Assimilates with fireworks in the sable blue sky, the luminous daffodil orb emitted from the statue’s torch - twin towers intact. Demi-towers stand tall as the celebrant colors sizzle and whiz, like exploding stars, overhead. The city “that never sleeps,” a memory candle framed over my mantle, hemming in New York Harbor with its endless billowing sails. Red, orange, yellow, snow-white, cerulean passion at its happiest peak. The Lady stands relaxed, welcoming, even the two ‘copters. No one’s unhinged, fearing for ash, no human wears a pair of wings. If only time stood still as a piece of art.
Categories:
copters, america, art, celebration, imagery,
Form: Ekphrasis
In the quiet
I hear a sound
Fills me with dread
Every time
Though the years
I look up
Even when inside
I learned it
Then I was young
To know it well
What it meant
Never is good
Always is bad
Bad for someone
Always is bad
Long ago
Many years
Learned to fear
Copters
Categories:
copters, poetry,
Form: Free verse
In the quiet
I hear a sound
Fills me with dread
Every time
Though the years
I look up
Even when inside
I learned it
Then I was young
To know it well
What it meant
Never is good
Always is bad
Bad for someone
Always is bad
Long ago
Many years
Learned to fear
Copters
Categories:
copters, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Under a trembling
Dark shadow of pain
I am gathering
Cloud and cloud again
From the lost ocean
From the gone river
Is my collection
From the spent shiver
In the dried petals
In the closed chapters
Sit those pink signals
Debris of copters
From clouds I collect
I look for some rain
That would resurrect
The bird in my vein
Let the cloud break down
Let the pain-ice melt
Let blue sleeping gown
Get the breath I felt
__________________________
23 August 2016
For ‘Five Rhyming Stanza’s-5-only – Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Categories:
copters, art,
Form: Quatrain
Xmas post card kind of town
Quaint pedestal upon mount
Self sufficient opulence
Copters as school bus.
*
Categories:
copters, community, nostalgia, romantic, snow,
Form: Dodoitsu
Dearest momma,
I sure do love you and miss you.
From this helicopter, I get a gruesome view.
Some friends are wading in the mud.
Carrying one wounded keeping him out of the crud.
I hate to say it, but Vietnam's like hell.
Everywhere you look you see fragments of blown up shell.
When will this war ever end precious one?
Will I see you at home or beyond the sun?
Keep praying for these copters to stay in the air,
and to keep us here in Vietnam, safe from all the fire.
Momma darling I must close this letter.
And we'll hope and pray all our days will get better.
Your loving son,
Jimmy
Jimmy Anderson "World of War: Vietnam" contest
Categories:
copters, life, loss, love, war
Form: Couplet
Our leaders being Neros
scamsters are our heroes
Even judiciary is not above reproach
For justice whom shall we approach
Dishonesty has become national character
Not a day passes without
gherao boycott or stir
Where are ye patriots who fought for freedom
Look! we have made mockery of your martyrdom
Every year new scandals come to light
Then unprobed recede out of sight
Poverty debts and slums multiply
Yet ministers short distances in copters fly
What is our national symbol asked someone
I told him: It is dear Howitzer gun
Categories:
copters, inspirational, introspection, life,
Form: Heroic Couplet