Long Cresting Poems
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The most social thing on earth
Social than the Social Networking Sites
Tall with straight uniform trunk
Unbranched trunk topped with a
Tuft fanlike or featherlike leaves.
Cresting with a plume of long feathery fronds
Making a graceful silhouette of unique beauty
With spiral arrangement of its wood fibers
Which makes it a tree of unusual suppleness and strength
Large evergreen leaves
With bundles of vascular tissue
Scattered throughout the trunks.
Abundant throughout the tropics
And thrive in almost every inhabitat therein
The quintessential image of relaxed and elegant lifestyle
A good friend in need,
A good friend indeed
Because of its versatility,
Many people cannot do without it.
Having as many uses as the year has days.
And noted for productivity in the bible
Imagine the way it comes to its full bearing
After ten to fifteen years on earth.
And still continue to bear for nearly a hundred years.
Of great economic importance,
Providing food, fibre, wine and oil
Widely used in landscaping for its exotic appearance
A useful ornamental tree
This social palm tree
Ode to Harris
So they showed you
the politics of poetics
showed you how to sculpt
quotations
as if discreetly yours
sure-e-e...
they told you of your godhood
at Harvard
but they crucified you at Rowan Tree
fourteen light stained pages
4.95
6-15-00
__
Watching years go by
like the wax flow of candles
making mountains on
unblemished parchment
can’t help but wonder
what the light was ever used for
11/12/00
Facing South
Dusting off my polarity
I face North
and wonder what force
has brought me here
Concrete
Ehhhkhhkhhkkkk-uhhhuhhhuttuttt
sounds the forming of a citadel
ingredients flow in steps
(Fernando understands it all in Spanish)
The joviality of the foundation
is overcome with glee when
work is done
sitting among the leaves
and unrecyclable debris
I wonder, giving an entourage of words to meaning,
is this not concrete?
but what a venture!
so somewhere down the line
perceived madness will transform
into old age
as greatness is perceived
by those who lost the least
Work Bench
Aromatic flow
in an autumn breeze
smells of home
and 3/4” 4x8 sheets of plywood
fighting the mathematics of a
Taiwanese circular saw
the dry pulp blood
covers my cloths
smiling perplexed by an ancient memory
can almost feel time weathered hands
brushing sawdust from my hair
looking down
the cut clamors to the ground
12/28/00
The sunsets of my loneliness
silent thoughts of what was believed
unbreakable
life’s path is always mistakable
for the consistency of coincidence
to a love alone
The pencil is my heart
The paper is my burden
And the love on this snowy evening
is the focal point of my existence
AN INTERLOPING BIRD’S MIGRATION
Flew the bird from my
windowsill
Floating away like child
blown dandy-lions
Dissipated in the peachy air
of sunrise
Calling, calling “Birdie, Birdie
crash your cresting thoughts over me.”
(In darkness though, words are intricacies
of ice on glass)
Subconcious streams flitter through my silty porthole
Ebb and flow through my consciences' filtering scroll
Clogging the interstices and my formative, fragile mind doth control
Perceptions of self flood my sensory console
Pent-up desires breach mind's, shallow levee and over carefree banks roll
Carnal instincts bleach and, over time, corrode my chaste compass's steady pole
My soul's rudder listlessly through the choppy waters doth stroll
Delusions of grandeur and trite fantasies o'er my wayward ship troll
Teetering sails are blown about by truant winds so droll
Faulty navigation beaches my tattered psche on a barren shoal
Battered by the waves of inconstancy paying a penitent toll
Tunneling through the brackish bilge; a frenetic mole
Seeking to escape frollicking tidal waves that my froward, youthful mind did cajole
Sifting through the rancid seaweed that years of cresting tides did dole
Cloaked with guilt, shame stranded on a rocky, desolate atoll
Still vainly trying to justify my hopeless condition; my fleeting worth extoll
*Image of Twilight New Moon by Novocom.
AUDIO: Soundtrack from the film, 'The Evening Star' with Shirley MacLaine and Jack Nicholson
Seasonings
Summer twilight dawns an evening crown
surfers lounged alongside boards, lain atop cooling sands
chatter swapped to suggestive feeble snores, true lifers naught workers
cresting ripples o'er sandy shore molded whimsy sandcastles to mounds
Trivial zephyr abroad builds, tapping cliffs
sweeping inland indulging effortlessly till slighted by few existing shanties
heeding opened windows lissome brushes, tonal effects quietude to life
September morn declares its golden hues to arrest savoring eyes
yellow accents twirling oranges respite alongside crumpled reds
vibrant picturesque displays an artisans portrait
Mobility afoot, gathering sorts of the anticipating talented, fervid hunch
transitions a time as creation spurs onward whilst we embellish
capturing the day as it occasions
our pleasure, we fail ... pleasing Him, our reward.
2021 August 04
*1st Place*
A BRIAN STRAND 1096
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 March 26
*2nd Place*
Writing Prompt - Fragmented Spaces
~~Constance La France: Judged 2021 August 13
THE THRILL OF THE PLUNGE*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
steel tracks twist and dive,
a serpent of metal coil
fear and joy collide
hands raised to the sky,
trusting the rush of the ride—
in thrill, our hearts soar
cresting the high peak,
the world drops away below
time bends in the loop
screams mix with laughter
hearts race in the weightless air—
then the silence falls
back on solid ground,
echoes of thrill linger still—
brave hearts crave the next
*Note:This poem was written for and published at Writer Monk for its weekly Poesy and Poise contest, August 18, 2025. This is my original poem.
