Best Thready Poems
CHRISTMAS EVE
He lay abed
That most tranquil of nights
Aghast at moon and stars
Dad had painted for his delight
In one charmed corner
A spider was swinging
From his thready design
Outside strolling carolers singing
Then he rubbed his eyes
In wonder and awe
Blinked the pair twice
To clear what he saw
For a mist had developed
About his dark room
And from it bright light
From out of the gloom
Winged angels from glory
Appeared neath a star
And came flock-tending shepherds
From countries afar
3 kings richly dressed
Rode up on their camels
To a manger scene
With various animals
And the star
Shown down on a bed of hay
Where Mary and her new born
Babe did lay
The lad sat up in bed
Struck warm to the core
With a wondrous blessing
He’d not sensed before
He dropped to his knees
Thanking heaven above –
Toys Santa forgot -
Prayed world peace divine love
Dave Austin
Categories:
thready, anti bullying, christmas,
Form:
Free verse
I have come to accept the possibility
that I, myself, may be partially to blame (my compost pile of shame)
that I may have stroked the very wheel (unable to feel)
that, set in motion, is the cause of
so much pain (unsheltered in the rain)
Silently suffering through endless winters (embers, cinders)
without anticipation of Spring (hope an ethereal thing)
blind to Mother Earth's gifts (tenuous unfelt shifts)
the colors, the scents of her blossoms (habitually playing possum)
deaf to the melodies of the birds (knowledge lost, language
unheard)
as they sing
She calls to me but my barriers are thick (mentally stunted, physically sick)
densely scarred and wounded (as I am, to the quick)
As the sludge chokes the seabirds (screaming their lost words)
and the fishes (murdering Piscean wishes)
as Her forests are cleared by those
both greedy and vicious
I feel Mother Earth tremble (demons assemble)
beneath my feet
hear Her sigh as I place a hesitant finger (shaking, letting it linger)
on Her weakened pulse
thready and irregular
We are killing Her, Mother Earth,
mother of us all, matricide (no longer can we hide)
listen, listen to Her heartbeat...
I may have stroked the very wheel...
Categories:
thready, nature, people, slam, visionary,
Form:
Lyric
MORNING GLIMPSES
showering
sudden daddy
those impossibly thready legs
morning coffee
cat intrudes
sugar in its fur
out the kitchen window
snow lingers
on one flat rooftop
coffee and
wonderful morning quiet
shattered! by rock
Categories:
thready, morning,
Form:
Haiku
Here's a tangled thready mass of dental floss
Glued on some canvas board with gesso
Each layer of the spider's snare dyed a different color
One layer dried then layered o'er another
Oh the marl-morning sour-gut history
The saw-toothed plaque-frozen mystery!
There's corn beans and sirloin on the string
Microscopic V-8 a thermal-digested chicken wing
Good bad medium days
Hidden 'neath and in filet
Here's Jackson Pollock with his dripping
Splashing abstract expressionism
Pollock though a genius failed
In splashing paint pale after pale
To realize a more thrifty less messy way
To say through teeth what he had to say
Categories:
thready, funny
Form:
Free verse
Heart...
I feel you beating thready and weak..
I feel you murmuring me to stop..
I feel you throbbing softly aghast..
Heart...
Why did we trust and give in so fast?
We should have guessed things doesn't last..
We should have been careful for things casts..
Heart...
Will you get some more little rest..
So long, I do not like you again be on test..
I do not like you more on mess...
Heart...
Follow me, I'm above you..
I know which one is better for you..
I learned from past and present blues..
Indeed, I'm knowledgeable enough for the cues..
Heart..
I speak kindly to you..
Kindly mind me once..
This the mind pleading and speaking...
By: olive_eloi
sept. 16, 2013
4:48pm
Categories:
thready, absence, angst, body, boyfriend,
Form:
Imagism
One Christmas eve my ceiling hung
With thready webs a glow behind
Cast lace patterns on my bed
That Yule eight reindeer ran the covers
Then through every midnight room
I cried to mother father brother
All of whom had shed by dream
Their task of season’s rush and bother
Free but lost to my entreat
“Can’t you see them paw prance?
