Best Enlarged Poems
This road is snake-like except
for the crusty scales of an intestinal
late dusk. A boy treaded on the
lane tracks lean and nomadic...
burnt shoulders grilled and toasted by
the sun, as if his coal skin sparked like
burning diamond weeds. In a flash, a tender
sorcery poured in my veins. There and then,
I longed to whisper a tune, play the tambourine or
partake of the loaf in my sack with him.
But he waited for paper clouds to ruffle his hair,
seemingly undisturbed by pilgrims like me
holding unto holy relics and bones of night. The gauze
shirt as his frock winged with the silver winds,
windblown stroking my ebony tresses with a whisper
hushed by his delicate omnipresence.
In a dimly lit bus, sand wheezed tribal notes
moist on my eyelids uprooted by uncontained
temples of longing, now becoming thick
as woolen destiny. If only for a flicker of time,
his eyelids met mine so briefly... parting saline dust
of sacred, smiling gazes. I was inside a cell
of a wombed bus. He was outside enlarged by a
hundred stars exploding dewdrops, inviting eternity.
For a fraction of silence, we met somewhere
between the fluorescent of our twin eyes. He, the angel
first fondly encountered ; I, the dreamer ever bewildered…
I remember...I was five.
---oooo----oooo---
(( P.D.'s " your Own Favorite Poem
by nette onclaud))
Your ass is slightly enlarged
Your hips are somewhat wide
You have wrinkles all over your thighs
You eyes they droop
Crows feet shoot me dead
With your dreary eye stare
The world sees ugly, over due and despair
Your chest is a scar
Red and ripe, disfigured and bare
Your time is up
Old maiden of the past
Your saggy story makes you a sad lass
However not all is as it seems
Those passerby’s who seek no depth
They know not the secrets of innocent youth
They drink not from the water of the wise well
I see you, so clear I cry
Your smile, your laughter and you wonder why?
I have fallen for you, faults and all
For me it’s your beauty that stands so tall
You are a painting on a museum wall
Desired, your smile for sure does enthrall
Your voice sings to the heavens above
Your touch upon my heart melts my cold dark wounds
The lines I see upon your face
Each a sign of wisdom and grace
May I kiss that scar upon your chest?
May I confess you that scare is the door to your desires
A place I dreamed to live from the start
Let me dance, let me sing
You are my beauty, so let me in
Love letters flow, like grapes to wine
Silently we sway to and fro, passing time
In my veins you flow, you can not run away
Needless dances of insecure thoughts
If only, if only I could have this last Serenade
Wisdom Tree
A solitary man
Makes his way up the mountain
One step at a time
The life he knows further and further behind
He wishes to be alone
Away from the busyness
The noise
Responsibility
Activity
Work that is never done
Conflict
The need to be in control
He reaches the mountain top
Sits down and crosses his legs
He looks out at the landscape
His village a small mass of thatched roofs
People unseeable
Smoke rises from a central fire
The lake so small
it looks like it can fit into a wooden spoon
The horizon surrounds him
He feels the pebbles beneath him
Blades of grass are myopically large
He watches as the ants toil
Are their lives not the same?
Seasons change
Summer to fall
winter to spring
He witnesses it all
His beard lengthened
As his mind enlarged
Secrets have been revealed
He’s disconnected yet part of all
The base of him grows into the ground
Others journey to the mountain top
Seeking his wisdom
They sit with him for a while
Never staying for long
Each person takes so that they may give
The wise man transformed
Arms outstretched
reaching to all the horizons
Now covered with leaves
The seasons continue to change
He sends his leaves down to the village
Beckoning them to the mountain
Not wanting to be alone
"Come sit beneath my branches
caress my bark smell my scent
know my soul."
He’s no longer is able to speak
All that he knows
resides in the rings of his seasons
Still he offers wisdom
Put your ear to his trunk
You can still hear his heart beat
His breath whistles through the leaves
His seeds cover your woolen coat
You are a solitary man
making your way down the mountain
One step at a time
Closer and closer to your village
To the ones you love
As you walk through the village
you shake the seeds off your coat
They fall on the fertile ground
The wise man
has finally come home.
" From the debt of my heart"
The African child
Sat behind the bamboo fence
He was sober and tense
Sputtering and wondering.
He forsook the bush meat
And the gathering under the moonlight
For sobriety and the causes of his uncertainties.
