Long Burnt sienna Poems
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the soft yellow streaked the terra cotta,shadowing the speckled sallow saffron a bluish buff upon the cochineal;brilliant boneblack grizzled the engrain citrine carnation as the fallow flaxen,rustic rubrical rainbow-tinted the magenta mandarine;unseen the ultra-marine, tinged burnt sienna,reflecting a golden flame of raw umbery upon the earth green;bright mosaic gold mottled the sallow sorrel virent yellow,oak stained the pale apricot;while blood red,reddish russet dotted the olive lind;freckled crimson,a chestnut maroon,on fuchsias faded apple green as burnt umber sank deep into its sanguine slumber.
I walk through the glade
colour enlightens me-
in my mind's eye
abstractions rainbow
my persoective
The soft yellow streaked the terra cotta,shadowing the speckled sallow saffron
a bluish buff upon the cochineal;brilliant boneblack grizzled the engrain
citrine carnation as the fallow flaxen,rustic rubrical rainbow-tinted
the magenta mandarine;unseen the ultra-marine, tinged burnt sienna,
reflecting a golden flame of raw umbery upon the earth green;bright mosaic gold
mottled the sallow sorrel virent yellow,oak stained the pale apricot;while
blood red,reddish russetdotted the olive lind;freckled crimson,a chestnut maroon,
on fuchsias faded apple green as burnt rumber sank deep into its sanguine slumber.
A novel that I haven’t read
Is Fifty Shades of Grey.
I know what it’s about, but why the grey?
I couldn’t say.
The only greys that I could name
Are charcoal, smoke or ash.
But fifty shades of brown?
Now, I could name them in a flash!
There’s mocha, chocolate, bittersweet,
Mahogany and umber;
Burnt sienna, saddle and
More tans that I could number.
Butterscotch and caramel,
Espresso, cocoa, rust;
Copper, coffee, khaki, chestnut –
There are more, I trust.
Cinnamon and chicory,
Malt and dirt and clay;
Sand and nutmeg, earth and mud
And one I cannot say.
Camouflage, bamboo and beige,
Bronze and fox and mink;
Camel, pecan, palomino –
Time to stop, I think.
I’ve made my point; as colors go,
I think it’s fair to say
That Fifty Shades of Brown makes sense
Much more than Shades of Grey!
the soft yellow streaked the terra cotta,
shadowing the speckled sallow saffron
a bluish buff upon the cochineal;
brilliant boneblack
grizzled the engrain
citrine carnation
as
the fallow flaxen,rustic rubrical
rainbow-tinted
the magenta mandarine;
unseen
the ultra-marine, tinged burnt sienna,
reflecting a golden flame of raw umbery upon
the earth green;
bright mosaic gold
mottled the sallow sorrel
virent yellow,oak stained
the pale apricot;
while
blood red,reddish russet
dotted the olive lind;
freckled crimson,
a chestnut maroon,
on fuchsias faded apple green
as burnt umber sank deep
into its sanguine slumber.
The haibun can be a standard(where haiku etc follows the prose) or afterword (where prose follows the haiku) or prose envelope (prose para haiku,para) verse envelope(haiku prose haiku) or interlaced (chorus, verse, chorus) or verse sequence (haiku,prose,haiku,haiku etc)
a haibun ABSTRACTION
The soft yellow streaked the terra cotta,shadowing the speckled sallow saffron
a bluish buff upon the cochineal;brilliant boneblack grizzled the engrain
citrine carnation as the fallow flaxen,rustic rubrical rainbow-tinted
the magenta mandarine;unseen the ultra-marine, tinged burnt sienna,
reflecting a golden flame of raw umbery upon the earth green;bright mosaic gold
mottled the sallow sorrel virent yellow,oak stained the pale apricot;while
blood red,reddish russetdotted the olive lind;freckled crimson,a chestnut maroon,
on fuchsias faded apple green as burnt rumber sank deep into its sanguine slumber.
I walk through the glade
abstractions enlighten me-
colour my rainbow
Written: August 02, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
***************
In the slipshod cradle beneath the apple tree,
a bruised fruit folds ajar—
molten sweet sapidity pooling
through velvet skin.
Eviscerated grace, they say,
but I grasp the quiddity of life unmasked.
A burnt sienna kiss of aurora—
flesh undulating with fungal bloom,
wispy gossamer threads that stitch
the inevitable return to the earth.
It is not ruined.
It is a transformation:
a diaphanous ballet
between death and what dreams may grow.
