Best Thinly Poems
the waning moonlight thinly enveloped
the dusky canvas obscurely sprawling
across the way from the window I looked,
I knew a park was there with slides and swing
but for the moment dark revealed nothing,
for the moment I didn’t care, either
because in darkness I felt even darker;
I was lying in bed embraced by regret
of decisions of love and time wasted,
spooning the layered sheets of doubt and fret
all thawed out from my heart into my head;
The memories of hurtful comments said
by and to me were chastising voices
of ghostly choices purposed to depress;
As dusk became the night I became lost
in whimsically strewn wishes and pleas
to gods and stars and genies alike, crossed
as eyes crying for mother drowned in seas,
I spoke to nobody but begged for keys
to unlock another time, another place
to start all over again with new space,
To unseen gods I had long since quit on
I prayed, bargained even, another chance
and I’d do everything right this season
- A jobless man needing a pay advance,
But for thirty three years nary a glance
had alpha or omega set on me
and this night I expected no divine decree;
several hours elapsed as I collapsed
in smoldering thoughts of suicide fanned,
- I had outlasted night’s concealing grasp,
and as the morning sun began its planned
ascent, I gave into Hades’ command
through my tenth floor window whispered to me
of hellish suggestions to jump and flee;
on ledge I stood and looked across the way
for one last glimpse of earth and pastel sky,
- a small souvenir of my final day,
My eyes settled on last night’s park from high
above, and that’s when I saw God’s reply,
- an unspoken answer for eyes turned blind,
His deafening promise to all mankind;
by his heavenly brushes came colors
where none had been, transforming lonely space
into one of vibrance and life renewed,
- and it was a different space,
I watched as birds celebrated morning
with songs of praise and thankfulness,
- and I felt a quick waning emptiness,
I heard the children below lining up
for the school bus all on time and ready
to live and learn in this new day granted,
- and I felt like I knew nothing at all;
but then I knew everything all at once,
and I stepped off the ledge ready to live,
ready to embrace
ready to seize life found…
in another time.
Long gone are the golden
Dusty days!
Where once, like Blazons
On Armorial Shields,
The gathered bronze sheaths
stood -
Cut through at the stalk...
Raised from time honoured
swathes.
Burnished like brushed copper
By high summers slanted rays:
That were sliced so thinly
From the thickening air,
As they brightly
Caught the hot glare,
From the grass mowers blades.
For the singing scythes,
Once wielded so ably
By strong, capable arms,
Are standing abandoned and
Forsaken:
Blunted, left rusting,
Languishing alone
In damp, dilapidated barns.
Now their songs are forgotten -
Lost within a woeful winds
lament!
Blown far out
From the green meadows;
Separated from their verses
Once sung so heartily
With purposeful,
Lusty, well practiced intent.
So think you all well,
Next time you pause
Your drawn eye,
Upon Englands rich harvests
Of ripened barley,
Yellow wheat, and stiff rye...
To dwell on the lost seasons
With melancholy tears...
And think of the old reaper
Who cuts back at the years!
O glorious Autumn of melancholic
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
Bursting into the swelling copses
And invading between the
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing
Revelry,
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!
Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly
Caught.
Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the
Unwritten verse
That so evade this singular man.
So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel
A whirling kaleidoscope
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette
Of Artemis
Over which the vibrant pastes
Are thinly spread.
A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!
Twas darkness upon the quietly residing heath...
And deathly was the sullen red sandstone tower...
Standing gloomily inside the masons dry-stone walls
Amidst toppling granite slabs and the faded, wilting flower.
Solemn was the chime of the hollow, mournful bell
When tolling out on midnights grimly sombre hour;
And thinly the swirling, unearthly mist
Did so wend abouts her silent, melancholic bower.
Where from a fronded yew of venerable years,
Besides ancient trunks of ivy-entwined gnarly oak,
A chilling screech from a sudden ghostly apparition...
Summoning upon waking resident souls - did thus invoke!
For pale his form in soft white downy flight...
But none paler than that of me...
As across from the stream, held by an unblinking stare -
My shaky fears are transfixed so unnervingly!
Oh wise old feathered sage of long owl-lived age,
Unctuous incumbent of learned perch within black night,
Allow this the moment to calm my pounding heart...
And catch upon my fleeing thoughts - after such a wicked fright!!
