A past the soul, eats
Memories of people
Event of many seats
Rained on. the steeple
Church prepped proper
Pews filled, flowers decked
White gowned, the monster
The future not yet wrecked
Confetti and photo shoot
A grand reception follow
Live band and MC to boot
Something, rings hollow
Joined in unholy union
Stoic empath and diva
For now, in communion
Twixt novelty driven fever
The mirror will break
Pierfect no more
Prisoners to take
To a distant shore
Blame games ensue
Victim turns villain
The truth to lose
Years two score ,fill in
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Springtime’s hum appears~
steel teeth gnaw the thirsty grass,
spits green confetti.
Scent of violence lingers,
fresh-cut and gasoline sweet.
New Year ball falling
Colorful confetti flies
Fireworks maiming
The whiff of angel hair untidy
reeks a reft of detritus
with showers of glitter, confetti
raining down torrential,
on poesy of angel breath petals
amongst the roses, daffodils
and daisy chains
written on a page
cheered on by a sage,
succumbed by
the celebrant's rage
to breath excess
on angel's stage.
sunlight skims the stream
buttercups like gold
c o n f e t t i
f
a
l
l
from heaven’s hand
I have this fear that beyond my years
Every word I’ve said or written will be gone,
Like dust in the wind or seas where rivers end
These thoughts of mine will vanish with the dawn.
No money or fame do I proclaim
Nor legacies of great things I have done,
No battle scars or discovered stars
Or a trace of any race I’ve lost or won.
Like most of those whose time now holds
Their words and thoughts erased,
Confetti like into the skies
I fear that wordless fate.
The dying of the poet’s dream
Of living beyond oblivion,
For someone to read these words indeed
Would save this soul from carrion.
Only time will tell if letters spell
The end of all these phrases,
Mere scribbles now that may somehow
Be read on future pages.
© Terrell Martin, 01/05/2025
I met Kindness;
I guessed he was in his early thirties
Rode the bus like me and sat next to me
He liked my hair, thought it was neatly done
I sat there waiting for the catch, none came
In the evening I met Kindness again
This time she wore a pretty dress
She came to me in the street with a smile on
Said she thought I was pretty, I blushed
I never knew kindness could be a stranger
Yet it feels so familiar and genuine
If only we let ourselves put it on like an outfit
And let it spread all over like wildfire
The world would be a better place
Devour sprinkles,
my tongue a flavor’s canvas;
Brushed confetti rain.
So like a puzzle, poorly jigsawed, with edges that never meet.
Shredded, sliced, and torn; and much too small to be folded or broken.
Wee bits of paper, wafting in the air, and falling to the street,
As the throng below shout the words which once a year are spoken.
In pastel tints are these minced papers, that float on gusts of air,
But now they pause in anticipation as midnight's hour comes near,
Then sail to earth like windsurfers, to signal this night without care.
Now is a time for choice and direction, as they hail in the New Year.
Our conversations quickly turn to black confetti.
Dining in separate cells.
Fingering our cell phone pals to death.
Until they turn us on.
Chips in our relationship throb.
Yellow tape outlining respect.
Where does love go?
Oh, where does love go when it's
gone?
If confetti mated spaghetti would it produce graffiti or prosaic mosaic?
Storm into my heart with your blues
And make them my own
Eclipse my emerald eyes in such passion
I will never feel alone
Rain upon my neck with nuptial nibbles
Like black crow consuming flesh
Flood my face with colorful laces kisses
sweet like cake slippery like fish
Bring me your love be it long overdue
Like communion Sunday sermon blessed true
Full of red brown and blues like your love
So hot yet so cool.
Last eve's sunset wowed
for it held a million hues
as night stood waiting.
Reds and plums, hailed fading blues
Orange and pink spread the news.
I took a photo
of scarlet sun of my heart
in midst of tango.
A prelude to faint starlight-
in time's pretty pause.
CONFETTI
I’ve loved confetti, since I was a girl.
Rainbow painted, and soft as a curl.
A baptism in God’ s rainbow,
Cascading from from the Sky’s bow.
Thus, I shall always love its colors,
Falling from heaven’s own stunning show!
I-21-2022
glorious spell cast
snowflakes fall by the billions...
winter's confetti
Winter Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
Date written: 01/16/2022
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