Oh mother how they rear and point
At Santa – that jolly Christmas ghost”
All filmy things once designated
Then not real evaporated
And I sat straight up in bed
Rubbed the cobwebs from my eyes
Memory of tinsel candy
Presents in my drowsy head
Awake to silence angel hair
Little men in forest dress
Imaginary pixies on the stair
And then remembering the tree
(all hazy else it seems had been a dream)
The tree that by our fireplace rose
In thought it glowed above the dreamy web
Those blue green red silver lights
Had formed quaint phantoms on my bed
I’m up on tiptoe and carefully
Am sneaking toward the living room
(Inky blackness don’t you see)
Don’t you see the little man
Dressed in Santa suit belt and boots
Spreading presents neath the tree
Now truth be known so sorry am I to say
‘Little boy blue’ is yet in bed
Those phantom figures swimming his head
And late that eve ceiling bright
With visions of the coming day
The wisest Angel of the night
Makes visit singing of the play
A song of filial brotherhood
With child invests the neighborhood
Categories:
thready, childhood, family, seasonschristmas, angel,
Form:
Free verse
Defibrillator, I have to set..
Cardiac monitor, I need to attached..
Intravenous lines, workingly patent..
Emergency drugs, positioned on standby...
His color turning to pale then bluish..
His breathing starts to become shallow..
His limbs become to loose and cold..
His pulse thready and weak..
On high alert!
On high alert!
Is it the end of his life?
Or is already the beginning of his death?
By: olive_eloi
2:01am
10/11/2013
-------------------***
"life too beautiful to stay stagnant, keep on moving onwards....."
Categories:
thready, body, death, feelings, irony,
Form:
Verse
Part of the masses, another blue-bottle blip
ocean-sweeping ~ sailing blue-massive
oscillo-roaming-wind
spinning a dizzy-spherical war ~
The appetite to be sated where a new current
ushers constant unpredictability on its menu:
gleaming silver thrashes on its thready hang
Each usual sting, brings on a singular cringe
so predictable are its shivers of alas-morass
entrenched within a genetic-evolutionary psyche…
Luffing, she swells on the blue-flowing-feel
another turn, she is riding with the armada
Dining, diving, leaving divining to the wind,
yet wielding its surprising, wispy, sublimity ~
(11/30/20 For 'it is what it is or is it' contest)
Categories:
thready, allusion,
Form:
Free verse
I heard the squelch of death again,
it happened in yoga when I was Zen;
coming quickly and I was not ready,
then, I was quite dizzy and unsteady.
I felt myself fading and everything was dark,
floating in an abyss once more like a lark;
and I was laying in a place like a park,
and my brain hurt with a migraine.
I heard talking every now and then,
and I wanted so much to complain;
to tell the floating people I was heady,
and that my heart beat felt quite thready.
But my words were a slurred question mark,
'till after ten hours I felt some kind of spark;
and realized that to Heaven I did not embark-
the doctor said from yoga, please refrain!
______________________________
September 16, 2019
Poetry/Rhyme/I Heard Death Calling
Copyright Protected, ID 19- 1181-408-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
NA in the contest, Welcome To My Random World, Judged 9/20/2019
Submitted to the contest, NA- A Rerun 3
sponsor, John Hamilton
Sixth Place
Categories:
thready, life,
Form:
Rhyme
The Wrist
Bears the watch marking time
And moments sublime
Shakes the hand to impress
And flaunt success
Deftly bends to play the notes of staccato
And trills of vibrato
Takes the pain
As drugs enter the vein
Radial pulse strong and steady
Then later thready
The rhythm of life eventually ceasing
Unleashing, cut like a knife
Categories:
thready, death, time,
Form:
Rhyme
My uncle took me fishing.
