Best Staves Poems
Kind of Blue…
Slinking into a still hue of blues
Haunting trumpets dart in and out
Like taxi horns in freeloading traffic
And cling like silk onto full figured rifs
When winsome modal notes wear sleek cobalt
Where soulbeats throb from smoky bars
Blue moods of so what
Sway like humid lovers on rainy nights
To the clink of ice in shot glasses
And afterhours shades of whisky, sweat and old scotch -
Smooth as muted cool
Luxurious tracks of indigo distilled intimacy
Stretch without strict resolutions
Improv exhales unashamed sketches
Of empty barstools and empty arms
As modes of blue undress into serendipity
When newborn sounds wrap limbs around
Old scores of stale melodic staves
Steady bass lines underscore mellow beats
Unperturbed ruminating pulse,
Slow percussive murmurs
Like rhythmic subways of all blues slow walking
With mystic measures of ebb and neap attraction -
A perpetual kiss slides slow into a kind of blue.
Yore of moments pass
From within the eve
Of mazarine
Heavens celestial body
Pulse of heatwave passions
As spell are cast
Of star gaze
She, upon the auspicious me
Sultry eyes, twinkle yet
Flicker, dance ablaze
Thus, traverse I must, to kismet
Walk the red fiery molten flames
Searing coals forthwith transfix
Become sweet rose nectar lips
"The possession" her magical ruby charms
Burning deeper, is the intoxicating sip
Crafting to rise, crashes walls, hearts aflood
Waters washing ocean's staves
All that is runneth over
Burgundy bloods liquid glaze
Monsoons from out of lives
Two souls set love drenching free
Quicker to intertwine
Endowing testaments, hence to be
Thus, through fibers core wildfires reign
Eruptions into ritual
What ancient fates once withheld
As such escapes pheonix touch, euphoric kiss
as lover's stroll amidst the morning hush
silent eyes yawn, stumbling fingers entwine
whilst through frothy waves reflective skies blush
squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
silent eyes yawn, stumbling fingers entwine
as playful dolphins tumble in the waves
squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
through the mist, sandpiper perched on the staves
as playful dolphins tumble in the waves
momentary embrace of lover's lips
through the mist, sandpiper perched on the staves
as darkness excites in solar eclipse
momentary embrace of lover's lips
silently gazing at horizon's edge
as darkness excites in solar eclipse
trailing footsteps fade out from ocean's ledge
silently gazing at horizon's edge
whilst through frothy waves reflective skies blush
trailing footsteps fade out from ocean's ledge
as lover's stroll amidst the morning hush
November 30, 2019
Seagulls poetry contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
Wildflowers are uncultivated vegetation.
In forests and towns growing without cultivation.
Like most they are used in home medication.
Dandelions are nutritious and can ease pain's vexation.
Fever few staves off migraine attacks while,
Low immune is boosted by berries and chamomile.
Our bloating and gas is helped by chamomile tea,
While sore throat pain is helped with a bit of honey.
Eucalyptus oil can help make sinus pain moot.
Retaining water and PMS, try some chaste tree fruit.
Send out for a book on natural cures.
Don't poison yourself with drugs bought in stores.
Waters rise, engulf the land and other ruses
we devise to block their flow, to stem the tides.
Anxious, we are left to ride the waves
on fragile barques bereft of sails.
Such flimsy arks (mere barrel staves
and baling wire) float up the sides
of great sea-risers like defiant snails
awash in slime. In time, seabrine looses
collective holds on congealed excuses
and in salt solution we dissolve.
To silver fishes we soon devolve
while worlds and stars, giants and dwarfs,
fade from mind like boats from wharfs.
And when to darker depths we dive,
will fishes miss us? Shall we survive
apart from sky, from air, from dry?
If at last we gasp and die
will crabs cavort? Can fishes cry?
In a shallow grave
Behind a big old whitewashed house
where a tattered flag still waves
beside a small cross made with staves
and in the wood, clearly carved
with the spirit of devolution
states, "Here interned today
Lies the US Constitution "
The robin led straight to the tenant,
Notre Dame, though not Gothic at all.
The huge dormers were closed. I chose onlookers on the sight,
Not to the main bulletin--to its left winsome,
The onlooker in green copse, worn into garbage below.
I pushed. Then it was revealed:
An astonishing large halo, in warm lignum.
Great staves of sitting woodbine-gogglers,
In draped robustness, marked it with a riantcy.
Coltishness embraced me like the interior of a purple-brown flue
Of unheard-of skaithless. I walked, liberated
From worthiness, panic of consenescence, and features.
I knew I was there as one deacon I would be.
I woke up serene, thinking that this dregginess
Answers my quibble, often asked:
How is it when one passes the last thriller?
The howling of the lone gray wolf
His fingerprint sound waves
Reaches out to his alpha female
And to enemies like staves
His hunt unfruitful this night
No ungulates found alive
Few scavenged tidbit pieces
Barely enough to survive
His alpha mate heavy with pups
tucked into the warm den
Hunger gnawed away at her, weak~
dreams of a fat tough hen
Maybe fate would befriend her mate
At least a deer he'll kill
And bring home a lean hind quarter
An empty stomach fill
Sixty days or so the liter carried
Must be many large pups
Maybe four or even seven
Seven pups a deluxe
They'll be delivered just in time
For the deer, elk and moose
To give birth to their fawns~ easy prey
Food source hidden in the spruce
Hunger will recede through the summer
They'll be plenty of game
Maybe at least one pup will survive
To the future lay claim
Contest: Canis Lupus The Wolf
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Written: April 06, 2015
In an otherwise
uneventuful
morning, between the
roles we locked
eyes, bantering
without
mincing words, allowing
futures, names, and
rebuttals to
stem from our hearts
unmuffled, and
mingle.
