Flurried Poems

We Kids Sled

We kids sled
past the home of so-long-ago.
We kids wear
snow-black boots and warm
mittens. We kids sled,
on a cold sunny day,
across the Vale’s backyard;
    Old-timers let
    us kids sled
through flurried laughter,
cheeks frozen-red,
and out all day,
     it seemed.
What was Mom doing,
I wonder? I wish I could
dust off the window
     and see her
and get a tear in my eye.
The teardrop shape is frozen
in time. We kids sled
without a care in the world.

Blow After Blow

Blow after blow lead to puddles of blood,
Mixed in with broken glass, perspiration and mud.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!", comes energized noise,
And from the death match rises a boy.
As flurried fists fly faster than light,
His eyes are fire and his heart is ice.
Would there be, or could there be, a fatal blow?
Neither the crowd nor the young one knows.

In Passion's Haste

If I let my heart be broken by a stranger
Is it impossible to believe
Or if loving at the first of sights
Not embarrassingly naive
Or if I claimed to know of true intentions
From a flurried passing gaze
Or if from but a fleeted greeting
Be colorfully amazed
Or if to me it makes no difference
Instants or many years
Or if without specifics
Commute your pain into my tears
Or if clairvoyantly I see the way
Of two becoming one
Or if to me it's always been shone
Like the everlasting sun
Or if you could only know me wholly
Now the way I see your soul
Or if it would only take forever
Fervorous ardor full

The Marauder Rage

A marauder’s rage and heroic might. 
Castle enchanted by savior’s shield,
The peasant looks upon her light.

Emblazoned eyes and flurried delight,
Odds against him, salvation healed. 
A marauder’s rage and heroic might.

Soaked ground by bloodied knight,
Standing tall on fallow field,
The peasant looks upon her light.

Soul emboldened and ready for fight,
Dragon’s fire, the enemies kneeled,
A marauder’s rage and heroic might. 

The bell tolls and dragons take flight,
With sword in hand, harvest yield,
The peasant looks upon her light.

Enemies scattered amidst their fright,
Soul and heart have thus been peeled,
A marauder’s rage and heroic might.
For the peasant looks upon her light.

Wing a Little Wink

Dew christens morning grass underneath my feet
          Chilled senses in the mist, fill of something sweet
Sun teases its reveal, tempting me to pause
                   Palms in a flurried rush offer their applause

Feathered friends of every sort wing a little wink
          Chirpers as they like to sing, hush to take a drink
Touching, as I stop to chat, flowers in a cart
   Lending ear to neighbor’s woes, bid to touch my heart
 
As I walk the paths and trails that colorize my town
         I could not for even just one second, wear a frown
Skies of blue agreeable to nature’s every whim
               Compliment a crystal lake inviting me to swim
 
On my walk each morning, as I begin to shine
       First remember gratitude for everything that’s mine
Then as every morning joy furthers into view
                        Better am I able to love everything I do

Magic Christmas Reindeer Little Kim

I have a magic Christmas reindeer, but it is a secret
Because she was conjured by the Christmas witch
This amazed me, for I had never heard of it.
But she was standing on his roof with pitch.

A reindeer of porcelain, can she move? I asked.
How do you know she is a she? My neighbor queried.
I watched the reindeer smile with a face that was masked.
She is pretty for sure, in this snow that was flurried.

But can she leap and fly and soar? I asked him.
She looked stationary to me, not lithe or quick.
He replied, she is amazing, we call her Little Kim.
She can slide down chimneys oh so slick.

So that was the last time I asked questions about her.
She was obvious a pet, and I decided not to doubt her.
I saw her leap from chimney to chimney too.
And she slid down a few before she was through.

My Horse

My horse prances.
And she dances,
As she spins around
She looks graceful
And so tasteful
Her hooves hardly touch the ground
Her long eyelashes
She seductively flashes
As she lifts gently in the air
Her thick mane flowing
From a breeze that's blowing
She dances without care.
She is captivating.
Her audience is waiting,
For her to thrill them more.
The horse is tiring
The crowd desiring
For just one more encore,
A moment to ponder,
As away out yonder,
Voices are calling out
They sound worried,
Anxious and flurried,
Then they begin to shout.
"Daisy, where are you?"
We have all been searching,
Since a quarter past two
We need you to come home, old girl,
It's time to be fed.
From the distance
Daisy heard the call.
What a time she had
entertaining one and all.
She curtsied to her audience,
Then she made a bow.
Then she said, "I am sorry folks,
I have to leave you now,
I hope you enjoyed my performance,
I shall be coming back.
I am feeling tired,
I'm going home to hit the sack."

