Best Slants Poems
She slants her shining, golden glance
Across desert, mountains, rivers, plants
Greets her rising, true romance
In the purpling, opposite skies
Her lunar love, her heart’s delight
Soars to ever darker height
For each, the other’s perfect, right
It’s on their wings time flies
She seems asleep within the night
Yet always, somewhere, she’s brilliant, bright
Motionless in constant flight
Each day its own surprise
They’ll never meet – there’s not a chance
These partners in eternal dance
Of darkness, light – they both enhance
The world with their long goodbyes
***
As their crescent waltz achieves crescendo
Sans artifice or innuendo
Young children start to play Nintendo
While adults stir and rise
I’m looking at an old house
Called home by someone
I will look at any old house new or old but
Home is ALWAYS an old house
Old people open doors
Walk the floors
Old people light the candles
Decorate the mantles
And the roof ever slants
So young thoughts may go
Sliding down to settle on ground
In front of home
Seasons come
Seasons go
Cloudy bright
Rain or snow
Inside though
Home is ever warmed
By timeless ghosts
Of hearth reborn
I’m climbing the stairs of an old house
Called home by someone
To open a door
Find stairs and climb some more
To follow the footsteps of some vague someone
In an old house called home
...............................................................
For Trudy
The trip was a riot of color,
It brings a myriad of queries,
Fantastic tales of utter darkness,
Views' visible roots were explored.
Mainsail surges,
pungent froth carried wave tips while,
blast swings moaning openly.
superb mountains,
Convey streams into streaming rivers,
Down slants shrouded in woods.
And the majesty of the stars,
Is confronted every morning,
Under soft white clouds,
is with each foot I set down.
I relish the quiet of the sound,
how each slant embraces,
the still raw bay.
Home to unglaciated cervids,
Gnawing animals and polar bears,
Willow grouse, deer,
Also, the renowned Chinook Salmon.
More genuine than the Arctic flow,
Afar-off state refuted,
In both word and deed,
Anyhow of these ever tender wishes.
Atop mottled strands,
I let my emotions air dry,
Orange tulips were selected,
I regained faith; I can fly.
5Th Place Contest Winner
Written: June 18, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
The fulsome figure of the moon
O'er floats midst myrrh and cassia's haze
Now piercing darkness' call of loon
Whilst rumors swirl amidst the maze
Yon swan, young goose swift flap their wings
The pond's alive, sweet sings the dove
As ducklings dance and nature swings
A lustrous spectacle above
Dark clouds demur, they gather round
Fierce crack of lightning bolts below
Brew up a storm, a crash resounds
The lambent spectacle's cruel foe
At rain's hard slants, the pond shrinks back
Her light cut short, her brilliance black
~ Iambic Tetrameter ~
February 24, 2021
All Yours (Feb. 26) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Is Beethoven's ensemble fairer than nature's psalms?
Amidst a crowning sun: ears and eyes are drugged,
drenched with tender notes, orchestrated by greens,
inhale deep, the aromatic blossoms from the vine
with their lilting swell, brushed shades of fine wine.
Listen, listen to the sudden leap, the vibrato of bird song
or the raucous winds rubbing against house-corners
and the blithering brook carrying tales of who?
As you walk attuned to the crunch of the brown foliage.
When the cobalt skies turn to ash - gray mode,
hear heaven's vault lament, drizzling sobs to loud weeps
when day's face in angst pout or blush beside the beloved.
Feel your feet push or pull deluged by the liquid fingers
of the sea; in whites, they murmur ripples. They tremble
and stir, savor the flavor, a brief interlude:
Nature's power: tones, sharps, curls, pants. It slants
aiming to reach a rest upon blues of sky at its zenith,
The darting patterns curves, verves are diapered
wanting to delight, to wonder, to shock, to soothe.
rain slants, umbrella her side sways ~ he silently flaunts loves subtle ways
27-February-2021
Without saying I love you poetry contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Creation
women of age
sit in the sun and dream.
they knit up our world
on five flashing needles
click, click, click
a woman of age sits across the aisle,
she dreams in the sun
as it slants through the pane.
her pale hands move regardless of her thoughts.
yarn slides between her fingers
occasionally catching on weathered skin
click, click, click
softly serenades the hour away.
my glance sidles up to her
tries to fathom the history
behind those dreaming eyes
yarn thoughts weave our world.
five silver needles fly
I wonder if the bus will stop
when the clicking ceases.
