Ancient arts so intriguing
hieroglyphs, cave drawings
Stone flints at end of spears
two combined, a pair of shears
Primitive though, their communication
the imperiled art of ~ conversation
Her eyes were like sparkling emeralds
Her smile could ignite flints into a fire
Her touch sent him wild with longings
His need for her a constant thrumming
When they were together all was fargat
Teasing and cheerings their daily ordeal
Yet he called her siz and she with a wink
Responde yes dear bro I miss you so so
They were stuck in a neat loving stack
The cards fate had dealt them inextricable
Those in the know with raised eyes then
Said in conspiratal tone.. the two are lovers
But in truth it's a friend zone they are in
Eternally testing the limits of their affection
Ideally choosing not to break their love
Choosing to sit crosslegged on a fence
Charm and love daily accusing the two..
Blest with wondrous color delight
Fall majestically stands out
Thanking God* midst nature’s praise-shout.
Autumn’s glow does capture spotlight
Exposing iridescent tints
Golden leaves beyond orange flints.
Foliage radiates great sight
Inspiring artists to blend hues
Shades of red, brown, green, yellow views.
Amidst sunset bursts, fiercely bright
Poets triumph with hopeful bliss
Resplendent scene heart cannot miss.
Propelling grand celestial flight
Autumn highlights beauteous chrome
As soul departs for heaven-home.
Blest with wondrous color delight
Autumn’s glow does capture spotlight
Foliage radiates great sight
Amidst sunset bursts, fiercely bright
Propelling grand celestial flight.
*Psalm 106:2 Who can utter the mighty acts of the LORD? Who can shew forth all his praise.
October 9, 2022
1st place, "In Remembrance of Connie -Autumn Theme" Poetry Writing Contest; Sponsored by Suzanne Delaney; judged on 10/21/2022.
Arms, legs,
fists, feet,
beating chests;
teeth meet.
Stones, bones,
sharp-honed tusks,
poisoned darts;
obsidian clubs.
Slings, arrows,
outrageous bows,
black-edged flints;
sharp-pointed swords.
Red-glare rockets,
gold knightly spears,
squat-humped cannons;
trebuchets.
Muskets, pistols,
bayonet rifles,
spitting Maxims;
Tommy guns.
Gray battleships,
deep submarines,
articulated tanks;
V-ones, V-twos.
Experimental Zeppelins,
jet-fighter planes,
flying forts;
atomic bombs.
Poison gas,
Laser rays,
will it ever end;
the race?
I was travelling. I still am, but
once upon a time I was on my way through
a particular place. It was north of Wantage
that I stopped and stepped out
of my car to survey a white
canyon.
They'd been cutting through the chalk,
the power of human engineering on a grand scale,
near the beginning of motorway evolution;
making a straight way for mankind.
I wondered at all the remains of creatures
living how many years ago? that made this dead chalk.
Scattered around were broken flints.
This one
drew my eye. A survivor, almost unscathed.
Its curves record a once fluid form, speaking
of the heat of creation, of powerful forces still at work
destroying and re-creating, volcanoes, earthquakes, after shocks...
How small the scratches of human engineering.
I picked it up and took it on my journey.
Is it mine?
No, it's His:
Creator of me.
I refer to Him in wonder.
Frail and intricate, I pass by and hold
this particular survivor.
When my travelling's done and the traffic thunders on
relentless and forgetful of the place,
this flint will remain wherever,
still.
Eyeball to eyeball
two flints rub at twilight.
Inferno is lit in hearts.
