Best Warmer Poems
I always feel like a prisoner in the winter, banished from the outside by the jealous wind. As I get older, I continue to make peace with the cold, but I follow the spring. It is a different door, one covered with vines and stars, and to it I am drawn, as if to a beautiful girl.. no other days compare to her.
The flash of a disposable camera, clicked with young fingers, pink-polished nails. A yellow sun dress patterned with orange daisies. The basket on the bike is filled with stuff for lunch, sodas and sandwiches and things. Laughter resounds over the tops of trees as we careen, the children of May, across the sun-spotted road.
The compass points north
You know, this is Saturday
That means we go east
You yell to me that I run too fast, but all I hear is my heartbeat in my ears. I look back, you run faster. The evening begins to cast a spell in our town; the colors purple and orange appear like watercolor in the sky and we both stop to watch. Vapor trails crisscross above us, they're streaks across the fading day, pieces of the memories we've made.
Heat lightning at night
She's reading a magazine
Sarah's rare green eyes
To your door we go, but only you proceed. Your father doesn't trust me yet, but I tell you that I'll try harder. Maybe, one day, he'll give me a pat on the shoulder and a smile. It does hurt, I won't deny, to listen to the screen door wheeze shut and hear your bounding footsteps on the stairs. What comforts me is that I know tomorrow brings you around again, walking through a high archway, lovely enough to steal the sun's attention from the flowers.
These suburban dreams
The pink and yellow houses
Waiting with my thoughts
-For Debbie Guzzi's "Spring Haibun" contest
A fella with a lengthy willy
Said, “Reduction would be so silly…
“I make all my friends laugh
When it’s used as a scarf
Which prevents my neck getting chilly!”
Warm, warmer, hot
Ink, a wandering hue,
drips like melted wax
on a silver candlestick
turns bright orange to,
lava, unstoppable, burning
the page.
Kathryn Collins
February 26, 2014
The colder the winter the warmer the spring,
Where from nature’s palette life’s colors are drawn—
Though mute I must be in my heart still I sing,
For the darker the night the brighter the dawn.
The deeper the sorrow the greater the joy,
As shadows and sunlight play alternately—
No doubt or despair can this longing destroy
For my wild swan brothers soon to be free.
When misunderstanding and envy abound,
When devilish obstacles threaten me,
I must tap an inner resource profound—
For the wise will rejoice and the foolish flee.
The fiercer the tempest the sweeter the calm
That will promise a splendid rainbow to bring—
Though muffled in silence may all hear my psalm—
The colder the winter the warmer the spring.
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Song Lyric, from: One Two Three a Trilogy – Three – “The Wild Swans” – a rendering in musical theater by Harley White – based on the Fairy Tale by Hans Christian Andersen (1805—1875)
Excerpts from Trilogy – click on “Trilogy excerpts”…
[ harleywhite.awardspace.com ]
Chinstraps ,Adelies
Lacking krill is destroying,
Habitat issues
The Days Come, Warmer
Time has ammassed the many aspects of me,
Which I then collect, design and tatt
Into delicate lace edgings for my aging, and which I then
Lay out into rings around the bases of tree trunks
To become splendor again, anew across the landscape
— with the fragrance of lilies — orange, yellow, purple —
Bursting their blooms through the darkened earth
Beside the already growing roses, asters, peonies and hostas —
To celebrate meeting a new season of warmth in the forest;
Awaiting evensong, to grace this day’s ending work and memories
With the birds flocking, circling, singing out overhead
From here to the horison’s moonrise.
———————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 5/12/2023
Warming smells fill my senses
Mouthwatering sight
Fill my bowl to the brim please
Chicken stew delight
Crusty bread to dip
Some more please
Nice!
John Heck's contest "Eat Me Epulaeryu"
Honorable mention
The Bench Warmers!
I Always confused
About the ladders we called
I wonder, where things went wrong
I'm thinking thinking
I keep asking myself
Where are the sensitive young adults?
So saddened the future leaders Are now the future robbers
If I could asked
Where does it started?
