Best Rocks Poems
I dance upwards;
below me,
the waves slap the cliffs
and beat the rhythm.
Wind whipped clouds gallop
with flying manes
across the blue plain of the sky.
The wild geese resent
our intrusion;
honking displeasure,
they swoop a warning:
we are guests here.
Amid the cedar fragrance
of summer and freedom,
I lean back
into the arms of the world.
Whiskey on the rocks, advised by my doc
combats dementia, so bring on the blocks
no need for a glass; I'll have me the bottle
with a big bowl of ice this baby I'll throttle
The whiskey's gone, now a brandy'd be fine
my inside's on fire, there's a hoop up my spine
swigging from the bot comes at a price
I'll temper the fire with whole blocks of ice
The flames have been doused; rum, if you please?
my head's in a clamp; ice will loosen the squeeze
now, be a sport and pile on the ice
two bowls or more I think should suffice
Three bottlesh down, all on the rocksh
my tootshiesh are shtarting to curl in my shocksh
my shmile is chemented, my lipsh glued together
my fashe the feel and texture of leather
Twishe left, thrishe right my head ish shwinging
short, long, short, long my earsh are zinging
either I'm crosh-eyed or my brainsh have been fried
elsh why are my legsh by three multiplied?
I'm freefalling on shixh feet firmly earthed
alternating twixht lower and then upper berth
vocal chordsh tangled, shizhably crimped
I'm walking with a lishp and talking with a limp
I'm teetering-tottering or tettering-tortering
I've no clue which ish which and given up wondering
the world ish a blur; I musht be plarshtered
the liquor went down well; ishe warsh the barshtard
On all foursh – nay, twelve, I reach the bed
now I'm pondering and shcratching my head:
am I waking up or about to retire?
I shimply topple over, my whole being on fire
In the Land of Nod I'm harnessed by tether
in comely dreams of cowboys and leather
when plagued by a swishy feel in my bladder
swelling as fast as a pregnant puffadder
Abruptly awakened when a stream emanated
unable to move, still intoxicated
stuck to my bed and severely drenched
nausea ensued in the encompassing stench
How my stomach reacted I'd best not relate
suffice to say it was a full freight
soiled and hung-over, a word of advice:
liquor's fantastic but steer clear of ice
I have a small gray rock placed by my bed
Each day it is the first thing which I see.
It stands on guard and watches over me.
Alone a gray, smooth rock, it stands on guard
Well weathered, polished stone, from wind-blown sand.
It was wind-blown and lost in dust of time.
I found this stone near covered with such sand.
It had lain lost, I think, since time began.
Without another rock to call a friend.
There was no other rock, one stone alone.
The God of sand, I may well keep this thought.
No other stone to judge its size I found.
I thought at first it was a grain of sand
One stone alone, in all this sand and lost.
This stone would save me form this sea of sand.
My guarding rock this rock became my friend.
My rock I love and loves me back, my stone.
It sits, it guards me, guards me from the thought--
I am alone in all this sea of sand.
Caressing the mind
And kissing
Glossy, smooth stones
Liquid rippling
Flowing over the bed
Hues of taupe
Sand and charcoal
With hints of lavender
Coloring the emotions
Wistful, willful, warm
Like the flavor
Of a rising storm
Resting on the sand
Brilliant like the sunshine
Glowing in moonlight
Smooth stones
Risking their stability
In the currents
Gracefully pouring
Along the edge
Of an emerald forest
Pines, oaks and birch
A leaf dancing
In the starry flames
Night’s radiance
Whispering to souls
In prayers of faith
Discovered on
The winds of a day
Bought by the songs
Of wren and robin
Frogs on mossy stones
Beckoning to the
Promise of rainfall
Smooth, lasting stones
Layered on shores
Of rivers and creeks
Awakening the bare feet
To memories
Of childhood days
Spent wading, playing
In the clear, cool waters
Alive with sinuous fluid
Waters surging, rolling
Across the mind
Who delights in praising
The Creator who
Rests these stones
Upon the shores
Of hope and faith
Love which praises
As it slides
Across the surface
Of these fluent waves
Both agile and gracious
Molding the stones
In their favor
L Contest
Even Rocks Can Cry
Even rocks wear away with time
and the demands of strength. These
seemingly immoveable objects,
deflectors of life’s raging torrents,
sun warmed seats of contemplation,
bearers of past high and low water marks.
Unnoticed, they sit as observers, watching
as time passes through their moment,
aware, yet unaware, of the softening of
edges, the smoothing of an old, once
craggy face, resigned to the river’s
changing moods, the wind’s cold chaffing,
the sun’s yellow soothing, the moon’s cool
silver chill and the cleansing joy of
a spring rain. Yes, these rocks, these
anchors, depended on for guidance,
for protection, for the memory of
the splashing joy of youth. These rocks
when left too long grow lonely,
shed an unseen tear. For even rocks
can cry.
2/17/2014 --125 words
(Seen at the aquarium)
Eye to eye
in a stony embrace,
two rockfish kissing,
face to face.