His clothes were like dried leaves
His feet like openings in the eaves
He longed to see a brighter tomorrow
He clarified the causes of his sorrow;
Sins of the father,
Fighting not to make things better
Therefore darkening the weather,
Making his destiny falter and bitter.
Tears exuded from the sound of his flute,
His fears enlarged like a parachute
But one thing he never understood,
Watch and pray, oh! African root
For your foundation is stinky, filthy,
Faulty and guilty...... watch and pray.
I watched it as it was born in the drenching rains of spring,
Cool condensation drops left over from winter's cold,
As it grew and grew and finally pedaled
Into a white, but, quite young rose.
As a child of youth, it swayed in spring and summer
Breezes, winds and gales, heat and cold,
Its petals enlarged and its fragrance became
A daily delight to inhale whenever bumble bees had gone.
Maturing, it grew beautifully, along with its siblings,
Arrayed upon so many branches of its home, the rose bush tree,
And provided me a diversion by its beauty from my daily
Worries and concerns - and life's hustles and bustles.
But alas, summer could not sustain itself beyond its appointed time
And began fading into fall, that time of red, yellow, brown and golden leaves,
Browning and dying tall grasses, shortening daylights and cooling evenings,
Deep into this Indian summer, onward towards winter’s cold and snows.
It gradually lost a pedal here, a pedal there, a pedal every other day
And finally had but one white pedal left which I watched fall floatingly
Down upon browned and yellowed grasses dying, leaving but its sprig
Upon its home rose tree branch in September breezes.
It had lived. It was bloomed and went through its cycle of days and months,
Sunrises, sunsets, moon sets and moon rises of silver shines,
Folks admiring its beauty and inhaling its stirring fragrances, as I had done,
And in its time succumbed to natures laws of life and death.
If it did nothing else, such as make a great discovery, climb Mt. Everest,
Win Olympic gold medals, become pope in the Vatican, it did a greater thing
In reminding me life is short; we must enjoy it now – it will be gone tomorrow
- This last white rose of summer.
W.C.Hull © 2020-23-9-772 (D)
Castle In The Sand
Waves besiege the shore
As crashing long lost lovers--
Lonely lions roar--
Salty cling of sultry air
Glistens as sunlight weakens...
Latte-coloured sand
Reveals waving fiddler crab
The male--his Huge hand--
Tempting females to his lair,
His deep castle in the sand.
~by deborah burch©
5/14/2012
*Note: the fiddler crab
they mate every two weeks...the male stands outside his two-foot deep elaborate burrow in the sand (castle) and waves his very enlarged claw enticing all females who pass by...when one shows interest, she stops for a second or two...stares at him...and he goes in to his castle, comes out and repeats this a few times until she makes up her mind....lol...once he has convinced a female, he seals the door to his castle, and there they stay...well, for a while...lol...db
Sponsor Nancy Jones
Contest Name Things that suck
Lest we forget the Bad decisions …
(Myxo the rabbit steal the Bagmans Bunny), first use of a deadly weapon
( Cane toads 4 cane beetles,)( 12 atom bombs exploded …what!!!)
Does anyone remember back in 1955 …
why we were blessed with atom bombs….
we are lucky to be left alive …
The Liberals said its fine…
No need to bloody worry mate….
12 atom bombs that’s all…
The Poms might us incinerate…(British)
And leave some mushrooms tall…
And we of the convict strain …
10 Thousand died that’s all…(bones kept 12 thousand suspicious deaths….)
Brisbane town a falling radioactive rain …
Geiger counter saw it fall……….tech guy couldn’t zero the counter it got worse near window,
rain in Brisbane…..1955/56
So I said to a Pom you dropped the bomb….
No, a tower they’d had a seat…
Strontium 90 in the milk for some….
Off the grass the cows did eat…….free milk for the school kiddies back then:(…
So the order of the garter …
Was given to some mug …
For atom bombs the barter….
And they surely burnt our rug.. :(
The master is there for the master….
To keep the worker down …..
To contract for the cheapest slave…
Like the business side of town …….
The CSIRO man Marston? In the fifties found enlarged thyroids in sheep he checked all over
Australia Found evidence of the radioactive poisoning of Australia …He tried to warn the
Australian public but only got his comments In some farmers magazine due to political
interference by the master …..
This is what happened and there is a documentry available in the Aussie ABC shop.
