Haven 9-18-26
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Haven
The inferno cast by a sinful moon
Rises in the red breath of winter,
In neon flames and flares.
Faceless
Whimpering
In splinters of bare bone
Howling into grimacing spectrals
Deaf to the labor of compassion
The agony of maples turning scarlet
The sound of birthing stars.
In the debris of green apple afternoons
When tongues of flame
Speak the thesaurus
Of sanctity
Shards of purple glaciers tremble
Chastised
Chastened
By labors of the amber dawns,
As hallowed sweetness
Falls upon the thirsting tongue.
Then, in this arbor, beneath amazing wings,
Joy reclaims crystal blooms of grace.
fluffy clouds swirl in the cold winter sky
yet there are sweet moments of dazzling blue
but, it is time for winter to say goodbye
as I wish for a delightful spring view
oh, I am a winter child in my soul
loving to walk in the white snow and wind
going for a very long evening stroll
still I am ready to leave it behind
for the bare bone like branches creak and moan
and I imagine them in flowing emerald gowns
as this winter has made me sad and alone . . .
and the snow has hidden all the tomb stones
__________________________
February 11, 2023
Poetry/Rhyme/winter child
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1524-764-11
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Posted to Facebook, 02/13/2023
Written for the Premiere contest, A Brian Strand Choice No 1185
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 02/13/2023
To land a mockingbird,
sent out an innocent cat;
one that wouldn’t eat a bird
if it was starving.
A mockingbird’s greatest fear,
hatchlings being eaten
by a feline foe.
I had a tabby who never bothered a bird;
he only dined from cans.
One day a mockingbird nest
fell from a tree,
it’s eggs broken and soaking
into the sun-warmed ground.
Like feline, greased-lightening,
my baby was being dive-bombed
by mocking birds from both sides;
his tail pecked to the bare bone,
I cleaned and bandaged it.
For weeks I had to carry him to and
from his box so he could
answer nature’s call.
A cat with a bandaged butt,
has no pride left.
Yes, if you want to land a mockingbird,
send out an innocent cat;
they’re waiting...
All Around South Had To Hike
All around South did have to hike,
And every single bit of it did like,
To bare bone,
When alone,
Even riding trike when a little tyke.
Jim Horn
Crab with conch and zucchini and okra.
Sound familiar? Some guy said that
grits are not as good as they used to
be. Probably forgot to put butter on
them. Remember Gullah culture and
Charleston River Dogs and Savannah
Southerners baseball team.
Have you ever heard of Huck's in
Charleston before?
And now they expect my tears!
And now they want to see me cry!
Now you’re gone, I can see what I wouldn’t dare see
I can be free from your chains and your song
Locked away every night in the dark, I dreamt of now what I see.
I prayed to god that soon you’d be gone.
But to these people we knew and know never would they see - you see to them you could do no wrong!
I hope that in the furnace the flames burn the evil away
When we wed you promised that you’d look after me but all you did was beat me when the last can had gone.
You stole my life and murdered my dreams in front of me and broke me down to bare bone
Now that you’re gone I won’t cry, no tears - but I’ll spit on thee!
And wish you a safe journey to hell where you belong.
The paths and patterns of flowers
are lost beneath the darkness of desperate rocks
By summers security
and winters threat
does the slavery of hands
make its peace
To be eagerly assaulted
by grit and bare bone supported
in famished mouths
the overwhelming reassurance of nothing
And thou hast forsaken creation
for the purchase of a whim
necessities burden
shall forge the steal of the prison you are in
Though nestled internal of every atom
the balance of love
in stillness
awaits
it is but a system of
which no God creates
Lost beneath the darkness of these desperate rocks
a spirits impression to flowers
can not
Yet saves only sorrow for the years
a specter of the soul
to frequent the chains
of your liberation
Exalt upon nothing
all of emotional stanza
‘tis but the bedeviling
of your heart
And the gifted miracle
the open welcome universal
soft gentle whisper
a longing chanted for a reminder
But turn and make peace with nothing
PUZZLES OF LEAVES
The hillside canopies of seemingly cascading skeleton trees,
bare their boney branches that once clung to myriad puzzles of leaves.
