Lending eyesight past the retinal lens.
Seeking the sight through
the light of a looking glass.
Our home star shines through the parted clouds lay above.
Dauntless gamut, the drum is destructive by force.
Seeing the colors of healing in perfect tune.
Harbinger night terrified in horrifying hums.
Sat the same way across, open mouth absorbing what she can't.
Long time coming to triumphant horned brass.
Blearing these praises cross simple landscape paintings.
The trill of the ringing without the slightest bit of hearing.
Loathing no other in this decorative world.
Hurling the self down through a whirlwind turmoil.
Cascading down the eye of Neptune.
A resemblance jauntily bouncing, striking true ranging trident as if javelin.
jaunty jack-o-lantern joined
jingly jangly janitors’ July jamboree
jaundiced Jasper, Jack’s jackhammer
juggled and jostled the journey in jovial jollity.
Jovial Jukebox Julep juxtaposed Jasper and Jack’s
jonquils, joining the July Jubilee
Javelin, a jazzy jaybird, jangled Judy’s jaguar,
who jabbered jokingly and jauntily.
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Jovial Dr Jekyll played for juvenile Justice
a just jaspered journey
jokingly jumped a joyride
to juicy jukebox jabbering
in jackal jackboots
from nearby jungle
Dr Jekyll clasped a jackknife eating
jambalaya to justify a
juggled juxtapositional
jurisdiction jamming
as jugular vein jingled jewels
joyfully jauntily jaywalking
to a jay named Jim Jolly !
Onward he jumped to a
Jungian junction
Jupiter jocund watching his
journeying joints
journalese seemed a jibe jig
but neither Jewess, Jesuit
or jeweller jiggled this job
So he jerked his jess
like a jape for Japan
Jejuning onto January for the
next jangle of jasmine
No jellyfish was Dr Jekyll in Jordanian jerkin
though sometimes Mr Hyde
with jeroboam swirling alongside !
Cafe Beignet on eve of Mardi Gras
Fat Tuesday is consuming everyone
New Orleans is magnet, nothing will mar
Their patience rewarded fun has begun.
Astounding parade enjoyed far and wide
Bourbon Street echoes with laughter unfeigned
Colourful costumes flowing like rip-tide
River of creation so unrestrained.
Marvellous memories of the parade
When all were united in sense of fun
Twirling umbrellas so jauntily swayed
Spectacle endless but finally done.
Bourbon Street endured it did survive flood
Colourful Mardi Gras is its life-blood.
O thou the beauteous star of sky!
O thou the tiny beauty Queen!
Thou walk and roam as butterfly
On winding ways ,in meadow green
With thee my soul is intertwine
smile of thine is life of mine
The twinkling stars of thy blue eyes
Reflect the green of grassy mead
Oh thou angeless of far off skies
Venus diamond, ocean bead
I loved so many kids but you!
That live in heart like final beat
With core of my heart I love you
This soul of thine is my heartbeat
O Thou that love the shining moon!
And gaze the stars in yard as stand
And ask that why Can't see at noon
The moon , the star all hand in hand
All stars are yours and yours is moon
Thou art the queen of fairy land
This life of mine is but for thine
These tears of thine are death of mine
Oh wonder I when thou will grow?
May then my eyes thee can not see
In heart of heart I wish that thou
On grave of mine come jauntily
The flowers will bloom the breeze will blow
And star will shine they all in sky
For that soft eve when hence thou come
My soul will said you thence good bye!
Mixed with crimson
and covered with wool.
They receive with hope
the spell of the gospel.
His voice calls with mercy
to devour innocent lambs
waiting jauntily to be sacrificed
on the altar of earth.
Come to me ye labourers
and I will grant you rest
in a place of no return.
One by one,
heads of blessings are counted
and preserved in knackery.
Blood speaks and births
miracles, money and maim-bers
with the seal and smell of death.
Beguiled and bewitched,
they cheer and applaud
to the subtle tongue of their father.
Awaiting the day of reckoning
with their shepherd,
doom calls out to death,
death beckons on the grave
to play and sing
along in high tunes.
It is gratifying that,
Words still have simpler forms,
And feelings still have milder versions.
That seasons still change,
And I get to soak up the sun everyday.
How I know,things most don't,
And jauntily skip the world that don't recognize me.
How I can love,
And know my heart's bigger,
my sky's bigger,
my smile's bigger,
Than those petty bundles of flesh and bones will ever know
The world for me isn't just a place,
It's a mother's love,
A young girl's dreams,
A dead man's wish to be reminisced,
Sweet summer breeze,
A bouquet of tulips,
A child's curiosity,
Not merely a story,an allegory.
It is gratifying that,
Words still have simpler forms,
And feelings still have milder versions.
That seasons still change,
And I get to soak up the sun everyday.
How I know,things most don't,
And jauntily skip the world that don't recognize me.