The aching rain beats down on me
I shield myself as best can be
Its piercing slants like stinging bees
The cold damp wind goes right through me
My teeth do chatter up and down
My body's shaking all around
No warmth retained, I'm 'bout to freeze
Right through me howls the cold wet breeze
I spot whitecaps way out at sea
The aching rain beats down on me
I shield myself as best can be
Then shiver in the chill damp breeze
suddenly bare branches
sway and shiver
shiver and sway, outstretched
in vain
to December's flares
stunted grass shoots
deign not wave
to howling winds
their lawns daily prowl
icy slants of rain
piercing bare heads
autumn’s roses gone missing
color them dead
Balcony moods
Morning offering;
Song of bird duo
By the yard edge
Bird frolic twitter;
A cheery quartet
Song fills dawn
Sunlight slants;
Window view sparkles
Last night's rain
Wet grounds betray;
Uneven footsteps traced
Joy after sorrow
Traces of old grief;
Ushered out abruptly
Old sepia memories
Silver nitrate etchings;
Old time photography
Haunting faces preside
Mother and father;
Yesterday's courtesy
Today flings
Doors wide open;
Strangers in paradise
Prayers on altars
Everywhere we go;
Living burying the dead
Can you hear
Sounds of old strains;
Voices calling in echoes
This life we live
Takes sterner stuff;
Hope feeds effort
Do you notice
A common melody;
Swirling time after time
Mundane routines
Calls time for after shocks;
Trauma feeds norm
When I listen
Do I hear
Sounds in the silence
Trip to market
Buy and sell;
Barter for things
Hate is fear exposed
Let love attend trade;
Poverty lives painful hatred
Look up and see
Dawn in a flash;
Insight reveals truth
Leon Enriquez
15 July 2014
Singapore
beauty, blessing, January, magic, moon, sunset, winter
A SEASON’S GLOW ©
‘Bastille’ winter-lodes wait anticipating the reserved and affected invasions of the sun’s setting rays, to lay its' mark upon her surrounding ice-capped winter hood---
Fortifying ‘arms’ now stand saluting at attention to the expected deluges to carnival delights from the setting sun….
Applause from ‘knightly’ lances carry a shadow-display, when brought to arms;
'toe-elbowing' their stances to a light bright multiplexed review….
Eventide’s soon to reach cosmic nighttime ceilings and is brought momentarily to stands aside, to hushed warnings off snow iced platforms gaining cheery fire-light at each kissed by-pass retreat….
At devotion ‘arms’ stretch their winter façades 'drawing' close their 'painted' ‘four o’clock’ shadows; that mark out each stance---
Alas, the playhouse ‘adieus’ end with sad commendations; when staged dimmed lights snuff and flicker out to blackness.
Nighttime slants and an interval is at hand, for waning sun’s rays, to dismiss their stationed sentinels over to moonlit beamed doom---
Night plagues with harmonizing rhythms; as ice-tinkling ‘icicles’ from branches high salute the night time, sky-faerie's lite and dance upon a new stage!
I only be looking down now, looking inside myself now,
not head set in defeat but reflection, not the thoughts but the actual events that happened, wild flower child, yea right boom boy im a power plant, a quater-back serving audibles, wide-receivers run em in slants, run deep, swapping the rythym up, call it skill or pronounce them fiery darts of the devil, replay read a lot of fake words, deploy nothing but truths that carry troops, dead-zone drop-off swing wide scrape the danger, winged right there then, repairs upmost respected like I have a strong command of the english langauge, a strong sense of honor, PoW's plenty of wise men, plenty that u couldnt challenge on the battlefield, u better be ready to die when you walk in their battallion, Feel the valance the stealth, feel nothing feel what you feel wether its false politics American Goverment, I dont condemn my country, American people be the damn blindest, conditionally unseasoned , refutedly would he die in that war man? Well im a black speck in his eyes dying where ever it dont make a ****, you think a soldier gives a damn about being remembered, nah its about fighting your hardest, living longer, having your friends back, perfecting that last love letter, asking God for guidance, as waiting for it, Command given stretch the ammunition, permissions only to use your intuition, now i put a disatant on that idea's be balanced if you spot it u got it, six strikes 3 terrible battle plans, instructions be on a good heart. we life size- we realize it. we competition cams with a lope pulling deeper compression, true intentions blow up in your mind like mushroom clouds, like the repurcussion was a blast to the laws broken in an accident, cheap shells cheap never be Blaine c cheap s sweetlies b bashing breaking *****es, bullstrong. balls with the brillance, beautiful blows, brainstorming, bulls of bashan beaware the wheel of furtune turns quick ask me I slip out simple vibes I be on top soon. blanks broken hollypoints I keep one jax in the chamber, Bang baby I still hit hard with the power, bang *****es blaine me, can u blame me? Straight and narrow , not like in a false form, warfront back on a warhorse, back on the foremost thoughts of a man with a decision to make..
One morning I awoke to find
in soft garden shadows
mythical, unicorn, hoof prints
How I imagined its perfect form;
a magical horse with a spiraled horn
stepping through a pink mist
into my garden at dawn
I decide I will hide
where the first light
slants through the trees
my heart all aflutter,
waiting to see this miracle.
A rustle of leaves-
I hold my breath -
ready to face
the impossible
Oh! Disbelief! What do I see?
But two horse shoes attached to sticks
and father planting mythical hoof prints
Quiet as a fae I steal away
and later with wonder, I softly say
"A unicorn has strayed, Pa Pa-
into our garden today."
Written in June 2003
Evanescent parlays
of paradoxical exposure
expecting perceivable combustion,
hindsight still plays unavoidable heady games
aftermath perception lives up to mean arithmetic
Specificity of angular slants contrasting circles'
spatial commitment to conformity's configurations - -
square pegs will never fit societal a$$holes
Summer’s gone…
The earth has shifted.
The sun slants
Anew each day.
The chill in the air
In the cool, cool, dawn,
Brings a change
Most welcome, some say.