Best Excavating Poems
*
*A*
*garden*
*discovered*
*by accident*
*whilst excavating*
*a castle wall, it was *
*the missing piece of the big*
*puzzle that that had baffled many*
*experts for the last fifty odd years, *
*their finds included piles of human bones. *
*************************************
*They painstakingly continued and found*
*sinuous paths leading to a maze *
*that were all twisting and turning *
*but all led to the centre, *
*a place of sacrifice*
*the experts agreed, *
*victims were trapped *
*and sealed in,*
*their lives*
*lost. *
*
Words used
Garden/maze/Paths/Sinuous/Turning/Trapped/Puzzle/Twisting/Lost/Wall.
Written 28th June 2020.
For Maze 10 Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored By A Dear Heart.
Oh! how gracefully the trees, flaunting splendor lilt
Swaying autumn’s palettes in rhythms of winds ruby
As the sun is setting, flaming glow of gamboge skies
Amber breeze is blushing rosy glimmer of eventide
And robins are excavating pecking on decaying lawn
Where ducks are ambling, ogling seductive bond
Amid people strolling, pausing to gaze at opaline arc
Floating crimson filaments on tinted purple canvas
Enhanced by falling colors whirling mellowed vibes
In twilight’s golden ambiance alluring romantic eyes
Gleam of eve’s fading, ceding reign to peeking moon
As scent of you appeals, quiescently enveloping me
Enchanting where I sit, under twinkling stellar magic
Enticed by euphony of mockingbird’s sensuous song
Articulating for me eloquently, love is never too far
When autumn blazes passions titillating lovers’ hearts
October 20, 2021
Placed 1st: Let’s Mix It Up Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Nature
Unrhymed couplet/Unrhymed imagism/Free verse
The eye is such a braggart with its emerald this and hazel that.
Does no one dream about an ear or a nose?
(personally ... I find the shin and pinkie toe quite fascinating)
But it is a place the Poet seldom goes,
still hot on cornea fever ... stanza after stanza after
stanza.
It's like I'm part of a Dickens' novel: A Tale of Two Spheres (oh dear)
Velvet pupils coming at you ... (attention spans beware ... we're discussing EYES)
... but what about the palms and the cowlick?
(do you have the gumption to make it poetic?)
Or is it back to the drawing board - sleepless nights
excavating further facets of the dead-lights.
I know its "infinite depths" make you sigh with Shakespearean fervor,
but really, enough is enough,
when there's so much more of me to love.
Have you so quickly forgotten the beauty of a rose?
(plug your nose and see how it goes)
I want so bad to see that lovely weirdness
chilling out beneath your temples.
I pray it's not too much to ask for a little ink spilled
to the one who showed you piano,
the sound of rain, your mother's voice.
(that curious curvature holding up your glasses
deserves a rhyme or two
... not another verse
about my baby blues!)
Just once I wanna hear someone say,
Your nose makes my heart run ...
Your chewed off fingernail brings to mind the crescent moon ... !
For your next Magnum Opus could you spare some room
for the underdog anatomy.
Did you know I have a crooked ear that's more endearing
than a heart carved into a tree?
Didn't think so! (iris hog)
Sifting through blood & marrow
Excavating remnants of my heart
Trying to piece together
The reason for my treason
Nervously sitting upon the judgment seat
Twiddling my guilt away
Beads of blood mix with perspiration
As the adversary begins to interrogate
No amount of negotiation
Can save me from my sins
No amount of apologies
Can erase the pain I've inflicted
Upon so many innocent souls
Time soon reveals herself my enemy
Laying accusation before the jury
Needless sorrow floods the heart
Regret pierces sun dried skin
Cutting sharper than any blade can cut
Frustration finds itself within the constraints of my mind
Leaving me to wallow in mutiny
Before my wake.
THE CRADLE OF MANKIND.
The archaeologists of this era
Were about to excitedly find
The Cradle of Mankind
Where the origins of humankind
Had been found, the news was about
To be revealed to the whole world
And so the ears of our globe were glued
To their radios in 1947, they heard,
About this mammoth remarkable finding
Painstakingly excavated , it’s evidence binding.
