D’sire pools of blue, or are they gray.
Lightweight sweater of steel and rain.
The zephyr sheets in windblown play.
D’sire pools of blue, or are they gray.
Chaos kaboom, lightning bouquet;
The rocking boat cannot explain.
D’sire pools of blue, or are they gray.
Lightweight sweater of steel and rain.
Shade for a book
underneath the lifeguard’s stand,
lightweight umbrella.
lovely lithe lightweight lilliputian Lily
loaded lazy lethargic lounging lizards
likely lightsome live-wires lingering
in lap of Louisianan lizard lane
Kids with their families walking up and down the hill, dogs barking, cars going up and down past our home, hopscotch chalked into the sidewalk, come on you know you want to get it a whirl.
Kids gather at the bus stop, trying to stay warm in the cool autumn breeze, dancing and talking amongst their parents neighborhood friends, thus is what I see each day outside my window.
Birds squirrels, even a red fox are the many sights I see on a daily basis, sounds of birds pecking on our roof, fall is here, so many colors of yellow and red leaves brighten up the night trees across the street.
A swift fall cool breeze, the trees branches Dance in unison, a lightweight coat you might need as you step out to take a walk, smells of pine cones, hot apple cider from angel food, something sweet..
A monarch butterfly just landed on my native milkweed plant, its wings of red and orange open wide to reveal is a girl, praying she leaves a few eggs behind.
Evening has come, as the golden sun has begun to set, it lowers ever so so slowly, as not in a hurry, the moon lights up the sky, another sky has ended, perhaps tomorrow will be the same.
A tree twinkles one summer night
Fireflies turn on the evening light
Without sorrows, without wrinkles
One summer night, a tree twinkles
The flashes rule the dark shadows
Without wrinkles, without sorrows
Delightful view, distant from fuel
The dark shadows, the flashes rule
In gentle air, away from blue
Distant from fuel, delightful view
These bugs display lightning fun flare
Away from blue in gentle air
Lightweight lanterns, near quiet quay
Lightning fun flare, these bugs display
Spark ignited as mangrove burns
Near quiet quay, lightweight lanterns
Pensee poetry form sort of
metal
lightweight silver
creeps up fingers, toes, legs, hands
early in the morn while writing
metal seizes poem's heart
A deep sigh before the swim,
the silent scream of sunny depths.
Lightweight where dusk and dark dance
and the world above is a remote dream.
Calmness, still embracing.
Name of Contest: Color My Mood Poetry Contest
Date posted: May 26, 2025
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
“Much Ado About Nothing”
Romeo’s love doesn’t fall through,
As Tybalt piques his fancy too.
And Juliet,
Not in love yet
Chills out on Tinder and Temu.
William, don’t mind the premise pick,
The rhymes have moved on so to speak;
Short and lightweight -
It’s shooting straight,
Not a sonnet, a limerick.
No tragic twists, no tricksy lies,
No fam’ly feuds to dramatize.
It might be viewed
Vulgar and lewd -
But no one kills and no one dies!
M4
Lightweight—
“You are so skinny, Trainee!
You’ll never be a soldier.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, tightly,
each word heavier than steel.
Magazine-fed—
“You need to eat something, son.
He is gone, but you’re still here.”
My face is pale, drained of color.
Each memory chambers in.
Gas-operated—
“Soldier, what the hell is that?
Can’t you even shoot your gun?”
My fingers tremble, shaking,
pistons locked in helpless shame.
Shoulder-fired—
“Shoot back, god damn it! Shoot back!”
The weight of orders holds me down.
My finger pulls the trigger.
The recoil crushes into me.
Weapon—
I squeeze my eyes shut, tightly.
My face is pale, drained of color.
My fingers tremble, shaking .
My finger pulls the trigger.
i was chosen for the next moon landing
and my co-passengers arrived at the meeting
in lightweight space suits
but i wore my black leather jacket
to show my contempt for space
i speak to anyone in similar attire
in supermarket queues i've jumped
to tell a co-customer i like that
the world beard and moustache championships were postponed
due to the covid-19 pandemic
tailored jackets are in
and jacket potatoes are overrated
can't wear a fedora 'til your seventies; i
am the Fonz jumping sharks on water skis
in my leather jacket
but i'll tell you who's not cool -
the flapjack octopus
i took the kids to a magic show
i wore it there;
to show my contempt for fun
Touched by the sweet lips of the wind
Float away from misery and the doubtful world
From cradle to grave, back to nature's primeval days
Above the dust of the earth, a weightless state
With grateful heart, but weeping eyes
Changing fates, that found the world so merciless
No wreath of soft down or bay leaves to tie
Soar freely on ambitious lightweight wings
Search here and there, high and low - in wrath and passion
The palm of honor stands strong, free, brave and proud
Reborn from pink marble chamber, the child of love
A fresh morning floods, with sparkling champagne sun
The glow changes in the pearl, brought the mercy back
The wings of the pigeons intertwined
Papery feathers strain to take wing.
Frills ruffle, mythic masks gnash at the air
beautifully belligerent.
Plucked, they dally daily
between the surfaces of legend,
and the finery of a silk-stockinged
sentience.
Diaphanous stems are necks-laced
below an open-mouth in full quaff
pastel beaks
revealing a mute floral clamor.
Flame refined dragon-hearted blooms
they consume the oxygen of our
domestic awe. Pepper us with a
salty serpent presence.
Lightweight and splashily bearded
we see them gambol
on the tippy-toe of a metaphor.
When within a circle of sunlight
we place them,
they may fire-dance
with a scolding snippiness
goading all and sundry
with a dragons gimlet gaze.
Giant ornaments like tumbleweeds, like eye popping bubbles, boisterously released in London streets. Like giant lightweight bowling balls that cavort out of their lanes. The breeze plays volleyball, indeterminate who’s winning. The kids’ winning for sure. Follow the bouncing baubles, unravelling revelation of holiday spirit. Celebration in the streets off to a fa-la-la start.
If this was an episodic Doctor Who, those orbs would mean trouble’s steamrolling in. The tardis’ on high alert. It’s always London! The doctor’s enigmatic scrutiny of exploding rounds and Santas showing up. They’ve weapons too. Watch out! Don’t worry! The Doctor will save you.
11/3/2022
I am about as together as a goose’s loose feathers.
However, sadly that means I’m so lightweight I can get carried away.
I am as well-assembled as blocks that are oh so easily connected.
However, sadly that means it’s all too easy for me to fall to pieces.
As long as we keep our eyes closed,
We can sneak through the crack
Of perpetual motion in space and time,
To find the unique crystal
Made of a trillion magnon quasiparticles,
Whose impossible existence
Makes us almost believe in miracles.
Trillion: a million million (1,000,000,000,000 or 1012)
Magnon: a movement of the electrons' spin structure in a magnetic material.
Quasiparticle: an object that is similar to a particle, but does not meet the full criteria of a particle (a particle is a piece of matter smaller than an atom such as an electron or a proton).
Inspired by "Two Time Crystals Have Been Successfully Linked Together For The First Time," MICHELLE STARR in Science Alert, 2 JUNE 2022
Image: Could quasiparticles called magnons unmask a lightweight dark matter particle? livescience.com
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