Long Harbouring Poems
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The Rocking Chair That Keeps…
Up in the attic, there’s something or someone
that keeps creating an eerie, dreary air:
for the darkness is greedy
as it smothers a world of mystery,
a century of family history,
all boxed and cased
in a crust of rust and dust!
Pictures of Dad as a sprightly lad,
Gran with no wrinkle, just a youthful twinkle
and bits of me bagged and forgotten.
However, it is the empty, rocking chair
that reaches out with a squeeze of….. unease.
Yes, up in the attic, there’s something or someone
that offers, a bite of fright and a dreaded dare:
as pipes snake into secret, cobwebbed lairs
and wooden beams stream like overhead train lines
while the excitement of discovery hides in the past.
But it is the empty, rocking chair
that grips and grabs at my attention
as I sense ‘something’ harbouring its wooden frame.
Oh yes, up in the attic, there’s something or someone
that keeps, nudging and grudging with a gloomed glare:
the room suddenly trembles, my heart holds tight
but it’s only the wind galloping by at night.
Immediately a watery giggle,
gurgles the length of a pipe
increasing my midgets of fidgets.
I turn and an aged mirror offers a face of fear
but I breathe again – for it has only borrowed mine.
Up in the attic, there’s definitely something or someone
that keeps, me uneasy, even queasy, each time I am there:
for the darkness is greedy
as it smothers a world of mystery,
a century of family history,
all boxed and cased
in a crust of rust and dust!
But now…. something far more shocking,
a lone rocking chair that keeps.…rocking!
Ian Souter 2025
There was a touch of sadness
A moment there came to be missed in time
Words were given in turn to portray the absence
For a portraiture of moments unforgotten behind
A mystery hides beyond the enigma
Truth within grasp yet deep afar inside
It felt meaningful atween this lunatic sinatra
Harbouring unrealize sins to be realized beside
With the night to chill this dreamless dream
Love of its true origin can be realized
What it takes is to simply embrace the sins
And moments no more need be fantasized
An unfounded freedom engifted to creed
A comforting sorrow enveloping yet to yearn
Those of blood worth sacrificing to bleed
For the sins and the engiver to soak as one to learn
It cannot be told how it begins
This portrayal and betrayal of realism
Yet a moment nevermore it remains
The sinful moments of time in lunatism
Form:
Blakean ghosts' boasts..frollicking in rollicking
Rolling hillock hosts..ripe shenanigans..perry toasts
Believing in hefty heaving heroes
Hallowed harbingers..halcyon hedgerows
Harbouring tranches of branches..ferry very merry berries
Majestic mosaic montage barge of balletic
Incandescent flowers..weaving wherries
Showering prophetic kaleidoscopic poetic dreams
Streams through towering mesmeric green tunnels
Full to the gunnels..reams of sheens teem..flowing funnels
Bestowing.. glowing transcendent beams gleam kinetic
Luminescent aesthetic barrage..overpowering iridescent fluorescent flowering
Every single one of Mother nature's tendrils tingle
Mingle..saluting seasonal succour..mooting rebooting from fruiting..pukka
Suprise surprise ....empathise with a sadist
Draggin emotion through joy consumed rages
So while fear&envy enjoy there true places
Contempt coils around paranoias two faces
True shame is guilt ... pride is living arrogant
And Taking pleasure out of all the embarrassment
Anger management loaded with sympathy
Where hatred can only find hope in hostility
Or grief in euphoria but jokers are killing me
With a token of civility behind an arrogant threat
By harbouring infamy while evicting respect
Display no remorse , and never live with regret
Ya feelin me yet ? Lifes an Emotional wheel of roulett
What ever u put into it is all u ever gonna get
Now that's a pestilent sentiment
Form:
When grief became a shadow
It felt as if nothing else mattered
Like a sudden darkness
Raining down upon us
Like sucking the light from our eyes
Like a wound opened multiple times
It follows you like a stalker
Creepily walking behind you
Keeping an eye on your every moment
And when you think you outsmarted it
When you take a deep breath and treasure the moment
It strikes when you are most vulnerable
Stealing your breath
While watching you struggle
The weight of what could've been haunts you
Wishing you didn't give in to the world's cruelty
Whishing you could travel back to the moment
When the world taught you, your skin was a problem
Telling the broken you
You love them
When the world forces you to carry perfection
Whilst teaching white children that their skin equates to perfection
Wishing the world could see
How damaging trauma can be
When you make black kids believe
That they are a crime against humanity
Carrying it to their teens
And through adulthood
believing
A world harbouring their envy
When in reality
It's us They want to be
Before the dawn could teach the city how to wake,
I found my face where old relinquishments still burned;
Each breath became the mason of the walls it chose to break,
Till silence knew the man whom suffering had unlearned.
