My last wet tears
stain the starlit sky
in cold frosted shades
As tangible fears
awaken sleeping
distant memories
of aged hidden pain
These mortified eyes
don't recall the tales
my children now tell
of my past sad sins
In my dire defence
lasting episodes
of assembling joy
never did escape
parent's cutting lips
A pale memory
fades in present days
I don't remember
teen tornado years
My acts of dark hate
left deep open scars
ones that never healed
I long to rewind
grains of quicksand time
learn the art of love
perhaps forgiveness
will thrive when I’m gone.
Timeless lyrical,
compassionate dance,
a shifting effect
of light and color,
the glowing full moon
conducts in folk tune.
Indispensable
distant humble stars
spring a russet, sign.
White unfolded wings
flitter wayward round
a rhythmic beating
in shadow, chill, air.
The spike tuft ears owl
melodies hooting,
influence passion.
A lovers' heartbeat
keeping steady rhythm.
A starlight guides the
way by windswept night.
Worshippers at best
believing in hope
and peaceful rest
as we sing
blest by our King
who sits on throne
so we can look up,
kneel, stand up,
keen to His reign
ready and willing
to accept His grace
and life’s newness
as we begin
fresh and strong
bathed in sunlight
whatever season
to disregard lies
reach for the truth
play loud our tunes
with cheerfulness
within and without
this taste of heaven
living loud
in solitude
in gratefulness
for what is next
is to take each step
as if roses
scented our path
of faithfulness
HEED, my words
for at its end
his name will be
future seafarers
guide like that
of a star
HAIL, the winds
they come from the north
and just yon, a star
that none need attend
and in its glow
a wake of vessels
single sails all
HOLD, bold cold challenge
ill tides a new land
banished from their own
a place painted green
the night's of wars
brought a new day
HOME, a settlement
lay the foundation
later to be called
history or
his story
HOPE, son well in years
will make his own mark
but for now
its father's time
Red hair, beard, temper
ERIK the Red
Here's to what is next ...
My friend and I
are stuck in our rooms
and we can't get out
and my friend's a
four-footed friend
clearly, he can't get
himself out, besides,
I've got the key
but my problem is
I literally
painted myself
into a corner
and I'm not going
to have my costly
Ferragamo's
tarnished but
there's a spare key
that will unlock
this door then
I'll unlock my
four-footed friend
but the spare key
is next to a
false key so
what key will
open this door
and free me
so I can
free my friend.
I'm an emerald
echo of earth's
caterpillar, a
camouflaging
hiatus of muse
midst karmic rainstorms.
Enslaved to jealous
stars flaming within
infernal wings,
I yearn to spellbind
sacred heaven's throne,
chasing subconscious
liberty in crowned
soul of marine eyes.
Tracing saffron
fingertips in
silent smokes of
Venus, willingly,
I've scarred tuscan shine
of Aphrodite
with pearl's thermal ache.
So now, when new year's
first sunflower sings ~
breathing ambrosia
in gemstones of
bejeweled healing,
a poet shall be
reborn as a
ruby-amethyst,
snowtail butterfly.
Written: December 09, 2023
______________________________________
Honeyed gold pearled shades
brown ferns and aspens
into shadowed paths
lit embers and oaks
As darkness draws near,
with bowed tears of stark
runic streaks of light
dapple my sky
showing only maze
of black enigmas
crimson, lucid blaze.
leading to plum sky.
Swift shades drape my thirst
like dim-lit daydreams
that persist through time
niggling at my nerves
in sparkling strings of
stern frame blush skyline!
whilst glum chorus swells
in ghostly darkness.
Gloom morphs darned mayhem
veiled cinereal shroud
as she touches me
gazing with sleek sight
hushed tones, wan relics
of laid skyline bleeds
lost in shades of rouge
Onyx oboe chords.
The blaze has withered
oblivion crave.
They try to destroy,
firing their arrows,
throwing their stones,
she's not the Devil,
nor a perfect saint,
but always misjudged.
It's not just humans,
but ghosts and demons.
She tries to ignore,
but the wounds bleed,
so deeply it hurts.
Her eyes are sore
from constant crying,
they are ignorant
to her soul dying.
She still tries to help,
but is seen as wrong
and a misfit.
Hiding in silence,
sins kept a secret,
in search of freedom.
Creates her own world,
to spread love and joy.
Still they criticize,
so she remains lost,
between virtual
and reality.
In realms of pretend,
she sits on her throne
as the queen of darkness.
You were my home
My refuge,
My place of peace,
My protection,
My Hawaiian
Melody
Where love always
Welcomed me
With a warm hug,
A knowing gaze,
A celestial
Connection
Where our words
Were not needed.
