Best Crag Poems
American Indian, Nightshades, Moonshadows And Howling Wolf
Thirsty for red moon, its sacred beams and eternal pull
howling-out to speak to this dark and blind world, without fear;
Your echoes enter, soulful bones of insightful red man
birthing growing urges to return and run truly free,
falling upon ancient trails, foraging for lean red meat
race with red-heart's deepest desires into widest abyss,
embrace our mother earth, unified into one body.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Standing proud, atop very high and lonesome mountain crag
winds caressing one of Nature's most beautiful creatures;
Notes calling loud, that give night's resplendent moon pregnant pause
in that silent and golden moment, where man so trembles,
for it is then knowledge comes, therein sings of true freedom
having no need for dreams of blind men or dark worldly lusts,
speaking to pack below, mirroring its deep felt tones.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Alas! Fate and Fury- rage combine and oft delivers
soul-crushing, black-handed cuts from darkened realms far below;
Wherein has justice overcame Fate's most savage attacks
when hatred and greed both conspired to not be defeated,
in infliction of war's sorrows and deadly destruction
while parading under banner of Light and compassion,
tales of malevolent beasts, benevolently destroyed!
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
R. J. Lindley,
Feb 2nd, 1973
Poetry-- Subject Nature, Wolf, Amerian Indian And Injustice...
Old note: My mother's father was Native American. I gained
great insight into the life of Native Americans from words
he spoke to me. Since his death, I have read many books that
gave even more historical knowledge on the subject. Finding
the ones that did not deliberately cover up the savage acts
carried out by "whites" against Native Americans.
Stepping into the dance
Gently taking your hand in mine
Entering the realm of infinite possibilities
Where passion and desire breathe as one
An eternal hug
Enveloping our laughter and tears
Swaying slowly
Your breath tickling my ear
We are guided by our mirrored hearts
Open to the ancient whispers within
Arms open wide in vulnerable flight
Encountering lavender vibrations
Nuances ~ miraculous moments
Distant drumming arrives
From within dense fragrant pines
Carried on silver musical notes
Pale turquoise sky
Brushes against our cheeks
We fill our lungs with moist cool air
Breathing in gratitude
Glorious heights surround us
Crag and gleam of crystal
Midnight ebony obsidian shafts
Gulls cry above
The smell of salty waves beckoning us below
I ride the foam in your welcome embrace
Glistening waves our chauffeur
Diving deeper
Into ocean’s chambers of kaleidoscope blue
Sunrays guide us
Coral’s fingers delight
Wearing mandarin, cranberry and apple green
We laugh as bubbles escape our smiles
Playfully gliding upwards
Our friends arrive
Regal parrot fish
Mosaic rainbow scales shimmering
Calling out to us
A sacred union gathering
Inclusive of all
Silent language is shared
Spellbound destinies of
Beauty and grace
Envelop us
I meander through verdant valley
where meadows collide in windswept jade,
hillsides bathe in summer sunshine
and oceans of clouds, commit to shade.
Moorland sheep laze in woolly clusters
creating footpaths upon the hill,
busy hedgerow a rural city
scar of an era, is town head mill.
Vibrant coppice alive with creatures
leafy towers caress morning mist,
sunlight shines on distant window
across the valley, a sapphire twist.
Crag and beacon rise majestic
standing stone a monument to thrall,
sculptured by marauding seasons
an ancient culture’s, rocky stall.
Yet to chance upon misty patterns
softly sketched upon the hill,
I will savour these happy moments
awakening to, a distant trill.
Wharfedale, Yorkshire England
© Harry J Horsman 2001
The moor side broadcast,perpetually
amid airwaves of delirium,
aria that reverberates, from crag to scar
beacon to abbey century to century,
Everyday truth in simplicity
to ignite the human race!
© Harry J Horsman 1998
He stands on the slippery crag of Simon’s Seat
has done since time became tradition
from the Lupus a call to the Luna moon
howling at the illuminant of the night.
His descendants thrash the poignant air
a reminder of a fear once gone, forgotten
yet, today there are many still hold them fair
but it is the moon that drives the begotten.
