PARADOX
a
serious
conundrum
light
absorbs
apparently
is
arranged
&
transformed
yet is
distracting
cryptically
in a state
seemingly
elongated
in an optical
illusion
of
a
perpetual
being
to
surface
simultaneously
&
to preserve
reflections
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Looking out past the cracked windows
of this tried tenement building
blankly stares into the busy ice frosted street.
I sit and watch the passing machine, humanity
every one a different shade size or identity.
The world we know is a fragile show
of what is real and surreal just beyond our senses…
I sit & watch, feeling the Outerworld turn
in its quite dark orbit around my inner eye.
People pass not knowing the truth of the other world,
as it burns, I feel it just beyond on my grasp.
Reaching completely clumsily into the veil
looking deeply into a fragile-looking glass.
Looking past frosted crack windows
feeling completely analog
looking cryptically into the world.
This moving machine,
moving slowly as humanity
a flesh and blood machine fleeting…
Watching the outer sphere turn
Waiting for what is coming to burn!
Just a few days ago
Someone -
I didn't know him that well,
I sort of considered him to be an extension of my family,
like an uncle, or maybe an older cousin -
cryptically told me that there was a special day coming up next week.
I was clueless as to what he was talking about.
A party?
Someone getting engaged, or even married?
I had no idea what he was hinting at.
Your Birthday.
Oh, my word.
I completely forgot.
How old am I even turning?
Maybe, just maybe I can have the day off
so I don't have to stand up in front of 200 people
While they sing to me.
Yeah, fat chance of that ever happening.
Oh, well.
At least it's only once a year.
And I know of at least one person who is sending me a card.
I Am Not Chuck-Will’s-Widow
Part I: Bullies, Lodging and Treats
Whip-Poor-Will at twilight —
Tremendous skyline.
My wings ~ vainglorious, like a teen girl’s locks.
Nightjar
Goateater
Bugeater
Bully-based bias, cryptically colored
along branches and leaves.
And don’t step on me, but do hover
near my nest
if you’re a tasty treat, not a pest.
Part II: HAUNTED
away she flew, wild-eyed, pale,
see-through; buried under my wings.
the mourners nearly stepped on her;
litterfall and cladodes -
fear and delight at my whip-poor-will dirge.
7/23/2020
I am a Bird - Personification Poetry Contest
Sponsor is Tania Kitchin
Face it my Facebook fan
Read my face if you can
Not buying my ideas, new
Directed cryptically to a few
Wrong target, right platform
I have agreed to reform
My love for you, will stay
Part we must, if I may
You will see me from afar
Standing across the bar
Sometimes happy and sad
At you, I am not mad
Framed out pridefully perfect above the crisp glow of embers, is Family.
To each side sets sarcastically cocked crooked, Love and Hope.
Reality streams blindly through the window
While drapes try bravely to filter the unwanted.
Slightly above the door, where the dust has long been gathering,
Hangs curiously a sign stating, “Trespassers will be shot on sight”
Engulfing the significant part of the room is a hypnotic piece of art.
It has “Your Life” meticulously designed within it's brilliance.
This place has been kept cryptically locked away for ages,
Safely out of the reach of any who try's gaining entry.
Lyn Church
Book of Relevation, cryptically asserts 666 " the number of a man "
Two thirds into the apocalyptic vision his appearance has began
This dark magical number appears in so many ways
All the numbers on a roulette wheel = 666, lets play
In the Pennsylvania 1980, lottery scandal
Equipment was tampered, three sixes the winning handle
Even computers have had this number to worry
Macintosh's Seven-Dust virus, in 666 bury
In a book called the Bible, Adonikam's descendants amounted
To Jerusalem and Judah, from Babylonian exile - 666 were counted
The Aryan tattoos of their Brotherhood
Six sixty six, a number understood
Is this just a number or is it coincidence
That it surrounds us, in our very existence
Are we to be afraid of this number in any way
hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia, seems this number has many says
If cryptically I look at gegs
and all I see is scrambled eggs,
I wonder if it can be true
the answer to this crossword clue.
Seven down is 'postmans sack'
(with cryptic clues you learn the knack
to beating evil crossword setters.)
You're asking me how many letters
I can't resist ... its hundreds!!!
A gray-torn sky hangs above the world like a grim lid
and all the pretty stars are shyly hid
But between the pillows of that heavy cloud
falls down a trickling tear sparkling proud
Midst the dim and the quiet anger
there comes a familiar word from the wandering stranger
"Peace and love comes through the night,
for those who feign the obstructed sight."
Cryptically spoken with hushed cries
skin may thin but hope never dies
at least not tonight under the angel's frown
because eternal love trickles down
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