.
when darkness falls
shadows serenade
upon moonlit walls
and my eyes close
as i bid farewell to day
sweet dreams
cannot come
when hand from grave
rocks you back
through life's storms
i was bound to the hand
that rocked the cradle
my ship in stormy seas
slapped on the face
yet not by waves
but tasted saltwater
just the same
chilled to bare bone
then swept away
by wind of warmth
apologies?
an aftermath of storms
an unexpected pause
until the next red tide
bore my name
chained fast
to this diligent life
i longed to break free
from this anchor
that weighed me down
i swam against the tide
yet i was rocked
knocked back
through life
though tides have since parted
and seas are more calm
the taste of saltwater
still lingers
its bitterness
in my mouth
my mind
in bondage
cries out in pain
as hand from grave
rocks the cradle again
By Carolyn Devonshire
casting my line from a rock jetty
sad, high-pitch cry I hear
glance around, see no one
cast again but the cry echoes
as if reverberating in the rocks
fishing pole I lay down
now searching every crevice
suddenly a wee feline springs forth
mewing alone atop the stone
from where she emerged, I look down
a litter of six cradled by their mama
so thin the mother cat appears
no food nearby and tears fill my eyes
return to my cooler, retrieving three trout
place them in the cranny
mama cat meows softly
no thanks were needed
feeding frenzy begins for the kittens
mama cat remains still, but purrs
providing nourishment for her clan
more important than feeding herself
wish the brotherhood of man could learn from mama cat
cries of hunger go unheard
*Entry for Michael’s “Sounds of a Cry” contest
Based on a true experience
Charlie Brown got rocks
In his Halloween treat sack...
Snoopy made them friends
Sing to the tune of Jingle Bell Rock:
Summertime, summertime, summer time rocks.
Summertime comes and kids yell hurrah.
Bikin’ and swimmin’ at some park’s big pool;
in the summertime, no more school!
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime’s fun when school is all done.
Playin’ and stayin’ in summer time’s mood,
good times are pursued!
Barbecue time is a great time
with family outdoors.
Barbecue time is the best time
to roast hot dogs and to have s’mores!
Oh what fun – here it comes – Fourth of July -
summer time’s big event.
Picnics, parades, and then watchin’ the sky
for the fireworks’ ascent.
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime comes and kids yell hurrah.
Bikin’ and swimmin’ at some park’s big pool;
in the summertime, no more school!
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime’s fun when school is all done.
Playin’ and stayin’ in summer time’s mood,
good times are pursued!
Disneyland or the beach – fun times for all.
Hosing down, lose those socks!
Baseball and snow cones and havin’ a ball.
That’s 'cause summertime,
that’s 'cause summertime,
that’s 'cause summertime rocks!
While Climbing the Rocks
Through trees and rains and
Lakes I have lived, but today I shall remember,
Remember the child who climbed rock mountains,
Shutting out the city sounds and,
Music of wind cuddling foothills and dreams.
Dreams of a log cabin and dreams of love,
With someone to share the quiet of the dove;
Puttering with pursuits, watching horned toads play,
On the side of a mountain looking away.
Pet Rocks Don't Snore
Every ten years or so I rewrap my pet rock
In tin foil to keep it safe and secure
Then place it back in freezer storage
Unwanted guests visit after midnight sometimes
They steal my rock from cold storage while I sleep
Night stalkers think, it is a roll worth buttering and eating
Place it in the microwave to thaw it
But it won’t thaw
At breakfast they complain to me
I tell them to dip it in their coffee
Go ahead! Dunk it! Dunk it some more! I say
After breaking teeth
A dentist visit is in order
Unwanted guests leave my rock in peace
Learning it is not a treat
Pet rocks don’t go to war
More importantly, they don’t snore
They are kept in the refrigerator
That is what pet rocks are for
what candle pressed against the wind
a winding trail unfolds
down the cliffside
into the storm
where a treasure lies to behold
a thousand jagged teeth
Peirce the roiling spew
a promise of paradise
the desperate never knew
and down the cliff should you falter
lose your balance and fall
in hopes of happy ever after
soon never after all
Good Evening and Good Day to all my PS friends
This Poem is based on one of my recently made Painting presenting the true beauty of Nature.
The Immense Beauty of Nature.
Was spread out in front of me,
The immense beauty of nature,
On the slopes of high mountains,
Deodar and trees with yellow leaves trees were standing,
The image of the breathtaking color of those trees,
Was touching the sky with its unique beauty,
It was not only alluring the earth was pulling the heaven towards it,
I became emotional and wanted to get carried away in those moments,
Where among the blue stone rocks,
Those standing trees were talking to the sky,
That sweet singing and music dear to the ear of the river,
Was telling everyone,
The immortal song of that beauty. 01
The river was flowing slowly in the valley floor in front of me,
The stream of that river too has its own music of yesterday,
Got into tune with the lonely trees,
Was engrossed in composing a heavenly music. 02
But I was thinking,
Amidst this immense beauty,
I being a sailor from Ganges,
How will I be able to sail my boat?
Amidst these flowing small and big rocks,
The boat on which I make people sit to cross the river Ganges,
I make them cross the river singing my songs,
How will she be able to move here? 3
Ravindra K K
Kanpur India 18th Feb. 2024
"On the rocks?", the bartender called,
As I asked for a double Scotch,
To revive my spirits keel-hauled.
By my sleepy shift on night-watch.
On the rocks the liquid gold poured
Making the cold hard ice cubes clink.
Drowner of sorrows, now on board,
Dismay was dragged back from the brink.
On the rocks the ship did flounder
With no stormy tempest in sight,
With watch asleep, the rocks found her,
Not at night, but in broad daylight.
On the rocks now, the storms will rage,
Mercilessly blasting their might,
Building seas, to roaring rampage,
Defying quaffs to set things right.
On the rocks, becalmed distraction
Leaves sails flapping, wanting a breeze
Postponing the need for action,
To get relief and be at ease.
On the rocks, cold as cubes of ice,
Enticing Scotch will not suffice.