Best Steeply Poems
Behind our house, below the deck
with its pleasing benches and sylvan view,
the back yard we have descends steeply
to a little stream called Chimacum Creek.
It is September, so the Creek’s waters
are shallow, so shallow that
little music from its ripple and flow
rises to meet our eager, listening ears above.
Any day now, the waters will surrender
their serenity and in noisy salute
yield to thrashing thunder,
as salmon spawn and meet their demise.
Sheltering us there from summer’s heat
and winter’s chilled and rainy drench,
a little family of barred owls often call and beg,
their nocturne nearly undisturbed by our home's intrusion.
Outside, my wife stands in solitary contemplation,
for this is her temple, and she its worthy guest.
Yet the minutes and hours pass so slowly now,
as grief stands weary watch with her.
We had grown so accustomed to our dear child’s
heartened ways, as ever eager to greet us
at morning’s hesitant, uncertain dawning glow
as at evening’s surrender to curl upon our bed to sleep.
Jet black hair and soft green eyes—her special dance
each moment to delight us so, we had never ever
thought today would bring us only fading echoes of
all we held so dear in this sweet and tender form.
No matter that she had a tail and two more legs than us,
she lived and loved and spoke with such eloquence
and grace, the best of us were shamed.
Angels withheld not their envy and begged for her return.
So grieve with us a moment, for fled is now
that little feline snowflake in our hand.
My rhyme is vanished; my muse is stilled.
Shadow was her name.
Oh how sweet the taste of living, its soothing full; and joy..
This spring..' roll fields of clover, where ride the horse & boy
when wide blue sky is stretching, and forest boughs show green
there sweetly smile the maidens, as farmers feel like kings
upon the shaded benches, people sit this day; the lark is rising steeply
where winds a dust clad; pilgrims way..'
Morality’s general
with an intimidating aura
and a commanding presence;
this charisma’s description
is a single lane void of corners
written in a dictionary
consisting of a single page.
Blamelessness so standardized
to be empirical
and ruthless to liberalism.
Pragmatism functions but under
the administration of apt discipline
with no chance for taste
and appetite to have their says.
Lips when open
are gates for words of absolution.
Yeah and nay
never exchanging importance
and with an illumination
so exact and precise
that even distant acquaintances
can join in attestation
of its attributes
to become a part of a bunch
of its unsolicited witnesses.
Shoulders of personality
grow high above the heads temple
and character, steeply mountainous
and impossible for compromise to climb.
Such dart hits same spot
over and over again on the board;
such skin keeps to its attitude,
never longing to be tanned or bleached
what a wealthy tiny island
so respected by its surrounding waters!
UP AND AWAY
Grumbling rumbling ground falls silent
She feels for freedom with delight
And her wing flaps’ gentle movement
Lets her scale invisible height
Shining metal sheets a-polish
Steeply sloping wings now fly
And massive silver flying fish
Great creature hauls up thru the sky
Rising to the clouds and sun
We hear her engines whine and strain
Hold our breath and urge her on
Thru the sea of mist and rain
Wispy white the clouds are rent
Engines sing their song now soft
Purring as the tension’s spent
In freedom’s sunlight here aloft
silver beams dancing
gently casting deep shadows
that seduce senses
icy waters plunge
steeply down into the lake
forming long ripples
for White Sands National Monument
I float through a vast ocean of white sand,
gliding slowly over the dancing dunes,
some rise gently against the purple mountain backdrop,
some tower steeply, ruling the barren waves,
I am called to soar above them...
Quiet,
the air is silent in the evening sun,
as clouds mimic the sparkling hills,
and the Earth holds her breath,
in awe at her own beauty...
I stretch my arms out to the sides,
and trustfully fall backwards,
embraced by the soft, warm dunes,
cradling my dreams with their lullabies,
I am an infant of the sand spirits...
Man can come and man can go,
and the surrounding mountains may crumble,
but the dunes will last forever,
as these are the sands of time...
