Best Grates Poems
With wings of golden starlight your spirits flare
Each woman burst forth a steadfast astral pyre
Your valiant souls are / defying / confining
the tethered snare
Like distant suns that are piercing the boundless mire
With hearts unyielding you are shatter iron grates
Your unshackled wings where shadows once confined
And in your touch,
love's caresses, gentle graces
A serenade of voices, together
softly intertwined.
Through time's grand halls your histories reside
Your footprints pressing...
on ever-shifting sands
With every single verse
a truth you cannot hide
For you mend the world with...
steady guiding hands
O gracious women, blessed with beauty /
fierce and bold.
In every realm
your being we cherish
and behold.
-----
“No matter how tired you are, no matter how physically exhausting this work may be, it's beautiful to bring a smile into someone's life, to care for someone in need. What greater joy can there be?” Mother Teresa
"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will." - Charlotte Brontë
A dedication to Eileen Ghali
for her prolific production of
inspiring work
Willow Tree = Keyboard
And that’s your only clue
Hurricane Eileen - The Storm
As darkness drew nearer
Light falling to drearer
I knew, the night was a foul
The windows were slashed
By her white lightening blast
Down the chimney old windy did howl
By her orchestrates
He rattles the grates
Appears round each gap in the door
Then in comes her rain
Through cracked window pain
As I witness her latest downpour
How the storm fascinates
With the show she creates
And I sit here and watch her for free
Down on the plain
Taking the strain
She batters the gnarled willow tree
Great thunder clouds form
In the head of the storm
And magic arrives in her sky
Come rivers of rain
With nowhere to drain
The water, a flood, rises high
Then happens a lull
To recharge to the full
Takes time out to contemplate
To be cruel or be kind
She rampages her mind
And comes back, at double the rate
With a boom and a crack
Bursts silver from black
A crescendo of noise fills the ear
And the gnarled willow tree
Writhes in ecstasy
By the pulse of her wild atmosphere
Mixed shadows are cast
By her white lightening blast
Her soul, for a while, exposed
For a moment in time
All is in rhyme
Till her story she chooses to close
As her elements soar
They’re at large with a roar
For hours they’ll dance and they’ll play
Blows the hurricane
Driving her reign
Till had, fulfilment of stay
With her forces unleashed
Her passions released
The storm passes over to light
Once more she has shown
By the tantrum she’s sown
Her strength… her power… her MIGHT.
**Dedicated to those who preceded us and gave their blood, sweat and tears, so we can have the luxuries they could not**
The wind whispers, the wind whispers ----
the wind spreads her wings,
so all can sing her lonesome tune;
An old wind blows, older names gust
and whirl and chime,
remind those unfinished pacts of days gone by,
plea they deep in the night
when the arbor grates the house...
The withered barn is grey to dark
and the yard chasing with ghosts;
whisper in wind of forgotten oaths,
to freedom in day when sun is high,
justice takes pleasure even in shadowed realms,
even the gales cease their roar and great wars die
and the end shall end anew;
What in the wind, with tethered and sleepy heads,
do they ask, do they plead
and have us do?
Furious wind from the north hisses louder,
banging against the gaped mouth of a sky, drenched…
Haggard, the night wheezes with quack
of birds waylaid; a time of unruly rainfall
crashing once more: and the moon grows bald,
groaning a jumble of cracked acoustics:
On and on, the roar of sleet
pierces through lush trees
in a noise that grates far into the dark horizon,
an energy fierce like a woman scorned.
How she blares a war amidst a company of men,
flowers, and all in one driven ride
that her wild thrill rasps zooms ---
until on ninth hour
a slow-motion of rhythm flows,
while she pauses to croon a mellow tune
as if... in final taps of a wail,
nothing ever happened.
For Shadow Hamilton:The Noise Contest
Written 3/9/2017
Pigtails loosen yet messed,
twisted by pliant fingertips
of evening’s devilry…
tracing her budding breasts,
embers gleam from a lamplight, dim…
his jerked breathing quickens to rake
this young, tender flesh---
from pink , blood red, to pale yellow... despicable!
Invading her territory,
the blister of muffled silence
grates adolescent wails,yet…
crazed feasting of desire remains.
She quivers under a toppled quilt
brushed in wounded cotton...despicable!
