Best Sieving Poems
Boundless, the possibilities for dreamers;
Interval visions for believers
freeing time of structured sand,
sifting through clock’s hands,
allowing
fanned
imaging’s
unfettering strands
to now literally expand
sieving pictures through dreamtime’s siever.
Boundless, the possibilities for dreamers.
© All Rights Reserved by Author
2/15/15
I’d name this form: Etheree Hourglass
I accidently let one loose today
I've cooked earth's goose its fair to say
I won't pretend it wasn't me
Soon it'll be clear for all to see.
Who even knew that was a containment field
and an innocent stumble would cause it to yield
its inhabitant singularity
was a well kept secret evidentially.
Til I let it go - chased it thru the door
- hole in one - then thru the floor
Two of the little buggers headed for the roof
they can multiply I have the proof.
Mathematical joy they did perform
Arcing thru cars, pipes, sieving up a storm
flickering jolts of fiery light
following their orbiting trailing delight.
So many now - not long to wonder
til earth's a faulty falling colander.
So, sorry for the whole untidy mess
But I did front up and confess.
Hadron Collider Cleaner
Written 8th July
For Charles Messina Contest
I accidentally let one Loose
a ghost haunts the country of Laos
sieving through jungles
crackling twigs because
it has not yet died
beware of it
the one who drags one foot
while the other rots 20 feet away
shoes made of cast metal
footprints ever so present
in night fall
imprints of bomb shells in mud fields
a phantom roams
plains in Laos
hide your children
its breath reeks of agent orange
its shouts
dynamite flames that dusts away human bones
and bamboo baskets
a stench of wheezing willing to fold
curl
leaves and skins of families who
who hide in forest
till their flesh shrivels
like the lungs of many dead soldiers
the fissures of its face
exposes land mines
crooning a song of torment
through throats of civilians fleeing
on the hair of this
wicket phantom
its hair droops the length
of the Ho Chi Minh trail
hear its whispers
it also cries
moans of a past that begs
to be remembered
clawing trees to spell out its name
the ghost wails pain
filters itself everywhere
whimpering
peeling steal and lead
by the millions
what remains become chains
that burrow into earth
by cluster bombs
big bombs
B-52 bombers dropping
in its tons of U.S. congress approval
in ink
an old friend still alive and well
and under moonlight
refugees run
only to meet more trouble
in camps
they desire to break away
from this ghost and its name
and no one recalls its name
of this
ghoul who rages through
the country of
Laos
melting tendons and flesh
this ghost hungers
for humans
screeching napalm gas on
palms of
guerilla soldiers
american soldiers
and vietcong alike
death does not even remember its name
beware but
tell your children
light the candles and the
incense
the ghost drifts because
no one wants to
know about its name
The Secret War
put this crying soul
of secret history
to rest
recognize
its name
bless this curse
that wants to
name
all the people
it claims
and they too
will remain alive
like mines beneath the soil
seeds of calamity
On 14th Feb, valentines day
I spent my afternoon
lying lazily on the hammock at the beach
pondering over the dreams of my youths
with truth constantly reflecting
wondering if true love ever exists
gazing blindly around
not sure of what I see
At the periphery of the beach
a pretty lady in a blue bikini
seats alone she seems busy for herself
sieving sand between her fingers.
a fragrant breeze blows
as her lovely curly hair responds
her lips so soft and red
her eyes, sparkling like stars in the sky
staring at them I felt like I was soaring high
she initiates a smile which blows me away
feeling my heart with regrets
why love never led me to the right person
A dark gentle man
cladded in a pair of slacks
walks towards her
seems her counterpart right
by his right hand he helps her up
on her legs she embraces him warmly
stricken by envy, I feign a smile
as I watch romance take the better of them.
walking hand in hand
the two begin to ease into a special place
a special place for lovers
The lovers nest, a romantic thrill
at the end of the beach
these are only but,
shadows in my eyes.
Slow sways, it meanders ~
Sandy spotted mammoth
Sieving the shallow sea…
Still that dorsal fin fear!
Some jaws don’t bite or bark
Such is deep’s largest fish…
Sized gape, my whale shark awe ~
(3/27/22)
“Sundar means beautiful,” the natives write—
The mangroves of south dance beneath daylight
With the flair of a gypsy drunk and bold
Swirling her skirt of salt. And callous gold
Prowls the swamp after trotting prey in flight.
The sentinels of south guard through the night
And push and pull against the windy might;
Behind their sieving shields, beliefs still hold—
Sundar means beautiful.
The men of south venture without invite
For honey, wood and fish into the plight;
The wives, like fortune, wait at the threshold
Praying and cursing gods foreign or old,
As sleepless children scramble to recite—
Sundar means beautiful.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Form: Rondeau
Date: 13 / 11 / 2016
Sundarbans ( Literal Translation: Beautiful Forest) is a mangrove forest on the delta formed by the super confluence of the Ganges, Padma, Brahmaputra and Meghna rivers across southern Bangladesh and Bengal. It's a swamp land that belongs to tigers, crocodiles and well, millions of people who live there and earn their livelihood from the forest. The environmental importance of Sundarbans is colossal as the mangroves protect the coastal areas from erosion, surge storms and tsunamis. In my opinion, without the forest, the human history of this region would have been a completely different one.
Time flies when you're not concentrating.
It slyly and sneakily separates
its victims from their past minutes and hours,
not sieving or selecting ... just on the take.
All your best and worst times are packed away,
a portfolio of fading memories.
Life and time should be like a living book
which you can dip into at any point,
revisiting, cherry-picking the best of it;
reliving the warmth of your Spring and Summer days
before the Autumn shadows obscure the past
and the Winter chill freezes time going nowhere.
Time flies when you're not concentrating.
