¦¦¦¦ the wonders I ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ have seen:
the sun, ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ the feathery gold of evening ¦¦¦¦¦¦
the ocean ¦¦¦¦ its vastness, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
its ships, its rocks, its caves, its hopes, its fears,
mysterious, ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ what will be, ¦¦¦ what has been.
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ I write,
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ from ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ night,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ half-discovered ¦¦¦¦¦¦ keeping.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ the ¦¦¦¦¦¦ thought of thee,
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ the wonders ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
(Blackout of To My Brother George by John Keats)
I had to pause reading of a book today;
and why? To let emotion set and tears flow
for such is the power of the word, that they,
who write them so, can make those tears come, and go
that I can actually feel love, and death;
and the hurt so deep it takes away my breath.
I so love that this can happen in my head
under blanket, safe, at home, flashlight, in bed.
I watched a mother bestow her child today
a smart pad, while herself; posted to some "friends";
the child's eyes soon mesmerized by the display
of mindless, useless, unnecessary trends,
eye candy, clickbaited by the age of four
so long dispatched the child's desire to explore,
imagine, so many wonders in her head
under blanket, safe, at home, flashlight, in bed.
IMAGININGS *
a mischievous
appearance
& disconcerting
expressions
undress the night
unconscious smiles
for
every dream
in
uprooted shadows
the day
does not
sleep
in great
weariness
where we
lock ourselves
hidden
softly
in its virtues
upon
in
a
field
of reflections
a
hand
to caresse
&
playful eyes
to
share
their clarity
lids
cast down
trace
temptations
lost
in
the dull
shadowed
skies
of leisure
whede innocence
facez
crippled
torment
in
laughter
wrinkles
OPEN VERSE using spaces&breaks/no grammatical symbols /relying on 'the one breath limitation'/this intuitive cadence permits the 'reader' (reciter)to respond in an interpretative-interplay unique** to the ' happening moment'
Mirror Mirror on the wall disclose what you
discern?
Mirror Mirror on the wall who do you see?
A kind hearted, thoughtful person.
Mirror Mirror on the wall who do you see?
A helpful person
Mirror Mirror on the wall? who do you see a compassionate and eager to uplift person.
Mirror Mirror on the wall do you view one's
natural beauty and grace and outward charm
Mirror Mirror on the wall.
“Green-eyed lady passion lady
Dressed in love she lives for life to be” Sugarloaf
Not wise when very young, I traipsed inside
romantic notions where I played the role
of some young, handsome man’s sweetheart or bride.
Real life I did not know; I had the goal
but not the plan for my achieving it!
How aimlessly I wandered in my dreams -
where roses blossomed! Lacking any grit,
I stumbled into marriage, and it seems
my hopes then vanished, for no more was I
the “green-eyed lady” of the seventies
who listened to her 45’s piled high
yet never took the proper steps to seize
what always she had been daydreaming of -
sweet vagabond imaginings of love.
Sept. 2, 2021
For 'A STRAND (1050)' Poetry Contest
The Poetry of Nothings
By David J Walker
I
Only I know when I am
Not sleeping,
Lost in dreams of those who
Keep talking
keeping my awake alive
With the revisitation's of visions
of yesterdays and today's
and what they say
will be tomorrows
The only way I know to
make them fade into
the gray
is with the white noise writings of
the poetry of nothings
II
The memories are imaginings
They said
Just the flashes translated
In your head
And implanted as thoughts you
May or may not have had
It’s confusing
They said
When you are losing your mind
At least,
That’s the way I remember
The end of our conversation
III
My problem with
Borrowing from the future is
There are only so many hours
In a day on display
And I see no way the hours
I’ve borrowed
Will ever be repaid
IV
Surrendering sleep to
The demands of ideas
Is a bad idea
But the only way I know
To capture the elusive teasing’s
Of the stingy genius we are chasing
But never reaching
And the vanity to cry that
I will sleep when I die
Rather
I will die when I finally
Surrender to sleep
On a quaint country lane, my ”Downward Plod” poem whistled eerily.
