Best Greyed Poems
The sky is a Luciferian estuary
rolling and roaring in crimson flames,
a twisted design of detonated debris,
like splitting sighs
from internal implosions,
raining fragments of the past:
matchbox memories
piercing through suffocating silence
as time tortures the mind
with flashbacks of floating fragility…
O invisible moonlight,
pour me a purple potion
to erase the pain behind
perplexed pupils.
I no longer desire to be
cast in the clamorous clusters,
convicted as the captive ~
a ghost of games
playing on the bones of brokenness,
this cave of shame,
this cell of hellfire,
this emotional shrapnel,
reflecting self-loathing nightmares.
Perhaps I crowned myself
the commander,
leading the devil’s disciples
into a war assembled from fear…
And this heart ~ a metallic maelstrom
mourning in the turmoil of melancholy ~
breaks from the inability
to step beyond wrathful walls
to a landscape of holiness,
to seek the footsteps of pilgrimage.
For I am caught in
the whirling whispers of
spectral regrets,
replicating rectangular ruins,
electrifying the empyrean
with greyed grief
and yellowed yearning.
Pondering ~ am I the blasphemer
in the cross-eyed faces of monsters?
Am I the breath
that trembled ~ disrupting the peace?
Am I the empty spaces
filling the crystalline cracks
between haunting hours,
while darkness devours
treacherous tales
climbing from the
archives of devious agony…
But can love gift this skeletal sorrow
a twilight-kissed cloak of hope?
Will heaven be a witness
to these bleeding carvings
within the tall pillars
of my splintered spirit,
while the dying lamp of life
slowly fades and waves farewell
in faint colors ~ depicting misery
like demons decaying,
shaping a sadistic sanctuary
of malignant madness~
a familiar insanity inked
as a heinous home…
Some parts of life are permanent,
alas, some aspects not:
The morning temperature feels chill;
by midday it grows hot.
The money spent on cell phones'
long-term value which I sought,
Too soon is gone, as more is spent
on upgrades I've since bought.
The sun in its celestial course
yields light, black night, or shade.
Old years tossed out with calendars
as fire's embers fade.
Some friendships evanesce,
forgetting promises we'd made
Our children grow and move away,
as hair grows thinned and greyed.
Staunch boughs of trees are shaken by
harsh winds, enduring long.
'That time of year thou mayest in me
behold'; thy love's more strong.
You've been my life's sweet constant
as we harmonize our song -
One truth is undeniable:
in your arms I belong.
// Dedicated to Janet, my loving bride of 35 years //
The Middle Time is now upon me,
The tune to which I dance grows somewhat thin;
A ghost remembrance of that cacophonous din
To which my steps were measured in my youth.
I know there lies now less before
Than all those days that lay within
The sepulcher of careless memory passed,
I apprehend the sometime bitter truth
That evil days approach my door
When much of what I've come to love will bid its leave
As I be forced to gaze aghast
At sights my eyes would fain not see,
When I to faithful hope must cleave.
Yet, what better time than this, the high point of the feast?
That Jester, Youth, has left the table
Leaving us the better able
To speak of things which more befit the greyed brow,
Matters weighty and sublime
Which better suit our natures now, though perhaps in tone more sable
Than such issues as delight the Fool,
Content the simpleminded sow -
Let us worthily pass the time
To Banquet's End, in company merry and refined,
Reviewing all we gained in Life's long school -
Establish what we value most and least,
Then say we fed our souls while yet we dined.
O grieve not that thy step be not so quick nor light
As t'was it's wont to be in bygone days,
Nor pine for carefree, childish ways -
They had their time, and sweet they were,
But now thou hast a surer, measured step
Nobler thoughts - the ones which stay,
Youth for all its joyful folly
Is not a state forever to prefer
To mind and manner better kept
From fancies and seductions strange;
Who but a Fool would be forever jolly
To deny his Midlife's further sight,
It's deeper view, it's wider range?
Form:
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
Shaking his head, following her voice as it trailed
He smiles to himself, ’give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
It was love at first sight, the surround greyed and paled
Spotting this electric eccentric, dancing in the rain
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
As time flowed by, he knew how they’d not failed
He is her best friend through all; hysterical laughter to anguish and pain
He smiles to himself, ‘give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
She loves him wholehearted, though never been veiled
On the news of their daughter, he’d tried proposing, in vain
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
Now soo much older, their matured rich love haled
She is both bubbly and light, and a grumpy old pain
He smiles to himself, “give it time’, hew knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
She turns to face him, happy laughter regaled
He takes her hand, “So about that sword cane…”
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
He smiles to himself, ‘give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
Contest: Third-Person Villanelle Poetry Contest
Hosted by: L.Milton Hankins
Date: 23.11.2022
truth imbibed
awaits assimilation
we feel it in our bones
in time dissolved meditation~ Unseeking Seeker
When the sun sleeps and the stars rise, close your eyes,
for there, within the sailing flickers of time,
you’ll feel the electric warmth of cosmic sighs,
caressing the soul chakra with bliss sublime.
