Best Sooty Poems
Silent as smoke, darkness descends;
while shadows merge and daylight ends.
For, summoned by a bullfrog's croak;
darkness descends, silent as smoke.
The Moon pools in ebony skies;
and gilded gold; She starts to rise.
One of the night's brightest jewels;
in ebony skies: the Moon pools.
Blue bleeds red from a dying sun,
a telltale sign that Day is done.
Inking crimson clouds overhead;
from a dying sun, blue bleeds red.
Signaling for love, fireflies flash,
as dusk settles like sooty ash.
Under the stars, twinkling above;
fireflies flash, signaling for love.
The golden sunset drew me in
To gaze upon day's end beauty
Like a gentle fireplace fire when
The golden sunset drew me in
With speed changed not like it had been
Orange flame to red almost sooty
The golden sunset drew me in
To gaze upon day's end beauty
" In titanium haze of love,
truth is but a mere lie,
never unlocking gold vaults
of feelings, for,
honesty weeps somewhere
in perfumed odes of
inkless pages,
hidden in our forlorn fate..."
If twilight roses were
reincarnated angels,
they would carve
a zillion destinies
with feathered letters,
flickering beneath
butterfly glitters,
adhering glossy
wings of rosemary,
like a balm to
invisible scars
and encasing
my soul in a
hundred hues
of blood.
But, I never knew,
the secrets of
nebulous-cloaked
vengeance which
infused in
nightingale's
forevermore fortunes,
echoing eerie whispers
in elora moors of
scarlet jasmines,
at the jinx of
midnight's omen;
for thou emerged
as a lover in
ninety-nine novels,
but a guised
killer in the
farewell fantasy.
As I float by,
in the swan lake,
losing myself to thee,
I wish upon
defrosting your eyes,
that got submerged
beneath icebergs
of betraying harbinger
and bleed my soul
in frosted heart's
snow-sealed
milky ways,
as these flaked
clayey leaf
pamphlets of
sakura scents
aren't enough
to erase thy
fingerprints from this
poisoned chalice,
that sung sinful
serenades in
deadly paradise
of Eurydice
and sliced my spirit
to sooty shreds,
in this diamond dungeon
behind sage valleys.
Laced in
ash grey lies,
I'm a corpse
enveloped in
crimson croons
of confetti,
whilst lips
soak acrylic
dewdrops of
melting roses,
that once
blanketed our
eden in the
arms of heaven,
with starlit petals.
So, as Nymph,
in the orisons,
with hemlock
fused heart,
be all my sins
remembered.
For, love is a
smoke raised
with the fume
of sighs, demising
to sacrificed
meadows, where,
this kismet tale
departs in the
very ecstacy
of cradling mist,
and thus,
with disoriented
twilight's kiss, I die.
The world's grey. Slowly, methodically,
Feathers from colorful birds have been burned.
Sheep in a fog on a snowy mountain.
One man thought uniformity equaled
Superiority, ugly furor.
Their ashes floated down all around us
There's no color left in this sooty world.
Beauty's palette swirled with color beckons.
Diversity screams for a slight foothold.
The heart just withers in colorless worlds.
Washed and smartly dressed in school uniform
Judy tucks into her healthy breakfast
while watching cartoons on television.
Her mother smiles. Outside the sun shines bright.
Rami wakes to sounds of jets overhead.
He pulls his worn blanket tight to his chest
afraid to look outside and see the dead.
His nation torn and by tyrants oppressed.
A friend’s birthday party awaits Judy.
With present in hand she knocks at the door;
already, music fills the evening air.
She’s greeted by hugs and happy faces.
Wails of crying mothers fill sooty air.
Where did Rami’s go? She’s been gone so long.
Each day he offers for her a prayer,
knowing well she would want him to stay strong.
Excited, she tugs at her father’s hand
as she watches the colored lights around
the fair grounds. Nibbling at her candyfloss,
she makes a mental note of the fun rides.
