Countenances Poems | Examples

Whispers in the moonlight 26-10-23

Amidst the tranquil moonlit night, the forest murmured secrets.
The leaves rustled in hushed conversation,
the shadows in exuberance
darting from trunk to trunk,
languishing wherever the moonlight was absent.
Shreds of darkness form an eclectic collection of silhouettes,
dusting the trail with beasts yet to be chartered by man.
The haunting howls of owls enchant the night
sending animals bolting frantically into the undergrowth,
their rough countenances illuminated
by the eerie glow of nocturnal fungi,
ignited by the moon's touch.
In this hostile ambience,
a petal of purity ripens in to fruition.
A figure in a dove white cloak amongst the silvery darkness,
beneath the skies, beneath the trees
dancing and fluttering in a hidden breeze.

The Drum Is Beating Still

The drum is beating still
For now the setting sun
Will set the beating heart
Now that the race is run

Beyond the moving breeze
Beyond the dying light
The phantom thunder cries
The drum rolls in the night

The shadows in the dark reveal
The moonscape of the lawn
One feels the beat percussive
Pulsing – on and on

It beats a rhythmic message
In passages beneath
The granite stones that listen
To what it will bequeath

Of music it has harbored
Of songs it dwells upon
That sing we still into our cups
For those among us gone –

Behold the moving shadow, now
Behold the fading breath
Passing through the doorway
Beyond that final step –

And now what countenances
The thunder in the sky?
We hear it in the distance
But miss it with our eyes

We miss it in our living
A spirit unfulfilled
Forever in denial –
The drum is beating still


Dedicated to Bruck, Tiz and Neil ("The Professor") Peart -> Drummers all who left their mark, and are beating still within my heart.

Orphan 'Round

*Image of Lyre Box Organ Grinder by Pixabay

Orphan 'Round

A chimp's bereft tambourine in its paws
jigged 'round a bunch of detaining gazes,
donning smiling countenances or jaws
that plunge as the organ grinder phases.

Rhythmic jingling in sync amid the crank
that stirs 'round, eliciting monies freed
from purses and billfolds as the rich thank
the dual busker's intrigued act indeed.

A sincere beast calms down by a soiled boy
fronting the crowd, an orphan of the streets
note 'round the hurried hush and yields his joy
and sadly looked down as woe gauged heartbeats.

Coins and bills spill and a bright lad kneels cause
a chimp's bereft tambourine in its paws.

2022 May 28

Life On Line

Oh, latest iPad, may I hang thee,
From the nearest garden tree!

A Grinch, thou art and nothing more.
Causing me, endless problems galore!

As always, Safari is to blame?
Almost a tune, that puts me to shame.

Why is it I , who is always at fault?
I dream of joyful days of saddleshoes 
and malts.

Of humanity speaking, face to face.
And of being social, was of no disgrace!

Typewriters and mail, oh how I love!
This electronic age, hardly hand in my glove.

I miss the aroma of fresh, pencil shavings.
Thus goes, my off the wall nightly ravings.

People no longer look at the beauty of one
another.
Pasty- faced countenances adoring their beloved,
electronic other !

A ghost faced, global society?
Which dreams a worthless vaccine 
can save humanity?

I despise propopganda with my entire being.
And on our devices, is all right we are seeeing.


                   9/30/2021

Be Humble

Better performers interpret.
Experimental values appreciate.

Honest countenances humiliate.
Unknown delights elate.
Many pearls of wisdom concern.
Binding capacities hold.
Literary aptitudes exalt.
Extraordinary commendations mention

I Will Always Love You

I will love you for the rest of my life, 
Feel your hair against my cheek, cascading 
Over my shoulder, the brush of your lips 
The warmth of your breath, whispering 
Tender words I needed to hear, my wife. 

In white coats and somber countenances 
They brought the worst of my nightmares 
“Ten months,” they said, “with treatments 
Less without...perhaps five” our experiences. 

You accepted your fate; I never saw you cry 
Two years now since you quietly slipped away 
And I miss you more with each passing day.

SECOND PLACE WINNER
Revised April 22, 2021
For "Grief" Contest
Sponsored by Line Gautier

Screams

Can you hear it?
Not that anybody presses so,
But still,
There they are.

Their obnoxious shouting,
With twitching countenances,
A purely inconceivable demeanor 
Consisting of nothing
But insanity,
Lust,
And overall
Ravenousness.

They used to walk,
Walk inside,
And back out again
Ever so orderly.

Gloriously gallant guards
Protecting the central base
Of their livelihood.

Now,
They scramble
Writhing,
Self-penalizing,
Wriggling with utter chaos
As the lot of anxious, 
Swinish abominations
That we now realize they are.

That we are.