I'll hold this place for her loving faintly-
fragile, and tepid outer layer veils so thinly
a gorgeous core shining bright and quietly
Her eyes say more
than lips betraying her thoughts
as they swirl to intriguing depth.
I dive, plunge deeply-secretly
wading in thought's waters
loving the expanded borders
hidden beyond your rippled surface.
As birds singing, primp their rehearsed tune,
your diamond shines reluctant
from realities igneous tomb
I wan't to know the words she's trapped in blue
fluttering chests locked tightly when nervous
posture tells of something more.
Hushed often before, and muted now conditioned
to repress your heart...it's hard to breathe
as you selfconsciously hold your breath
Move those lips to mine
and whisper each trapped caption
your mind froze but never lost,
open the soul to feeling once more
like blood reddening air exposure
freeing the absence of feeling
...replaced with this tuned in euphoria
blaring melodies warm and familiar to our ears
*Inspired by Nathan's "Diamond in the Rough" contest
[Written during a twelve hour power cut caused by
Storms this past winter]
The storm that arrived in the depth of the night
Got even worse with the new morning’s light
Although I presumed that they’d already know
I contacted the electricity co
I asked if they knew the whole town had gone dark
Are you fixing it or just having a lark
I think that I upset the man on the phone
He told me to wear a coat inside my home
Just listen to me, I said to the geezer
I think you should know I’ve got a dead freezer
Without any leccy it’s gonna defrost
And all of its contents are gonna be lost
We’re trying to sort it all out said the man
But I would suggest that you eat what you can
So I checked the freezer to sort out my tea
My cooker is gas which is lucky for me
I made my selection from my warming freezer
Fish fingers and chips… and ice cream and pizza
Sausages, drumsticks, a tasty rib-eye
Two rocket lollies, a steak and ale pie
Some prawns that I think have defrosted before
(I’m still gonna eat them because I’m not sure)
Some old sausage rolls from Christmas last year
A fisherman’s pie I’d forgotten was here
Another small pizza with awful fake cheese
An out of date bag full of freezer burned peas
Four quarter pounders and thinly sliced beans
I think I might loosen the belt of my jeans
A light wind gently rocks our sailboat as
breezes begin to pick up on the sun drenched dock.
Cable wires rap and tap upon the mast as
daylight filters thinly through the clouds.
Egrets begin to peck around the gangway
foraging for scraps from bugs or grubs.
Great blue heron busily prepares her nest
high upon the eucalyptus tree.
I sit and daydream on the harbor deck
just enjoying the sea breeze, sights and sounds.
Kelp beds sway rhythmically with the currents
lapping the rocks at low tide, while
massive flocks of birds perch purposefully
near a lonely lighthouse high on the jetty.
Open seas spread toward the horizon where
pelicans busily dive bomb for fish.
Quarry rocks surrounding the harbor create
rocky protrusions, allowing ground squirrels to
spy sailors earnestly jibing on ocean water
tacking swiftly through the northwest winds.
Under the pylons and gangways
various starfish and mussels cling
with schools of fish swimming in tandem.
Xylophone sounds drift with music from a
Yacht club hosting a spring concert.
Zeal for the beauty of harbor life moves me.
Written on 2/11/2015
Hardened and solid white
thinly coated in icy tears,
so cold becomes the heart
devoid of love for many years.
No fires kindled in it's chambers
the beat still steady, but growing faint,
I accepted it and did not care
to even issue a complaint.
Time ticks on and changes hearts
even the ones that cannot feel,
I needed to know about love
what its like when it's for real.
So caress this heart of mine
so gingerly as you take,
because a heart so frozen
can still crack and break.
Let it melt away slowly
instead of rushing to defrost,
with gentle warmth near me
all fears will become lost.
My shyness, too, disappears
when trust is truly found,
resting in your palms
fingertips embraced around.
My heart is your trinket now
held closely to your own,
heating to a glowing red
what once was cold as stone.
The sky slid across a thinly iced sun
As clouds collided amid piled up heaps
Painting noses pink, where powdered breath spun
Webs of frost surrounding when minutes creep
On skittish feet, wary of time’s upkeep
When their passion’s reckless young Romeos
Discard stoic gray for flashy road shows
What impatient eyes fail to calculate...
A serene gleaned as the wisdom of snow
Lands quiet, where wounded hopes hibernate.