We are silken fragments of engraved moonlight,
manifesting miracles from the truth traced,
while flames of dreams reignite colors so bright,
tuned in sync with the magnetic beams embraced.
And here, in the halcyon arms of silence,
I thread faith with thoughts of love, erasing fears,
releasing dimmed sparks from rays of resilience,
as truth breathes sweet elixirs from lotus tears.
In the hushed state of roseate reveries,
I hear songs of solace from the seventh sphere,
quenching greyed petals wilting in miseries,
for I am my zen, cloaked in crystals so clear.
Let faith dissolve blurred lines carved within jinxed art,
follow the softened storms laced with forgiveness,
trust in the sage stillness of the mindful heart,
incensed with peace, veiled in redefined kindness.
O glorious glow of the Almighty’s light,
allow my spirit to bask in the restful
quietude composed in diamond-glazed delight,
embodying luminous lamps, so zestful.
I viewed an ocean that I could not reach.
Water beckoned me but my path was blocked.
The rocky boulders protected the beach,
Leaving me a glimpse from my window panes.
The rocks seemed to smile at me whom they mocked,
And when the clouds greyed, it gave me remorse
That my travels were stopped by rock's cruel chains,
And I chose instead to redraw my course.
I moved from my home by sea and by beach.
Good-bye to the ocean that I couldn't reach.
longest night
greyed crumbling walls
housed holy monks in rising song
now only sparrows sing
moor brown winter dry
Kathy searches for Heathcliff
ponies huddle in ruins
ancient spirits
walk hill path pilgrimages
stars watch impassive
white ladies maidens
float above in tower halls
mice gather wheat seeds
wuthering winds pry
tightly shuttered windows hold
fox yips hound sleeps on
fill the hearth higher
gather for tales softly told
owls screech wisdom
whisper blessed words
drape the magic greenery round
soon night ends larks sing
She Whispered “I Love You” (MJH 20150619)
She whispered “I love you”
As we danced real close.
She caught me by surprise,
As I looked into her eyes,
And time suddenly froze.
I said “I love you, too.”
She whispered “I love you”
When I kneeled with the ring.
So, while trying to be clever
I said “that better be forever,”
(She nodded, saying nothing)
“Because I really love you, too.”
The Chaplain said the words,
Then we both said “I do”--
And she kissed me with a smile.
Walking back down the aisle
She called out “I love you”
Underneath the upraised swords.
A few years later,
I heard the happy news.
“Congratulations, Mommy.
We’re now a real family.”
We’d need both pinks and blues.
Life just couldn’t be better.
Your hair greyed, my hair thinned.
Always standing side by side.
Days became months became years-
Most filled with joy, then later tears.
One sad day, at her graveside,
I heard “I love you” on the wind.
Form:
For a quarter
of a hundred years
We waited
hidden.
Others losing heart.
We listened
blending
Others died.
We listened
motionless
We learnt all there is
and more
Till our hairs greyed and fell
We waited
invisible.
Living among spiders.
Then the forth came,
Chosen,
The boy
Gave us a fighting chance
Giving us,
The only hope we had
He saw the road
Turned us into hungry lions,
launched
An irresistible pride unto ourselves,
And wise humility.
Music
The food of love..
To nourish my soul
Keeping me warm,
Dear friend, in the cold.
We dance and sing
Yet you never judge
Or my crazy, wide-eyed
Fantasy begrudge.
Although my frame
May be slow and weak.
You see the truth..
My moves are sleek
With You I'm fleet of foot
And never shy.
No Strictly ballroom
Can deny..
My spirit
Soars on wings again
Like Eagles high..
A flippin' ten.
Oh tuneful friend
Oh dancing Queen of joy
You raise us all
Each girl.
Each boy.
In sleepless dreams
We never yawn
We are Aretha;
Freddie;
Bjorn.
There is no heart without you.
No tune we cannot bring.
No hidden corner
Too dark to sing.
No greyed out human.
No colourless soldier.
No battle lost, with You.
No thing is ever over.
For music brings
Eternal light
Scattering the shadows
Of the night..
Revealing hope
And peace and love.
A gift composed
From high above..
If the curtain closes
I can only say;
When the final meal is music
..then play.
