Clefts Poems | Examples

A Strange Disease

A strange disease is rolling coast to coast
and leaves its victims on their knees in fog.
The weaker mind feels the affliction most;
next, those with an affinity for grog.

Some say a brain worm fled the campaign trail;
some say that it arose from rotting meat.
The latter likely seems an old wives’ tale;
what’s true: synaptic clefts are incomplete.

Although causation’s not precisely known,
research identified a common thread.
The circuits in the retina are blown;
instead of orange, all are seeing red.

For those who trust their government and seek
a vax, one should be ready late next week.

A Slit On a Rock

A burg in a vale, 
Amassed stones and rocks as bulwark,
Assembled stones and rocks as a stack,
Stones and rocks stopping the waters from losing the track. 

Waters thrusting behind the concrete rock,
Forcing the stones and rocks to slack. 

A slit on a rock transpired,showing a way to break,
Waters dripping through the rock with a crack,
Droplets leaked out of the chink with a knack,
Turning the slit to rift and the rock to wreck,
Moving winds aided the waters to go out of the rack. 

Slowly and steadily
Droplets leaped into Water streak,
And the Water streak into a creek with hack,
Waters flowed with fiery speed breaching the barriers with a hefty thwack ,
Stones and rocks were crushed with a great knock,
People shook out of fear when the waters spurted with whack,
And the burg in a vale was flooded and destroyed in vain without any speck,

Like the words in rage from the clefts of lips which are bicker and stark.

Red Mountain

red mountain
stands still
black ribbon 
cuts between 

you aren't always
still
not if by faith
I can cast you into the sea

still 
is never 
forever
but still we are

not so long
have I 
not been the traffic
cutting between 

still 
to know something

I would cast you into 
the sea
but these problems
I need 

red mountain
big rough ugly 
barren pile of rocks
you comfort me

vultures, ravens, and crows
soar up your slopes
roost on your ridges
nest in your
craggy clefts

don't worry
stone mamma

I command you to be 
still 
forever

poor scavengers and 
I need you

this ceaseless stream 
of fud
dividing us
I cast 
into the sea

with my little mustard seed

red mountain 
lie still with me

The Lost Wind

The wind blows fiercely to empower the fire in the well of life, 

Quickly it is drowned by the sweetness of the sound that can't be felt or found, 

The stillness burns quite like ice, and clefts the mind as nice as knife, 

Time heals the harm, and the Lost Wind blows bold anew.

Misolintermate Lovers Ballet'

Does Inspiration write us.
Then in script might
do we act
upon the stages of
existance
to award those
who best
entertain
as us are we first
in efford
are we last
encoupled
yet we fear
that what is
existing
may strain and crumble
together than only to
seprate.
The moon shall
chase the sun
only to meet
in it's distance
that this event
makes
the night's
entertining
the skies of night
only to be bothered
by the renewing
of day.

Fear not might
moring renew your strenght
then to love again
speak then as one
speak then as lovers
might morning bring
such togetherness
quatrain or abab
might we
speak our love together
nomencladchore to
one man clad chore
then might we marry
stand before a world as one
in the peaceful togetherness
of coupling

Smoke

A blind light crashes
through bar windows.

Since they began to talk
her breasts had moved
to a small apartment in his head.
The smoke from her cigarette
shaped words
into sensuous motes.

He imagines her lungs.
They are green-leaf not black.
Inside the bronchi and alveolar
sylph's teasingly beckon
out of a spongy foliage.

Votive clouds lather red lips.
Words flare dark clefts of desire.
Throats assume vapory feelers
inside a filtering breath.

He needs her addictively,
a blood craving
that seeks her as an inhalation.

There’s a strung-out intimacy
between them.
Eye’s smother, and blur
as they absorb each other.

Soon they will meet
upon an in-between world
where each visual breath
forms fumy erotic dreams.

A midday daze smolders
as they sightlessly
light another.

When Snowy Petals Fell Ct

I smiled when snowy petals fell,
So cold and wet against my eye.
The frost of age — its spellbound knell.
My waning wake; it’s densely spry.

My age old tongue catches the drift.
Soft wrap, about my arms, a gift.
Fresh scent, a lift — newborn adorned.
The clefts, where light does land, forewarned.

When I smiled, snowy petals fell
Against my eye, so cold and wet.
The spellbound knell, its frost of age,
It’s densely spry, my waning wake.

My wobbly knees snowspent,* they cry
To gentle Lord before I die.


9/3/2020
Contest - Charonnet
Sponsor - Charles Messina
8 syllables per line - howmanysyllables.com

*snowspent - my word - drained of energy, and falling

Forever

Forever His mercy stands, boundless immensity
Unchangeable, tender, the goodness of God
Always was, and will always be

What right do I have to be here?
Why I’m chosen I cannot conceive
To partake of this gift through our Lord, Jesus Christ
Free to all who in faith will believe

Forever His mercy stands, boundless immensity
Unchangeable, tender, the goodness of God
Always was, and will always be

With confidence now I draw nigh
His pardoning voice do I hear
From the clefts of the rocks to the feast of the Lamb
Reconciled I no longer fear

Forever His mercy stands, boundless immensity
Unchangeable, tender, the goodness of God
Always was, and will always be

In the court of the Father on high
The court where my Surety stands
I’m acquitted of guilt by His death on the Cross
See my name written on His hands?

