Best Crisscross Poems
I stand here with every step of my life etched in crisscross lines beneath these
well worn feet.
Well worn feet that have carried me for seven decades and three years more
through pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow, on a path of adversity that couldn't conquer me.
I stand here today...a tenacious and contented soul with my mission nearly complete... close to the end of the road where earth and heaven meet.
Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
Twigs
Flowers bloom
And flowers wilt.
Flowers blush
And flowers fade.
The eternity is only in me-
The twig that bears the flowers.
Sparrows are born
And sparrows die.
Sparrows fly
And brighten the sky.
That who nurtures sparrows is me-
A cozy make of a twig upon a twig.
The sun fades
And moon is born.
The twilight blurs
And moonlight spreads.
All the soothing moonlight beams are me-
A crisscross of unfathomed twigs.
Whether in its birth
Or in its death;
In the heart
Of its heart;
The entire beauty is none but one-
A design of mysterious twigs.
Daylight fades, a city pulsates, and traffic is reflected in store windows.
Hurrying headlights come out of the darkness.
They crisscross like dueling knights. People in the crosswalk scamper
as if squirrels and streetlights leer gleaming yellow eyes, like watchful hawks.
The shrill trumpets of the charging gale force winds, rattle an awning,
and newly planted maple saplings bend and sway
in random pairs. Set in concrete planters, they hang on by tender rooted toes.
Pages of a discarded newspaper are hurled into the air,
buoyed on the steely breath of a frigid winter evening.
Several leaflets scatter into the street and down the sidewalk,
into the path of one lone pedestrian.
He slaps away the sports page, that flies into his chapped, red face.
Without hesitation, this castaway vagrant, down and out
by the rape of hard times, will accept an offered dime,
from a passing man in a Red Sox ball cap.
Head bent low, face hidden, a worn and dirty pea coat
pulled tightly around his thin frame, he carries all his meager belongings
in a large paper grocery bag, wrinkled and beginning to tear.
Serving as his satchel, the brown bag, damp and worn,
still displays big bold red and black letters
advertising "Smart and Final Grocery"--"Located in Three Convenient Locations".
A city bus roars by, splashing through three days of rain,
and a siren and a blaring horn is heard from the next block.
The dark silhouetted outcast, stops for a moment,
peers into a sidewalk trash receptacle, then continues slowly down the sidewalk.
A taxi pulls up along the curb behind him, and the attractive couple,
dressed in evening wear, emerge, pay for their taxi, and arm in arm,
enter Mario's Italian Restaurant, the brick bistro
that sits on the corner of Broadway and 1st.
It begins to rain again, and across the street people open umbrellas
and like the afore mentioned squirrels, they scurry home to supper.
The lone man walks in the rain, his pace doesn't quicken, his voice never spoken,
a spirit broken, ............ his sack held together by circumstance.
A passerby takes a brief glance...just a quick, chanced moment,
to take notice of "Smart and Final's" last stance.
I always feel like a prisoner in the winter, banished from the outside by the jealous wind. As I get older, I continue to make peace with the cold, but I follow the spring. It is a different door, one covered with vines and stars, and to it I am drawn, as if to a beautiful girl.. no other days compare to her.
The flash of a disposable camera, clicked with young fingers, pink-polished nails. A yellow sun dress patterned with orange daisies. The basket on the bike is filled with stuff for lunch, sodas and sandwiches and things. Laughter resounds over the tops of trees as we careen, the children of May, across the sun-spotted road.
The compass points north
You know, this is Saturday
That means we go east
You yell to me that I run too fast, but all I hear is my heartbeat in my ears. I look back, you run faster. The evening begins to cast a spell in our town; the colors purple and orange appear like watercolor in the sky and we both stop to watch. Vapor trails crisscross above us, they're streaks across the fading day, pieces of the memories we've made.
Heat lightning at night
She's reading a magazine
Sarah's rare green eyes
To your door we go, but only you proceed. Your father doesn't trust me yet, but I tell you that I'll try harder. Maybe, one day, he'll give me a pat on the shoulder and a smile. It does hurt, I won't deny, to listen to the screen door wheeze shut and hear your bounding footsteps on the stairs. What comforts me is that I know tomorrow brings you around again, walking through a high archway, lovely enough to steal the sun's attention from the flowers.
