Best Formation Poems
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I walked through the woods this morning, nary an animal crossing my path. The only sounds I heard were birds chirping, small animals collecting nuts, and my feet as they gently landed on autumn’s leaves and the decaying pine straws.
I rounded the bend and paused just in time to witness the sun’s gradual ascent into the enormous Texas sky. I closed my eyes and stood perfectly still letting the silence envelop me. In the distance I heard them, geese honking. The blue air above me was filled with a skein of wild geese flying in V-formation.
They glided together effortlessly through the sky, homeward bound for the season. I stood in awe watching them noticing the geese had a pride about them, as if they were aware of their own magnificence.
fall equinox brings
skein of geese flying above
interrupts silence
wild geese, sunlit sky
V-formation heading south
seasonal journey
boldly unimpressed
by opinions, fears, and doubts
geese trust the Knowing
The joy of soaring
being one with the clouds
floating in and out
between the blue and white
closer to something
that is indescribable
unless you experience it for yourself
that day the air show had all
the elements of a dream come true
we flew by so fast
and yet
thousands saw and were in awe
happy faces of children and adults alike
so we headed home
we took to flight again
everybody excited
doing what we love to do...
No one saw it coming
a whole lot of miasma
visibility almost none
two planes no longer in the air
lost communication
the search is on -
a day goes by, no word
tragic reality becomes apparent
both planes went down -
A final salute at our memorial
the missing man formation
our final symbolic flight
with our loved ones looking on...
*Check about this poem section
to see what inspired this write*
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Watching the leader through my destroyer’s, Big Eyes
Waiting for signal to execute maneuver
The flashing light comes. “Execute!” my talker cries.
The bridge responds, slowing speed and shifting course
Twenty ships simultaneously make course east
As headings steady, I await the next command
The formation’s wakes clawing the sea like a beast
Another light, I shout the leader’s next demand
These types of close maneuverings, are tricky things
One wrong signal could result in a collision
I rub my eyes, below the engine order rings
Another signal and we dance in precision
Maintaining the columns, we plow, south, south east
All anticipating our next liberty feast
© Copyrights G. Jones 2008
Author notes
Another in my Sailor Sonnet Series.
The Washer Woman in Canyonlands
An old woman laments
of her daily chores,
the stinging lye soap
and a biting washboard.
With knuckles bleeding
into the day’s dirty water,
she sighs and prays
for a better tomorrow.
A deluxe abandoned soul well formed
Coalesced inside the pterodactyl flight
With warmth on primal wing still soars
Well above volcanic ash accumulated
Storms felt it first
Before the past could settle in the snow
Could know the cold
Stone age man observes the power
Looking up, learns how to fly
To escalate the day
Inhibited by nothing
In that moment God knew what to do
It is never too late to fill in empty space
In a breath of future wildly disguised
Souls form far reaching in the sky
Get lost sometimes inside creation
Grow heavier than the mind can reason
Something we don't need to understand
Freedom is a complex state to capture in words. So much, that when asked as a young man in a foreign country, how it might feel, I never could describe it. When you know wonderful family life, caring neighbourliness you take for granted, the most beautiful girl in your limited world who loves you without reservation, how can this not feel like freedom?
And yet you know, when you encounter the divide of race, that your soul sees another, unlike it. And before a heart-wrenching word is said, you know to expect it, and something deep inside wants to die.
He who has passed on, in his wisdom, would have called it all angles in a swan formation, a distraction from the essence of humanity and its fallibility. He would have said that the power that engenders the need to express such revolt, is like a spectral effigy seeping through imaginary vents. It exists in the mind of a deprived soul, seeking its own freedom from deceit.
A mind that grows from its own hard-won freedom, however hard to describe, does in time conquer all fears. Fears of knowing, that inside you hurt when those you know do, that it is not a simple task to carry the burden of truth that perhaps sometimes you’re privileged to know, that whatever it all means, the day shall come when it shall all grow out of piles of spiritual litter, and reform, to ignite another spark…the human spirit.
Some days, you relegate the expression of such intimacy, to a special day. But it never comes. Until the rain-soaked puddles mark the spots where tears were shed, and the rain fell, in equal measure. And then you had to say goodbye to the one symbol that meant that freedom was possible, even when you still could not describe it.
When the world cries in tandem, he may not live, but he will never leave.
Dawn has cracked the horizon
With fiery red open greeting
Invites birds fly sky emblazon
With colors to start day moving
The crows are delighted to catch
Gentle air currents and swiftly glide
Seeking a grounded spot to snatch
A delicate meal __ grubs that hide
As they fly low in formation
A smiley face granted to see
They start to entertain me
Before place sentinel in tree
I engaged her in a passionate Tango
While I checked her bank account
Almost suffered from a seizure
At the vast disclosed amount
So I wined her and i dined her
And I set out to seduce
And to my amazement
I thought she’d fallen for my ruse.
We waltzed and we quickstepped
Around the ballroom floor
Until I suddenly realised
I couldn’t dance anymore
Then, she enrolled me, controlled me
And with such consummate skill
She guided me, and she plied me
Until I complied with her will.
Such an expert choreographer
As I soon learnt to my cost
And by the Last Waltz accepted
I’d indisputably lost
It’s a marriage of great passion
And we regularly grab the chance
To celebrate our union
In the intimacy of the dance.
Now we Tango and we Foxtrot
Through a carefree type of life
I’m the epitome of contentment
Thanks to my rich and loving wife.