I can see it now even without looking that clear view above the steeply dropping
rooftops. That sight is peppered across my childhood memories, the open
moorland, in all weathers and in all seasons. Standing at the top of the road on the
way to where ever, always a brief moment to glance at its beauty. Be it tinged with
purple heather, or covered in snow, sometimes missing altogether in the mists of an
autumn morn, ever constant but never quite the same. Beautiful, yet intangible too
far to run, to young to drive. Even now I long to see that view again with real eyes,
so much so that I suspect, given the car and some time I'd find myself not on the
moor of my childhood desires, but instead atop the hill above the rooftops staring at
the view.
I walked up the rugged cliff for an overview
I was benumbed at the spectacular vista
Of the sunset dowsing out the fire
On the gorges of the grand canyon
I was benumbed at the spectacular vista
That was a delicious treat for my eyes
On the gorges of the grand canyon
The sun caressed the warm ranges
That was a delicious treat for my eyes
I treasured the kaleidoscopic moments
The sun caressed the warm ranges
Walled by the steeply layered rocky desert
I treasured the kaleidoscopic moments
An extravaganza of peaky rocks and plateaus
Stood firm gazing at the spectators gaze at them
The gushing ravines ravaged in the sun splashed gold
An extravaganza of peaky rocks and plateaus
Of the sunset dowsing out the fire
The gushing ravines ravaged in the sun splashed gold
I walked up to the rugged cliff for an overview
April 3, 2016
A Pantoum
For Eve Roper
TRAM BELL
Steep streets everywhere you played,
Where your football would roll away forever;
And sawdust spilt out of the butcher’s onto the steep sidewalk
Among the feet of the tram queue,
All listening keenly to hear the bell sounding
From the tram which was overdue.
All gazing distantly over the rainy Team Valley
And its mills and foundries turning coal
Into steel bridges and ship hulls
For the steeply entrenched Tyne.
At the bell’s sound, everybody shuffled forward,
Leaving the sawdust footprints
To be washed away in the rain.
The rise of the silent
We have come all the way from the darkness,
The one wise men call blindness.
With axes, hoes, we are paving the way,
And our hands aren’t down until there is a way.
We aren’t scared of the lions that roar,
We are the fearless hunters of justice and liberty,
The seekers of equality and humanity:
The quests our old folks failed to complete.
We shall go up in the sky;
We shall dig deep into the ground,
We shall break all the rocks,
We shall go beneath the lakes,
We shall set flames in the wilderness,
We shall bring mountains down.
Steeply the hill we are riding;
Stony the road we are walking
Dark the forest we are hiking
Far the home we shall arrive
For we are like soldiers marching to the war,
With the only one command to go
To the deadly field of woe
We have left our fears of terror behind
To rescue the captives of injustice
To fight for what our folks fought for
And all our heroes died for.
Now let light fight the darkness;
Let the speakers fight the speechless,
Let the dead and the live march to the battle field
Let us sow the seeds we were left with to sow
Let shackles on every man’s hands break
Let every foot rise and stand
Let every mouth rise and speak
Let every tongue speak justice and liberty
Let justice rise and live for eternity
Let the voices be hard from Bwera to Busia
From Mutukula to Amuru
Lift every voice and cry justice.
The rise of the silent
We have come all the way from the darkness,
The one wise men call blindness.
With axes, hoes, we are paving the way,
And our hands aren’t down until there is a way.
We aren’t scared of the lions that roar,
We are the fearless hunters of justice and liberty,
The seekers of equality and humanity:
The quests our old folks failed to complete.
We shall go up in the sky;
We shall dig deep into the ground,
We shall break all the rocks,
We shall go beneath the lakes,
We shall set flames in the wilderness,
We shall bring mountains down.
Steeply the hill we are riding;
Stony the road we are walking
Dark the forest we are hiking
Far the home we shall arrive
For we are like soldiers marching to the war,
With the only one command to go
To the deadly field of woe
We have left our fears of terror behind
To rescue the captives of injustice
To fight for what our folks fought for
And all our heroes died for.
Now let light fight the darkness;
Let the speakers fight the speechless,
Let the dead and the live march to the battle field
Let us sow the seeds we were left with to sow
Let shackles on every man’s hands break
Let every foot rise and stand
Let every mouth rise and speak
Let every tongue speak justice and liberty
Let justice rise and live for eternity
Let the voices be hard from Bwera to Busia
From Mutukula to Amuru
Lift every voice and cry justice.
