Best Sashes Poems
"Puzzle Stomped"
Pieces scattered
placed on a table
with boundaries
between
the incarcerated margins
there are strict conditions
Time drips
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted
imperfectly
perfect
towards upwards
new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication
behind her veil
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses
holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded
the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to
free the redressed vicissitudes
to undress the crisp breeze of her
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets
gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes
Somewhere,
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle,
cutting tall poppy
each step she takes
towards her freedom gate
In his hands he cups
the hidden
missing piece
The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep
along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime
their spelt magic
grows majestically spoilt
seeded from a sweet perfume
conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged
off all the slippery knaves
and wax-sealed pages
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings
turn into suffocating
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces
She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints
for a new road home
He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song
the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance
thundering over a stormy mind grows
patch worked with glassed-in
jarred ghost bees, the old
puzzle of a story stomped on
He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time
Beyond takes her hand
And sensually whispers
along all her fairest fears
sweeping all pieces off her
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable
forgotten
left lacking
on the harsh floor
Cum dederit
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas
to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung
the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon
Time for a new story
He says darkly
and swiftly closes
Past’s door.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Frightened by the darkness of this eerie night
Crystal eyes cracked, by the horror of its sight
A phantom amid the forest of these petrified trees
Of barrened branches, stripped of their leaves....
Taunting eyes filled with fire, flames, as he soon does approach
Souls dripping, from the sickle of this host!
Hansel and Gretal lost, along the trails which encumber the most?
Startled by the sight, of this ghoulish ghost
And now, dashing through the woods as they run for their lives
Yet to no avail has become, the destiny of their plight....
These stories foretold, that could find no passage through
The sinful groves, which had waited upon the two!
Since their longings and their doings, that had led them to this place
Knarled and twisted, blood, soon to be spilling from their fates....
Thorn pierced panes, exploding amid these driving rains
And sliver broken sashes, which shiver within their blues
Afore these vertical visions, of had they only knew!?
This echoing laughter; while the pages do bleed
Hansel and Gretals fairy tale, tainted, amongst their darkened deeds....
No longer searching, for their ginger bread house
As the taste of doom awaits, their wanton, and delicious dates....
Screaming as you now awaken, from this foreboding dream
Christie Moses, its now your turn, to warn....So, let it be!?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Petrified Forest!
A Note: "Thank You, 'Beautiful Charma Charmaine,'
For The Opportunity, To Play!!!" ~
Ouzo, oh ouzo,can make your head verily spin
But it made me feel like I was morphing into Aphrodite's twin!
And, more potent were your eyes stare and long eyelashes.
Dancing the Greek soldiers dance, OPA and in proud sashes.
Decades down life’s river, in the boat of life, we are one .
I close my eyes, still humming ‘Thessaloniki” loud and strong.
In a blue and white colored dream, I still caress your hand,
As we did long ago to a taunting, lively Bozouki band.
I shall blow out the gardenia candle and say good-night,
Loving you was, and is, forever~my soul’s precious delight..
Agape mou!
Panagiota
Notes on Ouzo!
Miracle Anise-flavored drink that can only be made in Greece
As of 2006, it received the EU-approved………………………..
PCO-Protected Country of Origin!
Butterfly wing door vestibule builds anticipation
Shuffled, carpet muffled greetings, familiar embraces
Piloted by Holy Spirit, seated hushed congregation
Ritual of ornate cathedral thanks hidden crypt rib cage
Enduring centuries, pliable sandstone testiment
God's following holds time proof tenacity
Flared proud corners, pyramid reminiscent
Honour continues amidst shifting society
Solid oak panelled door on wrought iron hinges
Greets round barrel key bearer with ominous groan
Down four slouching stone steps from street edge
Solo visit in sacred space never partaken alone
Curved bookcases cater for leather bound learning
Volumes of theology define best ways
Nook with desk lets liturgist imbibe God's word
Tall back chair, acorn emblems engraved
Beneath majestic vessel, clay damp chamber
Rhubarb velvet curtain, tassel tied to sides
Strongest entity relies on the Lord as Saviour
With worship's dedication, faith survives
In expansion, searcher emerges at alter, cleansed
Hive of etched arches tribute precision architectural
Vibrant robes, sashes draped, silken beacons
Of preparation, celebration of overcoming, renewal
Pulpit's ingrained memory both daunting and welcoming
Deep set lead light showers sombre pews in intimacy
Haloed Christ holds baby, shares parables with children
Crease covered hymn books strum procedural symphony
Written July 2020 (no previous submission)
Submitted for : Brian Strand
Completely New Volume 23
on 18th August 2020
From cloud-wells
Pour forth a quench--
And parting
Leave behind
rainbow high:
Our reach for heaven,
Extracting color
drawn from deep
enchanting sky…
Added dewdrops of
Fairy wings;
(Tints are flirting
Fluttering lashes)
Texture of silky, swirling
Web-sashes,
perennials of infinite dye;
We are Blossom Children--
Deep roots eternal
Not in soil,
But the maker of fertile-base;
His beds, earth and sky;
Of His many worldly petals
you and I--
Unfolding, our journey of ripeness;
Bearing fruits from bitter to sweet;
As blooms gathering all brightness
In service of gardens,
Forever Bouquets
a selfless treat….
