Best Geysers Poems
Atacama, Eden of winds,
flower of abandoned rocks and of sapleter,
homestead of flamingoes and geysers,
and above all ,
below an azure sky,
mountains are carrying on their tops
ice of the past.
Old villages tell us their stories,
Toconce, Toconao, Chiu-Chiu,
carry in their canons
life,
water from deep below
let flowers and vegetables grow.
Chiu-Chiu, oasis of the desert,
a green spot,
surrounded by fragments of history
with the colour of orange, red and brown,
embedded in fragile foam of salt and hope,
the history of the Atacama.
Still alive in their churches.
Fragments of an ancient culture
reflecting on the surface of Río Loa.
Like ants – far away,
dispersed in vibrant light
some Vicuñas are looking
for tranquility and forage.
The geysers of El Tatio
send their hot water into the cold and pure air.
How pacient the Atacama is with us,
slaves of modern times
with the desire for paradise
with the dual face of history and hope.
Salar de Atacama, show me your
cracked and wounded face,
your wrinkles of solitude.
Far in the distance the chain of volcanoes,
with towering Lincancabur,
and its shouldered knapsack of crystals and ice,
holding its splendour towards the sky
with the colours of lapis lazuli and light agate.
Toconao, the ruins of Quitor greet you,
dormant since ages
they narrate the history of the Inca,
of their last refuge and their last battle with
Pedro de Valdivia,
who came with his men
to break the bravery of Inca soldiers
with thunder and destruction.
The waterfalls of the hot spings of Puritama
shoot their water into the air with the colours of rainbows,
drawing delicate faces of life
on dry sand and charming stones.
The wind from the mountains carries songs,
flute music, ancient tunes,
stories of salt, gypsum and clay
to the Valle de la Luna,
to let it remain calm and unchanged
with its eyes filled with dust and stones
in the eternal canto of earth.
Atacama, heart of the North,
plant of wind
in the song of history,
you make the day sound
and rock to sleep the nights,
lonely between the arms of the mountains
and the Altiplano.
Breathless beauty shine bright tonight
my loving arms will hold you tight
no wind, no storm, no evil tide
will whisk you away from my side
I'll fly you to a land where eagles soar
where mountains climb from the shore
guide you to a meadow where nature plays
where geysers spout most every day
show you a place where the buffalo roam
where a simple man can make a home
we'll sail the sea under star filled skies
gazing deeply into those caramelized eyes
we'll have no worries, we'll be carefree
so take my hand and grow old with me
Traversing Iceland's National Park, a timeless place, where daylight fills each passing hour
and twilights ever brief. While volcanoes stand by sentinel, amidst dark lava fields.
Amazing geysers so magnificent, vent angry clouds of steam. Our route wlnds through
wild landscapes, laid down by ice and fire. Breathtaking scenes see lustrous skies, change
colour constantly. To marvel as wild reindeer herds migrate, in seeking pastures new.
We rest awhile to take respite beside a waterfall, avoiding midday's heat. And bathe in ice
cool waters crystalline, refreshing tired feet. The time soon comes for us to climb to high
plateaus,where vast glaciers with melting ice, cascade torrents down below. From this
vantage point we sight, the coastal waters where we aim to spend the night. Eventually, we
make our descent, crisscrossing mountain streams, and wend our way carefully, to stroll
through pastures green. Wild ponies graze as we pass by, observing us with watchful eye.
Unbroken and unbowed by man, a force of nature, likens them to this rugged land.
At journey's end we reach the fjord, this tranquil scene gains our accord for
camping wild. Waiting patiently until the midnight hour to take some photographs.
All panoramic landscapes, and taking centre stage this star, still shining bright our sun.
Waking early to the strident sounds of seabirds raucous calls. Our experience seems
so surreal, without the break of dawn. Today our destination will end our brief sojourn.
Eventfully we stand beside where continents divide, Eurasia and North America's
tectonic plates collide.
arctic midnight sun
shows creations finest hour
land of ice and fire
6/ 24/ 2018.