Snow fairy awakens from her sleep
In a garden frosted in silver
By a black flowing river
Hair of cerulean blue
A gown of snow-white silk
She flints on gossamer wings bathed in milk
Perching on a petal beneath
Crystal shards shimmering
In the velvet gloaming
Longing for a sweetheart
Strong, valiant and true
Who'll chase away her melancholy blues
Her song is rich in sad pathos
With questions that are unpredictable
And answers quite unbelievable
She seeks the sacred sweet elixir
She'll pass where crying is nevermore
And sleep in the realms of rest forevermore
8/13/2017
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Eight word challenge-3
the ribs of falling night
cold flints of a dark path
a dark curtain
creating two rooms
nameless stumps of teeth
melted to the white rock jaw
heavy as the light is frail
the way a black swan`s neck
tubular and serrated;
the pines guard the frost
the tree line has swallowed the sun
a dead story under the forest floor
pushes me along
all light has fled the sky,
apart from the points of dropping stars,
and the distant road into the far.
Mother, could you please leave;
our moment's glow is all but gone.
Like autumn's brittle gemstones
clinging to an icy-icy song.
Mother, could you please leave.
I mean you no harm or disrespect.
But fingering these old worn beads
has doomed faith to the bluest trench.
Mother, could you please leave.
Before I join the flints of time and fate.
A son's broken bow and listing heart
is no place for his mother's grave...
Just leave!
After the heavy rain
And the outbreak of green
Came all in a magical train
Little beauties so keen
I wondered where they'd been
On beautiful blooms
They match out a strange beauty
They mate in petals' rooms
Frenzy flaps in unity
A colony of butterflies without enmity
Their wings, colourful witchcrafts
Sweetness of existence is fun
Create them a wonderful love drafts
Like flints, they sparkle in the sun
To keep some in a jar, I took a run.
The world is at peak-sin,plastic to skin.
Morality has been skinned,left bear by immoral music and gin.
The good exist in flints,doing the positive after artificial suffer-some sprints.
The last hope of leadership has been dissolved,then drained by cultist groves.
That openly hide reality,by selling souls periodically.
Watch how they wage war,the unrest,as they laugh by the bar.
They go as far as by the false altar turning water to tar.
Make us drink filth, and preach of an unseen rebirth.
Man impersonates evil and advocates injustice to the maximum,
symbols of love and good watch and act dumb.
Forgive them both,the doers of the prince of the world's word.
Have mercy upon the listeners to the voice of He who wields the double edged sword.
By M.O.O aka the seeker of redemption.
Until the battle recedes
no more
and the earth has tilted
beyond its axis,
when the wind
gusts to appall
as in ancient
history,
forgotten
I shall remember,
As a muniment
of minutes
broke,
the sheath of silk
covering my id,
unveiled the majesty
and wonder,
ambrosia
energy flowing
in neon tubes
Revealed
in the pain
and suffering
an atom of joy,
You
Her finger tips runs down my skin like sparking flints of steel
Over the armor flesh covering my chest
Her lips pressing against my tummy, stealing a million volts of my life
Plum covered, pouting petals forming a heart of seduction, planting seeds along with each
touch
Inside of my eyes, growing universes expanding to infinity, dedicated to her
Her arms wrapping around us like vines
we are transplanted through a wormhole, transcending space and time, cascading through all
the dimensions of existence
Soul-mates amplifying a journey without end, collecting dreams and memories like seashells
upon quicksand
http://artcomet.blogspot.com/2009/12/soulmates-love-poem.html
Slowly tenderly she mocks me with love,
Whispers to taunt and flirt, the crazy dove,
So handle the one you desire with kids glove;
Who knows what makes her glide in or shove.
Those locks bold and hidden torment her style,
Make her walk the extra snow covered mile,
Breathless she clings to the warmth, waits a while;
In delight with nature's naked beauty shine:
Let me follow the footsteps she imprints,
Before the storms come and covers the flints.
Until the battle recedes
no more
and the earth has tilted
beyond its axis,
when the wind
gusts to appall
as in ancient
history,
forgotten
I shall remember,
As a muniment
of minutes
broke,
the sheath of silk
covering my id,
unveiled the majesty
and wonder,
ambrosia
energy flowing
in neon tubes
Revealed
in the pain
and suffering
an atom of joy,
You
For the Woman thats keeps me hopeful
my other Ma
Anna Ruiz
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