Best Upwind Poems
Above the sea
another ocean
and just as blue
Sailing upwind
is all impossible
But don't give up yet
Little by little I come to you
We' d catch each wave
We'll ride the tide
Little by little,We'll make it right
I don't believe in fairies
but I believe in you
And I know,You know
Little by little you come to me
just the way I do
Together We can make it
One pillow shared by two
Our sailor moon will take us
above the sunset hue
Years robbed away our passion
but could not steal our dream
In our dream all is possible
Our lost wings We'll redeem
With our wings We do wonders
Our freedom makes us whole
We'll let dead stars shine their light
in the dark night of our soul.
Charmaine Chircop
PS : These lyrics I've written are now being played in a song by talented Archie Clifford and Alice Clark.If you have five minutes to spare please do support me and them by visiting this link
'http://soundcloud.com/archieclifford/archie-clifford-ft-alice-clark-little-by-little'.
Yes,Do visit soundcloud and support the song 'Little by little'please!!!
Categories:
upwind, life, love,
Form:
Lyric
Russell Sivey
Contest Name Good Luck Meal
Aussie Drover’s tucker
Build your fire upwind of the billy,
If you want it to more than shepherd boil,
Thick slabs of Corn meat n damper, (camp oven bread)
with a drop of tomato sauce,
Or corn meat fritters fried on the coals,
In kidney fat of course,
A billy full of Bushels tea,
Just sitting on a log,
And banana fried well, fritters,
Washed down with some tea or grog,
Sometimes .
On New year’s days a droving .
Categories:
upwind, adventure,
Form:
Ballad
Stock-still in gold dawn light while many sleep,
perched, scanning, on abandoned termite heap.
Expectant, skin tingles as in cold breeze
contrasting with the stillness of the trees.
The tracking beeper focuses our minds
as aerial picks target from behind.
Cheetah ten yards away now caught off guard
upwind of us, head cocked and staring hard.
Long looks exchanged,unspoken things are passed
and finally, spell broken, goes at last.
Reeling, those breathless minutes went so fast.
A memory of my time in Namibia, 2009, and the above
photo was taken by me. We nicknamed him 'Blackeye'. No fence between us. Awesome.
13th January 2016
For contest 'Spectacular Acrostic', by John Hamilton
Categories:
upwind, animal,
Form:
Acrostic
Above the sea
another ocean
and just as blue
Sailing upwind
is all impossible
But don't give up yet
Little by little I come to you
We'd catch each wave
We'll ride the tide
Little by little,We'll make it right
I don't believe in fairies
but I believe in you
And I know,You know
Little by little you come to me
just the way I do
Together We can make it
One pillow shared by two
Our sailor moon will take us
above the sunset hue
Years robbed away our passion
but could not steal our dream
In our dream all is possible
Our lost wings We'll redeem
With our wings We'll do wonders
Our freedom makes us whole
We'll let dead stars shine their light
in the dark night of our soul
Categories:
upwind, fantasy,
Form:
Lyric
By the barrage of flies, bald John can tell how
Safe his meal is for feasting. The spotted
fawn yet battered breathes.
Clean blood is poison, he knows,
So before he drinks, he waits for the devil
To pee in the stream.
Then he shovels tissue down to the marrow,
As the odor barbers him balder.
Bare-bodied ravens beguiled him
To become a fiend thus famished. He
Perches patiently over the repast,
Pin-talons dull from scraping bone,
Wings worn from hauling carrion upwind.
He bates them at the first sign,
And targets the fawn’s fattest artery.
But he himself is sick on the verge:
Of a wavering branch, of a mortal dusk,
Of that decay which wove twig to build his nest,
That which buoyed flight when he was weak.
With twilight nigh, he trembles in withdrawal;
Grey feathers fall as he
Walks in falter to the tawny fawn;
Toward Life, or Death,
Or their bastard unclaimed.
Each inch is priced a silver plume. He sheds,
Till over swoons his avian frame, lonesome
Lying nude and three-fourths-dead,
Broken beak ajar, tongue longing
For the opiate thrill of red
Flowed from the hollows of that mirroring fawn;
He drools for the non-anointed oil dripping thence.
It renews his plumage,
Though makes matte the luster of his eye.
Resurrects him that he may wean on death,
As prey to his vice—prey to his own heart,
While nature begs his piety, but sin sustains his being.
