Filmy Poems

Dawn

Early, in the pre-dawn hush
I heard the robins sing,
and then a sleepy breeze awoke 
and made the wind chimes ring.
 
Their blended notes in concert sweet 
soon filled the morning air 
as on horizon's stage the dawn 
danced in and waited there.
 
In all her newfound finery, 
her dress in filmy hues 
of lavender and rosy pinks, 
and shades of palest blue.
 
At last, the music died away, 
and dawn, in golden gauze, 
slipped off her skirts and left the stage, 
to a rooster's loud applause.

The Sly Spider

"Cheating and trapping others are malicious. One must never try to cheat, if he/she wishes not to be cheated"  ~ By Poet


At the GATE of a viscous net,
The sly spider waited alert. 
A fly flitting closer on SHADOW wings,
Was caught in the dewy JEWEL studded strings.
When about to be wound round in ductile rings,
The fly with a cursing MUTTER made a fling,
And flew to freedom on filmy wings!

Time and Tide

The tang of salt imbues the mist –
a calling I cannot resist.
I walk along the rocky shore
held spellbound by the ocean’s roar.

As darkness falls, the fog rolls in
and, from the lighthouse, shapes begin
to stalk within the opaque veils
like illustrations of its tales.

The cloying haze seems to transcend
reality, here at land’s end.
I see the ghosts of tortured souls,
their names inscribed on filmy scrolls.

There stands a lover who lost hope,
there a traitor, wrapped in rope,
a lost ship’s crew, still foundering
and fighting off the storms of spring.

Above it all, the lighthouse stands
illuminating within bands
of light this silent history
of struggles with the mighty sea.

A small breeze starts, a whispering,
a dirge that only oceans sing,
and soon the air is once more clear,
though I can feel the ghosts still near.

I sit upon the rocks and stare
out to the sea and wonder where
the lost souls seen now reside.
They ebb and flow like time and tide.

In My Deepest Fantasies

Sudden was the descent of poetry on me
I tottered under its weight
My body heated up like the sun
A frying egg yolk on the pan
My blood started burning…. burning

A strange madness crept across my senses
Intoxicated as by an excess dose of ale
Or drunk with the vintage wine
Or by some mystical disengagement
I started levitating

Wings sprouted up suddenly on my sides
I reeled round and round
Flew up and up
Meteors flashed past
Stars blinked
Larger celestial bodies stood still
Strange sounds fleeted past my ears
My heart palpitated,
Like the rumblings of thunder
My eyes glowed like fire balls

A shout I heard afar
Over the heavens’ mysterious rim
Muffled though, I could decipher it;
“Welcome to the clan of poets”!
Around me, I saw multitudes of poets
Young and old, their faces blazing
Like a thousand lanterns lit
In that blinding brilliance
My filmy wings burnt outright!

Like Icarus, from the heights
I flopped down to the chasm below
In the scattered heap of flesh and bones
A faint stir …..
…………………..
The feeble flutter of a poetic heart
Before it was finally stilled!!

in the moment

flowers near the window
in bright yellow

a filmy white curtain
swaying in the breeze

late afternoon sunshine
bouncing off walls

a tea pot steaming 
a tea cup empty

a book lying open
on a vintage bed 

colour glass vases
sparkling in the sun

a tranquil silence
fills the space

photographs
on dresser

purple walls
need paint

Love on the Dark Side

You senselessly hurt me,
     Then, demand I do not cry.

You frustrate me,
     Then, unsympathetically, punish my display of anger.

You ridicule me,
     Then, taunt me when I strive to win your approval.

You swear long-standing tribal love and protection,
     Then, crush my small, unprotected heart with indifference.

You set impossible goals,
     Then, painstakingly dismantle my ego.

You demonstrate blatant distain,
     Then, draw me inside your dark, secret circle.

You demand the obscene use of my disempowered sheath,
     Then, discard the confused Soul indwelling.

Who taught you how to love on the Dark Side?

Were you not once also a child,
     Alone, and frightened in the whispering darkness?

Did you not once also smile, laugh and sing?

Who taught you to hide your innocence,
     In the filmy guise of unrequited bravery?

A young female child cries hauntingly,
     In the background of my dreams.

If children learn what they live,
     Who taught you to love on the Dark Side?


Chula Fleming© 10/16 2016

Morning Brings the Sun

A body cold as stone
Organic flesh statue
All the warmth is gone
Your breath cannot catch you
Milky white filmy veil
Where once reflected light
Lively limbs now they fail
No soul seen in your eyes 
The spirits skin is shed
Like a garment worn to rags 
Sin-eater consumes the bread
And mourners wail so sad.
Look up ye people of sorrow!
Your loved one isn't there!
That's just the old flesh robe
While on earth we wear
The True self is in Spirit now
Ascended to the throne
And at the feet of God, doth bow 
Your name He's always known
This body of blood and bone
To the dirt corruption returns
To dust wind gust has blown
Or to ashes in an urn
no matter for it's no longer needed
We go back to Spiritual form
Death has finally been defeated
So we need not mourn
Oh no please don't get me wrong
You'll miss your dear loved one
But take heart knowing it won't be long
For mourning brings the Son,
Yes, morning brings the sun.