Many birdhouses seen
In the different shape
On a backyard fence
In different colors
The squirrel is searching
For a place to nest
One squirrel chased a bird
From the fenced birdhouse
The squirrel ate the eggs
A mother bird laid
Then when shew was done
The squirr4el got busy
She enlarged the hole
She made it bigger
Then the squirrel decided
To make another
Entrance to the house
She chewed a hole
Now for the side door
Making it larger
A shadow’s bean juts out over the shore
One that I have not seen before
Enlarged beyond my own
No color, no tone.
I’ve been this way for many a time
Was young then and in my prime,
I have not seen it until now
Missed it, but how?
No streaks from the sky could be this
It troubles me but how could I miss,
It was not from a dream
My reality seems so extreme
Tried to imagine intergalactic arrival
Would life here end without survival?
What if there becomes annihilation
This would stamp out all such creation.
If I am this shadow I would be the same
Only thing is, whence did it came
Comparing my motions as I walk
It straddles me and doesn’t talk.
I know shadows occur but not like that
I had ones that were smaller and younger in fact,
It didn’t shimmy to or from
Gives me the chills, just can’t get warm.
I noted some changes in shape and trim
It looked at me in sort of a grin,
Tapped me on my left shoulder
“I am you, we are now much older”.
Give me heaven's eyes
Instead of these earthly lies
For they paralyzes
The gifts inside.
Give me angel ears
So I can hear
With a clear transmission
Not these tattered incisions.
My lungs are enlarged with an ocean of guilt
Like a flower, I quietly
silently, wilt
After all we only bloom for a moment
I might as well own it.
Break through the barricades
Of the “good old days”
What a deception
Playing on my perception.
What a joke
Trying to suffocate and choke.
There’s nothing good back there
Nothing, nothing, absolutely
Nothing.
Just a another trap
Keeping me looking back
Soldiers move on
So when you remember my name'
remember I’m gone,
On a new mission
Like a spiritual obstetrician
Got a new birth
Found some eternal worth.
On a higher level
Looking down on the devil.
Nothing left to say
I’m done doing it my way.
There’s only one way
I find it every day
When I pray
Every day
One way.
Shackles can’t abide there
Just a holy flare
Lighting the path ahead.
Some say I’m dead
That may be true
I’m dead alright,
dead to you!
You can’t encounter the glory
And continue in the same story
You can’t shower in light
And return to the night.
There is restitution
For all that spiritual prostitution
There is a day of reckoning
Wisdom is… answering his beckoning.
Where can you run in a cage tightly closed?
When you surrender you emerge,
like a rose,
The desolate find waters
The fatherless become daughters
The chosen will shine
In his time,
The chosen shall shine.
BY: Sabina Nicole
(Walking Seven Steps)
Catching the last shot of the sunset sky
Even more rustier than before
Delayed my departure.
I asked my friends to go ahead
And I would catch up with them, but
The perfect shot took longer than I thought.
Packing my bags I hurried downhill knowing
I was lagging far behind the others.
The thickness of the night engulfed me
And I knew I had lost my trail.
Stumbling over a stone I had also
Lost my torch, and started walking blindly
In the darkness of the woods.
The pitch black trees seemed statued
To the ones that breathed life
When I had often trampled
Through the varied wooded parks.
The autumn leaves were crackling
Under my light footsteps as
The tiniest crescent moon smiled
Through the bare leaved branches
Welcoming my partnership on our lone journey.
How long I walked, my feet knew not
How long I would walk, my heart knew not
My map was dark and my eyes could read it not.
But my ears were sharp to hear another crackling
Under footsteps many times heavier than mine.
From the dark slope above I saw a shadow enlarged
Hurrying down to my path as if to lead me out.
My breath was calm, my eyes happy, and quietly
My adventurous spirit followed him wherever he lead.
The woods became denser and our pace quicker
With a click of his finger the air became fresher.
So intoxicated was I with the heavenly air that
It perfumed my soul, my very breath and
Every transient thought that fleeted in,
Till I stood before a very flowery welcoming cottage.
I extended my hand to my shrouded partner and said:
'It takes seven steps together to make a friend.
We have walked more than seven steps together to......'.
My hooded companion most divinely intervened:
'It takes seven steps together to make a friend
It takes seven hours together
To make any journey most heavenly'.
Without raising his chin,without accepting my extended hand
He turned his back to retreat into the woods
As mysteriously as he had entered it.
