselves engulfed
by nature’s pulse, shimmering delight
lost in love
my heart is pounding too
falling with the water - into you
Written Oct. 30, 2014
for the SOME FORM OF CRYSTALLINE Contest of nette onclaud
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
Modest woman moderate woman
Your inner beauty strikes me
Like the tongue of noble eloquence
More than gold even refined gold
Or our purged fulgent silver.
Black woman proud woman
Your pride is not haughty
But a humble pride of eaglets;
Your black eyes are so glittering
As the eyes of our dark rivers
Filled with messages of peace
That banish the broody turmoil
From those panting hearts
Of your foreigned offsprings.
Gentle mother diligent mother
Your kindness kindles the fires
Of my heart –
Your dexterity dresses
The table of our ageless history
And the thought of your being
– Oh kind mother! –
Makes the most delicious menu
For my heart.
I remember your naked feet
Fast and fair as a pigeon’s limbs
Treading the invisible paths
Almost covered by shrubs
Small shrubs misted by the prime mist.
I remember the wood from the wood
The water from the water
And manifold items from jungle alleys
Borne by your delicate hands
And upon your soft black-haired head.
I remember the constant match
To markets and to farms
And your bright face smeared with
The ash dust
Making you more beautiful
Than any woman whose feet
Ever touched the naked earth.
I remember those burdens
Upon your cheerful kin-souls
And babies strapped to your backs
Babes full of unspoken words
To unborn others in patient wombs
Waiting in an endless turn –
Indeed, mother is dove!
A black dove and a dark huntress
A hunter’s gift from the maker?
Mother is like a weaver-bird
Building a big foot-like nest
Filled with corn and warmth
A bundle of eagle-flight
Mother is dove
And the hunter calls her
The clan’s eternal dove.
Oh, mother loving woman
Gentle as our black horizon
To you we humbly come
From these far and lonely lands
Hoping to grace our love and beauty
Before that jealous grave
Makes her temporary feast.
Copyright © Canny Amah | Year Posted 2009
To escape sin, I built a glass box around me.
Though sin like water started leaking through the cracks upon me.
Soon the water would consume me.
Forced hand prints scattered inside the glass by me.
Trying to break free of what I built around me.
No one is near to see or help me.
No one to call, to assist or guide me.
Tears accreting to the water wasn't helping me.
The water is slowly getting deeper around me.
The strength is fading away within me.
Please, someone save me!
Oh God, please forgive me!
Thinking I had all the answers to build this glass box around me.
Sin, yet and still captured me.
I need you now Lord please strengthen me.
Eyes closed beneath the water crying out for him to save me.
His voice appears, "Come as you are to me.
You made a decision to consult with yourself without me.
For I am the only way the truth and the light; not you but me.
All the tools you need are provided by me.
I will bring down this glass box only for your life to be with me.
For I make no mistakes because I am me.
I will send you back to be a living witness for me and only me."
Copyright © Pace INK-U-SCRIPT | Year Posted 2012
It took place shortly after and the stage was set
before words before ink before heavenly breath
There was a rain on the parade
of eternal monotony
and the angels were elated
In the Beginning God created... the verse everyone knows
tantalizing phrasing that leaves you on your tip-toes
before grass before plants before earthly foes
And the earth was without form... (and talk about void!)
It was there when it was all lightning and storm:
chaos untamed in watery upheaval,
though the celestial walls were impermeable
Enough disarray to make a grown man weep
And darkness was over the surface of the deep...
It was there before it was given the title: Sea
Before light was birthed with a "Let there be"
Blanketing the earth with cerulean comfort
in preparation for ethereal tickles,
despair happy to take her wings
And the Spirit of God was hovering...
Like a golden eagle dipping down
into azure pools
knowing mountains will soon rise from your depths
... but LOVE is the requisite
... and HOPE is the heart of it
Just like the weather that's about to hit the scene,
before Pangaea performs in emerald green
... and there was morning the Second Day
Can you not hear your doubts just wash away?
---remember what happened on the Third?
I'm sure you do---
As you see Him reaching down with liquid love for you,
longing to invigorate your being
He wants to split you in half
as the Rod of Moshe
made watery walls of crystallization
He longs to enter into your towering trust
(and not just on occasion)
For sometimes the Water of Life is dramatic
Sometimes it's not
And sometimes your fears could use a little irrigation
(right now your eyes could use
a bit of prayerful precipitation)
Remember the ruby water that dripped down
the Face of the Son
that fateful day
Drink it in Become full
Indulge in humble hydration
Your heart will tell you what you should
And behold it was very good...
