Best Pinholes Poems
I could have cried like a bride at a funeral
Bled out, dry. I could have but I was already
dehydrated...I
i think of you
I wish someone could turn the
moon back on, turn the dimmer back up
on the stars. I can't stand these dark
black nights void of even one tiny ray
of light. I am tired of walking blind through
the evenings of my everyday life...I
i think of you
Yesterday I dreamt the night sky exploded.
Bright white pinholes of light appeared .
It was as if an invisible hand was holding a huge
Fourth of July sparkler against a waterfall of black gold.
I watched the oil well blaze. The whole Earth was on fire.
The world was burning hot. Without fear I walked through
the flames warm, comforted as if I was being held in his light...I
i think of you
Still in the grip of my sleep suddenly an ocean appears.
its water rises and shapes itself like the head of a dragon.
Its neck is shaped like a Chinese silk fan. At the same time
it is just a huge wave. The kind surfers expect to find in heaven.
There is nothing threatening about this apparition.
Quite the opposite like the fire it feels as if it is a part of me...I
i think of you
Do I miss you?
Miss you? I died with you!
There's a knock at my door but I'm not here.
Life's going to have to wait. I'm in hiding.
I feel safe inside my walls. In reality my bedroom light
is all the outdoors I need. It is my Sun. I hate here without you.
So I lie in my bed motionless starring into my nothingness and I...
i think of you
(Frozen!)
As time passes...introspective...I begin to understand.
The earth, the air, the fire, the water all the elementals are him.
(I begin to thaw!)
He is with me even in my ignorance he has never left me.
You can take the lord into your heart without a word by accepting his light.
(Slightly cold!)
A deeper, purer understanding. A trust that rejects the dark no
matter how black. I am a part of all, a part of one as you are. A part of me.
(Warm!)
I open my curtains...watch the dark exit
hurried as love rushes in. Firmly in his hold...I
I think of you...
Once again with you.
Fully! We...the power of one...I
I think of us.
The Beginning!
March 25 2015
Armand
CHRYSALIS
Sitting in silent reverence
I gaze upward towards your galaxy...
The endless canopy stretched out
Before all eyes...
An infinite splendor of
Light, energy, portals, stars
Mysterious unknown spaces
Silent notes fill my soul
Playing my heartstrings
Reminding me of ancient memories
Memories of...
Our journey together
Inside the chrysalis
I embrace you...
Growing together
Intertwined in color and form and design
We breathe as one
We expand and sprout into life
Preparing to fly
Birthing at the same moment
I reach my moist orange wing
Out into the calling air
As my outer shell falls away
Your wings move slowly
Drying in the breeze
Twins we are
Twin butterflies embarking on
Our journey upward
Rising and turning we ride
The warm air funnels
In joy and delight
We laugh in our own language
As moondust beckons us further
We melt into darkness
In an instant light is eclipsed
I can only see the glow
Of your eyes
Color is absent
Glow...Glitter...Reflection...Shine
Orbs of light and time above us
Blue Black transparent silk
With a million pinholes of light
Shining through
A nod to the Creator
How grand you are
How magnificent
Everything as it is...
Perfect intention and magnitude
With alignment of essence
To swim in the stars
To dive into the Milky Way
To ride a comet until its
Last breath of light dies
There is no greater gift
My heart sings and rejoices
For the consciousness of
This moment in time
Looking down on Mother Earth
I see her and I love her
I see her Creator hold her gently
Glittering webs of tears and light
Connect us
Galaxy and stars and earth...
We pulse together
We exhale together
We bleed together
We are one
1/18/2021
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (44)
any form any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor:Brian Strand
First Place (1 of 3)
"A woodland path in the dappled sun, hushed and quiet "
~A Rambling Poet~
A canopy of trees
filters the sun for me,
and I am grateful...
For I do not feel like
having the rays glare
in my eyes today,
in a brooding mood I am.
The earth is damp,
drunken with dew,
seemingly commiserating
with me
I lay myself down,
jagged rocks beneath me
--cutting, rough--
and I welcome it
For it grounds me,
a reminder
that not everything
is sunlight and blooms
I sink in my darkness
and close my eyes
to dwell in it and drown,
just sighing
For an eternity,
I am mired with
muck and moss in my mind,
thoughts eroding
to nothingness
...until I open my eyes
to Wonderment
The trees above me
stand tall and proud
in their radial glory,
the sun just
breaking through,
shimmering, dappling
my cold being
Leaves gilt with light
blink back in awe
and I am floored,
blanketed by warmth
of hushed spirits
surrounding me
These trees
tell their tales
of growth and survival,
of yearning for
that light,
of their struggle
to catch a glimpse
of heaven...
of capturing
its light,
using it,
feeding off from it,
in order to
give back to others
some of them stumble
yet most of them
succeed
I am humbled.
