An Ode To Our Hanging Laundry
Like the colorful banners of knights of old
Surrounded by their heralds and mesnie bold,
Our laundry doth wave on the clothes hanging lines
As if it too is meant for heraldic signs.
The socks are displayed like pennoncelle.
All our intimate secrets playful to tell.
Our underwear are our prideful banderole
As if we are knights-errant out on patrol.
Our banner of arms are our shirts hanging free.
They declare our wealthlessness for all to see.
The pants are hung as our heraldic standard.
In them we are wont to go a wee dandered.
Without our clothes hung for all to gaily see
How are we to know who it is that we be?
Augury – 2-20-25 Edward Ibeh – Sponsor; Title Chosen - Augury; Pick a Title No. 49
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Augury
Embers of prophecy rise
In the haunting omens of owls
Divining tea leaves
Heralds speak future through opaque signs
And signals of frantic dogs
Before earth heaves in shock of slip strikes
Or the coming of rainbows
Born from sun and blackness.
Gossamer angels bend over vanishing logic,
Brooding envoys of dark horses
In clouds of fireflies or heresies,
Burned at the stake of mineral, mist or ice.
Messenger, from the mystical, utters the unseen,
The face of mute words, allegories in shrouds
Calling to fabled grails, emerge from mystery.
Heraldic voice stands outside algorithms
Wears a clear cloak named vision or terror
A visage drifting through past or dawn
In images without bones,
Unshakable the slow creeping spice
Built on shape shifting tides
Like mist from cloud castles
Before seeking birth in the hands
Of reality’s fiction.
Under development
Azeur Seme fleur-de-lis, Spencer's chivalry.
Within my soul my hearts sings sonneting
Of Raleigh Medieval poetry, I set sail the seven seas ;
Tis the dance of a B Minor melodic symphony,
The horizon of an adventure awakens in me
Oh how sweet an anthropology gently upon my Ebony and Ivory ,
Azure Seme fleur-de-lis heralds our welcome home
Within my soul I draw near to land ;
Every note my diaries quill penned
Ne er will my adoration fail your fair hand
And the Sun riseth once again upon our welcome home
Oh how sweet an anthropology gently sings in harmony
Azeur Seme fleur-de-lis harks the Angelic symphony;
Sings my heart and my soul together in sychronicity.
Sword of
the noble
With fury
unsheathed
Trumping
dishonor
And knaves
unreprieved
Knighted in
armor
Endowed
from on high
Legend
heraldic
With duty
— reprised
(The New Room: September, 2024)
Trees slowly dance in the warm gentle wind.
Sighing, the breath of the sun bids goodnight again.
Promises of change echo in nature's heraldic beauty.
Gia calms the restless life to rest as it sleeps comfortably.
Longing shadows of the night stir an ancient whispering song.
Night’s life awakens with a magical call knowing it belongs.
Dead life is slowly claimed to fertilize this magnificent earth.
Giving New life nutrients as it draws from this enriched dirt.
Nocturnal animals arise and fly into the cool night.
Fireflies fly with a mesmerizing dance of beautiful light.
Slowly the Red moon rises over the rippling lake.
Bringing forth the reflection of blood in its wake.
Soon it rises high into the night of twinkling stars.
It radiated pure white light to be seen from afar.
Time passes and the life of the night starts to sleep
Sun greets Mother Earth embracing her for his to keep.
Sundial numerals illuminate
Knowing noon narrow shadow arrow strikes
Flicks ‘round corners of maze elaborate
Heraldic daffodil, dormant out psychs
Lion, amber assured stride resolute
Teams beside mine, admires canter cloud bounce
Trembled meshing manes make brushstrokes astute
Abstract turns apparent, rewound amounts
Labyrinth lane secures our fears slumbering
Canary chortle performs audacious
Honey wine celebrates when Summer brings
Walls torched in lofty laughing blazes
Flung flaxen, fertile wheat fields’ wispy waltz
Scorched xanthe seeds multiply dream results
24th July
Yellow Leo
The roundest, orangest, nicest pumpkin I find
In a farmer's field ten miles from town.
Uncarved and free from ghoul's design
with unsaid prayers, I set my pumpkin down.
I set it down in grass in front of a stone.
A granite stone turned in perfect square.
Light's changing now to a dimmer tone.
My tears fall from my empty eyes that stare.
They stare as time passes quickly before my eyes.
The rotting fruit has caved on all four sides.
Hence, heraldic symbol dies
To become slime above where love resides.
Globe spatters, sending forth white pearly seeds
with matted threads. Could this be human brain?
