Best Woven Poems
Silent journey
I ride with you O Mother Earth
On the wings of time and space
I feel you cradle me in your arms
Lifting me high above you
To feel the kiss of your wind
..... and the warmth of your sun
A flicker of light and I am
Surfing the tips of your waves
Salty mist fills my nose
My eyelashes sticky with moisture
My heart wide open
Oh joy !
To glide up and down
On your surging tide
To undulate with the motion
Of your sea
To feel the movement of the
Magical water beings below me
Sunlight follows me
Illuminating the foam before me
Twinkling glitter radiating
Centuries of adventure and passion
Lust and loss spread out before me
Ancient battles
Sunken ships
Lost treasures and dreams lay
Below me in the darkened depths
Remembering your light within my heart
A child of eight
Knowing you Mother Earth
Digging in your soil
Smelling the damp dirt
Grasping handfuls
Unearthing small treasures of
Colored glass and painted pottery
Glancing upwards towards the sky
Filled with puffy white cloud dreams
Knowing your spirit and soul
Feeling you entwined with me
In the heavens and stars
Finding you in unexpected ways
Climbing the highest trees
Grasping at thick branches
Hoisting myself up
Beams of light piercing through
Shadows beckoning me higher
My t-shirt soaked with
excited sweat and purpose
Flying my dime-store kite
Out of my bedroom window
Wind taking it up so far
Up.... up...up
Appearing as a migratory bird
Making its way home
Dissolving into a small speck
Until I could see it no more
Painful grooves biting into my fingers
Cutting her loose
She’s free to fly home now
Transcending time
A silent whisper
Imperceptible movement
Pushing upward
Through fertile earth
I slowly unfurl my cloak of greenery
Stretching out my arms
Raising my head upward
I see the beauty of my form
A new seedling with furry lime tendrils
A baby plant on the carpet of the forest
Glancing upward I see my self surrounded
Sacred towering redwood giants gaze down upon me
As sunlight music tickles my soul
Susan Lawrence
Copyright 2021
A feeling of nearness to suffering
In our hearts
While we reduce the dimensions
Of the essence of light
With our eyes
In a local scuffle
Them
They have woven a net around us.
Bearing the pains of life
While watching the people with sullen faces
And tired thoughts
All along the years
We have heard the whistle of whips...
With well-concealed thoughts
Those
Never thought of us
And... without any mercy
Have woven a net around us.
by Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Traduit par Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by F.J. Bergmann, 2002
She finds the pink planet, musing Alice Liddell's Imagination is the only weapon in war with reality. Sky's canvas, brushed cotton candy clouds where marshmallow mountains peak and the seventh sun rides low 'til the man in the moon awakens. White light and red, filters a pink-tint, nebulous fringed rose gold. Pearlescent beams lap at her legs, silhouettes blossom as silky waves of jasmine kiss, spiral, and envelop her
open-mindness to
embrace the unexpected
Alice would be proud
realization pink planet
a bountiful life journey
Chilled nights anxiously swept away
holding hope as daunting eyes dance alone
brushed strokes of silence escape
hearts flutter in anticipation words
aloft floating on solemn wings
indulging in free flight fantasy
amongst where angels do sing
pressed parchment lain longs to be
read under mysterious glow
radiant notes piously resound
peering stoically in ardent spirit
tense the quiet hour plays on
minds drift off to bountiful fields
yielding precious daisies sway
happily in the gentle breeze
amber strokes of lovely lift
doleful doubt and helplessness
aside unearthing jubilation
yearning for this never ending dream
Beneath the fury of sun
Wades a wobbly nun
Stomping on thorns
Her soul burnt and torn
Scars on her skin
Carried wounds engraved
Trust, her sin
So were snakes she once craved
She sucked and spitted
Bouts of venom from her blood
Tainted by flood
Of emotions she once knitted
Silence crept loud
In the woods still stern
Moon upturns
Summoning weeping clouds
Tears unfolden
The woven maze
Outside the haze,
Lies a fern pretty golden
Threads, now vines
Adored her bruises
Illusion's penchant to divine's
Were flood sailed cruises
Time passed by,
Venom decays
Has been watching the sky
The fern now sways
From the silent loom
the single thread is drawn,
A fragile line
that binds the present day;
It weaves through shades
of twilight and of dawn,
And maps the paths
where fragile heartbeats stray.
