Best Maroon Poems
I’m feral like a fox
misplaced in the
maroon mists
of wilderness,
only found in
woeful woodland.
My skin is blanketed
in crimson balmy
hyacinth feathers
from a
forsaken rainforest.
Misguided on
delusional paths,
where spring-tides
mirror liquified colors
of warm diamond tears
I’ve suppressed
behind ice blue sighs.
And I’ve seen
splintered petals
beneath thick-leaved
jewel orchids,
that surrendered
to greying leaves
on tainted twigs
and broken branches.
I’ve walked through
fields of thorns
where the
musky scent
of roses remained
a poison to
my aching soul.
So, why does it
feel like I’m chained
from vines of changes,
that suffocate
the sun within me,
crucifying the fragility
of premature
begonia beginnings?
Am I to follow
the darkness,
to cast away the evil,
constantly pushing me
into a cave of
cacophonous silence?
As I see beyond
the gossamer veil,
hiding sharpened talons
of treacherous eagles-
flying amongst
vicious vampires;
emerald foes
masked as friends,
feeding my conscience
with cruel concoctions,
oblivious to the truth,
that I am a bark believer
of marigold miracles.
So let the
steel black breeze
and the
faceless ghosts
of fleeting time,
witness how I
rise against
wicked wolves
lurking behind
stars within
a chiffon laced
canopy of nightfalls.
For, I am more
than the empty labels
you’ve placed,
like the shame,
I’ve buried beneath
lyrical lies drizzling
from vanilla skies.
Before iron winter commands the land
The brown ground sparks a bittersweet blaze
Bonfire breezes cross in smoky strands
Where nut stashing squirrels pause to gaze
On museums of leafy orange haze
Maroon afternoons of apple's sharp bite
Foretells the night tomcats dress as jaguars
Tricking candies for ghoulish appetites
For sweet treats, they knock on doors near and far
As spells of cuteness fill their cookie jars
Even when the morning sun flees the east
And the rains arrive, secluded and dank
We prepare to share the harvest feast
For the coming spring, behind the cloud banks
For the warmth of family ~ I give thanks.
10/16/20
For 'Autumn' poetry contest
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Maroon boy, you must go home now
Go walk naked in your tropic sun
And scan the bush for the wild sow
And test your youth in the jarring run
Go to your woodland and recall
Every bush and tree by its name
Listen to hear a mango fall
And smile when the poinsettia flame
This is too noisy a place, child
The cars cough their carbon black as night
Into my lung, I am defiled
By secret waves humming with red light
Or invisible as bad ghosts
Churning my cells to sickness and death
These cities are frail frantic hosts
And the children here, are full of fret
Maroon boy, you cannot stay here
The wilderness calls you over there.
WILD WOLF and MAROON MOON
No Moon night, neither bright nor clear
Wild Wolf stared silent on starry sky.
Moon-phases started as days passed by.
Nascent crescent descent moon to appear.
Excited wolf got stunned and made mild grunt.
Gazing at Half Moon wild wolf wandered.
Gibbous Moon when up with ghostly wonder,
Wolf moaning groaning but not ventured to hunt.
At last Full Moon glazed on golden disc.
Wild wolf started growling howling,
rushed for hunting with frolic frowning,
winked at maroon Moon turning lunatic.
08/10/18
' Wolves and the Moon' Contest by Julia Ward
Third Place
'SEPTEMBER PREMIERE 2018' Contest by Brian Strand
I see the girl, walking a soaked street,
as fallen leaves pave a path
for her in a maroon skirt,
talking about the boy she never did love;
dreaming about the man she'll never get-
as she holds close,
her head starts to pop
when she's done; lost again, another one,
gone once more, believe me, again lost, I know.
A heartbeat stills, for a moment, a heartbeat loses sight
of true light, the stroke of a pen, gone-goodnight...
She, the girl in maroon, walks again,
stumbling and lost to her car,
light a cigarette and watch her get lost,
that girl in the maroon,
she jumps in, with a twist of hand and touch of a key
to the ignition,
she lights up and drives away...
lost, gone, forgotten, goodnight.
