Long Leathery Poems
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I, a dragon fly, across the shadows of the sky,
away from neighboring towns and human eyes
high above gathering hovering clouds.
I roar steam rises from my nostrils.
My tail flicks back and forth as my leathery wings beats the air.
My fire opal-midnight-blue scales flash a play of colors
as I sweep around in great circles and spirals.
Downward gliding on my stiff transparent glittering wings.
My eyes are like glowing ember,
my claws are as sharp as onyx daggers.
I unfolded my wide translucent wings
and beat the air vanishing from sight,
soar towards the heavens swallowed up by the clouds.
2/7/2023
Writing Challenge - D Words - Poetry Contest
9. Dragon
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Towering sycamores shaded the court house on the old town square,
And as usual on summer afternoons, hangers-on were gathered there.
I joined them and sat on a bench with a grizzled old man,
Wearing bib-overalls, John Deere cap, and a leathery tan.
"Son, let me tell you a few things I've learned about livin'.
Firstly, you ain't gonna git far if you ain't carin' an' forgivin'.
An' you ain't gonna weather th' storms uv this turbulent life,
'Less you have a lovin', carin', an' forgivin' wife."
"But this wife things works both ways, you understand.
Treasure her, tell her you love her, an' always offer yer hand.
Instruct yer kids an' grandkids in th' ways of th' Lord,
An' jes' 'cause ever'body does it, steer 'em away frum that horde!"
"I've labored long an' hard for whut little I've got,
Farmin' on a shoe string on a hunderd-acre plot,
Sufferin' hail, flood, th' blight an' many a killin' drought,
But I ain't never asked th' guv'ment fer no free hand-out!"
"My wife an' me skimped an' saved an' put two kids through college.
I fought in th' Great War, an' that'll sure increase yer knowledge!
Even though I've had my share of tribulations durin' my life's long span,
I thank th' good Lord ever' day, for I'm truly a very blessed man!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Over the horizon,
on distant shores
lies my message in a bottle
cast askew on the beach
with other remnant memories
and hopes in tatters scattered
strewn among the drift wood debris
dead soldier memories lying face down
castaway sailor survivor sobs long gone,
in the debris fields of dead memories, silent
On distant shores
turtles hatch
alligators bask in the sun
seagulls argue and caw
fishermen love just being there
stranded cockles ooze under for cover
waves surge up and run out
tides rise and ebb
surfers smile, turn and head back out
ghosts of lovers walk the beach hand in hand
cries of kids playing echo in the splash and hiss of waves
kites ply the skies
pearly shells beckon beach-combers
cuttlefish and seahorse skeletons stark white
buried in the flotsam and jetsam
wood debris worn smooth and bleached
smelly old seaweed dried-out leathery
action aplenty, memorabilia.
On distant shores
the hiss and roar of waves
the glare of the sun
the coming and going of the sand
moved in drifts by wind and wave
drowns out all the memories
cast ashore as debris and litter
on a graveyard shore
where fresh footprints are washed away
where lingering wanderers
see, feel, touch and taste in the moment
but where no one hears
the stories locked away
in the debris fields of dead memories, silent.
White Wings
Perceived upon a sunny day, a flutter by sailing the still
Dancing a sequence with paper wings seeking to alight
And flit a nomadic path through warmth and perfect haze
Fragile life that traverses the blooms to spread the seed
But fast fading beauty that’s sought by human hand
To make extinct the dancing fairy with snowy fan displayed
Far from the cocooned confines of change
She tastes the summit of liberty that is her right
And clutches the uncertain straws of future
As nature struggles to even up
Drought
Relent the ruthless stream of extra violet and torrid sear
That drenches the fields with arid draining the verdant
Into patchy brown and frazzled mass of ocher
While fading pools display their depths of cracked mire
Look away I say from clear blue skies of stark
That dry the lips of those who view the sunlit scene
Instead seek the solace of shade below the gasping trees
Who long for days of cool and droplets fine
Restore again the summer hues of varied green
That sate the herd and make anew the faded color
How long the eerie still of hung and dried
That turn the dermal outer into leathery crevice
How long can ozone‘s layer stave the lesion
Of hothouse gas, man made poison
That tips the balance and seals the planet’s fate
A hollowed weight descends upon the floor,
The floorboards creak beneath a phantom hoof.
