Best In Situ Poems


Premium Member I'Ve Got Blue ****

a pair of blue ****
inspecting new nesting box
spring is in the air

I know haiku don't have titles... but I couldn't resist!

My nesting box was made by students at the school I worked at - it has been in situ since 2016 but this is the first year birds are making it their home. I watched the pair inspecting the box on Sunday, the male spent ages pecking round the entrance to make it smooth ... today they are nest building in it

4/19/18

Premium Member October Streetwise Plot

Wild Leafs flutter in a hue-laden town,
windows creak open, spritely faces gleam,
cheerful air burgeoning, no need to frown,
sweet fragrant coffee dock, a gust of hot steam,
just rejoice as the heavens don their gown

Bus stop close at hand, joyous high alert,
laughter billows skyward without panic,
rainbow veneered  archway, daylight concert,
broadcast on the pavement, sound of manic,
street painter chalk marks granite slab, dull gray berth

It’s autumn and those colours bound to show,
bright clad walkway, budding Rembrandt canvass,
red hot sun trail blaze, smoldering, aglow,
ice cool fall in situ, magic atlas,
urban setting nod to season wide flow

Power lines a home for migrant songbirds,
they chirp at streetwise citizens in train,
who brave the latent chill in eager herds,
huff and puff swarm enduring tingly rain,
rapture in a plot for winter blizzards

Conduit For Heaven

Each of us can be a conduit for Heaven. It takes being present and open so that you're able to be guided to help and bless others. Remember that anything is possible and miracles happen all the time. Blessings, love and light. 

Conduit for Heaven 
By Michelle Morris
24/12/2022

I never expected to be 
A conduit for Heaven above
I never expected to feel
So many blessings and love

I am nobody and everyone
I am special and unique
I am lost in a billion lives
And in history's way of dealing

I am part of a strange and difficult life
A path I felt I'd never have chosen
Yet, by all accounts it would seem
That everything was meant to be broken

For in all the losses and all the traumas
I learned much about my strength and integrity
How I could remain above the fray
And be kind to all my enemies

Sometimes it was so challenging
To keep silent and walk away
People often think you're weak
When you're stronger than they imagine

For dignity and kindness
Is usually underestimated
Being constructive is a gift
That God gives to the greatest

Still, I retain a humble air
I don't think I'm better than you
I just try my very best to do
Better to each soul in situ

I never expected to be
A conduit for Heaven
Despite being told many a time
That I would be God's angel

A lightworker and old soul
Sent to this world to help save it
Seemed far to high a quest
Almost beyond outlandish

But, here we are in reality
As much as we can perceive it
And I keep being given messages
To share with human beings

Maybe one day I'll understand it
Maybe one day it will make sense
But for now I'll do my best to help
Every human soul I can influence

© Michelle Morris, 2022


Premium Member Reflections By Clintons Red Mill

Going through its ambiance, (on) with open thoughts,
Past scenes so serene, and picturesque (in situ passed).
A house, its windows just ajar to the tactile winsome breeze
That taste of zest & adventure infused; with distilled memory’s, 
And (sensed) delights unmet “as yet”.the wend of life so rich, 
surrounds my mind & senses like the abundant shining light.
That upon the varied tableaux glow, before falls the lilac scented night.
Through all the turvy ways, and livelong day, 
I’ll count the picket fences, as I travel or Stop to gaze.
I look out onto the pastureland that runs between the towns,
Observing rolling verdant turf, and cattle with thoughtful frowns.
The Holstein herds and Jersey cows, with Friesians ’mooing low’,
Character houses stand on hillocks; a horse & buggy moving slow.
There are tended lawns with a velvet like pile, 
that have entered my awareness, these pleasant miles,
And on the horizon moving; (waits) that shimmering rippling run.
Of a blue & ribboning shoreline where pleasure necessitates fun.
There wind can like a lion roar, or call like turtle doves
With New Jersey soul superimposing the whole in the USA that I love!...

