Long Abrupt Poems
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It is so… I mean,
How unbearable the rake of longing
while the agony from riding this carriage
stalls to meet the unknown...
a finality abrupt, robbed by the coma
of time when his laughter suddenly breaks:
I offer my tears to a dimming moon
and hum myself to sleep.
Pre-written 3/2/2019
Applicable Not Applicable Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux Re-post 5/17/2019
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This poem expresses something terribly real
without being mundane. The subtlety of its tone
dramatizes the pain of death, hence, the reader
totally connects with the artist's deep emotions
in a gentle yet aching way.
Ama you are a father
Father my father
Whose basket of fishes
Sweetened my mother’s dishes
Whose naked feet danced
The jungle drum you drummed.
I remember
Father I still remember
Those joyous days
When like brooding hens
You employed your hands
To shield the offsprings
Those several bodies
O! the little bodies
That clung to your bare wide chest
Like the eaglets unto their nest!
I remember
The sun-burnt days of the hunted panther
When the full moon-light chimed
The rhythms of jungle drum drummed
Rhyming with the story told
By the white-haired.
Then your roaring march
Along the prime paths of the forest
Then your rustic touch
Touching the weapon-hilt
Making carcasses of beasts
Making fresh clan feasts.
I still remember
The raw feasts of the drummer
Which strewed this universe
Like young Mbari warriors
Taking the spear from several clans
Turning their crowns into tributes!
Ama, you are the drummer
Whose communal tongue echoed
From the hidden chambers of the Niger
The drum of your conquests echoed
Everywhere in the universe
Like the gusto of the Sheik
Confiscating my land from the Sahara
In her eternal desiccation.
You are the royal father
Whose royal eyes woo the moon
Whose black hairs detain the sun
Like Joshua at Gibeon
Even in the deep valleys of Ajalon
Bringing the heavens to abrupt halts
When their course possesses progress.
O, Ama! you are a noble father
And like the gold-laying eagle my Africa
Your natural pocket flowers gold
Which fills the coffers of the household.
O Ama! you are our race
The clan greets her farmer
The tiller of my earth
The earth of the ancients
The ancients of my blood
The blood of my race.
The clan is still drumming
On the drum that now is a mere echo
Of the eternal rhythm of your drum
Ama, you are still our clan’s song;
O, you are my song
The song my jungle
The jungle of my blood
The blood of my race:
A race
Waiting
Now and ever
In a forlorn clan
Awaiting
A return of the drum?
Form:
Senses are aware of a cavernousness,
And of a stillness almost quietley abrupt..!
softness of light & air surround all,
deft as breath as from a doves wing reposing
billows of liquid descending are as grains,
the seeds of an "almost raining"
A lowering of horizion encompasses,
Valley, ridge, and outcropping crag's
the listening atmosphere waits...
breathless as soil is enriching
Close by mammals disturb the folds of fallen bracken,
with bursts of muffled sound, as hand in hand lovers stroll around
Poem by Joe Maverick copyright 27 9 2011
This poem is for Michael J. Falotico's falling in love in the fall contest:)
I raise my voice and rage a fight
for little children trashed and thrown.
Sweet little coos and burps never heard,
the printed mittens never sewn.
These tiny children wanted to play,
and be held and cradled so near.
To hear Mommy say,” I cherish you”,
and lullabies to wipe dark night’s fear.
Their marble eyes never touched the sun,
never touched a rubber ducky in soapy arms.
Never had a chance to shriek those circus smiles,
or twiddle Grandpa’s warm violin thumbs .
Their tiny breaths chopped in a moment,
with pierce of the sharp metal they expired.
Were they able to shout silent screams?
Or trapped in a cocoon where they can’t hide.
Their pink little fingers stopped squirming,
Heart beats blocked fading black and blue,
The luster of many decades of unlived joy gone.
Is this the most convenient thing to do?
And there go more of abrupt conceptions,
Unborn babies are gifts from God to behold.
The love for children has no need for shame, for guilt
As news of birth is the greatest wonder ever told.
...... ........ .