Though sight remains a cold and distant proof,
A skeletal presence paces by the door.
I feel the stir of leathery wings that soar
Within the mind, beneath this heavy roof;
It stands in silence, jagged and aloof,
A shadow-shape from ancient, darker lore.
A sudden echo of a breathless sigh
Disturbs the dust like wind on barren graves.
I reach to touch the void where ribs should be,
And find a pulse that doesn't seek to fly,
But lingers in the silence that it craves—
A secret kept for those who truly see.
A-Z Latin and Common names of plants.
A is for Acanthus Mollis the Latin name but this does teach us
B is for the common name we know it as bears Breaches.
C is for Campanula some are short and some of them tower
D is for the common name the pretty blue Dalmatian Bellflower
E is for Erigeron a daisy like flower not keen on the rain
F is for its common name, a strange sounding Fleabane.
G is for Galtonia its nodding head like a bowing nymph
H is for the common name the snowdrop or summer Hyacinth.
I is for Imperata Ruba not so hardy let me tell you alas
J is for the common name It’s known as Japanese Blood Grass.
K is for Kniphoria Triangularis a tall flower when unfurled
L is for the common name the pretty Light of the World.
M is for Morus nigia a stately tree with hearts shaped leaves
N is not for the common name but NEEDS care when pruning as it bleeds
Oenothera biennis is for an ephemeral beauty a perfume delicate on the nose
P is for the common name, and we know it as the Evening Primrose.
Q is for Quercus Ruba a fast growing plant that looks tremendous against a wall
R is for the red leaves that this plant displays when in the fall
S is for Salvia greggii you will of heard of this I’ll will wage
T is for its common name we know it as a Texas Sage.
U is for Ugni a fruiting tree with leathery leaves that is second to none
V is for variety in fact in this tree there is only one.
W is for Wisteria that loves to ramble up wires and twist
X is for Xeranthemum the flowers are straw like and crisp
Y is for the Yucca plant a flowering beauty that last for weeks
Z is for Zantedeschia a lily, a variety of colours for you to seek.
© 27/03/2013
Travel to Algarve
Eight boxes in a row in the middle of a grimy room, boxes looking
like each other. What’s in the boxes? The stale air of a perfumed boudoir?
Or the sweet breeze of a passing butterfly?
Wrapped boxes, one of them could be full of . If so, I hoped
it would be horse manure, I can’t think of a sweeter aroma
no addresses, though, not going anywhere soon.
A man dressed in a grey storstoreroom coat in and carried the boxes,
one at a time (to fill time to five o’clock) to a corner, one on top of the other
no interested in what might be in the boxes, as he had carried millions
of them before from nine to four.
The stockroom had a window high up on the wall to stop warehoused
things from escaping; what do I know?
The light was fading we better things to do
one can’t hang about all day doing but nothing wondering why square boxes
that look perfectly identical can be so different inside.
Finally, I opened a box and found myself sitting on an oak tree trunk
in the valley of the naked woman, considering her full-rounded ****
I looked up and saw the oak’s malevolent eye staring at me; before,
I could make my escape, I was hit by a leathery branch
oh, pain, make me strong
I forgave the oak had been standing there for hundred years
The former pope flagellated himself has been said, this, perhaps to strengthen
his fading faith; but he was a charming man, so we bear him no ill will
The valley of the naked woman has a hidden fountain
no tracks lead to there, the landscape is guarded by thorny bushes
and impotent apple trees.