And while darkness slides on metal frame,
he riles, riles with abandon,
grinning under a sinister moon
arsenic as the sweat of male hunger
to ravage a girlish body... trembling, trembling
while her cupped mouth stutters,
‘Please step-dad, no!’
‘Hush…dear baby, I am your angel,
guarding you from evil wolves..despicable!
Quietly, he pins the knob of conquest
until the frail child's porcelain doll
splatters on the floor, and then…
.............
Re-Posted /1/2017
Contest: Let's Talk About It
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
When pebbles knead the holes in my shoes
These torn eyes writhe from my orphan blues,
A lost soul quivering in the cold...
I feel alone, a birth date untold
No parents cupping my sullen face;
While time grates in this runaway place.
They say that I was darn negated,
Like a package, somehow, quite hated
Thrown quickly in an old garbage truck..
But why, why, did I run out of luck?
Oh time, I no longer wish to mourn;
To be nestled and family- born…
Still, nights cut pain; my wishes decay
In foster homes where I briefly stay.
But rags comfort me,” kid, you’ll be fine,
When adoption brings love’s true sunshine!”
-------------------
Dated 11/6/2015
For the Contest, Trashed #4,
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Written by: nette onclaud
Subtle, tingling, blissful caress
Wholeness of being, free from stress
Essence of presence celebrates
Each node within, Cupid’s address
Magnetic heat, pheromones grates
To music of spheres, soul gyrates
Bliss elixir suffuses form
Soma nectar drips through love’s straits
Mists divine are both cool and warm
Magical is, this benign storm
The false drops away, truth is known
Rapture unbound, is the new norm
Bliss and wisdom, that’s ours to own
Borne of love and light, is home grown
Within our heart, is God’s heaven
Yet each must enter there alone
05-September-2022
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
A streaming particle of matter flowing in the
Mystical elemental current of my own existence,
Untethered I’ve cut the silvery threads of the
Timeless, a creature of thoughts abandonment.
A unique butterfly of distinction, flying amongst
The light waves of illusion spreading my wings
Of clarity, touching the stars in gentle graces
Movement.
In flights liberation climbing levels of enchantment,
A swaying anomaly tossed, passed between earth
And sky, a castaways silhouette lingering afloat the
Breeze of sensuality, with the heightened senses
Of pleasure ultimate recklessness, I’m at liberties
Jurisdiction beyond the touch of man.
I’ve joined the flocks of the enlightened ones,
Moths drawn to the dreaming flame, that burns
With fuel of inspirational grace.
Rippling wings transcending, behold the marvel
Of lunar beings, evolving, rising beyond the
Embankment of physical resistance,
Translucent fluttering monarchs brushing
Against the gates of God’s kingdom on high.
Flying insects of humanity, buzzing in a whispering
Chorus ushering in lyrical verses praise,
Announcing the arrival of these ascended.
Reaching through the vaulted grates of heaven,
The lord’s angel reaches out to touch these mortal
Wings of inspiration, and harken to listen, as
The Soft music loaf’s upwards, flooding the floors
Of this golden divide.
At twilights intrinsic hour of contemplation these
Dreaming beings of enlightenment drift as floating
Confetti ever lightly descending, cascading into
Their mortal fleshes vessels beneath, leaving the
Realm behind, but oh what visions of inspiration
Have these butterflies of remembrance relate,
In poetic excellence, cannot be captured
Within the nets of mankind.
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Resurrections lone fallen spiritual being, kneeling within the darkness of mine
Own tormented soul, broken, fractured at fetters ivory appendages, a flightless
Angelic Dark winged angel standing alone, weeping in the nights blackened clouds of utter blindness, a disarmed shield maiden of heavens grace!
Seeking the lightning storms final thrust of thunders rapture, my burnt scorched
Feathers descend cascading downwards, as melting leaves captured in the
Autumn winds of betrayals flame of the sinful heart, left unsheathed!
Virtue’s innocence lies slain in the battlefield of mercy’s shamed, shattered
Is the core of faith’s fragile child, lost amongst the hailing hurricane,
Battered and bruised, the white dove soars beyond clarity’s grasp!
Biting tears clash against the bare exposed flesh, stinging with malice’s
Hatred, as the face of God shuns this black fleeced lamb, whom broke
The vows promise, and interfered in the world of man!
