Best Soundings Poems
He stands upon the salty,slippery deck,
Yelling yaargh matey ,
with a halfhearted pirate drawl.
He's not to impressed with himself,
not an eyepatch or wooden leg,
not even a hooked claw.
The parrot on his shoulder,
is a wannabee,
a sparrow that fell from the Crowsnest,
from high up above.
It has no quips ,or spikes,
or pirate quotes,
just nesting on his shoulder
with birdly kind of love.
Aye captain the crew responds,
snapping to their chores.
Tend the wheel ,lash the mainsail,
take the soundings
less we hit a reef.
The sea going life is not for every man,
walking the plank,storms and rickets.
Crabs in your knickers ,
really give you grief.
Aah but when the wind fills the sails to bursting,
yards of canvas strain to be free.
And the ropes play ,sea going music
of a tension melody.
A song that captures
every young buccaneers heart ,
and soul and fancy.
For the music of the wanderers life,
an endless expanse of blue,
bravehearts and fearless men find,
quite a bit too chancy.
Black Beard,Yellow Beard,
the famous Captain Blood,
were all fearless pirates of their day.
He truly knows that he can be,
a great one too.
If he could ever find that bleeping map,
and escape this landlocked bay.
Laughing Atmospheres
It floats in the morning dew
Settles with diamonds
On cobwebs who
Catch dreams on their threads
The sensual quiet of dawn
Imbues
The grass blades are whispering
To the sifted chanting
Of being One
In a glittering pool
The sea
Dances every possibility
Day bright answers to the
Begun
Shafts brilliance of the sun
Calling loud
With its perpetual anthem
Loud call
To the rest of the world
And here it comes
The daybreaks begin
Leaping from my chest
It seems
Rushing to laughing atmospheres
Peaks
On white bathed angels
Wings expand
Sends me out
Higher than the light
In my eyes
Gathering to the quintessence
Point
The beating monument
Of my heart
Single holds on to intense
Shudders delight
Through every sense
I am soaring skies
I see her eyes
I
Left unbound to the anchoring ground
I
Hear the word
The catapult of love
Universal soundings climax
Imparts
Beneath the eyes of God
When we both were created
As one
She holds my cheek
And the ghostly press
Of lips meet
I
Confess my soul
To the indomitable
Flow
Of love
And the orchestral designs of morning
Send this rockets emotive
Burning
Reaching
Powered to pinicles
In a cavalcade chords
Goes racing
Cavorting
Climbing every space
My spirit
Has loosed upon the chase
To its welcome home
For such an exuberant ride
All on its own
Takes it place
At her side
I
It is there
Where I belong
You see
Every atom
And concept of me
Has always been
Since God created us
Both
As one
Lady liberty, hold your flame light high,
Beware the path thy cross, in the wild undiscovered
Wilderness of the U.S.A.
For it is here a fierce native predator,
Stalks the rocky ranges bad lands,
Behold the American mountain lion.
Known as the cougar.
Nature's solitary soldier, walks with
Silences stealth and predatory cunning.
Beneath the thickets underbrush,
The beast does savor, upon his preys weakness,
And relishes the hunt of engagement.
Secretive creature, an apex hunter,
Wearily observing, his natural habitats
Surroundings, this king
Survives by tooth and claw alone.
Once hunted to the brink of extinction,
At the hands of mankind, and greed's bounty.
Nobility's instinctual majesty, has reclaimed
His mighty throne, on the cliff tops high.
The cougar, represents a come backs promise,
We as American's shall leave none of our
Own behind, has recovered and announces
His arrival with a mighty roar.
In the heights forbidden realm, the big horn sheep,
Smacks his antlers against his reveling foe,
It's soundings echo is heard for miles,
Abreast the whitening fallen snow,
But the great feline lord, has now returned,
To his ancestral territory, a shadow flash,
Of golden brown, a royal phantom to
The art of war, clashing with basic instincts
Desire to survive.
Behold the pride stands tall, upon the
Red bands of freedom, nay liberation’s
Symbol soars above the lion's den,
Beneath the night's sky shines with
Old glory's stars hanging in beauty's favor,
We honor him, this the great American lion,
The Cougar.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
From the wild western plains, I call unto thee my sister of the poetic heart,
Where have thee gone, swallowed whole by a desert storm, or lost amongst
The tumble weed of discontent.
Let the blazing heart of Texas yield thy freedom’s liberation, come home to
The pages of this sacred internet outpost, we miss your shining star, called
Friendship that you gave unto us, Linda, the poet destroyer.
From the depth of the very waters of the Ohio Basin I do call,
Let my voice be heard unto one and all, against the breath of the
Winds of dust, hear me my sister poet, let the soundings crash ripple
Like a wave upon the ocean of sand, echoing across the aroid landscape
Of Houston, we miss you come home!!
Oh upon hell’s storm the night winds do shudder and shake, with
Leaving inspirations heart to ache, what festering wounds have thy
Left behind thee, without our muse we are just the blind wondering
In the darkness of our own thoughts, unable to write with strengths endurance,
Any longer.