.6.1.2014.
Mother insisted upon bringing Dad's maroon blazer to Oregon when she came to visit after his death. She just could not bear to let it hang unused in his closet. She wanted me to "get the use out of it."
I finally gave it to Goodwill.
could not ever wear
his old clothes burning my skin
lonely child once more
Published in Contemporary Haibun Online
their hue so striking
standing tall in the garden
sunflowers beaming
my deep crimson rose
has the trace of chocolate
like the evening skies
on the street of dreams
are showstopper maple leaves
with berries nearby
In the shadows of maple leaf l
your lips at the rim of coffee cup
On your face there's a music of sky
In the breeze sways dandelion fluff
The moment our eyes meet your iris
Smiles as if roses blooming in sun
Sea breaking on shores calls me in his
poetry, I agree and say, done
We in a maroon swing, king and queen
September 29
Queen Of Day 9 x 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
On the mountainside
the shades of maroon remain
in a blanket of color
The maroon shimmers
on the mountain that’s waiting
for when the sun goes to rest
Heidi Sands
11/8/21
The gentleman strode confidently along the strand
‘his silver topped cane was gripped tightly in hand
‘the storm which had raged with that purple strange light ‘had pushed him forward in -time to this very night.
People looked and thought it great ‘that period dressing was the latest gait .
No one could have guessed or possibly have known ‘that this Victorian gentleman ‘
was marooned Years from His home .
Mystic maroon Moon mesmerizing me
sending mild rays on my way back to home at night.
Haply descent crescent Moon descended
to glow as a torch showing light
above twenty feed above head.
Neither dream nor illusion :
Me perplexed in bizarre condition
through conscious confusion
Moon rays dazzled ! I was forced to close eye tight.
Tree at gate slapped me with long leaf.
Wished te enter home to get relief.
Surprised most being curious :
Moon now shinning, turning bigger ghostly gibbous
and winked at me : I was about to swoon.
But soon Moon just vanished !
I am a Maroon
Flesh and blood and everything
My spirit cries against the toxic air
Of cities, and broken moon
Perched on skyscrapers
Surveying ruin
Blowing with greasy scraps of paper
Through the horror of night
Eagles with broken wings.
I want to enter the bush again
And be still
Within the wash of rain
Far from the folding clothes of pain
Cankering my will.
I am Maroon
Lover of the land like Muta
Baruka
On when the California fires burn
I sit and smile with the sun
Staring at my wings of wax.
My Maroon Best Friend
Is there for me day or night,
Constant, warm and cuddly bright!
What would I do without this
beloved companion?
The Keurig maker, my steadfast
connection,
To a plethora of drinks of heavenly
confections!
Panagiota Romios
3/25/2019
The prior property owners planted the most beautiful flowers.
We took possession last December, and this is our first spring.
For the first time, I noticed a lovely flower a few days ago
and last Sunday afternoon, pointed it out to our neighbor.
Upon seeing that flower, I sensed an air of stealth and utter
secrecy, and as I stared at her, being arrested and captured
by her beauty, I was mesmerized by her stunning presence.
Why, it was one of the most beautiful maroon blossoms that I
had ever seen. She is a Super Lily, and I have named her Miss
Maroon. She and other lilies are growing at the foot of the
second of four Crepe Myrtles, trees of which are causing me
doubts about their flowering displays this year. Anyway,
I must say that Miss Maroon pleases me well this year.
The young pecan tree which grows about 15 feet away appears
to have been shocked by a late freeze and is struggling
for survival and might be calling it quits for this year.
Miss Maroon's other neighbors are a scattering of red roses,
marigolds, and a cactus plant whose beautiful yellow coloring
I am greatly anticipating. But for now, it's all about Miss Maroon.
052523PS
Cloudy sky :
Maroon Moon
glows hazy.
Ebon night !
Darkness fight
in Moon beam.
Mesmerised
Lovers turn
lunatic