One leaf upon a wintered tree revised the season's claim—
Love signed where time had long forgotten every name.
Then midnight raised a lighthouse in the chambers of my breast,
Whose beam sought not the sea, but all I'd left behind;
My shipwrecked selves came homeward, neither anchored nor confessed,
For every lost horizon had been harbouring the mind.
The future was no country waiting somewhere to begin—
It gathered like a coastline from the tides I kept within.
So now I ask no heaven for a kingdom yet to rise;
The stars inherit only what the steadfast spirit proves.
Each faithful heart becomes the grammar by which darkness dies,
The unseen shore toward which eternity still moves.
The universe remembers, not by thunder, throne, or flame,
But when one inward lighthouse quietly learns its Name.
His introduction is a roundabout in continuous turning
this criminal sees me as one whose deep thinking is lost
crazy assurances of converting a piece of grass to a garden
obese rewards only can be reached through a hidden maze
half evidences and my appetite slips through dark paths
it’s obvious, the trail of a scammer’s conversation stays sinuous
money, war, death, power, assistance: information in constant twisting
without harbouring greed, one cannot be trapped
wisdom cracks crookedness to put an end to this unwarranted puzzle
he’s gutted; not giving my account details was the wall.
Published: 6/25/2020
For "Maze- 10 word challenge poetry contest"
Sponsored by A Dear Heart
The 10 words: garden, maze, paths, sinuous, turning, trapped, puzzle, twisting, lost, wall
Placement: 3rd Position [6/30/2020]
- in those moments, it shines.
The nostalgia of an upside down
world glinting up through hourglasses of years,
a mark impressed upon flesh; a scar harbouring
simple childhood games inside a jagged
line now faded. Occasionally it flares,
reddens from a twist of skin uncomfortable,
or in the tightness of early morning dressing;
the twinge acts as an echo, a ripple, a call from
back then, years ago, an era lost like sand
through fingers sweaty from summer heat,
lemonade with ice cubes clinking. The scar,
the mark, that narrow margin of error, a
Faultline physical memory running like a border
along my skin. And you were there, holding my hand
- in those moments, it shines.
Endlessly the golden red tinged sands roll on,
vast dunes tower with narrow gully's betwixt them.
Cast in purple and black shadows harbouring an oasis.
Dotted with swaying palms and colourful birds singing
and blue waters that entice as they shimmer and sparkle.
Here, hidden in the dunes folds, a priceless peace reigns.
A place that holds a treasure not governed by gems or gold.
Here tucked away everyday values no longer are important.
Tranquillity blows in on hot winds that ripple the surfaces
of sand whipping it into mini swirls that dance away.
Shadow Hamilton
written 09/16/2014
contest: IN THE DESERT
sponsor Nette
Amnesia
... or impaired memory?
Jezebel stood firm before my eyes!
Behold Her Imperial Ruthlessness!
And her bosom, harbouring bile,
Was bleached like lightning.
Arachnid fingernails mock the efforts
Of talons from revelling vultures.
Eyes pierced my brows with lasciviousness
So atrocious like the willpower of romantic gales.
And I saw her bathing in full nakedness
Upon rocks of blood,
Naked with the accoutrements of raw power.
And she bathed with inebriation.
Power is like alcohol which intoxicates only
Those who have tasted it.
A panting rill rustled like vagrant, charred leaves
Around her cold, naked feet.
Jezebel.
Whiter than horrid death!
Night,
And she sequesters.
Sublime, the existence,
Merging with night, with
Mirrored glances atop arid waters.
Her flesh reeked of baked blood;
Subcutaneous imprints live on her.
Jezebel,
Mother of termagants,
Rector of covens,
Ancillary to Devil’s cantonment
Hater of suffragans,
Hasten upon these hills
Before the break of dawn...
It’s dawn.
Day of Jezebel’s atonement
And blood cluttered upon solemn boulders
And upon harmless pebbles,
Upon sapphire and onyx,
And upon flaming gold and eerie silver.
Mad moments of pulsations!
Tremors and heat of hanging day,
Eruptions on Pompeii’s rage,
Adrenalin aerated beyond
Flirting clouds dancing with the greed of
Sorrow.