Best Southwards Poems
Rather lost, they stare over the divide,
how best to circumnavigate this obstacle?
They can see a path gently sloping down
but it is far off to the north two days ride.
West is back from whence they had come,
east is an impassable cliff of sheer rocks.
They can not see far to the south but maybe,
they talk it over and head into the unknown.
Tumble weed rolling by pushed by the wind
as playfully it blows them into their path.
Miniscule trees dot the flat plateau
and small shrubs popping up here and there.
In a hurry they head on swiftly southwards
and soon start to descend to the valley below.
Billy is pale with anxiety as they push on
his wife Betty is due to give birth.
Sammy casts worried looks at his friend knowing
there is little he can say that will help.
At last they reach the valley and gallop on
Just another five miles will they make it in time?
Their horses now struggling, sweat pouring off them.
Billy's homestead comes into view cattle scattering
as they gallop through the herd and into the yard.
Sammy hangs back as Billy dashes in to Betty.
In full labour she screams "Where have you been?"
"The preacher is here to wed us. Did you get the ring?"
"I have it here" said Billy and without delay they were married.
And within minutes the twins arrived a boy and girl both bawling.
"Geezers you cut that close Billy" said Sammy
as they slumped on the front porch drinking beer.
"We made it in the nick of time" replied Billy
flushed with the joy and fulfilment of life.
written 17/09/2014
contest: Cowboys in the Badlands
sponsor Isaiah
southwards
to the sun-
follow the light,
annual migration's
begun-
nomads
of nowhere,
without a care
baggage,passports or cheap
airfare
Nineteen nosey newts nudged nasty nautical nannies
Eighteen eager ermines excitedly edged everyone’s ego
Seventeen sacred slugs sat sideways searching seagulls
Sixteen slippery snails slid southwards sipping sangria
Fifteen flowery foxes fell forward fondling fuchsias
Fourteen frantic fleas froze fighting frightening fanatics
Twelve twiddling tigers told thirteen tasteless tales
Eleven elderly elephants embellished eighteen ebony earrings
Ten terrified tardy ticks tricked two thirsty Turkish tramps
Nine naughty nasal know-it-alls knew nothing nearing knowledge
Eight elastic earthworms echoed eighty edgy Egyptians
Seven solemn snakes slithered slowly sensing sunshine
Six sassy silk-moths sceptically squished spinach selfishly
Five funny fatties feared following fancy French fashion
Four fantastic faithful Finnish flies faked famous farcical facelifts
Three tenacious terriers thrilled twelve tipsy throbbing thespians
Two tireless Tanzanian tapirs tittle tattled tirelessly throughout Tuesday
One obedient oily octopus offered obnoxious orangutans oranges outrageously
When we first met, in love we used to glide
on waves of bliss like pairs of sunglow swans,
now we slowly totter,and try to hide
our orthopaedic socks and thick long johns.
We still hold hands like back on that first date
but now it's less a gesture, decades on
else I'd walk off ahead then have to wait
while you found something firm to lean upon.
You said you'd like a skirt to match your eyes
I did my very best but must confess
I went to every shop but no-one buys
or maybe no-one sells a bloodshot dress.
you run your fingers through my hair a bit,
these days I marvel just how fast it goes
these greying locks ,well, what remains of it,
from off my scalp and southwards to my nose.
Annoying habits met with just a sigh,
you snoring on the sofa after tea
or ducking as my nail clippings shoot by,
or leaving used bags out when making tea.
Love's outer shell is merely just it's name,
inside it's precious pearl remains the same.
Cruising southwards to LA from Sac
a midnight filled with songs ‘n Luna,
light-etching hills in a black infernal…
It was a leviathan’s back on which I
felt the tires unrolling a chilled grief ~
Owlish-full, a hypnotic moon, ‘n Dido
reminiscing tunefully about surrender
negating white flags and loves forlorn...
Inside the eye, a wispy face smiled hi
and gently slid open a papery fusuma...
Dazed, I held her gaze, so undead
Round face framed in softest ether
exhaling cool peppermint to inhale ~
Amaranth rains of fleeting gardenia,
mildly-scented dawn's astral gloam ***
(11/2/2020)
The stars were twinkling
as the moon danced
sending beaming rays
to float over the earth.
Casting shadows over all
in the still of the night.
We lay entwined
fingers wandering southwards.
Our breath hot and passionate
as we danced the age old dance.
Reaffirming our love as
slowly we rose to climax.
By the river reflecting
the majesty of the sky.
Adding poignancy
to our deep abiding love
The summer day I stood outside
And lifted my face to the sky,
Turned my face to the sun,
Without fear of consequence;
The busy December morning
I ran through the snowstorm,
Laden with packages
And stopped to feel
Snowflakes melting on my cheeks;
The morning I heard music
From the car stopped next to mine
At a red light,
And sang along;
The crisp fall day
I saw a clean V of geese
Flying southwards
And stopped to watch ‘til they disappeared;
The dawning realization:
I was free to give up control's illusion,
I was free to veer off my chosen path,
I was free to be random.
Random:
Total immersion and surrender
Into something unplanned;
As close to flying
As is humanly possible.
[‘random’, from Old French, 'randir', to gallop,
as in the moment a horse at full speed has all four hooves off the ground.]
Crimson twilight, stained glass sunsets bled
Frost tipped flowers of summers fled
Migrating flocks, southwards led
Gatherings to break bread
Chrysanthemum spread
Autumnal bed
Overhead
Wind sped
Red
11/07/19
For 'Rhyming Nonet' contest
Sponsor: charles messina
As sunburned skies kiss August goodbye, on molten wings southwards they fly...
