An African drum throbs from a distance.
It is heyday and there is rejoicing.
But ululations surround me suddenly, and tensions
Climb gently the steps of a dancing heaven.
As my lobes grow softer and my hair stands
On the grounds of love,
I sense the throbs on my hollow soul,
Near, yet so far, for the wretched wench
Whose sweet eyes I have descried yonder.
I was gently awakened by euphonic cooing
of mated doves perched on aspen branches
whose golden leaves rustled sweet silver songs
I rushed to open my wooden dormer window
and hum a greeting to their soft morning trills
With hands splayed on the ancient stone sill
my face welcomed the sun's auroral warmth
I felt the chill of Autumn's breath biting the air
and exhaled in contented sighs of appreciation
for the stunning beauty of this mountain valley
To paint nature's colors without dreary compromise
would require a far greater artistic hand than mine
While gazing from my cabin's primitive casement
I descried a canvas stippled in blazing pastoral hues
framed by the rustic charm of my bedroom window
('I' refers to God.)
In dolour, he descried the leafless pine
And under its shade of dearth lay supine,
Cerebrating how not e'en grains of sand
Pay heed to him nor his woe understand.
I thus deigned to limn Myself on his sky
To consume its vacuity strewn so high
That I painted a canopy of stars
And shaded him from the plots of scheming Mars.
I then, in all literality, blanketed him
In the fabric of the welkin, and seraphim
Watered his lifeless pine with lullabies
And read him tales and cosmic alibis.
And ere scarcely closed his eyne and sleep's kiss,
I restored the sky; on it drew a marvel of bliss.
Then after the cosmos fondled his heart to peace and reverie,
I turned it all into a dream and dissolved it in his memory.
Life's fight; And The Fighter
Through this posture of sleep
Descried as harmless, both.
By Moon. Soft o'er does creep.
~ No Soul Descried ~
He sauntered out and rubbed his eyes
No soul descried, left or right
Were all the rumors true, not lies?
Mid-day the hour, not dark midnight
He scratched his head, pressed on downtown
There, windows boarded, sealed up tight
Deserted sidewalks, void of sound
Most all stores shuttered, dark their lights
Now stares at him a frightful sight
Two heads, four eyes; test-tube, thin frame
His ray gun gleaming -- Awful plight!
The human prays, his life fair game
"Am I alone? Last man alive?"
God paused and smiled: "Hand-picked ~ Survive!"
Iambic Tetrameter
~ My Faith ~
(Set deep in New England woods
of days long gone by)...
The forest held me in her spell
Enchanting visions 'round yon dell
Amidst the silence, peals of bells
'Twas then descried a carousel
Its stallions seemed to fly right by
They flared their nostrils, gave a cry
I shook with fear; I don't know why
Looked up to view a blackened sky...
All light snuffed out; the end seemed nigh
My heart's blood cold, prepared to die
I clung to Faith, yet asked God why
Then bowed my head for God's reply --
Dark spirits grabbed ahold of Faith
I could not see aught but her Wraith
It used to twitter before though it was never descried,
It used to fly before though it was never recognised,
Today it trills and is heard as well,
Heedlessly it soars through the sky where merrily it dwells.
This is the kind of arena,
Don't you think must span through the whole era,
No one can stop us from leading towards destruction,
Do you believe we always need a Corona?
Away from the mocking world, we are now with our families,
The eyes that used to yearn to see us are now homebodies.
Golu Molu and Chunmun stories have revived again with Grandma's old potpourri,
Never lived until now, Capture these moments in the mind's eye,
And have a heart-to-heart talk with our beloved ,
That we helplessly couldn't, as time flew by,
Sure-footed, we are, this misfortune will crawl,
Nobody can stop us, this Corona will too befall.
Believe me! This time of love, restraint and faith is fragile,
Don't you find it rather peaceful that than the artificial world that is vile,
Enjoy with your loved ones, Can't you?, for a wink,
To live life king-size,
There are ages to blow in,
To live life king-size,
There are ages to blow in.
These trembling lips cannot bear to remain mute
when their quivering begins in my deepest root
Surf upon the wave's crest of a stimulating ride,
Enter my secluded orchard upon a flowing tide
Saunter into my arbor and taste my honeyed fruit
Allow each nibble to entice with unbridled pursuit
Warm yourself in the sun as we sensually collide
Ripen with me until temptation is languidly descried
Inhale the fragrance of my skin on fleshly curves
Embrace the throbbing titillation of tingling nerves
Unshackle your heart, and have it not be denied
Caress every part of me as your fingertips glide
Hold my blossoms as they call to your heartstrings
Drink deeply of my nectar; flit your pinioned wings
Pluck me for your pleasure, with hands that shake
I await your touch; to relieve my heart of its ache
Bleeding on bed of thorns
I descried a cave of woe alluring
End of that happiness dwells .