Mrs Ples’s skull was found,
And with carbon dating,
Archaeologists were rewarded
Most certainly worth waiting!
Estimated to be 2.3 million years’ old.
Mrs Ples (as the archaeologists named her)
All this time had been hidden
For many a year
But there is still more to hear!
It is said that she is the missing link,
We may each think what we want to think!
Archaeologists were about to discover
Other unbelievable phenomena,
Which supported the belief of evolution,
And steered many into total confusion!
God is omnipresent, and
The Alpha and Omega, He has been
Looking down on earth for millenniums
From the beginning of time,
He is omniscient, He believes in me,
And I in Him, He is the Divine!
The Sterkfontein caves are now famous,
Planet Earth was listening, this story was big!
In 1998 archaeologists discover
Yet another important find,
This boggled the mind!
They laboriously dug in this one excavation
Over twenty years, Layer upon layer of ground
And thus Little Foot was found!
He, some say it’s a she, was gently assembled,
And lies in a Pretoria museum,
Together with Mrs Ples,
Archaeologists still dig,
They insist, that there are still hidden treasures
And take great measures,
To work carefully and diligently
Excitedly say there is much more to find
Underneath and beyond the Sterkfontein caves,
Patiently, waiting to uncover
Yet another, one of a kind!
I believe with soul, heart and being
In The Almighty, maybe He even lent the
Archaeologists a helping hand, we cannot
Ignore these finds, they are not fantasy but real
Furthermore we were given the gift of logic,
And ultimately the archaeologists will kneel,
And praise and thank God Almighty!
Over the years
some were carefully carried
tied up in tiny bundles
held tight against the heart
While the other
more awkward ones
were pulled behind in a cart
like so many precious parcels
taken along for the ride
But a few fell
and rolled astray
off by the wayside
along the way
Some were missed
right away
with heartaches and tears
While others were
eventually missed
after some years
And some not noticed at all
I see people now and then
rummaging around
by the wayside
for what they've lost-
Some with long, sharp sticks
poking, prodding absentmindedly
collecting debris
Some on hands and knees
with brush and trowel
excavating so carefully... but-
Most of the time
the wayside is no place
for happy reunions
Often what was lost
if it was, indeed, of value at all
will not still be there
after some years
but snatched up and carried away
with care, by another who
saw its worth
Or degraded past
the point of repair
until what was lost
can never be recaptured
or replaced
Or sometimes what was 'lost'
simply wasn't worth keeping
in the first place
but purposefully discarded
cast off like old garments
too uncomfortable to wear
Relationships too heavy to bear
tainted by disrespect
dishonesty, neglect
subtle streams of unkindness
ever-so-slightly visible envy
marking their faces
like red flags
But the idea of
something having been lost
is powerful, and nags
at our hearts 'til we forget-
these things and their cost
yes, we forget-
Most of the time
the wayside is no place
for happy reunions
I combed cool waters of your baby blue
crystalline Jewel as you waded waterfall
waves washing my stellar rainbow rays
arching it melted into the warm womb
of transducing tangoing Earth
Her Violet Flame devoured us both
as nectared dewdrops to fuel the fire
our soma swirling into ecstatic orange
oxytocined crane flowers whispering
wisdoms to a hundred yellow butterflies
fluttering and flirting
They circled a sunken Atlantean apex
atop where you ruled anew with Baconian
brown locks surrounded by sirens serving
savoury silver sardines, oolite oyster shells
sang solos as dolphins dived, oceanic mouthed
In Ancient Egypt you followed my runcinate
rulings or indigo sorrow siglums, sighing
becoming slimmed seeker who served
Thoth well whilst wreathing my wounded
worthiness and fallow fallopian tubes
at pyramidal plumed midnight hour
In our Grecian lifetime you draped alabaster
urns lighting my marble mantelpiece
I watched breath enter your nebulae nostrils
as you crafted provincial proverbs instructing
slaves to whiten your garb with lemons from
our sculpted garden
On lavender Celtic hills we exchanged kilts
not knowing whose waist was whose
barefoot we flaunted sleek sharp sapphire
studded swords dancing necessary wild wars
Who remembered and who forgot
where in ether our nestling niche napped
as games of betrayal, fear or doubt
doubled into involuting circles and spirals
each tried to neck THE VOID as naked
excuse for not excavating heaving Heart
How much escaping, escapades, evolutionary
clocks cloak our cusps or cues or custard
synchronicities
how many summer summit starlings must
seek to sing of sorrow or of wolves, withering
willows, watermelons on this Planet of
coloured curriculums
holding dear our distinctive designs where
lacy lament is but another aperture into Space
I seek not to know !
