Contest: THE SIMPLE POETRY
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Date: September 4th 2026
A warning signals
at the daylights dim.
An inconspicuous drop or two
tap my cheek -
An impulsively deep inhalation
as I glare at the clouds.
A more rhythmically consistent
offering of droplets touch down!
More excitable water follows
trampolining on the ground.
Puddles beat like drums
in a heavy rock band.
Soggy wet through
where I stand...
The brolly blew the wrong way out.
My waterproofs a flapper.
I grumble a sigh and shrug
at my failure to stay dry
as I'm caught out in the rain.
Cornwall Security employee has in daylight today exited work vehicle in thousand oaks to initiate false name using another's forcibly removing public utility access from the army corps of engineers in the United States of America. Per declaration
Removing free speech
Time now is 9:59a.m
Interested parties up to the AFL-CIO and all account holders in California have previously been named defendents
Order of city draw from account concludes upon registration entries of harbor house desk pantry fool reception.
As to whom is eating
Typically "fasting" days, rights and laws devolve internment districting rather astutely in history.
That one has as currency and is currently undergoing the burden of halting on side notes for another's labor in a daylights gaining momentum.
Conjectures reposing argument precludes
He was born in Groesbeck, Texas and his name was Joe Don Baker.
Sadly, after living for nearly nine decades, he needed an undertaker.
He attended North Texas State College on a sports scholarship.
He starred in "The Living Daylights", "Cape Fear" and "Joysticks".
When I say that he was a very talented man, it's not a joke.
He died of lung cancer which proves that people shouldn't smoke.
After living for eighty-nine years, he perished and it's a shame.
Joe Don Baker was a skilled actor who was destined for fame.
[Dedicated to Joe Don Baker (1936-2025) who died on May 7, 2025]
Some flowers bloom well into twilight,
moonlight mesmerizes them,
leads them into dreams of distant dawns.
The velvet drapes of summer
do not offend them,
rather they entice
as they bathe
within deeply tidal lullabies.
Gently the blossoms succumb,
gentle is the soft enfolding.
A warmed and darkening air descends
to couple with the intimate scents
of floral favors, perfumes that linger
upon wafts of intimacy.
all hidden by sequestering shadows,
an efflorescence is shared
within a sanctuary of confidential pleasures,
raptures far from
the harsh dazzle of daylights
prying gaze.
Sure as the sun breathes with daylights colour
Shadow of a thought twilight's inside hope enters
as we build this world together
Stepping forward unto the plate sharing within peace
Stars veiled by drifting clouds revealing source
In a courtyard of stone echoes carry footsteps
Blind cold fingers being icy
Crawling snakebites over the spine darkness
Baited with sharp frozen deadly rasps
Anchored in the ocean mist
opening up a treasured chest
Pirate of a thousand dreams
Sailing away on a desert storm
Council held inside the tempest
Lightening when it strikes home
electric where the pulse beats
One soul re-burns with a heart in tow
Reborn from the fire
A mirror moon stares out
from below a lake,
an eerie up-light
that should entrance the eye,
and yet
ghosts rarely do.
Above, a displaced luna glow
dreams in its dark cradle.
The earth is entombed,
a twilit cavern
for drifting phantoms,
between the between.
Insightful eyes behold,
the non-appearance
of all things.
Then as daylights glare returns,
doubt rises once more,
to confound the faithful.
A thousand stars bore their pinpoint holes
into a centimeter of dark sky.
If that drifting cloud disappeared,
ten thousand more
would pierce through perception.
If we were to shift our sight
just one fingerbreadth away,
a universe might leap into our eyes,
and remain there,
to shine out,
in the brightest of daylights.
Rain has laid the leaves out beside its long dead tears.
The sidewalk is sick, slick with the drowned.
The war last night between all belief systems
and daylights harsh flush of reality - is over,
finally, there is peace beneath our feet,
as heads down,
we walk above the bone-hard truth of ourselves.
It snowed last night
I awoke listening to the cold whisperings
of windblown flakes.
Peeking through the closed drapes
I can see that the snowfall fell just enough
to cover the base of the concrete birdbath.
The sky has laid a white cloth over the lawn
and as yet there are no claw or paw prints
to mar that coverlet.
At the dim fringe of dawn
a grey fox appears.
It pads a path across the virgin snow,
it prints painting a shadow trail.
The fox does not stay, but crosses
my view in a heavy trot.
Where are you going grey vixen
the conies are not yet awake
and the geese are sweeping
a new roof of sky with their wings,
showers of snow are shaken from the trees
as they pass.
The daylights tepid gaze lingers longer,
tectonic plates of cold air shift acres of silence,
yet my windowpane creaks
as if a pacing frost still trod across it.
For darkness does not flee before the light
It soothes the ruffled edges of dusks need
Opens slowly the buds of sleeping stars
Oh, darkness you have shielded me in dreams
Allowed a hardened soul a softened sight
A glimpse within the shadows of day’s light
I’ve rested in the stillness of your soul
Saw more clearly then the essence of the whole
The Zen of hunting fox, of fearful vole
For dusk is but your lover’s call to me
To slip from daylights chaos and be still
For dawn will soon dispel our reverie
When ears capture some true speeches,
Heart feels comfortable in daylights.
August 9/2023
The town I was born into was a grit incubating slum.
It was the worst of places yet had some gruff-faced
high-headed days.
On those few times
(days that did not seek to hammer me down
into the brick and rubble strewn ground),
I would walk like a lord-ling
in my own spit-rinsed and grubby manor.
I would swagger, daring all to cut the throat
of any withering word
or to blast the staring eyes and ogle-mouthed louts
as they came at me, only to ski-daggle or sidle.
In those long hours, in those dank drenched daylights
I would fight knuckle-hardy and win
then wear a trophy cut on my chin
that ached in the stony-breathed air.
I was a tough and scrawny king atop of his small heap
and the town bowed down to me until the next day
when it sought once more
to murder my rough-hewn soul.
Bought home in a battered case one day
He took it out and and scratched away
Playing out of tune and terribly flat
He scared the daylights out of the cat
The horsehair that ran along the bow
Had escaped and departed long ago
Never mind, he played without a flinch
While next door the neighbours winced
Melodies unrecognisable to human ear
He can't keep time or bum notes hear
'I'm a virtuoso!' he likes to boast
But in truth - he's as deaf as a post
20 April 2023
V words writing challenge poetry contest
Constance la France
Are your thoughts still leading for poetry?
Do they leave the audience wanting more?
Or born thugs who hide them as a mystery.
Are your thoughts still leading for poetry?
Scare daylights out of them in memory.
Roaring a chainsaw as they reach your door.
Are your thoughts still leading for poetry?
Do they leave the audience wanting more?
Written: March 10, 2023
In the waning moments of daylights song;
night birds at rest call softly to the stars
cicadas and crickets noisily sing;
as the golden hour waves goodbye.
Baby deer and ducks look on amazed;
everything goes silent; it’s the edge of night;
a lonely Queen sits, shining her crown;
for nowhere can the golden light stay.
During the dark of night a misty rain falls
touching treetops along the deep valley.
Dripping from branches to rising creeks;
Sleepy eyes carry water from the fountain.
Memories of her float about the fields
from winding paths we feel her presence.
Into the depth of our hearts; the memories speak,
of an old broken tree that used to stand tall.
A hummingbird gently nuzzles a trumpet vine;
the sun falls gracefully upon her passing;
the old queen’s crown shall always shine;
But nowhere can the golden light stay.
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