Best Downriver Poems
Somewhere downriver, among thrushes and the swallows,
Ducks in hidden hallows have silky, satin wings
Among the reedy shallows, swim ducks in hidden hollows
rest awhile where willows lean, and haloed twilight clings
Summer's been forsaken. Now the leaves are drifting
A constant current takes them to where the sun resides
Dreams are carried with them, in waters ever shifting
Without much hesitation. a few are cast aside
Sodden leaves are drifting, to where the sun resides
I watch the streams meander, and I hear the seasons call
Water soothes the jagged stones, and sparkles in the sun
The moon arrives and sun goes down, as if from earth it falls
Then it melts into the river's flow, and seams blend into one
I hear the seasons call, as the seams blend into one
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Contest: 255
Sponsor Brian Strand
Closing my eyes
I bring back the vision
Of a hidden waterfall
A breathtaking sight
Of water cascading
Over stubborn rock
And other things.
Over time
Rocks and boulders,
And everything else
Lodged in the river,
Will give way
To rushing water
Charging ahead
In its relentless flow
Downriver.
Of all things
On Earth
I think
Water will outlast
The possessions
We feel are important
The toys
The gadgets
The rockets to the moon
And all things human.
Life is like river
with a constant flow
death dealer and life giver
in its murky waters we grow
not much of a forgiver
cold riptides can drag you below
but be strong and don't shiver
the current is worth fighting
more then you know...
love and hate both in its quiver
life can take a turn as it bows
not much of a forgiver
learn to roll with its blows
no one knows whats downriver
and only time shows
Just remember...
life is like a river
it constantly flows
the ground shakes
dust swirls in the air
cattle stampede
pandemonium
animals on the run
forest fire
downriver
the water tumbles
no going back
wildebeest confusion
crossing the raging torrents
green pasture allure
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28th November, 2015
Contest: Open Poetry
Sponsor: Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
The Senior Center was a beehive of active waiting
to die.
Bingo
but not ballroom dancing.
Knitting
but not garden expansions.
Physical therapy
but not yoga
and not chi gong,
much less mindful meditations
sung in four part harmony.
The new guy,
just growing into sixty-five,
asked them
How would we like to be remembered
one hundred years from now?
That doesn't seem likely,
I know,
but perhaps more likely together
than playing Solitaire
side by side.
I would like to be remembered
as healers of The River
said a somber SeptemberGenerian woman
surrounded by ancient lady friends.
No one needed to ask why.
We all knew
what was coming downriver
for future regenerations
of thirsty toxined minds
with biodiverse bodies.
And so we found younger allies
who owned property along The River,
beginning with the railroad company,
and the Mohegans
and the Pequots,
where a Senior knew a Senior
with a well-placed daughter,
and sometimes a son
of unusual cooperative and long-term focus.
Together we planted firs
and cedars along polluted and denuded banks,
for future generations to manage,
harvest for housing
and furniture
and fiber
and possibly even coffins
waiting for memories of polluted rivers
to die.
That was one hundred years ago
we started
in this regenerative Senior Center,
and still going strong
as each year
a new incoming class
of those who finally reached sixty-five
joined our river healing project,
more recently also producing fruit trees
and berries,
flax
and hemp,
mushrooms
and nuts
and sweetgrass baskets
woven by SeptemberGenerians.
Women and a few surviving men
and some more in-between
smiling together
at the round cedar table in the back,
remembering Elder healers
of our barren land
and naked River.
Purple shadows drift beneath the gray sky forge
Mists dipping into verdant valleys like quicksilver
Skimming the rapids where we hurtle downriver
Through seething whitewater of New River gorge
Hurtling toward narrow waters of the Gauley
'Neath the bridge to form the Kanawha mighty.
THIRD PLACE WINNER
written May 22, 2021; reworked May 23, 2021
entered "Bite Size 2" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Line Gautier
Mama rhino sways slow up Indigo River.
Baby into eager stride for stride and shivers.
Waterbucks nudge tip-toe go downriver.
High grass and baby dance together
A game of play and a chance deliver.
Butterfly flutters hasten thither.
Baby-tired falls asleep standing begins to quiver.
2/13/2021
Sitting on a hill with the sun in our eyes,
Blinded by the light, but no one really minds.
Enveloped in music,
Caressed by the grass,
Dreaming of our futures,
Reminiscing in our past.