He's gliding,
Lightly down the hill –
The ancient track, the Hollow Way.
He's hungry,
Searching for a kill:
He must locate a meal today.
Our eyes meet.
His, like two dark pools,
Impenetrable, golden rimmed.
His wingspan,
At least a metre
Tip to tip; majestic power.
Yet gliding
Seems so effortless –
Master of conserved energy.
Closing speed,
Buzzard to vehicle
Approaching thirty miles per hour !
Collision
Unavoidable ?
Urgent action now required.
With two flaps
Of those giant wings
He's climbing steeply overhead,
Gracefully
Alights on a branch
Watches my progress with disdain.
Mem'rable
My experience :
Close encounter of the bird kind !
Discrediting plausibility
by shredding their humility
to a place of vulnerability
devoured by inabilities
cowardice incompetence
showered into consciousness
empowered causing confidence
validation found in compliments
a false sense of accomplishment
resort to intense punishment
to knock down their competitors
who speak of truth not metaphors
that could reverse their actual course
see them falling through floorboards
far from craved credited applause
a status low as though blackballed
on salaries always needing more
survival gifting no rewards
a personality to be ignored
social skills which leave them bored
testing humans to their core
needing a win but cannot score
electrical without a cord
no plug socket or power source
as management you were assured
entitlement had power stored
defensive walls they reinforced
the canon fire rains then pours
constant drainage of resource
when liars reign without remorse
demonstrate through acts of war
axing allies no friends of yours
switching sides ending support
backtracking and invasions fall
forward thinking backward thoughts
two faced fronts fights are fought
defend positions within the fort
saving supply routes to the port
lowered standards poor results
lose respect face the onslaught
enclosing can’t escape assaults
laced with disgrace of dense insults
unsatisfactory falling short
the cost of power steeply soars
run out of bullets fight with swords
sticks and stones not canon balls
back to basics of infant schools
learning how the mighty fall
turns out you might be a fool
from the authority you adore
to unemployed and lost it all
from big and powerful to small
once important not anymore
once arrogant above the law
apparently now unloveable
a tyrant silenced by rivals
the outlaw downfall locked indoors
freedom within the prison walls
abusing boundaries horribly
so far beyond authority
explicitly and vicously
fully of inefficiency
faults and inability
soulless animosity
dethroned without the sovereignty
lost lonely in unpopularity.
Marvel of fond Mother-Nature,
Carefully carved nomenclature!
Mountains fold hands toward blue skies,
Where stars flutter, like, butterflies!
Water-waves warmly wash the feet,
Fleets on sleets meet around and greet!
High, steep, sharply molded boulders,
Stand in accord holding shoulders...!
Solitary human standing,
On a broken cliff crash-landing!
A bird flying around its edge,
To build her nest, finding no hedge!
An owl dwelling in a small hole,
Lost as though with a restless soul!
Bats, waiting for the silent night,
Alike, are, bleak views of cliff- sight...!
Suffering writs of erosion,
Churned by chisels of corrosion!
Carved, compiled, combined, conditioned,
Into wild bird-beaks protruded!
Steeply, slippery, surfaces,
Sloppy, soapy, still, circuses!
Cliff has its captivating charm,
That until disturbed does no harm...!
11 January 2022
C Form - Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Bleeding hazel eyes of infinite azure,
Diamond deluge in sapphire shadow,
Atrocities handled a fractious austere,
Smothered ashes of guilt and sallow.
Diamond deluge in sapphire shadow,
Heartbeats synced to cosmic sound,
Smothered ashes of guilt and sallow,
Six feet beneath the ruby rose, crowd.
Heartbeats synced to cosmic sound,
Rose petals of heaven blowing bliss,
Six feet beneath the ruby rose, crowd,
Hapless bodies plunging into the abyss.
Rose petals of heaven blowing bliss,
Inside a cobalt blue flowering bloom,
Hapless bodies plunging into the abyss,
Spasms steeply mingled with the fume.
Inside a cobalt blue flowering bloom,
Atrocities handled a fractious austere,
Spasms steeply mingled with the fume,
Bleeding hazel eyes of infinite azure.
Written: May 10, 2022