Best Pellets Poems
With his icy fingers he stole my smokey breath,
laid a sheet of slippery freezing cold by my feet
and then whispered in my ear right to the drum
that echoed in my brain with excruciating pain.
She, his wife was of a complete different temperament
quietly without fuss she crafted blanched cotton flakes,
each a masterpiece, unique as if she retained every design
she had ever imagined so each time she could create anew.
He however with his bravado with his swelled chest
would pepper speeding glass-like pellets into the air.
Sting our faces without regret. Salt our wounds.
Mercilessly bite into our flesh with his frosted fangs.
Daintily she'd sprinkle the sky with the magic of her cheer
feather the atmosphere in a delicate splatter of alabaster.
Layer by layer she laid soft sheets of snow to the delight
of everyone alike creating a playground of endless mirth.
His breath reeked of dreams frozen, nipped in the bud.
Already he had high jacked his sisters, the Autumn twins
sent them packing, hurried, gathering their rustic garments.
He had no love of his siblings except his baby sister, Spring.
His wife loving and caring would temper his yearly onslaught.
She knew of his pain, deep, abandoned by his father Summer.
At times she'd blow slightly warmer air to provide respite for
us mere humans and allow the sun to warm our weary bones.
They would sit together and it was her would bring out
the albums of family photos view pictures of his mother.
Her smile like music would soothe his stone cold heart.
He loved, when she'd visit in the guise of an Indian Summer.
With his icy fingers he stole my smokey breath.
I felt her presence there to temper his harsh avail.
Winter had arrived but when they walked as one
this magnificent couple dressed in their royal winter whites,
without a second thought you would bow in front of their regal
stance, a sight to behold, one that encompassed the entire land.
04~01~2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Seasons
Categories:
pellets, winter,
Form:
Personification
Like a creature hibernating in its burrow
Waiting to come out with the first verdure of spring,
The seed of a poem lay dormant in my heart
Through the long winter awaiting another spring
After staying torpid inside for long,
At a time I expected it the least
Timidly came out the first word,
As shaky as a calf getting up for the first time.
Then another came and word after word in a row
Like pellets of rain on the window pane
I boiled them in the crucibles of my imagination
And finally dipping them in the ocean of my emotions
But rhyme came to set constraints
For the right alignment I struggled
I had to decide on its texture and format
Pondered if it should be a sonnet or an ode
I might have kept the door open for long
Alas! All my words and fancies flew away,
Like birds taking on wings into the sky
From a cage where they were imprisoned for long
I stood so helpless with my mouth shut,
Staring blankly out into the airy nothing
Like one lost in the doorway of his own threshold
Unable to call back those winged words lost in the void
________________________________________
~Placed Fifth~
Submitted for Marathon no.10. Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Mark Toney
~Placed First~
31. March .2022
A Brian Strand Standard
Poetry Contest
Categories:
pellets, analogy, betrayal, birth, growth,
Form:
Verse
I hunt my prey, late dusk or night
With wings so quiet in my flight
It's hard to see me up in trees
Since I am camouflaged with ease
My ears are placed in such a way
I hear most sounds from far away
My beak is hooked- made sharp to tear
But feathers cover it like hair
My eyes are large on my flat face
They do not move, stay firm in place
To see, I turn my head with ease
Two hundred seventy degrees
I hoot, hiss, scream, and most times, screech
To find a mate within my reach
Or let my competition know
This is my space, and they must go
In trees, await the choicest prey
Small mammals, birds, that come my way
Some days, on insects, I may dine
A fish from a small pond is fine
My talons are like raptor claws
When prey appears, without a pause
I quickly fly from tree to ground
And clench the bird or mouse I've found
My prey I often swallow whole
Complete digestion is my goal
Whatever I cannot digest
Comes up as pellets I express
And something you may think is cruel
When raising owlets, it's the rule
To feed the best and largest first
And so the weakest ones are cursed
A cannibal I can be too
Eat smaller owls that I pursue
I never feel the slightest guilt;
This is the way that I was built
Of owls, there are two hundred kinds
We've been around since ancient times
From small to large, with raptor claws
I think I came from dinosaurs.
February 3, 2016
Categories:
pellets, bird, imagery, tribute,
Form:
Personification
In times of plight I seek for you,
When rivers freeze and left are few,
While sorrow strikes, among the meek,
O’er the winds, and under the creeks,
It's you who then I wish to seek.