NOTE: Moshe is the Hebrew rendering of the name Moses.
Written April 2nd, 2016
For the Element Water Contest Hosted by Brian Davey
Six Words Used: Impermeable, Requisite, Invigorate, Crystallization, Precipitation, Hydration
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016
Still shallow waters,
Fish unseen, hugging the brackish bed,
Salt grass and saltwort give ample shade
And shelter from hungry predators
That fly around the insurmountable
Pinnacles of the surrounding hills.
The lad sits quietly on a small wooden pier,
Mulling on thoughts that elevate his soul.
No vale of darkness shall invade his being,
At least not while he rests before the stretch of water.
For there alone he feels at peace.
Indeed the quiescent waters refresh him.
Even the flapping of some solitary sea duck
Will not ruffle his meditative mind.
Suddenly he hears voices and a boat arrives
To end his peaceful stay on the water way.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017
I could smell and sense
the showers coming in the air
with an approaching storm.
I inhale this
light little scent of heaven.
The rain will never dampen my spirits.
No umbrella for me tonight.
But, I don't mind,
I'll walk in the rain.
I savor this
sweet little taste of heaven.
The flavor is cool and refreshing,
with a purity
that is almost indescribable.
It is cleansing to my soul,
I can feel it
washing away my cares,
and making it okay to smile, again.
I experience this
gentle little caress of heaven.
When it soaks through
my jacket and my jeans.
My shoes splash
in the rain
with every step that I take.
I can hear it
tap dancing on the rooftops,
with invisible feet.
reflect on the wet pavement,
in pools of gold and silver.
The neon signs blink,
red and yellow,
blue and green.
Like drips of paint,
it puddles on the street.
to where there was none before,
only a flood of gray.
Now there is a palette
of fragrances to absorb.
Creating almost a rainbow
in the nighttime.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
November 11th, 2013
For Nette Onclaud's contest - "Fragrance Of Rain"
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013
Hydrogen to Helium
A fusion formed by gravity
A carbon-based delirium
Molecularly infinite energy
An ancient discipline known as alchemy
We’re consciousness - the explosion - amorous
We dream of gold from lead and mercury
Fueled reaction in copper with phosphorus
A universal age of prosperity
Bismuth bath. Deficient of iron and zinc
Astronautic laugh – last shine of hope
Nuclear decay –enlightened way – elemental - instinct
Scientific – logical clay – gaseous isotope.
The fluoride, we drink?
Humanity on the pivotal brink
The edge, a precipice.
Lanthanides and actinides
Metals and mysteries.
Shrink down to atomic scale
Our intellect – an accelerated history
A holographic projection
A gravitational trajectory
Precious pavonine pearl
Our planet, our world.
A place all our elements may inhabit
Terrestrially unique. Diverse and intelligent
The push of inertia
The pull of gravity
The spin of an atom
The spin of our galaxy.
(written for the periodic table of elements poetry contest) 12-12-14
Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014
they cascade on green heights
spectacular curtains that inspire
as I go down with flow of life’s musical lyre
I’ll sing the lullabies of dreams which never tire
refreshing the plaintive minds and souls
listen to summer calls
June 14, 2014 11.15pm
Form of Poem: “Trois-Par-Huit Poem”
Contest: A poem you've not entered in a contest#10
Sponsor: Poet PD
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2014
Splashing into fine mist—
I become one with the waterfall.
As droplets kiss my face
And enter my soul’s most sacred place.
Anointing me with love,
Sustaining all life forms on the Earth.
For each divine droplet;
A cascading veil of purity.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Contest: Some Form of Crystalline sponsored by Nette Onclaud
November 3, 2014
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014
As if dropped down from crystal sky,
two mares through water run
They gleam the dream of Gemini -
white beauty in the sun
Written March 10, 2015 by Andrea Dietrich
for the MEMENTO OF WATERS Poetry Contest of nette onclaud
Based on Visual #3
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
loudly inside my head,
roaring thunder rushing through my veins.
chaining me mesmerized,
hypnotizing with a mighty force.
thoughts are racing blindly
spilling into open nothingness.
