To see the earthly resentment
Of Ireland
In her American
Per chase of the heart
Down to lent
Repent in sayings before
Ashed inscription
Told
Without reply she walks in a sun
Fide et Amore, Italia
Aetheistic concealed brevity
Reluctant canvas of poetry
Projection of a middle path
Project re deck
Stacks end racks
Build out change
Sisters of in mate position
Split same lunch run ons
Amid the fire of twilight sun
I wish I knew my way
horizon’s char and moonlight’s shun
has ashed my hope I pray
for dark cloud constellation to free
a cosmic steed for me to flee gunshot streets
for primrose to steal my yellow jaundice
and burn the itch in incense of roadside stars
for me to follow scent and sight
and find forsaken door
to open with my key contrite
a waif who’s lost no more
but gods of dirt and sky refuse
this pessimist with optimist dreams
side-of-road primrose mowed— as needle holes
grow my nebulae-scars of blown-vein bruises
a morphine horse runs dirty track
while stars in alley air
just stare and offer not but black
expanse —my nowhere lair
They all died
The lying died
Inside of her mind
I travel
Peeled rays of sunlight
A distant eclipse
The whale had
Executed it’s reasons
Casketing denial
Of flight
Thundering clap
Of freedom
Dismembermenting
And shear
Outfleshing law
And principle
To the news of breaching
She hid in forfeits plans
Filling your time
Plan
Plans against you explore
Laughter
The cosmic guess
None of witch
And only design
Never
Today perhaps a chore
Fast of hinge
Consequence of entry
Always the return of cold
Mysterious shape
Hidden tongues and story
Explain before it ends
All of me hidden beneath your creators fraud
Horrid love, royal failure with riddle
Silk woven princess notes
Listless ember, putrid coal
Resend your thoughts
Chained casket of jewels
Why are you not colored
Ashed powder considers more
Run, away forbidden suprise
Jutting out dangerously.
Attention needed urgently.
Gashed and hurtful no one liked.
Grating metal barbed and spiked.
Exposed wire to catch your clothes.
Dull and jagged everyone loathes.
Gust wheezes behind the sill, fog on pane
I accede to its drift while moonglow dies ;
This heart longs for you, but would breaths refrain
From asking suchlike thoughts, when time implies—
A goodbye ebbing, cast, by rippled gloom
That drizzles speak of broken ties, of chill;
Nebulous in hours ashed, my nights exhume
A stygian waste trashing days, pungent and ill.
O gruesome the maze through cloudburst —although
My hope unbounded bequeaths inner peace ;
To grant evening shadow its afterglow
Until daybreak hails new comfort of ease.
On my way greeting life, joy always wins
Even if most rainfall ends or begins.
Contest No 500 of Brian Strand
To grasp your kohl-star embalmed near a pond
That lets ashed hue cascade its ink downstream,
For I am under siege, a light dims from beyond
Recalling our hearts twined through season's gleam .
From caress of ardor... within life's hand,
Black roses thrown eyes breaking in the rain,
You lie still , no ! My heart can't understand
How to keep fired rage , again and again:
Reveries of swayed waltz unfurl... we dance,
Glorious the nights enchanted by love
As we collect milestones within this trance--
But fate's a thief , exiling us from above
And clouds sweep wilted leaves on your headstone
I bleed protest, when ghastly hours decry--
In your leaving, feet tumble, I'm alone
Where tears cut through an unfinished goodbye.
For Your Poetry Journal Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings 8/4/2018
The Shepherd asked the poetess-
Who are you?
Twinkling her eyes, the poetess
said-who am I.
Am I a breath or a death;
breeze or a storm;
am I soothed or havocked?
I am blazed and ashed.
Am I a flower or a crackling leaf;
sand or a sea;
rock or a snow?
I am a droplet and a wavelet.
Am I a mystic sky or a fog;
cloud or a smoke;
hazed or dazed?
I am a dew and blue.
Am I a moon or its shadow;
real or a fake;
peace or a mayhem?
I am resting and running.
Am I desired or scraped;
slapdash or deliberate;
gem or a junk?
I am nerdish and doltish.
O! dear shepherd
who cares and
wonders who am I?
I am a treasure of pleasure,
I am a glow and a blow,
I am tender and blender,
I am your treasured flow.