Curtains

Setting:  A castle garden where a man and woman are talking

Character 1 - Giselle
Character 2 - Robert

Dialogue: 

Robert: My dear, you look ravishing today !
Giselle: Thank you darling, do you like it ?

Robert:  The colors are perfect for your skin !
Giselle:  I thought so also, do you like the material ?

Robert:  I do indeed, so delightful and bright !
Giselle:  Does the material remind you of anything ?

Robert:  Well, now that you mention it, my curtains !
Giselle:  Do you think I would make a dress out of curtains ?

Robert:  No, of course not, that was silly of me !
Giselle:  Do you like how it flows all billowy in the breeze ?

Robert:  I do indeed, the inside panel all filmy and soft !
Giselle:  Well, darling did you really like your curtains ?

Robert:  I do, now hold on a second dear heart !
Giselle:  Yes, darling this dress could be made of curtains ?

Robert:  And now I see that it is, what a talent you are !
Giselle:  Oh thank goodness, I thought you would be angry ?

Robert: So let me get this straight you are wearing my curtains !
Giselle: Exactly, they were too pretty for a window don't you think ?

Color Drop Duplex

Colors drop, intermingle, and pop;
A waterfall of prismatic raindrops;

     A downpour of prismatic raindrops 
        bring focus to a filmy mosaic;

See clearly a complicated mosaic 
brushed with Earth’s salty tears;

     Highlighting spectacular tears,  
     zig zags paint an umbrella’s design;

Crestfallen streaks an umbrella design
 adding a flare of desolation and style;

    Thunder loudly echos it’s own style, 
     bold reminder to always amplify;  

Tempestuous storm fades just to amplify;
Colors drop, intermingle, and pop.

in quiet introspection - Ethereal Lanterns

at this blessed time of the year
I am in quiet introspection
seeking the ethereal ~ I meditate
wanting to set sail to divine balance
as a lantern gliding over the sea
delicate, airy and light
I am filmy and gossamer
my aura misty mauve

life is a delicate fragile seed
full of promise, hope and love
and my life is unfurling
for my floating ethereal lantern
holds a flickering light
overflowing with violet hues
I feel the ebb and flow pulling
and whispers of sweetness swirl

my meditation is lit by my soul
with thoughts painted exquisite
in magic beneath a veiled sun
I drift my lantern like a gauzy curtain
a picture of serenity over the sea
I am spiritual, ethereal, and sublime
infinite are my shades
dusty mauve brushstrokes whirl

Like A Hundred Violins

 

it is cold and the flowers are dying
becoming withered memories
leaves are drifting and rain is falling
and the river flows like a stream of glass
the grass is fading 
and birds are flying away
and the forest is taking on a sombre hue
and storms shake the ocean of my sleep
where my hair is soft as a spider web
and my filmy dress a paling green
and I stand still in this decay as a tree
with my arms outstretched to the sky
oh, the fine thread of summer is a fading thought
yet, there is a hazy beauty all around me 
and within the crumbling fragile leaves soar
oh, the splendor of the whirling burnt orange
and red leaves spinning
like weeping blood red raindrops 
oh, listen to the sweet chiming 
of falling leaves 
that I will hold like a blanket of memory
while the wind utters low wails like a hundred violins
and hidden birds sing 
a beautiful symphony just for me

a winter moment

a winter moment
captured in a cold winter 
water vapored breath 

the air we exhale 
saturated with moisture 
meets cold air outside 

tiny particles 
soon turn to liquid water 
spouting from the mouth 

that filmy gray white  
air, that is exhaled outward 
makes it look like smoke 

fresh air in my lungs 
crisp is the air I breathe in 
nature at its best

Scrumbled Brain

Red swing dance
Smooth, cold touch
Foggy white brain
Froggy right pain

Blind, tired heart
Filmy white eyes
Bad handwriting
Bland crayon fighting

Cold leather book
Warm red fire
Nice soft bed
Rest my head

Butterfly

Butterfly, gem of grace
Beauty's churned quintessence
Blend of rainbow colors
Bouncing on filmy wings
Blooms beckon their buddy
Brief, but blissful, its life!

Brooding Nimbus

Contest:  Brooding Nimbus				Sponsor: Edward Ibeh		6-19-23

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Brooding Nimbus

Midnight trails a filmy brooding nimbus,
Idle shadows etch lines on the daylight;
Vertigo lingers, teeters on limbus,
Distorted ghosts escape into dawn’s sight.

Remnants of realms, inborn of misshaped clouds,
Ruminate raindrops to bleed the bizarre
Palpable phantoms the mid-day enshrouds -
Reclines as shape-shifts in murmuring stars.

Hobbled memories drifting unresolved,
Surrealistic needles stab dazed eyes
Fretting repines, floats in veils unabsolved,
Fades slowly into the unanswered why.

Slowly day chases back mystic extremes
Evening broods in misty nests of new dreams.

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