Best Shallows Poems
I bent over to touch my toes
and the ground tore open like a backbone.
I tried to feed myself the sky;
to splice my tearducts into the universe
so that, when the pavement cried, it would mean something to me.
My fingernails punctured that slimy membrane
congealed with stars,
and I brought a slice of it to my lips,
hot and slippery like a jellyfish.
Peach juice, chalky-sweet, flowed,
fleshy particles snagged in my teeth,
and the colors erupted within my mouth.
Synthesia took over my lungs.
The hollows between my knuckles flooded with synovia
and all the ectoplasm threatened to separate from my cells
with a sound like thunder.
Diphthong tasted rusty like leukoplakia as it tiptoed across my tongue.
Tomorrow rose like the skeletons of trees,
groping for a feeling similar to catharsis
[catharsis tender as the broken wings of doves,
crunching underfoot like shattered glass.]
The clouds opened their thunderous maws
- teeth snicker-snacking, lamplight-eyes flaming the color of E#'s -
and consumed me.
I felt my skin turn to something other than skin:
thick and rough with scales,
my fingerprints melting into something waxen, smooth and opaque,
like pomegranate kisses on coffee mugs.
A feeling ignited deep in my structure;
cedillas blossoming like lilies from my lips,
fragmented sentences stretching taut as guitar strings
between my thumb and forefingers.
A flutter gentle and demonic as Calcifer erupted from my system
- splattering hot and frothing into my hand -
and fluid rushed in.
I dared to taste oblivion,
and the sky swallowed me.
My lungs failed to be lungs.
They flooded with caustic matter,
and I coughed up reflections sharp as fiberglass;
fighting with organs phthisical and sore.
I struggled to find a way to describe it:
the feeling of consuming something greater than yourself,
of opening your eyes and tasting the sound of rain.
It was like swimming,
but inside out.
I bent over to touch my toes,
and my spine tore open;
the loose laces unraveling, veterbrae poking out
like the tines of forks.
I tried to contort myself into the beginning,
but I only found where I end.
Wrapped around is your crimson lace
The confidence walks at a trusted pace
Your seekers stare through a mountain of lies
Hoping to find a soul that flies
Oh but there’s magic inside what cries
Beads of moisture don’t always follow misery
A strong embrace can be so comforting
Looking just past the time holder
Is a life less colder
The smell of the oak and the whisper of wind
Shows the pages of life to begin
Contrary to those who believe in the norm
You follow your heart ever since you were born
Death makes life worth living
Only once can we swim in the shallows
But yesterday is tricky cause it hurts to remember
But your strength pushed you through to December
With your chin held high
You’re ready to fly
To a place beyond the cold tremors
Death makes life worth living
Only once can we swim in the shallows
Wade
Float
Dive
Splash
Drench
Swim
Surf
Spit
Deep in the shallows...
Water lapse with time...
Yesterday all borrowed...
As mind sways third eye...
To contemplate fools whim...
Silence greets mind door...
We mere ponder, in mornings first light...
...Deep in the shallows...
...Deep breath we gently release...
thought into stolen silence...
...As our response...
...sealed within the secrets bestowed
within our dreams...
...Softly we tread once more...
...Silence greets mind door...
...Softly we tread once more...
...This new day...
...Deep in the shallows...
7/9/17
Whether or not I ever find what I seek
You are what you eat
Bare foot or with shoes on your feet
You can try, but it'll do no good turning the other cheek
Nights of very little rest or a great sleep
Fields full of wheat
And beets
A rise of temperature causing lifeforms to overheat
You either still got or lost the receipt
Bouts of consecutive victories and defeat
On dirt roads and in the street
In the shallows and deep
On the move or taking a seat
Daily, monthly, yearly and every single week
Some foods that are spicy and sweet
The evidence was or wasn't concrete
Tasks didn't get finished or were complete
Many that just eat greens or meat
On either side of the creek
Far too many that are a fraud and a cheat
Towards them karma and havoc will wreak
Near and far from teak
Regardless of if the terrain is flat or steep
Information kept discrete or getting leaked
Resources that are rich or beginning to deplete
Wade the Shallows
Wade the shallows, swim not the deep,
loss of time makes the old man weep.
Imagine castles, thundered in glory prime
fleeing shadows racing about in time!
Comfort of the known sees the dream,
whistles the kettle in heated steam.
A vow, a promising oath made in sin
darkened shadows await in the heart of men!
Cleave to the willows along the bank,
sand on the beach, rocks to thank
Look back at a wild path solemnly made
rejoice in the hand so well played!
Walk a path that gives solace and high spirit.
Ring that bell, do not worry if failing to hear it!
Robert J. Lindley, 07-20-2014
The virgin under the pristine sheet,
patrols the creaking, cut, timber of time,
through the blooming roses and the sleet.