**************
black cat cast
what name
say you
leash
on
you
cat chaser
kitten pusher
poetry goo rue
pauperd inkling
blue pale ing lips
chill ing breath pin
pupils teach'ers pet
switchings apple test
sizzle ing towards pain
burning into remains
ashed sleeves dust
smoldering
of
lust
shallow chains
locked aimed
bullseye view
attacking
you
rabbits hats vast past black cat cast
Jungle's deadly wolf roams,
Jaws tightening its limbs
Jutting out from ashed night;
Jeers growl for a prey's blood.
Jingling its canine paws,
Jolts ripping hunter's flesh
Joust against man...beast wins !
Pleiades-J Contest
3/5/2017
Checked with www.howmanysyllable.com
Oh in the early days you couldn’t wait to get your hands on my curves
Now I am getting older, you simply don’t want to know
The times you got my motor running
How you loved to get me all fired up
Engines firing we went the full distance
Suddenly you lost all interest in me
Cashed me in for a younger prettier model
Ruthlessly you cast me aside, left me all alone
All I need now is a bit of love and affection
Put some polish on my bumpers and I’ll be raring to go
How I miss you being part of my life
Even after all these years I still pine for you
Abandoned when I still had so much left to give
Past my prime, now I’m on the scrapheap of life
Rusted and Busted Sponsored by Casarah Nance
06~12~16
She'd grasped me unwittingly
- we are no more on this earth!
I heard frightened squealing
- we are no more here and there!
those were her last words
big nothing - a simple say
as the end of the world
starts with the end of the day
my love – I'll fallow your way
throughout silvery cobweb
gently plated on horsetail scales
I'll bear thy ashes until last breath
and wind a prophet mad
will blow the tale of dawn
protruding from behind
the veil of scorching night
with waving shimmer
across the fading skies
we'd used to be a dreamers
and soon we'll turn in to a dust
we'd used to be a streamers
amongst the ashed stars
as down below world grimmed
could not resist allure of bars
we'd used to be...
and be the peace with us
we are the leaves of tree
fondly axed apart
Portlaoise 05/03/2016
There was a firefighter named VanHoof
Who believed he was fireproof.
One day pride got the better of him
He acted when his chances were slim.
Thus in an infernal VanHoof went poof.
I promised to formulate a poem of beauty and joy
Out of this clay filled box...
But all I see is the ashed earth of it
the texture of its brownness and reddishness
Like his skin it looks so cinnamony
Smooth
Like it would taste good
Though we both know it will not
I can drill a finger hole into the center of it and
now it is a square box ...with a round hole
I do not fit nicely into either shape
as I am star dust and must just keep blowing around all the time
Ashed, As A Moth Flying Into Fire
The fire struggles to breathe in the wind
Only burning because it was meant to
Yearning to fly away in the gentle breeze
And be something else, something abstract
We know that feeling, that absence of I
Because we were born to know
What is the meaning of I?
I, means solitude
There has to be an alternative
There has to be an us, we must exist
Excavate reason and remember why
We all seek to solve the mystery of I
The world has crammed us full moths and myths
Walking remains of all the tarnished faces
That we tried to wear and hide cleverly behind
The changing of our will, the will to change
Is the only way to remember who we really are
To all that we had and all that we have left
To what we once were and to what we can be
For the sake of existing in a life full of peace
We have to empty our pieces and ourselves
To discover and know the will of I
It is only when our fire turns to ash,
That we can be carried off by the wind
Binary Ashes
Think of us,
Saying to either
I can almost see you
Beyond Eye
The Aphotic rays reach higher
And shame, shade reigns over all
Lacuna, Apathy is all I feel as I fall into the ashed grave
I'm living, the slowest way to die
Elysia, rapture where are you now
What will I do when the flame is extinguished
What will I do when I drown in ash
What will I do when they sing my name in funeral dirges
How can this be all, one short organic vitality
Scares to die, but afraid of a new day
Scared to die, but so afraid of a new day
Will I Ressructe to Paradise, burn in Hell, or lay in Sheol
Is this a there is, one feather, to the dirge
My life so long - my suffering grows
Scared to die, but so afraid of a new day
In all of the ashes, a flame begins
Once again, here I am
Living, the slowest way to die
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