09/09/20
Why square? I wondered
Drifting together in a stream of faith;
Broken promises, shattered ambitions, hopeful desperation and the misled
Like a river we flow
Revolving, spinning, orbiting
Here, at this very place
Here lies the direction for those who seek
But why square?
A myriad of people from various walks of life
Flocked in this once barren land
Like migratory birds they came, with a call to answer
A rhythm to complete
As did the one who built it
But why square?
Perhaps it’s the rigidity, or the flaw-seeking locals,
Or the bawling puppets who stick like mould to stone
Wonder if it’s justified to ask so many questions
After all, it is not meant to complicate
Repulsiveness surged in me
Now’s not the right time...
To commit is to surrender; bare and defenseless
My mind’s a web and heart infested
Perhaps
It’s for those who spiral southwards
For in the square’s a circle of solace
March is unique here --
Auburn leaves dropping from trees,
Returning to dust,
Chilling winds howling southwards
Heralding winter's coming.
SUMMER MOMENTS
Long,lazy days,dry and warm
dozing on the lawn;
shadows flicker
across my eye;
blown on the wind,
a brown butterfly;
my fingers reach
to touch the sky,
swallows, circle,
then southwards fly;
large round spots
splash into my lap
down my neck
raindroplets,trickle;
Summer,shaded gold
becomes monsoon,
berries rot beneath the
bramble. No breeze tonight
trees pose statuesque,
flowers icily still,
time slows to a stop
grasses stand to attention's call
thought holds on pause
air has that feel of fall.
Listen to me read this poem on youtube under name of ichthyschiro
Measure of society by embarrassment,
being a part of that state establishment.
The informed shared interest that knows,
wasters that claim to be the institution vows.
Bound to rigid ness and as politic direction sold,
crippled down industrial economics manifold.
They speak about the future with excuses of term,
the apparent freedom labeled to confirm.
Fountain of endless information provided,
to cut out every possibilities confided.
Heartless encyclopedia of laws that bend,
credited shares that southwards went.
Documentaries are the new CV’s,
desperate actions tell a story in degrees.
Seeing the worth of our ecological disaster,
recognizing the evil in the name of profit master.
Being the statue and a number without a will,
and constantly forging out the nonsense bill.
Expectations show that mirror of our mind,
reflections of trusting governance what we cannot find.
Patterns of generation by bounded sorrow,
shifting statistics for more to borrow.
Great souls take on true responsibility,
attention seekers doing so through hostility.
Within the state of human legacy of grace,
we can rise above the sense of duty pace.
Within the state of human legacy of grace,
we can rise above the political bureaucratic maze.
Service in perception of honor provided,
caring governance not complicated.
Have you ever known a skier’s mind
when the leaves turn yellow and red?
As frost forms before the drive to work
and the lawnmower is put to bed?
When all you feel is a bracing chill,
and southwards all the large birds have fled?
The first taste of what is lying in wait
will start a snowstorm within our minds.
While leafers drive, see orange and brown,
inside of our poor brains you will find
a landscape painted all up in snow,
we keep watching the low temps at night.
See Fall is just an appetizer,
not a final flourish before sleep,
taunts us with hints of snow on the air,
we start praying that it’ll fall deep;
doing a snow-dance, gifts to Ullr,
do not let this year be mild, please!
Reading what’s new at our best mountains,
web-site says they’ll be opening soon,
a ribbon of white amidst the brown,
spotting those first tall snowmaking plumes,
can’t wait for frigid air in my lungs…
I don’t care if you think I’m a loon.
* Paid my heed my friends for the frost giants begin their march southwards,
* and their hounds of winter ,shall Slather and bay awaiting direction from their masters
* as then ,
* they fall upon us .
* Even the sun wains back at the feel and shadow of their March.
* Our brothers the oaks stand true ,
* as these giants now put breath upon them.
* And so it is ,
* the sacred grove now sent to slumber,
* until the giants and their hounds, call for retreat.
* The longest night approaches and no advance can be made in our labours,
* For the ground is now of stone and freezing fire ice .
* We shield their attack with fur cloaks , glowing hearths and summers blessed mead .
* Our friends, family and forgiven foes gather and give thanks to the old year and for its bounty.
* Calls for the sun to return and warmth for the soil ,
* echo amongst all present .
* In the coming born year may our land , wives , and beasts be fruitful.
* Now darkness is abound,
* but for this bastion of kindred folk , the hounds of winter now tearing at the door , scream their howling and send their cold and shrills, about this protected steading .
* Grandfather places his knowing hand upon a beam "The carved runes in this lintel shall keep the frost wolves from our door, since ages past, and so mote it be" .
* All nod and agree at this given truth.
* But
* Not but for the silver light of our lady would we know anywhere else existed this darkening , he exclaims ! .
* A drum starts to beat softly as the crones of this gathered tribe begin to chant .
* Our oldest tribe member steps forward, for on this night they will carry the youngest in their arms .
* Together it will be their honour to sing for the log of Yule to then be consumed by this ,
* our holy fire .
* As the longest night starts its ending and the folk kneel beside the sacred glow messages are shouted to those who have passed through the great veil .
* They hear our shouts of love and joy , they hear us call their names as we tell them , "all is well ".
* We send our gratitude ,thanks and blessings may they be,
* as we have been, on this longest of all nights