It was on a Sunday morning in the village where I stay
Out walking with my dog, I heard some pensioners say
Did you hear about the earthquake, it was somewhere in our State
No magnitude has ever been like it, it's impossible to relate
Quickly I headed home, to view this terrible news
Upon turning on the TV, I'm in horror at what my eyes now view
The awesome Golden Gate Bridge, against an azure bluey day
Lies broken, distorted and twisted, as if it's foundations had given way
The camera now focuses on the mainland, capturing plumes of choking black
Freeways lie twisted and contorted, trains running from their tracks
Gas lines spew throwers of flames, sirens resonate in blaring sound
What was level hours before, have dropped from it's original grounds
Many reporters are now on the scene, as they pan out across the blue
From the helicopter of CNN, Alcatraz disappears from their view
Slowly the island it sat on, as if by magic, now it has gone
Words are heard through the speakers, what the hells gone wrong
The daylight turns to black, a city lies in shreds
Memories of 1906, when three thousand plus were dead
All through the night, tremors came and went
Has history repeated itself, the San Andreas Serpent
I am awoken in the morning, having left the TV on
Panic stricken reporters screaming, most of San Francisco's gone
Where once stood a city, lie pillars of battered ruins
Deep gorges surround them, in bloodied scattered strewn
There's a break in the programme, it's from Yellowstone National Park
The land is starting to rise, incredible is the remark
Geysers that once flowed often, have receded in their shower
Are we about to witness, another of her powers
Back to the CNN studios, more footage of the morning
Towering inferno's in sickened tears, the clock, the warning
I fall to my knees in remembrance of the date
It's December the 21st, has earth met it's fate
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-17.php
romantic - haiku
steaming interlude
trembling geysers marking time
soft cloud at climax
3/3/2015
visual two
Most of the time hidden from sight
surrounded by densely thick mist
the island had evolved differently
it was a place of tranquillity
No human foot had ever stepped on it
coral white sands gleaned and sparkled
palm trees waved their stately branches
multi coloured parrots swung amidst the fronds
Their harsh but cheerful cries filled the air
below roamed mystical unicorns and even a phoenix
happily cavorting on emerald green plains
while busy monkeys chittered in the dense forests
Geysers shot scalding waters in high plumes
keeping the island at tropical heat
a natural barrier reef surrounding it
strange as soon as you crossed the reef
All signs of the fog disappeared
leaving the island in plain view
here there had never been a shot fired
the wild inhabitants knew no fear of man
Ever changing latitude and longitude
the island drifted from place to place
a paradise totally unspoilt by time or man
mariners whispered of its existence
Yet on no maps did it ever appear
wrapped safe in its shrouding mists
every century it would briefly appear
never emerging in the same place twice
As it floated the ocean currents
sometimes to the far bitterly cold north
then it would be briefly spotted in the east
the island kept its secrets safe from mankind
written 02/23/2014
contest Islands sponsor Anthony Slausen
Like the first dawning
dew drops
Like the fresh scents
of morning
Like cut grasses in
spring time
Like a flower
in new bloom
Your beauty enfolds me
Engulfs and abounds me
Completely unveils me
Makes my heart cry for more
Like the depths of your
valleys
Like the gushing of
geysers (hot springs)
Like the turn of the
ocean
Trickling streams
down the mountains
Like the mists upon
Snowdon
Gently rise
Gently fall
Guess not often
I tell you
Just how much
you mean to me
That my life
would be worthless
Without you to adore
Yes, I'm saying
I love you
And I hope you
are listening
For it seems like
a lifetime
To speak out
surface and soar
Like the eagle
flies on wing
Like the clouds
in the Heavens
Like trees
rustle above
My life trembles
with passion
Let me show
my adoration
My courtship and
fondness
My sweetest amore
in the heat of her
passion myself produced
geysers of life.
Blizzard, Blizzard Everywhere
Frozen branches scratch against the window.
Snow flakes flash like daggers through outside lights.
Frigid wind comes howling down the chimney.
Pine trees take on a wonderland delight.
Bare branch trees rocked down to their foundation.
Black sinewed roots hold fast in frozen ground.
Snow drifts pile against back doors and fences.
As more snow is falling, swirling all around.
The ocean is a pounding frothy mess
Colliding waves throw geysers in the air.
Dune fences cannot halt beach erosion.
Home owners look on helpless in despair.
Traffic lights shine garish through the whiteness
Consistent switch above deserted streets.
Heavy branches form a cozy arbor
In an attempt to stretch across and meet.
Commuter traffic ground down to a halt
School children still tucked safely in their beds
Thoughts of teachers, homework, boring lessons
Replaced with thoughts of downhill runs on sleds
Tropical Love
Colorful petals, huge tender soft leaves,
Intricate patterns, the type spiders weave.
Gentle breezes, smelling the ocean salt,
Embedded crystals where the surf may halt.
Bright colored finches flocking through the air,
Loud racket is heard from a hidden lair.
Rainforest splendor, how precious it sings,
Tropical colors on butterfly wings!
Georges blossoms in an Edenic bay,
Colorful orchids take my breath away.
Gigantic geysers spraying in the air,
Lava is flowing, too hot to be near.
My passionate love, as we stop to rest,
Relaxing in comfort against my chest.
