Best Atry Poems
I like it cool and I like it dark.
Long deep sleep makes me grrhhhhh.
Wake me, I'm a nasty mother.
My stride is slow, and low, and mean.
Piss me off, I dare you.
I'll show you how cuddly I can be.
Food binges turn me on,
Bring it all, I can handle it.
But watch your back,
You can't walk all over me anymore.
* *
*
I'm waiting for you.
Next time, you're dinner.
Contest
If I Were An Animal, What Would I Be?
Brenda Atry
5/12/2011
Somewhere past the fallen limbs
Of old tangled oaks and elm
Breaking silence as lighting dims
Rushing whispers split the realm
Mocking silence with a hush
It slicks the stones of shallow brook,
Exalting in babble with a gush,
I turn to take a humble look.
Searching fluid sounds of creation
Articulating His wordless voice,
Tears fall dryly at my sublimation
To waters endless song , rejoice.
Brenda Atry
September 28, 2011
Urgent Call for Love
The evil axis has been burning
Who rules the land? It’s now very vague.
The second son must get out of old Al Sham
And meet the hungry jury in The Hague
The puppet is hanging by his last string
And the judgment day is sure to come
Forty thousand martyrs will be singing
As they join me in my urgent call for love.
The war machine is pregnant and is bloated.
Money births an icy, rigid son.
He grows up in the muck of all this madness,
It arms its addled brother with a gun.
In my world, war is not an option,
Let’s end the chaos with a silken glove
Murdered angels soar among the heavens
Please join me, in my urgent call for love.
I’d love to build a mass market dart board
With mug shots of the Senators and House
I’d load it on an App and shoot the darts off
With the quiet, perfect clicking of my mouse.
How can these servants bow before their master?
When Moses had already freed his tethered load?
Make them testify before the one judge
And answer to our urgent call for love
Some years ago a scholar lost his lectern
Because somebody stole my vote away
He spoke his truth in defense of climate
And was told let’s fix it later, not today
When the perfect storm came a calling
It blew our measured lives and hopes astray
My Mother, here’s an olive branch and white dove
I surrender to the urgent call for love.
The pleading skies and rivers, they have warned us
Their voices rose to wail their tortured song
The veins of life, they have been all corrupted
And darkness has been blinding us in fog.
Insanity bathes in its make shift chambers
It soaks in a vile and filthy marble tub.
Please join in my call for our salvation,
I am humbled, in my urgent call for love.
Brenda Atry 1/1/2013 copyright pending
Black Diamond Night
Life is a cruel wench, a beckoning tramp, she is.
Sprawling wide open to draw us into her erotic nectar.
She whispers lurid words which promise to forestall
The imminent erosion, of illusionary perfection.
The promise of a tomorrow? Few have the inherent structure,
To challenge her guile, humming quiet, sweet victory.
Only the ancient one, who hides beneath our vision,
When wrenched from the rock, is still perfect in her imperfection.
Dawn loses its battle to dusk, and returns again to be defeated
In an endless, biblical battle. The waves wash up on the shore
Wrenching the sands from pounded beaches; only to spew up
Again and be dumped ashore by the evenings rushing tides.
I lie on my back, on a beach, gazing up at dark stars,
On this black diamond night, sadly, wiser.
Brenda Molmod Atry 8/14/2012
To My Children
Your teeth are green.
Your hot breath reeks.
Your room is a mess.
Your clothing stinks.
Your voice is loud.
Your ears are deaf.
I am your maid
and personal chef.
I'm proud of you
and all your traits
Cause I'm the one
Who made you great.
Brenda Atry
Life is a bastard son, prodding the fertile horizon
poking into places tender, tearing the expanse of dawn
he taunts, rude and bellicose, so full of himself
spewing into the weakest streams, a wet dream.
With platitudes he prances, son of a fearsome father
promising eternity, singing a lover's song of praise.
Light bearer, holder of the golden scalpel, night cutter
leaving glare where softness once held sway.
May the abyss, the gentle dark, the yin forgive you..son.
From the pear-shaped loins of sister Eve, you have burst
washed in the waters of she, a caul of white adorned,
pray, stay your hand, do not bludgeon your better half.
Existence, endless, fleeting, meld and join this randy pair
for universes swing between this bastard and his dreams.
Dedicated to my muse Brenda Atry
please read her "Black Diamond Night"
Winter bequeaths you.
Velvet crocus tease my flesh.
The tides thirst for more.
Brenda Molmod Atry
Copyright February, 2018
#YouandMeandHimandHerAndThemAndUs
Writers wrong readers with wiles
Please protect poetry and prose
From flagrant fraudulent fancies
Of overwritten odius odes.
A related collection of poetry
Now can be published at whim.
The author just needs lots of money,
Hubris,and perhaps a few pencils or pens.
Once the selection is published,
Layman will fawn at the elequent jewels,
Of eight words of lithe, flowery meter,
Grouped together by formal,old rules,
You and I know better,we can't be fooled.
Another anthology appears
Boldly boasting ballades
Can't construct cinquain
Ditto deconconstructing didactic
Easy efforts elevate essentially
Fabulous flippery, fun, fauxmance.
Give gifts ,gaity, glory
Hide hyperbole ,hail honesty
Ignore idiosincricy
Jubilant jeweled jots,
Krielle knowledge,
Luminates lovers learning.
Masters manage monoku
No one notices nonsense
Only ones own oratory
Presents problems personally
Quatern quixotically quizes
Rhymers,readers, royalaires.
Simples statements said softly
Translate terse tense truthfully
Unless unabridged
Villanelles vex vaguries
Written without wordiness
Yes,you yearn, yearn yonder
Zee's zero
For Deb's Challenge A A and a Mistress
Brenda Atry
old river flows hushed
blood and tears, silent weeping
children are slaughtered
Haiku December 29, 2012
Brenda Atry
Rage Against The 12 Kings
On icy thrones, they sit on high,
And pull the strings of average men.
Their governing, silent, ruthless,
As potent and lethal as venom.
They pull strings of mere mortals,
Presidents, Premiers,Dictators,
Tugging these chosen with vindictive force,
Assuring the subjugation is understood.
What can we do,powerless,stricken,unheard,
As the 12 Kings rule from up high?
Behind the ash of burning cities,
With shields of concealment and ruse.
Creators of demons, that exist only in fear,
Liars, twisted minds pocked with deceit,
Money guzzling, shape shifters all,
As they spin their yarns of terror.
I rage against the self crowned dozen.
I long for the judgement that ends their treason.
I cry for humanity that drifts with Dante's souls
In the winds of purgatory below icy thrones.
Brenda Atry
5/23/2011
December 12.2012
The scales are balanced, great joys ,vast heartache, deep rooted love.
Age withered appetite ,no food, nor travel desired, memories rekindle want ,but not drive.
A weekend with Hugh Jackman can surely re whet my palate, oh wolverine on high!
Brenda Atry December , 2012
Never
Think that I have
Lost or forgotten dreams
That we shared one night long ago.
Never
Brenda Atry
5/14/2011
Five Lines Down Poetry Competition
The breeze glides on scent
Sweet fresh breath of dawn's moist dew
Sun's first kiss of day
Haiku
5/31/2011
Brenda Atry
Reeling from the news,
Life did not turn out as planned.
It turned out better.
A celebratory haiku by
Brenda Molmod Atry
4/23/2011
Two men under the altar
Marraige vows will be spoken.
Six days until the wedding.
*
Bride will arrive soon.
Wedding Rehearsel Dodoitsu
Brenda Atry
5/14/2011