Best Bight Poems
She floats into a room and voices hush,
the silence at effulgence in her bloom,
as crimson rises to her cheeks in blush
to humble scarlet gardens and their plume.
The gown in velvet bides her every curve,
smooth bight of rivers on to ocean's sway
that in such pastel presence do observe
how her translucence rivals light of day.
Though gentle white alyssum may surround
while saffron bloom the jonquils in their wake,
her coif in glinting chestnut is thus crowned
as alder trees beside an autumn lake.
A memory in oil is all she leaves,
but luster as in life she still achieves.
GENESIS
On the writhing shoreline’s shifting sand
The thrust of the immovable hard land
Under the foaming white wedding dress of the ocean
Resolves their differences, puts their destiny in motion.
In endless rhythm of sheer strife,
The soft all-pervading giver of life
Swells o’er the sure-faced surface of her mate,
To and fro, in and out, in a perfect fit.
She shapes the hardness of the land and he,
Massively strong, just as surely shapes the sea :
The end of one is the beginning of the other -
On the shoreline - this father and mother
Share the task, create and shape
Each bay and bight, each coast and cape.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sonnet written by Sydney Peck 23 January 2012 for Francine’s contest.
Theme : lasting love
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
*This idea for this poem was ”inspired by”
( hi-falutin language for “stolen from” )
Andrea D’s LAND-OCEAN haiku. Thank you A D.
How fragile we all are
Words break our souls
Until we have nothing to endure
Still we come back, asking for more, " Use, me, want me, because that makes me feel needed."
Who do you think you are, taking my feelings for granted?
You twist and turn until I become unhinged.
I am only good now, never when I am in need.
I now know people like you, and I avoid you.
You steal whatever bight light once shone through me.
You eat people like me for breakfast.
Shame on you and shame on me for trusting you...
I will never be hurt again, my mind has totally opened.
Oh she soars above the twilight
spreads her wings towards the lantern,
instinct hones towards Blighty’s bight
mind confused thinking of Skipton.
Gone the lure of tropical nights
diamond scattered heaven above,
only the cliffs of dolomites
to where here is her true love.
Waiting in anticipation
trauma the drama yet the fight,
together participation
oh once alighted from this flight.
Silver wings bare your robust soul
bring her back safely just for me,
here to play out fate’s active role
at the gate of our minds I'll be!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
Six minutes to six. I’m ready for tea,
The forecast for shipping – what is in store ?
My chair is a vessel far out on the sea,
Rain, moderate or good, occasion’ly poor.
There’s warning of gales in areas all,
The Low in the Faeroes promises more,
South-easterly, storm force, tending to squall,
Rain, moderate or good, occasion’ly poor.
Home by the fireside no sailor am I,
But share in the ritual, listen in awe,
Watch the storm brewing and see the clouds fly,
Rain, moderate or good, occasion’ly poor.
Fisher, Tyne, Dogger and Forth, German Bight,
Deepening depression and gales by the score
In Plymouth and Portland, Dover and Wight,
Rain, moderate or good, occasion’ly poor.
Not easy to concentrate, riding the swell –
Turn up the volume against the wind’s roar,
The man from the ‘Beeb’ has conjured up hell !
Rain, moderate or good, occasion’ly poor.
Packed a picnic for the middle of the night,
sandwiches,chocolet stawberrys , liqueur taste just right,
Smoke a lil sumthin to make us feel so light,
My baby sister here, we can never feel so tight,
One candle burning flickering just right,
Here with our loves, the moon shines so bight,
We walk through the trails, to stretch our legs and feel the air,
we get so spooked we run back feeling fear,
We laugh out loud to clear the air,
Enjoy this time from here to there,
Cinco de mayo is outa sight,
We love each other all so right.
(All right you scallywags of questionable seaworthiness, we begin with an up-tempo step-liveliness.)
Send him aloft, high into the crow's nest,
He'll keep watch with his keen young sight.
Let me out, the wind is a-freshenin',
Roll me up in the middle of the night.
Over to the hatch and have a check within the hold, lad,
So we know that down below, the ship is nice and tight.
Roll into the galley, and fetch the cook potatoes,
But throw 'em in the water if they've got the bleedin' blight.
Roll me out into the wet heart o' the glossy sea,
Hand me down a whoppin' tankard o' rum,
Tomorrow, on the hunt we'll be,
The Captain knows where that foreign vessel's from.
Roll me into our sheltered island hideaway,
We can sleep a while before dawn's early fight.
Give us one drink but we're gonna cut it off right there,
Gotta wake up in the mornin,' gotta wake up feelin' right.