only to rise again
as an eternal magical mist.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Nette Onclaud’s Contest:
Some form of Crystalline
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
The thing about today is that:
It will be different than any other day
Many different factors will share in the reasons
That today will be completely original
The people we encounter can play a huge role
In the way that our day plays out
We have no control over how these people may act
No control over what they may say or do
We can however control the way we allow it to affect us
I have met and been friends with
About every type of person that there is
From healers to killers I have met them all
Shared meals and how we feel;the pressure of it all
I used to allow outside influences
Like these people
To play a role in how my day would go
Then one day I realized that if you remove the water from the falls
All that you have left is a cliff
And of course a hole at the bottom
All the breathtaking beauty of the waterfall is gone
All because some fool decided to build a dam to divert the water
The River had no choice in how its day would go
It had no choice in allowing an outside force
To change its course
Of where it would end today
We have a choice, no matter what anyone does
We can stay on course and maintain the original beauty of our day
As long as we always remember
That this day belongs to us
The only thing that can change that is God, for it is his gift to us all
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009
curiously peering over a cloud
Angelica stepped a bit too far
wings fluttered and disappeared
stolen by jealous demons below
angel flying too close to the ground
leaving the harmony of heaven
sensing a need to save a ravaged planet
landing gracefully on soft soil
Angelica hears the bulldozers
weapons of environmental destruction
sauntering through Earth’s rainforests
curiosity beckons as water reflects her image
her lost wings still reflect in the pond
seen as ripples from her pink, silk gown
orchid floral tiara crowns her long auburn hair
even water lilies envy her beauty
captivated by this pool lit with filtered sun
immersed in an image of herself
in God’s light all angels appear the same
bright beams to welcome new souls
fly again she will
bubbles of hope spring forth
Earthbound for but a brief time
cherished cherub sent as nature’s guardian
halo of comfort surrounds
Angelica leans forth to feel the coolness
sparkling water caresses warm lips
her kiss renews Earth’s freshness
other angels transparent in sunlight
bestow a new set of wings
mission accomplished, they escort her home
once again she revels in heaven’s light
For the “Reflection” contest, sponsored by Constance La France ~ a Rambling Poet ~
By Carolyn Devonshire
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
I walk on water. . .
I feel the coolness of the
Rolling waves splash
Beneath my feet.
I watch the sun sprinkle
Diamonds across the sea.
I float above the clouds
And feel the radiant warmth
Of the sun bless my body.
I feel the power of the wind
Caress or twist and break
Anything into submission.
I rise above the towering Alps—
Snow capped and pristine.
I enjoy a fragile flower sharing
The faint scent of heaven.
I know the Sequoias, ever growing.
I blend with verdant pastures and
Serene rolling hills in misty rain.
I know the secrets of the
Deep dark abyss.
I sense the moon’s tenderness
And share in her emotions.
I flow with the clever rivers
Seeking new exciting paths.
I form a rainbow in waterfalls.
I am free to be the wind, the earth,
The sea, when all you see is me.
© 2010 Connie Marcum Wong
I am only inferring I am one with nature in this poem.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2010
The beauty of water
Water, one of nature's great pleasures.
Do you find the sound of water calming, soothing and serene?
Whenever I hear water and am outside, it instantly calms me. If I’m feeling angry I’m calmed, if I’m sad, happy. When I’m near water I feel free from life's troubles and can have a quiet, peaceful time alone to meditate.
When I’m meditating, I feel free like water is. My negativity can flow away and I'm left with a feeling of true peace which is beautiful.
I particularly find lakes and rivers fascinating and beautiful. The still water and the serenity of lakes’ surroundings make it a very special place of pure happiness.
Whenever I'm near a lake or mountain I feel like that I’m in a higher state of consciousness. I believe that this is because it is a place of peace, profoundness and beauty in its truest sense.
I feel as though I'm in the presence of something truly great, majestic and benevolent. Like a feeling of overwhelming love, knowledge and power. this is our creator, our lord.
True beauty and knowledge are around water, you need to empty your mind. Be formless, shapeless like water. Water can flow or it can crash!! Also when I enter the water, I feel as though I'm being cleansed of all troubles and worries.
Water is like love, clean and pure. It is life, nourishment and fulfillment. Water courses through the earth like love goes through all of us. I feel that water is like a trinity; a trinity of flowingness, calmness and purity.
Water is symbolic among many peoples. Water has many positive aspects, some of these are; gentleness, sensitivity and expressiveness. I feel as though I have these qualities as we all do. You just need to let go of all your troubles and worries.