©Joe Maverick 1-6-2011Copyright)

Otherness, the Dichotemy Dissected

"Otherness, the dichotemy dissected"

The facial surface
stitched tight 
photosynthesis pares
celluloid divisions
their inquisition solitary
and thickly wading 
shallow and elementary 
the dichotomy mercilessly
shaved whittle thin
by others’ strangeness 

the primary magnified
in situ perfectly imperfect
petri dissected

through the windows
sunlight slices and shapes
the hidden embedded dark derision

into something 
entirely other
encoded with true meaning

The facial surface
stitched tight 
photosynthesis pares
celluloid divisions
their inquisition solitary
and thickly wading 
shallow and elementary 
the dichotomy mercilessly
shaved whittle thin
by others’ strangeness 


(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

A Painting

A  PAINTING.

Creating and recreating
Shapes of desire
A cunning way to rest
My tired brain, painting
Coloured to aspire
A curve to be hugged
A corner to be embraced.

Murmuring song of
 Past remembrance
Mind ravaged in situ.
Energising the hand
To ask for spirit’s favour
Setting up an arrangement
To trap myself aflame
Within a creative frame.


Premium Member Out of Time - Contest

I set the date
Hope I am not too late
To save some souls
From chilly fate

The year of our Lord
Dial one nine, one two
From my home-based lab
After locking in-situ

A gyro spins
A crackle, a flash
I land on the deck
With a terrible crash

Oh souls that surround me
Running here and around
Never notice my vehicle
Though designed to astound 

The floor is now jaunty
My breath like fresh mist
The critical moment I fear
I have missed

Make fast to the lifeboats
Although they are few
I frantically seek out
The captain and crew

"You can double the numbers.."
I cry with a shout
It's too late for they're pushing
The final boat out

I reach for my notepad
Complete these last lines
'Crisp bright morning air
Yet the darkest of times'

A note to myself
Set my machine now to 'home'
So she whirrs and she crackles
Takes instructions, alone

My vain hope is she 
Meets me in an earlier state
An inventor incumbent 
To change the course of this fate

Now my destiny sealed
By dark ice of the sea
As resigned I join singing;  
Nearer My God to Thee

Fast forward to now
Deep-sea divers explore
The old shipwreck is claimed 
By the ocean once more

Yet a mystery beckons
Cameras peer through the grime
Uncatalogued cargo
Out of luck, out of time
© Sam Scott  Create an image from this poem.

Memories of Murder

The mist was thick, the hour was late,
I halted at the rusty gate;
I’d heard the stories of that place,
And thought about a crime so base:
A girl was murdered, years ago.
Her ghost remains in situ, though;
She can not leave the place she died,
They say - or had those people lied?

I stepped onto the hallowed ground,
And heard a noise and spun around.
A mouse…a rat…a cat…I hoped.
I couldn’t see a thing, and groped
The headstones, as I staggered through -
Completely lost, what could I do?
My nervous heart was beating hard;
Alone,  I crept in that graveyard.

Surrounded by the fog and gloom,
I tripped and fell across a tomb,
And hands were at my throat, I swear -
Although I felt no body there.
The girl was strangled, beaten, slashed;
I knew the way her throat was gashed.
Her killer jailed, she can’t forget
About her murder. Such regret!

A pretty teen who’d known such Hell,
And through her thoughts, I’d die as well.
My larynx crushed, I prayed for peace,
And for that sorry soul’s release.
As blows began to rain on me,
I knew I had to set her free -
Before I also died the way
That she had done upon that day.

I struggled, but alas too late,
And wished I’d stayed outside that gate.
I felt the jagged glass attack,
And sensed there was no turning back.
The moon appeared, the fog had cleared;
I trembled as the spectre neared.
The murder victim shook her head.
“It’s time I left,” she smiled and said.

The birds were singing as she rose.
She’s found repose.

for Knight's story contest
© Jack Horne  Create an image from this poem.