Roll me out, now we're after a prize, boys,
Watch out for the shallows in the middle of the bight,
Roll me away, don't let them hit us broadside,
They'll soon surrender to our mighty pirate fright.
(Okay, me hearties, slow it down a shark's whisker...)
Now we're all as happy as the humpback whale,
We'll treat the prisoners fairly, or it's impolite,
The sun slips below the rail, the briny dark will then prevail,
The crew's asleep, full fathoms deep, of moonlight take a bite.
Roll me easy, there's peace upon the ocean,
The softest wind, and stars a-burnin' bright,
Drift through the water with that slow rockin' motion,
When we make it back to shore, our tales they will write.
(Avast ye now, slow it on down until yer barely makin' a wake...)
Roll me quiet when I think about my lost girl,
Nothin's bigger then than me a-wonderin' why,
Roll me back because I can't forget the dead boy,
And turn your head away, before I start to cry.
As morning dawns upon the bight,
And illuminates the sea,
Awake, awake to dawns first light.
A haze upon the head alight,
Clouding out all memory,
As light of day overcame the night.
Impossible it is to write
All that the mind did see,
When you awake to dawns first light.
The vaguest sense that all was right
In those last moments of lethargy,
As light of day overcame the night.
When all seemed lost in evil plight,
Or drowned in heavenly ecstasy,
As you awake to dawns first light.
The pieces of the puzzle briefly unite,
Then are scattered off spontaneously,
As light of day overcomes the night.
Awake, awake to dawns first light.
He helped himself up to the wind's foremost blow
On a hillock where the moon searched his impecunious pockets,
Waking a flood in his eyes like swelled teats.
He opened wide to receive the Lady, this Endymion cheats,
No worm-wood virus but sweet philtre phials.
Finishing, he is a lover...
He sought the bosom of Erebus in her wildest glow.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
A scavenger cat clawing a bushman's billy-can
Some hard laid by in his work, purred with surveillance
In disgust over him turning tins over in the bin.
Together he cast the lid by to biltong and raisin:
The cat devours, he abandons the prandial dance.
Pausing, he is a server...
He ate them all like yams those starved seamen.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
Over the mellowy orchard, for a while he blotted,
Down the glen he skied on the mossy rock
And rubbed clean in the steamy fume of the fall.
Clambering on the paddock, the love-grass over him gall
His rag-patches, bee-combed, mock.
Swearing, he is a dreamer...
He tore tearfully through the palliasse of touch-me-not.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
Now upon the road of life, he chanced
And espied himself the mutest spectre dust,
Cruising his hour in the propelled sleep of night.
He saw himself waft from this mount to that bight
And saw it was not wont or just.
Laughing, he is a god...
But this infidel purpose of man be countenanced.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
(c) T. Wignesan - 1948 in Tracks of a Tramp. Singapore-Kuala Lumpur: Rayirath Publications, 1961.
Stifled in this spin of bight
Tongue undone in sudden fright
cannot scream claws holding tight
To twist and stomp with all my might
What is this sorry bloody sight?
So slippery slime that yet can bite
If one could stretch to such a height
to burst though stone and see the light
It's midnight moonless clouded night
an empty graveyard sees my plight
And shudders for this can't be right
Zombie Pattoo Toem
There are people who sleep in hedgerows.
Funky as a fluffy guinea pig.
Others live in cars.
Cool Yankee dream,
car groovers!
Oh beautiful Greece you make my heart soar eternally.
Spinning top careers wildly.
My time for mardy little girls,
with their prissy lil noses stuck in the air,
is measured in nano seconds.
I'll ride their curvy white back cowboy style on a circus stage.
Hey squid brain,
go and hide in my ammonite shell,
clam it up and shut the front door.
Horse fly from hell with a devil stinger in the nose.
You bight my tats.
I lose colour.
Twit, coloured purple!
Interesting flying machine from the gates of hell.
Joanna Davis
How much are you… willing to give?
Lay down your life so they may live.
In this cold world when passions flame
burns so bight beneath your name.
I still believe in what your said…
that time will come in days ahead
when love and hope will rule the day
Hate is forced to run away.
I look for your face, you hold my hand
Give me the grace to understand
Tell me now, what I should do?
Strength of will to see it through
Justice cowers, forced to hide
Too afraid to step outside
Could you stand firm of foot and say
I'll not let fear get in my way?
When a cold white world freezes the truth
Stillborn’s the child and stunts the youth?
Justice is blind, for if she saw,
She’d cry her eyes till they were raw.
I know you not; you know me less
With broken bone do I confess
Sightless eyes feel the pain,
of ruptured heats and punctured vain.
