Autumn, a-drowse
Ag'ed, drag them.
As deaf to a leafy music's
Bright shimmerings
As blinded are, further above
To whose throne rings.
Behind its sound
What do I see?
Out each branch hung, with timbrelled hand
A worshipper.
Nature, plainly more conscious of
Its own Maker!
Rise
Release
Our lady
Blooms sweet nightly
Mothers pin wishes
On her petals
Wrought as stars
While babes
Drowse
This poem is being distributed under terms
laid down by galactic conventions of amorous angels.
By breaking the seal on my lips, you agree to be bound
by the following conditions: you will frantically search for perfection
in love and end up a snack for worms; you will never regain
that gemlike slumber in the universal womb
which is the only thing worth having; you will waste your existence
in howling pursuit of the phantoms of desire,
which will suck you dry as you ravenously feed on them.
No warranty, expressed or implied, is being made
that you will conquer cities of moonlit enchanted towers,
or bask in the homage of rajahs with perfumed beards,
or drowse in voluptuous pomp of erotic temples,
or be otherwise enabled beyond necessity.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I dragged this cig, my brain went far gaga,
The same cigarette brand that brought me joy;
A puff, and I slipped into a pooh-Bah,
One short drag became enough to destroy.
My legs wobbled, the world around me spun,
I heaved heavily, yet relief slept still;
The fun I sought had never yet begun,
In its stead, I commenced a mental drill.
As I puffed a new cig to chase a fad,
Deeper curiosity did arouse.
How can a mere cigar torture so bad,
A dream taught me the thought in intense drowse.
Later I learned the cig was laced with crack~
The closest I came being a junkie;
That pal later picked madness in bump's track,
Why I never became a crack flunkey.
The nights were short,
A clear summer, long and hot,
A chickadee visited every dawn,
And caught a stunning view by the pane.
Maybe my nest’s walls knew,
A fluffy gray-black chick who...
Lit the sun pointed to my nest house...
Captured my morning drowse.
A courageous little skylark,
With a notorious chirp crack,
She repeatedly taps my pane,
And sharply beeps, in rhythmic strain.
Pulled from beloved slumber, I scan who,
Through my drowsy eyes, I view...
The vivid rattle, truly, she’s a great dancer,
My ears almost paralyzed by the clatter.
Through the solid unglazed pane its clear,
The morning breeze powers the air,
The lovely melody alarms my doze...
Tirelessly, she airs her pose.
The shrill stole my focus,
A lone owls’ hoot – a secret in the sunrise,
The arduous tweet feels counterfeit,
But the unfolding truth won’t lie or cheat.
Lay you down and rest your head
There are lots of days ahead
Take not much of life's pressure
Health for one is the greatest treasure
Think not much of foul winds around
For, all too soon will kiss the ground
Lay your worries to the sky
His hands guard you, way up high
Sleep tight and dream sweetly
Leave behind the things that are earthly
Damp your thoughts in drowse of wine
Celebrate your life, divine
Meditate on things that are useful
Being solemn is being hopeful
Rest your mind, let it know
That best things are yet to show
Zen, zinnia, zephyr poetry contest
Pitch black, invisible shadows
Darkness creeps on doors and windows
Sky is dim and the stars don't shine
The night is drowned in drowse of wine
Light is shy on tales of gray
Even daybreak is a sad slay
For, the grim of dark afternoon
Shut the light of the dawning moon
Who could forget that dark of day
When the world was capped in gray?
Even the light of brightest dream
Was drowned in shock of freaky scream
Promise of morn is half concealed
Even the face of dawn is veiled
For the shadow of yesterday
Caps the heaven in mist of gray
A shattered image in empty room
Of once a great love that came to doom
The fading footsteps on the floor
Echo like banging on the door
A heart of glass broken in pieces
Misses the hugs and all the kisses
Like a sound of lonesome lullaby
The song of heart that's left to cry
Clouds are gray and day is dim
Sunlight is bright but sky is grim
As if today has no tomorrow
Smile is drowned in pain and sorrow
The puzzled look from an olden glass
Misses the heart that it really was
The bright smile on once shiny face
Is drenched in drowse of sour grimace
There was no drowse and blood was shed,
Candles ground is where martyrs lie,
Through felled brothers, you fought ahead,
There was no drowse and blood was shed,
Through the carnage fields, black boots tread,
Audacious knowing you could die,
There was no drowse and blood was shed,
Candles ground is where martyrs lie.
The rose has blackened in my book,
and there is no wisp of you.
Your absence brings back that one brook
that once brimmed with love and hue.
The kitchen knife lies lifeless, lone;
I cut an apple for you and me,
your laughter rings in here, I groan
in agony of that memory.
Our garden has now become mine,
and now I know how silence screams.
This lily, this peony of thine
will too leave me like a dream.
Must I go back to a ‘house’?
It oozes with your happy thoughts.
I sit by the gate and drowse
while my heart homes distraught.
Let me love you baby
Let me make you crazy
About the way I love you
About the way I hold you
Woman when you're with me
I drowse in gust of ecstasy
Your voice is like a gentle touch
How I love your way so much
My body trembles when you sway
I get down to my knees and pray
Hoping you'll be my forever
That through the end we'll be together
You're gorgeous like a beauty queen
You're like an empress of silver screen
Your smile is like the light of morn
When I met you, my hope was born
5th place
As low a lap, o'erspread
This white cloud - of lace.
Old Summer, the peasant
A-drowse, beneath, trace.
Loneliness, like a sickle that rips the soul to the bone
One that makes you feel you are alone
A feeling of utter desolation
One that kills the hope in your emotion
Desperation, like a rope that strangles your will to exist
In tearing sadness, it's hard to resist
Like a drowse of enchanted magic potion
That fashions a mortal illusion
Desolation, a state of intense hopelessness
A painful feeling of drastic emptiness
Like a creeping soul in the gloom
That lost all its chances to bloom
Emptiness, a feeling of complete depravity
That savagely severs your ties to reality
A state of bleak disposition
That tears down the heart of your volition
May 7, 2023
Anatomy of Melancholy Poetry Contest (10th place)
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Sometimes, the sweetest smile
Can be the most dangerous
It may seem so docile
But tricky and perilous
It can rope the hearts in twine
Or drowse a soul like wine
It can make a cold heart fine
Or slay from behind
May 6, 2023
Sitting on a quiet dock
Gulls and raptors nearby talk
Spring is clearly in the air
Longer days, more light to spare
Dancing sunlight on the bows
Lazy current, still in drowse
Moving where the currents flow
Take me with you, I will go
Thinking thoughts far out to sea
Dreaming dreams of you and me
With brilliant sunsets on display
To watch forever, every day
I walk out to the dockside edge
And looking down now from the ledge
Water surface, shimmering view
Reflecting back not one, but two
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