I am awed.
Yes, the canopy
gave me shade,
temporary darkness
from the light,
I look up again
and realize
that the tiniest
pinholes of hope exist,
reaching deep within...
little sparks
that set off
a chain reaction
of life
--June 11-12 (2011)
Starkle, Starkle Little Twink
Starkle, starkle little twink
what the hell you are, I think
tantalizing hanging moon
rocking chair or empty spoon.
Twinkle, twinkle, ain’t you cute
glitter on night’s darkest suit,
jewels upon an evening’s gown
tiara mate to kingly crown.
Needle point of heaven’s face
pinholes poked in deepest space
eyes that watch us from afar
twinkle, twinkle, little star.
submitted to – Twinkle Twinkle Little Star – contest
sponsor – Kelly Deschler
Paper spiders everywhere
Crawling through pinholes in my brain
Cutting the corners of my mouth
Tartaric taste curls my tongue
Forming words I would never say
An inferno of verbs
Flying through gutted roots
It’s warm butter to a blade
Until the right ones land and spread
That's when they begin to ricochet
You’re only hurting yourself.
That’s what they tell me anyway
I’m a dirt digging plant
Living in the embers of memories
That took decades to slowly fade
Put out in tiny doses
On a slow drip of acid rain
It’s the smell of melting gospel
Revealing monstrosities
Awoken from pits of smothered rage
It’s inhumane
To mistreat animals like this
Yet they do nothing
As innocence is stripped away
Some of us still live in cages
Gnashing teeth
Snapping necks at the end of chains
Some of us still live in the embers
Feeling a burn that never fades
I’m recording scars in tree rings
As bark covers wounds with age
Building cages for the demons
Nesting in my conjured rage
When she stepped up to hold my hand, pale faced,
something to tell me, I needed to know,
three words 'I love you' now had been replaced
with 'I am pregnant', plus a bump to show.
My mind and heart and soul all took long strides
in seconds from my youth to fatherhood,
the conflict of emotions felt inside
tempered by promises of something good.
We shopped and browsed for baby clothes and toys,
not thinking about pink or powder blue,
she felt a bonny girl, I wished for boy,
but healthy, really, either one would do.
The answer came, crying, after midnight,
one January, nineteen eighty-eight,
five pounds eight ounces, mother held her tight,
time stopped, we lived for now, future could wait.
In retrospect, I wish the future had-
it brought presents which I did not expect,
like bitterness and pain, daughter and dad
now torn asunder, all foundations wrecked.
Nine years since we last spoke, I do recall,
pinholes where photos hung upon the wall.
For contest 'Joys and tears of being an expectant parent', sponsor Olive Eloisa Guillermo.
15th July 2018
you will long for this, Chemist,
i am sure.
inhale.
thicker than your skin,
whiter than the pupil of your eyes.
gush into your arteries,
it's pinholes, and pins,
and pin ticks, and stings.
from your foot,
(I was familiar with),
to your thighs,
above your ribs,
inside the chambers of your heart.
hold it!
barricade your spine,
this is not your usual migraine.
you will long for this, Chemist.
this is love.
this is nitrogen.
Worst case scenario-
Well it's good to see someone woke up early and slathered on his hair, greeted the morning media in his aristocratic lair. Re-education within 140 characters. Staring through pinholes of the crumbling façade. Enlightenment so apparent, beyond a brick wall. United we conquer, divided we fall. Holocaust breath, and alternative facts. Promised us a future and then stabbed us in the backs.
It's going to take a lot more than razor wire wrapped around a prison fence to cure you of old-school cognitive dissonance. Bought out the country and spared no expense. I named my bullets, Donald Trump, Lying Ted, and Mike Pence.
Enlightenment so apparent, beyond a brick wall. United we conquer, divided we fall. Contaminated water and corrupted contracts. Grab you by the pussies then stab you in the backs.
All this gas lighting has us questioning our sanity, as you create the propaganda of mediocrity and banality. We should string you up from the highest Willow, a bullet to salvation, put you to sleep on a stone pillow. We are the children destroying the houses of our fathers, leaving our future children in nothing but squalor. Where do we go from here? Starving in a nation of fear. Radioactive Climate and nuclear warfare. Where do we go from here?
Enlightenment so apparent, beyond a brick wall. United we conquer, divided we fall. Emasculating comments and alternative facts. Grab you by the pussies then stab you in the backs. How else do you expect us to react? How else do you expect us to not fight back?
Family photographs.
Pictures of youth,
All smiling happily,
Hiding the truth …
Grandads at work,
Grandmas in rocking chairs.
Dads in their gardens,
Mums, taken unawares …
Pinholes in the fabric of time.