One kid saw a cloud shift into a dog,
As we lay out on our backs,
A pink sky fades to black.
The fire spits a shower of ash,
But it looks pretty in the dark.
A rain of embers,
A burst of sparks.
We chant and sing together,
To each other, and the sky,
Using melodies and harmonies,
To warm us from the night.
We all start to shiver,
And the fire slowly dies.
My spirit flies,
My heart sighs-,
And I float downriver.
A new day can come,
Yesterday can leave,
But I won't grieve.
I've learned to live and love,
Laugh, smile and grow,
The memories are enough,
To fuel the desire for a tomorrow.
But frankly those nights,
My crowd and those guitars,
Are my happiest moments,
As we unravel by the flames,
Until morning's light,
I'm content.
Ravens swarm
above a railroaded manly path
I walk
With downriver pilgrims
through mortal silenced wilderness,
away from more dogmatic savagery
Deadly, I fear,
chattering
clattering
flapping righteous wings
roosting crones
stalking,
inviting history's dry splattered bones
to continue back
toward forward
And so continue
with othered chatter
now fluttering and twittering
off right
on to left
cawing barren winter trees
warning mystery's clawing concern
Not urgent
yet relentlessly hungry
Poignant memories
for eyes to see
ears to hear,
not follow
But walk along side
then back away,
leaping invisible borders
noted by naked trees,
silent witnesses
of paternal journey's ravenous flight
Now squawking
stalking right side
and behind,
encouraging hubris to continue on
oil-spilled tracks
But not too far
for they have a place to show
much like rook voices sound
rushing early spring's awakening brook
Streaming water chattering against rock,
fat rain too loud dropping
on scolding cold tin roof
shelter.
Rain comes
enjoying refound sounds
here to witness this black river
of clatter chatter
purifying ironed tracks
Ahead now,
growing
crowing across shivering river
through grey winter woodland
Raucous spell toward quiet left
pause to swell again
like summer's nighttime crickets.
Crowded ravens regather
to cautiously
silently
suspiciously roost behind me,
watching
What trauma will pass
from upriver,
uptrack,
up desolate time's revolution
hunting haunting mystery
Not urgent
aching dull memories
of starving othered bones
for breaking richer
deeper
quieter upriver fragile times
Pausing stormy visions
fleet fluttered reminders,
then off again
Flying right winged journeys
leaving left behind
to embitter
railroad walking mine.
Warm holes
anticipating slick poles
Wet holes
embracing warm poles
Bipolar linear dark division
flowing downriver nurture valleys
Dipolar round visions
forming mountainous spiral hierarchies
naturally uprising
Ecofeminist journeys inward
and down-valleyed
Egofatherist conquests
growing outward
and up-rallied
Deep waiting
vulnerable black holiness
before highest transparent
widely diverse
best practice polarities
Wet warm birthing wombs
above dry cold dying tombs
Worm downward holes
wet upward trying poles
Yeasty yintegrity holes
engaging just right
tangy yang poles
As empty
anticipates full
As 0
embraces 1
EarthTribe Revolution.
Winter survivors
open downstream
thawing toward cooperative green thrivers
Spring green economic
and democratic empowering,
multiculturing fertile resilience
On through summer climax
and then autumnal equinox 0-range
Transitions back to winter's more vaccinated closing
Closeted fear of losing
survivalist right brain terrified
by white privileged winter
punishing winds
Of depressing changes
against all EarthTribal joy
unseeded
unbreeding
dispassionate left brain red
rabid intolerance
of repressed right brain green
ecofeminists
Holding cooperative worldviews
blue/green compassionate EarthCentric
nutritional re-investments
in timeless spring EarthDays
Liturgical warm Yang easy
stretching downstream thaws
Also draws
yintegrity's timeless flowing feelings
more sacred poly-entheistic
downriver dipolar co-arising
toward EarthDay open
light empowering Seasons
Less secular monopolitical econo-mystic
values counter productively red
hotly profligate
in straight white patriarchal privileged
mutually assured destructive USA red
and unEarthly unsacred blue white
deep left brain freezes static
intended for surviving win/lose
ancient winterish wounds
Of historic
monocultiural
left brain dominant
lack of spring outside sacred
regenerative eco-health care
Planting and thereby receiving
green wealth developing
health survival systems
flowing downstream
time for win/win cooperative
warm green resonant
thrival.