Mud

Freezing the moment,
as I carry it forward, 
like a backpack full of rocks,
I search,
skimming over the vacant eyes of the ones I pass,
their faces looking back at me,
exposing the crisscross of wrinkles
on scrunched up countenances,
rehashing memory.
I look for a panacea for the fire and mud,
an antidote,
a happy magician to come
and dissolve nature's tentacles of indifference.
The stiff corpse of a bear,
washed down the mountain in a river of mud,
surrendered to the mother, engulfed in her final say. 
And now the waiting,
until the military men say it's time to go home.

Images of Corruption

In the famed halls of tainted justice,
on granite pedestals, 
stand carved images of corruption
Sculpted stone countenances, 
with etched somber appearances,
pillar levitate in Roman atriums
of grand pall splendor 
Wicked dead visages
placed disembodied erect
in the mausoleum corridors
Sullen sepulchre sentries
to the crypt chambers of the living 
governance sinful body
Graven images of corruption,
who clashed amongst themselves
in the mirrored days 
of their fleshly reflections
In the vapor wisp of a contentious life,
they were united in a singular unjust cause — 
to establish blood oppression in sanguine perpetuity
Their unturned heads now peer straightway
down the dark judgment hall,
whose steps lead to the pit of perdition
Bottomless fallen souls ... 
vertigo shrieking echoes
silently muffled
inside carved images of corruption

Masked Impressions

Masked impressions become conflicts of interest, when synonyms
Are exteriorly presented as such, but intrinsically are pure antonyms!
While the skies’ feelings are transparent with their idiosyncratic looks,
Are there personality barometers, to decipher our intents like open books?
Hence dissimulation has become seamless as if an ingrained aspect,
Where conspicuous expectations are rather what we shouldn’t expect!
And so predatory politicians pledge heaven, but deliver pleasantries of hell,
While some radical clergies’ instigative teachings echo like a woeful knell...
Disguised saints roam streets, as if on a pilgrimage to some holy land!
Whereas their tainted feet trample virtues on the other hand!
What has thus become the sincerity of countenances on faces?
Glances portraying relics of hidden motives beneath the surfaces?
How deep must we then prod the counterfeit of outward expressions?
Just so we can even glimpse, beyond the guile of masked impressions.

©Maverick Nyambu

Beyond the Facade

Beyond the façade 
Beyond the untermable countenances
Deep into that realm
Where emotions abound
And vary in variety:
Pensive, happy, sad, joyful,sober,
An eternity of moods,
All masked by that deceitful mask
That is the face

A fake smile to a foe,
A frown to one for whom your heart truly longs,
To mask your desire,
An sigh of apathy in the face of that which you truly yearn for,
Beyond the "perfect" smokescreen
If only we could peer deep down
Into the abyss of the mind
And behold the storm of tumultuous emotions
Which rage beneath such a beautiful countenance
We'll see that its all
Just a façade.

Lovely Lips

LOVELY LIPS

Her slow burn shimmy,
blows red kiss across the ballroom floor.
His raven dark hair,
hand in pocket,
slowly walks across the room,
captivating her breath.
He says nothing.
Only catches her eye.
Then takes her, into a powerful hold.
Slowly, they tango.
His dark shoes gleam
in the full moon.
Her elegant heels - slip and slide, dip and dive,
with his every move.
Their countenances both hold in prideful stance.
To the side, cheek to cheek, in contrast.
Hardening and smoothing.
He’s waited for this chance.
She’s dreamed of this fate.
Masterfully he whips her
into a frenzy.
Her soft red curls,
move with the tease.
He finishes upon his knees,
with a perfect rose, standing tall, 
proposing with attached ring.
Tears splash down her steamy cheeks.
He yearns to hear her lovely lips say yes.
Anticipation, his pulse races.
In control with thoughtful grace,
her breath releases, her lips form
affirming words. They embrace.

5/16/2017

Calvary

Although their blows knew no restraint, 
Their countenances no control, 
He bore their hate without complaint
That love might make their hunger whole.

The curses that had filled the night
Gave way to stifled sobs and wails, 
While on that hill the infinite
Was held for half a day by nails.

He cried aloud in grief and pain; 
The soldiers stopped awhile to stare, 
Then turned their backs against the rain
And grubbed among his underwear.


First published in Outposts, England

Three Faces Philosophy

Three Faces Philosophy


What keeps the certainty,
The “solid” floor underfoot,
Which physics has taught me 
Not to trust,

Or the tautness of my skin 
Holding me in?
Taught me naught 
Where I begin,

Or end
And in the end, is the reward 
The Knowledge, the prize,
The secret of this mystery of
Life?


Mired in the supposed toil 
To an extent we must, we must,
Growing old countenances 
Labor under the force of gravity,
To deny our return to dust,
We exist sad beneath fantastic disguises.

Smile

Its beauty is beyond expiry
makes all countenances appealing
exhibited by only humans

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