Best Alluvial Poems
The hawk lay upon the lazy late afternoon
air currents;
Floating, circling, spiraling, ever downward.
Its wings spread wide, white feather-tips splayed.
It teetered on the updraft
above the terraced alluvial plains
in the lea of the Himalayas.
Landing with a compression of desire
upon the crumbling limestone outcropping,
It stood preening.
Waiting,
For the next breeze.
Categories:
alluvial, adventure
Form:
Personification
thoughts lick at my consciousness
distracting me from the warm embrace
of the colour pallet unfolding
I stare with myopic eyes at the kaleidoscope
endeavouring to discern the demarcation
of the edge of each shade
naming them as though they are listed on a colour chart
displayed at the local hardware store
but as soon as I have one splash of tint pinned down
it fades to be replaced by a more pleasing explosion of colour
a child’s toy impatiently twirled
a rainbow snipped into a multitude of shapes
in never to be repeated patterns
like an uxorious husband
it enfolds the evening sky in its loving embrace
its fleece soft fingers exploring
lulled into a unison of consent
with a barely perceptible rush of contentment
a slight sibilant sigh issues
memorialising daylight
clinging to the fringes of observation
the scene depicts its titular character
of moral decay
the riparian area jealously guards its supremacy
as hydrophilic plants are robbed of their splendour
in a final display of defiance
alluvial fans buffet against the offing
recombobulating
the natural order of Chaos:
The Great Deep of ancient mythology
Categories:
alluvial, nature,
Form:
Free verse
I hold it up again today; the world,
Pregnant with magical dimples
Of a child's reckless abandon,
And look at the face,
Then I look at the deep cut
And the pain it inflicted
I look back at the unpaid ransom,
The whips, hands chained to the back
Faces buried deep into the cold wall,
The so-called wall of the world, soaked
By the tears of our raped eyes.
I have seen the world through and through;
The sweet bitterness of living and dying,
The joyful agony of getting and losing;
The memories come clear like crystal
And the weak world whirls by unconsciously
Taking us down its untrodden alluvial depths
And scattering silence nearby and abroad:
Those are the world's worth!
Who amongst us does not have a story?
The world is killing us, thinking, perhaps
That there is sudden rebirth in each death
But those we lost are gone forever
And we bite our lips and rub our eyes,
Alas! Another phenomenon has been lost.
Like a cherished effigy
I hold it up again, the wild world
The nuance feeling surges like thousand waves
And I listen as different sharp sounds
Of cries, nay, moans pierce my ears,
The tears fall in torrents like a waterfall.
The earth, our unconcerned world is killing us,
Like little ants...it kills us with sledgehammer,
Hypothetical villain lurking by street corners
Waiting and waiting, almost impatiently.
But we love the world, and so much so
We cling to life, despite the odds
We want to live, love and be loved,
We want to experience and explore the depths.
We have been heart broken again and again,
And each time we heal
We lick our wounds and clean our tears
Trying to protect our battered ego.
We hold it up again and again
Like a cherished effigy, smiling
Notwithstanding our heaps of unfulfilled dreams,
Our not-to-clear future, our unheard cry-cracked voices,
Despite the rigours of the trite rituals
Of our religions, our creeds, our norms;
Despite the guns, the bombs, the blades
That cut us clean and shatter our unborn hopes,
We still cuddle our earth like a cherished effigy
Dressed to pattern by virgin children
While it takes us down one after another
Jubilantly like a well trained military marksman.
Alas! Another phenomenon has been gone.
Categories:
alluvial, bereavement, death, heartbroken, memorial,
Form:
Epitaph
There’s a fire burning across the levee
I can smell the cypress and water oaks burning
The Indians are burning spirits tonight
A drive down River Road along the Mississippi
A fog bank
Memories of river crossings and ferries
I drift with the wood
Waiting to find a place to rest
The smoke from the fires brings shadows of death
Black and white and embers of souls lost to floods
The ground is fertile here
And I plant my soul
Upon this alluvial plain
Waiting for the water to cover me up
And then recede, giving me a chance for life
It has been recorded for centuries
The cycle goes on
Why can’t I lie in the fields and acquire the same
Lie here I must but nothing happenings
Am I not in convergence with earth and that entire circumference
I guess I am an imposter
Willing to spend the time but not the philosophy
And so I lay here spent by time and money
Nothing can bring me to you
Your spying eye is so keen.
And my mind is so dull to human feeling
Tis’ a shame for we could have lived so happily in perfect harmony
Now I must rise up and scream for latitude. It is not fair.
It will never be fair for I am stuck here in my class. Neither moving up or down.
Stuck forever in the primordial pond.
Categories:
alluvial, body, bullying, character, courage,
Form:
Free verse
When I was skinned
I made a little list-
Call it (Something Here) :
It started out,
'I am getting older,
what should I do? '
Like go on the road,
Actually join the Legion or
Take vows for the ashram of Guru SatChitAnanda.
.
Buy acre of land and travel trailer
Raise garden, keep White Leghorns
(like Dad) ,
Foment Graduate School riots,
Teach,
Commit suicide with tea
Commit horoscopes for money
Or go home or
Sell health foods and
Grind my own peanut butter
Drive a Big Rig
Ten days on the road
Eating fries and dogs
Or
Take a job with the state
As employment counselor
Give out food stamps.