Mirth adorned in your silhouette,
In times of war, all when stale and vain,
The picture of you, is tainted coaled,
Relinquishing my soul, from the cold,
I seek to weld, our belted bond.
While the willow, in her bow'r sleeps,
drooping to the sunset steep,
like silver pellets along my chest;
they pierce through and caress,
At times like these, you seek for me.
Forward, Unfazed;
Not a moment to waste!
I long to bask in your estate,
Of short and glorious, evanescence!
I've come to seek, your essence!
18/8/19
Edward Ibeh
I Believe- Era
Categories:
pellets, hope,
Form:
Quintain (English)
A flower beginning with A is easy you see, an Aster I would sow
Bluebells of every colour and size in most gardens grow
Colourful Cornflower and Coneflower fills the scene,
Dianthus and Daisy look bright and so clean.
English lavender whose perfume fills the air,
Foxglove of many hues love to see them there.
Gladioli grow tall, look great cos of their beauty,
Hostas loved by the slugs til pellets do their duty.
Iris, so elegant, in wet areas love to shine,
Jasmine, whose heady perfume is divine.
Kalanchoe is a pretty plant likes to live indoors,
Lilac means Spring is here, buy lilac soap in the store.
Marigolds and Mistflower have their place in most gardens we see,
Nasturtium, a pretty old flower, yet smells like cats wee.
Orchids so majestic shout, look at me, I'm the prettiest of all,
Poppies of all colours, lovely to see them wafting so tall.
Quitensis is a plant that loves dusty conditions,
Roses, love to bloom wherever it's positioned.
Spring-flowers so beautiful heralding winter is over,
Tubs of tulips so elegant amongst the clovers.
Umbrella plant have leaves that look like a brolly,
Violets used to be made into posies and sold on a tray.
Wall flowers look good but the perfume's not the best,
Xeromena is a poor mans lily, to grow it, is a test.
Yarrow you will find in the spring,
Zinnia the last one, hope my list a smile will bring.
Penned. 3 July 2015
Categories:
pellets, beautiful, flower, garden,
Form:
Abecedarian
A snail has thousands of teeth
No wonder it is such a thief
It gobbles my plants
You should hear my rants
Slug pellets will give some relief!
I discovered from a quiz question that some species of snail can have over 25,000 teeth!
02~05~17
Categories:
pellets, garden, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
The sky becomes synonymous with grey,
signifying a storm is on its way.
And a sullied sun swiftly slips away;
allowing shadows to overcome day,
while clouds release their droplets straightaway.
Thunder echoes across purple-bruised skies,
as lightning causes drops to vaporize.
And ebony descends to claim its prize
while the whirling winds wail and Nature cries.
Treetops get tossed and bullied by each gust
for brisk breezes suddenly feel robust;
it happens swiftly, no time to adjust.
Broken by a murmured mantra of sound,
Silence acquiesces as raindrops pound.
And pellets of ice get viciously hurled!
Everything is in scattered disarray,
where twisters start to materialize.
Hail and rain meld into an icy crust;
that turns the streets into a battleground,
and neighborhoods into a netherworld.
Categories:
pellets, 10th grade, anxiety, hyperbole,
Form:
Rhyme
Frankie boy, go get my gun
Here comes those
pitchfork carrying citizens
They’re so scary angry and uninformed
Holding torches, they plan on
doing more than burn crosses on our lawn
Frankie boy, load up the old shotgun
Time to send those
trespassing rabble rousers on the run
Lead pellets gonna spray paint the yard
Red is the color
of the devil’s favorite corpse calling card
Frankie boy, tap the trigger on the gun
Time for us to start blending in ...
acting American
Tap the hair trigger on the gun again
Assimilating more metal violence
will make us double blessed American
Frankie boy, you’re my only son
Time to teach you
the wisdom of the smoking gun
See all of those jackrabbits run
Some got unlucky feet,
now they’re dead and done
Frankie boy, cool the gun barrel’s hot metal skin
It’s a frosty good start to blending in ...
acting like real Americans
Frankie boy, I loved you since day one
Go gather the cadavers,
the lightning is soon gonna come
Time for you to have some brothers and sisters galore
So go tell your doctor father and Igor —
we’re Americans, we ain’t acting like monsters no more!