Jinjagoliath
3rd October 2020
You lay in the wooden cot,
a broken sparrow,
Crushed. Bony. Frail.
Hair once plumed gold,
greyed to clumped feathers
like ragged trampled wings,
strawed out on the dank pillow.
Face once blushed pink plump,
Jolly kind of soft with life,
Sucked to bone. Nose to Beak.
Echoes of the mask it will soon become.
I stroked this woman
now bent back to foetus pose.
Once sworled to shell,
wrapped inside myself,
Safe.
Now boned to carcass stick.
I wanted to hold one more time,
my child,
frightened the last air would puff to nought from its hollowed breast.
But my sparrow turned and smiled,
a grimace to crack open any gates of envisaged hell.
Macabre teeth, once glowing love and laughter to the skies,
Now pecked to ochre stalks.
The pitiful bird pained to move.
Mucous mouth clacked open wide
To receive some lasting morsel of life.
Only its beady blue gaze
flashed a soul of its former self,
eyes to haunt the sea.
I swallowed back my tide of tears,
waves of memory flooding sands of life we’d shared,
from fledgling dawn cry to this,
the final nesting box.
I wanted to stuff this cot with down
of a million eider.
To cosset and hold soft this scrawn, gnawed through.
Pluck teal, goose, swan.
‘Who would have thought it would come to this?’ it croaked a laugh.
I matched smile with smile.
I held the tiny claw.
Desperate not to cling too much to pain,
too much to past.
I wanted to wrap up this dying bird
Limp, in my hanky.
White folded white, fold on fold.
Run through the streets
shouting at the world, at some unseen power.
NO.
She’s mine. She’s safe. Take me.
What cruelty did I do?
What evil must be stuffed in this maternal breast
To hold this daughter dust in my arms?
I fear to be Here
You make me feel spooky
Your greyed hue laid me in cist and
Chaos of headlights gore the peace
they reminisced,
How he dumped me like a trash
I repel to feel bygones allures,
What tasted like Himalayas.
When you painted me in blood and prised,
Like a god of devour.
And that one night, it purloined my
drape, frilly and virginity
Here in this basement,
inside his car with mirth!
For those who fly our nation’s flag and forget to care for it.
I really hate to see Old Glory faded
Greyed and tattered fluttering at the mast
Denied the respect and stature of the past
In our country where the values are all jaded.
That it would now seem fit to pass a law
Forbidding us from burning that prized symbol
Speaks volumes to the force that makes me tremble,
Detracting from the praise it had before.
Where are the boys and girls who gave their lives,
The men and women who stood proudly to salute,
With patriotism undaunted, hearts resolute.
Tell me in this land the pulse still thrives.
Along the boulevards that crease our city
Hanging there neglected and torn
Forgotten, ignored and forlorn
You’ll see our nation’s flag and it is a pity.
At dawn no veteran’s chest to swell with pride
At sunset, no guard to draw it down,
Just lip-service lighting from the ground,
Something in our spirit seems to have died.
It’s a sad old flag, a tattered old rag,
Forgotten neglected and torn,
A symbol of the land we loved
Once pride of the place I was born.
Now that you have got this far, leave a message and be a star!
Thank you
For those about to die,
We salute you.
I once heard him say.
Little did I realise
That I would go that way.
Predators and Weapons
Are my closest friends
Those who should love me -
Every one pretends.
Words and deeds are arrows
Photographs are worse
I sometimes think I’m suffering
From a great big curse
Rumour and compromise
Deadly enemies to me
There seems no way to stop it
No way to be free
I only wish I’d seen this
When I was still young
Then perhaps I would not be
The sad and lonely one.
It seems my only brother
Has spoilt my entire life
When all I really want to be
Is a loving wife
And yes I think I should
Be able to be free
To be myself for no-one
Does it quite like me.
Shining like a beacon
High up in the sky
Some say they are jealous
So maybe that is why.
As my life started
So will it end
That is unless
I find a REAL friend.
Many people will benefit
From all that I have done
But no-one will know my name
The steal has begun.
CHERISH AND NURTURE YOUR HEROS
Form:
Greyed cloudscape:
Even the leaves
have, true to their name,
left the Sky.
Readying work is
done.
Flowers, matings, done.
Repairs and preparations,
all made.
The only work remaining
is excuses.
Exculpations of a worn Self.
Rationalizations
follow realizations
which have long
followed idealizations.
Winter is coming
like a 30 ton steaming
locomotive (crazy motive)
let loose, downhill, and
feeling late to station.
I remember, though,
that surely as the cowcatcher
comes, threateningly
racing towards my Now,
it carries with it
an end of itself
a caboose, a Spring.
And so, though Winter
comes, so too does
it's End.