Forever His mercy stands, boundless immensity
Unchangeable, tender, the goodness of God
Always was, and will always be

Smoke

A blind light crashes 
through bar windows.

Since they began to talk
her breasts had moved 
to a small apartment in his head.
The smoke from her cigarette
shaped words
into sensuous motes.

He imagines her lungs.
They are green-leaf not black.
Inside the bronchi and alveolar
sylph's teasingly beckon
out of a spongy foliage.

Votive clouds lather red lips.
Words flare dark clefts of desire.
Throats assume vapory feelers
inside a filtering breath.

He needs her addictively,
a blood craving
that seeks her as an inhalation.

There’s a strung-out intimacy 
between them.
Eye’s smother, and blur
as they absorb each other.

Soon they will meet
upon an in-between world
where each visual breath
forms fumy erotic dreams.

Meanwhile, a midday daze 
permeates their smolder 
as they sightlessly
light another.

Over Hill, Over Heather

Over hill, over heather
   Creeps winter weather
A thin mantle of snow
   Overlays the hedgerow

Wind whistles through trees
   As tiny twigs freeze
Creatures retreat to their holes 
   In meadows, on knolls

Parks and playgrounds deserted
   Sunshine's rays introverted
Icicles seen in unusual places
   On craggy rocks, in clefts' spaces

The ground's stiff and it's hard
   In both front and backyard
Brooks and streams turn to ice
   As do small ponds in a trice

Over hill, over heather
   Creeps winter weather
Birds of a human feather
   Must needs band together

Betwixt Page and Poem

What separates a blooming rose from dead seed in a field? 
It's life! It's life, no man defines, creation's child and yet
The empty page, a piece of wood, a marble slab can yield, 
An art that bends the heart to joy, from feeling to vignette! 

Inspired! Inspired! That's what men say when soft and hard converge
And what's left standing's something new, yields love and poetry, 
Some colored lines, some clefts in stone, man's synapses engage, 
An image resurrects the past in fearsome symmetry.

Are God's strokes bigger, does He see imagination's end?
Is life a new experiment, fresh colors, poem's sound? 
Oh, does He marvel at man's art, not jealous, more a friend? 
Are we a twinkle in God's eye? These questions seem profound! 

Long Tooth
November 3, 2018

Lovers of the Night

lovers of night
strangers
lovers of music and song
lovers of night
nightstrummers
strummed to the grooves of the song
lovers of woman
speak like singer
they say what right and wrong
lovers of the night
come together
in concerts
to appreciate the songs

Love Exam

Who's voice meatus
with a sweet tenors
tone
which words are sung
so lovely
so smooth and sweet
Nonet Musette?
Atonal Baroque?
Vivace Trill Trombone?
uh, you don't know
Rubato Tutti?
Meatus Tablature ?
sweet, sweet tone
do you have interest
in the clefts notes, huh?
does the whiskey from de Tablature
calm you want mi?
Sensual sounds of a Clap Happy crowd,
yes which sung is sung
that which is played is danced to
yet this is the Minuet Mezzo,
who's mask is perfection
and who's face shall be revealed
this very Minuet Mezzo!
Must the Bass Note keeper
make the Cleft Note Keeper 
smile, for one then to hear
them together?


Article Seven B', from the Works of Hussy, copyrighted 1856, She Chopped the forest down to create the perfect Bassoon, she found fun in a Dogwood tree. She became angered when An artist used one of her Bassoons to serenade his new lover. When a fella in the crowd took her away from where the tomato's were she was heard saying, " he so stupid, darling: he so stupid!"
She tossed tomatoes at him when he Played " Must be Love" to his fiancé.

Free Styling: Because I Am Free

sitting here
at the keyboard,
lettered blue notes
flow with rhythmic melodies
inking bars of varied clefts
of poetic pitch
rising from
B flat decrescendos 
to C sharp crescendos—
peaking trilling lights of truth
from a major second:
gifted by the most high first

Celebracion Viene

Let's love,
Live life
Pay prices
Give gifts
Climb clefts
Feel free
Join Juveniles
Whose worth
Can Clean
Filthy flaws
From faces
Of Oceans
Tearing tears.

The time to take the
Right Round rolls right
Before best builders
Whose wits wets wastes.

Make meaningful meat 
Out of Other's odds:
All animals ain't
Satisfied seeing same sects.

Jump Jump
Joyful Jump
Joy jilts
not nomads
with wits.

Winners were
onces oily
lossing lossers.

Try try
Hard hard
Celebration comes.
    18:01:06:13:58

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