I-Igloo

I,   I,   I,   I – indeed!
Inspired, induced, 
incorporated Inverted illusions in imaginations.
Ideas inexplicable ingress, 
ingrained invisibly intact.
Iridescent Igloo! Impressive!
It is immaculate, ineffable,
icy ink inmost intrude,
inlaid Igloo instantly!
I in interjection,
inflicted infancy influx,
innocent interpretations,
inviting Igloo! insistently, in situ.
I ...... increasingly inflated in intend, interestingly.
Its’ interiors’ in incise,
imply invincibility.
Imperial Igloo! I imbue!

Premium Member Imagine

Sumptuous feasts enchanted float on by,
as I peer into an opulent expanse,
garnet clad entrance aglow,
imagine august beauty at its mise en scène peak,
ingress to celestial nirvana’s Laurel-ridden charm,
iridescent veil of cirrus nebula,
window blind ephemeral in situ,
rapid inkling’s meteoric shower,
harvest for the milk and honey bard,
goes beyond elysium horizons,
flight of fancy totem, utter breathless oath,
unearthly surreal lustrous cache,
burst of universal zenith trumpeting,
exalted plot as moonbeam step stair,
just imagine for a spell psalmodic Meccas,
to a hue-laden whirlpool vortex,
that sequesters sun-drenched harbours,
gurgling stream meanders, moss-fleck tides,
mesmerizing shroud of lambent bayou,
hazy plume on silver waterfall,
scarab mountain chain at sapphire dawn,
whose jewel-rich seams glisten enigmatically,
indigo blue species, bold passerine upsweep,
wayfarer halcyon Xanadu bound,
urban forest blackcap’s luscious throb,
snowbird glee club ear chant for
sprightly day-peep first rank,
amber leaf cascade a sequined duvet on barren playground,
rainbow eucalyptus but a foil for sylvan zephyr,
crystal ball elixir knows no quench or glut,
imagine life eternal in my wonder world cocoon

Date written and posted ; Second of March 2023
      Contest ; Writing Challenge - I Words - ‘ Poetry Contest
    Sponsor ;  Constance La France

Premium Member C S Lewis J R R Tolkien Elgar and Malverns distress

Around the Hills of Malvern now..Desecration takes place.'
Let me inform all how.' Where Elgars body has rested long
And Tolkien and Lewis did ramble in song.'  all of these
Three historical giants, drew breath and inspiration none
Can deny it, seeds of thought in Lewis's mind grew into
Enchanted forests even braille did find it. And shared to
The world by many houses, published gems given to milions of children my imagination it rouses.' Gondor of
Middle earth from these hills Tolkien drew' its white walls
And turrets and hidden gardens shone through.' And Elgar twined the
Sough of its breeze.' The lambence of light in tones to
Please.' To refresh the spirits to inform the ears.' That grace
And beauty are to be played despite dread or fear.' In the face of
Hitler they were rehersed.' Indomitable riposte to wagners
Stuka played curse.' And now the enemy in different form
Under the cloak of green climate' snorts and paws cash
From rate payers is being put to miss-use..Same old trope
Of miss-infomation is now in use a commitie starved down
From twenty eight to six.!! Consolidating power the usual
Tricks.' Now two hundred new houses have been allowed
Concrete scars will be in situ where once fields were plowed.' Sacrilige plain in your face, ok'd by cronies yet 
There is video trace.' I raise my eyes to Malverns hills I
Raise my pen, would it had quill.' I would despatch it to pierce the evil soul, of this cold committe let it be told.'
May litratures warriors get to the fire.' Email Malvern council the 'need is sore' let them know of the poets ire the
Revenge merits to be meted.' Justice must be requited.'