These suburban dreams
The pink and yellow houses
Waiting with my thoughts
-For Debbie Guzzi's "Spring Haibun" contest
Ice crystal contrails cerulean skies crisscross,
Grazing the wispy clouds of cottony linens
Like smooth white, waxy strings of dental floss
Strung out high above these heavenly denizens.
Grazing the wispy clouds of cottony linens
Are they playing war games above the peace?
Strung out high above these heavenly denizens
Are they from earthly tensions finding release?
Are they playing war games above the peace?
These high-flying aerial jockeys of daring feat
Are they from earthly tensions finding release?
They soar through the heavens without defeat.
These high-flying aerial jockeys of daring feat
Top guns rehearsing for battles they must abhor,
They soar through the heavens without defeat
Ever testing, faster, never enough, always more.
Top guns rehearsing for battles they must abhor
Keenly aware of the vital defense roles they play
Ever testing, faster, never enough, always more
Their high-flying antics are de rigueur for the day.
Keenly aware of the vital defense roles they play
Like smooth white, waxy strings of dental floss
Their high-flying antics are de rigueur for the day,
Ice crystal contrails cerulean skies crisscross.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Submitted to "Pantoum - Old or New" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written May 29, 2022
Submitted to "Flight Poetry Contest"
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
#12 on BEST NEW POEMS LIST
June 10, 2022
Submitted to "Marathon Contest Mile 3"
Sponsored by Mark Toney
She stood, staff in hand ...
Staring down at the man kneeling before her
Strands of her hair danced on the breeze like a stallion's tail
Cinnamon skin, a stunning contrast to her brilliant white riding robes
Sandals strapped in crisscross up to her knees
Toes and fingers painted to match the jewel to be given her
And a wide purple sash, marked with her family crest
A crest that many of her kin had died protecting
This ... was her moment, true
A moment she had been preparing for her entire life
Tireless hours and countless trials endured
Spent in the grooming and educational endeavors
A lifetime of the artistic, physical, and intellectual disciplines required
The extraordinary skills needed to lead a country
And she had taken it as seriously as any that had come before
It was her way ... to be the best, at everything
Now, that conviction to excellence had brought her here
And due to her father's untimely passing, much sooner than expected.
His prayer done, the priest looked up for her winking approval, then stood
Holding the simple crown in both hands, he tenderly placed it
A single wide, plain gold band, with one large Tanzanite pear, dangling
The exquisite violet-blue gem, dancing on her forehead
Shimmering like the Merelani Hills, in the bright noontime sun
The shining, resplendent symbol to all the land
Of the binding promise she thus made
To be an oasis of prosperity, benevolence, and peace for all
The fierce but compassionate ruler of the desert sands
River unto her people ...
Queen ... of the Sahara.
(The Merelani Hills are near the very small area of Tanzania where Tanzanite is found ... it has never been discovered anywhere else, and in a mining area only 7 km long and 2 km wide).
I was thinking today
That in itself
Is a very scary thought
About all the people who
Crisscross +++++++++++++
Through our lives
Some of these people
Without any doubt
Are just people we want something from
Or
People who want something from us
And once that need is gone
So are they
Then there are other people
That we know forever
But wish we had never met
And lets not forget
The ones we only met once
Wish we would know forever
But never see again
Well this isn’t about any of them
This is about
The people
We loved and lost
But never should have
Please know that the love I’m speaking of is friendship
Our friends define who we are
More than anything else
In life
My best friend and I
Haven’t spoken
In now on 15 years
In all honesty
That is my fault
It is also one of the worse mistakes
That I ever made
I was so hurt
The hurt brought anger
The anger brought action
And it all happened so fast
Soon as I did it, I felt so ashamed
I think his father could see that in my eyes
The whole family was a part of my heart
Dennis was my best friend
Judy was my girlfriend
Kristin, Jeffery & Haley were my step-kids
Dale was my younger brother
Jack & Joy were Mom & Dad
We had all known each other
Since I was knee high
I learned a valuable lesson that day
I learned that no matter how strong love is
How many years of foundation it may have
Addiction will destroy it
--- It’s the nature of the business ---
she stood,
staff in hand ...
staring down at the
man kneeling before her -
strands of her hair danced on the
breeze like a stallion's tail ...
cinnamon skin, a stunning contrast to
her brilliant white riding robes ...
sandals strapped in
crisscross up to her knees -
toes and fingers painted to match the
jewel to be given her,
and a wide purple sash marked with her family crest -
a crest that many of her kin
had died protecting.