In sorrow’s night,
in joy’s ephemeral gleam,
The pattern forms
a tapestry of time,
A waking truth,
an everlasting dream,
Touched by the hands of fate,
of human crime.
We watch it flow,
this river of our years,
A current deep with laughter
and with loss,
Through sunlit fields
and valleys of our fears,
We bear the weight,
accepting of the cost.
Until the shuttle halts,
the pattern done,
The story told beneath
a common sun.
In dawn's pale light when dew drops glisten
on heirloom roses near my garden wall,
memories gently weave themselves in my heart
like a web upon leaves a spider has begun.
For lost love, tears fall in hues of melancholy blue
as sunlight gilds my thoughts of missing you
Woven in Silk Threads of Love
(Apropos Us and the Children)
Time tested love, bruised
and battered,
lay like littered crystals
on the steel plate stage of life;
dismembered and crumbled
like a stale cookie
whose particles
have lost
their electromagnetic-like
attractiveness.
Ingredients of envious spice
inhibits any and all adhesiveness—
that tough threading love folds and kneads.
Yet, the sprinkling of forgiveness
knits and weaves the web
of diverse unity of understanding—
cocooning new beginnings:
Indeed, the most fragile butterfly wings
have endured—soared in monarch majesty—
defying time tested, treacherous winds
that the teeming silk of love forever spins.
Yes, to err is human; to forgive divine;
may eternal blessings forever twine
this tender love of yours and mine.
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset,
nature’s inflorescence meadows charm tread.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Gleam before the blooms fade and all forget.
Lavender, Daffodil, Take Me Instead!
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Balm Jasmine, Hyacinth, Granny’s Bonnet,
slightest glow of early morning love shed.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Marigold, Primrose, at bay ... they trumpet,
raising spring voices in radiance bed.
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Freesia, Begonia, nimbus duet,
rainbow chardonnay bouquet, insect fed.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Splashes of color for the daily fret,
nourishing aglow with warmth, grace breath spread.
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Timeless abiding -
Moments of silky threads hold-
Our hearts in one string
Inspired by Raul’s “Sentiments of the heart contest”!
The strewn spider webs,
Thread the needles of the pines:
Tapestry of trees.
Under a thatch of welded grasses
Beneath the sentry trees and singing birds
A seven decade muse sits on a naked earth
Drunk by the tunes of choir birds
Creativity invades her weary veins
As she strokes the grassy strips
Expertise emits from her ridged visage
Her keen eyes chant the incantation of creativity
While busy fingers turn imagination into reality
Crosswise strips respect their given orders
As they conjugate the lengthwise ones
The perfect union of strips delivers a woven basket
She smiled and picks another
Note: Zulu is a tribe in South Africa.
Their women are very skilled in weaving basket
Written by: Joseph Osita
For Nette's contest:” Anything handmade
I'd rather have the wings of a lark,
sing the word love woven on the heart;
feel a lover's sweetness
by kissing eager lips...
to ignite true passion from a spark!
The fabric of love woven,
And wrapped ...
Torn to shreds.
Thread by thread emotions;
Spill words tumble cascade,
- in my breathless orgasmic;
Grasping ...
The essence wrenched out of beauty ...
- it's substance rendered futile,
Unwillingly reconstructed,
Reworked unrecognisable.
Crevass screaming ...
Companion to loss ...
Hope, burning,
Burnt, burned.
Ashes scattered smudge grey;
Rainbow's departure.
T hin strands of DNA entwine to form the core of me.
A work in progress blooming on the loom of life.
P ain and plenty leave colored cords rough or soft.
E ndless moments of love and confusion shuttle
S eamlessly within the makers metaphoric hands
T umbling in a tumult of multi-colored tufts
R aised and sheltering is the garment of my life
Y outh an oft sought memory rushed to the calm of age.