Best Arrival Poems
Wait a minute, in my dream last night
I met the guy who fit just right
Vivid memory coming through
Of me finally meeting you
Golden purple dreamy haze
Moments caught inside your gaze
Touches, kisses, magic, whole
In this dream filled time we stole
Laughing, grinning, soft caresses
Holding hearts and healing stresses
Exploring childlike what we bring
Playful Fingers wandering
I've held your hand inside my mind
Now it's warmth is real this time
I've seen your face and your eyes staring
And now I feel their gentle caring
Your taste your touch your look and smell
Tantalizing treat, all is well
Electric senses, heart pounds like thunder
Kiss your body with gentle wonder
Legs and arms like tree roots twisted
Sweet sensations, bodies misted
Grinning wide with tickled feet
Outrageously perfect and complete
Once upon a long time,
The silence blanketed my world
Like snow covering an arctic forest.
The nooks and crannies of my days
Were filled with the wispy webs of quietude
Worked by whispering limbs
Mine was a vast tundra
Of silence
Across which great unheard herds
Of thoughts could roam
Freely, gambol and graze
Encountering nothing to disturb them
Rivulets of words
Gathered and trickled
Over the schisty shingles
Of my mind
Eons passed
But one cold, silent, snow flaked January morning
A pioneer strode manfully, meaningfully
Into my wilderness without warning.
Falling in love with all that he saw
He began to sharpen his axe.
Now the hordes of herds have all but disappeared
And the rivulets have been dammed and channelled
Into a thousand subterranean pipes
And there is TV and MTV and DVD and MP3
And my world
Is rich with sound.
stillness …
save a twittering bird ...
hand on clarity, hardness -
fingers spread
opposing - jets of oily black octopus ink, (resembling)
decanted, manipulated, channeled
barbed circles coalesce
language as beauty?
as malleable substance?
oh, indeed ...
swirled and crimped with astonishing intent
into intricate spherical patterns
(of non-linear orthography)
hello ... what are you ...
your names ... mine
and ultimately, why -
why are you here?
can you feel me tremble?
can you sense that I sense how feeble a creature I am -
how formidable and dreadfully beautiful I find you?
are you as taken with my atomity
as I am with your grandeur?
can we find, here, amidst opalescence and ethereality
a place of concurrence?
(time is fluid)
can we weave a kinship from our difference?
(a divide as great as the ocean of suns that swims above us)
or are we, in our reciprocal ignorance
doomed to a tragic misreckoning?
pray not, that ...
for your awful, awesome elegance
and your fierce utterances ...
take my breath.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Strand Select D Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Now,
as the rain falls in tiny droplets on the ground
and the breeze is wafting scents of petrichor,
a soothing oil released by dried decaying plants
that longed in thirst for reprieve from the burning heat;
only
the rush of wind hustled high in the tree tops sings
brushing gently the leaves upon each branch
pining in oaken roasted acorns and chestnuts,
pinging and popping on the sun drenched fires of autumn.
Teasing and tantalized
the senses breathe in deeply
the musk of the forest
where leafy residue, pine needles and fronds pale
in the rise of autumn cascading arrivals.
Coated foliage colored rainbows
lilt hues of yellows, orange and reds,
disfigured curls browning in the last of summer heat
to welcome and bare the mighty sheaths and torsos
that the forest leaves behind in memory of spring.
An equinoctial sundial
marking the trajectory of earth and sun
the rise and fall of time and space
upon the earthen realm of seasons change
greeting autumn, goodbyeing summer, fireside winter hibernation.
As the morning carries different bird song
My body stirs from its cozy slumber, begone
Aloft to the mountains volcanized hard crest
Dark clouds beat upon its jagged green breast
Then raindrops fall down in a long mighty yawn
The sun fights back to bring on the silvery dawn
So full are the colors of rainbow phenomenon
I wake to nature’s bounty completely impressed
Like sitting at the table as a humble breakfast guest
To see her splendor spun in swirls of bright chiffon
Green is the valley that man tills with his brawn
Growing rich gifts of the land it does spawn
As dawn wanes to noon for earths timely request
I let go of the morning feeling happily blessed
My head filled with pictures nature has drawn
written 9-22-2019
copy right protected 2019 Jeanne McGee
San Pedro, Guatemala
Arrival
When I came to the castle,
everything was dead.
I had no idea that meant me as well?
I had run from a "land" that sucked,
life from its people,
for so long,
they no longer noticed.
Undead walking,
wistfully running nowhere.
The place echoed,
and stinging bugs covered the floors,
just here and there, beware.
No front windows the back ones…cracked.
I took it, there was nowhere to go, back?
Better to live among,
the mean “real” monsters that die easy,
than those that live to stab another day.
The roof was caved in, there was no kitchen.
The bathroom worked, thank God.
“Honey, it is okay, lots of people shower outside.”
My kid’s think I’m funny,
Now I am just eccentric.
But, they are all grown, yet I am not alone.