On a grassy bank beside a trickling stream
I view her ebony locks of which I've dreamed
Naked she is bathing in translucent crystal clear
As I long for her shapes to shadow me near
This short distance between us in natures surround
For soon we will be in clinch on her sacred ground
Whilst all around there are sounds of wildlife lush
It leaves you in marvel as it quietens to a hush
I turn my head in this most dreamy of place
As I capture her beauty that nature has graced
The cooling waters from the pure running stream
Cascades down her body this fluid supreme
Her ebony locks down her body caress
Naked to bare we have no need to undress
On a blanket of tartan we kneel down as I dry
My love, my lady as we look into our eyes
Shaped undulations awaken thoughts in my mind
As I lightly touch my dreams start to unwind
Our adventurous hands now in wandering roam
Amidst the greens and colours in this harvest home
Beneath the blue, two torsos in mix
Feelings of desire have us joined in transfix
Pleasurable movements like soft rolling waves
Cresting in the breeze as we internally crave
Our love heightens in joyous serenade
By the stream beside the meadow, our love displayed
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-13.php
The trees crowd in along the broken trail,
sunlight tries to push through, but mostly fails,
straight trunks spread out and obscure distant gaze,
there’s eyes out there, watching, afraid they’re prey.
Ahead a break grows larger with each step,
cerulean against the forest depth,
the summit rock cresting half of the peak,
this vantage sought by many weary feet.
Red squirrels chitter and dash as I emerge,
I want to shout, but I restrain the urge,
swellings of peaks spread out like tapestries,
their secrets hid beneath the endless trees,
a slash of gray where earth cuts through in stone,
Mother Nature is lost without her bones,
then rips of blue, a ribbon swaggers slow
to wild ponds saved by being remote,
marsh meadows near sometimes reveal a moose,
but today only mallards are in view.
Beyond this lies a scar, a bigger lake,
fringed by cabins and docks, stretching out straight,
above it all vultures fly on the breeze,
their slow circles effortless and lazy,
to think such birds get this view every day…
Who knows if again I will pass this way.
Lofty oracle did with ceremonious rite fealty ordain
Two eagles soared on fecund mountain terrain
As twin peaks, sipped frothy dew from Venus's fountain
For a fortnight, rapturous clouds danced o'er my satin mane
But euphoric heights could not our platonic bond sustain
Anon, gilded valley below did your wandering eye retrain
Your cresting ego did my cherubic halo disdain
In wanderlust, you sifted greener pastures; drifting swain
Silting the tender lillies with a blighting stain
While from my spent pollen your nimble legs did abstain
As strapping lad, your insatiable mind rippling brooks did drain
Your **** desires drove you to climb the rockiest domain
And with intemperate senses the wildest herbs strain
My domesticated coattails could not stride your brackish train
My sallowing rose did a mildewed ring attain
Yet wilting stalk did in your fluttering shadow remain
Hoping for the cleansing tides of a penitent rain
Ornaments of gold and red
adorn his reindeer;
antlers filled with brightness
light the path of his sleigh;
jingle-jingling bells
ringing out in splendor,
chiming the arrival,
heralding the celebration,
the annual Christmas flight
begins.
While children in their slumber
dream of colored gifts
bow-filled, beneath their tree;
a cresting moon waves
from above rooftops,
to the man in red;
this messenger
is spreading cheer.
It’s that time again,
generosity abounds,
family and friends gather
to celebrate a birth;
some to simply,
take a pause
and consider
how they’re blessed.
Time taken
with food for strangers,
warmth from winter’s dangers;
is your blessing to others.
Sometimes all it takes
to spread the season’s cheer,
is a bowl of soup,
a warm coat
and a smile...
smiles are free to all.
I have been away some weeks, I’ll. Hope poetry will surface again with improved health. Have missed all of you
Fully This Gift. —————-
This overwhelming love that nods
To the rise of each hour’s passing
Throu day and on into night,
Bears God’s full story
Of All, so blessed
With his redeeming grace…
This force striking the heart
With profound feelings
And often mysterious aching that
Impels the inner voice to lament or
to sing...
This driving pulse and, too, this
Stirring
Motion of every hungry breath ,
Existing
By creation in the great cosmic design,
Firing
On within all thought and seeking to persist...
This enfolding magnificence
— from amoebas to mountains —
Which we perceive,
Then compose into prayers
desiring answers, perhaps to come hidden,
in each each individual,
like flakes of snow...
This glorious gift
— not easily grasped —
This immeasurable jewel,,.
This is Life
For each soul:
Cresting on these blue waves,
these scrolling oceans,
glimmer
The points of our passions...
With this open sky displaying
The criss-crossing contrails of our
Pursuits...
This possibly limitless hope to be
Found…
This
Now awaits...
———————————————————————————(c) sally young Eslinger 3/31/21
Thanks be to God