Each shimmering fall leaf
a vividly colored flame,
now a fallen burnt out brief
spent for its time of fame,
leaving their once possessive bare bone branches
to cold gently falling avalanches.
This hillside of sleeping skeleton trees
now savoring the solace of His will done,
and humbly bowed down on their bony knees,
await the assured joy of His Spring to come.
Written by
Robert A.Dufresne 11/3/16
Straggy sad dog
left all alone,
head on her paws
sleeping on stone.
Skin and bare bone,
her life undone,
eyes dimly see,
rain is to come.
Death softly cries
"Oh little one,
come here to me,
I am the sun"
Her tail wags once
her heart's last leap,
This little puppy,
slips into sleep.
Wakes in your arms
holding her dear,
A dream she had,
distant past clear.
She could be yours
She could be mine
One never knows
Until it's time.
when darkness falls
shadows serenade
upon moonlit walls
and my eyes close
as i bid farewell to day
sweet dreams
cannot come
when hand from grave
rocks you back
through life's storms
i was bound to the hand
that rocked the cradle
my ship in stormy seas
slapped on the face
yet not by waves
but tasted saltwater
just the same
chilled to bare bone
then swept away
by wind of warmth
apologies?
an aftermath of storms
an unexpected pause
until the next red tide
bore my name
chained fast
to this diligent life
i longed to break free
from this anchor
that weighed me down
i swam against the tide
yet i was rocked
knocked back
through life
though tides have since parted
and seas are more calm
the taste of saltwater
still lingers
its bitterness
in my mouth
my mind
in bondage
cries out in pain
as hand from grave
rocks the cradle again
Twist the truth
in what I say
Tick ,tick it is a matter of time
Hiding the truth
With each movement tick ,tick
Getting closer
to the final countdown
Tick ,tick the pressure
It is building
Getting closer
to the truth tick, tick
Saved by the bell
I did not explode
Biting my tongue
words held at bay
You would not like
what I have to say
It would strip
you to the bare bone
Your ugly lies
When the ticking stops
Nasty words,
nasty deeds
Will have nasty
consequences
I hold my tongue
as its not me
Your coloured coded lies
they hurt deep
Hacking away at my brain
Your ugly words
releasing the pressure
The release of you
So that I do not explode
I never dropped
the bombshell
You did
All the time
I was sitting
on a time bomb
I sat and watched you
Explode into lies
Only now
I found the truth
Oh Lord, please light my way
And when I get lost guide me
Help me to be the person
That you want me to be.
There are time when I'm feeling lost
With no place to really call my own
And everyday doubts and fears
Poison my mind to my bare bone.
Oh Lord Jesus hear my plea and mold me
To your will just like a pliable clay.
Guide me with your Divine hand
Show me to get out this sinking sand.
Oh Lord please enlighten my heart so
I can't be easily misled by this world
Oh God, thank you for hearing my plea
And thank you for setting me free!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2009
June 16,2009
With bare, bone-dry bureaucratese,
can camouflage their intentions;
with official cordialities,
can disguise their inclinations;
can bury their predilections
with layers of formalities;
can rein in strongest emotions
with theatrical flair and finesse.
All these and the ability
to tell a straight lie sincerely
for national security,
shrewdly, diplomatically,
are the minimum requirements
for state envoys and diplomats
of the world's mighty governments
in global games of dogs and cats!
Past transgressions are all in bloom,
vast like a weed thick in its gloom.
Grabbing up emotional real estate
engulfing whole city blocks at a time.
Time and again reeling you in like a fish.
Making death in all its glory a single wish,
as a smile attempts to grow and spread.
The past comes up and gobbles it whole.
A mistake is a tattoo embedded in your soul
that tears through the flesh and
entangles the nerves like fine mesh.
when the future is now and the sunshines
your past is there with citation and fines.
Forgiveness is fleeting
a mythical beast,
that will dine so grand liken to a feast.
Engulf your soul to bare bone
and wash you ashore broken and alone.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.