© Harry J Horsman 2018
I stood, as if buoyed up, atop a crag,
unchanged (yet somehow changed), not knowing why
my mountain-climbing friends could so much lag,
for I was where the pinnacle met sky,
but they were gone completely from my view,
and in the recess, then it dawned on me
my situation strangely was askew!
My vision was an eagle's. I could see
the roads along the shore where we had docked
before we'd started up each wrinkled slope.
Then further on, my mates, all sobbing, gawked
at someone motionless who lay with rope
in lifeless clutch. I felt no wrath, but peace
engulf me; I embraced my soul's release.
9/26/2014
An N/A poem for Screwed X Poetry Contest of Rob Carmack
Unblouse your breast
Where to nuzzle and warm
Areola to moisten and mouth
Urgency need, I scarce was born
Unclothe me in all unrighteousness
Sing for me no lullabye
Fetus reflection in alabaster eyes
Yours will forgive me, so softly they plead
The call in my eyes , so loving beguiled
Answers my whisper
Inaudibly you whimper
Reaching for the hearth of your home
Furthermost far, the call of the grave
But if I should die, please bury me here
We slipped passed the guards, their caution neglect
Our passion en-garde, the phallus erect
Discover a pebble in fissurely crag
Rolling in wonders and nacred in pearl
Both of us crying exhortations of love
Loving ungainly like giraffe on the run
Speaking in gibberish, talking in tongues
Becoming immortal banging the drum
Surpassing the portal the bloodhounds unleash
I Mount Vesuvius, youre so within reach
Im falling for you in tubular bells
Demolition crawls
Pots and pans all over the place
Flaming torpedos pock-mark the Earth
Harpooning the squid in ink fibrillation
Ecclectic joy in sense celebration
Two souls arriving from deep within
In baptismal breath I was born once again
Little blades of grass touching my naked feet
Oh, the soft pleasant touch, the trodden path
I am treading again; though this is my first
Venture, my maiden hike towards the peak
The great heights of the neighbouring mountains!
Have you ever lost yourself in the benumbing wilderness?
Have you ever heard the silent call of the Titans, metamorphosed
Into rocks? Little nameless flowers swaying their heads
In an enchanted dance; the chill in the air
Gently touching my mortal body, making a grand statement
“If the heaven exists anywhere, it’s here, it’s absolutely here”
The eternal path leads you from crag to crag, from bends to bends
Like a child of nature I play hide and seek with the impish fountains
And waterfalls, oh how majestically they cascade down
On the wings of wild butterflies,
Swiftly hiding
Into impregnable gorges
The hairpin bends
Beckons
Oh, the wider stretch again
Looming, there is before, the endless and bottomless
Gulf of the sky, kissed benevolently by the sunny morning
High and hoary oaks and pines
Standing on both sides like insomniac sentries
The intolerable ache, nearly paralysed feet
One
Step
Forward, another
One
Inflated lungs
Is it the end of the road?
Oh, god, at last, yeah, at last
I am on top
I am looking beneath towards the inviting clouds
My eagle soul outstretches its wings
The sky kisses my forehead like my mother
17.09.2014
Contest: Pinnacle
The thunder reached them well before
it's shadow flashed along the shore
as whirlwinds from the steady beat
knocked fleeing hordes from off their feet.
Thousands sprinted to the surf
except a few who had the nerve
and put up spirited defence
and fell in flares of heat intense.
Fast and low, wings whipped the waves
glistening scales of charcoal, Jade.
Skimming clifftops, banking right,
climbing until out of sight,
then corkscrew dive in view it hove
and settled in a quiet cove.
On rocky crag where beast had fetched
it gazed down on her wings outstretched,
mother of pearl breast warmed by sun
she looked up at the one who'd come.
Crimson eyes met gaze of blue,
"Vanilla's sold out- will chocolate do?"
For contest- 'Dragons', sponsored by Silent One.