© Bjørn O. Wastvedt, 2017
Nostrils of the earth--
geysers huffin' puffin' steam
and gushing water
Time froze solid over crystal ledges
Not withstanding planetary degrees of cold
Eroded ages in deep space remain
Below zero beyond the inner planets
A pure white landscape far away
Fixed in the void a world displaced
Through no fault of its own
Ice geysers spew forth from tectonic force
Debris escapes through thin atmospheres embrace
As the rings of Saturn part
No gravity to hold it back from endless dark
Sacred worlds, engineered by natures magic
Reminded of Earth's past without the people
Religion, caskets, cold graves and catacombs
Back on the home planet are gone or frozen
It seems so long ago
Brought in from the cold on dim candles glow
Before the age of matches lit the way
In the age of Renaissance, intelligence grew
With colorful flowers, warm hues and daring fragrances
Lifted enlightenment to bloom
Soon there would be rockets in the future
History holds nothing back not even floods
Love of exploration and science are not taboo
To build a future
Divine intervention fits in small crevasses
In hour glasses devoid of population
Sand can not keep up with time
Plenty of ice though fills in unknown zones
So many barren worlds stand out there alone
Planets move fast, stretch on vast distances
Far from the sun
Measure out frost in the cosmos cold and long
Engineering inventions will do
The way, the truth, the light
Replacing catacombs and candles
Hope springs eternal in the depth of space
Where lights flicker, ashamed to go out of place
Cosmic storms rain on with asteroids
Manufactured in the void
Where it is always cold
Ice Planet roams alone
Awaiting an encounter
The necktie wearers, and flag pin bearers
Combing arcane smiles
With not one word out of place
Colluded to recreate
Pearl harbor's reincarnate
History's wounds slashed by new swords
A mirror of quondam contempt
Semblance of peace sat behind a podium
Truths interstice fogged
Aridity of public sentiment
Proved a deserted nature of love
Thirsty for blood of whom we know not
Patriotism painted from a teleprompter
As cobblers cleaned and mended
The boots which young feet filled
Whilst scoundrels signed a death waiver
For workers to pluck cold limbs
And prepare the fields
Where black gold geysers
Diluted the red stained, hallowed ground
Commissioned were penny whistles
And morts moaning on cue
For quarry men slouched
In the dirt, for eternal rest
Before rhetoric trumped up heroism
The azure above was clear and crisp
Til mercurial darkness was summoned
On desolations blooming row
As pinwheels kept on spinning
At the home of those who plot
Another stratagem, another canvas
To splatter blood upon
My heart is inditing a poetic matter
My tongue is the workmanship of a divine potter
My glossa is the verbal-scripter of a meditative writer
These words are the instinctive outburst of my soul
Liken to the boiling fountains of geysers of shoal
It is so sad when the heart is cold with a good matter
It is even worse when it is warm with a bad matter
I speak of the things my tongue has composed concerning the groom and the bride
Words can never describe how we all feel today
Such feeling will be expressed in poetic words than kept, yet
With all the splendor of such a feeling, there is one most important thing
Love is the most important thing
What a word we use for an idea so immense and powerful
What a one syllable for a theme so divine and wonderful
Love is a mighty power, not just to propose with a Rose flower
It has altered the flow of history; it has solved every unsolved mystery
Love lightens every burden, and bears every hardship as though it were nothing
It renders all bitterness acceptable and delectable
Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing stronger
Nothing higher, nothing wider, nothing more like fire
Nothing to desire, nothing fuller or better in heaven or earth
For love is born of God, Love flies, runs and leaps for joy
It is free and unrestrained, love cannot be chain
Love ardently transcends all bounds, Love feels no burden
Takes no account of toil, and attempts things beyond its strength
Love is not fickle nor a tickle, nor is it formalities nor vanities
Love is a revelation, a desire deeper than civilization
Love’s dimensions is built on Christ foundation
To the glorious groom and beautiful bride
One elegant, one glorious, evoking admiring glances
Two loves passed down the long wide aisle
Between two lengthening rows of smiles
God has brought you together, not to be torn asunder
To be united in His love, with faith in God above
This is not a mere ceremony but a Holy Matrimony
Today as you begin the rest of your life
Together forever as husband and wife
May your dreams come true, with love and more
Adventures to have and the world to explore
As you celebrate your wedding this day
As you exchange your vows, I just want to say
These wedding memories will linger in our heart as a treasure
And seeing family, love ones and friends here is a pleasure
At the end of a warm night the ink has dried on the paper. All the hands have been shook and the kind gestures and manners are thrown out the window. The beast got what he wanted and the onlookers got quite the show. The cameras flashed and the ink on the printing presses were at maximum capacity. Printing, printing, printing, and yelling, yelling, yelling,..."Get your news here! It's the most exciting edition ever!" This will be what it's like when the Peace Accord is signed. Everything will look so perfectly done as the New World Order has all their proverbial ducks in a row. What will happen once the ink dries on the papers?
Only heaven knows.
The earth will shake and the masses will tremble. The oceans will roar and the nations who tied the knot will quickly realize what has happened. They just betrayed their God. They just betrayed their Creator. The ground will jostle and turn. Even geysers will spew hatred over the deal. It wasn't what the nations thought as they were all taken for a cruel joke. What is a peace treaty without love in the middle? What is a peace accord without heaven's golden seal?
The sixth seal of John the Revelator's great vision is almost ready to be opened. The Lord Jesus Christ will be mounted on His white horse galloping throughout the heavens as He prepares to rescue His Bride. It will be the grandest wedding of all time as the earth churns in disgust. Earthquakes, tsunamis, wars on the brink, and all the while the Bride prepares to meet her King! The aftermath of the sixth seal is soon to be revealed. Be ready to meet the aftermath or be ready experience a bloodbath from the betrayal of heaven.
If you are washed in the blood of the Lamb you have nothing to worry about. Be ready to exit center stage as your Groom is on His way. The aftermath of the sixth seal is soon to unfold.
gwendolen rix
6-20-15