Angel-shadowers;
Glowing, glad for you
Now dim; affrighted. The world.
Its burden to bear!
Thoughts, mine. As close by
As do alike hang
This new route about. Warm. Chilled!
Each step's wing-shook air.
MAGA folks, with Trump are mostly delighted
Democrats up in arms, yet affrighted
Is Trump dealing democracy a ‘death blow’
or just displaying ‘common sense,’ you know
Who to ask? Ted Cruz? Nancy Pelosi? Chuck Schumer? JD Vance?
~ How about Nikki Halle or Mike Pence?
A radical named Hans Grenade Carter
His desire in life to be a martyr
His explosive ignited
All the targets, affrighted
From the stench he emitted, the farter
The heart and mind meld this time
I would that I bleed, not cry
Bleeding tells them my body hurts
Crying reveals my heart and soul hurt
The tree of life is uncertain and short
Season in; season out, my life; your life
Is like a vapour, only musters to vanish into thin air
A hidden life speaks essence, yet is shortlived
The joy of happy moments
Is having one to revel in them with
To watch the mountain flowers bloom alone,
Is as sad, painful as a growing thorn in the flesh
The hurting body forthwith heals
Sadness in the heart may never heal
A frostbite that can metamorphose into death
May subside with one to comfort the sadness at night
Are you affrighted of death? Everyone dies
Are you affrighted of loneliness? Sadly we are lonely
Does it hurt to be wounded or cry? We have our times
Does it hurt to move on? We get by everyday
When we find our way to something new
The memories of the old oft tend to conflict
None can replace a life once and for all truly loved
Huge is the tree of life with its roots deeply buried in lonesome mud and silence
Even as wind, horrid whistling
Met with, leaves us then
Shivering for, hours later
As affrighted men
So does a torment, traced from down
Some hall, historical
Produce numbness. Only Time-blown.
If out of recall.
~ The Ways of the Forest ~
Beckons the forest
Come follow me
My winding trail
will sure delight thee
Through bush and brambles
thickets and clearings
The sun unnoticed
Earth's horizon nearing
Of a sudden, a chill
raced down the girl's spine
At the howl of the wolf
and the fox's whine
She lay herself down
close by a river
Darkness her blanket
affrighted, she shivered
*****
They say that the ways
of the forest are cruel
To that hoary old adage
this tale may add fuel
August 14, 2020
Strand Completely New (22) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
a blonde Baboon face
wings around cows tails or hooves
affrighted black crow eyes
The feisty woman spewed torrential abuses
He holds her in his arms till her anger defuses
To despair over her phobias he simply refuses
Nightmares of being hated and unloved one day
Cloud her thoughts of his fearful avenge in some way
His calming voice cannot unnerve her in her usual fray
One such day his heart-beat stops as he lay stony still
A cold stare at her tongue that could no more bring him ill
Sobbing apologies echoed after her poisonous verbal pill
In his matrimonial life his patience had passed every test
Gloom spread as the dead lay on the pyre after his cardiac arrest
Such pretence was unseen as she hammered hard on his breast
Her beatings opened the flood gates of his arteries and he sat up affrighted
His son's eyes ogled out and hands quivered holding the torch that was lighted
Shrieks and rampage confused the reborn while at his back the shrew snorted
October 16, 2016
Contest No. 224
For Brain Strand
There was a man;
Whose lived by the mountains for ages.
He was; but to be seen,
Or heard.
He was; truly bizarre,
With no lads by his side,
He lived in the castle;
Of Romania of Britzsit.
When the wolves cried in horror;
When the mountains stood still;
There he was; looking at the moon,
While dine in the blood of daughter of Khalil.
Such sad, sad tragedy indeed,
Of when people in England came
To visit,
He'd waited anxiously;
For his dreams had fulfilled.
Blood-lusted,
Mind-infested,
Sane-filtered,
People-affrighted ,
Bodies-attracted,
Moon-lighted,
And self-powered.
Arose from the dead;
Came the fellow named Vlad,
Whose souls mined in Romania,
Then he alone be named Dracula.
They danced and they turned and they tumbled
In wind, how it sighed and it grumbled
With force, how it howled in its fury
But still they bore no trace of worry
In cool autumn winds they cavorted
My foot! How they laughed and they sported
They flew through the air just like pheasants
Till set in my excellent presence
“Red Leaf,” quoth I unto the leader
“To fly, there is nothing more neater
But weren’t you the least bit affrighted
As thus from the breeze you alighted?”
“Dear sir,” quoth the leaf as he flitted
“To fear, for a leaf ain’t permitted
We’re taught from a bud in the cradle
That even a crash isn’t fatal.”
“I say,” quoth I unto the yellow
“You seem to be such a neat fellow
I wonder how likes you this sporting
Or if you a damsel are courting?”
Quoth he, “All this sporting is splendid
The days of my courting are ended
My lover has flown to the northward
While I am constrained to fly southward.”
Before one more word could be spoken
The peace of that moment was broken
Away flew those leaves o’er the treeses
Borne by the chill autumn breezes
October 25, 2012.
For the contest, Up in the Autumn Air. Second place.
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