Ground’s call, leaves old
drape fall, don gold.
I wake to a ceiling that never changes.
The light spills in like an accusation.
Time is a slow leak,
dripping purpose onto the floor
where my feet no longer rush.
I used to believe in ladders.
Now I just stare at ceilings
and wonder if floors exist.
I measure my days in coffee spoons,
tiny scoops of borrowed energy.
The steam rises, restless and aimless
like thoughts I never finish.
They settle somewhere I can’t reach.
I used to believe in sunrise ,
Now I just pour the day
and ponder if hours dissolve.
I suit up for stray interrogations
pride buttoned up like a carapace.
Sweat trickles and tickles
like suspicion crawling down my spine.
I drape pantomime across hunched shoulders.
I used to believe in conversations,
Now I just nod my head
and surrender to the script.
I tally stones and crumpled bottles
toss them like failed intentions
into the bin of almosts,
where echoes of effort rustle
like mice skittering down rusty footpaths.
I used to believe in plans.
Now I just trace the outlines
and color them in with sighs.
I crawl toward the bed like a deadline I missed.
Even sleep feels like work I am not qualified for.
oh, how perfectly you drape
swaths of moonlite on your shape
now you've chosen its soft blue
for this night of something ... new
you've decided we're too single
that we need fresh ways to mingle
so, if you'll grant me the dative
methinks we should get creative
I'm hoping these night sweats'll
find our limbs wound to a pretzel
you and I, one limber body
twisted close, and rather knotty
could it be, we're going too far
with this night of karma sutra?
still, the shapes have just begun
and we're having so much fun
though I think our best positions
come between, in the transitions
for like ALL in life we savor ...
it's the tasting ... not the flavor.
Copyright © 2018 Gregory Richard Barden
Contest: Favorite Things
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date of poem: 15th August, 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A sky kiss on rose beauty,
long for bees in flight
to reach sumptuous nectar,
where rains blend with fright,
yet no sun to dry,
after many days of rain,
clouds still drape the sky.
Contest : Seasons Now And After
Sponsored by : Nette Onclaud
Date : August 10, 2025
Trails of rain fade at the fringe of summer,
supple northern breeze whispers on its way.
Strands of silver clouds slowly sail away,
graze the ash of end-summer’s smoky sky.
Sunburst horizon spreads gossamer drape,
tepid spectrum emits from slant sunrays.
Birds bathe in their shadows in fawn meadow,
autumn is near, they twitter, looking far.
Satin grass will wear crown of topaz dew,
flicker with the flair of dawn’s crystal glow.
In cinnabar lawn tawny trees listen
in the crunch of bronze leaves autumn’s footfall.
Contest: Rolling With The Rs
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date Written: 3rd August, 2025
Placement: Fourth
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Heartbeat,
loud in my chest,
sings with sweet melody,
like the cadence of a streamlet,
when its silver ribbons drape the mountains,
with a smile that delights the sands,
as it cascades the slopes
and thunders—like
heartbeat.
Watching the empty streets
As a heavy rain wash the dirty town.
Deep darkness drape the drives
That lead to dead ends.
Drafts of wind dash hanging pots,
Ruin is the reign of the time.
She barely breathed a farewell.
No whisper weaving a soft adieu
Not even a hug or a parting kiss.
My heart echoes a hollow hum.
It beats like the harsh wind outside.
Life is so hollow, so non-descript.
And sleep has fled. I’ll find no rest.
Sorrow does not sleep. Shadows fill my room.
No moonlight penetrates the heavy drizzling clouds.
Suddenly I leave my forlorn house
And wander right into the rain. Wet and cold,
I feel cleansed and I return, the past washed away.
That night I slept deeply.
.
'long thuh long
arm
hern rests
Purty
her legz
drape each it's
side
"comfortably"
thuh poet writes
Her belly
firm 'gainst it's girth
whilst
her chin rests in her
propped up mitt via
hern petite's taut
arm
And whilst her visage
smilez
she starez up
"Ahh" herz gasps
peek'n through thuh
canopy
az she spy'z an eagle
spiral'in thuh open
Her curious guess
"it's spy'n
my beauty"
Over by the bridge watch them link
Swans congregating before flight
Curtains of dusk drape at the brink
Over by the bridge
The ebon sky soon out of sight
as the red sun begins to sink
the chill of autumn fills the night
Gliding force, unabashed blinks
huddled they aim for evening light
as they swim together in sync
over by the bridge
Time, be of the essence!
O spark of head and heart!
Fate and Fortune, Chaos, Chance!
Anoint, O my art!
Will, be with me! Stand and hold!
Glow in fiery cold!
River bottom, hast thou gold?
Underneath the mold...
Glass, clear vision, futures sought.
Slice of seer's trade, tell.
Flicker, form of friend? We ought?
Brightly rung the bell.
Eagle, lend thy mightiness!
Coyote, thy tricks!
Heaven and Hell, say God bless!
Priest, thy crucifix!
Questions trapped in wrinkled time?
Cane or cone or crime?
Yule! The choice of sung sublime!
Draped upon the dime...
Trillium flower of decay!
Shine upon the bay!
Dynamite, discord, dismay!
Point me out the way!
When we seek, we're sought? Well... Hail.
Prisoner, pay bail!
Drape thy life, O garbage pail!
Afford not to fail!
Carrion crow, about me caw!
Dread not, O my saw!
Thorn within the lion's paw?
Stab them 'neath the jaw!
Friendless is this wizard!
Thus look thee not away!
Blow and blanket, O blizzard!
Doom and Death, thy day...
Like tufts of cotton colored red and rosy
And scattered through the baby sky at light
Eve’, twilight clouds are whirling around the white
moon, orbiting their spoke, all lush and lazy;
Or strands of cloth sent fluttering a’mosey
through late afternoon drowsying near night,
and circling about, like crimson kites in flight,
a beaming moon, swirling afloat and hazy;
The heavens, swelling into a wide expanse,
glow splendid. Strewn with stripes of ruby sweet,
engulfing night draws in to drape the day’s
affairs with its dark quilt. So the romance
of a thousand million stars takes its seat
by the moon’s glow, with effervescent rays.
The pale half-moon,
like a swag of sheerest organdy,
adorns the sky...
an ornamental drape
on an ethereal window.
Like a solemn drape on a weeping sky,
a rain of insight as vast as the sea,
with a belly brimming with hidden truths—
of sorrow, stillness, hope and loyalty,
and of wisdom, freedom, and clarity.
Images from a cogged box.
A camera reveals
hips and ankles, ribbons
decorously draped
over a contrived modesty.
An artist has added a color tint,
their cheeks are rosy,
their lips red,
a patchwork of painted glow.
Half revealed bosoms flush and bloom.
Pauses in an upper room.
A warm lamp licks,
feathers and brocade are adjusted.
The girls choreograph
next moves.
A gentleman photographer
toggles knurled brass knobs
throws a veiling drape over
his head and mind.
The models are beyond
this moments capture,
they are sealed by silence,
yet their images,
their one-act legacy,
is an amber inclusion
raised up as a photograph
for all to admire in secret.
The house of my life
Is rotted and cracked.
The floorboards are warped,
And all of my broken windows
Welcome wind.
But from the rubble,
I’ll piece out a coat,
Made from my very best pieces and shards.
Patches of carpets that came from Tibet,
And the spiderweb strands of a once regal drape.
Cupped like an egg in a frothy current of days,
You, my bird, my bud, my tuft of fuzz and light,
Inherit this coat of broken things,
Something more meager than a manger,
But sewn from all the love wrung
From a wasted life.
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