Long Puffins Poems
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One may see puffins and parrots
any hour of the week
both birds bear a big colourful beak
the former pelagic feed on fish
and live in large colonies on coastal cliffs
tho' monogamous collectively breed as a bunch
but with renown as the Atlantic sea clown
in Iceland several are served as lunch
the latter arboreal primarily frugivorous
toco being by far the largest
are opportunistic and occasionally omnivorous
to a few prudes it may seem unseemly or rude
and yet if they stick around they'll later get down
as their chicks are seen to hatch in the nude
these avians may fly high in the sky
have the same such things as two wings and legs
and of each species the female lays eggs
but that's where similarity does stop
one puffin can do more than toucan do
in more or less of a day
after mating its pecker turns grey
and without waiting its bill it will drop
I will wander like a gypsy seeking wisdom,
I will find it in each little knowledge system;
Each hair of beauty I'll split like a small atom,
And find in them the secrets hidden like stratum...
The world has wondrous places resembling heaven,
Like Bocas, Ha’apais, Tonga, Ya’mon or Devon;
Sailing by luxury cruisers boats and love yachts,
I'll make - waves and whales - stern companions of my sports...
Lying on roses, lilies, and hyacinths grand,
I'll sip the sacred nectar secretes like thin strand;
Like a butterfly or dragonfly, I’ll hover,
Savoring the sharp shrill subtle season-shower...
My movements are like swimming within clouds shallow,
And bathing within seas of heavenly hallow;
May sun and moon, like angels, guard my flimsy way,
May each ray that gleams like thousand lights, idyll-sway...
Milky Way, like grand seas, waters of blessings bring,
May Jays, Buntings, puffins, and pheasants, for me, sing;
Cosmos, like a wind instrument, mingle my voice,
May new heaven and earth in my great joys rejoice...
14 September 2021
IDYLL THOUGHTS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John lawless
is a mass hysteria
induced by the sound
of Indies short-tailed crickets mating,
not, as conspiracy would have it,
the result of a sonic weapon,
a microwave attack,
or malfunctioning eavesdropping equipment.
Likewise, the Sausalito Hum
was not a snooping Russian sub,
or newly laid electric cable.
No, blame the love sick plainfin midshipman,
a simple toadfish sounding off like a foghorn.
Pay no attention to the banshee cry of the lynx,
or to the brush-tail possum sounding off like machinery grinding,
not to puffins like chainsaws,
not to cheetahs chirping,
not to koalas bellowing,
not to ptarmigans chatting like cartoon characters.
Stories of spying and international espionage might be exciting,
but Mother Nature is much more surprising!
Inspired by "Animals Keep Creating Mysteries by Sounding Weird", Ed Yong, The Atlantic, January 8, 2019.
The other Church
Kai - Pembrokeshire
Way back beyond the crested waves that spill the ocean
‘Church Rock’ towers with puffins and seagulls singing
the tune of nature how many times have I prayed to God
Tai - Southbroom
When times are rough she takes the image and sits on
the rocks in silent meditation where the tussle of spray
paints her sorrows with birdsong and healing embrace
When the surf had taken me below rocks and foundations
I asked to help out at the soup kitchen to lighten my load
emerge from darkness but ‘sorry we do not need you here'
When she had her first child out of wedlock the pastor
said ‘you are evil this must be Satan’s child’ and again
there was no meagre space at the inn for illegitimate joy
The Buddha rocked me gently into a cumbersome slumber
and Tai was embraced by the Jewish community and showered
with food and clothes for the miracle child starred with David
Tai and Kai – the Universe
There is love beyond borders and the sky is the limit the waters
flow freely from source to the sea and when hypocrisy beckons
there is elsewhere a church called kindness compassion and love
15th February 2017
The title has been taken by kind permission of Valsa George’s “Sweet Memories” for which I thank and dedicate my poem to Valsa George for her friendship.
We were lying on the sand,
Listening to the soft murmur
Of short and light cool waves.