Categories:
upwind, addiction, analogy, bird, dark,
Form:
Free verse
Desert Head
The tales they told of ole sailor Fred,
Had skin-grafts a grafted on top of his head,
To keep out the baldness, a triangular patch,
Touch of a p smell coming, perhaps,
with the new hairy faerie thatch,
stay upwind & have a care,
They
Hand grafted his pubic hair,
The curly stuff sort-ov a growing there,
no cause for blinking despair,
like a new turf a growing instead,
on yester-years billiard ball head,
there goes Freddy the Lair * : }-
tuit sweet, complete with new hare,
and the curls begot curls, so they said,
{pretty boy}
Don Johnson
Categories:
upwind, adventure,
Form:
Ballad
BUT ESPECIALLY EAST LANSING
Cell phone with a woodywoodpecker ringtone;
Russian style of guitar-playing with strummed beats;
Regina-Saskatoon red-eye with “collapsible” seats;
Getting a ticket for 2 minutes in a Lansing no-parking zone.
Disco guys old enough to be your grandfather
With shaved heads and tattoos and a heavy gold chain,
Driving Fiat 500 s in Lansing and trying to pretend in vain
That they’re only old enough to be your father.
Cups of tea made anywhere inside continental USA.
Expensive marque wine which if eyes close
Tastes same as Lansing Wallmart El Grande Wino (5 gallon dose).
Cups of black coffee made anywhere outside continental USA.
Making the same mistake twice, usually with women;
Guys upwind of me spitting in the street in Lansing - ugh way to go!
Insomno-listening to the all-night DJ s on CKCK radio;
Seeing next-door’s cat digging in my garden.
Alarm clocks which lose time in the morning.
Apple pie made with cloves ”for flavor” (barf me out).
People not understanding foreign tongue and starting to shout.
Glasgow, Detroit, Akron, Gateshead, but especially East Lansing.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Nancy Jones’s Contest “Things that suck”
Categories:
upwind, slam, old, me, old,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
The wind leans in sideways to drink every word,
Just as sailors must tack sideways to go upwind.
It's only with angles we know the wind's wrangles.
Its riddles, scattered among willy-nilly answers,
Whispered as secrets, spilling to shake the leaves.
When gales blow hard; many tumble quaking in fear,
Others stand up to harness its power and steer,
Watching their vanes to predict omens ahead,
Hoping for kind winds to come their way soon,
In the wily wandering ways of the gusts and whims.
The wind is an oracle, chanting psalms on wing.
It carries the chorus of birds calling at dawn.
The rumble of thunder in an approaching storm.
The calls from a distance; bells whoops and cooee's
But it's no secret its gathers can ever stay still—
For all sounds are bent to the command of its will.
For sound needs winds in the air to transmit downhill.
Only falling silent; when wind's becalmed and still.
For with no wind, all is just silence, dressed to kill.
Categories:
upwind, wind,
Form:
Lyric
A bulldog was having a day so fine
The weather was scrumptious simply divine!
The pony came upwind, scared him to death.
He must have fallen into load of meth.
Bulldog’s eyes watered, he thought he might cry.
Cat and bunny wandered rapidly by.
Bunny was hopping, and giving him flash
Of a cute tail, her name was McNash.
Cat, mean as the day is lively and smart.
He smelled her butt, a tiny feline fart.
The hen clucked by, with her six baby chicks.
He fell down laughing, at her lively mix.
The pony was ageless, the hen was old.
All of this, he knew. His sniffer was gold.
Categories:
upwind, dog, fun, funny, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Late one night under a moonlight glow,
I questioned my life and alter-ego,
Am I the dunderhead that had it all wrong?
Was I just a chorus in someone else’s song?
Reminiscing to the voice of an owl,
Wondering what life really meant now,
Other than surviving my own death each night,
I am incapable of separating wrong from right.
Idling along the highway so grey,
I watched as the reaper took his life away,
Caught up in traffic without any flow,
The ambulance left with nowhere to go.
That day I’d worn a suit like a senator,
Living the dream to be a cash generator,
Climbing corporate walls to climb out of the gutter,
These elusive heights turning me into a nutter.
Foul stench of the land drifting upwind,
Falling from man and his infernal sin,
I continued to wipe the dried salt from my eye,
With memories fading of that time passing by.
With the crowd I abscond from the dream,
Into a reality that’s virtually unseen,
Submitting myself to now live with the hoards,
I wrapped my torn wrists from where blood poured.