Categories:
pellets, allusion, humorous, satire, violence,
Form:
Light Verse
A diaphanous mist hangs over me
Blurring my thoughts and fancy
Or is it that my Muses have gone into lazy slumber?
Whatever thoughts I have, they come fragmented and scrambled
In no way I can piece them into a string
As I try to nest them together, they wheel away like pigeons
When I struggle for utterance,
Like a child, I lisp at the very first word
Though thoughts strike me like pellets of rain against windowpanes
I fail to broil them in the crucibles of my imagination
I am a miner searching for a nugget of gold
In tons of drilled out mineral ore
In the dead of the night, in frightening stillness
I am awake, with a pen in my hand
A heavy weight pulling me down
Caught in a creative maelstrom, I whirl and whirl
I hope the ink will soon spill over
Scrawling coherent lines and letters
Like an emboldened farmer,
I sow seeds of my thoughts into a land barren,
Not fecund enough and not watered with imagination!
Who can say some of them won’t strike root
Even in the cleft of a rock and struggle bravely into sunshine
Spreading over their sterile birth place
With beauties any eye would love to behold!
I wait for that moment...
Yes, I am a poet in the making...!
October.1.2022
~ Placed Seventh~
2022 Marathon mile.23 Poetry Contest
Sponsor -Mark Toney
Categories:
pellets, angst, inspiration, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Around that table, picture the scene
Self appointed leaders if you know what I mean
What were the topics on the Agenda that day
The Jewish race is about to pay
Who gave the right for this decision that's made
Who has the right to cleanse and degrade
To decide who lived, to decide who dies
Another chapter, I still wonder why
They came in the day they came in the night
Women and children pulled out of sight
Herded aboard like cattle and sheep
Many a family awoke from their sleep
Dazed and confused as they are taken away
Where will they be at the end of the day
From their warm houses and their warm beds
What must be going through their heads
As they travel through days and through the night
Up ahead, they see lots of lights
They depart the trucks and board the train
Their faces scared under the strain
Asking questions from family and others
Generations, sisters and brothers
Why are we here, where are we going
Windowless carriages with no way of knowing
We come to a stop, soldiers aplenty
Towers and wire, topped with sentries
What can this place be they have taken us to
As we head to large gates as they shuffle us through
Families separated, herded in file
Women and children, not one did smile
Taken to rooms where our heads were shaved
Is this the way humans behaved
Clothes discarded, as we enter the shower
No signs of water no signs of power
Doors slammed as we are all crammed in
History will recall this evil of sins
As we stand in the dark, chanting Jewish faith
Can hear the voices can't see the face
Noises above, do the showers start
The event has begun that tells us Humans apart
Questions and sighs, as walled vents show daylight
Some thing is falling then their slammed tight
A strange aroma starts to fill the air
As all around are screams of despair
Twenty minutes have passed and the quietness is rife
Two thousand people, two thousand lives
Pellets called HCN, or Hydrogen Cyanide
Contribute to this Genocide
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
Categories:
pellets, angst, brother, childhood, daughter,
Form:
Rhyme
Magnificent! Willow stands in silent prayer,
enthralling, calm and composed,
It's snowing tonight..bestowing blessings ~
so does the evergreen unruffled...
stretching its arms in thankfulness,
decked with shimmering snow-pellets,
in absolute harmony of the cosmos magnanimous.
gleaming and glistening as the stars countless~
It's Christmas! symbolizing the spirit of
kindness, love, compassion glow...
I glimpse through the hazy window-panes,
world around me dazzling with scintillating snow.
reminiscences of many delightful Christmas
roll gently through my thoughts,
an open album of heartfelt memories~
of boxes, ribbons, and golden bows.
sprinkles, silver bells, and cookies...
of family rejoicing together...
of extending generous support to the needy,
true essence of Christmas for ever.
A tranquil, serene, dreamy night,
mesmerizing snow, falling unhindered,
envelop the entire universe around me.
I ponder my life of hues multi-coloured.
The exhilarating ebullience - for ever crystallized..
the inspiring dreams, the fervent hopes,
never fail to sight the mystifying truth
in every alluring snowflake I behold.