1/03/21
N/A in Just Thinkin contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
judged 1/05/21
Tim had all the necessary ingredients right next to his ancient burner
Shark teeth dangling from a sunken necklace at the cutting edge but
The amulet had turned into chains and shackles grinding the chef’s mind
A lost recipe for happiness but and he had no appetite for nourishment
Attrition boiled over when nutrition resembled a poisonous chalice
Too tired to take stock he dwelled on his primordial soup turning back
Primitive and involuntary he turned on the gas and smelled his demise
Rotten onions had depleted his tears thinly sliced and disguised
Fetid leeks leaked misery a trickle or two at full stagnant pace
Spoilt thyme oozed malodorous rosaries into beads of corrosion
Squashed tomatoes splashed foul decomposition into his eyes
Fennel funneled his vision into a bubbling hell of indigestion
Olive oil splashed straight into his heart with no glimmer of peace
Cantankerous garlic would not fend off his festering demons
While a bay leaf could not keep mortally morose sadness at bay
Great white oblivion but slowly Tim made friends with predation
Resolved he was allergic to fishy feelings and toxic distaste
He did not remember at first how to simmer emotions and passion
But onions started to sprinkle tears of joy and the shark pointed the way
Soon leeks from a Welsh legend delineated friend from mal-aligned foes
Thyme soothed his splattering cough and he found his true inner voice
Tomatoes seeded bright red orange chakras from base to the top while
Fennel fought of bloating depression and conquered agony’s cramps
Previously oblivious oils from virginal growth re-birthed him into life
He licked his wounds and wild garlic from an ocean of wonderment
And chose the berries from a long forgotten and noble laurel tree
Tim had barked up the wrong perspective and had muted the roar
Eventually he conjoined ingredients recipe and fortunate blessings
Left the sharks out of the chowder and slurped smooth soup into his shell
Spilling verses
as if they were a life line
Thinly hanging on
In air
Hoping they go
Somewhere
Reaching
Teaching
If not Preaching
A truth
To life
Giving meaning to
Always becoming a path
To our feet
Defying mere physics
Like walking on water.
Inking my way past
Adversity, while attempting to hold onto
Sanity in the midst of human travesty
Man made catastrophes by ego's
Pride.
Let it be so and so
Traveling words
More thunderous
Than dreams do allow
Spilling soul and fire
Flaming paths of
Prayer into the
Ether
Burning insence
Catching the nostrils
Of God Himself or Herself
Raising attention to
Angels and Demons
Hear I am
Here we are
Racing time, in attempts
To move mountains from here to there
On Ledges where
Death no longer Stands,
But stanza and sonnet command
Life is Eternal from mouth to
Hand
Affirming Our Generation
As a Genesis without Nemesis.
Reflecting in the
Mirror dimly is
Me,
a word
The world has known
Thee a time or two
Casting spells
In rhyme and form
Where logos fluidly
And fluently
Speaks to Universe
And Word, Faithfully
Becomes Will
9x's and
The poet's verses
Declare projected
Prophecies.
Thus the word is done
From soul
With the power
Of Divine Expectations
Mystical ,but clear to
Listening Ears
Piercing bone and marrow
Awakening what was once feeble
In many.
May we now speak
With the tongues of Gods
Into unknown tomorrows
Beautiful Order Words
Into a world filled
With The Hope of Love
A solid fruition
Human Ascension
Into never ending Light
As plain as sight beyond sight.
Kevin Guru©2017
The Power of Words
There it stands, desolate and alone
That roofless shell where the winds
Still whisper of the past
When scampering children's squeals
And wheeling seabirds' cries
Rose thinly through the air.
A thatched croft from which a healthy living was scraped
A shirt-sleeved man, braces showing,
Bald pate bunneted against the sun,
Bent over to tend his plot
An aproned woman cheerfully shooing away the hens
To collect the eggs for the evening meal
Beside a silvery sea stretching
To the horizon
Hiding the city lights and its imagined pleasures
Until those dreams drew the young away
Watched sadly by the elderly pair
Their exodus damning
The island to its desolation
Where still the birds' cries squeal
And the wind through the grass softly whispers
Surrounding the now silent croft
In the salt sharp air
What homely pleasures such a life once offered
Now the graveyard of fading memories
While the once busy city streets
Stand empty drained of life
As the virus continues to take its toll
Light minded people say I’m an uppity darkie
They color me bad,
with a black face, felt pen Sharpie
Vanilla voices downright don’t like
the audio sounds of this mouthy darkie
They say I’m way too uppity,
don’t know what my proper place be
Snow cone hats say they gon have to teach me,
there's a painful cost for thinking free
They wanna call the fascist calvary and give me
some old-fashioned triple Kord rope justice,
by them good ole boys neo-Nazi vigilantes
They say my strait Nazarene speech
borders on treason,
that it needs to be muzzled
But I’ve always given king Pharaoh Caesar
his required slave taxes —
His printed paperweight metallic tribute ...
so what’s the dispute?