This ... was her moment, true -
a moment she had been preparing for
her entire life ...
tireless hours and countless trials endured,
spent in the grooming and
educational endeavors -
a lifetime of the artistic, physical, and
intellectual disciplines required ...
the extraordinary skills
needed to lead a country,
and she had taken it as seriously as any that
had come before ...
it was her way, to be the best ...
at everything ...
now, that conviction to
excellence had brought her here, and due
to her father's untimely passing,
much sooner than expected.
His prayer done, the priest
looked up for her winking approval,
then stood, holding the
simple crown in both hands ...
he tenderly placed it -
a single wide, plain gold band with one large
Tanzanite pear, dangling ...
the exquisite violet-blue gem dancing
on her forehead ...
shimmering like the Merelani Hills in
the bright noontime sun -
the shining, resplendent symbol to all
the land, of the binding promise
she thus made:
to be an oasis of prosperity,
benevolence, and peace for all -
the fierce but compassionate ruler of the
desert sands ...
river unto her people ...
queen ...
of the Sahara.
WHATEVER, WHEREVER, WHENEVER!
Imagine what goes through
Our minds in one day,
Perhaps millions of thoughts
I would dare to say!
A complex computer of
Crisscross wires,
Our brain surely sometimes tires!
And if ever in doubt
About whatever,
I say, Hey Google,
She comes to my aid,
With answers galore,
She’s centrifugal.
We are so absolutely techno,
More complicated our
Lives than less so!
I touch a button and order a pizza,
A sandwich or whatever,
Had this ever been the case,
In years gone by from wherever?
We travel to work every day
And take a weekend off to relax
But remember on the way,
We didn’t pay our monthly tax!
Arrive at destination, damn
We forgot Uncle Bob’s 90th birthday
Can’t phone him till tomorrow,
Battery has died on the way!
Oh no, he will never forgive us,
To my husband I say,
As I suddenly spot a leopard
With his kill in a tree, hurry!
We forget Uncle Bob, I know you
Have you guessed where we are,
At the Kruger Park, we came to relax,
But it’s really far!
We decide to forget everything
And promise each other we will,
When my husband says,
I short paid the cashier at the till.
Well that garage knows us well,
We will pay her whenever,
Incidentally, he said that last poem
You wrote is rather clever.
SWITCH OFF we simultaneously say ,
We are on holiday,
Our brain needs a break
Even if we think we don’t,
But we both know we won’t!
On a dusky evening long time ago,
When shadows huddled at every corner,
When rain had gone and birds had roosted,
You held me close and whispered in my ear;
“In your eyes I see, the blue of the sky,
In your soul, you hold the depth of the seas,
Love swells, like tides on rise,
My life, I vow, by Jove, never to part”
Your voice, like a tremulous rivulet gurgled,
We stood staring at each other in a warm embrace.
With passion sweet, your eyes glowed.
Like a blue lagoon, they were deep and peaceful.
On your dimpled cheek, a kiss I planted,
A gesture warm with abiding love.
Crisscross lain as warp and weft,
We hoped to weave the garb of life.
Words and deeds that served as balm to the soul!
Still, they repeat, gushing a flurry of thoughts,
But alas! To a far unknown land you fled,
‘From whose bourn, no traveler returns’,
My life has moldered and mildew grown,
Where my Love! Whither have you gone?
Who bid you slink into death’s secret hide?
Why left me to languish in a world of shadows?
Seasons roll and years glide,
Youth has withered and memory fails,
Now I wander through a dim shadowy world.
I feel so trapped and lonely, as twilight grips.
Like embers flickering low, yet stocked by the breath of fire,
I hope, we shall meet one day at the Golden gate,
Where no shadows shall lurk and time shall stay eternal
And silence sparks the language, the ears want to hear.
_______ _____________ _______
When rain is gone and sky gets clear,
When night turns deeper and silence creeps,
I transverse back to that dusky eve,
To retrieve those moments, I sadly cherish!