FIRST PLACE
November 26, 2021
For "X" Old Or New Poetry Contest
Theme: Christmas
Sponsor: Constance La France
June 14, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 2' Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Categories:
pellets, christmas, family, love,
Form:
Verse
It’s snowing ….incandescent, luminescent,
Silvery snow, whispering dreams of rejuvenation...
Air misty, breeze calm, serene!
Do I see the divine Star, which directed the wise men
To a stable on an enchanting evening of starry twilight ...
Winter in sublime aura, orchestrating a sonata of
Harmony, poise, grace, artistry!
Sights through my window-panes are blurred!
Rooftops getting blanketed with white shimmering laces!
Treetops beautifully embellished with silver ornaments,
Grasses caressed by the softest drizzle of snow!
Magnificent Willow stands in silent prayer,
Calm and composed, so does the unruffled Evergreen,
Stretching its arms in thankfulness,
Decked with shimmering snow-pellets,
Gleaming and glistening as the countless stars are,
In the absolute darkness of the magnanimous cosmos,
Majestic jewellery adorned.
Tranquil, serene, noiseless, moonlit nights,
Mesmerizing snow, falling uninterrupted, unhindered,
Envelop with cadence the entire universe around me.
I glimpse a life of multi-coloured hues,
In every snowflake I behold,
The inspiring dreams, the fervent hopes,
The intense ebullience, the solitary woes -
For ever crystallized. Winter creates
It's very best composition! I am lost in dance...
Softly to the hypnotic rhythm of the sonata!
Categories:
pellets, snow, winter,
Form:
Free verse
Into the sea spring tides of the river flow,
Out of sea tides does the rising moon glow.
Glittering waves roll on thousands of miles,
All rivers are robed by lunar beams in piles.
The river twists and turns around the green field,
Snow pellets on flowers the moon rays yield.
The air is frosted with the moonlight sensible,
The white sand on the islet is clearly invisible.
In one color the river merges with the dustless sky,
And in the azure dome the lonely moon rises high.
By the riverside who first saw the moon shine?
When did the moonlight first find a human sign?
Life runs on endlessly from generation to generation,
But the moon remains unchanged years in succession.
No one knows for whom the moon is there waiting,
Yet the river constantly sends off the water flowing.
Like a wondering cloud I parted with you in weep,
Leaving you standing at the ferry in sorrow deep.
Which family has a traveler in a boat tonight?
Who is lovesick in a boudoir lit by the moonlight?
The miserable moonlight moves up and down the stair,
But it should focus on the dressing table you prepare.
The moonshine on the curtain cannot be rolled away,
The beams on the washing-board are brushed but stay.
Gazing at the same moon we can’t converse through,
By moonlight I wish my sincere love could reach you.
The message goose cannot fly higher and farther,
Text-like ripples are written by fish’s jumping on water.
Last night I dreamed of the fallen flowers on the pond,
I couldn't go home although it is mid-spring beyond.
Even the river will soon run out of its spring tide,
Into the west the brilliant moon will finally slide.
Slowly the tilting moon hides itself in the sea haze,
And we’re thousands of miles apart with vain gaze.
How many enjoy reunion when the moon is bright?
On swaying trees the setting moon sheds woeful light.
(Tran.)
Categories:
pellets, love,
Form:
Rhyme
its tin metal somewhat mangled
from a moving van that fetched impairment
twisted signage of thin charm
tinged with seasonal blues
battered by brash snow, ice pellets, sombre rain
below a street lamp that nightly courts white moths
in fluttered fury
lofty sign, a perch for sparrows shaking off dust
above the humming hiss of a street
that throbs in summer heat
above the unfurling laughter of children
skipping rope
above the tangled banter of neighbors
who amble home,
pulled by comfort's zone
script of certainty, location defined
by a battered street sign, it's endless gaze
that knows the rhythm and pitch
of life laboring
below
Written July 25, 2021
Categories:
pellets, appreciation, city, life, seasons,
Form:
Free verse
A sad time for children in foreign parts
that have no Target stores to be lost and found in.
Sad for inflatable Santa's gunned down by B.B pellets.
For all the children, pets and reindeer that do not make
the last fuzzy bit of the six p.m. news.
I’m working on my happiness, not forcing anything,
being considerate
to people and their wrong opinions -
it’s what the baby Jesus would want.
In the stores, I avoid Christmas music by singing
badly and loudly.
Categories:
pellets, poetry,
Form:
Free verse