How I can love,
And know my heart's bigger,
my sky's bigger,
my smile's bigger,
Than those petty bundles of flesh and bones will ever know
The world for me isn't just a place,
It's a mother's love,
A young girl's dreams,
A dead man's wish to be reminisced,
Sweet summer breeze,
A bouquet of tulips,
A child's curiosity,
Not merely a story,an allegory.
It is gratifying that,
Words still have simpler forms,
And feelings still have milder versions.
That seasons still change,
And I get to soak up the sun everyday.
How I know,things most don't,
And jauntily skip the world that don't recognize me.
How I can love,
And know my heart's bigger,
my sky's bigger,
my smile's bigger,
Than those petty bundles of flesh and bones will ever know
The world for me isn't just a place,
It's a mother's love,
A young girl's dreams,
A dead man's wish to be reminisced,
Sweet summer breeze,
A bouquet of tulips,
A child's curiosity,
Not merely a story,an allegory.
All through the last winter
I sat on my own
Playing Cushie Butterfield
On my xylophone
I tried it as a two step
I tried it as waltz
Its not easy on a xylophone
To avoid playing shmaltz
But I got it just perfect
It sounded a treat
So I played it on my xylophone
As I walked down the street
And a busker with some bagpipes
Joined in to play with me
And we played Cushie Butterfield
That busker and me
And folk stood there just clapping
And tapping their feet
And soon there was a party
All down that long street
But it wasn’t for long
Were we on our own
For we soon heard the sound
Of a tenor saxophone
And we all played Cushie Butterfield
And it sounded just great
Then the saxophone player
Was joined by his mate
Who played very jauntily
Casting notes afar
Playing the melody on
His 12 string guitar
And we all played Cushie Butterfield
With verve and good cheer
And oh how we wished
Cushie Butterfield could hear
Cushie Butterfiekd - 19th Century Geordie Folk Song
Feeling of mine towards you
Makes me utter word impromptu
Your cheerful smile is my heart pride
Leaving for a while
My body gets to fragile
The one whom by seeing I'm garbling
In nightmare I'm wondering
Your presence makes heart beat loudly
When I can enjoy with you jauntily
Eagerly waiting for your text
When I will hear your voice then I rest
Feeling of mine is real not fake
My heart want to make manifest
Consider my love, please confess
Fleeting time day and night
Every time you are running in mind
Opportunity to give kisses flying
When you will become mine ?
It is the only time we get to laugh at black
So de rigeur at funerals and stogy old photography.
Take Dixie Land at home in New Orleans
Parading back of happy brass from marble sculpted sepulchers.
A mansion in mirage, a wavy misty rambling of rooms.
Their mirrors: windows to another, conjured world.
An agitated specter's greasy lipstick pleads.
How silly in its backward gibberish.
Flies frozen in some floes of ice cube trays
Or eyeballs docked adrift along a punch bowl rim.
In morgues, contracting muscles practice sitting up.
Fingers twitch impatient to be dressed in Sunday's best.
Around grave yards are cemetery stones
Jauntily askew, a sporty take on plumb
Due to a lack of rebar steel or poured cement.
More foundational than wood and bone alone.
Masks flash from unknown alley ways.
Our innards struggle up inside our throats
Suffocated quiet, still, we ache to catch so thin
A claustrophobic breath to be made so easily afraid.
My boredom stretches like a steel girder across the abyss
to wherever it is that boredom ends.
My dog wines his most insistent whine,
the one that says, “I’m bored too”.
The TV runs, background noise to the dog’s whine.
I sigh and wonder how many more seconds till the page turns.
With a secondhand pet to my dog, I stretch my toes
wondering if a mouse might peek out to pause the gloom.
Dragging slow, the dishwasher clanks it’s finished clank
telling me it’s time to unload the heard off it’s back.
I’m not that bored, I lean back in my chair
and wait for my muse to come jauntily to my screen.
Alabaster annoyance
Blatantly breathes bulbous brightness
Cadaverous comedy caring
Daintily during delicate delivery
Exciting elderly enigma.
Furious fiery feeler
Gregariously greets
High-handed hustler
Ignoring imaginative immediates
Jauntily jeering judiciously.
Kangaroo kisses kibitzes
Leaving luxurious loners
Merrily masticating mincemeat.
Never-do-wells needing knowledge
Ostentatiously officiate on orange orangutans.
Precariously polite Pomeranians
Quietly quiz querulous quoters
Reposing rapidly ruining
Still sassy strenuous strikers
Turning toward Tuesday tournaments.
Understandably unprecedented underlings
Vindicate vicious vagrants
While wishing waxy widows would
‘xpect ‘xciting ‘xacting ‘xtras.
Youngish yellow yowls yipping
Zipping zany zebras’ zealous zero zone.
I am in my recliner grasp book in hand-
I live to read my eyes jauntily bound blinks opens shuts.
My thought are on verse.
But what comes first.
A yawn from my inners to my throat.
Witnessing now attempts to yawn, sleep in chair look, I drop my book...
8/18/19
Life Poetry Contest
Imagism poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Ironic Zink
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