Age three, crisscross apple sauce, hands in your lap.
Age five, scooting a few inches, to let whole class in.
Age twenty-three, fresh out of college, a brand new teacher,
Criss-cross applesauce in the circle with your kindergarteners.
Age thirty-four, sitting on chair, in crisscross circle with kids.
Age forty-four, attempt at crisscross on floor, kids snickering.
Age fifty-five, on chair again, in crisscross circle with kids.
Age sixty-eight, on floor, crisscross for thirty minutes.
Legs fall asleep, can barely stand. Would kick myself if I could.
No idea this was going to happen. Standing unsteadily,
Both feet asleep. One of the third graders comes over and hugs me.
Thanks me for coming, and I cannot walk out the door yet.
Age does matter.
Sunday evening stretches and yawns
drowsy as a tender fawn
Who frolics and plays throughout the day
then curls up midst leaves to lay
While sleep overspreads her dewy head
constellations crisscross above her head
How sweetly angels sing in her soft ears
a moonstruck smile o'er her lips appears
~ Sweet dreams, everyone! ~
Gershon Wolf, Oct. 03, 2021
Springtime unfolds mystic winsome,
Vibrant rainbow blossom to come
Idyllic redolence fragrance.
Song retold on garden pleasance.
Error-less scents so admired thrum.
Springtime unfolds mystic winsome,
Dawn lightens fanciful golden
Purples, pinks, greens, quaint and olden.
As the fields tiny blossoms hum,
Sweet and tender jewels' outcome.
Springtime unfolds mystic winsome,
Where yet forbear spider hides from.
Dandelion fluff dance across
Green grass spirit free and crisscross,
Budding in and upon beach-plum.
Springtime unfolds mystic winsome.
2/8/2024
Within my breast I carry ancient death;
Its face is pale and white as marbled clay.
Consumed with guilt, I struggle for each breath
Still sour with napalm death of yesterday.
The fractured colors formed behind my lids
Are monumental rainbows round a pit
Where hues of crimson-reds crisscross the grids
Profuse in bloody lines and squares to fit.
Profanely perfect patterned memories
Of riddled bodies huddled on the ground,
Where bloated skin slips off fatalities
As ragged maggots slither-squirm around.
The jungle flora breathes forth mystic sighs
As soldiers wander through symbology.
They see suspended phantoms' floating eyes;
A catapult to horrid memory.
No temple of communion colonnades!
No transubstantiation in the heat!
No priestly servants hidden in the glades!
No promises of paradise wrapped neat!
The snow leopard
A snow leopard is walking down snow covered streets.
In these empty streets, she walks alone, a vision to be seen.
With skyscraper buildings on either side,
All the cars are silent,
The apartments only have a few lights on,
As she walks outside in the night-time.
With every stride the snow leopard creeps along,
These empty streets with her eyes fixed upon,
Her destination; the local fountain has become an ice rink.
She needs a place where she can sit and think
And the frozen water is calling.
The scratches on the surface from skaters earlier in the eve,
Are sliced crisscross by fur-covered shoes;
Her claws dig in deep.
With perfect balance she moves along;
Tail flat, she is relaxed, no pressure is on.
No need to flee, no-one to be seen.
The snow leopard lies down to relax; her cub inside is heavy.
Before dawn has arisen, the snow leopard has awoken.
Her ears pointed skyward to listen to distant sirens.
From early risers, phone calls have been made;
The zoo keeper is on his way…
But with a flash of her silhouette, the snow leopard is gone;
She was only seen close up for a second,
Before she disappeared into the thick winter’s fog.
Never to be seen again, but the lights in the skyscrapers remember.
The snow leopard stood here, on this cold night mid-December.
From where she came, nobody ever truly knew;
Some people say she was here simply looking for food.
She had been hiding a long time in a snow cave;
Her footprints were filled by the snow and her tracks began to fade.
She never was found and never again did she return.
The snow leopard was just passing through, her image just a blur.
Like a wind through a narrow street,
A piece of ice falling through a cloud;
A memory of a snowflake that disappears as soon as it is found.
There was no sign that the snow leopard had ever been around
And there was no way to know why,
The snow leopard ever came walking through this town.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.