Once upon a whim
As the excavating limb
of a tractor under-tucked
the feed it hoisted up,
It seemed as though it goes
Akin to an elephant’s nose.
When later the machine
Departed from the scene
With scary points hung in
beneath the folded limb,
Its appearance was akin
to a giant scorpion.
Dirty worms squirming
Excavating with instinct
Wiggle brown wormy ~
Shoveling thick dirt
Accidently cut a worm
It wiggles in pain
Ensure you allude to all that has been recorded.
Every creature that has lived inside the rocks.
A long-forgotten former planet has appeared.
Awareness arises as we break the padlocks.
Electric fan blades are humming in a hot place.
When you're alone, and there's no oxygen.
Loneliness looms overall aped a pitiful prince.
Bedlam rises when commotion inside deepens.
Reveal if that's innocuous, or it may injure people.
Are words yet another excavation experience?
Is it feasible to resurrect a moribund principle?
Did you find it bothersome or maybe mysterious?
There is a hole where the hamster once paddled.
Since the snake hissed at it but didn't even eat it
As the animal lays on the floor, its insides splayed.
Earth has morphed into the fabric under the seat.
Besides birds, giant excavators lay on their palms.
Underneath, you may view mind-boggling and tangled traffic.
Yet, excavating a gigantic hole in the center of homes.
Let Earth deal with melting lakes or roving nomadic.
From the tenth balcony, the building site is visible.
A goliath, dead pit discharges light, fire, and vitality.
Quietness loaded up with facts yelled in din risible.
Coated with glass, gaze at a flying towel on a gallery.
Written: June 19, 2021
This or That, Vol 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
I’ll never fully understand,
Why any sane man would believe,
That an explosion could create,
All that exists to be conceived,
That almost 14 billion years has past,
Of evolutionary change,
We used to swing form tree to tree?
To me, that sounds a little strange!
So do they fully understand,
The inner workings of the mind?
Did they come across Pandora’s’ box,
While excavating mines?
Or have they traveled back in time,
To watch the process of creation?
Maybe they've made contact with E.T.s’
From a parallel dimension?
Were they given sacred knowledge?
Of this existence and the stars?
Do they now know where we come from,
Why we’re here and who we are?
They're our top government officials,
The NSA and FBI,
They are the people, whom have power,
Over people like you and I,
Or are they simply just misled?
Unconscious soldiers for the devil,
A pawn in a war they’ll never win,
And fighting upon a subliminal level!
So, do they know not what is going on?
Or do they simply choose not to care?
Do they understand what happening here?
It’s called subliminal warfare!
Copyright © 2009 Zachary Jackson
Form:
What things to do on a snowy day?
Drifts to the withers on a half grown horse.
Blizzard conditions prohibit outside stay,
So inside the barn I'm found of course.
With thoughts adrift to former times,
I see the faces of those now late.
Those for whom my heart yet chimes,
Gathered all, around Heaven's gate.
Excavating memories that have amassed,
Of those now sharing my life in part.
Even of all those who have long passed,
That still have residence within my heart
I'm a simple guy,
I like video games, music and succeeding without trying,
So when a man comes up to me and tell me he can save my life,
Who am I to turn down a free book from a generous passerby,
Strange how after hundreds of Reddit articles I find these red words the most astounding,
Each verse saturated with a truth beyond my understanding,
I embraced the scripture in my new-found belief,
Ditching skeptics and scientific contention for a biblical motif,
So with my newfangled faith I embarked on a holy endeavor,
To sift through a lifetime of personal uncertainty to uncover the answer,
I found myself under bottomless pizza boxes,
Buying time stocks from the evolutionary clock,
Discovering purpose through glimmering game discs,
Fashioning polygonal personalities into personable obelisks,
Uncovering the depths of my psyche excavating mountains of dirty laundry,
Rinse on, dry off, purging both physical filth and emotional quandaries,
Sharing walkways with speeding cars enslaved to a monetary duty I can't shirk
A journey of a thousand steps every pilgrimage to work,
My blood a bubbling brew of ambition and potential,
Yet required to surpass insurmountable credentials,
Ignoring the marked symbols in newspapers they seek to brand on my forehead,
Subjective opinions of civility and idealism dropped on me like warheads,
Cryptic predictions of personality and fate,
You think I need a dice roll to determine if I'm straight?
