She who perceived what dusky tones to lyric
visions and visitations drifting sea beats
her obsidian deep in bowels of rock
mermen watching neat
River spirit maidens ask freedom's turquoise
within midnight's black grimace God gleams white light
against rainfall sky her fair deploy was
Love's only employ
Sappho's obsidian dust incubating
on Earth ~ Aphrodite's coal its sound inert
no beetles can roam its aura's fast converts
implacable hurts —
Muse awaited no crown pharoah’s lips fleshy
in cosmic time concept will bell excell
grecian pudding spiced hot on cypress table
obsidian spell
Soft dew drops upon unbound black hair curling
sprinkling coloured leaves of body's flesh tree
jet night pale blossoms wrapping barefeet pitch
woman cracked stone itch …
Amidst obsidian leaking indigo
Sappho's loamy dream creating blackout moon
sleepy swoons across mossy floor encircle
legs entwine quirkle —
Hierophants composed illusion stories
she did not believe, dark related truth’s scout
as sure as fire heats every sunset closing
Sappho’s stone reigns clout ~
Aridisol
-----------------------
-----------------------
Human emotion
the exploration of
a
the underlain
topsoils of
clayey deposits
a camera merley captures it's sight
loamy the interconnectedness
beneath our feet
perfection in human sight
the depths of the alluvial outwash
pretty in every measure
quarts agate and gems
the treasures of a cobbled assortment
the perfections I marveled at the
crown jewel of the bunch
meditating on the dirt beneath our feet
---------------------------------------------
Uhm, uh, ooh, auh, ooh
and Mmmmm,auh,ooh!
her sandles were full of clay and sand
she sat to enjoy agave edible flowers and stalks
---------------------------------------------
spine not straight
had to wait
for fertiliser from miser
was it that expansionism
took lubricating oil
from loamy soil ?
arms to be palms
legs walking eggs
buckled, I shovel
___________________
Allpoetry Contest Honorable Winner
April 26
Prompt : " In the month of harvest.. I still feel half grown.."
bells tinkle gently
I’m trapped in a cup
watching cows in spring
loamy Earth beneath
ceramic walls crack
moo-ing opens base
______________________
Contest : Standard : Trapped in a Tableau
Sponsor : Nette Onclaud
Placed : 4th : March 26
My hands in the autoclave
It is no disaster
No mistake
Complete sterilization
Not quite yet cremation
Free of my predation
I crawl through a cavernous cave
Its wet walls perspiring
Nooks like glands
Gulleted by the monster
Steep feet without falter
Skull space I foster
I lay in a shallow grave
No need for depth
In this loamy cradle
No longer death I seek
But whatever keeps me weak
Hyphae drink the fluid I leak
Protected; not me, but you
Dissected; they bore me through
An ending to my disgrace
Put me in my place
94.
My 21st Leaf
Picked thee from root stock
Like a mini rock
That's rough and dusty
Brown, pungeant, spicy
Wew! It's “ginger” leaf!
Peasant Garduque
No other than me
Planted by my hands
Arancillo lands
A crop squatter too
First day of last year
I planted it there
The last time I saw
Only few leaves grow
One Twenty-Six Twelve
Carved fish pond paddy
Western side levee
Inside a plant box
Black, loamy soil stocks
Weeds and dirt surround
It's first time to see
Leaves of crop by me
First time this year
Visit fish pond near
First time write so late!
-02/01/2012
(Dumarao)
*My Toladas Collection
fairy ring beckoned with fallen oaks the seat
she loosened blond hair for all elves to see
dancing in a circle around one rock deep
toadstools were there numerous with buzzing bees
owl hooted deep, arriving late afternoon
in distance farmhouse empty, sported balloons
spiders and grasshoppers smashed cymbals and drums
vineyard workers sleepily dreamily hummed
fat strawberries blood red on juicy offer
down she descended into a loamy hole
to examine nourishing cocoa coffers
then taste spiced cherry brandy alongside moles
her pink petalled dress became nastily soiled
she lost her wide crimson hat to earthworms coiled
tunnels were decorated with soft chestnuts
ladybugs slowly shopped for investment huts
below she found busy beetles, flora seeds
grey weevils digging into sour rotting leaves
roots of varying colours with buried beads
entangled were elf lovers like naughty thieves
teasingly were filled with the fruity brandy
many were heady drunk they became angry
she judiciously spotted coloured bangles
happily returned to own tree bespangled !
**
I met angels on Ormand Beach. It was at the end of a long week and a large drink we’d called Screaming Jesus—vodka, grape soda, and stalks of rosemary. My husband and I were dug in near a sandcastle collapsing—our marriage spread as thin as sunscreen, when legions of seraphim appeared between the loamy, gray-brown waves. They murmured phrases neither of us understood—still don't. But we joke about how much DNA we left in that hotel room, the sun-blistered skins we shed, our discarded selves hoovered up by housekeeping, buried in an anonymous Florida landfill. Believe me, or don’t, I’ll never forget the sage of those graygolden halos—rusted-silver carabiners secured to spikes, driven into the hands of heaven.
creeping thyme
perennial landscape—
innocent as grass
[Poet’s Note : the fourth verse of this cinquain was written for ‘Scents of Autumn’ contest sponsored by JCB Brul, already posted on this pg.]