October 19th 2015
Many are the miles you snake along the hillsides, through the valleys,
conforming to the highways, partitioning pasture from pasture
neighbour from neighbour, friend from foe, son from father.
a face unperturbed…
one inhaling scenic grace
spring chattering birth
Sanctuary to winter flock shelter for the beast,
many characteristics embraced within your tenacity,
while countless shapes formulate your strength,
crag face monument a testament to this place, stone the essence.
breaking dawn’s sunrise …
golden threads breaking the mist
surfing nether clouds
Many years you’ve stood against sweeping rain, hoarfrost nights,
the heat of summer, the inane rambler that mounts your very strength
rests wearily for a while, never a thought for whom created
you, from out of the very ground you now preside over.
there are no concepts…
only seasons to embrace
and generations
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Encased in earthen form, I rise,
held chest-tight with fear my eyes belie.
Tumbled stone and ancient steps so steep,
lead to a mound and valley deep
where I let loose my song to sky.
The song resounds from crag to peak
a lonely echo blue on green.
The soulful song from quartz careens
and shames the hillside cold cheek
returning brazen, seldom meek.
For once sent forth, it must return,
its formless flight, a brief sojourn,
A repetition not unique,
a hollow copy which respeaks
of lovers lost and trust unearned.
Boomerrang Contest
Take these shackles and give ‘em to the bear, tell her I’ve gone home
Take these shackles and throw ‘em to the wind, I’ll live like that no more
Gonna find me the weapon that can kill off Mutley, end his child like rage
Gonna find me a whet stone, sharpening my sword, gonna end his blinkered ways
I killed off Mutley
In this war inside I wage
I killed off Mutley
And it means the end of days
Come a long way from our second city, I’m a long way from home
Come a long way from our second city and I’ll go there no more
Gonna find me a crag deep in the mountains, got to mend that old dog’s ways
Gonna find a lost city deep in the desert, make sure the flee pit pays
I killed off Mutley
In the war inside I wage
I killed off Mutley
And it means the end of days
Take this message for me, carry it home, tell ‘em I am no more
Take this message for me, carry it home, tell ‘em the evils gone
I found my mountain, out in the world, it wouldn’t forgive my ways
As I soar down the valley, out of this world, I know this old dog paid
I killed off Mutley
In the war inside I wage
I killed off Mutley
And it means the end of days
a sliver of spring
the sun peeps over the crag...
shadows melt away
© Harry J Horsman 2018
End Game
Daylight, collected by ancient violins
Breaks a cadaverous rhythm
From dreams of a crashing heart
And all encumbered the features of its crag
Rages pitiful
It is a sigh, which leaves the unsleeping cushion
To bury knuckles in tired eyes
Daylight
With the auspices of its vendetta hanging cryptic
In riddled made promises
By the sun catches
Nothing
The mirror in its jaundice of coffee, continues
And stares melancholy from its own reflection
Hangs bloodless
Daylight
In its search for continuum
And its succession to hope
Clings remorseless
To love
In a steadfast silence
Holds its will to its own faith in strength
And so anchored on peace, the day begins in patience
And cast as grain to the eternal dusts
The ancient chord of violins
With sorrows bow draws upon the strings
Of my heart
Daylight
And with its first thought; turned on love
Pleasure Seekers.
.
One delightful star-studded evening
I took a blissful took a exploration
Over peeked topped hill
And crag and pleasant sweeping vale
As the sun got warmer and warmer
On my adventure I had entailed
.
Gentle soft rain awakened the shifting landscape
As the bird of paradise responded
Whispering her joy and pleasure
With varied mounting uttered tones
And I excitingly discovered hidden treasures
Intoxicated by her scented glistening rose
.
She raised her ivory pillars
And spread her pretty butterfly wings
Beckoning me with urgency
To sip from her sweet tasty dew filled cup
I lingered upon her womanly offering
As my delight and her pleasure increased
And the stinging bee had now woke up
.
We sailed together upon waves of exquisite sensations
As the waves gathered momentum
And we weaved our surrendering bodies
With passion rapture and sharing
Throughout the magical star studded night
Creating so much beauty
Bonding hearts and souls with tender care
.
After the lavish feast was over
And our hunger now satisfied
We held each other in our folded wings tight
As the warm embers aglow
On this our blessed wedding night.
.
Peter Dome©2021.