Best Due South Poems
In the midst of a forty-five degree silicate sea
Winds carry arid mists
Blinding unprotected eyes
Burying the unsuspecting
Hard waves break on the dunes
Precipitating salty tears with cruel irony
Feet, firmly rooted
Skin, steadfast in the unrelenting midday sun
Arms, outstretched
Right hand, due south
Fingers, arrayed, elements, antennae
Left balances right
Body rotates, slowly
Shoulders
Hips
Balls of the feet
Right arm sweeps the compass
Eyes, closed in concentration
West; sparks of latent inspiration
Arc from distant faulted subduction,
Eyes, open in anticipation
Convected curtains corrupt the clear air
Shimmering over a non-existent lake
Mirrored mirage
Making me shiver despite the oppressive atmosphere
Blurred images come and go
Through the poorly receptive ether
Shapes raising spirits
Smudges dashing them
Despairing grey
Mysterious black
Optimistic white
Bleached and burned
A rainbow away from the memory of hope
Monochrome dreams distilled from coalesced emotions
Abstraction dissolves to substantion
Pulse becomes sway
Refracted gamut of grey
Washes pastels over a hazy outline
Flowing cotton dress
Desire
Copper hair
Passion
Dark bright eyes
Ardour
Heart and soul on fire
Flames of wishing, wanting, needing
Lick the air in every direction
Which way to run?
There is no choice
Always towards
Always the agonizing experience
Of illusion
Not this time...
I plead
tree frogs are singing
to orange-black tinted clouds
against purple sky
set in the foreground
an A-Frame rooftop peeks out
between long-leaf pines
further off due south
thunder still rumbles and rolls
threatening the peace
a single raindrop
draining from the carport roof
tickles down my nose
the sight and the sound
of the eternal present
in the perfect now
Even in darkness, I see the four walls
Resentment North while sadness due South
West something lost East pays the cost
Now there is nothing I see
She had left haunted life
Gasping for last breath
Then the ceiling
Headstone tomb
Sacrificed
Life
I am woman, hear me cry
With bloodcurdling screams as I slowly die
Pulled down into sadness, I travel due south
With no hopeful words to spew from my mouth
Buried deep within my shell
I torture myself within my own hell
Of self-loathing deeds, I wilt before I bloom
Fading away in my own world of gloom
I take a little pill and travel due north
To wash away the tears and push myself forth
I am Bipolar, see my moods shift
From melancholy to euphoric, I am whip-lashed in the rift
On the celestial equator she sits.
A splendor to the zodiacal constellation, she is due south.
As starry as he can be, Ursa Major (The Big Dipper) is
her neighbor.
As her picture unfolds, a spike of grain she holds.
Epithet is the Mother of God.
Her spiritual bond sanctifies all.
Her tender love is shown,
as God so loved the world.
An astrophysical being is a twilight of beauty.
So astral and metaphysical, she is truly beautiful.
Holding her offerings, she pauses.
A pictorial of exquisite art this woman is.
In moral excellence, she resides ecliptic in the sky.
Virgo, the Virgin, is the most beautiful zodiac sign.
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PENNED ON JULY 05, 2014!
Off Terra Firma sixteen weeks now.
My legs take roots; my eyes become infinite.
Past the Tropic of Cancer, the Lesser Antilles.
Talk of brown skinned girls, Purple Clouds of Magellan.
The Southern Cross peeking above the horizon at 18N°.
Those first few nights I stared at the wrong stars in my
confident knowing. A seabird landed
on the gunwale and mocked me, “Sunk now are your
North Star and Great Bear.”
“Sunk now are your North Star and Great Bear.”
I unlock an ancient mystery.
You take shape like a paragon in the sky.
Four beaming stars agleam forming the points of a cross.
Climbing higher and brighter. To be steered upon due south.
By Terra Del Fuego, you are directly above. Your language is universal.
Taking up our stern till we sink into the El Salvadorian night.
Group Think
Salute the troops
Salute the flag
Flag this poem
Flag the ragtag
Ragtag cities
Ragtag people
People don’t think
People are sheeple
Sheeple herds
Sheeple follow like birds
Birds that flock together
Birds flyin due south due to weather
Weather that's nice
Weather that's bad
Bad things happen
Bad to follow fads
Fads will make you suspect
Fads will make you believe
Believe you’re fighting for freedom
Believe you’re free
Free to make choices
Free to die
Die like the fowl
Die in the sky
Sky filled with death and blackness
Sky empty of light
Light is truth
Light ain’t always bright
Bright beams of
Bright lies in disguise
Disguised as patriotism or
Disguised to hide cries
Cries from refugees
Cries from blood beneath earth
Earth crying out
Earth dying from hurt
Hurt people
Hurt people
People justify
People lie like dogs
Dogs like the bone dry
Dogs’ tongues stay tied
Tied hands stay bound
Tied down with silence
Silence they say is golden
Silence has killed
Killed with censorship
Censorship…
Kills…
Written March 16, 2017
Like I said right before
you came
5 week's would come
and go
One day we would be happily patiently
eagerly awaiting your arrival
And seemingly the very next day
driving you back and waving you
a sad farewell and goodbye
But id rather that as much as it may sting
Better that than having you never have
came at all
And at least you have a loving family
awaiting your arrival on the other side
So thanking you my Sister Joanne from
the piece missing from my heart
For coming in the 1st place as that
was solely down to you
And as a parting gift please I pray you
know this if nothing else beside
You are the middle center ground truly
blessed to be loved on either side of
the equator in equal increasing amounts
both true north and due south
And let me finish by saying merely this
You haven't even barely left no time
has in fact elapsed
But already you are sorely missed
My throat feels scratchy
I'm irritable and edgy
Coming down with the flu
Trying to go for success
I'm still pending
Reaching out to you oh Lord
Please don't make your ears too heavy
I'm ready to repent as my levy
I'm turning down the intensity
I need to proceed with caution
Too much chaos surrounding me
I need an exorcist
You're thinking poltergeist
I'm thinking of the mother of all heists
I'm disenfranchised
Officials turned on me too many times
Situations is becoming desperate
I'm desolate
I don't care about a wish list
It is going to be a bitter Christmas
Santa changed course
He is due south
Asparagus is stuck in my mouth
Isn't it ironic
Every new job I get
I had to have my tooth extract
No wonder I get this toothless aggression
I can't think straight
Every time I open up my mouth
You’ll see there is no more wisdom teeth
It is a clean slate
But I am keen to participate
On getting a break
A break into reality
Of a broken home
I might predict a bright future
Like Notre Dome
Without the hunchback
No matter how I lack
I'm always able to bounce back
Like a volleyball
I’ve been beat
fallen
I'm velocity and all
Crazy summer saying
Where is the one I recognise
But I won't cry for yesterday
Somehow I’ll learn to survive
It kills me to see you so heart-less
Here, take mine; to me, it is useless
... Perfectly scienced, just for you
We watched as yours grew wings and flew
Due south, but can't escape the winter
We tried to mend the crimson splinters
But no amount of love or glue
Will fix the mess inside of you
So once again I'll take your pain
A wasted wish for things to change
Oh my Grandpa dear-he had just one big beer. He thought he could see, his eyes were fuzzy and not clear. So on the sofa he did lay, as he slept away the day.
