Long Thirst Poems
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Bird Brained: A tongue twister
Poverty stricken, attired in sack
Hopeful looks forward, never looks back
Polite to the people, the rich and the poor
Doesn't want much, just enough and no more
Just the one friend that he hatched from an egg
The fellow won't steal but for bird seed he'll beg
Starving he'll suffer and thirst he'll endure
But food for his chick he will always procure
Yet once ugly, fluffy and stumbling around
Now older and strutting, the bird stands it's ground
Gratitude lacking, expecting a handout
Bird brained he may be but life he's got panned out
This human so stupid, his empathy slanted
Saw not his bird friend now took him for granted
Plucking and stuffing would gain a good meal
But eating his buddy held little appeal
Affection his bird friend returned not in kind
Just suckered this human and messed with his mind
Showed no affection, no gratitude either
Just strutted around like some feathery diva
So now I must finish this tale I have told
Of a warm hearted pauper and pet bird so cold
I'll offer a gift, for the man not the pheasant
It's the pheasant's pleasant peasant's present
“O’!, work, work, work away,—ignore your thirst
and shovel steadily—keep nourrishing the coals
of locomotive life!(the cost is but your souls);
All other occupations?—to hell dispersed!
“Amen! your bosses, with cash (to be disbursed),
busy their hands with myriad controls
made to mold you for your determined roles;
Yes… yes!, because the silence would be worst!
“Aye! Men! your calling is made manifest!
my stores, my mines, my workshops, factories
come crawling, groveling on their sore knees
to beg: ‘Please! healthy muscle![sic]—invest!’
What else would you do with your God given time
if not that I could earn you my damn dime?”
I sit and pause, looking at the sky blue ceiling above me. White vapour cotton wool clouds
gently float like water lilies on an upside down pond. My humble seat, an igneous rock
from the Devonian period. A glaciation past has moulded this comfort to rest this weary
climber. I am in fortunate delight as this skyscraper of old can turn nasty with nature.
These marvels can unite and lure unsuspected hikers, and draw them into a weather world
they have never known. The gulley's and faces of this quite wonderful Munro hide
challenges and dangers for all who dare climb. Many have been lost as they become
disorientated, as natures weather closes in.
The ascent route to the summit on a day like today is quite wonderful. The beauty of the
glens, with their sporadic mix of andesite and basaltic lava mountains, rival many a range
on our fine planet. Many colours explode on the surrounding canvas. Greens and beige's,
greys mingling with red granite masses. Screes are in evidence, a sign of the range ageing
as natures seasons take their toll. Plant life carpets the slopes, where grasses of sorts
mingle with the purple and white heather. Ferns from a prehistoric age fan out catching
the breeze, like Sea´ ferns´ in the ocean.
As i climbed, at various intervals i would close my eyes and listen to the calls of the
wild. The sporadic bleating of sheep, as if echoing through the glens. Crows and their
hooded cousins fly sorties looking for carrion of such. Suddenly they scatter, as royalty
makes a welcomed appearance. As majestic as the King of the mountains can be, a Golden
Eagle glides on the thermals. His subjects looking on from a distance, for fear of
angering him. Rabbits, lizards and even sheep and lambs, bow down in whatever chambers of
safety allows them. As graceful as he arrived, he leaves. Slowly but slowly, the lookouts
of the species declare their haven a safe zone.
This climb has certainly given me a thirst, as the thinned mountain air leaves me tired.
Nearby a small stream offers a weary climber a much needed tonic. This pure fresh
translucent chemical substance quenches my crave, with a gentle splash over my sun beaten
face, i feel refreshed to a point.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php
Beauty fills my eyes on this fine Spring day,
where nothing seems off kilter or amiss,
a breeze tickles tulips until they sway.
Butterflies emerge as though they're at play,
now set free from their metamorphosis.
Beauty fills my eyes on this fine Spring day.
Flowers bloom in an enchanting array.
Their fragrance gives me cause to reminisce
a breeze tickles tulips until they sway.
Bees sip nectar, when from a hive they stray.
With care, Mother Nature is not remiss.
Beauty fills my eyes on this fine Spring day.
Clouds are gray. A shower is on its way
to quench the thirst of blossoms with a kiss.
a breeze tickles tulips until they sway.
My sanctuary has a bright display,
I find peace in my backyard oasis.
Beauty fills my eyes on this fine Spring day.
a breeze tickles tulips until they sway.
April 7, 2022
Springtime Villanelle Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet
Before the Big Bang brought star dust
To the interstellar scene
It must have been something like
An unfathomably immeasurable self-inducing
Divinely driven dream machine.
Mind forming matter as imagination
Up the ladder
Rungs of time;
Step by step and star by star
Unfolding Love sublime.
Reaching out, emanating
From the center of All meaning;
Building blocks of trees and rocks
More beautiful than being. Born again
Out of ashes
When fire filled the air
And all we knew was something drew
Us to life somewhere.
Out of clay or the primordial egg
So the ancient stories subscribe
Old Adam and Eve and the snake in the tree
And history's first truth or dare or lie.
What then, is life and why?
Could it be the unquenchable thirst for knowledge
Hidden or forgotten throughout time?
Our inner connections to the Cosmic
Creation, that set in motion every ocean
And notion left to find?
Life is a living, dying, loving, lying
Uplifting, lowdown axe to grind.
With every minute of every breath
We suck in deep to breath
All the space, ideas and feelings,
Hopes, wants, cares and needs.
And the long armed quest for nobleness
And the chance to reach deep realms,
As Jason and the Argonauts were seeking
Secrets in themselves.
Down in the waves and dark filled caves
Where memories are never devoured;
Life is a terribly wonder-filled trip
Filled with heroes,
Monsters
And the beautiful
Wild flowers.