Above us, a red octagonal sun umbrella
Gave us the much-desired rest.
Far away a bunch of guillemots
Cross swiftly across the tranquil bay
To rest near a sturdy lighthouse.
Whilst puffins nest in burrows in the cliffs.
My wife noted the activity of birds
As some flew around the lighthouse.
She wanted to go and investigate
But it was too hot to trek up the cliff.
We’ll go at sunset, darling, I coaxed her.
The sea will be purplish red
Whilst boats began their trip home,
Their sails so crimson as the sun begins to set.
So, we packed all into our SUV,
And slowly wound our way
Amongst the thriving fields.
In our small cottage we had some tasty fare
And after a shower returned to bed.
Then that nightfall we returned to the lighthouse.
Oh, what a sight we enjoyed.
Till late at night, we admired the vista.
How happy and elated we were as we headed home.
My child has a love of poetry
It is rare, for she is only nine.
In her bare mind, words are potpourri
floating, rhyming by stanza, by line.
Holding a book ever so tightly
(it relieves the raw ache in her chest),
my sweet Emma floats almost nightly
carried by puffins in a bird nest.
She paints her pictures lying in bed
dreaming up puffin activities.
Writing what's in the front of her head,
one of her common proclivities.
Her situation stems from asthma
of pet hair and seasonal rebirth.
She fancies ease from the miasma,
high above noxious coughing on earth.
Starting with nursery rhymes at three
we have read Silverstein and Dahl
both of us memorize easily.
Her choice today is Lewis Carroll.
My Emma lives in her Wonderland
especially with a nebulizer.
Her teachers all seem to understand
it's “down to earth” math that defies her.
August 23, 2021
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
Contest Name The One Who Touches My Heart
The first chirp of the robin near my shut window pleaded
The blackbird, song thrush, chiffchaff, and pheasant pleaded as well.
The sunflowers, cornflowers, and marigolds that needed
Prayed for his help; he was as silent as a silent spell.
Fishes, amphibians, reptiles, and weak invertebrates
Hares, squirrels, owls, puffins, swans, geese, and willow ptarmigan
Lions, leopards, tigers, elephants, and monkeys with rude traits
Prayed; the cosmos seemed as though curled. The sun's silence went on.
As playgrounds were snow-covered, in gloomy moods, children prayed.
Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and cousins called. He said:
When I was shining, your minds seemed seismically swayed.
Can't you, when I am cool, with your inner warmth, march ahead?
Winter's whimsies play vehement games on the sun, so sure
Which element of nature, without him, can their wounds cure?
ENOUGH!
I felt deaf from the ‘noise’ of information,
constantly butting, buzzing against my mantra of:
“The quieter you are… the more you… hear!”
At present, my lifestyle felt media manipulated:
tv, radio, newspaper, mobile, computer.. ad infinitum!
Besieged by endless emails, monopolizing mobiles,
beset by frenzied yaps from apps!
Enough is enough is….. ENOUGH,
I have to escape from the unrelenting hullabaloo.
Can the human brain endure so much information
and who am I, an individual thinker or group dancer?
However, relief sat just around the corner
as next morning I boarded the flight to Reykjavik.
A three-hour taxi journey with a taciturn islander,
people and communication diminishing by the mile
until finally a twig of a boat out to Ellidaey Island.
Boating and bobbing towards the uninhabited …hideaway,
an isolated jigsaw piece of land
off the southern coast of Iceland,
I appraise a small-boned building clinging to its side
with ‘RIDICULOUS’ scribbled all over it.
Someone had said Iceland was a niceland
where you could float free, peace and tranquillity!
But someone hadn’t warned me about…Mr Loneliness
Who was soon tapping me sharply on the shoulder.
So here I sit, three days into my week’s stay
in the island’s lodge, dubbed the world’s loneliest house,
where the only neighbours are passing ships and puffing puffins.
No internet, no tv, no electricity, no running nor strolling.. water
just remote, alone and contemplating my countenance
while wondering if God is lonely too!