Leaving the cave of body
life flees with the messenger of
death to her final home .
Seasons sleep in the cave
of time to reappear with the call
of the piper Earth .
A feeling, love it epitomised,
Once, just once i descried.
A girl kissing her beloved admiringly,
Her hand brushing her each hairstrand singly.
Oh yes, yes you heard me right,
She canoodled her girl beneath the moonlight.
Soon they parted,
As if something is erroneous,
Incorrect is not them,
It's our belief that is fallacious.
They aren't unlike, they aren't mistaken,
They just need a law which is left untaken
How can they be dissimilar?
When the word *****means 'same'
How can they be different
While the similar feeling they claim!
Wrong are those laws,
Disallowing to choose who you wanna be with,
We the people have flaws,
Tagged 'ADVANCED' with the same old myth!
The waves loved the shore,
But were forced into the sea,
Yet they chase back each moment,
Just for the sake of their glee!
-shrutika kahale
Descry
The schooner sailed upon the sea
Creating whispered waves below
I stood close by the crimson bow
In stillness near the quiet dawn
with no distractions save for gulls
The fore and aft sails moved as kin
The sun awoke resplendently
Awaiting Neptune and his aides
And kissed the ocean with delight
An ocean’s shimmer with a light
A tremor stirred to my surprise
Distress entangled in my heart
A shape arose immense and huge
Leviathan monstrous in size
A monolith with dark blue hues
With seconds in its brief repose
Creating breakers as it dove
My heart retrieved its normal pulse
recording sights that I descried
A spectacle I’ll ne’er forget
Descry Contest
Sponsored by Rob Carmack
May 30, 2017
A Parody of Sir Philip Sidney's Sonnet 31 from Astrophel and Stella
With wobbly steps, O Youth, thou climb'st the stairs!
How clumsily and with how red a face!
What! Dost thou trip and fall about the place
and pray thy folks sleep soundly, unawares?
Perhaps thy little brother who now sees
thee fall can be persuaded not to race
and broadcast to the house thy plunge from grace.
Thou could'st bribe him with money and say "PLEASE!"
Whil'st thou cling to the handrail, bleary-eyed,
now in thy shameful state, O Youth, pray tell
are friends thou partied with, like thee, unwell—
in fear, lest their condition be descried?
Those youth who guzzle beer in lieu of milk
will bring ignominy on all their ilk.
May 9, 2015
Once I descried yonder
this brazen sky leaning over
to kiss the demure earth.
I ran
toward that conjunction
to join this blissful union
and be in perfect accord with Nature:
To bloom like a flower
Or twinkle like a star!
I ran
ran in sheer madness
ran in sheer delight,
A strange sensation
spreading over me,
Lifting me high
high into the sky.
Tears of joy
welled up in my tired eyes
and I saw this dull world
in a celestial perspective!
But I went on and on…
Now distressed and spent,
A step further, I collapsed –
Lost and defeated.
~ A Brian Strand contest
~"Descry" contest by rob carmack.
quintain
From my wheel chair facing their veranda
I could not distinguish the girl next door.
She looked somewhat like my niece, Miranda,
except for her hair halfway to the floor.
(Miranda always kept her hair shorter.)
I turned the music down so I could hear
the conversation that was taking place.
Although I consider myself a seer
who reads expressions on a person’s face,
I discerned the voice of a reporter -
well-known correspondent on radio.
She posed some questions, most of which I missed.
Once she turned her head towards me, just so
and I caught one, clearly getting her gist.
“Is your neighbor watching us from her deck?”
Taking the hint, I retreated inside,
unaware of how obvious I’d been.
It was then I saw what she had descried.
Eavesdropping had not caused her chagrin,
‘twas the field glasses hanging ‘round my neck.
Long ago there was betold
a tale that many have descried,
of a creature, scaled and icy cold
havin' two black bulging eyes.
An impudent beast, brassy and bold,
bewitched because of foolish pride.
The myth tells she's often seen
withered, wrinkled and omg mean!
A bitter and ugly nasty ole fiend,
bellowing in screeches is her choice
in dead of night and midst of day.
Stench of breath from tooth decay.
Close your ears to that shrill voice.
Don't let your children out to play.
Don't get close or point your finger.
She'll bite, chew and claw at you,
so do not pause and do not linger.
With sharpened talons she scribbles
unintelligible things in bloody dribbles.
Heed this warning and you'll be spared
from the furious fire breathing dragon.
From in her cavern she once even dared
to scream in defiance at the morning sun,
yelling curses with her waggin' tongue.
Then she nestled in the back of her cave,
resting her head upon a pillow of dung.
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