Long, wide, vast, high, dreadfully deep protective walls
Battlements, ramparts, bulwarks, and tower folders
Living quarters, arrow slits, gatehouses, and halls
Monstrous walls built as though with steel-alloy boulders
Water-filled deep massive moats to obstruct the foes
Bastions and merlons within majestic meadows
Forts and castles are mysteries of histories.
They are focal themes of bewildering stories.
jampacked city streets
that jangled and banged
in the raucous jarring day
shifted
from business to boogaloo
squeezing into moonlight
party lights
gin and lime-kissed
gimlet sequined dress
strutted
in studded six-inch heels
riveting flair
provoking jive and jazzy nights
to tame this lion of New York
The bed swallowed the evening
sucked-up in slumbered
sobering snooze
exhaling the drunkard’s stench
while the warmth of whiskey
and you next to me
laid dreamy still
popped up and propped up
restless and ragged
realizing the changing view
through the dirt-stained window
a pool of placid sunrise
igniting
colorless clustered towers
bulwarks and girders
scraping the sky
out of the easterly clouds
a creeping golden palette
arose
touching every crevice
defining each silhouette
your body stirs deliberate and slow
rainbow hued eyes
slenderly slitted catching
the new-found light
opening, tenderly revealing
the landscape of your smile
disclosing
a cozy contentment
waking with hello
as I fall into your dream
and a new day
Stare all over, O World, you scarcely utter.
Bear stalwart angels to arise over the air tugger.
Odoriferous water may abscond the realm of prosily.
Such as the Goddess of Heaven perpetrates an odyssey,
Please, Lord, I pray you are aware of my plea heed.
The blunder I committed thwarts a significant need.
My wickedness is crucial to fade as it's such a bigwig.
I aspire that everyone will stay ready for the callow sprig.
My trudge to the palatial gateway has formally begun.
I'm embedded in the exacerbated curse greaten.
We embody no faith in eliciting heavenly mercy.
And will do it as soon as I can from a gallows tree.
My mighty task was a cipher accredited to splendor.
Plus, the angels yielded me their smoldering ember.
They allotted me munificently for their rare care, too.
Failed my mystical prowess to beckon them, they mellow.
Below kaleidoscopic bulwarks or in a raving creek,
In bosom nirvana, we withdrew the draughty bleak.
I earned a lasting bliss than one could dream.
And I willingly sieve to share my peaceful stream.
Written: December 15, 2021
A STRAND (DEC 26) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Fastidious gildings must dot your mien:
Sizzling lips that ooze unbridled charm,
And a neck sleekest with angelic luster
To daze the eye and sun a smitten arm.
Still deeper graces beyond corporeal eye
Shall your gold’s stoutest bulwarks prove:
A mind pliable into another’s loftier ideal,
A heart malleable to wit’s forging groove.
A full stock of sly eccentricities to baulk
Pert overstepping darts round the clock;
And a placating vocular chime that tells
Time’s tick better than poor-piping bells.
A hope that dares azure's illest signs;
Turning gaffes into leaps onto higher
Insights purer than filtered science,
Dwarfing Fate and her fiendish fire.
And shall all these bejeweled traits
Sure lie within one maiden’s tastes,
And finally match the magic gleams
Of that fairy gal I see in my dreams?
Deer do frolic: How they run and laugh and play
Birds chirp sweetly, soaring on a gentle breeze
Rabbits scoot and scamper, in their puckish way
The sunlight shoots through branches of tall trees
As clouds drift off to Heaven's vast expanse
The coolness of the forest's sure to please...
Noonday heat puts woodland creatures in a trance
Lay down their weary heads to take a nap
Soon to slumber, hearts a-twitter to romance
Unaware of danger, of deception's traps
Sounds and scents of peril start to filter in
Startling to attention, they duly snap
Hunter-man has forest's bulwarks broken in
Rifles poised to target precious creature's skins
We talk with disdain of rats that leave
a sinking ship. In truth do vermin,
ingloriously called, feel they have
to leave their homes, secret places wherein
they secured their children, in cowardice?
Rather, deep within the ship they are close
to things that ensure strength, good service
to the ship and know that they've failed. Are those
that left before Hitler, with power reached,
rats or prophets, mine canaries, whose acute
senses knew democratic bulwarks were breeched,
when an informed public is held in low repute,
a person's value is ignored or for sale,
police can open any door, don't set sail!
My Home Is No Fortress
Speechless thoughts flow out as words when the drawbridge is upended
From turrets they wind down and spiral into a stream of consciousness
Gently wind to and fro processions of images narratives a dreamy river
Drought happens as I resort to the keep when beleaguered by onslaught
of foes breaking barbicans collapsing foreign walls in the most barbarian way
Crowded rampage seizes ramparts and bulwarks of my own defences
Baileys and mounts scream battle cries of injustice injured in ignorance
Thus I decide there’s no longer a need for arrow loops since my truths
reject the heart ache of anger and would much rather be conquered by love
I conclude therefore to raise spiky stakes portcullises and misconceptions
and suppose that it is not me who built their house on evaporation and sand
When my thoughts slide up and down buttresses and find their words
vulnerable projections dissolve and my home is once more a wide open space
16th November
Amidst my sleep, the cockcrow
Like a clamor from the crow
The murky eclipse _ still lying in
rows
Precious sleep, how I need your
grip
For the bulwarks won’t breath
nor the dusky move a lip
As I vie with the whizzes _
curtains flip
Submerge my soul _ make it lie
in state
Like the Dead Sea, my eyes are
at stake
As the mind think over the
earlier mistake
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