After twenty years in the Algarve nothing to brag about
(scoured from dregs of me muss held head)
I shore up a vignette to free
my ("FAKE") grandfather Hymie,
whose scrunched countenanced
evinced beetle that of browed monkey
he spent his entire life at sea
his thick calloused hands
and ruddy complexion re
enforced non verbal body language
voluminous tomes smoothed
nick holed money
to countless years (spilling into decades)
exposed to salty spittle nee
where watery terrain spumed
raw elements piscine
art finest artisanal blended, crafted, nein
mean feet resources dredged reluctantly
relinguished by mother nature mean
craftily pared within each trough and crest
found thee old man with privateer mein
whose skin fiercely weatherbeaten
leathery and lean,
epidermis tanned tough
as rawhide, reptilian, prithee
chafed skin to me
not surprising, since
this mariner born, bred and near lee
schooled within briny deep ever since knee
high (or so he claimed truth
to swirling rumor), jovialy
pleased that his purportedly
learnin' myth writ tik ne'r included
NEVER settn' foot in formal classroom,
his knowledge icy
anecdotes aced, surpassed,
and trounced that of what he
referred to as grenadier landlubbers
green behind the ears – glee
fully jabbing with his
unsheathed scabbard play flea
actually downplaying any exploits,
that didst educate him, 'ee
got taut learn'n survival skills asper
pre ponder hunt via eddy fied tests frequently dee
siding a life or death outcome,
yet our Dickensian
mutually bonding friendship
via shared exploits while
he dressed not in tatters,
but self made clothes from cree
chores comfortable furs, and though
a striking appearance cut, ne'r
did this ole codger (fit as a fiddle
with tall slender build),
said middle aged man
appeared quite becoming.
An aura, charisma, dogma
amazingly graced stalwart, gestalt,
deportment aie
found added an air of charming debonair,
esteeming flair, genteel heir
which tasked guessing years old,
aye presumed him to exit the uterine lair
at least a few score tours round oblate sphere
as aspect of youthfulness played across his eyes
one colored green like a spring day in the country,
the other jetblue sans burnin'
four pearl jam oyster cult year.
Draconem
Away from human eyes
I fly across the sky
High above the floating clouds
Some think I'm a myth, but I'm as real as you
As I roar steam rises from my nostrils
My tail flicks back and forth as my leathery wings beat the air
My fire opal midnight blue scales flash a play of colors
As I sweep around in great circles and spirals
Down gliding on my stiff transparent glittering wings
My eyes are like glowing ember and my claws are as sharp as onyx daggers
Brown, orange leaves fall like confetti all around a young girl named Jess
As she sits under a canopy of trees
She runs to me and up my wing and wraps her arms around my neck and whispers,
” Take me away a million miles to a land where there is no hate or war”.
As she clung tightly, I unfolded my wide translucent wings and beat the air
Vanishing from sight soar towards the heavens swallowed up by the clouds
10/19/2015
Sponsored By: Carol Eastman
A Klingon Love Poem
(In Klingon and English)
tlhIngan bang bom tlhab
(pa' tlhIngan 'ej English Hol)
tugh mate beast qem jIH
flesh, cobalt jIb tear rip
metallic jeD rip qIj vo' DapIHchugh
ghaH ghob'e' nasty, Hegh mInDu' qul
Hurgh qab leathery
uglier Dunmo' tay embrace
dungeons Hurgh foreplay yInISQo' maHvaD
DeSDu' muSHa'ghach objects hurling jej
ravDaq pound, lojmIt pach maH
bey HoS jachpu'DI' DeSDu' morg maS
roar rur heavenly ghe''or Qo'noS vergh
jaQ neH rIQ qet bangwI'
Dub inflicted Hoch latlhpu'
rol taj jej taj
'ej HIv Ho' sharper
'Iw 'uQ'a' Hoch latlhpu' maH
ghob wej qa''a''e' pemHov lust
A Klingon Love Poem
(In Klingon and English)
Bring me a female mating beast
To pound her flesh, to tear her cobalt hair
Rip the thick metallic black from the head
She must be nasty, with fire in the eyes for death
A dark leathery face
The uglier the better for the ritual embrace
Let us foreplay in dungeons dark
Hurling sharp objects at love
We will scorch the floors, claw the doors
Howl out loud at the moons of Morg
Roar like heavenly hell on Kronos shores
My love runs deep in the wounds
Inflicted on each others backs
With razor sharp knives
And sharper teeth attacks
We will feast on each others blood
Do battle till the sun comes up with lust