Atlantic storms had taken the main mast
For seven weeks we drifted helplessly
Fresh water and food were running out fast
There was talk below deck of mutiny.
Hunger, boredom and thirst were taking grip
As a boy I saw the dark side of men
To keep order the captain used the whip
I feared we would never see home again.
A sailor on watch shouted "land ahoy"
The wind picked up and drifted us along
Crew were happy and were now full of joy
Some sang the shanty, the wanderer's song.
Captain Smith cried out "it is the Azores"
The beautiful sight of its distant shores.
Written on 19th June 2018
". . . Do egoic fears & desires agitate
Or heart throbs with bliss sublime . . . "
lines by _ Unseeking Seeker
_____________
I am stirred from the moment I awaken each day,
from the news on TV and posts that try to sway;
on social media a good portion are rants,
well said and written but filled with other peoples wants;
and as I listen or read my psyche is filled with dread,
oh, my soul, heart and mind flutters for bliss instead !
And in my yoga meditation I pulse and flutter,
as within me three levels of enlightenment mutter;
with happiness I find the Gunas tree that will bind,
what lies deep inside my soul, my heart and mind;
in Tamas, I am passive, doubtful, uncertain and still.
I am full of anguish melancholy like a tainted pill !
And in Rajas my ego is conceited with thirst,
with passion, with yearning that will in time burst;
this hunger only brings me turmoil and agitation,
and I am not alone it happens to all in every location;
we all must let go of selfish self seeking desires,
we all need to stop and put out all our mental wild fires !
Then, at last I am in Sattva, where all should be,
in harmony, our soul, heart and mind is set free;
we are pure in our thinking and devoted to peace,
love for all and in so doing our joy will ever increase;
we know bliss, detachment from other peoples words,
able to be compassionate- then, fly away uncaged birds !
_______________
April 7, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/Binding Soul, Heart and Mind
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1344-498-07
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Where Are We Headed
sponsor, Unseeking Seeker, Judged 04/23/2021
Second Place
Broken Shadows
She has always had an energetic thirst for life
but now incurious thoughts are strung across her mind
and there they hang, a washing line of confusion
until a nudge of stretching shadows ripple her soul.
And the house…. is silent.
She moves but her heart, hands and feet
appear disjointed, as if ignoring each other,
moving in different directions, moving in detached ways,
Controlled, dictated by the very medication that keeps her alive.
And the house is still… still.
A thought sits up and questions if this is her house
or is this just her remembrances of her house?
Confused she rings her memory but no one answers
while the drawer of fragility slides even wider open.
The house sits and… considers!
She tries to hear the great-grandfather clock
that roamed her youth with the language of tick-tock
but a distant noise and a remote discord
sticks in the throat of the house.
A mumbled moment and the house is silent again…as if awaiting… .
She’d always been able to look into the darkness
as long as she had light.. leading her thoughts.
So now she wanders for a stroll inside her mind,
alone apart from past thoughts and present fantasies.
The house is nervous .. as it watches.
A sudden realization knocks on her front door
and she now knows this is not her house
but a prison cell, with unforgiving bars;
the nightmare tightens, a sense of perplexity increases.
The house takes a very, anxious breath
Suddenly footsteps and the jangle-dangle of keys
until ominously the footsteps and keys move in sync.
but finally her memory, remembers, recognizes who she is
just as the shadows begin to stretch and tighten!
The house asserts itself and the shadows… break.
Then from somewhere comes momentum,
a sense of escape, of freedom and back to reality
as she surfaces leaving grasping tendrils of deception behind.
But, at ninety seven, is her thirst for life almost quenched.
The house acquiesces and sits down to wait!
Ian Souter
In the field my eyes both upon her lay,
delicious sight for which I yearn and pray.
A heart that beats and grows from the earth,
from a stem like flower’s morning birth.
Oh, such majesty must be from beauty’s crown,
Her body draped within the light’s molded gown.
Bleating aloud the song of her living boon,
with its truth veiled behind a sweet secret tune.
Blood streams like water flowing down young thorny chest,
I cry from thirst and feed upon her bulging breast.
My feet dig deep, piercing molten dirt’s scolding core,
Yet, her warmth is so much hotter; I BEG FOR MORE.
Lusting and loving both together live in muddled ground,
No moment I resist, as my heart like hers is bound.
The roots tangle my body and squeeze out choking breath,
And I finally realize as I’m dragged below;
such love be my death.
Oh, woman, your beauty breathes among the stars,
an entire universe in your gaze, a sparkle that opens gates
to unknown heavens, where light finds its eternal dance,
the curve of your lips is the crescent moon watching over the night's silences,
a smile carrying the secrets of time like ancient amulets.
Your voice, a bird's song in its unending flight,
caresses the silence with every note, with every whisper,
a journey through unseen memories and deeply buried desires,
your smile is an island of peace in a sea of unrest,
a lighthouse piercing the fog of life, urging us
to find light even when darkness spreads its wings.
Your body, a poetry of forms, the velvet of your skin
inspires the desire to touch infinity with the fingers of time,
the grace of your movements, a silent dance of gravity,
the kindness flowing from your heart like a river of light,
refreshes the earth thirsty for love, soothes the thirst of eternity.
It's the magic of your presence, that ineffable fragrance of essence,
the aura that envelops you, making us feel as if we've stepped
into a sanctuary of dreams, where time stands still,
and everything becomes possible under the sky with falling stars.
Your beauty captivates our souls, makes our hearts
fall again and again under the spell of love, like a never-ending story
written with star ink on the pages of eternity;
this is your call, to explore, to discover,
to love fearlessly, in the eternal dance of light and shadows,
an unwritten story born from your gaze,
from your touch, from every whisper of the wind
that rustles through the tree branches, hiding the secrets of infinity.