Countless evaluations to rationalize the psyche and soul combined,
What makes their opinion more viable than mine?
I'm taking buoyant steps upon the swamp to reach my destination,
Swapping carnality for divinity to achieve the ultimate self-preservation,
Cremating my mortality I seek to ascend,
Past primitive understanding of a purpose I cannot comprehend,
This road we walk is coated with trip-wire and paved with scorching coals,
Watch out for those flaming hours in your 5-day forecast so find the nearest foxhole,
The burden on our shoulders has already been lifted so there's no reason for us to be aching,
We're on the path to eternal salvation why aren't we skipping?
So why don't you tag along with me on this self-realization odyssey,
I can't promise explosions or tentacle-headed aliens but I know it'll at least be interesting,
Just you, yourself, me and I,
The most dynamic duo to ever breach the sky.
My heart grieves for past warmth, rocking guilt back and forth
Like a cradled infant, deceased, and torn
I wailed inside and expressed what the babies could not,
Pierced so purposefully. . . their blood drizzled lightly upon the streets
Two gray kittens, side by side
One face molded into the warm body of the other
Lethal legacy
Unjust proclamation- a threat to heart sensation
This vessel of mine sunk long ago… and now,
With emotions compacted and learned, I merely nod
Before my eyes had laid upon such tragedy,
I had been suffering a loss I can no longer withhold,
And as it was so near, I see his death over and over, so clear
My best friend, lying still- half in filth, half in glory
My cries of grief, overtones to his excavating spirit
You do not belong here any longer, sweet black angel
Your soft, dreamy eyes, your lovable ears,
Replaced by unappreciated jeers
I hear them in the night as it had happened
Oblivious me, in deep sleep
Dreaming up hopes later shattered
My tears fell upon his black fur,
His keen green eyes now dead and lifeless
Feel the burn, yes feel the burn of loss, I heard him whisper
Because in this very moment, you are changing!!!
How I both cherish and hate this alteration!
How it has transformed a hopeful soul into saturated slivers of sadness
Repressing anger and fear to ensure good became of his innocence
Now it has led me to these two outcasts,
Caught by others in their cold dimensions
As much as I wish someone to suffer for their absence,
Alone, I agonize, again
Crying internally for the persecutors
This world both baffles me and excites me. Today, this world has brought me to my knees in sorrow and humility.
~Dedicated to Spy, my beloved black cat , and to the sweet stray kittens of no name found 2 days later...~
May 2013 - October 18 RIP
Swoop the Pterodactyl
Copyright Corinne Curcio July 29, 2008
I had a lot of Beanie Babies
When they were in style
Those little dust collectors
Always made me smile
But there’s a very special one
With whom I’ll never part
Reminding me of when I was young
And dreams sang in my heart
Swoop the Pterodactyl
Watches over me
From atop his aerie
He’s carefree
I thought I’d search for fossils
Travel to distant lands
Excavating dinosaurs
Is what I’d always planned
But life had other ideas
Or maybe it was me
Why try to reach beyond my grasp
For what can never be?
Swoop the Pterodactyl
Watches over me
From atop his aerie
He’s carefree
The grownup is in charge now
But sometimes the child escapes
I sit astride his back
Flying over Cretaceous landscapes
And we glide…. we glide
When I see him on my shelf
I feel a little ache
Perhaps burying my dreams
Was a very big mistake
Can I dig them up again?
A paleontologist at last?
But do I really want to
Start sifting through the past?
Swoop the Pterodactyl
Watches over me
From atop his aerie
He’s carefree
And we glide, we glide....
This is actually a song