Picture on the Parlor Wall 9-27-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sampler on the Parlor Wall
Shadows born from dawdling light
Stretch across a firelit room set with porcelain cups,
From tea parties long ago and faraway,
With an invitation to sample sweets and savories
Like the sampler on the parlor wall.
Beneath neat rows of alphabets stories gather,
Verses stitched with silk and dreams
And numbers that taught a woman’s craft –
A child’s wishes fly with birds and lady bugs –
Wishes to convince a suitor at the door of her wifely worth
In tidy stitches foreshadowing an orderly life.
A young lady-girl in pantaloons and blue sashes
Weaves circles of symphonic dots in French wheels
While lazy daisy chains meander on her linen fields -
Magic flares in her zigzag lines, her wishes on wooly stars.
No signature remains from her little hand -
Her hearth, her home, her heart –
Only a legacy of butterflies and roses sampled on a parlor wall
And a tiny scarlet dot of imperfection like a signature remains
Embroidered into a sampler embracing each dawn and dusk.
Once upon a time...
Once upon a time, in France, a storyteller fella
Wrote of a girl named Cinderella,
Meant as a fairy tale romance.
Her daddy died when she was young, and she was forced to share his riches
With three monumental b****es,
A most unhappy circumstance.
For years her stepmom and stepsibs made her perform a menial's duty,
And as she blossomed into beauty,
They grew more hateful, mean, and cruel.
Each night they dined on fine cuisine and wore lace dresses with silk sashes,
While she wore rags begrimed with ashes,
And got just crusts of bread and gruel.
Then one day a herald from the king demanded entry
To the homes of landed gentry,
They were invited one and all.
It was the prince's eighteenth birthday, and the king and queen were harried
Because their son was not yet married.
Ergo, the reason for the ball.
The stepsisters primped and preened and wild excitement they exuded,
When Cindy asked to be included, they gaped at her as if appalled.
Stepmother sneered, "Look here, I'll show you!"
With self-righteous indignation,
"Your name's not on the invitation.
Just we elite are so installed."
So Cinderella went downstairs to seek some solace in the kitchen,
But 'stead of sittin' there and b****in', she started dancing with a broom.
She whirled and twirled around the floor,
Or else she'd stand there, gently swaying,
As if an orchestra was playing
Pretending they were bride and groom.
And then a flash, a crash of thunder, and to Cindy's stunned amazement,
There gliding through the kitchen casement,
A pudgy lady dressed in blue.
She said, "Hello, my dear, no fear, I'm here to grant your secret wishes,
I'll wave my wand and clear the dishes,
And make a princess out of you!"
She waved and tapped and flicked and zapped,
And what she seemed to make the air do
Was give her make-up, nails, and hair-do,
And then to make the look complete,
Out of those rags so soiled and worn and far too torn to drown a cat in,
A gown of gossamer and satin, and crystal slippers on her feet.
Without this timely intervention, Cindy's tale might have been tragic.
Could she have managed without magic,
And her dilemma be resolved?
But everybody knows what happened with a gourd and six white mice,
And how a smudgy scullery maid was made to clean up really nice,
When a fairy got involved.
To be continued...
Woman of rationality
not known to all men.
Countess of Mercia,
scent of a woman.
Lover of masses,
dream of sashes.
In anticipation
no other man tried,
Wooing the coveted one
fear of life taunts
nobody ever haunts.
A modest woman she was,
a clean woman that was.
Up in the hills
travels without fear,
down the hills she fills
with her voice people hear.
In many trails
she hops and drills.
In open seas
she crave for krills.
Strong woman thinks all,
grown woman walks tall.
In each flight she makes
no man's plight is at stake.
Never wondered how hard life is
In an instant, life heals.
For the strong woman without fierce
no hurting arrows can pierce.
Savagery is not bravery
for any lass of Coventry.
Thinking of good deeds that last
no heroism will rust.
Aigrettes pose as nobility,
not for lass of simplicity.
Half of Leofric,
Piece of heroic.
Levy for serfs,
burden of turfs.
Then one day casted
a lean woman's body...
body of beauty,
honor of beauty.
How the heroine perished
nobody cherished.
A living legend she was,
a myth that never was!
Come with a smile,
come with a wink.
Come to the land
of pink, pink, pink.
Imagine
yourself
as a pale pink fairy,
wearing an earring
that's a pink clip-on,
and real pastel pink petals
held in your pinkie,
pointing to the pink chink
glow upon the horizon
at dawn.
The garden's dye this July
is floral pink blossoms.
And at times I do
have such pinkish dreams,
where everything is hued
in pink ice-creams.
Where I own a fine
posh pink cadillac,
parked in a pink chateau
festooned
with fallen pink lilac.
