Am I not you
the reflection
of your colors
in my water
as you dance
in a garden
veiled by night
where the flowers
have no odor
and are bright
fireflies
of neon
lights
and you say it’s me
crimson stained
by the blood
you have shed
greyed by tears
of the innocent
you misled
as you sparkle
in your stolen
golden wealth
I the hypocrite
the murderer
the thief
a mirage
water colored
of your desert
left unwashed
by God's grace
mercy unasked
in your eyes
you stay perfect
I the villain
shadow
unwanted
reflection
of your mind
My dear flower girl
You’ve lost your touch,
Your petals are greyed
Your smile is stitched
My dear flower girl
A painted rose of mine
Though the bells may ring
Pray, sing not
Along with the broken chime
My dear flower girl
Might I lull you to slumber
As your hands untie
As you forget about your encumber
How can a heart still beat
A hand still touch
A girl still dream
Once she is torn to shreds
And bound about her broken bed
How can a smile still stay
When nothing then is here today
My child, my dear, my flower girl
Mine heart is torn for you
My pearl
Leashed to your dusk,
I journey with you into your night.
I see the monsters you fight,
and I understand the rhythm of your evenings.
I journey with you to the field at twilight,
Where you sing spiritual songs.
We enter an ethereal realm,
a place where broken wings are mended.
We walk by the shore in the twilight glow,
your smile like a thousand watts brightening a dark alley.
My tortured mind finds calmness,
and my troubled heart emerges from the depths of darkness.
I will find you beyond the stars,
when time has greyed us,
when we’re separated at the twilight of days,
Becoming bodies of rays.
June 20, 2026.
Lowered shades
on searching eyes
blue sky greyed
by clouded mind
reliving segment
uncurved by life
fleeting joy
of passerby smile
immersing self
in pool of regrets
tears undried
words unsaid
waves of mind
resurfacing rancor
memory fragments
not circled by time
grace blown ashes
uncovering fire
wiping tears dry
warming heart's ice
igniting soul
to reflect God's light
pulling ego reins
from past to now
on saddle of present
Spirit guided
chiming joy
of unfolding life
rainbow of flowers
birds' new arrival
heart overflowing
sweetness of pardon
obsession with past
like dew in the sky
soul and body
in unison
magnetized
spinning around
truth
of cycling life
with hope of ice tears
sparkling to smiles
Ninth Place Winner- Brian Stand: Premiere Contest 1475-5/26/26
Here comes —
slowly— the greyed fitness with heavy,
clasping hands, that tie up
limbs with the flayed string of life,
in which we build gingerly,
toddle for the last time,
and climb stairs more with our breaths
than with our senses.
I’m a nice person
I’d help someone if they fell on the street
I’ve always given directions when asked
Of course I smile at strangers, it’s just polite
What do you mean a hospital was bombed today?
Anyway, my favourite artist just released a new album
I know she pollutes with her private jet but… she’s a feminist
I just don’t like to make waves, I’m a nice person
What do you mean kids were dragged from their homes and zip tied?
And I’ve heard we’re supposed to boycott or something
But I just can’t live without my coffee
And I don’t really understand why anyway
It was on the news but I turned it off, it’s just too sad
I have to protect my peace
What do you mean 72,000 confirmed dead in two years?
What do you mean 7,000 books banned in the world’s freest country?
What do you mean they’ve taken women’s ability to speak?
…
I woke up today and my fingers were wrinkled
My joints ached, my hair greyed
Faces sat below me, children, grandchildren
They asked what I did
How I helped
I don’t like to make waves
I’m a nice person
I viewed an ocean that I could not reach.
Water beckoned me but my path was blocked.
The rocky boulders protected the beach,
Leaving me a glimpse from my window panes.
The rocks seemed to smile at me whom they mocked,
And when the clouds greyed, it gave me remorse
That my travels were stopped by rock's cruel chains,
And I chose instead to redraw my course.
I moved from my home by sea and by beach.
Good-bye to the ocean that I couldn't reach.
Every moment we have, it’s not ours to idle away,
It’s not ours to cosy in slumber,
The night is not faceless,
And the day is not merely a superficial series of events.
We walk through a door leading to others connected in time,
Mystery intertwines with these connections,
We search for answers that plunge us deeper into the mystery’s wormhole,
Each piece leads to the next, but we’re yet to complete the puzzle.
Hope is the lamp that brightens our paths in the stygian night,
When the moon and stars are cocooned in layers of darkness,
When the susurration of the rivers plucks on the strings of melancholy,
And an oppressive heaviness obstructs the redemption light.
Every moment we have is ours to pursue our purpose,
Summon the elements to unveil the day’s splendour,
Uncover the treasures hidden in the night’s chamber,
Find guidance in the stillness of our souls,
Until we’re greyed and frayed by time.