________________________________________
shiver
woollen scarf black
earth in cold dreamland sleeps
brooding we strengthen barriers
wild winds
awake !
yolk bursts a beak
faint gardenia sweet
freshly cut grass, lips open wide
buds sleek
bright blue
cool linen new
litchi ice-cream dripping down throat
sun laughs loud
hot lot
mellow
maturation
cinnamon floats woody
musky flesh loamy depths spice-wise
mushrooms
cycles
forever turn
seasons speak singularly
winter spring summer autumn rings
bring zings
[JCB Brul Contest : Scents of Autumn
FIRST PLACING : Standard Contest ]
mellow
maturation
cinnamon floats woody
musky flesh loamy depths spice-wise
mushrooms
•••
PURPLE
Purple my soft moss seat in paradise
amethyst crown purple so wise
High Priestess purpled silken silent and bold
has no need to compete with cool
Countess whose court is neat
but oh so cold !
What a sweet treat to see
ripe ripple granadilla purpled fall from tree
she made an indigo way from leafy branch
to loamy Earth to juicy kiss my feet
landing on delicate fairy roots with a scarlet beat
Purple irises erect rows in park holler
such powerful maidens compete not for dollars chased by bookie rookie scholars who fail
to see abundance in nature’s holy colour
divinely composed with innocent hues of valour
How humans sniffle and snuffle when they
seek lilac happiness in ludicrous money
all they need do is close their eyes to
visualise dining on purple aubergine,
mauve butter bean laced with dripping honey
in violet chameleon coves hosting bunnies
watching a shimmering sunset
holy purple burble !
Beneath a callused skin of light
the hunched and mustered
clap a prayer between a leaking sight.
It is the earth that mourns itself,
whether baldly thrown or loamy laid
the silent soil repaints its sullied shrouds
far beyond any atoning sorrow,
or cooling heart.
It is none but a laboring pity
to lay down the past
as deep as a weeping sky allows
or raise a hand only to tamp down
a new-turned mound.
Restless are the skewing worms
ever churning a blood-born mud,
eyeless they cover the once begotten,
cloak a hard pressed present and loss.
as the missing
deafly retreat beyond our ken.
Hear now the trilling birds,
how they far-fling their buoyant hymns,
see how they hop between their own bones.
Heaven's the goal
He purifies my soul
And I lives by His quotes
Every moment I go down
I quickly arose
I'm heading to the post man
I don't want to lose
And faith envelopes
Thus I dream big
I'm grateful for His fig tree
that shades me from the drought heat
reaping the fruits the breeze flings
and replanting the seedlings
for abundance of riches
my soil is loamy
but the enemy
always sows his weed in
so much struggle and strife
but I rise and fight
won't stop searching for the light
in the darkest of the night
travel any kilometer,
no matter what's the height
my destination is blissful
and it's bright
In this journey of life
the storm builds my soul
I'm sailing with the Christ
obviously not alone
hardship is sinking
I'm submarined in the truth
pour out my heart in prayer,
I'm sipping fulfillment's juice
Blinking away the last vestiges of slumber,
the cub takes a few tentative steps,
her paws sinking into the soft,
loamy soil.
With each cautious movement,
she pauses,
her small nose twitching,
as she samples the myriad of scents,
that permeate the forest.
The world beyond the den,
is a wondrous tapestry of sights,
sounds, and sensations,
and the cub's dark eyes shine with a curious, innocent wonder.
Emboldened by the familiar surroundings,
the cub ventures a bit farther,
her gaze fixed on a butterfly that dances,
just out of reach.
She crouches low,
her hindquarters wiggling in anticipation,
before springing forward in a clumsy leap,
her paws kicking up a flurry of debris.
The butterfly evades her grasp,
but the cub's joyful grunts echo,
through the tranquil forest,
a scene to her unbridled enthusiasm.
First buds emerge in velvet cocoons
As dank, dark mornings transform
Into frost clad, bright, clean-aired dawns.
Grass laden heavy with dew,
Nectar of nature to sustain awakening creatures.
From deepest winter slumbers,
To drink deep the anticipation held in each drop.
Static in the air, in our hair, as crunched grasses
Make way for warming days, milky moons,
And pearlescent sun shards melting
The cold of winter soil.
Grass, long since recoiled after long summer
Parching, burnt and bruised,
Now tender and sweet, shoots pushing
Up through the loamy layers of frost bitten ground.
The scents of spring, almost imperceptible
Yet nonetheless I feel them set my belly to flight
The excitement for some unknown event,
As though a celebratory feast,
Honoured to be invited to.
Tingling in extremities, no longer from cold
But now in joy, in pleasure,
In the fruitfulness we know to come to pass,
When spring finally announces her arrival
Once more.
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