Long Kenning Poems

A meadow for Autumn

Forest, I lay me down to rest
upon bed of moss.
 
Eternal sleep immediately overtakes me 
lichen kenning myself 
as Rip Van Winkle 
except being repurposed
as  oldest living species. 

With an estimated...

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What does it take to shut down the dialers					 
who feed on our ears and our patience?
O What does it take? 
How can we shut down the pleas for support,
the electric voices that bother our...

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Though east is east and west is west, 
each corner lawyers will infest,
and one thing they’ll deploy with zest:
notorious, the “but for” test.

You want to be the one who smirks,
once having stomped on stupid jerks?
Quell...

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The twenty-first son born with a brat his caul                          ...

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When a precedent-busting pandemic is palling around the world 
when its concomitant panic and pain freak out
it is your fine figures that are unflinchingly unfurled
e'en as proctective gears barely eke out.

Isolation wards owe you diligence...

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a limning rush of sinister 
     fiery angry flames bent avast
analogous copse, 
     where every limb bough, bore full 

     roaring furnace hot...

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We met in yonder tavern
hay up top o' meikle hill
bousing  nappy til a' fou
the nite drave on wi' rairing voices
an the nappy growing better
a souter gars a bet wi' lades o' siller
the deil laughs...

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See you struggled by the blues,
Suffocating drowning eventually,
Where friends comrades pertly, 
Sacked tortured left on vex,
Life still there never let it go!

Keenly and accepted blues,
Shadowed on obituary parents,
Life squash perishable whole,
Kenning deep on heart chambers,
Troubled...

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You can't hold it both ways,  In meaning.' You
Are either direct.' Or  directionless..And thus
In a mess.' No less-en-ing, yet less kenning will ensue.' Though
You deny..Its more obvious..Showing through'
True.' Reality denying.? I find it...

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This is actually a form called: Kenning but, there wasn't a form listed for it.
 I just wanted to try one; hope it's decent.

  Swirling, twirling,
Windy-curling’s;
Rounding bark,
After dark.

Never ending
Branches bending;
Leaves singing;
Falls greeting.

Flying debris,
Landing free;
Raining-houses;
Sometimes...

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Pastiche of divine bliss,
The fluted sister of evening,
sits on her bridal bed
With troupe of twinklers,
Cheeks aurora Borealis.

Night, my sweet love
Kiss this noctivagant;
Wandering bereft of dreams,
Drop like Indian bangles
Before me, reminiscence 
Of black flakes,from fire
Burning in...

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