That,
overlooking
a pink sea
ebbing on pink pebbles,
where a pink moon
looks like big bubbles.
In pink colors,
if I could customize
'n'
personalize
my world:
so pink cushions all about,
and pink curtains unfurled!
My birthdays always wish
for pink balloons.
Oh, I love to decorate
and celebrate
with pink festoons.
And nature lovers could watch
salmon pink flamingoes
who stand upon one leg,
hiding
half their pink toes.
Or even bunny rabbit eyes
in bright pink glows.
Ah, pink's so feminine.
Think of pink hair pins,
pink lips 'neath two pink
blush cheeks,
right above cute
chinny chins,
or as buds in a rosebush
take pinkish peeks.
I see as well baby pink
frocks
and frilled pink socks,
and pink pom-pom caps
upon golden locks,
their pink sashes behind
them upon the walks.
Ah, I've always believed,
and still I think,
that pinkish is girlish and
girlish is pink.
Snowdrops falling into bloom, there's no need for mittens
Ladybugs on daisies, as playful as kittens
Lilacs and lilies awaken in spring
And dance to the melody of birds as they sing
Fragrance of brightly colored hyacinths
Leaves an aromatic imprint
The royal flight of the butterfly king
Regally floating on the winds of spring
A bevy of daffodils adorned in golden sashes
And tulips abound with colorful flashes
Hummingbirds hover for the nectar that brings
The sweet flavors of a beautiful spring
The rose will impose with beauty untold
And buttercups will glow in sunbeams of gold
Glasses of different shapes
Showing out various shapes
Glasses of distinct hues
Blowing out vague and clear-cut views
Mirrors of you in glasses
Like crystals molded in mashes
Furor, dolors, splendor in glasses
Like petals defoliating in sashes
Mirrors of you on hand
Reflections of you unveiled
With all mirrors of the world at hand
Imperfections of you unsealed
Tales of the pasts, stories unmasked
Events of time lapsed, memories basked
Mirrors of you from the past
Blowin' winds in cast
Mirrors of you everlasting
Tokens of you not flabbergasting
Mirrors of you on the rocks
Dusts of you sprinkled in blocks
You are what you are in mirrors
Fictional or not in errors
Mirrors of life are in you
Mirrors of you are all but one in you
Call me a DREAMER call me an IDEALIST. I want mass appeal.
I am a dreamer. As I think, my muse are heavy unclear
I fall asleep MY dreams are plenty starlit glistening seeming VIVID.
My Contemplation DEEP near daunting. I seek the best of BOUNTIES
steep, until I wake to count the trophies that I keep.
I refrain from CONSCIOUS tidings or else be accused of SHEEPLESS
SLEEP and JADED SCHEMES.
I am a dreamer listening to the pattering raindrops as I sleep I dream of
PEACH ORCHARDS and fields of VIOLET blades of GRASS. I dream of
PLATINUM sashes ample sample stashes of CHOCOLATE CANDY CANES
and tasty CARAMEL TREATS. I seek the finest shores Of the planet
UNTOUCHED islands GALORE.
I dream of IMMEASURABLE measures of TREASURE TROVES and other
Mundane riches never told, warm paradises spectacular surprises. I am the
Keeper of my dreams. I am a dreamer of RASPBERRY kisses
And PURPLE PASSION WISHES NOW
Moon light gleaming as I lull my weary body
Back to QUIET slumber
QUIET is the night.
Angels in furs so white
Brave voices as cool as sprite
Cheeks so red or pink
Delights your day without a wink
Endless care reserved for you
Flocking in troupe over you
Giggling over rainbows of you
Halos in head that cover you
In miles and miles they travel far
Junipers like trees watching your jar
Kept in jar, your fallen stars
Love in heart without scars
Moments in life they praise so loud
Novels of time you read aloud
Out of the blue angels come to life
Paints of you in real life
Quetzalcoatl may scare you
Remember angels are there for you
Serenading the depths of you
Telling stories of me and you
Under your pillow is a dream come true
Velvets and sashes that wrap in you
White you wear is your skin deep
Xisti of true colors you keep
Your white angels of time on grip
Zooming with God you trip
Dice and pieces, blown on trusses
Numbers and feathers, trots and roaming
Spice with dashes, thrown in sashes
Dots and wreaths, clots and breaths reeming
Pretty little princess
in bows and pink sundress
gifts and presents wondrous
year old today
Ribbons, sashes, ruffles
on floor crawls and shuffles
loud laughter and snuffles
childlike display
Mom and dad are so-so
lives changed a year ago
turned their whole world wacko
baby array
Parents hug each other
promise are still lovers
with a year now over
need time away
Grandparents blow kisses
friends and others wishes
party favor glitches
happy birthday
April 14, 2018
*Violette Poem Contest
By Mick Talbot
Second Place
*Violette is stanzaic, rhymed, unlimited quatrains, (in this contest minium 5), in the aaaB cccB and so on, feminine rhyming scheme. B is a linking rhyme from stanza to stanza.
Syllables, 6,6,6,4, per line.