ELUSIVE SAPPHIRE
BY
Kevin L Fairbrother
The Willows west of Emerald
A place to relax and try your luck
For in the ground around the town
The elusive Sapphire lies hidden
Digging and sieving the wash
Specking the ground for color
Tons of dirt I’ve dug and shifted
And many miles I’ve walked
As yet the Sapphire remains elusive
But I’ll persevere and have a go
For you never know when color will appear
Rewarding your hard work and perseverance
Stories are told of finds by kicking the ground
Turning up Sapphires of a 100 karats plus
In diggings uncovering pockets filled with color
Of Sapphires in different shapes and size
The work is hard, hot and dusty
The sun blazes down the temperature
Hits the forty degree mark in the shade
You’re covered in sweat, dust and grime
Day after day you toil in the heat
Dig up a small color, spurs you on for more
You hope that luck will come your way
And turn up a Sapphire to make your day
Strange sedition stealthy sets
cloaked in artificial greening phiz
some by prejudice inquiring,
“Where are you from”?
others in feigning frame avoiding,
finding paths away from you,
Though harmless your looks.
There be those secluding,
choosing space dodging.
deliberate speed the drama,
of Conceited Bias unspoken,
The loss of childhood innocence,
Deprivation infinite,
miscarriages of Justice,
preferential treatments innumerable,
spites and Obvious denigration,
strange glare on nature's kiln,
The sun made me shine little mind,
I don't envy You in this cold.
The spite, multitudinous,
The Jeers, unprovoked contumely,
At work,
The Bus,
the Malls,
The elevator,
the peevish looks,
uncertain repudiations,
Even in Church secluded,
The brief suspense at the “sacred” ground
Exclusivity,
We see it, watching in silence.
Some time too Obvious,
Unspoken Nepotism,
“We first”, You Last or voided.
The denigrating use of “Minority or Others”
As though the described are less human,
I am African, NOT "minority" or "others"
we know these sieving schemes.
In civility we ignore,
A better knowledge Leads
This dying carcass a mere container,
We are not inferior,
we are not a threat,
We are beautiful ,
We observe,
We lough at these ,
And when the manacles of Justice is snapped by the creator of colors
then shall you know,
We are all sojourners here.
I sometimes wander
into the wilderness of doubt
…off the beaten path
of conformity
My spirit walking barefoot
through contradictions
gathering the dust
of beliefs to trust
What’s seen at first
as a barren land
is filled with discarded ideas
Philosophies and concepts
of different mindsets
are as many
as the grains of sand
Sifting and sieving
these conceptual grains
is a task that’s not in vain
Spending some time
in solitude
allows the spirit
to commune
with the brain
©Debra Squyres 2013
Eternal sleep! cozy and might,
the morning in Eden's bright,
canopy of happiness, sieving joy's light.
Touch of freedom, kiss of esteem
pumping all back , fair redeem!
Sweet,sweet sleep,
never on this land again, to rise and weep.
Slit on throat, kiss of blade
A garland around the nape,
driven by sorrow,poison in marrow.
Fall to rise,again to wise.
Torn soul soon be knit,
in the new world, perfectly fit.
The path is scary, not the work of fairy
Alas! the only lane,
jigsaw of hatred, blame game.
so erase the life theory,
create a new story.
But the escape is forever,
Heard of heaven and hell,live never.
Once gone, gone for eternal
no breath again, no beat to mingle.
Though might, thou art full of vice
mislead the weak, to a path bleak.
a slit, not the sole cut of life.
So disperse i should, thick clouds over my sanity would
baffle my mind, Lord! strengthen one more time.
Dear courage you're the guide,
'Eternal sleep' run away and hide.
I'm the man who can build fate,
can ask the slumber to wait.
The growth of a person,
Unleashed with the purest essence of life from thyself.
Wilt not slave thyself from the prowess anger,
Shalt not crave hunger for life’s threat.
Not even,
Sieving through the darkness of all threatening sorrows.
This message lies the key of growth,
Of purity, of maturity.
Even as an infant,
Thou survest the strength,
Forcing for inner bravery.
Continuing for thy strength and bravery,
Finally led for the righteous justice,
Eventually succeeded for it.
Care to think of yourself,
Sieving through the mundane,
I wonder if you're expecting anything,
Is this the life, or has it not yet begun?
If so, then what is it that is this?
A preparation, a practice, perhaps
An exhibition? Or is it the one true thing,
Has it started? Am I too late,
Should I begin leaving my words behind
Lest I dare be carried downstream,
And continue dreaming the world's end,
Hopelessly begging, "When will life begin?"
As it slowly inches past me.
Eternal sleep! cozy and might,
the morning in Eden's bright,
canopy of happiness, sieving joy's light.
Touch of freedom, kiss of esteem
pumping all back , fair redeem!
Slit on throat, kiss of blade
A garland around the nape.
Fall to rise,again to wise.
Torn soul soon be knit,
in the new world, perfectly fit.
The path is scary, not the work of fairy
Alas! the only lane,
jigsaw of hatred, blame game.
But the escape is forever,
Heard of heaven and hell,live never.
Once gone, gone for eternal
no breath again, no beat to mingle.
Though might, thou art full of vice
mislead the weak, to a path bleak.
So disperse i should, clouds over my sanity would
baffle my mind, Lord! strengthen one more time.
Dear courage you're the guide,
'Eternal sleep' run away and hide.
I'm the man who can build fate,
can ask the slumber to wait.
“Abe, easy Dee, effigy, eight chives, Jake, ale, Em,
any hope, peak you, arrest a ewe, feed other ewe”
ex-wife said
she certainly SPELT it out!
he then went on to reCOUNT
“When, too, furry forks, fave socks sieving, eat known tin”
and there was something oddly familiar about it all
when ex-husband and ex-wife spoke their nonsense