Behold a phantom shade am I, a thin wisp of breeze melting beneath the
Desert sun, seeking a mirages illusion known as my sister poet, Called
Linda, the poet destroyer.
A vintage portrait of my former self, without your words of wondrous
Expression my colors run together, and bleed asunder from my canvas once
So miraculous.
But here in my winter of ice cold, in this chamber of the frozen soul,
I call unto you, with one last icy blast of breath come home, unto us,
Don’t let us freeze in this dungeon warm us instead with your words
Of kinship, and friendship.
Let my words echo unto Houston, Texas, let our Linda answer our hailing,
So inspirations sisterhood can breathe once more a sigh of relief at last.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Not a true Choka...but uses a 5,7,7,5,7,7 format
-------------------------------------------------
Chill, steaming vapour;
Silence over pale water;
Faded, thin wisps of ribboned
Pink
Above the east gate;
I dip oars...and silence
Breaks.
Trace of flame in lilac sky.
Raise, lean, dip and pull;
Sculling forward little
Twirls
Swirl away from dripping
Blades;
Uplifted soul -- soaring!
Remembering how, when young...
Each new day would bring
New hope.
Extends the shoreline --
Sweeping inwards at the
Point;
Green bulrushes in the bay;
A bittern booming:-
Rising up like slow thunder
Drifting out of jade mountains.
My busied childhood,
Hidden pate not yet shaven;
Shrimping with a fine mesh
Net;
Loud, boyish laughter;
Brimming jars crammed with
Sunbeams --
The golden, darting minnows.
Horizon widens,
Shadow retreats from low
Hills;
Gathering orb comforts me;
Selfsame warm comfort
When held by sleepy women
In cold grey of early dawn.
The vaguest murmur,
Faint as drowsy breathe,
Of the soundings of dim chimes...
A call to prayer?
Hands hard-clenched on the
Staid oars;
Restrained by yesteryear.
rested
en repose,
absorbing
change,
strengthened
by living
by ideas
by contrasts
by soundings:
slight
impressions
magnify,
and glow
to satisfy
my
muse
again
We met in rage, incarnadine fury,
meandered, then, became tenacious friends.
From wary circling hearts, we took the chance,
we joined our hands, we spun in place, we laid
a spiral architecture down, we formed
a spring, mosaic metal, powerful
enough to shoot us through life's remainder.
Our kids launched off, angelic, ravenous,
diaphanous, eloquent quintessence
of you and me, the luminous javelins
so deftly thrown, that hit the lustrous mark,
where they began their own soliloquies.
So placidly we now relax, with love,
For azure shards and lyric gleams we seek,
the moonlight in our glade, mellifluous
in all its soundings, serendipity
of sylvan lore, ephemeral saffron
at birth the lunar light, it shows your face,
it coalesces inception's recall,
I see you as that first explosive day.
December 6, 2016
For the 'SHOOTING BLANK VERSE - Poetry Contest' sponsored by John Lawless.
Deathless Aches, Heart's Desires
Thoughts of Heart are as mystical ships that traverse
Ranging amidst the restless ocean ways,
Their crimson prows surging through the sunrise,
Their golden sails adream in evening haze.
Thoughts of broken spirit wander sadly
Unfriendly waters; raging, storm-shattered they roam;
Sea-reft their beauty, moaning all their music,
No haven dares to call them home.
Far sundered are their soundings, far diverging
Magic winds that sing their course,
For some may find the Hesperides, but others,
Those far, sad and dark islands of Remorse.
There they may safely harbor, dark as hell's morn
Awaiting in that cradle, where deathless aches are born!
Robert J. Lindley, 10-13-2015
Note- Non-traditional sonnet, archaic messaging.
*****************************************
(A) "adream"--Webster's Third New International Dictionary
adream adjective
Etymology: a- (I) + dream, v.
dreaming
old people motionless and adream
- See more at: http://findwords.info/term/adream#sthash.UnF3w8ZI.dpuf
(B) "reft" ---A past tense and a past participle of reave.
reave
rev/
verbarchaic
carry out raids in order to plunder.
rob (a person or place) of something by force.
"reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast"
steal (something).
source- https://encrypted.google.com/#q=reave+definition
(C) "sundered"--sun·der
's?nd?r/
verbliterary
past tense: sundered; past participle: sundered
split apart.
"the crunch of bone when it is sundered"
synonyms: divide, split, cleave, separate, rend, sever, rive
"his father and he were sundered by religious differences"
(D) Hesperides--Definition of HESPERIDES. 1. : a legendary garden at the western extremity of the world producing golden apples. 2. : the nymphs in classical mythology who guard with the aid of a dragon a garden in which golden apples grow.
Hesperides | Definition of Hesperides by Merriam-Webster
www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/HesperidesMerriam-Webster
IMPRESSIONS of REALITY
becoming
enmeshed
in endless
detail
in the shadows
startling
depictions
turmoil
&fireworks
with
extreme reactions
the
interconnectedness
of
change over
time
raising questions
reflecting
the influence
both
inspire&
surround
to
shape ideas
&present
emphasising
the integral
soundings
& thus
showcases
the
three-dimensional
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Revered are the Stars that spring you,
acclaimed the moon who enlightens your path.
