Long Looming Poems
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A glazed view, as through a glass that magnifies
Between the granite banded with blue and umber
Cruel paths of glacier, ancient swords of hunger
Deeply carved a threshold one can hardly grasp
Each turn of compass, leaves a gasp
Forever brings our talking to a halt
Green rivers whipped to white by waterfalls
How gaunt the pines climb high upon the ridge
Itself, a place exempt from time
Justifies belief of Godly kind
Keeping watch above a valley floor
Looming monoliths of ancient lore
Morning bright of shimmering brooks that flow
Next brings winter breezing through the mind
Ours the privilege of beholding
Past and futures coming here together
Question not the overwhelming wonder
Relished eyes behold the truthful splendor
Saturates the heart and soul forever
That if one stands too long within such glory
Under white peaks and folklore stories
Varying degrees of speechlessness and thrill
With sun above, and human form so small
Xanadu is not of fiction, it is real
Yosemite, this place, this land of royal grace
Zenith, this land of majesty, my eyes and heart embrace
________________________________________________________________________
Inspired by Deborah Guzzi's contest: "Do You Know Your A B C s?"
Dedicated to My Dad....Where he spend his childhood
(Sir Frederick Treves, Victorian surgeon, has the
following claims to our respect: (1) he discovered
and cared for Joseph Merrick, "The Elephant Man":
(2) He followed the route in Italy of the characters
in Browning's "The Ring & the Book", taking
priceless photos: and many more things!)
The Eloquent Man
Sir Frederick Treves enjoys four claims to fame:
the lifelong friend of Thomas Hardy, who
supped with him in the King’s Arms snug: the name
of Joseph Merrick (Robert Browning, too!)
is intimately linked with his: he’s due
a place in heaven for his healing feats:
and yes, he lived here, on the street of streets.
It’s Dorchester, or Casterbridge to some.
And Treves, a native, knew its ways and whims
as well as Hardy did. When he succumbed
to his appendix, genteel pseudonyms
were dropped. Tom Hardy chose the funeral hymns.
He also honored Treves in gentle rhymes,
to mark his passing, in the London Times.
The wretch named Merrick, or the Elephant Man,
could well have lived his loveless life untended,
had Treves not found him. Merrick’s mortal span
was made more bearable, being befriended
by one of London’s foremost. When it ended,
poor Joseph Merrick, long reviled and scorned,
found home in Wimpole Street, where he was mourned.
King Edward feels a grumble in his tripes,
and sends for Surgeon Treves, the kingdom’s best.
“You mustn’t operate,” the sovereign gripes,
“My coronation’s looming.” “Which seems best,”
asks Treves – “a crowning, or cremation?” Pressed
to give an answer, Edward takes the knife –
and Treves the genius saves his monarch’s life.
The poet Browning wrote some novel verse,
or rather, a verse novel: ring and book,
Italian murder tale. Treves was immersed
in it, obsessed with it, completely hooked:
went off to Tuscany, made notes, and took
some photographs, made sketches, thus preserving
the base of fact. The man defines “deserving”!
Flowers fade and decay through wintry hours - waiting for rebirth."
Quote by - Constance La France
The night extends its life longer
The temperature gets colder
The colourful landscapes fade to orange
Rustic browns shape the scene
Sepia tones indicate age
The natural world decaying
Stripped back; the bareness of finality
Stark images of looming death
The bleak imagery of winter
In still and dark whispers of light
Destruction pervading terrains of white
Enveloping the ground
Daylight returns in victory
For darkness relinquishes strength
Bare desolation is melting away
With sunlight warming earth
Glimmering shards of renewal
As buds begin taking new form
Birthing beginnings; life everlasting
Cycle of change restored
Outlandishness!
forsake me promptly
ink and exegesis
no reminiscence of yesteryear
unexpectedness
not all epistles
armchairs
philharmonic
autumn leaf looming
omnisiouly close
throughout drudgery
utterly dehydrated
me, my pencils
lack of inspiration
exsiccated
tears stream on face
For all anguish!
upheaval giving back voice
rivers dig deeper and deeper
mysterious redundancy
1ST Place Contest Winner
Written: February 20, 2022
A Brian Strand Vers Libre Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
I observe the naked light un-folding' waking a day so bright, near broad seas
Rolling! In power rippling curling,
then dissapating, a breeze
arises carressing senses exciting.. The hills above show head and shouldered looming, i see lichen green on
Wayside bouldered, Burgundy
roses around a cottage porch, such beauty all
Naked there is no garb needed; naught."as is the
Moonlight; when it arrives, shall be un-impeded, I see cowslips yellow, the irisis
Blue, the sky in its splendour, and un-matched hues, of all this the very same
Is true.' In their naked states that God created, does anything decribed need enhancing? I say if any so think? Well they
Need berrating, what am i recieving
of deeper truths? Is God giving me
insight naming world delete's who
clothe war in piety, and sell greed..? As
blest? who are of those, who would
destroy not deliver, and Gods Spirit test"
Killers of all that is so great
and good! The naked gift
of ithe nnocent child' how deep lies your
Depravity? You by now; thrice damned imbiciles.!!!