The grandiose grandfather chimes.
She used to shine her eyes near the shallows.
The young lass can only shriek her woes.
Her eyes, bright as the moon, on the gallows.
For now she bids welcome under bedding clothes.
Her arms writhe like the wind on the cliffs.
Her feet, hidden beneath the grave cold sheet.
No eye holes needed. It creeps out the stiffs.
She performs a trick when they beg for treats.
The light-as-a-cloud lass, floats just above the grass.
When the ghosts, goblins and vampires notice
they tremble, they turn pale under their first class
masks. The naysayers are given notice!
If they think, or call her a spook, or a guy, she tears
the snow white sheet off, and makes a spectacle
of her hollow cheeks, tangled hair, truant jaw. Fears,
beyond terror, make the living bully sensible.
The pale virgin roams, as long as there's day and night,
as long as seasons come and go, though she longs for sleep.
She moves by her own will - no wrong or right.
The lass longs for quiet, under soil, six feet deep.
small fish in shallows
large fish found in deepest depths
few and far between
(February 4, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
The end of Autumn is still mild
and the majestic Mounts of Partenio
have no trace of snow; lovely Baiano
at its foot is tamed, not wild.
One can spot, looking up with delight,
different colors of lilacs and roses,
lulled by the softest breeze on balconies
and windowsills open to glaring sunlight;
a Verdi aria is sung by a housewife
who is bored, but looking outside
she sees all the beauty that excites life
and lets her daughter improvise!
Hasty shallows are leaving
the sky of Baiano, a picturesque town lying
in a valley between sturdy mountains
that protect her from the harshest winters;
see that slim boy run down Via IV Novembre
holding his books in his right hand with care!
Only the grey-breasted robbins choose to stay,
they shriek emitting a loud cry; warm is their nests
beneath the red rooftops when frozen rain pelts;
ah, they sadly follow the trail of the shallows in dismay!
This flaming sunset blinds as the old bronze bells
of Santa Croce ring; and in this church, I sat, pondered, and prayed
and singing the hymns written by a monk that lived
two hundred years ago, and now in the golden city of God, he dwells!
Hasty swallows are leaving
the sky of Baiano betraying their trust
in an iridescent season very calm and charming;
I chase after them, then I stop and start to grunt!
Concerning our hobbled earth~
God must yearn to start from scratch
We've been given multiple chances
but have turned Eden into ash.
Our minds are filled with plastic thoughts
and the burrs of nuclear rust.
A hellish-metal-hearted, selfish species
that no other species should ever trust.
War species-filthy DNA staircase...
bleach it clean with a mutating gene
splashed with peaceful sequences.
Until our gilded God intercedes
he should float a no vacancy sign
upon the shallows of our minds.
my shallows
my
shallows
swallows
theres depths
dripping them
in
my
pools
breath
breathing
more than
time has left
ban me there
ban me here
words
don't
care
in
the
hollows
of
my
shallows
?
I wake in a memoryless room
unlabeled and unanchored,
a floating proprioception unhinged
from time and place.
The bathroom has moved beyond the present
it is where it was once maybe
yet where it is at this moment
is forgot.
Who walks now
out of someone else’s memory
as if she owned this space?
Her face keeps changing
it forms then falls apart like melting snow
now she is this other person.
Who am I to gather up her reality
to piece together her history,
to deny her to sit next to me now
here at the edge of this bed
wanting to hold hands
for some comfort in a strange land?
Perhaps she will explain to me
why we meet only between
the shallows and the deep?
I knelt in the shallows,
on the white sand.
Sun-soaked and alone
amidst many
stretched out in play.
I adored the Lord
unaware of myself.
Only the invitation
to praise Him,
far away from home.
At home, in Him
in the pristine sand,
in the shallow rows
upon rows of calm.
Claimed this spot,
remembered by not
any but the Most High.
Feeling high
in the shallows
that go on forever
into the light.
I enjoyed this day
more than any other
earth dweller.
Close to heaven
as ever can be,
calling on the Creator,
my Friend, my Savior,
my God. I knelt
in the shallows,
unafraid and settled.
I am like an anchor,
a small boat, a fish
in a pond,
feeling larger
than my life
and all that’s ever been,
here in the shallows
end to end.
It's almost impossible to show,
The shadows of:
Blue
White
Yellow
& more..
Of diamonds' shines
When the reader is a shallow blind one
Thinks a writer is a gaga seller of pieces of glasses
When I was not in love
I wrote love poetry.
It’s easier
when you’re above the waves
to romance with words,
harder to write about love
when you're splashing around
in the depths of its ocean.
Laugher comes naturally
when I ponder the ambiguity,
mutual passion's
eventually turn to grocery lists
and chores to do.
Love poetry is a boat to ride,
it's up to us if we decide
to jump overboard again.