Best Grayness Poems
A visitor—
icicle fingers
tapping on my windows' pain—
white blanket in tow
Hurting enough, I paid him no mind
so he kept tap, tap, tapping
‘til cobweb-like cracks appeared:
a final, gentle tap
shatters my windows
My rainbow world
now smothered, pallid,
forced into boredom and slumber,
sunlight chased away
and I am never the same again…
Soul gets plunged deep in the cold
blinded by whiteness, numbed with simplicity
there is an eerie stillness,
almost as if no one dared to breathe,
even the barren trees refused to quiver
brittle dendrites seem to claw the sky
futile though, for they are frozen,
grasping at nothingness,
clouds stubborn and stoic,
brooding in silent grayness
…and then from within, a filigreed whisper escapes
palpable and brave~
it weaves its way through the branches,
gathering strength wherever it went
it beckons to the sky, which in turn
gives in and celebrates ~
letting dainty confetti fall
white, yet amazingly graceful
each flake falls softly on the ground—
a fashionable brocade
trees softly sway now,
and dance to a winter song
the sky weeps with happiness
for seeing a glimpse of life—
diamond teardrops
they catch a bit of evasive sunlight,
of which I thought I’ve lost
and give birth to miniature rainbows…
all this time, Sunlight was there
I just
never knew
how to
catch
it.
an audio of me reciting this poem
http://www.4shared.com/music/Q_tqp2LEba/suncatcher.html?#
Words are merely thoughts to keep flowers company;
Pictures you can hang in your hall.
But the faces of these blossoms,
Slightly jealous of your smile,
See well past the obstacles you have stored there.
There is tenderness in their contemplation of the grayness in your eyes.
And they mutter amidst the clutter,
'tis not the speed that makes the journey, but the direction that you choose’.
Whilst welcoming the warmth from your hands as you arrange them.
I watched a while on a summer's day,
Above the field in which I lay:
The clouds take form and assume their place,
And in one I saw a face.
A face obscure and yet familiar.
What name that face? Twas sweet Delia!
For one brief moment I saw her peer;
I felt a subtle grayness near.
That shade of gray between dream and sleep,
When thoughts we think, but do not keep.
I watched a while and in conscious thought,
The elusive dream at last I caught.
Winter, winter how we feel your icy touch
The earth is now under your freezing clutch
What falls in our ears is the howl of gales from far
The night sky, cast in grayness devoid of a single star
In the dawn, nowhere can one spot the buzzing bees
Icicles hang from boughs of leafless trees
Birds sit with drooping wings in their woody nests
Within eye shot, no trace of any roaming beasts
Trees stand sleeping in the biting cold
The sun has lost its bright sheen of gold
From nowhere comes the song of a single bird
On the slopes, one cannot sight the grazing herd
Roof tops are crusted with flakes of snow
That the sun with sharp beams alone can thaw
Piles of snow lie heaped on the barren ground
And the entire Earth lies in a sea of ice drowned
Busy streets and pavements are now lying bare
People stay indoors. To be out they hardly dare
The rodents have gone into hibernation in their ditch
And life altogether has gone out of pitch
In the smiting chill of a dreadful wintry night
When through every fiber n’ nerve, is the cold bite
How we like to sit cocooned beside the hearth
Sipping a cup of steaming tea in rising mirth
In such quiet hours, one can peruse into the pages of tomes
That will transport one to enchanting magical zones
Or engage in a hearty chat with friends and family
Thus turning even the bleakest hours sweet and lively
Placed First
A Strand (1056) Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Brian Strand
As the early sun rises casting
Magenta upon the clouds
My heart's cherished enterprise
Is to feel the moment and be proud
The roosters crow down in the vale
Cindy meows close at hand
A grayness has settled 'pon the sky
Please don't in my heart land
Songbirds sing a soft sweet tune
They're still close and in demand
Do they know that cooler air is near?
Does God's plan they understand?
They don't worry nor do they fret
Each day there are bugs to fill
An empty stomach doesn't lack
Mankind has other needs so real
Mankind needs a relationship
Out of this world's busy life
A spiritual and emotional filling
One not based on human strife
The sun shines once again casting its
Illumination upon
Those dark clouds fluffy charcoal design
Wait, release raindrops, move on
As the heat subsided
A cool grayness crept in
Exhausted shadows slept
Limp leaves exhaled hope
Open windows inhaled it
The days come
Speed bumps
On unchartered roads
The hum of life
Easing a sunrise
Into grayness
A gauntlet dropped
Out of sight
The night follows
A cold moon
Admiring itself
In an idle pond
Life’s hum
Lurking in darkness
Awaiting sunrise
Laying down kindergarten knowledge for all too see
Fish they have fins, and birds they have wings
Standing against the crowd, boasting banners of equality
Daring to discern the difference of things!
You plant a seed into an egg
and lo and behold something grows!
A man is a man,
a woman is a woman.
And they call me a bigot for claiming so.
(our self esteem so fragile
a gentle breeze and were shattered)
Unisex Toilets and Male Pronoun Hysteria
'him' and 'he' sending shivers down our spines
our profound differences carelessly intertwined
Servants to non-overlapping magisteria:
God is Love and God Was Never Real
Love is Love as well as Carnal Appeal
Muddied into grayness,
neither this nor that.
We threw away it's importance
at the drop of a hat.
It's a cause for celebration
when a girl becomes a wife.
Not cause for demonization
of a "stereotypical" life.
Christ is the Head
and the Man is runner up.
Not chauvinism,
but Scripture's order of love.
Let us not degrade ourselves
by boasting sameness
lest we forget the gifts we're given.
But be you in the Truth
and there is no difference.
IT'S NOT US VS. THEM!
But God searching Men
Women, Children.
Our hearts are not hidden
from his wisdom.
NOTE: I never wrote about this topic before... but it's been on my mind lately. I know in this day 'n' age I'll probably be scorned for writing such a piece, but let me conclude with a quote from Voltaire:
I do not agree with what you have to say,
but I'll defend to the death your right to say it.
and there is charm in the grayness
of stardust, like a meditation of fragile
incantations of a month near passing:
low fire. warm joy. cozy beds.
and so, as the year furrows and begins
to shred its own purple leaves, we sip
late autumn's honey that brought us
to a carousel of both regret
and answered promises.
somehow, night’s dreams are closing, but
we reach them through love’ s kohled ember.
...................
For Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Open Poetry Contest
11/29/2015
~use of low caps is intentional
The Gray Queen
She sleeps in between
Dreams and awakening
She is always there
In the early morning light
In the deep darkness of night
She won’t cede her reign
Over the grayness which she rules
The grayness of despair and depression
She never lets you sleep
And keeps happiness from your door
She is the queen of the doldrums
She never smiles
And never leaves her chambers
That is drawn upon your heart and soul
She is the Gray Queen
And there is nothing but pain in her heart
Sleepless nights and dreadful mornings
Are her dominion
To rule your life with sidewalks
And rainy days
The gray mist is her dust
And the cold handle of a handgun
Her wand
She is with me all the time now
Like a ghost I walk hand-in-hand with her
Knowing there will be but one end
For the Gray Queen cannot be trumped.
There is grayness in this world
Some place in between
It’s like dark matter
You can’t see it
But you damn sure feel it
It’s the sadness of knowing you will
Lose everything
Nothing is worth keeping
Perhaps gray will be my favorite color
Then I won’t have to decide
There will be no black and white in my life
Just indifference
Will that make me a bad person?
Weak without a purpose
A minion of the powerful
Another gray life in a long line of gray lives?
Did I give up?
Did I say I gave up?
Or did I say I just don’t give a damn?
It’s not for me to say.
It’s just that so many things have been traveling
For so long with no destination
Only to end up somewhere they belonged
But never intended to be
You see if you flip a coin
You can see your life
And if you call it in the air
When it lands
The traveling hands of time will have been invoked
And you will have gained or lost everything
Night is coming
Even though it already looks and feels of night
It isn't here yet
Gray veil covers the sky
Rain plays its sad tune
But pink flowers contrast green on Japanese Magnolia
Night is coming
Color blind person would not be able to see
The green leaves that are in contrast to the pink
Nor could they see the contrast between the white and green on the Bradford Pear
Night is coming
Rain increases it rhythm, the grayness in the forest deepens
A heaviness weighs upon my body making it uncomfortable to breath
The rain washes the pollen away for right now
Night is coming
Colorblindness would be a disadvantage for a person in many ways
Some of the beauty of spring would be lost
But they would probably notice shape and design more than someone who sees color
Night is coming
When the darkness covers over me then I won't be able to see how to write
This would be a great disadvantage in accomplishing finishing this work
The yellow green or banana yellow yard light has come on it light radiates outward
In the distance a very large tree reaches upward skeletal but has few spring green
tiny leaves that contrast the gray sky.
If I were color blind I would not see that.
Spring pushes ground
to cherished green patches
in sun (splattered)
that breaks the grayness
that winter shows
in its shuttered shops of cold
Daffodils ambush sight
with a snappy smirk of yellow
each with six petals circling an inner crown
soulful flowers
harpooning sadness
like spring deflating winter woes
rumbling in guarded vision
Re-centering a search for comfort
in what breaks through April's reluctance
to find a spotlight worthy
like daffodils' benign seduction
showy trumpets, gush of swagger
in a golden pose of color
When our world returns to focus
unmasking
missing faces.
Poem revised May 23, 2021
THE SUM OF LIFE
The Sum Of life:
Between the earth and the
sunset is a Grey matter,
between your skull and your brain
is a Grey matter,
at times I feel like gray matter;
Everyone speaks and recognizes...
OZONE, or the black hole,
they speak of space,
time, and dimension...
But me, Grey matter
I am the most important matter,
the substance that form-fills,
conforms to any space it occupies.
I am always with you in many ways
I am omnipresent.
Who knows why I continue to shield you.
Sometimes I am mucus or gel-like,
I am despised on sight,
I am gray -matter...
I cause beauty to happen though.
I am not beautiful.
Unless you train your eyes
to see things differently,
see with an all-seeing eye.
You see my insides.
Did you know there's no life without me?
for I am the" embryonic sac”?
I may even be God; The Deliverer.
I am Grey matter, you turn up your nose at me,
shun, and ignore me; Slime I am.
Life-giving, lifesaving, Grey Matter.
Human beings you are full of me like it or not.
I may even be the God in you.
There's nothing wrong with grey,
Gray Matter saves "Hallelujah".
Gray matter, I want to thank you right now,
I praise you right now I never recognized you
but know my 3rd eye is open right now.
Thank you, Grey Matter,
for your slime producing snails,
research revealing cures in the
Grey Matter of their slime, worthy is thy gel...
"Hallelujah" Gray Matter... Gray Matter:
The only matter that matters.
The fact of the matter is
without you, there would be no matter.
The only matter that matters is Gray Matter;
No matter what's' the matter,
for any matter, no matter what.
I will always remember what, matter, matters.
Blood is red, and we see it occasionally,
some even worship it;
It is good to see blood every now and then
because we know it sustains.
Like the sunsets on the seashore,
the unsettling dust of the "Grey" the great gray,
the greatness of grayness is performing.
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2016
In the icy white living mists, in the grayness
Rising up around the olden mossy stones
I hear them calling through the smudging grey veils
That separate this world of unexplainable sadness
From the unknowable, from the unknown
They say the raven, wisest of the birds,
A spirit animal, the shaman’s own,
Renewal, divination, and introspection
Passes into the eternal, there she finds a second home
Finds a glowing light even in this eternal darkness
Standing in the inky blackness she fends off the icy fear
Oh raven,
Raven return from the mists--stay clear, return here
Pale woman in black, in human or silken ghostly form
In whatever shape you chose, a change of consciousness,
To face the cavern's darkness then renewal, to be reborn
Amidst this starless somber world, you call a second home
Introspection and connection -- Both to the newborn
And to the crone.
Among the Dead Contest
Written by Linda Milgate
contest by Rambling Poet