Darkness has overcome me, back alleys alongside the stray cat, no needs to be seen no longer, everyone’s gone home… only the sounds of sirens chasing the empty city streets…
Strangers wrapped up in their only warmth of a tattered blanket, cardboard box is their hotel. No family around to seek my feelings, welcome mat has been pulled..
Life’s showing its ugly face, broken beer bottles, fu garbage cans becomes my fast food, no stranger am I to thus depressing mood.
My only companion is my shadow looming in the evening moonlight, our nightlight soothing our sorrows of a once loving family, laughter, hugs, a warm roof over our head, loving mom who tended to my every need, now up in heaven..
Time for bed, as I wrap up right in my one dirty stingy blanket, a jacket as a pillow to lay my burdened head down, my darkened shadow too is laying down, good night world, my soul I give to you, if I shall die before I wake I give it to God…. Good night
"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart" Helen Keller
In deepest darkness I wander the street.
Sounds looming, people rushing, don’t feel weak.
Bravely stepping. Child’s laughter makes me smile.
I come to the road with cars whizzing by.
Sun’s rays upon my face, I feel the heat.
Each stride to the unknown. Cool shadows streak.
Combination of scents and smells beguile.
Sharp senses, with confidence I rely.
My white stick taps out a sweet happy beat.
I’m enjoying my walk no longer meek.
Feeling I belong, I will stay a while.
I’m part of this bustling city, that’s why.
Special feelings come now that I am blind.
What my eyes don’t see, I see with my mind.
Dawn hurls
Eastern sun blooms;
New day beckons
~~~~~~~~~
Morning mist
Hint of rain;
Sunrise supersedes
~~~~~~~~~
Chinese New Year
New zodiac animal;
Lunar spring time
~~~~~~~~~
Bad news looming
Haiku poet dead;
Pain strikes home
~~~~~~~~~
Cryptic headline
Bad news sells well;
Controversial climax
~~~~~~~~~
Bamboo twigs
Twisted spirals;
Prosperous blooms
~~~~~~~~~
New hair salon
Cut, trim and perm;
Designer looks
~~~~~~~~~
Dreamy death
Rest and relax;
Abrupt house call
~~~~~~~~~
Another year
Slips away forlorn;
New rapture arrives
~~~~~~~~~
Floral bouquet
Eleven red roses;
Perfection tells
~~~~~~~~~
Feast on fortune
Million bucks here;
Loose change flows
~~~~~~~~~
On the blind side
New tale prompts;
Scripts show up
~~~~~~~~~
Walkway makeover
New bricks;
Zigzag contours
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
01 February 2017
Singapore
A dove in white attire gave a letter in its claws
To a sleeping bird prince soon to get applause
The dove sang a tune to cast off the sleep’s darkness from him
Drowsy, the sparrow read “Your crowning has come with no slight whim
Leave your hidden nest and come to the golden halo without pause”
He was disturbed with this news and the world looming above
His eyes then filled with astonishment and love
From the angels cheering from high above with their white wings
His wings flew him to his crowning which had the greatest of rings
Swimming through the cheers from aeons, his subjects and the white dove
He became king of the all, crowned with the golden eclipse
He shone forth like a flaming apocalypse
And became a flaming phoenix with feathers of sunlight
His wings’ feathers shine with the orange of dawn and all its might
He now knows himself, the shining truth that cannot be said by lips
The monarch with his crown of gold and silver without flaw
Oversees his world of wood, hay and straw
Seeing the darkness and the archons’ fire in starkness
Praying and knowing Christ’s light will outshine the flames and darkness
To rescue the chicks trapped in this world cage that withstands every claw
The darkness comes in bleeding sorrow when Autumn calls
and summer’s dying light fades to cold, shadow filled dusk,
as the quiet stillness of the invading night falls,
once again, broken on deathly gleaming bloodshot eyes.
She knows what they want with their vulgar words and catcalls.
They have been here before but on this night she feels fear.
The coolness of the air seems foreboding as time crawls
past midnight and their looming presence fills the shadows.
A cross dangles low atop her layered camisoles.
Clutching it she whispers a prayer; the night goes still.
With handsome, quiet demeanor her flight he forestalls.
“Calm my sweet,” his deep voice offers as his cape appears
and her scream of morbid fear, echoes off of the walls.
10/06/2017