Best Apace Poems
as a child,
I perceived
the wonderment
of Clouds.
and elders
likewise contemplated
the curious celebrity of them
the solemnity of shape-shifting skyships
their charity of rain:
encouraging fruit
greening hills
irrigating joys
keeping
watch
around the earth
in as enviable
a perch
as the risen sun
or mystic moon
that guides tides.
sun runs
apace
moon whisks
its baton away
but Clouds
stay high,
perpetual
imprints
covering Space and Time.
Could
Clouds
be God's eyes?
***
when I was
-abecedarian-
counting from one to three,
I licked my lips
at Clouds
reckoning
I'd catch them
like docile butterflies,
and discern the flavors of miracle floss:
must be rose-white sugar
some barley flour
lamb's fleece and goose feathers
the elders, lofty and wise,
disparaged my foolish games.
I tugged
on the edge of their mountainous faces:
wispy chins
transient strands
billowy beards
closest clouds
I'd seen
Proximal nimbi
and their dust trail
of ginger, onion, and clove
pulled pork, frizzled cod, light ashtray
lingered...
I caught
those crazy hairs
so hard
candy-coated
raindrops
fell!
I can't believeth all the things I seeth:
the streets with such strange vehicles which wend
their way so apace liketh those gents fleeth
as metal lions. Nev'r has't i penn'd
a sonnet on such vehicles and highways.
Nev'r has't i hath felt so unbelieving.
I might not but tryeth to traveleth all byways.
Above me in the sky, huge birds art leaving.
Of metal too art those gents, which art of charm.
Oh, mine own, the females showeth their flesh,
and how the men art causes me alarm.
And lo, the air! How can the folks refresh?
Tall buildings, so few farms, and such big towns.
So crazy art the folks h're and their sounds!
Jan. 21, 2023 for Anoucheka Gangabissoon's Shakespeare in 2023 Contest
Translated into Shakespearean English
using English to Shakespearean Translator - LingoJam
(I can't be sure that it's exactly right, but I am hoping this is how they actually talked in those times. To understand my poem better, you can go to Lingojam and just reverse the process translating Shakespearean English back into Modern English!)
PASTORAL
Yes I remember when this was all fields
Patchworked across the vale to chalky down
The cornfield and the pastures and the weald
That fed the hearts and bodies of the town
Yes I recall the footpath that we took
To reach the hamlet and the blessed lake
O’er styles and hedges and the little brook
Where we would stop to give our thirst some slake
Yes I can feel the wind upon my face
That cooled our sweat as we ascend the hill
And as we climbed our minds rose up apace
Then widened loosing bonds to our free will
Yes I now hold the memory in my heart
And see the images as I near sleep
Though they are gone they still remain a part
Of my own world, reside in spirit deep
Submitted: 15 August 2019
N/A in contest: Any Poem You Want to Write 180 words or less
By Caren Krutsinger
I suppose I'm revealin' my age as I compose this little ditty,
But as I compare costs today with yesteryear I exclaim, "What a pity!"
Gas cost 30 cents per gallon and hamburger was 19 cents a pound,
And a buck would atone my sins when collection plates were passed around!
I remember when a haircut cost two-bits at Harry's Barbershop,
And a hotdog cost 15 cents and ya paid a nickel fer a Nehi pop.
A dollar twenty-five bought a lunch of meatloaf and mashed pertaters,
That included a slab of cherry pie and a side of salad with termaters!
It cost a quarter to see 'Gone With The Wind' at the movin' pitcher show,
And fer a tub of popcorn and a coke ya needn't spend a ton of dough!
Double scoop ice cream cones cost a dime and a nickel fer a candy bar.
I remember that a loaf of bread cost 12 cents and a nickel bought a fine cigar!
Ya could buy a suit of clothes and a pair of shoes fer twenty bucks er so,
And a dime would buy ya a couple of donuts to dunk in yer cuppa joe.
A postage stamp cost 3 cents and fer a nickel ya could guzzle a glass of beer,
And a college education cost about 300 smackaroos per academic year!
Fer about 4 bucks ya could treat yer date to a show and banana split,
And later steal a smooch which would cost ya not one whit!
Nowadays fer such necessaries ya must work yer fingers to the bone,
And to keep apace with inflation, find a friendly banker to float a loan!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
The oncoming truck swerved into my lane
And there was not enough time for veering
But I was suddenly relieved from the pain
By a golden horse with hind legs rearing
We galloped straight down the road for apace
And then turned onto a large green expanse
I hung on tightly, not used to a race
Though I was willing to give it a chance
My dull senses were roused on the fresh field
And my pale skin warmed from the sun outside
I slowly loosened my grip and revealed
That I could never fall off if I tried
I shouted out with a vivacious voice
Unlike the one that was used to hiding
With newfound feelings that made me rejoice
Due to the golden horse I was riding
In an instant we reached the tall mountains
That I’d only seen in big picture books
The kind with dreamlike waterfall fountains
That we climbed up without a second look
There were no hurdles too large in our way
Or tough boulders too slippery or coarse
That could in the slightest ever delay
Or stop the progress of my golden horse
We moved as swift as if running downhill
Giving me motive to close my own eyes
But once at the top got an awful chill
When the brave stallion leaped into the skies
This time I shouted out “Why in god’s name
Must I be saddled on this golden horse!?”