If downriver a conscience sliver should make me wonder
Why in the face of challenges I should blunder
Fearing to thrive into a hope giver, preferring to pull asunder
Pangs of conscience, veering away from sticking out my neck
In case guilt should on my churlish cheek plant a peck
To denounce my façade and pronounce my person a fake protagonist, a wreck
Filled to the brim with shame
That in mundane fora I should lay claim
To an iota of virtue to redeem the name
Sunk into disrepute
As injustice and unfairness I couldn’t dispute
Despite carrying considerable clout with the ill repute
In ivory towers
Where iniquities devoured hours
Hobnobbing with gluttons who withered flowers
Decimating probity from petals of love
Whose hues and fragrance scintillated on wings of a white dove
Which couldn’t accommodate my cowardice to have
Shrunk from the centre of controversy
To the comfort of soapy sports, pleading for mercy
In the face of the moral and mental pleurisy
I felt as shame drove my sanity to the fringe
Where in comfort I could cringe
And die in shame on the binge
Where for a few pieces of silver I sold my soul
Vowing not to rock the status quo boat if I hoped to reach my goal
Wishing I could inscribe my name in gilt letters on a salvation scroll.
During colder winters the river freezes over
A vast sheet of ice spreading shore to shore
While the traffic awaits March’s spring thaw,
Old boatmen share traditional waterway lore
And skaters, cautiously marking the depths,
Note where the ice is much too thin to bear
The weight of the heavily clad winter reveler.
Young skaters unbalanced with arms a-flailing
Struggle to find their real strength and rhythm
Beneath them steady waters still are flowing,
Providing neither instruction nor algorithm
Like navigating the barges, downriver going,
Only time and practice will develop expertise,
Seemingly to watchers on the shore with ease.
THIRD PLACE WINNER
entered "Winter Wonders Within Nature" Poetry Contest
sponsored by M. L. Kiser
written November 29, 2021
Radically impacted from forming shadows
Moon on my back as i walk through the hallows
Picked apart, shifting dark, using rare powers
Don't let the internet waste all hours
Making that, Taking back, soil for flowers
Changing concerns with the money earned
Getting so worried when the world still turns
Underpaid, overworked, overworked, underpaid
Needing new ways for our children to learn
Investments and funds their on the run
Washed downriver to the beat of our drum
Factories churning, with speed and power
Building on building, this fantasy is shallow
Take it down, root around, show some devotion
In the horizon a fiery ocean
Swells and it heaves
Lives and it breathes
Ill swim in it still
until it leaves.
I check my empty bank account
And wonder how am I gonna make it.
I look at those red numbers
And think I can no longer take it.
I have trouble breathing
Because I am barely staying afloat.
I wish someone would help me,
Come save me with a lifeboat.
The bills keep piling up,
The collection calls never stop.
How did I hit rock bottom
When I was so close to the top?
I look upon my child's face,
My happy and charismatic baby girl...
I broke my promise to her
Because I can't give her the world.
Christmas was my favorite holiday
Now I dread December 25th.
I can't afford what she deserves
Because it's hard to buy even one gift.
Birthdays are just as bad.
I can't celebrate my child's big day.
It's hard to disappoint my child
Because I never imagined it being this way.
I have to figure out which bill will be late
How much gas I will need to get me by
How much money I can use for food
It's so frustrating, I just want to cry.
That seems impossible
Because I've already cried two rivers.
Every time I try to swim upstream,
Currents keep pushing me downriver.
It breaks my heart to look at my child,
Oblivious to all the negative
And realize that my beautiful offspring
Is my main reason to live.
I laugh to keep from crying
And so many people don't even know
Just how bad my situation is;
All they know is what I choose to show.
I keep a smile on my face
So people won't ask too many questions.
I try so hard to stay positive
Living in this detrimental recession.
I've gotten to the point that I can't cry anymore
And I sit still with that Novacane feeling.
As I continue trying to hold out on faith,
I find myself constantly kneeling,
Praying to God asking for strength,
Asking for some way over this hump,
Believing He will fix my pain
And help me overcome my financial slump.
I looked around and wondered how some had it so easy,
How I'm the one that has to struggle and others don't
But then I realized, I don't know their story
So I try not to compare mine to the unknown.
I just have to keep my head up
Do my best to stay strong for my family.
I believe that God's got it
And He knows just what's best for me.