Will there be food today, food he can share?
It’s his duty to care for another.
He crawls through litter, finds the wee one there,
but cold is the body of his brother.
Today it was a public holiday
and Judy’s parents took her to the beach.
A lovely day has now come to an end.
Judy’s mother gives her a goodnight kiss.
With family gone, Rami takes up arms.
They’re readily available to all.
It matters not to him which side he harms;
in battle Rami is willing to fall.
Judy falls asleep in her cozy bed
as her mum softly sings a lullaby.
A fleeting smile lights up her peaceful face.
She dreams of life’s delights, cuddles and love.
To a staccato rhythm bullets fire
as Rami dashes from the ragged tent.
Of Rami’s fate nobody will inquire;
for war’s children, none are left to lament.
O souls of the Island,
I have silently
heard through
tropical torrents
and surpassed
a million miles
of the milky seas,
away from
mint-marine
silhouettes of my
utopian wonderland,
as strawberry
ripples and
coconut-scented
musings called
upon my
flamboyant spirit,
to explore those
ebony-emeralds
of universe and
envelop my hope in
creamy pink shells.
I have soaked in
sepia impressions,
ebbing as
crepe currents
on splitting shores
and windsurfed
through the
hibiscus rays
of life by forbidding
heartache hymns
of yesteryears,
from lurking in
jewelled hours
of today
and built a
kryptonite kayak
to sail in the
turquoise times
of tomorrow.
For, now I know
that the
opalescent ocean
has chosen me,
to return the
riveting spirit
of sage-rufescent
rivulets back to
the 'Heart of
Humanity's Cosmos',
shaped in
soft serenades
of seraphim.
When the
whispers of a
mauve french-rose,
blooming within,
will uncurl their
farthest wish
in silken twinkles,
my eyes will always
remember these
watercolor heights
splashing crayon dusks
and revealing
silver moon truths,
for there's more
beyond the
neon networks
of syzygy pearl skies
and chestnut reefs,
yearning to be
cherished by the
blonde alchemy of love.
So, I abandon
those sooty
regrets that snorkel
with their fragile fins in
kohl-lily gulfs
and observe these
constellations
of intuitions, formed
by the star-kissed
manta rays and
sketch sagacious
saudades laced
with hope, as a
halo around the
lilac Pole Star.
In this mortal
seascape of
the seventh heaven,
every orphan
of darkness
shimmers as
the beacon
of lustrous
sugar-scintilla that
shapes this world,
in ivory-smitten
spheres of
magically
diaphanous helix,
waltzing in whispers
of wind and water.
Every lava-skinned,
feminine flame
of doleful daffodils
was once a glittered
cherry-red gardenia,
laced with
cardinal buds,
who nurtured
velvet seeds
in the womb of
celeste compassion
and edenic empathy.
And like myself,
every sea-maiden of
sequined lush ruminations,
crowned with
purple plumerias,
is a whimsical wayfinder,
wishing for ~
white bells of serenity
and blue-star petals of peace.
When the river of poetry has dried
Like parched clouds waiting for warmth
When the rain beats down on emptiness
The god of rain demands to be penned
I pour myself a glass of wet wine
An offering to Bacchus to entreat
My muse, but she ain’t listening
Her torrent of words fall on deaf ears
I light two cigarettes as an offering
My sooty lungs are a poor sacrifice
Still my muse refuses to talk sense
The god of ash will not spill beans
Poetry has dried, but I am faithful
I’ll cup my hand in the pouring rain
I’ll bind dissonant words like cold fusion
Marry consonants and vowels online
Anything to rise above the mundane
I offer sooty words to show I’m here
Do poets online get drenched like me
Stumbling in the rain posting virtually?
My eucharist is dipped in whine now
Comments become sacramental breads
Poetry is a vice best felt in the rain
Washed clean by constant wringing
So I’ve made a poem out of rain
Turned water to prose like Jesus
I’m on Golgotha with Him every day
Extolling in the driving storm
Both of us bleeding or crying
Eli eli lama sabachthani?
