It's true things are hard to unfix
Nature's playing games and dirty tricks
Instead of games
Gonna fan the flames
Until winter and spring intermix
I know a little girl who loves Legos bricks,
she will play for hours and intermix;
she has a collection of Pet Friends sets,
that for birthdays and Christmas she gets.
She will mix Vet Clinic, Cat Hotel and just play,
I think she will be a vet- she loves Pet Adoption Cafe;
a mish-mash of assorted Legos animal's and friend's,
and all the other delightful odds and ends.
On building a scene she will transfix,
I think it is creative and think its great she can mix;
Dog Rescue, Pet Day Care, and Cat Grooming sets,
I will keep getting her more with no regrets.
I love to see what she has created.
and how her imagination has been translated;
there is no limit to her building scenes;
and I predict she will play with Legos into her teens.
QUINTESSENCE
an absence
of
fervent
intensity
in miniature
with
infinite
equivocation
an ambiance
of impressioned
sensations
a resurgence
of an elide
intermix
apparently
remote
from
abiding concern
obliquely
descended into
a preoccupation
with the sensual
such
eloquent
perfection to
enlighten
the fusion
of continuity
with cohesion
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
"Oh' What should I call you
my darlings letters gather
O'together with all of you
sisters and brothers what
what is and what are that
So the shape of things to
O'Come words rhyming in
designing to make a poem
So in this chosen verse this
form first a poem of words
structure patterns waves
-strictest rule links rhythm
rhyme what is poetry form
I am a blank line of precise
meter that does not rhyme
O' poetic thought that I am
rhymed poetry I am but of a
A Free Verse sometimes full
So of Epicsa Narrative poem
Might be Haiku Pastoral poet
Master rhyme and schemes
So words come off the paper
The form of the letters word
O'so intermix affix rhyming nix
Oh! darling forms me a poem..
--Read on as I drop this Rhyme
Words inspiring spiraling down"
3/5/22
For Brian Strand Form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
A global index,
strive to intermix
with the universe
and it’s creator,
find a point of view
Cosmic order
inspired journey
discovering
questions of faith
Doomsayers
predicts man
in ‘Star ships’
invades
God’s own
Help!
© Harry J Horsman 2019
Would you dance
if the music played long and loud enough?
Take my hand and spin round the floor
looking back at life experiences excited and bored,
short, happy, sad and all too brief,
time steals away moments like a thief
but you and I, we could dance
sway and swirl, waltz in the dreams of the world
for hope and peace, common sense emptied of all grief;
would you dance
take away the postulating circumstance
of who, how and why we are
content in these moments beneath the stars;
smile, laugh, weep tears of joy
trip the light fantastic with Helen of Troy
or your favored prince charming toy;
You could dance
dream the dreams of youth long lost
pay the price of living life's easy choice
or steel your spirit, heart and soul
to forage through the life you know
with me and our love that grows
as time and these melodies begin to slow.
In the end, when all efforts seem to intermix
woud you dance in the last hours that tick
on the clock and final two step dance oblique
when life and love are individually unique;
take me body, hold it tight to his or hers
and lightly trace the memories explored
while in the dance. I am forever yours.
Cream colored tulips and satin red roses
intermix fluid in the garden.
One flower fades away as another takes it place,
like croci giving in to daffodils.
Marsh daisies and wild violets blend between the hosta
and minimize the scent full of lily of the valley.
A lone white iris bloomed today, stunting the green of others
holding high its flowered head above the may-apples.
At last the hint of peeking gladiolas rise,
red and pale green above the ground.
Yellow green eunonymus glow lime green in the sun
vibrant and colorful around the bark of an old broken oak.
Wild mustard rises and bloom in clumps
yielding dainty bouquets of delicate white florets.
With this early spring that lingers dry and warm
everything will bloom before its time.
free verse
Artist, Susan Boulet
makes the connection between
observation and application.
Through figures of fantasy
she creates a spirit of solitude.
Heads and hands
intermix thoughts and practice
capturing the visage of the heart.
Images juxtaposed -
her genius is pictorial haiku.
May she rest in the peace
she has bequeathed to us.
Thinking about tattooing
"noitatneserP erocnE"
across my back.
Install mirrors on the
bedroom ceiling
so she sees it spelled
correctly as I pray for her
only stopping when
Hallelujah reverberates
down our halls.
Think I'll remove my filter
Let her see my censorship
Picturing a blurred spot
below my abdomen
intermix it with bleeps
followed by adjectives that
proceed her name.
Tonight I won't refrain
driving her insane
exposing raw thoughts
that I've kept secret
Make her beg for silence.
Auditory overload
Can I get a "shut the hell up
and beat it up Daddy" moment
And I be quiet when she
comes around, but
when she's in the that
paralyzed prognosis
I be talking again.
Sometimes I think I should
keep thoughts to self
but tonight, self, thought,
and her will come together
peaceably without any resisting.
There is a blurred brumous haze.
Afloat upon a invigorating mourning.
Alive with the aroma of petrol and
cigarette smoke.
The glass somewhat stained with a rich
smoky grey.
Raindrops like perspiration on a mother in childbirth.
A broken window wiper beats a jungle beat.
Across the clammy windshield.
Harsh noises of horns honking.
Intermix with the wiper blades.
To make a cruel early mourning remix.
Of yesterdays one hit wonder on the radio.
I am not asleep nor am I fully awake.
For my eyes are as heavy as the static rain.
I am blinded by the oncoming onslaught of
lights and traffic.
Like a metal stampede rushing at me.
As if i'm a capeless matador.