Lunging forth, I trip on rocks and weeds.
My legs move, but I can make no gain.
I look to see what caused my foot to trip.
I see a granite stone much like the same
as my Love's, it ends with letters RIP.
and, 'bove is' -Wife of- and - Oh No - my name.
Death, Drought, Pestilence And Midnight Nightmares
The whitewashed sand, little flowered ocean
The beaming moon splattered its shadows and light
The Gypsie's cried but still gave up their potion
And the angry wolves followed next howling at night
Rain-colored splashes hit and soaked tree tops
The deep dark was split by soft hesitant moon rays
Out in the verdant fields, the blue-fairies' dance stop
Ahead was mass of monsters hidden held at bay
Heraldic stars shown with innocence virginal
Hector had died and Achilles was laid to rest
Here in the blacken real world life was terminal
Both Mark Twain, the gambler, held their cards to their chests.
Infinite shadows wait in the dark underground.
We yet waiting for ours, dared not a single sound.
Robert J. Lindley, Dark sonnet
Sept 3rd, 1972
Immortalized there in the Trevi,
Poseidon and his wondrous steed;
these legendary beasts of the waters
gallop the ocean forever free.
Ancestry of the charmer sea horse
forever pulling a gods’ chariot;
noble they grace heraldic armor,
gallant specters swimming free.
With flailing flukes they do serve,
part fish, part horse mounts of Nereid;
eyes of spirit see the silver chariot,
on the waves of a glistening sea.
Reflected high up in the heavens,
Hippocampi hide among the stars;
for in constellation of Capricornus
these creatures will forever reside.
8-25-2021
August 2021 NA's Poetry Contest
Constance La France
YOUR PERSONAL FAVORITE Contest
Received N/A Judged 8-4-2021
Poets embrace the septic of poetry,
and frighten those who are shameful and ashamed ...
People in daily toil, pathetic practices
find ... how then do not fight against
the stablishment ...!?
Rebel dissatisfied people mix melody
and chaotic music against counterculture ...
Ah! if these people had hopes,
if they didn't have just that media instinct !?
How different could this life be ....!
Let us therefore understand that the sterile
so aseptic,
so amorphous concrete,
heraldic, so hermetic,
nonsense of so narcotic ...
So on the tour, we must subvert life
consciously always and always ...!
In my fantasy zoo of enchantment
Super panther basks in magic moment
exuding scent that creates wonderment
while smiting anxiety’s detriment
toward good health and welfare’s fulfillment.
Roaming to display colorful stature
it boasts elegant heraldic posture
exemplifying courageous gesture
asserting, “Each of us is great creature*;”
let’s show our Sovereign-bestowed feature.”
*1Timothy 4:4 For every creature of God is good...
October 21, 2020
3rd place, "Panther (Legendary Creature)" Premier Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward; judged on 10/22/2020.
Where have all the Poets gone,
has time then captured and slain
Those heraldic writers of messaged truth
—whose shields once bore their names
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Thoughts carried to term,
new words to instill
A message is born,
an infant of will
Its father coarse logic,
its mother the wind
Together they coupled,
a marriage within
Their family heraldic,
with pedigree firm
As libraries tremble,
and sages relearn
All time on the table,
last lie from the beast
This moment a knife
past—future the feast
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)
A rubble in a suitcase can be crushed by the might of ten elephants, sixteen rhino, and ladybird in a purple hat. But never a beetle or a silver snake with googly eyes. The monstrous bellowing can alter the voluminous stripes of even the most simplest of pattern. It is to be derived from a digging motion not built up in brick. The solemn manner of a teaspoon arriving in a bow tie and silky underwear. Packed pecked packing pleasing pleasantly. And the fat parsnip parking a car. Luxurious place. Parchments dancing look. Twelve of them. Grab a milk clay coat and whirl to the aroma of the 909 moons. Cup then. No frog. No slug. No biscuit. No lemon. No fox. And no haha either. Fantastic. Xxxx heraldic crest. Xxxx eradication of sloth balls. *** columnisation z
Though I've yet to behold your lovely face
or hear the voice that softly gives your name,
the thought of you inspires my embrace
of our predestined meeting all the same;
I often imagine your sable image,
and fondly picture a romantic vision
of you—an angel with a noble carriage
and heraldic crest that make her crimson;
I am so enthralled with the thought of you,
that not even the zones of length and time
can halt our meeting when kinship means two,--
I thus love you through this my heartfelt rhyme.
So abide with patience by knowing this,
‘ere long we'll embrace and share all we’ve missed!
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