Copyright © Ryan Moon | Year Posted 2016
Maid of the Myst
I lie in repose
Under the falls
In a tranquil pool
Of turquoise blue
He left me for another
This I could not suffer
My pain already drowning me
I fell from the falls
Spectacular was the news
Young girl with the blues
Dives to her cherished death
My lover left me for I was on meth
I was confused and skin so bruised
Misused and tears seeped from my veins
No one at all could know this enduring pain
So now under the falls I enjoy the rain
My soul lies deep
Under waters so very steep
I wait, and I wait
To be alive again
From the skies
Not another… but I see a phone that dives
Floating downwards upon my weary breast
A chance you see, finally I was blessed
I call from the depths below
Like a spirit I begin to glow
Daddy daddy is that you?
From below I call to say a proper adieu
Found inside her pocket
I miss you daddy
I love you so much
Forgive my wild youth
Remember me as I was in your arms
Long ago with my pony tails
Your little cuddly pumpkin
Love you daddy
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
we are all legends no matter who we are
cruising, and confusing ENIGMA to bizarre
I am a legend, no need to be a star
I am a legend ,with no need to travel far
In and out like the sun
I am a legend, I' m not the only one
living this world with one quick run
we are still a legend, we control the gun
drinking all the water from the dam
drowning in a lake is what i dram
a legend I made the river where I swam
after drinking the water from the lamb
legend when our hearts are lost in the ground
legend we become when we are found
legend we are all destine to bound
legend by the weight of the smallest pound
legend down to the bone
legend even when you're alone
a legend does not always carry a nice tone
a legend is your name engraved in the stone
by : p.d.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
in her thunder she froths at the mouth
at the serene background
exposes her dominant nature
the tears flow
against a cheek bone hard
that slowly erodes its stoic mask
leaves its mark
a vividly engraved
memory of many summers past
Sponsor: nette onclaud
Contest Name: SOME FORM OF CRYSTALLINE
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
Romance dwells in moving waters
Cerulean lake lapping the shore...
Moonlight cast across the waves
As the sea sings of passion's amour.
Kayaking on the Russian river
In twilight's softest silhouette...
Feeling the droplets from Niagara
Lovers kiss near romantic falls.
Skinny dipping in an aqua lagoon
To cool before a night of passion.
Lazing next in hot spring waters
Encompassed in aurora's lights.
Lotus blossoms bask in waters
Of loving mem'ries so sublime.
Romance dwells in moving waters
In love straight from Nature's heart.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2017
Atacama, Eden of winds,
flower of abandoned rocks and of sapleter,
homestead of flamingoes and geysers,
and above all ,
below an azure sky,
mountains are carrying on their tops
ice of the past.
Old villages tell us their stories,
Toconce, Toconao, Chiu-Chiu,
carry in their canons
water from deep below
let flowers and vegetables grow.
Chiu-Chiu, oasis of the desert,
a green spot,
surrounded by fragments of history
with the colour of orange, red and brown,
embedded in fragile foam of salt and hope,
the history of the Atacama.
Still alive in their churches.
Fragments of an ancient culture
reflecting on the surface of Río Loa.
Like ants – far away,
dispersed in vibrant light
some Vicuñas are looking
for tranquility and forage.
The geysers of El Tatio
send their hot water into the cold and pure air.
How pacient the Atacama is with us,
slaves of modern times
with the desire for paradise
with the dual face of history and hope.
Salar de Atacama, show me your
cracked and wounded face,
your wrinkles of solitude.
Far in the distance the chain of volcanoes,
with towering Lincancabur,
and its shouldered knapsack of crystals and ice,
holding its splendour towards the sky
with the colours of lapis lazuli and light agate.
Toconao, the ruins of Quitor greet you,
dormant since ages
they narrate the history of the Inca,
of their last refuge and their last battle with
Pedro de Valdivia,
who came with his men
to break the bravery of Inca soldiers
with thunder and destruction.
The waterfalls of the hot spings of Puritama
shoot their water into the air with the colours of rainbows,
drawing delicate faces of life
on dry sand and charming stones.
The wind from the mountains carries songs,
flute music, ancient tunes,
stories of salt, gypsum and clay
to the Valle de la Luna,
to let it remain calm and unchanged
with its eyes filled with dust and stones
in the eternal canto of earth.
Atacama, heart of the North,
plant of wind
in the song of history,
you make the day sound
and rock to sleep the nights,
lonely between the arms of the mountains
and the Altiplano.