A place where
Understanding
And acceptance
Dwelled within
A huge beating
Humble heart
That was in
Rhythm with mine.
So Divine!
Then sadly you died.
Now I am homeless.
4-14-21
Anacreontic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsor Silent One
Ether-bound,
into the blue
I’m flying
with his hand
clasped in mine.
Is this a dream?
Underneath us
earth is growing small.
But up and up -
wondrously we lift!
Above a mound
of clouds we drift.
A glorious haze
of stillness
envelops us -
sweet tranquility.
I turn to see
his eyes so tender -
mirroring mine.
Suddenly,
a sharp shrill sound
splits the silence
most profound.
The clouds vanish.
I lose his hand
as I reach toward
the alarm clock.
Sadly, yes,
it was but a dream.
April 13, 2021
For Silent One's Anacreontic Verse Poetry Contest
3-5 syllables per line, checked by Howmanysyllables.com
Despite the distance,
like moon and ocean,
I feel her close, but
touchless and tasteless.
Craving her comfort.
like a thief without
his precious treasure,
I yearn for one glimpse.
Tongue is silent, but
as spirits ignite,
'urges' call her name.
Her voice cools embers,
as souls dream to meet.
Soft tones of her heart
flutter so tranquil.
Calmness of her waves,
vibrate my heart's beam,
as my moonlight rays
fondle wet ripples,
absorbing deeper
like blended shadows,
merging ebony
and ivory strokes,
gently flowing like
lyrical lovers.
Adrift in her bliss,
hoping to merge like
tides kiss distant shores.
Her ink is my quill -
sprinkling our garden.
The Silent One
8 April 2021
Example for Anacreontic verse contest
Anacreontic verse is an Ancient Greek lyrical form, consisting of 20- to 30-
line poems with three to five syllables per line.
Developed by 6th century B.C. poet Anacreon. A form that emerged during the height of the dramatic, musical, artistic, and poetic culture.
The poems revolved around themes of love, infatuation, revelry, festivals, and observations of everyday life.
An alien lost,
upon a planet
in distant space,
while hunkered down
within a cave,
tightly encased
by coriaceous
materials
splashed with wear
and cross-stitched red,
feels the presence
of five damp probes,
slick and chalky,
fragranced in musk
and saltwater,
slowly closing
around his body
applying pressure
direct to the seams
of his airtight suit.
At Minute Maid Park,
in Houston, Texas,
Dallas Keuchel
reaches into
his fielder’s glove
and prepares to pitch
a baseball.
8/15/2016
Submitted for: Anacreontic Verse 4
Sponsored by: Edward Ebbs
Oh summer moon
your soft light
highlights my hair,
makes me aware
of the ocean tides
when the grunion
run at very high
tides, as females
dig their tails
into the sand to
lay their eggs.
Fertilization
from a male
occurs and after
ten days with the
next set of high
tides, eggs hatch
and young grunion
are washed out to sea.
So come with me
tonight, let’s have
some fun because
the grunion are
running and I long
to be with you
on the sandy shore
grunion hunting
once more.
8/11/16
Anacreontic Verse 4 - Poetry Contest - Sponsor Edward Ebbs
Grunion are two fish species of the genus Leuresthes: the California grunion, L. tenuis, and the Gulf grunion L. sardinas. They are sardine-sized teleost fishes of the Atherinopsidae family of New World silversides, found only off the coast of California, USA, and Baja California, Mexico, where the species are found on both the Pacific Ocean and Gulf of California coasts. Many people enjoy catching grunion at events called "grunion runs."
The warmth is back
Bringing life
The wind in winter
Howls saddened by death
Now tickles the leaves
Dancing with butterflies
In fields of grass
Flowers in bloom
sweeten the air
Replacing the smell
Of death and despair
Streams once again flow
Babbling softly
Whispering stories
Of times long ago
As wind passes by
It listens
Taking stories
Up to sky
Tales of such beauty
Clouds begin to cry
Nature is renewed
Forgetting yesterday
Summer is here
Wind again will play
written
08/05/2016
Garden Party
Honey bees
petal to petal
roving salesmen
pressing buzzers
leaving calling cards
blowing in the wind.
Butterflies,
in flowing gowns
adorn red carpet
of jealous rose.
Fireflies, nocturnal
lantern carriers
of the pixies,
announce the stars.
Dew drops, wet kisses
upon pursed lips,
awaken passion
under cover
of darkness.
Ants parade,
long Conga Lines
passing on a
two lane road.
Snails park their campers
in a shady
patch of leaves.
Motionless,
the praying Mantis
silently waits.
7/21/2016
Submitted to – Anacreontic Verse 4 – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Edward Ebbs
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