Date : Fourth October 2020
Contest : How My First Poem Was Born
Sponsor : JCB BURL
welcome to my universe
welcome to my universe
my world
my inner cosmos
the world according to cosmos
it is a dark and fantastical land
filled with dark dangerous delusions
mad monsters
dark imaginings
things that go bump in the night
wild things that come out at night
haunting my dreams
and my nightmares
it is a world for madmen only
dare to enter
the price of admission
your mind
care to join me
in this dark carnival ride
straight to the bottom
of my personal hell
if not
well I understand
my world is not
for everyone
but if you do come
along for the ride
I guarantee it
You will emerge
On the other side
A different person
Having seen things
That are best unseen
Experiencing life
At its most elemental
And in the end
Becoming me
I drift through the eternities
on the translucent wings of imagination
that form in the mind's body of silence
where I abandon the world
and fall into the flowing stream
that moves through my soul of wonder
contest Stardust
sponsor nette onclaud
6/14/20
When leaves glimmer, I find some way
To dance on tiptoes’ whirled ballet,
Into the prairie, soft the light
As mesmerizing views invite;
Nature’s art weaving hues midair
With fancy blooms dressed, while I share
All wonders of a heart that unfurl,
Such pageant for my inner girl!
In this moment, thrilled eyelids close
Relishing dew, fireflies that pose
On endless trails of humming tones ,
Where magic rune never postpones
My floating gasp as lit hours stand;
Like blue oaks… in tints ever grand
That a dream- world becomes a song,
Here… where imaginings belong!
2/15/2016
For Rob Carmack's Scrwed X1 Contest
Posted 1/29/2016
Barstool Imaginings
A tingling of ice cube melancholy
dissolving in the swirling bourbon
accompanied the vision that he saw
in the opaque distortion of the mirror.
He dared not turn lest she notice his interest.
She moved soundlessly, floating across
the distance, impressing her presence
upon the air. A sensual scorpion sting
had stunned his sensibilities leaving him
in a state of gaping awe. How would he
approach her, what pretense could ignite
a conversation, how foolish would he be
to try? She was walking straight toward
him. He lowered his head, took a swig
of the watery bourbon, raised his head
to find that the mirror wasn’t there..
John G. Lawless
7/27/2015
submitted to – Chilling Twist poetry contest
sponsor – Frank Herrera
When the northern star opens her gauzed veil
On clouds’ ladder, winged pixies arise
Where magic glides like a lucent trail,
A parade I watch with angelic sighs.
Glossy dust bounces on cosmic array
To kindle thrills from a fancy dreamland
As elves gather a rhapsodic play
With choirs stylized by mystical wands.
Jiggling lithe toes beyond stellar frames,
More fays croon in my secret heaven
Till youthful imaginings proclaim;
I become Nyx of this orbit’s glen!
Nyx--Goddess of Night
Mystic Rose's Fantasy Contest
6/27/2015
Mysterious forces gather into the mind
bleeding with excitement ,fragrancing the night.
This is the time of visions sought, dreams refreshed.
Many splendored is this night,the dark flows swiftly.
Find yourself in the arms of imagination and painted glory.
You are the captain of this splendid vessel,onward sail
to anywhere those phantoms of the past can be lost.
Regenerate, rejuvenate,feast on the fruits of a new endeavor.
Sparkle the night sky with a dazzling delivery of words come from the soul.
For far too soon the daylight will beckon and start those logical processes once more.
written by Deb Wilson 1/11/2014
for contest "Into Night's Dwelling"
sponsored by nette onclaud
I see you in my thoughts and dreams
all my intimate imaginings
of our bodies intertwined
your very soul invading mine
I feel your hands upon my skin
the sweat between us is so thin
I try to shake these dreams away
but you enchant my mind each day
a tempting tryst comes to my dreams
all my private intimate imaginings
of our bodies wrapped around each other
imagining you as my lover
Silent and alone
In this island church
With Him, and Her, and Them,
The bowl was boiling.
I had to see the boils to know One
Light, one foot with no feeling,
Immersed in God's great chemistry, as
One heart burns over the legion of
Suffering pirates falling apart
Like the petals of forsaken flowers,
Into my spirit of fire, flaming
My love of people.
Now "blessed with this disease,"
I move the basin aside
with Work beckoning (always and forever)
And make my way towards church doors
Opening myself fully into the light of our days.
The breathe of our pain,
The exhalation of sweet and bitter time.
Amen, I say, to the acts which hang upon grace.
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