For a deed like this is truly insane
Until knowing my death, fulfilled its course
David Fisher-posted on 2/10/2015-For Structured Forms-Iambic Verse Contest
Moist jungle's steaming breath assaults my face
Molasses air I struggle to inhale
Your ruddy visage slowly drains to pale
Sharp cliff, black knife wound in the verdant space
Decrepit footbrige held up by mere grace
Each rope suspended taut by one sole nail
No time for turning back, it's move or fail
Their fever burns, thin lives that wane apace
We're down to you or me; I see I've lost
Your pallid tremors, so I walk on high
Death matters not, as all will share the cost
Without the cure, those that I love will die
Wood creaks as ropes strain, hands sweat, mind of frost
Firm terra I touch, sweet success is mine
7/25/16
A deserted old house stood off the county road a little way.
To keep apace of living I rushed by it almost every day.
For years I'd wanted to visit there to see what secrets it held,
And perhaps find out about the folks who in it had once dwelled.
Towering oaks stood erectly as if to guard the old place.
Clinging vines held weathered clapboards in precarious embrace.
I mused as I opened the latch on the sagging garden gate,
"Why was it forsaken and left in such a forlorn state?"
Floors squeaked and mice skittered as I sauntered down the hall.
Abruptly, something caught my eye on the faded papered wall.
'Twas a grim, unsmiling portrait of a Victorian family of eight.
I wondered who they were and I pondered about their fate.
Off the hall was the parlor where stood a brick-lined fireplace.
I could fancy the cheery flames glowing upon each happy face,
As they celebrated gala affairs or gathered for family prayers.
Alas, the old folks passed on - their children seeking other affairs.
What had been a vibrant, loving home was now a house in shambles,
Almost overtaken by massive oaks, shrubs and tangled brambles.
But my downcast mood was uplifted despite the engulfing gloom,
As I saw roses planted so very long ago now in magnificent bloom!
SHALL I ANTICIPATE APACE TO THEE A STORY,
THROUGH MY HEART TO MIND, FROM NIGHT TILL DAWN YOU WERE A GLORY,
THOUGH BEDRIDDEN, IN MY SENSES AND FEELINGS THOU TOOK A JOURNEY,
PAY ATTENTION AS I VERB THE ANECDOTE OF MY AGONY.
IN MY EYES YOU SMILED AT AN ANGLE,
BUT STILL, YOU’RE BEAUTY!! YOU WRESTLE WITH AN ANGEL,
GENTLY CRAFTED AND CURVED AS A GOBLET, I MELT LIKE A CANDLE,
QUICKLY VISITED MY DREAMS FOR A HUG, AS A SOLDIER WHO RIDE FOR HIS CASTLE.
YOU WALKED LIKE SPRING,
YOUR SOUL COOL AS WINTER AS ITS LAST LEAVES CLING,
AND SMILE LIKE SUMMER WHEN YOU CALL ME YOUR KING,
TO ME YOU’RE EVERYTHING BY EVERYTHING I MEAN ANYTHING.
HOW IT BEGAN, WHETHER BY ME OR THEE I DO NOT KNOW,
FACE AND LIPS TRY TO REACH, BUT SOMETHING TRIES TO BLOW,
ITS 08:15 IN THE MORNING, MY ALARM RANG BEFORE MY LECTURE GAVE ME MY LAST WARNING.
I shoot up above the silent, spellbound crowd,
Gaping down at their bright hands with glassy eyes,
Then I pierce the satin clouds that dress the skies,
And drift in space toward that eternal shroud,
The vast field of stars that angels tilled and plowed.
How the crowd tilts down their heads with gazeless eyes,
Staring tongue-tied at handheld luminous lies!
Yet I, head high in the clouds, remain unbowed.
But what have I found, while the world wastes away?
Some seek lowly lights, others shoot for the stars;
Some keep as pets the very pests they should slay,
Others spread their wings and apace fly away;
To light up the pages of our dim memoirs,
Let us wake up and roar, we must seize the day.
As moonbeams settle softly on her face,
lay bare the gaunt and haggard visage there,
a woman whose whole life was spent in care
for those who ran and won another race.
Those stippled hands, the measure of her grace,
her shriveled arms, now wasting in despair,
her saddened eyes so sorrowful and spare,
a broken soul who cannot keep apace.
Wilting now, her slender body gone,
wishing there were something left to say,
countenance once sparkling, now wan,
as she prepares to make that final trip
to glory, to the everlasting day
when pain no longer whispers from her lips.
Those who stand in grief can only wait
and ponder just what might have been,
but death is drawing nigh, it's much too late,
her appearance now so sallow and so lean.
Thoughts turn to their own brief mortalities,
as they reflect on how they will atone,
and justify their improprieties.
