Its double have I
Come upon.
Its meek-moulded one
For this hut.
Quietly resigned.
Low-lying.
Shakes, squirms not eying
World, ogrish.
With breast out, brutish
Does for peak
Rumbling, stormed o'er bleak
Always jut.
Gold Seats
Tiers of
gold seats will
descend from a
low-lying cloud only when you
attach two handles (bike handles) to
your letterbox.
Compensations
Compensations for
those spat on or
were bullied: glow in
the dark expressions, grasshopper identity (for
one day only), free tickets to
the birth of bees at
The Big Bee Hive tourist attraction in
Elmwood, and
become an
Activity Manager of the
low-lying clouds.
low-lying cloud - one-eyed gray and white purring
Fear, a liar that can delude or mislead you.
It tells you that you are cursed and doomed.
Have courage to stop and look at Fear in the face!
It comes, like hooded serpents from dark holes,
with venom in their fangs ready to snap at.
Like, monsters from roaring seas
that rest on the sands
as boulders on a low - lying ledge
Or, vampires hurtling down
to suck your blood in dark
with their outgrown canine teeth
Fears are wasps swarming round,
like embers from a furnace
or scorpions with poisonous stings,
hidden in their tails.
Living with them
is like getting enclosed in a blind alley,
pacing forward and rushing backward,
seeing the gates fastened tight with iron shutters,
or being chased after,
by an elephant on rampage.
Never succumb, but defend its onslaught,
for your arch enemy sure shall
shred you to pieces if you let yourself to be subdued!
Jan. 21. 2023
~ Placed First~
Fear is a Liar Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sotto Poet
In the Chilly Month of December
And so comes winter, after late fall,
When from ashen skies of low-lying clouds,
Snowflakes fall, enshrouding the town
And piling on people tramping around
Who are out and about, embracing nature
In the chilly month of December.
Snow fills footprints, extinguishing traces
Of icy stares glinting on smiling faces
From people uttering steamy graces
When encroaching upon each other’s spaces,
Expressed gaily with warmth of timbre
In the chilly month of December.
And this I say to those venturous kind
Who are enjoying the wintry weather:
“Beautiful is the sight that enthralls my eye”
In the chilly month of December.
Spellbinding place where rainbow water flows
Frogspawn and tadpoles such enormous change
Arcadian forest where pixie dust blows
All creatures are welcome no one estranged.
Twilight is magical what will happen?
Atmosphere filled with dire baritone croak
Whispering rustle, low-lying bracken
Fae folk appear under red velvet cloak.
Fireflies lighting wonderful oasis
Elderly toad croaks musical score
Pompous owl tries to intimidate
Proud of position he is the law.
Beetles scurrying they are so anxious
Happy invitation it's party time
Cantankerous bees prickly as cactus
Covered in honey they buzz "all mine".
Terrapin plays music on his bassoon
Boisterous sound that creatures adore
Leprechaun baked magical mushroom
Mesmeric food eaten they all chant more!
Pixabay image by Sandra_Schoen
Global warming calls for climate control:
Earth's glaciers are quickly melting away,
while most nations haven't met their carbon goal.
Though the damage done could have been undone,
Big business wasn't willing to pay the price
going green: would levy on everyone.
It's too late, climate change is here to stay,
and that's not up for debate, it's here now:
wreaking havoc, despite what skeptics say.
And though it's difficult to be precise;
low-lying lands are feeling its effects,
as oceans rise and glaciers shed their ice.
Failing to realize we're connected,
Man's stewardship of Earth was neglected.
Global warming is happening now,
it's not some kind of Chinese cash cow.
Our low-lying coastlines are flooding
and can't be saved: we lack the know-how.
Many people are going to die
as oceans rise to an all-time high.
And we need to brace for its impact,
for a worldwide climate change is nigh.
As starvation and disease increase,
looters will be shot by the police.
And countries will fight for resources;
thereby thwarting any chance for peace.
We're no longer able to prevent,
nor slow down this climatic event.
Cash can't stop the inevitable:
it could have, but that coin has been spent.
We will face this crisis together,
bound to Earth: we share the same tether.
And there's no point in assigning blame:
no one is immune to the weather.
When the ripples unfold, a story untold; far, far away.
In the brume of the cold, my humble abode: far, far away.
From a birds-eye view, I watch as they mooch,
Pirates they loot off my roots.
From the tip of the nuke to the low-lying truce,
Compacted the power abused.
I cry I cry, far away I cry
They flow with life but take no form.
Sugar honey coconut from a birds-eye view
My tears straighten from the bending of the storm.
At last I feel, the burns and the lies
Far, far away, through the eyes of my demise.
Mama I’m home.
Where eagles soar above the low-lying hills
Here towering pines hold up the azure skies
In humble mountain home my heart thrills,
Where eagles soar above the low-lying hills
And dip suddenly for water in rippling rills
If I think of leaving tears well up in my eyes,
Where eagles soar above the low-lying hills
Here towering pines hold up the azure skies.
If I think of leaving tears well up in my eyes
In humble mountain home my heart thrills
Where eagles soar above the low-lying hills
And dip suddenly for water in rippling rills
Here towering pines hold up the azure skies
My love for my mountain home never dies.
written January 13, 2022
[a Trionet. my poetic form combining
the triolet and the sonnet with alternate
rhyme scheme. See "New Poetic Forms"]
Heart pounding with fog
low lying fear froze my feet
devouring me.
Searching the shortest
path to earth
Elementary theoretical physics
Sat watching in wonder
the greatest show on earth
I just saw lightning strike the
mast of the north tower come
stroke of midnight
And even though it was covered in
low lying cloud from the 50th
floor up
It made it visible
by bathing it by it's
strikes violent afterglow
Nature's way of reminding
us the power it wields by
means of a common everyday
weather phenomena
Countless many times more powerful
than any passanger or war plane
Low-lying duvet of grey clouds hover
like a damp gray hat hopping over heads
Soon a promise of rain whispers and spreads
on parched gardens waiting like a lover.
Smears of rain will dim the air taunting leaves
their whispers dilute the rhythmic tapping
of rain pellets on rooftop eaves crashing,
melting to nothing as earth dreams and grieves.
On the dreaming surface of the river
rain whispers false promises to the wind
that the tides of night forgive those who sinned
on their shores, and moon glow will turn silver.
Darkness encroaches as the faintest chill
sneaks in, rain whispers to a fading pain,
“Wait till morn, it’s time to be grass again,
to be wild, grow green, your cup of dreams fill.”
Jjote 013121
The Chilly Month of December
And so comes winter, after late fall,
When from ashen skies of low-lying clouds,
Snowflakes fall, enshrouding the town
And piling on people tramping around.
Snow fills footprints, extinguishing traces
Of icy stares glinting on smiling faces
From people uttering steamy greetings
Who are out and about in the wintry season.
And this I say to these venturous kind
Who are enjoying the snowy weather:
“Beautiful is the sight that enthralls my eye”
In the chilly month of December.
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