My dog, a bird, and fish in the pond…
Amen.
. * *
* * **
* * Happy *
* * feelings *
* * coming *
* * my way *
* ************************** because *
/ * /* /********************** you are *
** **** arriving now * *
The world became a magic place again. ***********
* *
* *
* *
* *
* *
* *
* *
It must feel good to say at last
The ceiling is shattered
And the door is open
It must feel good
But I looking at the ceiling
Think of icy rains
Monitors on my feet instead of chains
Weevils dancing in the hoarded grains
And blind men wiping at dark blood stains
It must feel good at last to belong
To see your face on the totem pole
Hear the world sing your song
Muting the lyrics meaning about the cold
Clouds hover around the slate colored mountain
Like puffs of smoke lurking in the gray sky
But there’s not a fire, it is a rainy day
With the sun only spitting rays to break through
The dark looming clouds and damp air all around
The grass is wet and the trees are standing still
Strong storms are forecast to be on the way
Everything seems motionless, waiting for arrival
Maybe nature’s loud voice will break this silence
With new sounds to hear and more light to see
Heidi Sands
7/23/20
The cool chill of the winter
Shivers down, the spine of trees
Leaves harden with frost
As sun brings warmth
Helping grass from coming cold
The sea was a whisper before it was water,
cleaved through the wind.
I stepped into its silver mouth,
waves curling something pressing in
a wistful longing for a past I never knew.
Seagulls traced ethereal designs across the expanse
their wails scattered like fragments.
Somewhere underneath the foam,
the past was fossilized within sedimentary strata
waiting for my hands to delve deep enough to find it.
The tide came in more forcefully
and I thought of to how love in this way
always arriving, always leaving---
sometimes tender, sometimes intense enough
to split the coast in two.
When it ebbed, it left behind more than remnants of a disaster,
it embodied the ideal I sought;
calmed by the steady undulations of the sea,
gleaming in calmness;
as if the tide dredged up
on the verge of being forgotten.
It was dead on arrival,
no chance of survival,
the tiny brown mouse.
She did it again,
my cat gifting friend,
at least it's not loose in the house..
Be it mouse or shrew,
would make a potent rodent stew, but
not so appealing to me.
Stir it until blue,
and put it in a witches brew
but I won't want that recipe.
To the people of the earth, we convey this greeting.
We are quite anxious for this long-awaited meeting.
Coming in peace, we are your cousins, as once before.
In a few hours, we’ll be reunited once more.
You will recognize us; our appearance you will know.
We see the sun we once shared ten million years ago.
The planet’s orbit remains between Venus and Mars.
History is forgotten, but we remember ours.
Our first arrival was with the great reptiles roaming.
Something happened, and we could not save them from dying.
Your entire world was completely warm and tropical.
This appeared to be the ideal place for our people.
Our interstellar travel made us masters of space.
However, we knew nothing of climate in this place,
or evolution and genetics within our race.
Your planet is in a section of isolation.
It takes many years to reach your civilization.
Our starships would be bringing news from the galaxy.
They would land three or four times in every century.
Your earth was once a constant tropical paradise.
However, climactic changes covered it with ice.
A strange phenomenon caused some harmless mutations.
Some of us were immune. There were no alterations.
This did not kill, or cause destructive physical harm.
It did start to arouse inevitable alarm.
Two separate groups arose over thousands of years.
Suspicion was perpetuated and caused great fears.
Those who did not leave earth sank into barbarism.
Envy, discord, and conflict were caused by the schism.
We had thought the end came for your civilization.
Your first radio signals gave us indication
that your culture has survived all these millennia.
This discovery has given us euphoria.
We see you have made your long ascent from savagery.
We are here to restore the long-lost fraternity.
We have uncovered much since we abandoned the earth.
Now that you are re-discovered, there will be much mirth.
Perpetual tropical climate, we will restore.
You won’t have to withstand freezing winters anymore.
With genetic mutation, there’s no need to endure.
For your offensive, yet harmless plague, we have a cure.
For what is now wrong, we have the power to make right.
Only let us know how many of you are still white.
Based on the short story "Reunion" by the late Arthur C. Clarke
Wrapped in the whitest of robes
An icy crown on her head
Winter makes her grand entrance
The earth falls asleep.
11/5/15
For Heather Ober's Winter Dodoitsu contest
Autumn's Arrival
Leaves radiate vivid colors beautifying elms mesmerizing dubious eyes
Seized out of wooden closets woolen sweaters and scarfs would suffice
Warm breezes bade goodbye to an impending avalanche of glacial chill
Nights endure longer as stars paint panoramic scenes in silken vermeil
Stoking tinder in campfires country bumpkins imbibe whiskey and rum
Driver sporting Victorian gear embark on a horse and buggy tryout run
City dwellers undermine tourists upending stores plowing for a bargain
Autumn awaiting raindrops summon the skies to rain upon a mountain
01/17/2018
12:21 A.M.
West Palm Beach
Florida