We ogle brightness,
but rot is brighter still—iridescent with purpose,
alabaster spores pirouetting as sylphlike specters
on a sacred odyssey to placate
the starving soil.
It is seraphic.
It is a panacea.
It is quintessence made humble.
Rapture lies in this ineffable nexus—
decay whispers loud as a lullaby.
The rakish grubs maunder through
a velvet pyre of rind and memory,
and the loquacious beetle sermonizes
on endings as beginnings,
as though time had a gullet
And rot was its sweetest wine.
Call it grotesque.
Call it abhorrent.
But beauty—true, ineffable beauty—
wears many masks.
And in these nebulous throes of perishing,
I watch a face burnished by truth,
smiling with roots in its eyes.
oh ...
Gustav, how you pique the senses
captured passion's plural tenses
lovers twined in percale folds
caught supine with spattered golds
porcelain dolls in fetal slumbers
brushed sublime in tans and umbers
bold, the bleeds of Burnt Sienna
stippling scapes of fair Vienna
Yellow Ochre, Prussian Green
Cadmium Yellow, Blue Indanthrene
trees like soldiers, lilting boughs
abstractions spun of silken vows
ceilings meant to thus adorn
gilded graces - Heaven-borne
waters, tranquil - tresses, bare
a world composing textures, rare
you struggled long to e'er refine
your critics and uncommon line
subjects some then found appalling
yet, remained, your faithful calling
imbibing absinthe, sans a chaser
life you sketched with no eraser
and while we mortals can but dream
you left the world your gauzy gleam
so death would not define the worth
of genius meant to shake ...
the earth.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Klimt" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausen, Judge & Sponsor.
"If you're really in love, appearances aren't important. The best house is the one you build in each other's hearts."
Jung Yu jin
Autumn's alliterations amplified an acoustic of death.
Stillness of internal instrumentals silenced my acapella.
Words like wildflowers withered in winter wickedness,
without voice or verse I vanished behind a visible veil.
I was like a lifeless crystallised burnt sienna leaf,
as bitter breaths froze my brittle soul's ink.
Fatigued fingertips trembled from numbness -
without a purpose upon a speechless stage.
Afraid of crisp crying rain, which fell like a refrain.
my summer eyes turned amaurotic.
Life resembled a blank music sheet,
among an abandoned piano covered in iced cobwebs.
In solitude my music remained unwritten,
as I slept in a shivery silent slumber - tone deaf,
finding fading apricity in stolen daylight.
Until a silvery silhouette appeared. - sparkling.
Placed my hands into her warm glove-like hands,
wrapped me in an emphatic scarf-like embrace.
Her rose gold lips echoed in Orphic tones,
reviving my somnolent mute muse.
Blessed with vibrations from her vision,
senses awoke to rhythms of her heavenly harmony -
strumming an enchanting lover's lullaby.
Were you a gift from an orchestra of operatic angels,
sent to place hymns of hallelujah deep into my heart?
As her mystical mystery began to unfold.
In union our lyrics amplified into a rhapsody of romance.
Vibrant tunes from her intimate strings composed a
seraphic serenade, as we drifted into a dream world.
Today,
as we dance under emerald velvet northern lights,
snowfall covers our paths like an ivory blanket.
Soft flakes, like pearls glisten under tinsel moonlight,
as we leave poetic footprints behind in soothing snow -
a chorus of constellations glow to the tempo of our glorious sonata.
The sun is shining brightly now
The clouds from the hurricane gone
Air is crisp, cool slightly moving
From the northwest where winter comes
One lone hugh hickory decorates
The wood below the house with gold
The water droplets on the grass
Glistens in the soft yellow sun
The crows and roosters seem to be
In a choral competition
For on stage spotlight in woods where
Burnt sienna contrasts pine green
The needles still linger on trees
Ginko still is green waiting change
To the yellow of fall which means
Winter is upon the whole land
The sasanqa camelia blooms
Double white blooms first profussion
In seven years, early freeze kills
Most years, blessed with quiet beauty
I just want to unveil
all my unspoken litany of love
embossed in my silver scroll
when I think of you
each silken silence.
the sigh I cast~
upon your silhouette
on burnt sienna sunsets.
the whisper I make~
retelling our sacred story.
on each wandering cloud.
the unwritten love letters~
stored in purple petals
of spring blooms.
the dreams I decorate
for you and me~
carved upon
the rustic rocks
of make-believe
hoping that someday~
there will be, " Time For Us".
the beats of my heart
that spawn sublime symphony
inspiring me~
to paint a masterpiece
of your idyllic innocence,
and write my last poem
only for YOU.
20 July 2020