Circa January 2010 Bell Tower and Carillon

Twittered Via Chilled Wren
At Valley Forge, Pennsylvania

Prior carte blanche to confessing illicit
     extra-marital affair
I embolden tomb ache
     elicit, and baldly bare
faced laid out some
     of the sordid details clear
embarrassed at one escapade
     in particular constituting dear

peppy's questing randy romping caper
     necessitating vigilance 'ere
a park ranger, (or other unsuspecting
     winter weather way
     Farer attired in gear
adequately bundled
     cold as a witch's tit
     seasoned trooper) 
     reluctantly repeated here

(unforgettable if only be
     cause this "FAKE" Casanova ace
thee Missus i.e.wife)
     did conversationally chase
beseeched, hen pecked,
     and implored me NOT to erase
boot to recount with (itty bitty)
     Monty Python glory, a straight face,
that one particular amazingly grace

obviously penned up, 
     and not in the write
mind (pre poetry daze),
     which scurrilous anecdote
     did (and still does) in vite

guffawing, sans
     peculiar public philandering,
     with atavistic cave man
     designs tried to unite
where daunting phallus spite

confronting Arctic Vortex when right
lee let loose from pants
     froze like a little popsicle quite
purposely remained flaccid

     leaving me in a penile plight
when trying to hump
     (standing up like a good Knight
comically ridiculous travesty)
     With Barbara B****, light
of adventurous Green Beret spirit, the
     Unabashed MILF about average height
fifty years, whose busty bosom

     silicone breast implants
     tell tale viz radiation
     and chemo therapy fight
(resulting from post
     Ductal Carcinoma in situ)
needless to tell
nary an erectile spell
Asper tinker soldier
     tailor spy didst quell

basic animal instinct,
     and feral gonadal horniness
with intent to consummate sexual intercourse
     according tummy ought to occur,
     cuz that blustery air
     mirroring said day when hell
nearly froze over invoking
     intervention from Cain and/or Abel.

Thus when prick remained
     limp and nearly frost bitten
(at a boulder christened cock rock),
     aye frostily smitten
slogging wet sneakers, thru
    knee high snow...now, no mo' tubby written.

Rain

 Rain,
wet, cold,
tiny little molecules,
almost shaped like tagpoles,
clear, yet shades of blue,
pelting down as if almost new,
breathtaking from the grey smoking chimney view,
roaring winds sweep through the rear choking smog,
enchanting, yet behold misery, frustration, panic, eagerness run through,
back away, back away, from your rear window in situ.

Poetic License Sic Stet Amor

Alter-ego                                                                                                                                                                                 Alias ergo                                                                                                                                                                                          Alibis vice versa                                                                                                                                                                               Non-status quo                                                                                                                                                                       Persona-non-Grata                                                                                                                                                               Ad hoc de facto                                                                                                                                                                                     In situ in loco                                                                                                                                                                     Per se errata et cetera                                                                                                                                                              Habeas corpus scrip ex gratia                                                                                                                                                Compos mentis  Amor Omnia
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Eager Bard Imbued Part Two

Lemon tinted phase
gilded skyline blown
by ethereal fused mist 
eager bard imbued 
opal dream flotilla  
beyond tarnish while
flash point chariots 
of gleam-well canvass
astir or astern perforce 
taunt a hued vase 
porcelain image fest
for staunch earthbound 
soul’s cry parched 
stricken migrant famish 
sapphire plume ray
bounty veridical
pink chalk sketch
granule blush pots
pearl beam spur 
to jumpy pilgrim 
grey elephant garb
drifter’s lull prone 
metre of skewed 
and barren glib
dull tossed aside 
rambles and brambles 
from cerebral quartz
beige quirky quill 
nose twitch petrichor
glacé smelt rain   
lava veined fillip 
fervent fetal floe
ignited indigo inkling 
as noonday nuanced
glance en dash
away from orange 
peel cloud skies 
toward spring rush
urban junction fare
as founding cue
for zeitgeist driven 
western world eden
brick red hydrants
fricative wet spray
dousing hoarse busker
charged by crazy 
pavement stamp
stoic poet in situ
tumult, hubbub,
rumpus heightened 
by brazen banter
silver coin wobble
on carrageen rim
of oyster pebbled 
pool a mecca
for stanza stymied 
lingerer who scouts 
eclectic threshold 
born of cumbersome
blight on ingenuity

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