Walk across Africa
Without shoes,
Establish base lines for jumping beans
Test kangaroos for tie-downs
Photograph mangoes in flight
Or herd silver-plated ants,
Forest Ranger in Chromium Forest,
Study ancient petroglyphs for Shell
Herd sheep on mesas in Utah
Wander High Desert in search of
New alluvial fans,
Search for aliens in Rachel (NV)
Put all on a number in Vegas,
(List ends here):
Call the President,
I've got a job
In Trust, (some state here) ,
Job Duties:
Replacing Wisdom Teeth
Milking dry rattlers
Finding wild women
Listening for Agave worms,
Raising desert flowers
And sitting quietly with the stars,
'There you go...'
'Thanks! '
Categories:
alluvial, career, jobs, satire,
Form:
Free verse
The Tigris and Euphrates,
they flow like time,
murmuring and sighing
and running their individual courses,
cradling Mesopotamia,
their land,
in life,
and flooding the plain in alluvial soil,
for cities to put down deep roots,
the wonder of humanity.
Categories:
alluvial, allusion, life, love, miracle,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Along Iran's alluvial fan,
spanned a virgin, untested
train
A scourging blight the tender,
fecund suckers did restrain
A heartier tulip bloomed on
Tunisia's arid plain
A docile wave the royal
Jasmine blight to stain
Transplanted in Egypt; a more
fertile strain
Leaching the arid soil, the
tyrannical oasis did drain
A hybrid sprouted on Libya's
fallow terrain
Fertilized by a torrential,
nitrous rain
To Oman's tepid steppes,
uncultivated varieties shrouded
fenced row and lane
Disparate pods releasing
incendiary seeds seeking an
aggregate gain
In Syria's suburban parks a
mutant variety skirted eminent
domain
With underground cisterns to
water it's hostile mane
In desolate Sudan, a floral
chalice did simulated hope
contain
Anon, pilfering hands it's
potting soil did obtain
Categories:
alluvial, allegory,
Form:
Rhyme
VASILY ZAYTSEV
As nature took me back into times,
To witness sadden and heroic events filled with cries, It was very soul engulfing that I couldn’t stand to witness,
But was compelled by purpose to attend.
Old time landed me safely at STARLINGARD
I beheld a sniper riffle upon a raised platform,
The shooter as I approached diminished,
And I couldn’t say something to him,
I followed my way from starlingard,
Up to YELENINSKOYE ORENBURG, There the story began.
Songs were heard in a family,
A son came into the cosmo,
With a saddened task facing him,
Unknown was it to him,
Destiny and fate moulded him in,
That was VASILY ZAYTSEV The hero of Starlingard.
Gradually he grew into a finetaker,
Tracked down a wolf with only a bullet as a kid he was satisfied, Without a view of his role in Starlingard,
Due to Hitler's territorial conquest.
Troops marching out in thousands,
Outnumbering the alluvial sands,
The hope of the world was towards Starlingard,
Since the soviet union subdued by Hitler.
Starlingard became a stronghold,
Because of the undying spirit of men in the patriotic war.
Assigned to the 1047th Riffle Regiment,
Vasily was the pride of the company which later was named 62nd army at Starlingard,
That was on 17th September 1942,
Vasily started shooting around the axis
Zealous as he was on the battlefield,
A sniper concealing his locations,
Covering a large area from three positions, Known as the "sixies" up till today.
Killing 11 scores plus armed men including 11 snipers. Making It 32 axis killings.
Undiluted spirit of enthusiasm,
Towards conquering enemies at the gates,
Manifested by his perfect shootings,
Calculating the bearings of directions of his sniper,
Diminishing enemies until he conquered,
To him there was no land beyond the ''VOLGA''
ANYABOLU IFEANYI GENTLE
Categories:
alluvial, tribute, veterans day, war,
Form:
Epic
lichen heart,
of mossy bones,
kerosene humors in burning veins;
this anxiety in the night;
like walking wounded,
needle toe,
jumping at the squeal;
ink well vertigo,
dark in the blacklight;
random is a thought,
careless is the impulse,
closet full of negligent whim,
soul on the rim of a colder pool;
shroud stains on old linen,
warmed by a dying sun;
alluvial void,
rancid with a forgotten carcass,
standfast in heavy air,
chained in the lowest gaol;
stepping flatfooted in a strangler's garden,
held parchment crumbles as old leather,
words words words,
flowing freely,
associated with nothing,
powdered creation,
mad quinine for malaise,
tonic for a weirding way;
brief midnight interlude,
for a panic stricken insomniac,
howling at the sally port,
a last kiss goodnight,
as Morpheus turns away.
Categories:
alluvial, confusion,
Form:
Free verse
DEDICATION: To Paul : Tristich Series
I
Out of uttermost, depths, disappointments, baby deaths ...