All around it is from the grassroots
Our class Reps are the yam beetles
Our school and departmental presidents
Are now the maize weevils
Our so called honourables
Are just the bench warmers
They are not
Ambassadors of this nation
They just destroy layers
The so called senators
Are just the noise makers
They are termites that destroyed treasures.
® © 20/7/17. Abdul Wakeel "Young Writer" All right reserved.. I'm a writer of progress..
Form:
How dreary is the rainfall,
On this fine and summer’s day.
I find it harder to be happy,
When sunshine is washed away.
The thought of this surprising,
As it was not always this way.
Not so long I used to hide,
From the spotlight of sun’s ray.
As life moves forever forward,
Dragging us in its wake.
The feeling I have tomorrow,
May not be the same for today.
Yet, I can see the progress,
My heart and sprit made.
Rain cloud no longer hides,
A fear of a brighter day.
I will embrace this sullen weather
Naked rain upon my face.
I’ll taste each drop completely,
And await a warmer day.
A warmer place
High in the sky
The birds sing to the daylight
Free to love and sing
All talented and in tone
I can listen to the sweet notes
To soar through the open skies
As they organize
Wishing they will find sweet home
I close my eyes to hear them once more
As they set out for a warmer season
I tighten my jacket
Heading to the park that’s near
As I sit and play
My mother starts to sing
I pretend I am a bird
Flapping my wings and never resting
To keep going till I feel the weather change
Setting out for a new beginning
Meeting other birds just like me
On my way home still flapping away till I get home
Inside a warmer place where I can start a new life, starting today
Because I want to be high in the sky
With my wings still strong flying all night
By: Marissa Stoops
Flageolet bean cassoulet
Lincolnshire sausage
Rosemary,white wine and herbs,
Vegatable saute,
Garlic crostini-
Hearty and
Hale !
We wake near the flame
with our coals still warming
kisses spark fire...
Mother nature please carry in spring to once again meet
I'm sick of the crunching of ice and snow beneath my feet
Cringing with each step as I hope it's not the ground I do greet
I don't want to tread lightly I want to move freely to my own beat
I'm beyond sick of the blistering cold
This season is beautiful but on me is growing quite old
No more snowmen or snow angels but sandcastles I wish to mold
Please bring on the sunshine and put the snow on hold
Body's sick of being subjected to this feeling of pins and needles
I'll take my chances with bees ticks and random beetles
Trapped within a cocoon one position fetal
It's imperative butterflies and flowers blossom soon and tweedle
I long to bask in the glory of all of God's creation
Stir to life mama bears who've been sleeping in hibernation
Re-direct fair weather friends who have flocked away for migration
Mother nature shake up my world with warmer vibrations
I don't question
my presence in a Jacuzzi
with a girlfriend of a friend,
or why my ex-wife's sister
is now a soapy fingered hand-maiden.
All day I keep adjusting my mask
while secretly watching that hot tub dream
as it plays-on
on the tip of every nerve ending.
I want to sink back
into suds of impossibility.
I have this crazy itch
to snorkel down
to where I can touch
the secret life of ripples.
I am so tired
At kitchen table
Cat stare orange
I sit on chair
Handkerchief red, pencil box black
Chair cat grey
I shut my eyes and think of blue
I open and shut my eyes
I sway my body back and forth in a gray soft robe
I sway
I will leave my house in this mess
Water in the sink like stream, like puddle, silver, then fade
Box on the floor like brown
Shoes with cat
Open drawer
Ribbon
White cat floor
Jacket, scarf, jacket, shawl
Clock
Three hours backward
Couch like homeless lumps
Humming electric ==============
Screen saver swim swim swim
I could have peanuts, coffee
I could have lotion
Pillows, blankets, get naked
Joy, curl
Slide sheets say, “Home”
Run my legs in the covers
Run run run
Blankets …
Blankets …
Warmer, mind sway
Swoom. Black screen.
Last eyeshow inside lids
The feeling
This feeling
Takes a day alone — to fall, to rest, to believe in real meaning
Meaning is in the darkness, the alone.
I fall like this out of this world into the darkness — thank you.