Juniper- a genus of evergreen
Under the cypress family list;
Neath scented leaves, new berries are green.
It had a place in mythology's mist.
Protection, Long life, Purification
Expressed in religious celebration
Rejecting evil spirits in between.
An uttered knowing, here within my soul,
My central tone, a hint both mild and pure,
It speaks of roads that bring me to my goal,
And warnings against baits I might endure.
When fears arrive, and twilight starts to creep,
It shows a light upon the righteous way,
Disclosing puzzles that my mind would keep,
And helps me see the mettle for the day.
It's not a scream, nor rumble in the air,
But soft directions in a quiet stream,
A stable knowlegde, ejecting despair,
Reviving my thoughts from a troubled dream.
So I shall attend, hear its artful plea,
This loyal advice, living inside me.
My love
for you
happened
like
a photon
strike,
ejecting
electrons
of desire
into my
beating
heart,
flooding
veins
with fire.
Zepto-
second*~
a sliver
of time
faster than
the blink
of my
eye**;
as power-
full as
Cupid's
arrow
hitting
its mark
invisibly.
*The zeptosecond is a unit of time equal to 0.000 000 000 000 000 000 001 seconds, that is, 10?²¹ seconds. It's the smallest sliver of time yet measured and corresponds to the amount of time it takes for the electron to be ejected after the photon strike.
**On average the human blink lasts only a tenth of a second which is 100 milliseconds.
In the morning I heard the tea pot singing,
With the amber liquid sizzling,
Saw spouts of vapor ejecting,
With a sweet aroma tickling.
While pouring my cup of steaming tea,
Adding some cream, a little sugar and stirring it
I thought of the magic effect it brings,
Reviving us on every morning and keeping us fit.
As we sip it while we scan the news paper
We feel the early languor being lifted,
Keeping us hydrated throughout the day,
With our cognitive abilities liberally assisted.
I feel there is nothing like a cup of well blended tea,
For a tired soul to enliven his body.
It’s delicious taste and delicate fragrance,
Make it everyone’s lovesome buddy!
It’s a heavenly drink for the torpid minds,
A beverage brewed from the best of leaves.
A magic potion for the feverish lips,
Which in tiresome hours, everyone craves.
Sure, teatime is the most pleasant family time.
How we babble and burble over a cup of tea
Drawing people closer and cementing relations.
Certainly, it’s a time to look forward with glee.
It would be fine indeed,
if we could wash out the mind
each morning.
Thoughts get stale,
the mind like an air deprived swamp,
begins to stink,
and the only way
to go out into the world anew
is in the same way
our souls came into it.
It is wise to swill and pour,
flush and evacuate,
drain and empty,
tip and spill,
ejecting all that collected piss
we’ve been carrying around,
for so many yesterday -
that overfull pot
we call our feelings.
GASP OF AIR
Death claims all the Victory
In this life given to me.
It owns the very parts of Me
Which mingled with One’s chemistry
To build a brand new entity,
Just to have him ripped from me.
Who was the enemy?
My own womb, specifically
Betrayed us all, ejecting
This tiny piece of Humanity.
Scrap to you? Not to me.
I still ache longingly
To nurse and cradle this piece to me.
Twenty years and constant suffering,
More Death than Life, if you ask me,
Since my three children’s lives
Were deemed by Someone “Not to Be,”
And Mother never made of me.
What rules for such a Tragedy?
No One knew, apparently.
All Baby Bumps avoided me,
As if my “inability To carry”
An unspeakable disease,
Passed contagiously.
Alone, I bear their Memories;
Always My Responsibility.
Now I’ve become too fatigued
To honor them effectively;
They only Live in Memory.
I’m not too proud to beg your sympathy.
I’ll even make this plea upon my knees:
Would you be willing,
Momentarily,
To hold MY children in YOUR hearts
So I can breathe?
I hear the tea pot singing
With the amber liquid sizzling
I see spouts of vapor ejecting
With sweet aroma spreading
A cup of hot steaming tea
Revives us on every morning
As we sip it when we scan the news
We feel the early languor lifting
Nothing like a cup of well blended tea
For a tired soul to enliven his body
Its delicious taste and delicate fragrance
Make it everyone’s lovesome buddy
A heavenly drink for the torpid minds
A beverage brewed from the best of herbs
A magic potion for the feverish lips
Which in tiresome hours, everyone yearns
Tea time is the pleasant family time
How we babble and burble over a cup of tea
Drawing people closer, cementing relations
Sure, it’s a time to look forward with glee
Submitted for- A Brian Strand Standard Choice Poetry Contest
Placed First
April.22. 2022
Placed 9th
Anything You Want- New Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Chantelle Anne Cooke
Hawaii's Kilauea volcano erupted,
as lava flowed over its cauldron!
The quiescent
Goddess awakes!
What once was a placid pool of liquid lava,
has morphed into a geyser of magma.
And it's ejecting molten plumes of rock
high into the atmosphere, lighting up the night.
When Gaia flows into the sea,
is she giving birth to the land?
Time contradicts;
permanency.
November Occasions
Yon
citrus
ejecting
shifts blue eyes green
sovereign swallowtails feast midst chartreuse range
~0~ ~0~ ~0~ ~0~ ~0~
whilst background pumpkin skies carve redemption
bulbed heels unearth
redolent
spicy
pie
2020 September 22
*1st Place*
Double Tetractys 3
~~Eve Roper
Picture #2
1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 4, 3, 2, 1
S-trict
H-ealth
I-s
R-ejecting
L-ung's
E-nemy
Y-ielding
S-afety
A-s
Y-our
N-eatness
O-perates
Topic: Birthday of Shirley Sayno (April 02)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Perching brazenly on a bough
The herald of spring
In its wrinkled black and white striped vest
Demanding intimacy
With its proclamation
This rogue itinerant
Reckless and brash
Ready to mate
And ready to run
Abandoning his egg filled lover
To find a home for his brood
By intruding on another's space
in ejecting that bird's shelled hopes
Socially selfish
Psychopathically intent
On securing a future for her chick
At another's expense
And this murderous charade
At every onset of spring
Will play out to its bitter end
From the first cry of "Cuckoo".
A barber who let her hair down at work
bared her inattention in sudden jerk,
carrying the pair that clips
down she drops on where it pricks,
ejecting shrills I show her all my irk.
10-Jan-2019
Limerick II Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
I'm not one of these chumps all pumped by Trump
on a mission to write a poem with punch.
That topic's lost logic, yet punks don't stop it,
scrambling new angles to tongue tangle and ramble,
it seems Donald has a stronghold on numb skulls
of trolls with their old, so cold, eye roll opinion been told.
Ejecting rejection in repetition while signing petitions
through idealism that keeps them wishing,
but the same words keep emerging
from different persons,
before merging into one big social burden,
a presidential pardon full of the same old jargon,
your words we've heard them, they keep occurring,
the demand a dead candle
with a flame all strangled and a wick all mangled,
the creativity bubble punctured on the floor like dog turd,
this static political view of disgruntled you inhabit,
a sad habit, I can't have it,
these boring poems about Trump are tragic.
D-iscard the old year,
A-nd turn it into new one;
N-ever stay in your slumber,
N-or nap because of
Y-awn.
M-onday morn January first
A-ims to dump the last night;
R-ejecting the final evening,
A-s the dawn sets things aright.
S-unday December thirty-first
I-s sensing December twenty-first dew;
G-et rid of the ten more days,
A-s the old year turns
N-ew.
Doubt
Entered
Troubled heart
Ejecting thus
Faith!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
11 November 2017
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