Suddenly, clouds bump and bruise against each other
as they race away before the darkness snarls in.
Soon, night has sent in its stormtroopers
who land and splinter into shadow groups
while wind angrily sprints up to the house
bombing it with blockbuster punches.
Then rain happily joins in, machine-gunning the house
until the building begins to stagger and stumble.
I check my face and it is still in the same place
but I sit timorously trembling, tyrannised and terrified
while my eyes follow the house’s dimly lit path
as it wags its tail to the cliff’s edge
and jumps into the void of darkness.
But this poem is a broken wrist, with a twist,
as suddenly, my bones brittle and inside myself…..I faint!
What possibly could happen now?
But there it is..
the knock at the front door!
Ian Souter
SPRING OF SUBSTANCE
Adorable word drawing a rainbow of substance-- SPRING
Benumb snow-white cloak that drapes the earth,
charmed by strips of golden spotlight above blue skies
delicate cloak now being peeled to show
emeralds of nature: daring to model life
Footsteps ready to walk on warm green grassy ground
guided by cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we to chiff chaffs
hummed in chorus by swifts, mistrels and humble bees
Idyllic scents of daffodils and scilla swirls on mid-air...
Joyful Squirrels springing on loops of woods and rocks
kindles energy burst after their winter sleep.
Lodging everywhere the rising beauty of butterflies
Miles and miles you will see valleys and hills smile.
Nightingales: diva among birds share their lullabies.
Ox huge and strong that home flies now in the stall lies;
Painting bright is the seabird colony of puffins, shags and gulls
quieting your despair and muse for a stare.
Running cluster in the woodlands are bluebells,
seen enough, be a phenologist if you like!
taking notes when and where your first sight:
unfolding flowers, frogs, spawns and others.
Viral is the fun that leaps high during season of spring.
Wildlife a phenomenal broadway to the eyes!
Xanthic warm light will keep all acts alive
yielding an amazing breathing ride to anyone.
Zoom spring and delight in its zaftig view!
_____________________________________________________________
TERMS:
--xanthic--yellow or yellowish
--zaftig--having full view or rounded figure
©O. E. Guillermo
10:12pm, February 25, 2015
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name Abecedarian
Placed 3rd
blindfolded he came close to the edge of the cliff
that he was sure of because vertigo taunted him
decision time sprung open like a grandfather watch
on his knees he felt the spray of a thunderous sea
swirling foam covered his soaked quest for direction
but all side of escape seemed to be covered in spindrift
the journey so far had been kind yet now he was helpless
a flock of puffins shouted ‘move at your perilous fancy’
they mocked the traveller now for past transgressions
‘if only I had taken a different route’ he roared in despair
‘should have stayed closer to the confines of my home’
he regretted that he exposed himself for adventure
he nestled the silver chain that suspended the time piece
prayer beads on his lost mind and clouds with no lining
puppet strings attached to every conceivable move
one wrong step and he would free fall and instantly crash
shatter into reckoning under the impact of judgement
join the underworld without reprieve and atonement
a beacon of meaning in waiting he felt thorns of wild gorse
it smelled like coconut sun lotion on a beach of no return
maybe he could hold on to the scratched withering soil
in the thicket of memories and tribulations he was not aware
that his corrosion had positioned him on a stacked rock
surrounded by the ocean beyond measure of safety
he listened to the ticking time bomb in his scorched hand
resolved to accept the verdict with no leave to appeal
surrender and throw caution to an all knowing wind
just then a tornado lifted him up into a sky full of pressure
defied gravity as an appropriate response to lost choices
wondered whether he joined seagulls or the call of a dolphin
eternity transcendence and levitation ensued in split seconds
of fragmented solutions of high waters and heavenly respite
maybe he had lived his whole life for this moment of bliss
turbulence and commotion tore away the camouflaged mask
revealed his true persona as feet touched the very same spot
sleepwalking had taught him another lesson of letting go
19th May 2020