Healing and dealing
Stealing and reeling
Feeling the feeling
Wheelies down the spillway
Three’s a thrill
Another bill
Still...
I will!
Chill, with the window sill,
Skilled at raiding the mills,
Tilled until everyone who wants a chance can dance until-
The rest are nil haikus 4 reiki suing spells four ewe
I’ll hang with Jill ... s
Before me, less does allay
For scenery
Than quicken the blood as a form
Of spectacle.
Of mismatched broken pieces
Sheered off, crashing
Mountain-boulded and branched into
Its thawed icicle.
On the Desk of Darkness
On a Monsoon Night,
The afflatus roars in clouds,
And albedo fills the sight.
In the darkened gorge,
Among the alleys
And gravelled ways,
A lass on a jade.
Apathy of her own,
Gazing upon the dog in the kennel,
Barking and crying at it.
And when she gazed and gazed upon
The dog of ash on kindlings,
A murmur of sight on her lips,
And a wet eye with a glaze.
With a jolt, she stood up —
The roar now a voice,
The sight now white,
And the white now light.
From sight to light,
And light to white.
Like a rash, since 1943..Made ss friends, real neighbourly
Introduced them to his kin.' Off his nose he lost no skin
He took a percentage; called himself a survivour, never got
A train ride, though..Never was a camp insider.' He built up
His wealth, by deception and stealth. He's quite adept at
Negating human health, i wonder does he shiver when he
Showers? Or how does he sleep? Is the cost worth the
Power? The souls surely gone. Eyes must just be cold
Stone..No redemtion desire or move to atone.' I don't think
He showers.? But slides into a tub.as in narcasist fashion
He rejoices in blood, warm water; up to the chin, false virtues
Inventing, wallowing in sin, swallowing a camel and straining
Out gnats this old cold wrinkley, WHO craves so much clout '
Its crimminal gain, will countrys go broke? If this jerk gets
Debunked, then we, exposed his sad joke '
I stand at the edge of a canyon wide
Looking out over the tree-lined gorge
Two miles at least to the other side
Unless one chooses the river to forge,
Once was a tedious journey to cross
We always planned to take a full day
Now, it’s twenty minutes to crisscross
Giving us plenty of time in town to play,
A structural marvel, a single span bridge
A modern-day miracle years in making
It flows gracefully from ridge to ridge,
I tell you, it is incredibly breath-taking.
Written May 26, 2022
Vibrant chroma dots the mountains and valleys;
we hike the Red River gorge, taking in it’s
majestic pigmentation; leaves of October
crunch beneath booted feet.
We take our journey with care, as the cliffs
can be deadly in an instant; still, the crisp
Kentucky mountain air is rejuvenating to
lungs, too long in the city’s smog.
I stop at the edge of a cliff, checking my sure-footedness and spot a doe leaping in the lower valley; taking out my camera, I snapped a shot
of this bold being.
I’ve taken lots of wonderful photos on this hike and as the sun sets, My friend whispers, shh...I look to see a Copperhead less than six feet from us; we are fortunate that he is not coming towards us; knowing its bite can kill, we stand perfectly silent and still, so as not to startle it until he gets far enough away.
I shove my camera into my backpack and we resume our slow trek down, the cliff where we’ll head back to our car.
October in Kentucky is full of amazing fauna;
still one must beware the dangers,
for the bliss of the resplendent autumn experience.
2-7-2022
A STRAND (1068) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Fruit Cake
Late make
Brisk whisk
Taste mix
Eggshell
Crunch hell
Bake cake
Fail make
Next time
Buy mine
Eye spy
Fruit pie
Ate all
Now full
Was glad
Now sad
Big tum
Fat bum
Join gym
Slim thin
Treat earnt
Not learnt
Cheese scone
All gone
Lick lips
Want Dips
In shop
Jaw drop
More cake
Pig take
Next move
Good food
Gorge war
No more
04.11.20
Poetics Poem, Red River Gorge, KY
I traipse the course of a forking, rambling stream
Barefoot from the rounded top of one small boulder
To another, the slashing strikes of cold water
Startling my every careful leap, place to place,
Landing with deep, short gasps, yet wordless
In an utter joy of intense sensation over sun-sprinkled
Spots so bright against the deep gray hollow splotches of
Drenched stone. The stream does not trickle
Along this gorge, but roars the air and throws
Its echoing roundabout the cliffs like a newborn
Learning its scream forth from being
Buried for years beneath massive storeys on up to
Greater views. But, the stream continues its carving around
The hillside. And the newly-born cries will
Find the voices of self-expression with each gasping
Leap from boulders to cliffs, climbing in a wrapabout
The gorge’s hidden, grand lowlands and rising
Of its own ineffable poetry so fully held within the birthing
Of Nature herself, all that which carries
Of language as spoken
In the heart of God.