Hold me in-between your laps -a haven of infinity.
Let me understand your warmth:cold forever despised.
My upstairs in scatteration-your decked face observe.
Wait on the Mortal strand where the Hollow of your thighs is consummated.
Freeze me in you,the World a single figure appear.
You make the Soundings of my Heart so deafening:inaudible to Mortals.
You arrest my Soul at the sight of your tasty sight,
Your Kiss treasure-coated-a well of honey sunk.
Miles apart,your nose my passion reborn.
Broadened is the way on your breast of monogamy where to the brim am made.
Push me from this road:the Sting of death nearing.
Fire me alive;eat me raw,if ever scorned of your touch.
I’m asleep, therefore nothing exists.
Just my mind and a hangover from last night being pissed
Existence is only evident from the point I open my eyes
And the pain I feel from the knife in the back and the remembrance of my lies.
Nevertheless, from the point I am aware on my surroundings
Time starts and existence is hand in hand and evident from my wife’s snore soundings
The room is hear from what my mind allows me to apprehend
But existence so far is limited to the room and does not transcend
I walk to the door and pause for a while
A thought crosses my mind and makes me smile
May be existence is what I want it to be
So I thought of a mansion full of beautiful women this is what I wanted to see
Open the bedroom door and, DAM! same old house and what is more
I can still hear the old bag snoring behind the door
Uh! My mind is familiar with this picture and I cannot change
Or it would cause a rift in the time continuum so existence we cannot rearrange
I get ready for work and off I drive
After a stiff coffee I feel alive
Yes! Yes! Now non existence comes in to play
House and the wife don’t exist but a familiar travel path to work in a new day.
So I get to work and everything I left behind does not exist
But something makes me clench my fist
The nonexistent wife is calling me on the phone
This is the rift in time reminding me that there is a wife and a home
My mysterious life in these elusive underwater surroundings
Keeps my clan of beings alert and cautious of vigilant threats.
As I travel ahead of the others in search of sonar echo soundings
My large companions shelter me from danger and unforeseen duress.
Our ability to communicate is both charmed and miraculous
But somehow natural yet strangely foreign at the same time.
We share a methodically linked core of something fabulous
As we couple our lives so differently in these waters of prime.
Keeping my species alive is an ultimate challenge of sacrifice
I skewer large specimens to first feed the females and young.
Danger approaches attempting to devour on it's own appetite
I must lure the forthcoming away by devising a disturbing flung.
The jaws of the shark opens and then bites, barely missing my tail
My humpback ally heroically aids to accommodate the safety of my kind.
We rapidly scurry to our refuge in the deeper depths below without fail
Once again I scout onward to assure our lives of existence intertwined.
Contest~~Personify Any Animal of Your Choosing~~
Immigrant Birdsong
uncertain soundings
searching for a place to rest
endless journey home
3/31/10 2:37 am
'Loving you!' chuckled I, 'Yes loving you!'
I awoke and flung the air
Amazed that you are here
Loving you - tormentor of my dreams
'Loving you!' said I, 'thing of heartthrob'
Grazing upon you you just nod
Deep into that darkness chatting
And the ear never reminiscing
Loving you
With such a passion for dissing
I discovered the conversations
Loving you
Still is dismissing, still is dismissing
I discovered the soundings
Loving you
Take thy communication from out my heart
To warn me about the attention
Loving you
I crave the cold, compassionate christian
Take thy traffic from out my heart
Loving you
That stenographic intercommunication
- that spectrographic intercommunication
And yet not trying to be redundant
I am thankful I so choose
For I hear my ear and my heart we as will as my spirit choose
I do love you
Loving you
3/30/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
i go in the morning,
as i normally do, and
warm my cup of coffee,
robust awakenings to today,
sit down and begin to arouse and
contemplate the day before me
after a bit, i move about and
down the last of the cup,
then i swish the final in
and i realize immediately
and run to the kitchen sink
a few steps away
...and spit out.
i look down and see
a dark form in the sink
unmoving, i mindfully think,
a fly, as dead as...day
with revulsion i feel
the solidness still
within my mouth bouncing
across my tongue,
and glance again
to the bottom of the sink
and spy the second fly!
two dead flies i surmise
were stroking in my cup
in the romance of the night,
buzzing vaguely French soundings
between them, ripples expanding
in their caffeinated pool
"aaah, my dear you make me
feel so alive! so energized!"
"oooh, i too feel alive my love
in this cool dark water
with you...drowning beside me"
and i wonder if these
anthropomorphic house flies
really loved each other...really,
and would prefer to...go down,
together rather than fly alone
past one more night of
speeding blissful intercourse
touching, still, it leaves a
peculiar taste in my mouth
© Goode Guy 2011-10-04
a guy, alas, a true story.
---
addendum:
four days later, i wake and
find my cup in the kitchen.
a bit more savvy now
i dump the inch or so
left in the cup, in the sink
a dark form, forlorn, lies still
the winged jilted lover,
i think, how bittersweet,
that the third too, wished
to commit caffeinated suicide
now that the pot is hot and
a new day is possible
© Goode Guy 2011-10-08