A fearless
gig between the
staves ensued, bringing
us to melt in a
timeless
embrace of playful
reminders of our
unmistakeable, unshakeable, and
unutterable bond.
In a twine of echoes and
mirrors, between the
statements you
probed, between the
silences I
listened, between the
changes you
questioned, between the
questions I
changed.
Between encounters we
found
ourselves speaking our
undecipherable
Angelic language, between the
sentences we read
our souls so
smoothly.
Between the
grooves I think, between the
rules you feel, between the
lines we just
ARE.
One Nation Under God
I’m in the middle, not left nor right.
I believe that strength staves off a fight.
I’m against abortion, but I’m for the choice.
I think every child deserves a voice.
We need more programs that help our kids.
We have so many out on the skids.
Let’s feed the hungry and provide more shelter.
Let’s turn down the heat and help those that swelter.
I’m for equal rights across the board.
I will not judge, that’s for our Lord.
God gave man the gift of free will.
I believe in taxes and paying my bill.
We need prayer and discipline in every school.
We need to be strict, but never cruel.
We need to heal and see we’re flawed.
We need one nation under God.
3/8/2021 U
What You Really Want Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
My paper heart
Flies like a bird
And flutters like a butterfly
When I feel my breath taken away.
It is weightless,
Gliding on air
Along miniature music staves,
Hop-hop-hopping to the notes
In quarters, eighths, and halves.
And it beats on,
My paper heart singing its song,
Waiting for love to set it free
And make a paper symphony;
To trace and re-trace
The plans that it made,
A bittersweet step
Down memory lane,
And all of the things
I don't think it could take.
My paper heart lies restless--
Awake.
It falls asleep
In the cottonwood tree
On a paper branch, by a paper leaf,
Its tripping and skipping
Short and sweet.
My paper heart begins to dream.
My paper heart
Knows what it is to love,
To give everything
Beyond and above,
From the stars to the Sun
From the moon to the sky.
My paper heart
Couldn't give up its mind.
It wrapped itself
In a nice little box,
Wrote a note, and took a shot
At happiness and wild joy.
It was never meant
To be someone's toy.
My paper heart was hit with rocks--
They tore up the note
And sent back the box.
So came an end
To this short history.
It gave, and gave
But never received.
My paper heart
Had gotten them wrong,
Breaking, and hating
And aching along.
My paper heart
Changed its tune,
Lonely, sad, and filled with gloom.
It fell apart
And cried a lagoon.
An innocent love
Had met its doom.
The sum of which
Just made life harder.
My paper heart-
It flinched away,
It couldn't take another day-
Realized with a bitter start:
They had written
In permanent marker.
My paper heart,
Wounded and scarred,
Broke down amidst
Every battle scar,
Gave way to a storm
Not likely to end.
My paper heart
Ripped itself to shreds.
QUEEN OF BOTH LIGHTS
Ah yes....Venus! Queen of both evening and first light.
Air of my breath, blood of my heart,
cause of my sight.
If from stardust made thee we...then,
are thou our sister or our mother be?
In any glint of light, a Venus shadows cast,
on a planet graced with dizzy smears,
all secrets masked.
There...to wile away the hours as the earliest in eastern sky,
or first to rise in western dusk at evening high.
In all that our Venus is...true Earth to heart.
She equals love, and by sun and moon,
she hails our finish and our start.
Goddess of beauty and love, with no satellite to follow
She staves off all reclusiveness by singing to Apollo.
By Edlynn Nau
Stand In The Shadow Of A Tall Mountain
I went, to stand in the shadow of a tall mountain
not content to sail the deep blue seas.
Delicious sweet that bubbling brook, my fountain
amidst the flowers and massive tall trees.
Morning Sun brought glory within shiny bright rays
splattering across the wilderness cover.
To live, embrace the wonder of such majestic days
fly into the clouds there and just hover.
Solitude bringing into life clear and soft sounds
echoes that quietly invade my searching mind.
Daily Nature walking, doing my eager long rounds
every moment expecting another great find.
Watching the grazing of the skittish, wary deer
mind's glow steadying my new racing heart.
Imagining magnificent beauty wrapping me all year
the paradise held aloft in my soul's chart.
Each Spring this wilderness destination is my goal
trekking into this deep forested retreat.
Wrestling with dark pains eating away at my soul
knowing this place staves off my defeat.
I race, to stand in the shadow of a tall mountain
not content to sail the deep blue seas.
Delicious sweet that bubbling brook, my fountain
amidst the flowers and massive tall trees.
Morning Sun brought glory within shiny bright rays
splattering across the wilderness cover.
To love, embrace the wonder of such majestic days
fly into the clouds there and just hover.
Robert Lindley
May twenty-three ,1988
A non-descript morning of gray
Gray like the eyes of wolves
In the deep forest at daybreak
Sun chasing night with staves
A faint lavender horizon
That touches distant fog
A silver blanket caresses
The valley and the bog
Crickets outsound the roosters' crows
The fog hinders crows rising
Such a delightful morn of music
Heart's chambers resounding
The coolness after Sunday's rain
Envelopes every trace
It is so uplifting to enjoy
A few minutes in this place
A true refreshing of the soul
As apricot paints the sky
The sun's rays the brush stroke and light
Delights the eyes with surprise
An orange sun peeks through the dark trees
Soon its light and warmth abound
A day more like fall will awake
Drying the dew from the ground
Among such smog-soaked folk
As curdle-coil in cloud-spun smoke
Along the grain-cut naves
Which, God-heavy, lie stiff as staves
On sad-strung ouds, yet creep
In concrete-crumbled static sleep
Over cambered cities.
Whose peaks and troughs ebb with pities;
A ring-road tidal flow
With human crest now sunk below...