Banished daughter of the light, unable to capture the winds of flight,
Transcendences none descendant trapped by the loving spirit
Willing to help the mortal being, begging for mercy’s compliance!
Yet shadowed by the dark illusions of the hastening storm of
Ignorance, she shed forgiveness tears on behalf of the unworthy,
For in the night humanities brethren turn away from the hungry,
Homeless, and the lost children that huddle within the darkness!
Thin are the clouds separation, as the storms rage begins to abate
Gods anger grows to the point of understandings loving, the grates
Of heaven casts shafts of grace, weakened by the hailing wake,
The lamb is unable to move amongst the silences eye of the hurricane!
Ever gently is lowered the cradle, the rocking crib of the healing
Miracle set at the flash points ushering of forgiveness, for the Shepard
Has reclaimed that which was lost!
In chorus spiritual assembly a small figure sings with heights
Reverence’s praise, and the master of the divine smiles
Upon this child of light, for her voice shines above all others,
For she is the fallen, now arisen with the wings
Of the outcastes singed!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
When evening’s bass tone whips a refrain
Strummed by an old man in our country yard;
A most haunting string--movement dims the air
Reminiscent of my young, bygone days.
His fiddle plucks through my hidden places
Where the touch wails speak through acoustic waves
Dragging notes from torn memories’ past
While first love grates … as I think of blackbirds.
Brian's Choice 7 for Brian Strand
The morning mists falling from Snapdragon eyes
Standing on high peaks viewing the verve of diversity
Starlit nights viewing the galactic milieu painted above
The promise once made now viewed after the rainstorm…
In these moments I see the Almighty
The bellow of anguish in the tears of the children
A racking widow held up as she faces her spouse’s sepulcher
Victims calling to God in the smoldering ruins of a battle
Helpless and lost ones asleep on heating grates in December...
In these moments suffering is all too real
Arizona’s painted desert at the moment of dusk’s zenith
The Atlantics glass rolling waves on the shores of Cape Ann
My daughters absolute trust as she sleeps upon my chest
The Rocky Mountain winds hushing the Ponderosa Pines…
In these moments I sense true peace
When “I Love You” first looked at me with untainted eyes
The moment I heard my child’s voice for the first time
That first springtime morning awakened by soft Popinjay rhythm
The roar of the crowd during a spring training game…
In these moments I find the Joy of living
Searching my life I put these puzzle pieces together…
Only to find these moments define the man I’ve become
I serenade my wife each night
With songs both old and new
To show how much I love her
It just seems the thing to do
But she is not enamoured
To hear my dulcet tones
She says it's just annoying
And it grates upon her bones
She says “just you keep quiet,
And I'll tell you this for free
If you don't stop your racket
You'll get nothing for your tea”
dry white snow rasps the asphalt
attempting to reclaim the purity
of a metropolitan morning
coating the concrete pillars
brushing with tender touches
the grates and allies
dusting the bottom lands
of bordering belted swamps
with leggy aplomb
the icy shavings take flight
on the whoosh of winter
in hushed whispers they move on
First Published by The Tishman Review January 2015
At first, only a few droplets
fall from the clouds to quench the heat.
And like drips of perspiration:
splashes start to freckle the street.
What begins as a light sprinkle:
morphs into a raging downpour.
And water pools at drainage grates,
flooded sewers: can take no more.
Lightning bolts splinter charcoal skies,
as thunderclaps, make the earth quake.
And the wind howls like a banshee:
garbage cans, toppling in its wake.
City roads, with cement sidewalks,
cannot function as a blotter.
And islands begin to appear:
awash in a flood of water.
As the receding storm passes,
raindrops dwindle to just a few.
And when the wind starts to calm down,
scattered clouds reveal skies of blue.
As breaths sink into the pool of dim nights
The wicker of angst grates more than I can bear,
More a fading hope lost in pathways, cracked
By utter alienation from riddled thorns…
Yet, an inner candle banishes doubt,
A lucent halo gleaming ever so near
Though it knows not my name, it knows who I am,
It guides a taper of faith with lit intuitions made,
Until peace glows in my soul , telling me I am home.
----------------------
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
Quote Me Rumi Contest of Silent One
12/3/2015