Best Quietens Poems

The trail was long and very dusty
great clouds churned up by hooves
of the vast herd being wrangled on
300 more miles of eating their dust

Bandana's tightly wrapped round faces
cries of "get up there" ringing out
bawling calves separated from mothers
hiss of hot branding irons scorching

A rumbling constantly...

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On a grassy bank beside a trickling stream
I view her ebony locks of which I've dreamed

Naked she is bathing in translucent crystal clear
As I long for her shapes to shadow me near

This short distance between us in natures surround
For soon we will be in clinch...

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I lie back in the weather-proofed green chair
To gaze up at the flowering maple tree.
Now, touched by sun,lungs full of scented air
I embrace with joy the beauty I now see.

Old celandine show brightly by my feet
Neglected currant bushes straggle round the path
There is no birdsong...

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This worrying view
Today on earth
Is it the end of life
For all it's worth

An angry sky
Overhead
Cold blues
Atmosphere dead

Clouds of gas
From interstellar space
Stratosphere breached
Alien face

But out of the hue
A face in the clouds
Nebula seeker
Her shroud crowds

This nebulae
Of particle dust
Energy of gas
The seeker combusts

Angry exchange
In our skies above
Two...

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Grief is so unimaginable painful it cant be explained,
To lose someone you love so much is unfeigned,
Once grief comes knocking at your front door, 
Entering your life, It doesn't plan to stay as a guest
In fact grief intends on staying until you reach your eternal...

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An early awakening, to relish the sun rise,

The warmth it brings into my heart suppressing cries,

Sharing and chatting over coffee with my adorable sunshine,

Heart filled laughter and lovingly touching, so sublime,

Our openness to each other, no longer false but true,

Her beautiful smile and sense of...

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Sitting watching a June summer king establish his reign over hazy hills and dusty dales,
I could just hear a sharpened scythe's ring across green fields cutting away at the corn,
With the hustle and bustle of the annual hay-harvesters bringing home a brand new season,
Happy sunburned...

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Listen to the distant call of the laughing Kookaburras,
no longer raucous as distance fades.
The evening sky, quietly blushing pink,
caressed with whispering, transparent clouds.

Such is the beauty, the imagination, of Nature,
as it quietens your heart and slows your pulse.
What-ever else can quieten your soul?
as your rhythm...

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The eastern seaboard
Of the United States
As the sisters three
Evil dictates
 
Population massed
As the floods rise
Lands disappearing 
Is the earth in demise
 
In typical fashion
We fight amongst ourselves
For higher ground
A higher shelf
 
Woman and children
Allegedly first
Money changes
It's the size of the purse
 
The frenzy quietens
As the...

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The scorching soil seemed seamless
For the drooping-headed ones
Tongues tell the tales
The thirsty throats fail to utter:
Spotted, sored, nightmarish
Gazing at the slowly sliding soil
Stars of the faces are dimmed,
Lighting no more the darkening dreams
Feeding no more the wearying wings
Yet the oasis lies near

Its beckoning shimmer heave
Behind...

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As darkness descends and the sun bows her glow
Starlings flock in multitude search
To perch and roost as their day is done

Sporadic lights appear all around
As if humans have come to life
Their shadows glance past translucent spaces

Sky diamonds appear through the blackening expanse
As solid surfaces glisten,...

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By: Ckolwethu Mthethwa

For this poetry serves as my medication...
A Prescription I take so in my mind there can be a separation 
Between what's real and my overthought delusions
Best part Is I can never overdose on these stanzas 
My soul  consumes them infinitely, still my body...

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The moon rises like a vacant memory
In the pitch black skies
That sabotage my mind.

Demons are inside my head
They fill my mind with lies
They tease,
They flaunt,
They float,
They haunt,
They make me want to break the ties.

Darkness closes in on me
Drowning me in blame.
It strips me of my...

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"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, 
but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary 
as bread in the pockets of the hungry."         ~Mary Oliver.



Poetry is...

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The bars of my self made prison tremble
My world begins to shake
Nothing is as it seems 
The cracks in the cage grow larger

I start to sink
Enveloped by the darkness
The light begins to dim
The darkness welcomes me like an old friend

I dont fight it anymore 
I...

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