God, my gods why have you
You abandoned me?
You must know it's just a cross
It's me counting rain drops
When the parched clouds part
Let the sunshine be though hard
"Snapdragons and Dandy Lions - Part 2"
The day was cooling down
pressing itself close into
the amythest and musk pink early eve
as the eggshell pale blue sky rolled over into
Astor Purple to get ready for sleep.
The Ostrich Ferns rustled,
We’d frightened the Blue Tongue, he’d run back to his lair.
Coming in from the Ocean now
there came a light breeze.
I was looking for four leaf clovers
and Skink eggs but they were to be found nowhere
while she knelt in her rock garden planting
Agapanthas, Gladiolus, Calla Lillies,
Daffodils, Fresias and Pansies -
there were loose bulbs everywhere
and packets of Tulip
and Blue-Eyed Susan seeds.
Sooty, the Black cat sat
and watched with knowing sly eyes
twitched his whiskers, licked a paw on ‘his’ Window Sill,
he looked very wise.
We’d been making Daisy Chains,
she’d placed on our hair like Crowns.
Of course,
3’s always a bad number, it's never neat,
there’d been fights in between – still,
we were her adoring subjects, her princesses and
SHE our beautiful and kind QUEEN.
“Do you know why I love Snapdragons the best?” the QUEEN declared,
“They’re the knights of this garden –
they get a bad rap because of their name.
Look at their faces though,
they’re ferocious not frightened of anything,
great courage they always stand firm.
It’s the blasted Dandy Lions,
well they scare easy,
blow away every time
there’s a storm
and they leave a damned mess”.
She looked at us, and said,
“You’re like those Snapdragons my beautiful girls.
Always stand together.
Always stand firm”.
(Lovejoy-Burton/2017 Dec)
(1)
"Under the Ivy"/Kate Bush
https://youtu.be/NvKNzyO4wk0
(2)
"Datura"/Tori Amos
https://youtu.be/WX_dwuF-6oY
NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE, ENGLAND
Half-Scot, half-English and ill at ease with the past,
Newcastle is sooty black from its coaly drama,
And the breathless town was always in a hurry to grow,
Narrowly avoiding destruction of its past or leaping over it.
Up on the plateau, industrial power-engine city:
Its earlier Norman Castle and Black Gate narrowly missed
By the frenetic hammers of eager Victorian builders.
Elegantly-proportioned Grainger Street and Central Rail Station
Pause unwillingly to admit the Scottish-style lantern-spired
Sandstone cathedral with its delicate shade of sooty industrial black.
Down at the riverside - an earlier town of shipyards and arms factories,
Quayside warehouses with watertight flood-doors,
Its precipitous narrow old port-streets carved into the gorge walls
And pierced by cold winds from the North Sea,
Is leaped over by a platoon of high-level metal bridges.
Across the Tyne, inelegant, they grab the opposite bank and bind the city to England.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
NOTE: 1 Newcastle is situated on the north ( = Scottish ) side of the River Tyne.
The town was an epicenter of the Industrial Revolution,
with coal, steel, chemical, engineering, and shipbuilding
industries, and was also a major seaport.
2 Norman Castle, Black Gate are remnants of a pre-medieval past.
3 Grainger Street, Central Rail Station are 19th century redeveloped areas.
4 Cathedral (St. Nicholas) dates from 14th century.
Playing Football - A Children's Poem
There once was a lad from Baghdad
who sat in dad's Porsche, a fad.
He liked to play footie
with ball he'd got sooty,
so messed up the car for his dad.
-------------------------------------
2/5/2017
Contest - Limericks, Old or New
Sponsor - Carolyn Devonshire
A Win
Floating in the sky, I love my fluffy cloud.
Sometimes other clouds accumulate,
drifting toward my own.
Hey, that’s okay. I don’t mind the company.