My Herodian enemies want so bad
to reach into their torture trick bag,
and gag my mouth with a gasoline soaked rag
Then lie in wait for my muffled words
to set that tri-colored cloth on fire
Red cheek coconut meat,
dressed in blue uniforms pressed neat,
wanna beat, kick, pound
some patriotic sense into me
Giving thinly veiled warnings:
saying ship that ghetto talk back to Africa
Carting rice-colored evil thoughts
that are Balaam Iscariot store bought
Walking weeds in the Goshen grassroots,
wearing bloodstained slaughterhouse coats,
got indigo disdain for this uppity darkie
They wanna sell some
strange rotting fruit hanging from a tree
Hating me because I stood up
in the open free market place
And declared with Lion of Judah boldness,
they were selling the people rancid red meat lies
wrapped in waxy white packages
And giving State-Don’t-Care samples away
of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer bottles of hate
I ain’t nothing but a pseudo-smart, intellectual wannabe
It’s what my rabbit ears detractors say ...
yeah, that’s how they regard me
As just another trouble making uppity darkie
Yosemite’s Ephemeral Autumn Falls
Bald giants of swift water smoothed pale granite
Mark deep clefts for tumbling summer snowmelt
Rush released from frozen streams once frostbit
Silver swells - Ribbon Falls in pure ice melt -
Ephemeral streams slowed beneath Orion’s belt.
Thin tulle mist from autumn’s gossamer Bridal Veil
Flutters, bathing stony arms embrace of Royal Arch,
Quaking Aspen in Alder Creek covers Misty Trails
Witness near the Staircase wildflowers parched -
Golden leaves on steep slopes from the western larch.
Sheer barren faces only seep crystalline tears
As rivers flow to shallow autumnal rivulets
And Fire Falls wait for wintery floods to reappear
When somber quartz welcomes new Cascades reset
Catching torrent tides, flashing in a fiery sunset.
Wild Cat eyes the Sentinel in thirsting, dried up rills
That thinly coat plutonic rock in a glacial train
Only a trickle floats lazy scarlet sent over these hills
No tumbling drops tickle Waterwheel to turn with rain
While Snow Creek laments in narrow runnels refrain.
No gushing rivers plunge in roaring thunder veils
Nor scramble down Yosemite’s plainly marbled face
Scant silvered dews spill over on Nevada’s trails
For soon the breathing winter storms many falls erase
Till joyful spring redeems autumn in this magic place.
A tribute to the magnificence of Yosemite during autumn.
From neglect comes deviation, electrifying radiation, like a leaf in the shadow,
Drying stanza so bore-some, a bit much candidly said,
In the Sun thinly it is spread,
As it comes to - an End.
Unpropitious almost as a son left to die in a wooden casket,
Beating the chest, screaming the pain dumped in the basket
This fight that is looming, so void and gore,
Drained of meaning, young and old, shaken, - I’ve been told.
Hey, loner-donor go seek Freud and subscribe to the membership of bold.
What name, say you?
Look up, zap the depth and any chance,
Given but not forgiven, just sanitised slam dance,
Not tipping the balance,
So settled, decisive and predisposed,
Here comes the pain rolling down the mountains at Pieve di Cadore
You do not know whether to ignore or adore.
I am a natural riparian who likes to fasten poplars on the banks of my heart
My eyesight at breast height gets pulled by gravity – down!
Sipping on a glass of Vitis Viifera while avoiding an overdose
In the eyes of a true ochre sensible enough
To touch the ground or poke her.
Grab the ivory rod that is a relic of lies,
Crafted for the bride who held it dearly
In the arc it traveled back and forth,
North to south, back to north.
Everything crumbled, thorn to pieces,
Gunning down feeling after feeling,
The fight is looming, but I am not kneeling.