Best Layering Poems

A field of wheat cloaked in dewy silence
the orchestra tunes up with avian arias
bullfrog basses and a choir of cawing crows,
xanthic sunflowers turning their heads to better see,
the daylight trajectory commencing with lazuline layering,
a breeze glissandoes on harps of oak leaves
tomorrow is now today,
 ...

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Realities Unbound

Thru realities unbound and transfixed
Elders open gates of Temporal Time
Layering Multi-Verses intermixed
Portals welcoming the new paradigm

Angelic voices transport thru the mist
Forging fires in dimensional drift
Creations of desires that coexist
Nebulous clouds of lust squeeze thru the rift

Orbs of passion set the pretentious pace
Planets of pleasure...

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Before you I am your canvas blank 
Delicately to paint linear and in liquid hues 
Dripping and splashing we two drank 
Forceful stimulated strokes you use  

Layering the colors upon my surface 
With a precision your brush does flow 
Emphasis laid on expressive purpose...

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Every one’s got an opinion
We are entitled to our views
But, we won’t all agree the 
Difference often times are 
Huge
Somehow the simpler the 
Problem harder the 
Moot
Layering instead of issues 
Open wounds
And personalized attacks 
Are used
A point of contention is
The deliberate disguising of
The truth 
Distorting...

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The fire crackled and spat out embers
that gleamed brightly in the hearth.
Yet unattended they soon died away
to become dull grey ash particles.

Just like a fire need laying and tending
so too does love to help it strongly flourish.
Careful layering of dry tinder and
a few wisps of...

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My little room...my four walls.
I sit in one of the four corners--
Like an embryonic sac, lifeless in a state of non existence...
Embellishing in the silence as I travel the deserts—of a dusty mind.

I now switch corners... deja vu, the walls are closeting in
Everything is the...

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The lights have been turned on
in the attic
Someone has flipped the switch
exposing
cobwebs, caster oil, crutches
newsprint and cheap china
Which I'm hesitant to touch
least it falls apart in my hands or
cracks like the blue Robin eggs
I once tried to store in my pocket.

I know I should begin...

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[Verse 1 – Sparse piano, falsetto opening]
Sailing toward a horizon I’ll never touch
Whispers break me, it’s all too much
I’ve left the beach
The sun stood still, the breeze was kind
Now I’m adrift and out of time
I can’t find peace

[Chorus – Ambient synths begin layering, slow build]
Only...

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Around the corner and half a block away, the flavor would grab me, tie me up to some irresistible force, then drag my nose to the source of its home.  The aroma that wafted in the air and up my whiffer was sweet and...

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It seems, in truth, that I'm such a glutton,
          For a pulsing, lighted or sliding button.

Christmas, for me? An arriving shipment,
          Boxes packed full with musical equipment!

Nothing...

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L’Heure Bleue

Winter comes into early spring,
Patches of grey crusted old snow linger in the shadows under spruce sentinels.
Larches still bare-branches, only for support of their moss beards.
Scraggily aspen limbs silhouetted against the sky
Crossed by airplane signatures of travel above, to far away unknown places.

The wind...

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Endangered Trailblazing
                                  by Odin Roark

Astride his father’s shoulders,
Like a double decker bus,
There...

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The storm was unrelenting,
Possessed of a fury unmatched by anything he had ever seen.
The wind blew the rain towards the ground in regimented and precise layers,
Legions of droplets descending on the earth like some vast army.
In stark contrast to the disciplined layering of the falling...

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Dream Keys
      by Odin Roark

A NY mantra
Rent the rentable
Move the movable
Key the keyable

Apartments

Four-wall-guardian of yesterday’s youth
Vacuous cellmates of old age loneliness
All part of a cyclic maze
All having a key
Urban life’s Rubik’s Cube turnover

Today’s the day

“Two rooms”
“New paint”
“Clean window”
“No-squeaky floorboards”
Superintendent loves...

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Layering stroke by stroke
the syllables of filtered mist's breath,
eastern winds spin like a circle of tropical
fish and flower beds on a lattice...
and the soft tresses of this air pours
on wayfarers sort of crystal beads new.
Then another circle whistles
inside my flesh, a sponge... an oasis,
bathing loin...

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