Today's true tom tale;
Today was Dr. day at the clinic
I ended up the day quite a cynic
I'd been awake three days,
With a toothache and pain that slays
My jagged teeth cutting up my tongue
And the promise of help to which I clung
For no more of this pain could I endure,
I desperately did seek some kind of cure
Appointment at 2:15- told the taxi 1:30
I knew the fib was a tad dirty...
"Hedge the bet" one might say,
Sad to think one must be that way,
Of course in this case he showed up at 1PM
And I was in the waiting room at 1:15
Fastest response I'd ever seen.
So I sat in the waiting room as
Clerical shifts came and went
My patience seemed nearly spent
At last I was escorted to an examining room,
To sit and ponder my future doom...
For over an hour I sat there,
Reading all the posters on the wall,
About various diseases,
Soon I had them all!
Cervical cancer,
Malignant volvulus,
Infected ovaries,
Fibroid tumors in my uterus,
A glumaceous gluteus,
Obstructed bowels,
Deviated septum
Leukemia,
Anemia, edemia
Enlarged prostate,
Shrunken prostate
Eczema, Lupus
Leprosy.....
All these for me!
I hoped he didn't keep me
waiting too much longer,
Surely I wasn't getting stronger....
I'd be dead in ten more afflictions
If he could not cure all these conditions.
I felt my life force start to fade
Look at what these posters made!
Surely life was slipping away,
I couldn't stand,
I began to sway.
In he finally came,
Suddenly I did not feel
the same,
I might survive the day after all,
My approaching death grew
rather small.
Next time, bring a book,
For in terms of time,
It hardly took,
Much time to catch
All these ills,
Or at least come in,
With made out wills.
my little heart is heavy
with its burden of unspoken words
feelings needing expression
are not allowed to be freed
they remain in stately chambers
pampered and spoiled
to keep them complacent
safe from rejection's rankle
my little heart is heavy
the weight is causing pain
the chambers enlarged
with unruly words
tearing the place apart
demanding voice
the cajole as they roll
this way and that
pounding on doors
my little heart is heavy
perhaps it will burst
and all will pour out
without a doubt
something will give way
to another, I say
and the tumbling torrent of torment
will wash any chances away
my little heart is heavy
for just a few moments
in the sweet silence of sympathy
help carry it, for you see
my little heart has become
too heavy for me
Eileen Manassian
Why all this Destructions? – Zamreen Zarook
God created this whole universe for the mankind,
He gave everything lavishly, thinking that we might be kind,
Even though people are able, they seems to be blind,
Whereas people failed to mind.
The sky which was created for the man started to scream and cry,
Since good morals and ethics were decry,
The fire started to do the mimicry,
As the water lands cannot bear, it came to man with a battle cry.
Land couldn't hold and it started to gorge,
Fresh air merged with chemicals and started to urge,
Whatever created for the man have started to over charged,
Stop evil and let the merits be enlarged.
2 a.m. Another Mother's Day morning. Today I'm going to relate army life to some ladies in my life. This past Thursday my Infantry company conducted a training meeting. Weeks ago I had thought about using helicopters to transport the majority of the company out to gunnery instead of using buses, borrowing other vehicles or using solely sole power since our combat vehicles have to be transported because of money reasons. Keep in mind, the two star general mentioned leaders should implement all systems into our training a few months earlier. Kinda amazing we need to be told these things, but I was never a believer in training non-thinkers. Some of the specialists sitting in for platoon sergeants eyes enlarged with excitement, other members of the team thought, "yeah right," while others laughed as I had said it jokingly, even though I was as serious as, Yolanda Linn checking corners after her oldest got done scrubbing floors.
Anyways, the XO comes back the next day and says, "1sg, so I ran that idea by the Battalion XO, and he thought that was a great idea. It'll save money on buses because helicopter fuel is already budgeted and our Soldiers will enjoy it." What my company didn't know was that my reasoning went beyond the stupidity of taking buses to training. If you think my mom would allow me to ride a bus in Afghanistan, you are outside of your god-given mind!
Mother, thank you for discipline, for teaching me humility. For months on end, I watched you make ends. Thank you for making me think. I remember asking you questions and you would never tell me directly, you'd point to a dictionary. You were the first step in self discovery. I'm reminded of a Curtis Mayfield song "The Makings of You" when I think of you: a little bit of sugar... Undoubtedly, the infantry will thank me, but it will be in honor of the goddess who named me her first born baby. Love you from the depths of the ocean to the most distant star the human eye can see. Happy Mother's day too you, and too the woman who loves a deep reflecting man.