They say we’re a handsome couple
As we welcome and explore
The pleasures of our existence
On life’s exciting ballroom floor.
Honesty blankets the sour taste left
That positions itself between conscience
To the right of promise beside honor
Behind targets farther from wonder and grace
Closer to our faith we fail to act on.
Remembering that we are dust...
A sour taste face frowns like what we meant
But our meaning sits like our faith is false
Poured in goes the sauce affecting our need
Damaging our seed causing his distrust
We stay in lines switched up lacking patience.
Remembering that we are dust...
Palming the land with unwashed hands waist deep
In a spine filled creek emerging with hope
Enduring hates grope our thirst can be cured
Our thought will be pure our backs set straight
By wonder and grace by means of his will.
For he well knows how we are formed...
Murmurations.
.
As thickening dusk
Subdues the tiring day
Flocks of starlings rest
Trilling and chattering in array
Upon tendril branches of trees
High up in the towering eves
As numbers increase
In readiness
.
Suddenly they alight as one
The tress now bare as the eves
Of their feather laden leaves
And one of the most spectacular
And phenomenal sights of creation
Awe inspiring and fascinating has begun
.
A shifting cloud of wing and feather
In syncretization in formation
Put on a magnificent air display
That has mystified the observer
Since the dawn of time
And took their breath away
.
Swooping sweeping darting cloud across
The expanse of sky
An elaborate dance of in perfect formation
And a change of direction in an instant they fly
Athletic acrobatic nubile and agile
That few words can explain or testify
.
The acrobatics now over
The sky differs once more
Descend to the trees towering eves
To rest and to roost
Like littered feathered leaves.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
geese in formation
heading south
trumpets blaring
AP: 1st place 2021
Have you seen the man whom my soul loves
does spring boundless like the antelopes afield
whose consumations thus give to herds their yield
like lightly soars in thermals flocks of doves
The strength of pillars in the sinews of his limbs
so skillfully lifts the music of his hands
gathers those who so listen from their stands
and bring pleasures where he whose talents spends
I had searched the mountainous valley's long ago
to find a soul whose depth as rich as he
so many I had scanned though did not see
the like of him in any people I did know
Thus to my chambers I would him chance
but he would have to leave the fields flocks
exclusive is the devotion behind doors locks
or partake the tables spread in harlots dance
To waltz like winged bird upon the wind
whose unseen direction comes from whence
and depth of feelings that make not sense
didst this emotion upon mine heart descend
Tis now two years I have you letters sent
to give mine thoughts you by song I sing
that you might understand like bird on wing
the nature of the truth in word now lent
From the depths of what is true these words now formed
whose intent to be like rain upon the fields of grass
that might turn attention to so unbeautious of lass
whose God has these feelings within adorned
So has long in word have emptied out her soul
that he might read and see what is her past
so fashion to his reason and understanding cast
thus the secret person within might come to know
Could he not know that every word was given voice
to paint a picture of what is of Love and True
a gift wrapped like music in a tonal hue
that he might clearly see and make a choice
Thus seen like wisps of clouds in boundless sky
whose movements formed by mists and winds
invisible from where all courses begot sends
and by word have fully fashioned what is I
Source : Song of Solomon
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Let some pack thirteen, a dozen to claim,
A sonneteer comes with choicest fourteen
Sweet lines to celebrate sonnet’s fine frame,
That the magic marvels, stays ever green.
And all fourteen fertilize, fully hatch
As gorgeous birds priming wings as to fly
In time, together still in a single batch,
Or in varied formations in vast sky.
The eight in front should propose a theme if,
The six that follow form the counterpoint,
Resolving thence – sonnet's true leitmotif,
A Volta, taking a turn to anoint,
The last two-- oft twain wings of a couplet,
Sum up the song, what a chiselled nugget!
08.24.2020
in formation
southbound geese
~ racing their shadows
AP: 2nd place 2022
SHE ASKED
HE ANSWERED
THEY SANG
PEOPLE DANCED
THEY WERE HAPPY
DANCING TOGETHER
EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE
SHE'D STOP TO GLANCE
WHEN THEY CHANGED THE RHYTHMN
UPGRADED TO A RHYTHIMNIC THUMP
SHE GRABBED HIS HAND
AND CAME-OUT IN FRONT
WE DIDN'T NOTICE
UNTIL HE JESTURED
HIS PANT-LEG HAD TORN
RUINING THEIR BESTURE
POINT:ZERO:TWO:FIVE..... ..................................................................
BASS.................POINT:ZERO:TWO:FIVE.....tremble
INSPIRE TRUST ITHROUGH LEADERSHIP, PROGRESSION AND INDEPENDENACE, MARGIN'S ADD VALUE
WHERE THE GAIN IS IN TRUSTED THROUGH THE LEVEL OF WORKMENSHIP.
WHITECOLLAR.....BLUECOLLAR....GREENCOLLARED MEN
SING AND DANCE WHILE THEIR LADIES REHERST THE WORDS
WHEN THEY GAVE ORDER TO WHAT WOULD HAPPEN, THEY FELL IN LINE AND DID WHAT THE CONDUCTER TOLD THEM TO DO.SWEET SOUNDS AND MELLOW MUSIC. WHAT A NIGHT FOR LOVERS, WHAT A NIGHT TO BE TOGETHER. SWEET SOUNDS, SWEET: SWEET SOUNDS !