Best Triad Poems
Monitoring self,
nature made her decisions:
disaster rained down…
The water rose—
Life sank beneath the level;
hope floated above…
Like Noah, we wait…
flooding water standing still—
Vultures roost on wires.
Nature's Goddess
Through the meadows frolicking,
she wears dew drops in the spring
on her fair neck glistening.
Feb. 21, 2017 for nette onclaud's Triad in Seven Beats Poetry contest
Syllable count checked by Howmanysyllables.com
Crystal chandeliers adorn
spider’s webs at break of dawn -
see them scintillate each morn!
Triad in 7 beats Contest
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud
Checked with how many syllables
02~21~17
Small, Unctuous frog,
Squatting on his lily pad,
Only yawns to eat.
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Gaudy cherry trees,
Fearful of a rising wind,
Grip their blossoms tight.
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The stream's headwaters
Have not yet seen the valley;
Nor we yet Heaven.
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Morning Jewels
Morning jewels, webbed display
Glistened dewdrops gently sway
Sunrise gems this perfect day
2/21/17
Written for: Triad in 7 Beats Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
The lone rain puddle
Catches the shimmering moon
As it mimics the sun
And mirrors the dreams
Of our long ago youth
With days eroded
Like the shores upon
Which we strolled, listening
To the crashing waves
As the tide rushes
forward, brown -black seaweed strands
wrap the graceless leg.
Silver scaly fish
catch the glister of the sun
as silken drops of sea
slide off the pallid
hand lifting to wave to those
on the retreating shore.
Should sin imagined need that we atone
For angles lying equilaterally prone?
Conjunctive on an even parity
Of head and toed triangularity.
Passion shaped by she and he and she,
Yet friendship, understanding holds the key;
Pyramidal the power of the prism,
A dark side of the moon eroticism.
And though the devil days need exorcism,
Night in liquid silk somnambulism
Moulds the flesh and satiates the brain,
Three sides to every story they remain.
Arise convention's bones and drab disdain
At value judged contaminants again;
The Triad burning love when night must fall,
Embraces all for one and one for all.
Spider silk, spun snare of steel
Morning's moisture, spheres reveal
Deathly wonder, deadly wheel
Written 21st February 2017
Entry to "triad in seven beats" contest
Triad of Illusions
I. Illusion of Freedom
In air we fall free, bound
by earth that holds us captive.
We live by cycles -
day, night
cold, hot
rain, sun
love, hate
the seasons.
Gravity humbles us and
freedom is an illusion
II. Illusion of Wisdom
We lie in all honesty for
kernels of truth hurt
our ego.
We deny a God whose
air we breathe
whose image we wear and
spirit we bear
and judge ourselves thinkers.
The universe confounds us;
wisdom is an illusion
III. Illusion of Equality
Race is a front runner. More
subtle poisons wreak havoc.
Colorism and ethnicism
kill more dreams than
color; fight is misguided.
For independence we reap guilt
and blood-stained hands are
the prize of liberty.
For every right won, we do more wrong.
When will understanding come?
Equality is an illusion -
the end that may someday end us.
Fragrant rose petals
Streaked in trickling rivulets
Of shy, tearful zest;
But more poignant your red lips
Moistened by the cooling air.
-------------------------------------
Curtains partly drawn
I waited till the frost came;
Still you had not come.
The guiding candle I lit
Left in my lonely window.
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Hunters silver Moon,
Touching down on the hills brow,
Deserts the Heavens.
His callous indifference
Could almost equal your own.
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There is a lot of tension in the forecast;
A steamy and a hot affair,
arising between the air and moisture.
The amount of love they make,
is stimulating the temperature's lust & desire.
It keeps going higher,
which looks like a threesome now.
their act of foreplay in summer,
before they divorce in winter
This crazy romance continues,
the wildness in their amour
reaches even us,
They have sex on our body
making us sweaty and dirty
and we complain all day long.
Such a fierce passion,
in the hot and humid air.
Fragile fleeting dew drop spheres
Pearl the web as day appears:
Silken string of fairy tears.
2/21/2017
For contest Triad in 7 beats
Sponsored by nette onclaud
I.
The eldest of unknowns, on hill or heath,
The hoary standing stones--
Secret, silent tombs or thrones--
Huddle where the tempest moans.
II.
In birch-bright woods we find fairy circles,
Rings of toadstools designed,
It seems, by some feral mind,
Unfathomed by humankind...
III.
Through velvet blue, star-strewn skies and throbbing
At the full rides the Moon,
With whom the night-winds commune,
Intoning their chthonic rune.
Mists Of His Ghost
When mists of evening shimmer
tears like raindrops seem to blur;
His ghost trails---I grow dimmer.
Triad In 7 Beats Contest / Feb 22, 2017
Sponsor: nette onclaud