Copyright © Gert W. Knop | Year Posted 2009
I feel the water
all around me
I go further down
to touch the bottom of the pool
on the two painted dolphins
I push my hands down
and my feet break free from the water
shooting up into the air
For a moment
I revel the erectness of my form
My legs above the water
the water trickling down them
I bring them back down
and burst out of the water
head and chest pushing out
Hair...laden with water
spraying a trajectory of liquid crystals behind me
I take in the air
my arms move back and forth
I dip in again
then swim to the far side of the pool
I hold on to the metal hand guards
Put my legs out on the side of the pool
I push myself below the surface
the water, my home
I'm in my element
weightless and happy
the muffled sounds
and dancing lights on the surface
flirt with me
I stay for as long as I can
then I break the surface
Floating on my back
I look at the sky
I feel sublime
chest and tummy tasting the air
where in my mind
I'm beautiful and divine
sultry mistress of the water
he's touching every part of me
I am never as happy as when I'm swimming....the pool lets me be more creative, but I also enjoy swimming in the Mediterranean sea. I've been called a dolphin.... I'm more like another aquatic mammal at present, but even those creatures are graceful and beautiful in the water. Summer is coming....
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.
Enchantments cursed beast of purity’s beauty
Trapped within the foam and spray, touching
Almost the land then in sorrow’s undertow
Driven back is this mystical herd of wild
Poseidon’s sacred water horses, surfing
Within the frothy s riptide of mermaid tears,
Clashing their silvery horse shoes, against the
Rocky edges of the under currents tidal surge
These titans of the fathoms deepest depths.
Lightening immortals shimmering, bathing
Translucent beneath the hued blue waves,
The last unicorns beg for release, to run
Freedom trails once more, to feel the
Mountains breezes of liberation flowing
Through their milk white manes again.
But silence is the reply from their capturer,
Unmoved is his trident of power, sitting on
His ivory thrown Poseidon watches these
Wonders of myth, and relishes in their
Spectacular beauty, vowing never to
Set them free, thee belong to me, my
Sacred water steeds of the bluest deep.
Within the seashells hear them weep,
These creatures of the mystical realm,
Crying out, release us please, can thrust,
Not hear us.
Out of the water, to feel mother earth
Beneath our silver hooves, we give our
Horns of crystal power, or the shimmering
Shine that beguiles our under sea father.
Out of the water, we’d roam in the wilderness
Wild, roll amongst the sandy duns of the desert,
Climb the mountain tops heights, and breath
The sweet air of freedom within our lungs.
Out of the water, for just one single day,
We sacrifice all that we are, or were in
Mysticism mystical realm, just to be free!
Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015
From high up
The rushing water leaps
A daring dive into the unknown.
It tumbles down, eyes closed
Savouring the adrenalin rush
Of bold youth;
It flows in breathless flight
Crystalline streaks of exuberance.
The roar of fulfilment
As waters meet and avidly merge.
Paul Callus ~ 29th October, 2014
Form: Parallelogram de Crystalline.
[It consists of 4 stanzas of 3 lines each.
The syllable count for each stanza is 3, 6, 9.]
Contest: Some Form Of Crystalline
Sponsor: nette onclaud
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014
Smooth as ebony silk, black aquatic waves the melting
Essence of liquid evil, stirring this lake placid of our
Eternal nightmares, deadened space in the fathoms
Deep, beneath the dreaming realm for which we sleep.
Translucent tears, left dripping in our unconscious mind,
Trick, trickling, encroaching, drowning us within the
Fear factor, heaving, and tugging at the reality of
Humanities thin realism.
Raw is this blackened well, of emotional plunging,
A pit bottomless, in suctions raw force of power.
Thy soul trying to cling against the porcelain sides,
Yet sliced by the roughed edge of illusions delirium.
Sheer glasses elliptical memorization, hypnotizing
The lucid mind, smacking hands blister at the panes,
Begging for this bad dream to end.
But your voices scream remain nothing except
Echoes refrains, that are lost amongst the complete
Darkness surrounding thee, in this murky abysses
Wake up, wake up, this is not real or is it,
The torn spiritualist grasps at faiths buoy, but
Instead sinks farther below the currents swift
Under currents, then light slits through the dark,
As lightening slashes at the blackest night, and
The dreamer shivers beneath his covers warmth.
Laying within his twisted sheets of sweat,
He wonders if any of it was real at all!
But whom can tell what lucks under the black
Waters of our nightmares, dare you to go swimming,
Into the rivers of the unconscious to find out, and survive.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015
Don't rush to wash off the sea salt
drying on your skin;
the hopes it carries from other oceans,
those remain yet to be seen.
Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016
Blackness moving slowly into light!
becoming one existance
The stars gather like flocks of birds.