Aunties and uncles,
Siblings and cousins;
Some of them all alone,
Others by the dozen …
Summers by the sea,
Weddings, holidays.
Winters by the fire,
Birthdays, school-days …
Pinholes in the fabric of time.
Faces familiar.
Faces we’ll never know.
Some who are still around:
Others, now shadows …
On little scraps of paper,
Monochrome and misty,
A Mum sees her life …
But her children see history …
Pinholes in the fabric of time …
Pinholes in the fabric of time.
Why are there stars, Grandma?
Well, darling. At night, God gets tired
And before sitting to relax
He turns on the show in the sky
It starts with a colorful sunset
Then as the sky turns dark
He lights many flickering candles
But why, Grandma?
It makes God happy to sit back and enjoy His creation
He wants to share it with all men, women and children
So the diamonds in the sky will belong to everyone equally
What do you mean, Grandma?
The big black sky is full of little pinholes
That let us peek at the brightness of the other side
What’s the other side, Grandma?
Well, stars remind us of our loved ones
Since our souls return to heaven when
We’re done down here on earth
Like great-grandma and great-grandpa
That’s where they have their new home
Really, Grandma?
Yes. Go to sleep now, my little one
With this magic kiss on your cheek
Let your soul travel through the night and visit
Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa among the stars
But I don’t remember them, Grandma.
They remember you, darling
And they love your nightly visits
Good night, my little darling
Good night, Grandma.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
At the traffic dodged broken barrier
My clown eclipses pinholes gander
Reeked in the phallic sundust
Pouring out in putrid urgencies
Human beams of ghastly thought
Clinging to lucrative belly rings
Bastion of glowing hope tied to rope
Losing abundance in American swamps
As we creek our bells across the world
Drowning coca cola babies all the same
Puns, cliques, and gospel truants
I am fearless to step on statues
To heckle hairdos and smeckle bear feuds
So this is my house still standing where others have fallen:
There is still the light of love inside the room,
Peering through pinholes, our professor, for twenty- four
Years called it peace,love and unity, a philosophy of virtues,
While savouring his moments of speech on madaraka day.
He had a sense of humour, our man. He could make people laugh
Even when they had tears in their eyes and grief in their guts.
His words opiate the mind like religion. You could earn some
Perks too if you could knock doors of the godfathers
Who lived in the greater shadows of the house on the hill.
I had sheltered under this illusion for years, if only to
Sooth my soul in the glaring savannah of my arid life, reading
The landscapes of calloused hands and pallid faces.
When elnino came i could scurry to my home, standing on
Tin sheets and rafters, ants on the floor, the doors
Keep no snails away; my abode binds me like a bad debt.
My other brother is a sonko; his house, stone and slate, the strengths
Of my hands. Walls and floors that slide snails. Lacquered landscapes
And green gardens so wide that his children play tennis on the lawns.
Egrets have company, he has got a cow in the compoud. I gather he
Could wrap stolen fat in the canopy of trimmed grass too. My house holds history, but Hope still latched on its door frame. Tomorrow I too, will rise in the rain, my shovel
Speaks for me. I earn my pride and measure my prize in one brimful palm.
streaks of pale yellow
a hollow chuckle
what to do
what to say
tremolo hummingbird
sounds redundant
too many
too few
observing a picture painted
shards of green
porcelain fast cracking
into dust powder
underfoot altitude
compressed into silence
uncertain mystery
is safer than
what?
nothing is mysterious
judging the judgments
fearing the best case scenario
telling the same story
endless listening
hearing little
rocks in a foamy wave of noise
standing up and recognizing
puddles instead of oceans
placing pinholes into
blue black
frame fitted for discomfort
infinite identification
purple window
to grain mountain
hill crest
spattered with honey
crumpled newspaper
tumbling down
then up
then down
whistle the circus song
pretend
it will all be over soon
pensacola fl
5 dec 2015
Eyeballing you as a
sticky bun; pondering how
to reach out without
getting stuck.
"Perhaps it’s the flare of the
Season, or more primal
reasons, but I find
obsession in the chase, if you
don’t mind the pursuing."
Your lashes flutter in
exasperation, twin Venus
Flytraps stretching before
consuming,
those pinholes inside lick the
air around me, scanning
risk and prospect within such
veiled intent.
"Are your legs prepared for the
pumping, is your ardor
thumping to torch my
feverous mortal thrill, or shall
doubt guide your undoing?"
I load my quiver without
malice, aware splendor is
never afraid of
vast effort.
Visualize the interaction of the energies of people’s lives as pinholes and pendulums.
Shimmers reflecting streaks of god’s light
Through pinhole instances
Which illuminate the infinite,
Defiant night.