We cannot cheat the Reaper, foil his plan,
and live a life of immortality,
His grip is irresistible, and none
can bypass destiny, its fickle charms,
so may she sleep in peace, in purity,
and rest forever in His loving arms.
Naught But Smoke In The Wind
Ethereal is…as ethereal does
Bundles of atoms is what we be
Empty space wrapped in cosmic fuzz
Electrons trying to break free
We be something…just not very much
We’re not very material atall
Just wee Protons, Neutrons and such
Smooshed all together in a ball
Yet we think…reason and wonder
What our place in the cosmos is
Question, posit and ponder
Is there more, or is this all there tis?
Our origins are in the furnaces of space
Our destinies as fickle as the weather
Our lives be brief, but our souls stay apace
…Our atoms fate…is to live forever…
POETIC BIO
Alliteration,the starting place, alongside
cinquains,apace in time,crystalline
lanterne and rhyme.Inspiration drew forth
footle,broken monoku for a while short
imagist was my style.Sequenced longer
poems metamorphose within this crysallis
changing into ekphrasis.Open,and free to be,
as you see,structured prose poetry.With
cadence and pause,others hear my voice,
aural phrasis now this poet’s choice.
as exampled below
What intimacy is its cause,perhaps
an immaculate conception of words;
too swift to comprehend,see or
recognise.The moment is there
and then is not.Gone with the wind
the seed of idea remains, to
germinate and gestate,fanned by a
mental fragrance of elation.Slowly
self-transcending a word into a phrase,
a sentence to a strophe;a rhyme
rides a waterfall of cadence,
into a chasm of verse. Terse or
long, the sonnet becomes a little song,
struggles to arrive.Thrust forth upon
my page;a bastard-born of pain
Broken dreams, and smiles and flowers
Grow apace throughout our fervid hours
The times of wreaths and solemn nods
The dearth; some worth and serried sods.
The gathered few or many more
The muted laughs, cross creaking floors
The everyday, it pervades; this all
It’s a gamut run; Christmas to fall
We often can’t; yet sometimes will
Observe our promise to hold our wills!
Forgive our sins we fall so short
Send angels Lord for we are bought.
With blood and Love, not fully of this earth
The sun moon, stars do bow, their worth.
©Joe Maverick 13-11-2022
cunning whist’red the wind
through bulwarks of my youth
cloaked in kindness its sly craft
masked in plotting feign’d truth
the scent of damp stone and moss
clung to my marrow
voices in each gust
defiant i stood on the brink
slumber’ring in ire’s enlace
with sly deceit danced outcome
and beguiled dreams took stage apace
the bitter tang of shadowed air
the quell of trembling leaves
twilled with the evil of withheld grace
vain are stars that once foretold
boast not what thou’st dealt
the conqueror an umbral mist walks
in wilderness where none hath knelt
soil crumbles underfoot
cold dew bites the ankles of night
sweet—and awful—sang the muteness
after the third new moon pass’d
grim hunger prevails
hangs where sojourners draw breath
their last
the coppery taste of fear
lingers in the throat
as stillness gnaws the spectral lungs
not for bread i starve
but for meaning
in vale and entombed mountain roam
judgment echoes field and forest
sunward songs mount toward doom
rustle of leaf
bark-scratch under nails
carry the weight of unseen eyes
thorn’d breaths of abyssal wind
my failing prostrate i ascribe
to flagrant flame
incurably untam’d
a whirling squall of dissipation
drunkenness of nameless claim
the acrid smoke of wasted fire
licks the tongue of legacy
shadow’d cinders curl in the mind
indignation binds me captive
a dungeon endless dark and grim
vile guilty stricken wholly
no mortal left to shield or limb
chains clash rattle in marrow’s obscurity
iron scents the air with accusation
yet manifest soulless one
fervent fierce and torn
momentary affliction sways
in transient shape of mourn
cool sweat bitter ashen traces
mingle with tremor of fleeting heart
tired i am
weak i am
worn i am
yet still
i rise
though wretched rent
to meet the sweet and awful dawn
with every scar fetch’d and spent
light trembles on dew-beaten leaves
first air pungent and raw
fills lungs with promise
of endurance
cunning whist’red the wind
Summer fading, Autumn draws near
Apace, a waft murmur hum so clear
Bold aroma of petrichor gather
Upon pulse lands color plants
Rains journey row by row
Nature sounds amid thinning amber leaves,
Neath calm of shadow deciduous trees
Tinder blaze of golden colors under
Unhurried, yet empowering wonder
early morn sunlight
beguiling nesting birds chirp~
pond languidly moves
9/6/2020
Writing Challenge - Nature, Four In One - Poetry Contest
1. A single Crystalline - 2 lines, 8/9 or 9/8 syllables
2. A single Kimo- 3 lines, 10/7/6/ syllables
3. Your choice of form (post under this form) ** ie, rhyme, free verse, etc
4. A single haiku- nature (no humanity), 3 lines, 5/7/5 syllables
Sponsored by: Constance La France