Sometimes, I follow faded stars,
not for the light they give,
but for the memory of where they stood
when the sky was loud and certain.
I walk the silvered edges of old maps,
tracing routes that lead to ghost towns
and gardens overgrown with silence.
There is comfort in looking through a haze;
a softness that the sun forgets,
the way a secret tastes
when it’s been kept too long.
I do not need the grand arrival;
I only need the thrill of the adventure.
To ‘feel’ the quiet gravity of things
that are almost gone, the wonder;
guiding me through the darkness,
until I am just a shadow
leaning against the night
staring at faded stars.
Quilted woman’s dwarf man showed off his duds
Some of his co-workers sounded like Elmer Fudds.
They were jealous of his outfit, make no doubt.
Some went home angry, others gave a little pout.
In Sicily’s cradle, so tender and small,
A newborn dwarf elephant—no larger than a doll.
Seventeen pounds of wonder, pure and bright,
Born full of wisdom, with gentle might.
Eyes deep as earth, a soul wrapped in green,
Feasting on leaves where innocence has been.
Clean-hearted vegan in a world grown wild,
A tiny giant with the heart of a child.
Oh, cuddly marvel that time let depart,
You dwell in our memories, whispered from heart to heart.
A love that once roamed where the past softly wept—
The cutest lost baby the Earth ever kept.
(The AI title was “Whispers of the Lost Tusker”)
Dibble dwarf was not as bright as his clan
He lived by his wits, but they were not so grand
His dendrite highway was tiny and short at best
He sat on a steed that needed a lot of rest
Why is he riding a snail? Asked many of his kin.
Dibble dwarf was in a race, with no chance of a win
He was born with no gray matter, said his sister Kit
Dibble dwarf sat on the snail, not moving a bit.
Philippine dwarf sunflowers
Beautiful, swarming all the way
A walk to go nicely looking
The flower seeds that was cast away
Now scattered blooming without end
Among the rocky greenfield
As far as eyes can see smiling
Noonday hot yellows swayed by the wind
Just beneath my knees kissing my skin
Below my gaze too many suns waving as I passed by
Much more so seen now at flower shop in jars and vases
Adorning all eye to muster passion and beauty
Hoping someone to buy it or leave it.
Mirror mirror on the wall she wants me so
but I am little and she is white as snow.
In this tale of small things
Horny the 8th dwarf sings
heigh-ho heigh-ho it’s off to twerk we go!
Written: May 2015
Faerie thought she was blue, but some said she was green.
Her orange faerie wings had a unique shine and sheen.
We like what you are doing with yourself, the dwarf grimmers said.
They were wanting the map information buried deep in her head.
She kept her thoughts to herself, not sharing knowledge with them.
The dwarfs are her friends, and she protects them from the grim.
The universe swallowed my thoughts
In another instant of uncertainty
Truthfulness and doubt together were something
Morphed into a new creation of nothing
As if my time itself were the black hole
And I, a dwarf star in the infinite sky
Waning in the moment’s loss of control
Where another hope was left to die.
Shapeless and unseen in darkness
Lost in the infinite, recessive light
A contorted mass of possibilities gone
Like the dim light of a rainy dawn
Ambitions and plans stricken by loss
And I, a fading star in a familiar crowd
Carrying an even more familiar cross
To be convicted of the sins I’ve avowed.
Brighter stars illuminate without me
Much like the brilliance I once exuded
A new creation of barely something I’ll be
With much less to adore in low luminosity
And as the universe recycles these thoughts
Uncertainty strangely becomes known
In all my doubts, I have become a have not
With my mistakes left with me for which to atone.
In the judiciary of high quality
Where the advocacy is Equality:
Ideas that keep clashing with partiality
And would not condone one more cheap casualty…
Outside the court room stripped of Audacity,
In many regions facing Adversity:
Wherever the target is facility,
Not fair matching Dullness with Agility…
In Equality we catch the leveler
Of the sedentary one and sworn traveler,
A sparsely peopled body and China’s spill-over;
Those who sweat all day and the in-clover…
But they’d fight it: Giant made equal to dwarf
For being ships you don’t pair up with boats at wharf…
One doesn’t with Equality front an Earl
Who by reason of Royalty is a Pearl
Or maiden subjects pit against Princess
Who of their own free will they highly assess…
Battling with equality is skin color:
The worse for one whose complexion is duller.
Bonsai is an art of cultivating miniature potted plants
Away from the natural habitat and normal growth
It's modified to create an art
Its stems are twisted and turned
It's roots are surfaced
They can't stretch far
It's leaves are trimmed
They flourish mostly at the top
An old plant usually looks like a young sapling
And maybe a dwarf
An artificial modification
Appreciated and admired by many
But freedom of the plant is then overlooked
Luckily unlike man, plant has no soul
Mushy the dwarf woman lived a stress-free life.
She had berries, acorns, cheeses and no strife.
Her husband introduces her as his fifth wife.
She is a master cook who wields a fine steak knife.
Mushy knew his other wives, the angry four.
They sometimes met her in the grocery store.
They had mean stories about her man and his snore.
She got angry and threw at them a juicy apple core.
To be anything more
than what it is
To be anything more
than who you are
To be anything more
than what’s been said
To be anything more
—than anything more
(Dreamsleep: August, 2022)
Who is that guy? The dinosaur maids asked each other.
He’s the ultimate dwarf eater said one. He is my brother.
They each wanted to take him home to their mother.
But he stayed single, for it was his “druther”.
A paranoid dwarf
A paranoid dwarf
Working at a Lagos wharf
Does fear his ending up in a fridge
By crossing a suspension bridge
Offering a picture of a farm’s ridge
And doesn’t a dime care
That the other workers he does scare
Before now not hurt on a single hair
Walking the bridge as a pair
Soon, everyone is annoyed
About dealing with a paranoid
In courage plainly void
And to make an impact buoyed
Now everybody knows This Mister
Enough to loudly whisper
That not every dwarf
Barefacedly acting the rough
Is necessarily tough.
Doing more with less,
I cut out the middle
Doing more with less,
all life from within
Doing more with less,
I qualified nothing
Doing more with less
—Nirvana begins
(The New Room: July, 2021)
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.