Everyone should feel as good as I.
Achieving small successes,
I am feathering my cloud.
But my cloud is not alone.
To achieve its heaping towering effect,
I depend on clouds of others.
The more I work with them, I can achieve,
and soon I’m lifting, with them, to a higher plane.
I’m buoyed up and riding high the sky.
Sometimes clouds arise that fill with rain.
We all have our moments,
but there are some who seem to stay
constantly on clouds of gray
or hardly will allow the light of sun.
Others love to ride on thunder clouds
sitting close to earth and looking sooty.
They might try to bring me down.
but I’ll not try to hear their constant rumblings.
If your cloud is low and dirty,
you might think to hurt my soul,
and push me from the cloud that is now a part of me.
I say , Hey, you, get off my cloud.
You can play alongside me.
making pretty pictures all the day
while wafting through a sea of blue,
but first you have to earn that puffy cloud!
I won’t let you trample on the cloud where I reside,
for my cloud is my protection,
my comfort and my self-esteem.
For Skat's get off of my cloud (MY CLOUD By: ?????)Poetry Contest
(hope I did that right, putting my name in the title heading!)
Jazz Horn
Now put your left foot forward.
Next put your right foot ahead.
See how that works?
See how the workings of these two appendages
Facilitates the outcome
Of one continuous forward motion
To where you’re going … in this world?
Welcome, my friend,
To this deliciously dark dish of desperate cravings!
Look all around you as we walk this stalking street.
See all the dark places.
Where countless lost souls huddle in bare survival,
And share the hot knob over a weak fire.
I can hear a jazz horn, way off in the distance there.
It’s surely there, and it reassures me I’m still living, here.
Maybe some words by Langston Hughes might be nice right now.
Please, my friend, do me the honor.
Oh, I see. You don’t have your poetry anthology.
And it’s dark too.
Let us then visit the old pawnbroker
Mr. Tattoo Neck knows the price for our private fears.
Piss puddles and crushed beer cans.
And an old used tire hanging hopelessly
By the cracked front window.
I see the world is one inch closer to doom since last we talked.
May we rest in peace, my friend.
Any murders lately on the street?
I hear the blond dish in Shire Apartments has moved out.
Black sooty smashed gum and litter of coupons and girlie guides.
Only one killing this week, my friend.
The butcher from 27th street; the guy who never talked to anyone.
His bowling ball is in the window.
Life is hard. It knocks you on the head when you least expect it.
I hope I make it.
I don’t know if some ******* will come in here and shoot me in the face!
I live my whole freaking life scared!
It’s ridiculous that we all have to be hostages to these evil people.
The city grows darker at night.
I have noticed it because I live mostly with the night.
The night is my secret lover, and there is no other.
The city is as dark as nothing in the middle of nowhere.
Something bigger than a final sunset is needed.
You know what I mean, my friend?
Here, I will buy you that jazz horn there.
You can sweetly serenade me,
And lovely night naked,
As we make love here
In the calming mad darkness.
Her nickname "'sunshine" where she worked,
She's always smiling, some confide.
She has a certain lilting perk
Of hidden beauty deep inside.
Her journey home was twenty miles
Of mostly dark, forbidding streets,
Of tenements and garbage piles
And people none would seek to greet.
In such a spot her tire blew out.
She stopped beside a littered curb.
Abandoned cars and distant shouts,
Of breaking glass and cursing words.
The twilight turned a sooty grey,
As five approached, all wearing hoods.
She kicked the tire and yelled "No way".
They bared their heads, they understood.
She had the gift to win a heart.
The group joined in to change her flat.
She tried to pay the five their part.
They "high fived" hands and that was that.
She lived alone, her little home.
Her driveway was a welcome sight.
A long weekend she earned and owned
To sleep or surf the net all night.
Her drapes inched down and met the window sill.
The hand with dirty fingernails grew still.
She made a hurried circle to the Vet.
They told her "Bud" had been a nervous chore.