**********. **********. **********. **********
(C) sally Young eslinger 10/9/2020
A track leads through a gully in the bushland
Following the least line of resistance in a haphazard plan
The kookaburras and the magpies squawk happily away
The sun on my back makes me want to stay
Walking to the rock face broken on the gorge face
Two wallabies look our way and away they race
A creek flows through glistening in the sun
The day exploring is heaven easily done.
© Paul Warren Poetry
All you can eat Stellar Buffet
Location: Lumera 3 in the Andromeda Galaxy
Sector: 377.21
Come all or come one
But don’t forget your ticket stub
The only place in our Galaxy
You can get Klingon grub
We have Vulcans to serve you
If you want, yes with a tray
We have the latest replicators
So you eat hyper hardy all day
The Borg will defend you
With “Q” as our master cook
The Ferengi will take your payment
While the Romulans give you a dirty look
So come one or come all
To The Galactic Gorge your Stellar buffet
Soon to be opening in
The Galaxy called the Milky Way.
Sept.07.2016
My imaginary restaurant - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
The Cliffs and The Gorge.
Chance upon chance-- lover to lover,
The truest love discarded—lost romance,
Never either again found another
Two seek the self-same love forever asunder
The hollow hearts hath much pain,
Never again, never again, to replace the crossed-star love flame
And in the weening half-full hearts replaced,
A great black chasm carved worn from the scars remaining,
Like a valley between peaks, cliffs for eternity refraining
But for infinity the heart but holds the one true face
One true soul, and the loss builds anger inky, black as coal
And slaves to fates goal, mortals’ love never enough
And in its seeming, seething hatred lurks in the heart of unrequited love.
All yours, God said, eyes sweeping
Over an expanse of lush greenery across
A wide, deep gorge. A rolling carpet
Of lotus and daffodils in the shade
Of hillocks--juts of jumbled winking rocks.
All mine! ... Across this gorge! I mumbled.
How? ... I should need some help!
Reason said, I can't help.
Wisdom said, Neither can I.
Eyes squinted. I won't dare.
My heart throbbed, set on the rocks,
The treasures beneath the hills,
The lush garden sunning fresh bloom.
The gorge! The wide, deep gorge!
I must possess the land. Yes ... I must.
Then, faith whispered, I will help you.
I jerked. My eyes bulged. How? ...
Grasp the rope! A swing takes you there.
The rope! A swing! ... Grasp the rope!
Faith smiled. Yes ... His word.
Grand Canyon and Giant Gorge
Met nature who was trying to forge
A giant, great, gargantuan gorge
Which to do did take many years
And raindrops that appeared like tears.
Water ran continuously and rampantly
As if sounds of music in a symphony
Each instrument with a sound of its own
Might be stringed or by one that was blown.
When I hear nature her always like to greet
Music can be compared to Grand Canyon Suite
And will go back to listen to her everyday
Can feel her sensations from miles away.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Soldier
www.story-telling-around-the-world.com
www.poetrysoup.com
Partnachklamme
The most beautiful place
Above the Bavarian resort town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen,
There winds a country road which leads to the Partnach gorge.
Hikers are passed by less hearty tourists transported in hay wagons.
On the left side of the road, a river can be spotted through the lindens.
The river water looks like it was drawn with aquamarine pastels,
Having been super-oxygenated from the gorge’s rapids and cascades.
Playful locals built miniature dwellings and piers along the banks.
Loggers used to hike up the dangerous gorge to unblock log jams,
So safer paths were tunneled in and along the walls of the gorge.
So many sight-seers used to sneak up the loggers trails for the views,
That logging ceased and the gorge became a tourist destination.
At the mouth of the gorge, a guest house sells carbonated buttermilk,
Weiswurst, and other Bavarian specialties to fortify or refresh.
During the holiday season, pilgrims carefully hike the trails
Carrying torches which reflect from the icicles and frozen walls.
Waterfalls, narrows, bridges, and a logger chapel
All add to the charm of Partnach Gorge.
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