Sole less; heatless, skeletal, carcass.
Statue standing, arms erect
Belches out the crown’s reject.
Justice tight shuts her sight from view
With all that blood...well wouldn’t you?
Rubber lover, Zipperella,
is not a brother or a fella.
He has false **** and kitten heels,
not a chest and ankles made of steel
His spiky rubber bag is old,
cleverly patched with a Marigold.
It’s been so long since he wore cotton,
and only zips, never a button
Zippy is a Tube commuter,
six foot tall in his Transmuters.
Lots of people stop and stare,
even more when he had pink hair.
Being a girl was such hard work,
every day another jerk!
Better to dye it back to brown,
play his fetish lifestyle down.
A little less attention is better,
when all he wants is bread n butter
Down to his local corner shop,
in skin tight leggings and a belly top.
He could blend if he wore a sweater,
or maybe brown corduroys would be better.
That’s what a woman would ask,
it had happened in ZIppy's past.
He’d had a wife who he'd loved dearly,
but she couldn't understand him...clearly.
Take off that dress, put on some trousers!
What about mother, think of the neighbors!
It went on like that for years,
lots of heartache, floods of tears.
Even though she was his lover,
he felt like they didn't know each other.
Then on a bight and sunny morning,
came the last, the ultimate warning,
‘Zippy, I want you as a man;
you’re turning me into a lesbian!’
He was forced to wisely choose,
the rubber-wear would surly loose.
He had made his vowels for life,
how could he just leave his (darling) wife?
The only decent thing to do,
was to be loyal, to be true.
But then depression set right in,
when all his beloved rubber was thrown in the bin!
Time stood still for a couple of years,
lots more heart ache, stress and fears.
For he missed rubber in his (now) sad life,
more than he would miss his nagging (dear) wife.
This could not go on forever,
he needed a friend not a jealous lover.
Maybe she didn't’t like his feminine side,
but Zippy loved dear Zipperella with pride.
So one sad day they said goodbye,
with no questioning or reasoning why.
It was how it was meant to be,
she was free, and so was SHE!
Alone again but not as much,
much more honest, much more in trust.
For Zipperella loves all things feminine,
now the woman he holds dearest lives within…him.
(Author Notes
fella: man
Marigold: washing up gloves
Tube: london underground
Transmuters: a brand of boots with frankenstein style heels with big studs)
In the world, many a fool's theory
Listening to them, I look weary
Replying them, I feel dreary
With silence, I make merry
Their eyes they close at dawn and doubt
In the morning, they are out and doubt
We doubt HIS existence! They shout
Sadly, little do they know about
For each day we see HIS wisdom and might
Their brains? Sadly fastened with 'a bight'
Thinking right? Apparently a lost insight
Retrieving? Out! They tell the light
Like dogs their gods bark but not can bite
Like a rooster they fly but not a kite
See the stars and the moonlight
See the rays of the sunlight
The sweet songs of the canary we enjoy
In our daily lives, the water we employ
For our breath, the air we deploy
Let the wise shout for joy
the hopes and dreams are very shallow
belive in yourself and they just might come
true life is like a rocket it has its up's and downs
but in the end you get the life you wanted or
you don't
this is stupid this is dum this is what makes my heart
go round and round this is
what makes me turn around again and again
the life i have is doing all of that and more
when a rocket goes up it away comes back down
at some point that is what life is like you go
up but you end up bouncing right back to the life
you started the pain that you gain you
waste in sorrow the love that you had is broken into two
you feel like life sucks but really it's
a gift you stand strong through the good and bad times
your heart never stops just you
the bucket filled with water is all the tears
that you have cried throughout the years and
the tears never stop when life is a pain
you can gain control of the pain that you need to help gain
your strength back
in the rain there grows a pain that life was made
the water on your face makes the tears that you cry
when you cry it hard to dry the tears away
when you are standing in the rain
in the rain there is a drain that can make the pain go away
all the fears become your tears
you wasted the day by the bay
you wish a pond a fish
it's dry but you cry
you take a walk to the park in the dark
you talk as you walk scream in your dreams
you wink when you think
you sleep on a sheep
try but you cry the night becomes bight
the tears that you have cried become dry
your head begins to ack you are on the bottom of a hole
can't stand the pain so you stand in the rain
you talk instead of walking away
your fears give you the tears that you cry
theres a dart in your heart
you can't stand the dart that is hurting your heart
in life there are so many things that seem so unfair that you just want to scream
some things you just want to curl up in a ball and fall to the floor and never get back up ever
again
so many things are cruel that you just want cry or even die
life isn't over till it's over
god will determine that for you
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