We have forgiven God, the forgiveness He began in spaciousness
Our suffering is the portal to discovery: Abba-Father suffered Eden's losses
II
If we have any heirs, they'll welcome us in heaven alongside Jesus
And Trinity loved Eve as dearly as They did Adam, yet parted with Yeshua
To get more sons and daughters; Isaiah sang "It pleased God to crush Him
III
This is why we can face a spouse, loss after loss: heirs, land, home
Suffering is the only portal to take us beyond suffering: like sin, alluvial gold!
Easy to find, preciously, invaluably turning us away from here to there: my Home
Categories:
alluvial, allegory, atheist, forgiveness, freedom,
Form:
Tristich
WITH RAIN CAME LOVE
Cool breeze
Cumulus clouds
Breeze solidifies,
Drizzling
Monsoon rain
White threads move to
Heavy shower.
Rain smiles
And with rain came love.
Long journeys
Longing leaning on his back
In the valley
Where meteors shower
Unexpected momentary moments
Eddied life,
Glimpses like water bubbles
Shadows overpowered specks of lights
Specks of laurels
Sudden borders to dreams
Yonder in the sky departing clouds
Swollen rain clouds
Lustre obscure
Renunciation with disinterest
Rain and love spreading over
Love brought silence
Mermaids, water nymphs
Stood guard.
We went close at heels
Along turbulent back waters
We sat, in grief
In rain and mystifying silence
Passion delivered
And kept in store
Spread over us.
Rain peeping through
Birch trees
Rain lashing through
Gulmohar
Geography of silence
Without a speck of dirt
Pious communion
Of love and rain.
Wailing hornbills, compassionate
Invoked rain
She saw us in deep grief
Grief of life-
Love in deep sleep blushed into
Wakefulness.
Longing, sights and rude realities
Cosmic force showers
Moments of eternal bliss.
In steep valley of sterility
Ascetic sun winked
At welcome clouds
Dryness transplanted
Into alluvial softness.
Rude faces, sights and longings
Lost way,
Emerged throbbing passion.
Showers of love,
Showers of mystic bliss.
Categories:
alluvial, lost love, rain, water,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Chipped mountains
With the condor eyes
Flaked by some sinister
Grey hounds of the rocks.
This is a place
For reflections
Stranding together
Some multiple fractions.
Wider vistas
Opening to alluvial lands
Geared in the high plateau
Imposing on winding river
Designs of their hoary hands.
Beyond the granite walls
There is a flutter of green
Decked by plaited yellow
Where little humming bird flings
Sipping nectar from each mellow.
Alone amid sacred valleys
Gushing waters of the flow
Of meandering Urubamba
Guarded by the temples
Fortresses of the Pisac
Amid Machu-Picchu’s glow.
Drenched in past memories
The ushered in Rio Urubamba
Of the sacred cannons flows
Amid sedges in forests of rain
Protected by spirits of Amazon.
Categories:
alluvial, inspirational
Form:
Lyric
in the far fringe of a woody island
with a river slithering along in gentle leaps
and a mud road stretching behind
there is a solitary hut
visible through the patches
of light and shadow
with its precincts lapped by the waves
and the rich alluvial soil
engendering trees of robust growth
in it, live a man and wife
a pair made for each other!
their likes and longings
blend and bleed into oneness
they grow in the joy of a living love
making life a celebration in a rare way
their humble hut is always blessed
by seasonal fruits from trees of tropical kind
where giant trees stand watch over
loaded with jack fruits and tangy mangoes
with creepers in greener leaves
and their foliage, ever in a merry dance
latching and intertwining their tendrils
their dinner, rich with fresh fish
caught through angling
in which both engage in the evenings
in the air, there is a subdued roar
made by the swish and swirls of life
but in the silent interstices
between the rush and blur
there descends a heavenly peace
when their souls go on a dance
making theirs a happy home
sweeter than all mansions of gold
A Strand (1047) Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Brian Strand
Categories:
alluvial, beauty, blessing, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
Tigris, Idigna, Idiqual,
watering parched desert lands
of Mesopotamia.
Swift it flows on the East
toward the sea, from
the once fertile Garden of Eden.
Arterial blood of arid lands,
of transportation,
of trade and commerce.
In spring, mountain snowmelt
tumbles and rushes downward,
flooding alluvial plains for farming,
sharing its life-giving waters
from time immemorial to villages,
towns, and great cities.
Categories:
alluvial, history, river,
Form:
Free verse
URUBAMBA.
Chipped mountains
With the condor eyes
Flaked by some sinister
Grey hounds of the rocks.
This is a place
For reflections
Stranding together
Some multiple fractions.
Wider vistas
Opening to alluvial lands
Geared in the high plateau
Imposing on winding river
Designs of their hoary hands.
Beyond the granite walls
There is a flutter of green
Decked by plaited yellow
Where little humming bird flings
Sipping nectar from each mellow.
Alone amid sacred valleys
Gushing waters of the flow
Of meandering Urubamba
Guarded by the temples
Fortresses of the Pisac
Amid Machu-Picchu’s glow.
Drenched in past memories
The ushered in Rio Urubamba
Of the sacred cannons flows
Amid sedges in forests of rain
Protected by spirits of Amazon.
Categories:
alluvial, imagination
Form:
Narrative