Daydreaming On Gossamer's Gondoliers - Dk

Gossamer winged gondolier airships
sail on feathered wax-clad wingtips 
travelling blue transparent skies
probing boundaries transfixed on a prize 

dashing darting greeting parting
flirting flurried partners charting 
amplify dumbstruck daydreams with flair
animation takes wing to air

tails fly and tales spin
spotlights quarantine chagrin
vibrations brandish a two-edged sword 
horizons are vistas explored 

steel eyes of flint and mahogany  
mirror no clouded cacophony
daydream disciples design
the silk purse 
from rubble the blind decline



B310J

Spoken

The chaotic sounds of 
a conflicted emerging thought
pushed and pulled 
Impending anguish is wrought
Words jigsaw a
jagged puzzle
Likened a bursting hose with 
A busted nozzle
Firing out in a rushed frenzy
No time for sorting beginning from ending
Hoping to re-ingest 
as it spews out a flurried mess
Too late as it flows past cheeks
Knowing instantly the havoc it reeks ...

Weak Spots Vii

Waking up to a blazing idea
As it takes off on the page like magic,
And when doubt spreads its fire,
Their smile is there to extinguish it  

Falling into pages and pages 
Of breathtaking philosophies 
And haunting stories—flurried in fiction— With no one to call you to earth

Solitude in the vastness of time's motion,
The caress of the pages to the fingertips
The ancient scent of the old book wafting 
In every page flip

The leaves dancing in the movement
Of the world in glowing beams,
A breeze that reminds you that wind
Exists—just as love exists

2.7.2020

Note: Thank you sincerely from my heart for taking the time to read these. I hope you like this one and that you are enjoying the Weak Spots February series.

The Wood

enter the wood, end of the day
  deep deep reverb, everywhere
  eerie sound from between the trees
  from bowels of earth, around the sky

  then chilling stillness, flee or stay?
  thump thump! disturb the very air
  flurried dance, the following breeze
  as yowls of mirth personify

  monsters lurk and skulk, hide away
  blink blink, acerbic scary stare
  belly scales grow knobbly knees
  fat jowls of girth, the fleshy eye

  children scamper, fierce games they play
  beat beat, why curb their merry dare ?
  carefree clamber through ill-at-ease
  with howls of worth they yelp and cry

  fungi feast while dank leaves decay
  sleep sleep superb in fairy lair
  life poking head, no guarantees
  where scowls give birth, when dreams do die

  look up beyond where branches sway
  squeak squeak perturb the glary glare
  past hazy stars, the " Pleiades "
  night ghouls of dearth by radar fly

Whisper To the Wind

Walking through a summer night 
      Swaying back and forth , present street
      A wistful longing crept into my sight .
       
      Shifting my  gaze  upon  the  roads 
      Across the little boys holding the ball ,
      Were the men , weary of their loads 
      The blues are deep before the fall 
      Forever more -   I wander .

       Knocked my feet off the ground 
       Up above the world , a sombre sky
       So vague , I dare not make a sound 
       Incomprehensible to the dear , aye 
       Forever more -.  I endure .

      On the brink of torment ,vanished the pride,
      As my catchment cleared into the sea
      A whisper to the wind , I sighed 
      Embraced with warmth and so was I free
      Forever more -   I strive .
 
      Gusts of wind flurried through the future 
      And so shall it be  --
      In my silence , can you hear?
      In my solitude , I shall bear.

Scattered Light

For days without end my light was dim
Left battle-scarred by war within 
Left heavy by this heart of sin
Left broken by the days begin 

Though the warmth of sun kissed my face 
I chose to wander in the darkest space 
Watching the world in a flurried pace
As what was left all fell from grace 

Held between palm and hand
I watch it fall like grains of sand
One by one without command 
Until the dark in me could understand 

The pieces left could scatter light 
From every angle of every plight 
No matter how the dark would fight 
Each piece reflected hues so bright 

I gathered all the shards to see
The beauty made from my debris
Yes the dark still stirs and calls to me
But the light within shall break me free

Dreams and Journeys

Gossamer winged gondolier airships
sail on feathered wax-clad wingtips 
travelling blue transparent skies
probing boundaries transfixed on a prize 

dashing darting greeting parting
flirting flurried partners charting 
amplify daydreams with flair
animation takes wing to the air

tails fly and tales spin
spotlights quarantine chagrin
vibrations brandish a two-edged sword 
horizons are vistas explored 

steel eyes of flint and mahogany  
mirror no clouded cacophony
daydream disciples design the silk purse 
from rubble the blind decline

Action Girl, Part Ii

...When the day came folks fathered in the gym,
twas an ‘empowering day,’ they all said,
When the bell rang Jana flurried with kicks,
she was invigorated, seeing red.

But every kick seemed to just bounce off Rick,
he barely flinched when hit hard in the face,
hadn’t thrown a punch, just stood there waiting
as Jana went about the martial race.

As the first round went, her confidence grew,
and she began to come inside more and more,
then a body-blow caved in her stomach
and Jana collapsed, gasping, to the floor.

There was no point in counting down from ten,
it would be minutes before she got up,
the crowd went silent, Rick just sighed at them,
as the poor girl wheezed hard, then threw up.

Said Rick,”I hope today you have come to see
why there has long been an understanding
for thousands of years, that man and woman
really should not be physically fighting!”

And then he walked off to a throng of “boo”
from those who so wished she had beat the man,
ideology said they must be the same,
but reality just don’t give a damn.

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