She told of his uncanny sense of threat.
Her Rottweiler was first one through the door.
You are my life and in that I believe
Always my love will be only for you
Flattering though that sounds I must confess
My first love is chocolate - sad but true
Sensual visions to capture the feel
Bringing the contours of wind sculpted plains
Hold that thought even though I love it so much
Must let the dog out before he drives me insane
Shimmering soft on the eclipse of love
Cloudless these evenings of star sprinkled mist
Just looked - no lustrous stars in this sooty sky
But stay for chocolate drizzled cake - I do insist
I drink in your fragrance
Tasting the flavors, your moistened lips
I heard something of interest today,
Chocolate doesn’t go to the hips
Kiss me ‘midst the maples
Kiss me ‘long the shore
Kiss me o’ my precious one
Now and ev’r more
Its thirsty work I must confess
This kissing and walking along the shore
A chocolate sundae sounds rather good
At that quaint little place that I do adore?
I see, I see, in front of me
Dessert, dessert, set out for free
My! you do know how to set the mood
I can’t go past this - you do know me
The night feels right the lights are turned low
What’s this the video has stopped? Hello!!
Johnny has left the building? Just when I wanted more
No matter- my debonair poet of delight
Conjure me up some George Clooney tonight
Well set aside your chocolate pie
For Hollywood is coming by
And as you explore your favorite star
I’ll enjoy that Hershey bar
Oh Fickle Heart chocolate second placed?
From gold to silver - it’s now displaced
Footnote:
I’ve used George Clooney as he is globally acclaimed as the most favored flavor in the ratings.
Personally, I favor the more 'Bono' type - (I love his voice)
Paul David Hewson, known by his stage name Bono, is an Irish singer-songwriter, musician.
Acknowledgement:
My deepest appreciation to Chris Green, poet extraordinaire for sparing some of his wonderful talent and collaborating with me to bring you this arrangement.
Copyright © Maria Williams & Chris Green | 12 July 2017
Man and dog, reputed best friends, rise above death’s fears.
With lives on the line, heroes save, minds and hearts in action.
Stories mount across counties where rescuers save many tears.
Not for any gain or fame, but for responsible satisfaction.
A perky little poodle, pretty, adorned in green and gray,
Trapped inside a smoke filled house could not get away.
Firemen forced their way inside in time to save the day.
She squirmed in the arms of safety, well enough to play.
(http://www.suffolknewsherald.com/2011/01/28/firefighters-rescue-dog/)
A black and white dog fell through the ice; he was not skating.
The thinly frozen water, his trap, oh, day in Rhode Island.
Rescuers came to save that dog; there was no hesitating.
They quickly warmed the shaking beast and gave a life-saving hand.
(http://cranston.patch.com/articles/dog-rescued-by-fire-department)
A German shepherd gone astray in the Los Angeles River
Stood on a shallow watery ledge, amid rushing waters.
His savior dangled above the scene, without any shivers.
A struggle for life, one bite to the thumb…success never falters.
(http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2010/01/los-angeles-firefighter-recounts-daring-dog-
rescue.html)
A candle flame, dog owner out, disaster begins to rage.
Five dogs in Colorado Springs saved while the fire burned.
One Chihuahua crossed the Vail to the great doggie sage.
But with love and a fireman’s CPR, her life was soon returned.
(http://www.examiner.com/dog-rescue-in-national/firefighters-rescue-five-dogs-save-chihuahua-
with-cpr)
Across the species border, thrives a caring respect for life.
Both man and canine have been willing to sacrifice breath itself.
Facing danger, against raging flames, bravery beyond strife,
A "dobbie" protects her puppies loving her babies more than herself.
The rescuer knew she passed through her fears and did so aptly.
He had risked his life for her and her pups, awareness shone well.
Both man and dog covered in ash with faces gray and sooty,
No bite, but kisses of thankfulness, she gave, so the world could tell.
© January 29, 2011