I see streamlets gush
On hilly terrains entwined,
Rare do rivers rush,
Silent and sure, sound they wind,
Bestirs but a shallow mind.
______________________
Tanka | 18.08.2025 | streamlet, river
On sleep-starved heavy eyes, tired, torn,
Straight like bullet begins her morn.
Kids woken up with a warm kiss,
She hurries that naught is amiss,
Last bestirs hubby’s languid bone,
Straight like bullet begins her morn.
Bare in time she breasts her office,
When home, there awaits some crisis.
Forever hurry, worry-prone,
Straight like bullet begins her morn.
__________________________________
Couplets |03.01.2024|dawn
Poet’s note: A woman’s working day never gets done and there comes the next day’s dawn. This poem was inspired by one by Yaminee Vyas in Gujarati.
The awake awakened with wide eyes wide-opened.
Calls of the screaming sea, calling calls ceaselessly.
Pound-pounding ears attend, weakening abandon,
wend sea claps yonder, and then only beyond then,
toasting impacts extend hosting eyes to pretend.
Gestures the forgiving, bestirs the towering,
ceaseless battering and charging colliding send,
the onslaught incursion shape equal dispersion.
Sea cliffs under pressure free stiffed asunder sever,
cast in watery graves caused by tottery waves.
Assembling forethoughts resembling onslaughts,
the battered is scattered about,
and the shattered, splattering doubts.
New roles, the lesser deep as guardians o'er a wet scrapheap,
shorn from tempestuous holds ...
fragmented carnage neath ruling waves rolled.
I observe palls of leaves, drifting on the wind
Compelling me to write, but my page keeps going limp
Fraying along straight edges, curling into crimp,
Nuanced in nature, daintiest touch rebuffs my whims
Thoughts become hesitant, so readily demurred
I scribble tenuous nothings, reflecting absent words
Cant tell which is moving, the leaves or my world
Seemingly fluxed together, synchronicity bestirs
Impossible to measure, let alone describe this scene
Small eddies all around me, vortex on grasses green,
As I look upon the tumult, my imagination reconvenes
Ink begins flowing again, and words start to scream
Disenfranchisement over, now feeling overjoyed
Balance is restored, the moment remains unspoiled
I look down at my sheet of paper, if only to recoil
Not in horror! Amazement, this little poem self compiled.
YOUR PERSONAL FAVORITE, NO. 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
18/10/21
If the sun sets on me now, let it!
I have no more use
for the light of day,
Just hold back the dawn awhile,
I have to shed some light
upon the night’s shady ways.
Tell it to the vagrant wind
To hold its breath
and pass not this way again
lest it bestirs
the dying embers of my aspiration.
Let the spring know
to hold back its reins,
There are no more
flowers to bloom here now.
Tell the wayward road
to follow me no more,
I have to hang up
my outworn footwear now;
And let my dreams know
I have no more
wistful nights to spare.
~12/05/19
~Contest: Your Best New Poem
~Sponsor: Emile Pinet.
~ Extinct ~
Under sky's radar
just above treetops
clouds layered white
along lazy trails inch
A breeze bestirs herself
thinks better of it --
scattered leaves left scattered
on still-green lawns
The sun, this late October day
climbs rungs of warmth, as if
to wave Autumn's chill farewell
commandeering Summer to stay
And we, we who bask in its delight
We, we who feed Mother Earth's plight
We, we who do not sense darkness in light
We, we with our dinosaur grins, are we not
She walks alone, the twilight hours
when earth and sky are one,
between the headstones and the flowers,
hid from the dreaded sun.
Naught bestirs, no sound disturbs
nor yet a shadow falls,
before this maid, with soundless words,
her one true lover calls.
But he has fallen long ago
in bygone fields of war,
a hundred years she’s trod this path,
mayhap, a hundred more.
Twilight falls early
as my portable threat bestirs itself
The rat is hungry
and happiness hollow
time a burden
The day’s end is a failure
when sleep is not a refuge
(or trouble at t’ mill)
and back at Go
I hit the ground shambling
and pray
Jan 04
Upon the breeze of fate came love my way
To fragrance every flower with scents of you.
Forever, now, your sweetness brightens day.
As morning light seeks sparkles on the dew
A quiet wind bestirs the bees and birds.
Oh, shiver in my soul, your eyes so blue.
This glory in my heart defies all words.
Wild passions raging like a hurricane.
And who, but God could bind two lovelorn nerds?
Our wits upon the earth saw true love feigned.
Hope fell, like broken branches in life's storm.
For twain, had weathered gales of life with pain.
Upon that winds of fate two lives transform.
Embraced by common dreams our love ignites.
Together wafting breezes, love freeform.
Copyright January 22, 2014
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Breeze
Sponsor: POET. UNDERTAKER
There whirls a world about a star
Gathering motes of dust from Far-A-Far
Upon the shining silvered seas' bright skin
That cloaks the place three-fourths within.
Upon the multicolored shards of stone
Reflecting from her fragile face
Some billions of small beings wander,
Ask themselves if they alone
Exist within the boundless dark
The very question seeks to sunder
Restraints of heartless reason stark
That advocate their ending without trace.
She shines against obsidian deep,
Bestirs Infinity within its sleep;
Tried at times the patience of formless Elohim
Stirred wings that whisper in the golden wind.
So She calls attention, having no intent
To do so, down upon her gleaming self
An invocation insincerely sent to a God or Gods unknown
Who may arrive someday to collect the rent
To tally up the Pros and Cons
Gather up such seeds as sown
Through troubled course of her existence, then begone
To distant parts, to pull new worlds down off the shelf.
So she spins in silence 'round her star
As billions wonder where those angels are;
The incense rising everywhere
Their hope a jewel in the Celestial Share.
Many lovers' kiss faded from my lips
Like summers early morning mist that dries
When timely sunrise first arrives outside
My windowpane. Can I rewrite the script
Of providence that's handed me? Eclipse
Another? Hardly. The Jekyll and Hyde
Reside in me: the good and bad divide
At first but then the worst bestirs and shifts.
A lover kisses Jekyll's lips of wine
But soon the lovers tasting vinegar
When Hyde emerges every single time
To spoil the sweet -taste of love. Au revoir!
The final parting words that draws the line
When love dies never knowing who you are.
Many lovers’ kiss faded from my lips
Like summers early morning mist that dries
When timely sunrise first arrives outside
My windowpane. Can I rewrite the script
Of providence that’s handed me? Eclipse
Another, hardly. The Jekyll and Hyde
Reside in me: the good and bad divide
At first but then the worst bestirs and shifts.
A lover kisses Jekyll’s lips of wine
But soon the lovers tasting vinegar
When Hyde emerges every single time
To spoil the sweet-taste of love. Au revoir!
The final parting words that draws the line
When love dies never knowing who you are.
Shadows of the night...
The forest sleeps.
An April breeze bestirs me:
It is you.
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