See the colors mix and mingle
Creating the perfect shades of colors, the
most beautiful blue and yellow.
Funny how words could form such a savage thing.
These islands come apart
Gods fingers pulling them into various directions
By his very words they are released.
Morning and nights wed, but they are never
essembled as one.
Out of some experiment called love?
To see us form into flesh and blood
And obeying of water slowly, a piece of dirt
Spreading as far as the eyes can see
Its water circled the new dirt, and calm and
sometimes sea's prevail!
Birth of nations!
The beautiful green, red, yellow, orange and
other shades of our humanity, vibrant fields I seek
and found before the eyes of the almighty.
New species arise, what perfection...
The heavens speak of many moods, and speaks
to us to know the time, are signs and marks of seasons.
Our days and years combined to reason. Two emotions.
One to sleep and the other to wake, His return on earth cometh
And will cease the same by partened clouds and running
horseman, out of the clouds into earth.
And then the ocean filled with the wild and tamed
A whisper into their hearts and souls to multiply
and above the sea which holds the sky, movements of
graceful wings sour the clouds freely, and glide beneath
a wise space
Below a newly born star.....
Atlas! the earth has formed to paint these?
and soon our hands which once held silence
and our hearts held peace! this is good
The earth is spinning, the oceans flowing, our blood passing
the woman exist, our beast wondering, the friut so bright!
This is good! Out of the garden. The murder of innosence
Into our ever lasting taste for flesh, obsession and power
Our need for greed and death! The birth of sin!
Atlas! the setting and rising, our beating hearts
and pulse which slows its rythem by the generations
Generations fade.. nearly rythemless life beats as the dying rose
Copyright © derrick burton | Year Posted 2010
The Inuit call the Narwhal the one that points to the sky,
Because of their unique way of aiming their tusk upward;
The scientific name Narwhal means one tooth and one horn,
Narwhals are the subject of mythical tales, legend and lore.
Mottled white gray and black is their skin , so corpse-like,
Most spend the winter in Baffin Bay, northern Canada;
In heavy packs of ice, a world of giant crashing ice burgs,
A treeless white tundra that goes on forever and ever.
The Narwhal can dive down miles in the water to feed,
Sadly some die of suffocation due to the surface freezing;
They do need to take breaths through cracks in the ice,
One must wonder, why they choose this frozen location.
Narwhals summer in Hudson Bay, Greenland and Russia,
Moving through narrow channels during the spring melt;
They are threatened by overhunting by the Inuit for food and ivory,
Also from mining and drilling and from global warming.
Such amazing creatures, a fantastic animal of fifteen feet,
With this incredible long spiraled tusk, unicorn-like;
An eight foot flexible horn that bends to the left, mysteriously,
Actually a tooth that continues to grow all of their life.
All males have these tusks along with another smaller tooth,
Emerging from their upper jaw, with no apparent use;
Not anything to do with a weapon or for fishing or for eating fish,
It seems to be a beautiful male adornment for finding love.
Often they are seen rubbing tusks, this is called tusking,
It is thought to be not only part of mating but hierarchy;
Narwhals communicate by clicking, whistling and knocking,
A haunting sound the pierces the frozen silent ice world.
In past years, many were captured for scientific study,
However, they all died in captivity, it seems they need ice;
Some wild creatures are just not meant to be kept captive,
Many of God's animals are just suppose to be free in nature.
September 19, 2015
Written by Broken Wings
For the contest, Impress Me With A Narwhal Poem, sponsor, Skat
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
Flight of stillness;
Ladders point up
but they say the ground is greater;
sunlight knitting to their brown feet green socks.
They crestfall and
buckle at the knee.
Hear guts clap thunder off somewhere else
but no storm in sight to maitre d' this mesa;
got to rot the mud lest
an urge to ripen ripens.
But hear now
the locusts flood this rut,
hunt for want,
impelled to eat each lunch of your decay.
Earth uncorks her pores.
you drift upon the grass, lift the damp from the sod
like a pillow of cloud sopping Earth's steam-
to be made the steward of this land;
Pay in full the cost of water,
less labors not yet lost.
Copyright © Andrew Gallagher | Year Posted 2008
Tired waters push their way through rocks
Rocks hugged by rotting ivy's green
Green surrounds the wild forest's stream,
Stream flows calm, through places unknown...
The river flows to embrace the sea,
Her delighted droplets swirl, now free.
The journey ends, none can disagree -
The sight is pure tranquility.
9th Sep 2015
Copyright © Sneha RV The Literature Lover | Year Posted 2015