May 7, 2025.
Those greyed pink strands
That trickle with a crackle
As neurons motor there their weigh
That Brian that named itself
I gave the voices in my head their own costumes
Some synapses may have snap
…………………………..………p
…………………………………..e
…………………………………..d
Some people don’t have an inner voice
I think I got their share
Some just grunt
Not the day to ask how I am
Some whisper tirades of alarms
Some plot within
while chances of escape are slim
They all came from planets
No earthlings
Scarred Wars
Things Han could have responded….
Me and Luke are a thing
Once you go Chewie…
Get your stuff outta of the falcon
You snogged your brother
I am doing this to get away from you, you nutter
My name is Indiana
Something something
this comes way.
he paused
pushing himself on the soft leather
shaped by his years
-Happy
his eyes beaming
below the arced trellises of his greyed out eyebrows
Dion rested at his grandfathers feet
His face in a contortion of bewilderment
-No, I mean as a job
The old man grasped a freshly iced can of
some sugar filled gloop
and poured it between them both
He gave a chuckle
disguising it as a cough
as the child held the glasses together to better measure the gloop
before placing one in his grandfathers hand
The giant princes and 7 people doesn’t have the same ring
-Okay what about Grumpy
pulling a fake gurn to his face
the tickle of his beard causing him to sneeze to easily
Dion yawned his grandfather wiping the sleep peadrops from his eye
Bashfully I must leave
but my grate NESS
Is documented
They seem to disappear,
They hide somewhere,
Somewhere in the light,
Somewhere beyond sight.
They seem to be lost in view,
Gone with time,
Oh, how moments are lost in clime,
Kept in the drawers of memory.
Our days go on a course,
We look into the mirror and see we’re greyed,
Our searching hearts become dismayed,
We wish we could stay away from the hands of the ageing clock.
The tender hands we held find a place for their feet,
They blossom to occupy their rooms,
We gradually become a shadow,
We see beyond the meadow.
September 11, 2024.
Turning my orange days grey, that’s what you do.
Flicking my sun over to a moon, like in a child’s picture.
And you make it cold. I need a blanket made of foil.
like the stuff you’d wear around your head.
Because you must be signalling other planets.
Because you can’t handle things.
You take my sun, stars and whole galaxy.
Because you need love so you engulf my all.
While I’m sitting here in a kitchen of still life.
In a fruit bowl, in a glass bowl. My orange greyed with you by my side.
We judge no one simply because
there’s no one here and hence no cause,
to assign an ethic value,
on shifting hues as they renew,
save when fellow souls are caused harm,
whereupon with love we disarm,
ignorance in those who have strayed
from truth and hence their auras greyed,
a fault, that’s easily set right,
seeing in all hearts, God’s light bright.
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
Shaking his head, following her voice as it trailed
He smiles to himself, ’give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
It was love at first sight, the surround greyed and paled
Spotting this electric eccentric, dancing in the rain
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
As time flowed by, he knew how they’d not failed
He is her best friend through all; hysterical laughter to anguish and pain
He smiles to himself, ‘give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
She loves him wholehearted, though never been veiled
On the news of their daughter, he’d tried proposing, in vain
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
Now soo much older, their matured rich love haled
She is both bubbly and light, and a grumpy old pain
He smiles to himself, “give it time’, hew knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
She turns to face him, happy laughter regaled
He takes her hand, “So about that sword cane…”
“Oh that ship has sailed..”
He smiles to himself, ‘give it time’, he knew, rays of Joy crack through disdain
Contest: Third-Person Villanelle Poetry Contest
Hosted by: L.Milton Hankins
Date: 23.11.2022
Three-Kolored Ku (Now 10)
1. bluebird’s ear’s to ground –
pink collared worm (casts below)
now won’t grace black hook
2. blue days can have clouds,
yellow sun bursts pierce grey clouds -
rainbow’s arc mocks smile?
3. girls pink with envy,
boys made blue by sexist roles -
‘his story’ just black
4. greyed out politics –
blue and red (views, poop) both suspect
in the fog of war
5. red sunsets portend
dawn’s blue skies to those caring –
black thoughts rarely float
6. pumpkin’s orange loves
tomato’s ripened redness – light’s
short, black cat nights stretch
7. fall topples most green,
revealing vibrant colors -
reds, yellows – drab wins
8. poetry’s greenest
when planted fields change color -
red blood fades to black
9. green planet’s seasons,
the ocean’s blue expanses,
the earth’s spine - beached white
10. time’s future’s more dark
man’s ‘black’ and ‘white’ aren’t colors (1)
Grace – red, blood-cured wood?
Krakatoa Kritic #007
October 29, 2022
Poet's Notes:
(1) Black is the absence of light, hence no color at all.
White is a combination of all colors, so no color also.
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