Contest of Scribe Marlon: Unborn Babies Dream
By nette onclaud
There once was a time
Though it's hard to believe
A superhero, of a kind
Could be someone like me
Every language or letter
I could fluently speak
Make everything better
With exaggerated feats
Like kill giant spiders
With the swipe of one hand
Make night dreams quieter
Chasing off, the boogie man
I could enter the mind
Inciting imagination
Simply sit side by side
Causing total elation
I could hold the world
With my strength in one arm
Make it sleep, as I swirled
No need for alarm
It was rather abrupt
It all came to a stop
My children grew up
Now I'm just Pop.
by Daniel Turner
The first was a wee bird
How clear the glass
Its thud was loudly heard
Rendered it to the earthen grass…
The second was the pig, squealing
Yielding its life in a blood-letting, crass
Still heard inside, the porky-pealing…
Swollen turtle mommy was to shed
Ocean tears before her eggs boiled - unappealing
Mealy-mouthed slurping of yolk-sloppy dread
Even now, such distaste, recoils…
The chicken heads chopped-dead
Headless guillotine shudders, roil
In an abrupt death paroxysm
Next, after panic-eyed goats, humans
Gunning for the body-soul schism…
(1/8/2020 Inspired by the contest: how death has affected you
Regal 2001 Commodore 2960; DMS)
Someday, maybe
I will be unshakeable
unmovable
steadfast-
I tell myself.
So secure in
myself and the
present moment and
all the little minuscule things
that I control
That nothing and no one
will ever shake me up
unsettle or disturb me
ever again...
Like a monk
breathing out, breathing in
sheltered in stillness
empty of self and
full of wholesome mantras
tranquility and
peace-
I tell myself.
For I've had practice
in the unexpected-
and practice
makes perfect, right?
Unexpected pregnancy, alarming illnesses
accidental death, unlikely friendships
abrupt financial ruin, sudden second-chances
unexpected successes and
unexpected failures...
Come to think of it-
none of it was ever
what I expected, at all.
*Image of Mauna Kea Hilo Bay by Big Island Now.
*Hilo Town, Now and Then
Signs of
Store Closed
or Out of Business
with taped crossed doors
A passing peek
through unkept glassed storefronts
of hanging cords from ceilings
and holes in walls
Abundant parking stalls lay abandoned
near to empty sidewalks of the main street
a marooned Hilo town rest
lives now resigned behind closed home doors.
A father's lengthy search in a parking lot
following, a parked Studebaker remains unlocked
as an anxious boy does a 60's abrupt run
suddenly braked-stopped by a mother's hold
Kress Department Store gleamingly welcomes
naive ignores mannequins that adorn storefront
the scent fills inside of popcorn or packaged candied ones
mom's clothes patterns with dad about as comics filled eyes
Christmas lights droop up and down the main street
every store big or small adds to the brightness
a youngster's glee emanates feelings likewise
hoping that said feelings last forever.
*Hilo: pronounced (HEE-low)
2020 August 15
*1st Place*
Enter the 'STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (24) ,any form,any theme'
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2020 August 19
28th jan2012
By Sashi Prabhu(zeauoxian)
These wooden meant to for all season,
Blue painted motored boats beacon,
Us to calm green sea waters,
To sail on and that’s all that matters.
The calm green waters dolphin rides,
Deep inside when the tide subsides.
Eight pals and two sailors sailed on
On a boat with the rent haggled upon.
Two and a half miles have gone,
Into the waters we sail on,
Squealing and giggling in delight,
Adrenalin pumped up and over excite.
The motor the sailor cuts off,
Over and over with a bit of scoff,
The dolphins they say swim and are gone
By the dull sounds of the motor whirr &drone.
Waves they splash frothy sprays
On the bodies bathed in hot sunrays,
Shrills cries of joy erupt,
From us sightseers eight on a glimpse of dolphins seen abrupt.
The wet bath suits and sun tans,
Some with hand held beer cans,
Watch the dolphins frolic in the sea
Cavorting in graceful curves both she and he.
The sailor maneuvers you to the place
Of marine life ,pelagic birds his boat with grace,
The sight of these magnificent mammals,
Feeding and playing their bodies look coated with enamel.
The thrill so great just to watch,
These mammals is just top notch
This pod of dolphins swim away,
We watch through misty sea sprays.
Salty breeze seep in our hair,
Smiling sun shines on our burnt backs bare,
The dull sounds of engine power,
The enchanting sounds of rythimic waves in my ears still hover.
Home away from home sounds strange
Yet our time here has brought change.
It seems just like yesterday
We arrived to plot and play.
We dived into our roles fast
Sketching moves from first to last.
Watched the autumn gold hues glow
Briskly tell a story flow.
Days have come slipping away
As if in a routine sway.
Change fashions an abrupt tease
To recite a distant lease.
Time drips away anyhow
As such odd moments ooze now.
Going home anchors clear zest
As fond feelings flush brief quest.
Away since that yesterday
No more words to sculpt new play.
From this solitary space
We fly home to our own pace.
In this journey journal page
Watch words trek time in a cage.
Leon Enriquez
07 June 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT