Best Crackled Poems
PROLOGUE
The Flame, aflicker, licks and flays,
illuming evening’s negligees
With braided curls she swirls and sways,
and flits and floats in light ballets
APOLOGUE
A Flame, to conquer creeping fog,
flew dancing towards a random log
Her flight perplexed a leery frog
beside a silent somber bog
The Flame, a ripple, all alone
alit on leaves where birds had flown
The aching twigs began to moan
A rising breeze began to groan
The Flame arrayed an ancient oak
with torrid tongues and veils of smoke
A beaver bailed, the dam had broke
The leery frog soon ceased to croak
The Flame uncoiled and lashed midair,
consuming crowns with utmost care
A crazed coyote fled her lair,
left in the lurch bewildered bear
The Flame, unfurled, went wild and grew,
enkindled cats and caribou
Remaining... not a residue,
as reeking vapors bade adieu
The Flame revealed her strength unshackled
Flora, fauna crisped and crackled
Fire Witches clucked and cackled
One more forest stripped, then hackled
EPILOGUE
The arsonists were well aware
the Flame would travel everywhere
The weirs are gone, the land is bare,
and soon you’ll find a city there
Blue –
for your arm wrapped around
my clavicle. I thought
I would loose my breath.
Red –
for the cusp of our hip bones
struggling to pull the drunken color
from our orange cheeks.
and our sweat, our sweat, our sweat
evaporating
in the drenched summer air.
Our pants futile afterthoughts
Left crumpled on the floor
It is here I asked for your respect
And you filled me with it.
Orange –
for the musk smell of our blanket den. I would watch the way dawn light
speckled your shoulders, pale, white-blue
Iridium.
I would trace the ink
of your skin, fingertip hovering a half inch
from your bone.
Green –
for how my name would hesitate
on your breath in brief puffs
like dandelion seeds blown from
My wistful lips when I was
eleven
waiting for them to bring back my wish.
Black –
for my sleeveless dress, as we strolled from
your father’s funeral.
It was the only time I watched you cry.
There were little holes in the cement sidewalk.
They filled with rain, oil
And your tears.
I watched your face change through
their watery colored reflections.
Pink –
for the way your skin repels from my
Touch, quivers as though my finger-
print were a red hot poker.
You haven’t allowed me to touch you
In a year.
Purple –
for the color of her font, as she responds to you. It is an eager
Color. She responds with all the passion of an Eskimo kiss.
You left her waitng..always.
I have been special to you,
she replies to your
overtures.
Her letters
Who blush
like a maid
Who’s felt the hot moist
whisper of something naughty
tickle against her ear lobe.
White –
for the way your eyes punch accusations
sharper then your razor tongue.
They spit
blue crackled lightening,
like an angry alley cat.
My words cannot reach you here.
You will leave.
We will divide our booty
Words that once held my name like a piece
Of carefully folded origami
now hiss cold
devoid like the plaster of our empty room.
Grey-
for the morning
now knocking on my window.
I am livid in my withdrawal, tossing and turning
I can find no comfort
in
the tangle of these vacant sheets.
There he sat among the ashes, thinking he was, oh, so good,
Just a tiny glowing ember that was once a piece of wood,
And he thought that he was better than the embers there that day,
But, alas, he didn't know that soon his pride would turn him gray.
There were many other embers that were crowding out his space,
They were vying for attention and were trying to keep the pace,
He believed they were a nuisance and he felt they were a pain,
And he knew that they were jealous, and it rubbed against his grain.
"I'm an ember in the ashes and I'm burning hot inside,
I've a reason to be boastful and to feel such awesome pride,
For the others here beside me are just living off my heat,
I'm the one who is important; in myself I am complete."
So he sparkled and he crackled and he told them all to move,
For he thought he didn't need them and he had a thing to prove,
So they rolled into the centre and they left him on the side,
And his glowing heart got bigger and it filled him up with pride.
Very soon he seemed to notice such a change inside of him,
For his glowing heart grew weaker and his light was getting dim,
But the others who had left him were still glowing bright and strong,
What had happened to this ember; could it be that he was wrong?
"I'm an ember in the ashes, but I'm feeling very weak,
I once thought I had a future, but it's looking rather bleak,
And the ones who I rejected are still glowing hot and bright,
Now I think I was mistaken and that they were truly right."
Now the tiny little ember, all alone and getting cold,
Sits among the lowly ashes and is feeling not so bold,
And the pride that once he harboured, that would make him spark and flash,
Has betrayed him in this moment and has turned him into ash.