(c)2016 PJ Bayliss
Categories:
upwind, anxiety, depression,
Form:
Quatrain
Shards rain down
around me
ringing upon the ground,
displacing the silence
that was assaulting me
mere moments ago.
Had to get out
and even as the blood
drips from my many wounds
I lurch into motion
running into the darkness,
feeling it envelope me.
The moon
is a black spot in the sky,
coating everything
with its unholy illumination,
and within it
I can envision
my succubus,
sweet pale skin,
smooth and flawless,
lushes curved fangs
jutting from under pouting lips
glistening in the starlight,
raven and golden hair
playing in the breeze
as she flexes her batlike wings.
I can see her red tinted eyes
glowing in the night
and hear
her claws clicking together.
Keeping myself upwind
I slink from tree to tree,
circling.
She stands over a fresh kill
wings enfolded like a cape,
blood pooling in the soil
at her feet.
The scene
entices me,
almost driving me
to move closer,
must resist the pull,
get a feel for the situation.
I sniff the air,
the briny scent of blood
approaches me,
beneath it,
the loam scent of earth
permeates,
lower still,
the smell of my temptress
drifts in,
sulfuric musk,
brimstone and sandlewood,
ash and raw meat,
sending shivers
down my back
like when the first drops
of a cold rain
hits your skin.
For now
I am content
just to gaze on this
ferocious beauty,
watching
as she
feasts on the carcass
of the beast
she so eloquently took down.
As the mist settles in
and removes her from view
the vision of her
is still burned into my eyes.
Categories:
upwind, angst, imagination, passion, peace,
Form:
Romanticism
I see a green, slimy smog coming from your mouth
It smells so bad, it should have come from down south
You smile like it's no big deal
If bad breath was a move in wrestling, you could go for the kill
I give up, so I will wave the white flag
Don't breathe my way, your breath makes me gag
I will stay upwind to avoid the wave of the breath attack
Do you eat fresh onion and garlic as a snack?
Febreeze won't help neutralize you
We can solve this with a mouth full of Gorrilla Glue
If that don't work you be outside the bio dome
Get the hint? Your parents don't even invite you home
There is no me and you as friends
Your breath is like time, it never ends
The female deer would not breed with you if you were a stag
Move on, move out, your breath makes me gag
Categories:
upwind, funny, me, me,
Form:
ABC
Late one night under a moonlight glow,
I questioned my life and alter-ego,
Am I the dunderhead that had it all wrong?
Was I just a chorus in someone else’s song?
Reminiscing to the voice of an owl,
Wondering what life really meant now,
Other than surviving my own death each night,
I am incapable of separating wrong from right.
Idling along the highway so grey,
I watched as the reaper took his life away,
Caught up in traffic without any flow,
The ambulance left with nowhere to go.
That day I’d worn a suit like a senator,
Living the dream to be a cash generator,
Climbing corporate walls to climb out of the gutter,
These elusive heights turning me into a nutter.
Foul stench of the land drifting upwind,
Falling from man and his infernal sin,
I continued to wipe the dried salt from my eye,
With memories fading of that time passing by.
With the crowd I abscond from the dream,
Into a reality that’s virtually unseen,
Submitting myself to now live with the hoards,
I wrapped my torn wrists from where blood poured.
(c)2016 PJ Bayliss
Categories:
upwind, career, life,
Form:
Quatrain
Where does this wind blow in from,
where has it been, what has it done?
Vanes it twisted, clothes it flapped.
Fog and smoke palls blown away.
Sails it tautened, eagles soaring supported.
Blow-ins are welcome with hair bedraggled
clothes disheveled, flapped to tatters
For the wind makes being untidy acceptable,
especially when facing upwind right in the face of it.
The wind will drop soon, and die away, begone
leaving the parade to stand easy.
Categories:
upwind, wind,
Form:
Free verse
What you desire
is on the other side of crocodile river
but you've no float and burned the bridge
but if you really want it, just dip right in.
what you desire is on the other side of the fire
on crocodile river.
What you need
is often on the same side
just within a heartbeat
where speckled bird shines
where the flowers grow free
within the silver reflection of honest intention
love blossoms all about the green Glenn
just upwind from crocodile river.
Peace, I think is rooted deeply in simplicity
being grateful, lending a hand to your fellow man
honest conversations with a couple of friends
following the path of a righteous man
as the moon slides just above the midnight shimmer
and salty red eyes glowing on crocodile river.
Categories:
upwind, confusion,
Form:
Free verse