A windswept mist whispers possibility
trickling down cheeks of strangers as she sashays on
Main Street’s square bares a brimming moon
hammocked on a muted sundown’s casting glow
Eclipsing from view is the last café,
a perky bouquet, a lonely sojourner
fleur-de-lis— yellow iris profuse
With an unwavering discipline held
as if carrying the coat of arms
Gisèle proceeds down the rue de chagrin
December, daughter of winter, descends with a silence that invades my soul,
Hatred crept slowly and surely into the marrow of my bones, poisoning them,
My breaths release blue beads of carbon dioxide,
Every yellow thought tears at the flesh, a needle lodged in the bleeding heart,
I wished to wear gentleness with grace, but the world covered me
With a thick layer of indifference, a veil of illusory indolence,
My petals of kindness hidden beneath ugly blue sepals,
No one looks beyond them, keeping my solitude intact,
The blue sepals stir waves of sadness in my lonely chest,
Half-smiles and pale feet, signs of deep melancholy,
Months pass and my skin is pierced by thorns, the flesh bleeds,
Dirty blue flows, my spiny armor embraced with pain,
In the world of cold, solitude becomes a silent and safe haven,
The poisoned blue flows through my veins, embracing suffering as a friend,
Guardian of the wounded heart, yet alive and beating beneath the layer of defense,
Accepting this secret burden, I find strength in melancholy.
Her skin, pale and fragile
as bone china
protected by a heart
inviolable, gilded threads
weft and warp cloth-of-gold
that flys pennoned from her
shoulders, red hair burning
brighter as she competes
with the setting sun
As night descends, the heavens celebrate,
The birth of stars
Through the tossing trees,
They send down their toothless smiles
The Moon too smiles with glee,
Like a pleased mother.
The Earth in darkness,
Looking at the illumined sky,
Follows suit and lights up
Street lamps open their eyes,
Flooding the cobalt streets.
Neon bulbs blink from hidden homes
Car lights dazzle like lightning
Glow worms, like night sentries,
Parade round with mini torches
The roads ring with the sound of returning feet
Fairies roam round for their nightly gambols
Day laborers coil lazily to rest
Letting their barbed distractions melt slowly away
The dead in their sepulchers sleep peaceful!
Among the muted murmurs,
The cicadas’ sounds alone swell.
This is the time for life and strife
To lay their heads pillowed for serene sleep
Under the blanket of a dim lit night!
Nov.15. 2022
~ Placed First~
Beauty of Night Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sotto Poet
Slowly descends pall of death
And dies the old faith,
Life gasps for last of life-breath,
Where a green meadow
Once was, rules death’s dark shadow.
______________________________
Tanka |31.05.2021|
Poet’s note: After a long, long time I had visited my old village. And what I saw caused me a shock. The green hillocks around had turned barren showing grey rocks. What ere a verdant valley was had nigh but gone, nearby meadows no less grey. Like all Tanka poems, this one has five lines, but the syllables are in different order: 7/5/7/5/7 in place of the usual 5/7/5/7/7.
When night descends,
The heavens celebrate,
The birth of stars
Through the tossing trees,
They send down their toothless smiles
The Moon too smiles with glee,
Like a pleased mother.
The Earth in darkness,
Looking at the illumined sky,
Follows suit and lights up
Street lamps open their eyes,
Flooding the cobalt streets.
Neon bulbs blink,
From hidden homes
Car lights dazzle,
Like lightning
Glow worms, like night sentries,
Parade round with mini torches
The roads ring with the sound
Of returning feet
Night prowlers come out
To prey upon innocents
Fairies roam round
For their nightly gambols
Day laborers
Coil lazily to rest
Letting their barbed distractions
Melt slowly away
The dead in their sepulchers
Sleep dreamless!
Among the muted murmurs,
The cicadas’ sounds alone swell.
This is the time for
Life and strife
To lay their heads pillowed
For restful silence
And serene sleep
Under the blanket
Of a dim lit night!
Placed First
A Brian Strand Libre Verse Poetry Contest
the sun has just set
in pale black gown, the day glides~
tranquil lies nature
Placed second
March.3. 2022
H forms Traditional Nature Haiku
Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Constance La France
What does Lord descends to the lowest heaven in the last third of every night mean?
1.No country on the planet earth has a permanent day or permanent night.
2.The North Pole has midnight sun for 4 or 6 months from late March to late September.
3.The northernmost town in the US,experiences darkness from November to January every year.
4.The Northern parts of Greenland,Alaska,Canada,Norway,Siberia have almost no daylight for months.
Couplet
Har kisi ka apna din apni raat
Har kisi ka apna nazriya apni baat.
Joy
descends
on the road
past unkindness.
Yield to God's control
once hope's seeds have been sowed,
you can rest when battles invade.
As mind and soul seek to implode -
compose your dismal heart with a song.
Joy descends on the road past unkindness.
Voice your fervent requests, hear the Lord God;
He cares and answers every prayer
if you are honest and sincere.
Side with him on the details;
If you don't understand
Christ can make them clear
Voice your fervent
requests; hear
the Lord
God.
February 7, 2022
The rhyme is there, if you look for it,
the focus is on the repetition in this
dectina refrain.
Sponsor Angela Tune
Contest Name Joy, Hope and kindness
Twilight descends on the surrounding hills !
I hear a lonely bird trill!
The most soulful melody I ever heard!
Her doting mate is not yet with her,
Is she going to croon all night long,
And fade away in the vermilion horizon!
For "Bite-size - No. 33" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Edited on 17/1/22 from my poem "Promise"
Lamet!
is what she hears first
him, screaming her second name
as he descends upon her
no time to process
gravity
a thud, tearing her core to shavings
Maiweeeee! She is puzzled.
His baritone dropping the 'n'
agitation
a wooden scrabble.
Nothing is left between her
and Pee, not a grain
all’s crushed
smothering their screams
interlocking their groans.
He is a pawn, no saphead
giving it to her, a pounding
her splinters
putting him on like a glove
a blood-wood
fragments of his body all over her.
She, a Mortal
(he notes the ‘r’ replacement)
implodes in silence, his pain.
She is deep
no winnowing basket
Her pleas chaff going with the wind
consummating with eyes
but she, too dry to go gunky.
Left to recline in the tree shade, heaves
silent sighs among groundnut sheaves
“You know I l-o-v-e you,”
“Yet it spells p-a-i-n, right?”
“We are just pieces of a g-a-m-e dear,”
he sighs rolling onto his back.
=========
Peaceful, quiescent.
Evening descends, heart ascends.
Soul touched, moonlight blends.
=========
1/17/2021
~1~
The Mist from Hell Descends on the land
the mist settles down on the land
the mist is from hell
the mist covers us all
the scent of death
the grim reaper
rides behind the miss
infecting those around him
the mark of death
as the mist covers the land
the end of the world
comes with the mist from hell
a sanguine sun sinks - as night's ebony curtain of darkness descends
shadows coalesce - shapeless silhouettes conjoin - color atrophies
~
And as night descends…
eclipsing a faintly glowing canopy,
fading salmon swirls
into indigo memories,
sprinkling diamond-like clusters
in constellation patterns,
inviting a chrysanthemum moon
to bloom amid comets pirouetting
upon a milky way dance floor…
I dream of you,
for you are the only
heavenly body to grace
the evening sky of my heart
~
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