--submitted to Be Didactic poetry contest - May 07, 2017
On a day bathed in so many shades of misty grey
There upon those rugged cliffs above the Fundy Bay
Heart pounding like the thunder in those crashing waves
Trembling lips dripping with heart felt words I could not say
So shy, I was a teenage girl so much in love
My soul on fire like that blazing stormy sky above
Where lighting crackled and sizzled in a burning flame
As his yearning eyes searched mine there in that wind swept rain
Taking cover in that shack with broken window panes
Where tattered pieces of old lace curtains still remained
Peels of nervous laughter silenced in that broken frame
As the storm outside raged against us all in vain
When with tears of stormy weather still running down his face
His lips found mine there in that that old abandoned place
A moment so electrifying it seared my soul
With a memory that haunts me now that I am old
When stormy weather lets me see him as he was that day
There on those lofty cliffs above the Fundy Bay
My heart pounding like the thunder in those crashing waves
As I drift in the beauty of those shades of misty grey
The fire crackled and spat out embers
that gleamed brightly in the hearth.
Yet unattended they soon died away
to become dull grey ash particles.
Just like a fire need laying and tending
so too does love to help it strongly flourish.
Careful layering of dry tinder and
a few wisps of newspaper tightly curled.
Twigs and small branches added next
then a flame is held out until it ignites.
Take care to nourish your love
and show them sweet tenderness.
Gentle fanning growing more vigorous
as all starts to catch with a happy roar.
Feed it well and soak up its heat
and watch as shadows flicker on walls.
Bank it up well so it slowly smoulders
throughout the night. Fan the embers
and watch the flames slowly revive
just like love does when cared for.
Bask together in its glow
as it consumes and flourishes.
Filling you with love eternal
as you grow old together.
I fondle the brush strokes of a brown afternoon,
inviting me along, to the land of down under.
I will take a small journey, under gunmetal skies,
through country as rough as the crackled veneer.
On the trail of the outback, while the afternoon sighs,
there are three saddled horses, two men, and their packs.
Roustabouts are riding, with the sun at their backs.
A pall of white petals drift over their heads,
from a rift in the cottonwoods, that frame the river’s bed.
I will drink in illusion, as the horses refresh,
as they prance through deep waters,
on that calm, summer's day.
I am thirsty, and eager, to reach out and touch,
and to ride in the outback, beneath silver skies,
on the one extra horse, that lingers nearby...
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Based on the Painting "A Lil' Bit of Aus..."
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Ethereal rays of light
dilute darkness into grey.
Ebony fades with the night;
only shadows; defy day.
A spiderweb casts a hue
of iridescent flashes.
And the morning mist drips dew;
in intermittent splashes.
Dawn splits reality's realm
into scenes rivaling dreams.
As songbirds sing in the elm,
while sunbeams gild golden streams.
Dragonflies and bumblebees
flex crackled cellophane wings.
And the sun warms every breeze,
smug with the heat that it brings.
Slivers of light pierce my eye;
filtered through a rusty screen.
And rustling leaves flutter high,
in a canopy of green.
Spring arrived with life anew,
Fledglings hatched - then away they flew,
Bees gathered nectar from flowers of blue,
Morning grass glistened with sparkling dew!
Summer brought in the warmth of the sun,
Toasted marshmallows - went for a run,
Melted a s'more - put a ‘dog in a bun,
Memories were made - just having fun!
Autumn burst forth in magnificent show,
Dressed up the trees with a bright crimson glow,
'Til breezes thieved and north winds did blow,
Lacing leaf tapestries 'neath branches below!
Winter invaded with chilling plight,
Clouds coveted stars and obscured the moon’s light,
Thunder crackled - lightning danced at night,
As tranquility fell in a blanket of white-
Time moves on forward fast,
Like rapids hurtling unheedingly headlong
Towards a sheer deep cascade,
And plummet down below in a mighty roar
To flow relentlessly towards the infinite sea
Drifting straight into eternal oblivion.
Yet time can ne'er erase all memories,
And special ones will always linger
In the obscure corridors of my mind.
Hence I can never forget my dear,
The night that we first met.
Were not that night the stars conspiring
To throw a luminous light on our love?
Did not the twinkling stars shoot out their ways
In the clear expanse of nightly sky?
There under a lonely carob tree,
Where dry old leaves crackled
Under our woollen spreads,
You smiled graciously at me
And suddenly I knew
How eager was I for a love so true.
We were like two of those gems above,
Shooting their way across the skies.
And fate decreed that those two stars should meet
In an astral collision and fuse into a lasting blast.
Light sparkled above sublimely
An ethereal fireworks display,
That lasted for one long memorable moment,
But the light in our love will last
Until the end of our days.
The Spruce trees formed a double sentinel
Along a path that seem to lead to nowhere.