Oh my Grandpa dear-snoring so loud, everyone thought you were sleeping on a cloud. You stopped your snoring as you rolled over and headed due south, A fly does not enter a closed mouth.
8/9/2019
A Dance In Del Rio
He poured the sand out of his boots
An' struck a trail due South
Searchin' for a brown eyed gal with
A pouty little mouth
He'd met her down in Del Rio
While makin' up this herd
They had a long conversation
But never spoke a word
It was a barn dance Friday night
He watched her dance with ease
He asked her for the next slow dance
She answered,"Pretty please?"
They danced them all that lovestruck night
The fiddles just for them
Was no doubt in the cowboy's mind
She was the one for him
An' then the sun came up that morn
An' marked that fateful dawn
She placed two fingers on his lips -
Of a sudden she was gone
An' so he searched and searched in vain
But never did he see
That brown eyed gal from Del Rio
Whose groom he thought he'd be
The old man's eighty somethin' now
An' smiles at what life does
He thinks of that one memory
An' wonders who she was.
The brown lawn may not be an eye catcher or head turner,
but a Rose of Sharon tree, reminding me of the Middle East
and the Holy Land, grows quietly and slowly in my back yard,
sandwiched by two varieties of plum trees. To the east of it,
there is a lemon tree, a row of catcuses, and Two tall Palms
overlooking everything. Due south of it along the borders of
the house beneath my humming bird feeder, there grows,
though seasonal, the most beautiful flowers. In my front
yard, there stands a large fruitless mulberry tree, the beloved
of birds and squirrels. In addition to her role as nesting place
and play ground, she also serves up plenty of Summer shade
and not a few of Autumn leaves. My roses, the sweet bearers
of beauty and color as well as my guarantors of thorn pricks, stand guard at my front window next to the front entry door.
102819PoSoupContest, Writing Challenge-Flowers, Dear Heart
Wlishkobi Ode; 15P
Speaking Spanish wasn't easy for a gringo like me, but I had no choice. I was playin' cards and drinkin' Mezcal at a nowhere bar in El Paso. I didn't have any money in my pockets but I was bluffing to win, I lost. I stood up, pulled my six gun and shot a man dead. The bar emptied out quick and so did I, money in hand. I jumped on that old pinto and rode due south because I knew the border wasn't far. My heart was beatin' as fast as that horse could gallop but I had the money, thank God. I looked out of place in Mexico, my jet-black cowboy hat amongst the sombreros and dark eyes staring at me, so I tipped my hat lower. Down a dusty Juarez Street, I found a cantina so I hitched my horse and went inside feeling weary. A pocket full of money and a Tequila bottle, I was joined by a senorita more beautiful than I could imagine. Her flowing dark hair and dress captivated my eyes as I told her my story dancing to the sound of mariachis in the background. She said the $300 dollars I stole I could turn into $600 with her help. Eager to double my money, we sat down at a table full of men playing cards and drinking Pulque by the glass. I felt confident as we won hand after hand, her hand in mine, a Tequila bottle in the other. I scooped up the winnings and kissed her soft skin feeling pretty lucky when a bullet ripped through my chest. Lying on the dirt floor in my own blood, a bandito took the money from my hand as my senorita, on her knees cried. My home in Albuquerque is far away now. I lay in an unmarked grave in the Sonoran Desert. The money I had won, well someone else is playing cards with it now...
you sped by and I glimpsed your face
your stuff all packed for your quick getaway
you've tried before but it didn't take
a fool never learns from the old mistakes
you left a treasure under a Palo Verde tree
down in the Valley where all was green
you're heading north with your heart mapped out
forgetting a tiny piece that lays due South
you hit the brakes as the interstate forks
your heart a little heavier than you had thought
the song that plays on your radio
says you stayed too long...it was time to go
without a thought or without any cares
you say again your silent little prayer
"don't let what I'm doing be a huge mistake
am I too early or just an hour too late"
you hit Phoenix and you're feeling fine
ready to try it all one more time
the dust won't settle on your yesterdays
the shadow on your soul you thought was filed away
like a 12-step program you try to justify
take all the wrongs and make them all right
but it all comes back when you try to go to sleep
the love that is new and the one you couldn't keep