He’d smoke his favorite briar
Stuffing the cherry blend in with stubby
Welsh fingers more suitable for digging coal,
Than compacting mulched tobacco leaves.
A line taut between his index finger and his thumb,
He took a thready pulse of a line strung along the pole.
He told me stories of his growing up:
Painting my grandfather’s car ruined by feathers
Blown in from a cock who’d recently been plucked.
He would hand the pole to me to relight his pipe, he said.
And fumble among the hundred pocket vest
Pockets for his Zippo lighter
I liked surreptitiously to smell
And play endlessly with clicking of its top.
A trout would tug my line, bolt arching up
Above the water’s edge and topple back to tug again.
I’d play it back and forth until I played it up on shore.
And put it in a basket made of hardened wicker weave.
Some men fish for fishing's sake and others to make fishermen. (2/7/02)
Categories:
thready, family, feelings, fishing, fun,
Form:
Free verse
I walked through the haunted
house on the hill,
through the untended garden first,
a tangle of foxgloves and weeds,
claws of bracken the hands of the dead.
Trees, stripped bare branches scratching
bulging underbelly of the sky
as if to tear it open
and fling it's innards onto the earth.
Truly, there was no path.
Past stone lion sentinels,
through the faintly screaming door,
where inside I discovered nothing but a
shell, ornate paper and yellow-boned
plaster peeling and flaking from
walls and ceilings.
Ancient cobwebs clung to my hair,
their creators long since desiccated
and dust.
I swept them away like yesteryear's
dead leaves.
The musk of dark embalmed memories
dry-charged my nostrils 'till they flared.
In the gloom, water dripped steadily
onto tin - tip! tip! tip! tip! -- a faded,
thready heartbeat.
Memories tried to softly sink barbed
claws into my brain, to make me hear
and see things better left underground.
With no little effort I shut them out,
knowing full well that given chance of
purchase, of insidious anchorage,
they may never leave.
Nor would I, for given time
all houses acquire ghosts
and strive to add to their collection,
amplifying the thudding,
weeping and dread longing
that flutters and swans beneath
their crumbling rooftops.
I may belong here
but I cannot stay,
for all those who walk here must,
in truth,
walk alone.
Categories:
thready, allegory, confusion, death, mystery,
Form:
Blank verse
A courteous curtain
Looked thready with fine silk
Scenting of my core
Which led linger rose in my mind
And with no fleeing ticks
But almost ding-dong devotes
Potent day and night
Shrouds,when I come in
Shields,when I come out
Dripping that cotton every moment
For not to streets cowslips
To steal me from her role
Let I vocal vomits vociferously
"Am I boastful beaming as her turban?
Oh,I love you courteous curtain
For vile of my days"
Categories:
thready, appreciation, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
Night falls upon the ocean deep
When all that is weary and fast asleep
Silvery sage colored moon
Hanging over a blue black ocean in June
Mixing up a bowl of vast sea mystery
Your bountiful glory deliveries thee
Hung above your horizon line
your ebony view is peerless and undefined
A calming rush onto sand and shore
Your most admirable cycles to explore
Bottomless caverns and hidden decor
Thrashing movements reach a tidal roar
Salty wake of white foaming endurance
Thready seaweed washed up on the land
your texture and frangrance spread out in a strand
Night ocean you perplex my intrigue
I watch through this window despite my fatigue
Categories:
thready, mystery, nature, sea, ocean,
Form:
Lyric
Some might say,
it's just another day
but the days so quickly pass
age marking time far too fast;
spring was a season of mixed messages
days of rain and dampened dew
full of old memories,
walking the garden with you,
then came the buds, the blossoms, and the bloom
life rushed on,
no regrets to exhume,
the gentler days of flowering and you;
in looking back
the early days moved slowly and steady
with struggles through laughter, tears, and joy thready
but you were there ever at the ready;
lost to the days of April into May
and I am still here tears as I pray,
my eyes on the stars
wondering what happened
and where you are.
Categories:
thready, lost love, missing you,
Form:
Rhyme