The sky was dark with heavy clouds
As the two lovers trudged along the path,
Towards their meagre and poor abode.
Occasionally they would stop and kiss,
As if they could enkindle some kind of warmth.
Yet the blizzard had no pity on them.
They tried to hurry before rain began,
Still an occasional drop would fall
Wetting their threadbare clothes.
Soon they arrived and just in time
As rain began to pour and mingle with the snow.
Inside was frigid and quickly they changed
Into warmer clothes. The man lit up the last few logs
Whilst she searched for some bread and cheese.
How dejected they felt as the fire crackled
Hoping they’ll get the warmth they needed.
Outside the blizzard roared and still they felt cold.
The sound of wolves were heard and fear Increased.
They tried to close the windows and doors.
Alas they ignored the fireplace as warmth was no more.
The next day they were found huddled on the sofa.
They needed warmth no more.
The campfire crackled
As old friends tackled
The problems of the day
The problems weren’t solved
But everyone involved
Felt they had melted away
Glimpses of you…
An image so mesmerizing, I bask in shame to rely on these bedazzled eyes
So full of wisdom and heart, your globes keep me glazed
Grazed on the swift-shotted bullet of your gaze
Do not let him see how he drives me mad
Get your head out of space, decapitate this case
This spell of ever-turning lust crumbles me to dust
For this love both devastates and fulfills me
Makes a monster out of me—strong-wills me!
I ache—god, how I ache
As I reach for a touch of your glorious existence
Darting through the crackled splinters of resistance
It is a throbbing pain pulsing in my brain
Wetting the corners of philosophic peaks
To discover your roots are for another
I drive down underneath
Take a shot of your toughest glass
And turn your head away from the lure
Push it aside that his intentions are pure
Find a path towards the sycamore
Focus on the tree’s gallant twists
In life never succumbing to the neurotic mists
She grows toward the sun like she needs no one!
Worrying not of the bullets—for she is the gun
Stand tall amongst the majority’s dream of original
Your heights will keep you satisfied
For in lust we only die
The sun’s strong rays provide the hope for better days
Yet still at times the branches twist and rest upon his gaze
In the moldering courtyard I linger awhile
Among ancient arches, in the old Spanish style
Revealed are sad stories...these etched stones hide
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
The marble fountain would murmur here
Above the doorway, vines withered and bare
Aloft from the tower, are the four watchful eyes
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
Three vestige bells hang overhead
Their voices silent, songs are long dead
Only the pigeons, with cooing cries
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
From the ruined walls so simply laid
Shadows of saints...moss covered jade
The weeping old willow, leaves crackled and dry
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky
Far from today, I will pass on through
This gate, this place brings peace anew
I drink with my ears and my glistened eyes
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky
The flowers still bloom and the overgrowth tells
The ancient tolling, of the song of the bells
When the rest of the world is passing by
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
The longing to know, is within my heart
Yet a peace I will find, when I finally depart
Tho' silent they have been, over graves that lie
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
Feeble, a word not often used
in this hi-def, mega bite world,
where almost anything can be done
with the tap of a fingertip,
the aged still feel feeble.
This crackled feeling runs along the rims
of brittle nails
and gray-white strands of hair.
The once svelte figures of maid or man,
now chose more often to crunch and snap,
as ligaments roll unpleasantly over joint heads.
The witty repartee of youth is replaced by a dazed look.
Yes, at this moment,
après gym and post nap
and pre chair massage a wobbling frailness
surrounds me in a weak chicken broth
of feebleness.
fingerless mits
cover bloodless palms –
weak spring sun
emotion: feeble
poet: Debbie Guzzi
Contest: How Do I Feel Today
Banished into the hall for the art of magic
Cracked and crackled he practices with despair
As loneliness consumed and his life purged in doubt
This magician whose life was cut to pieces
Feeling crushed and defeated, practices his art.
This banished magician soul once thrived
In the realm of worldly magic
Now, banished and tarnished to the core
the loneliness ever consumed his distraught mind
His thoughts became agonized by pain and sorrow
His determination to succeed consumed his soul
The blistered broken heart that once was scattered
Now became the breath smoldered with hate
Imprisonment brought determination and strength
His magical spells became stronger
His hands and rod became a lethal weapon
He flung balls of fire wanting to burn the souls,
that sent him to this eternal dungeon
His magic became powerful making him feel invincible
No one would dare challenge his power
He felt he was invincible to the world
But, he was banished for a reason and that
reason would have to come to the surface.
As he met with the magical magicians he learned
that he had to learn to channel the magic
channel the power within himself for the power of good
and evil rested in his very own hands.
A lesson that needed to be learned if he was to
survive in the magical world..