I'd want to be a mammal, 'cause that's just what I am
I think I am quite certain - I don't wanna be a clam!
Since I have to choose, I must pick the best one
If I pick correctly, I'll have lots of fun
I think I'll choose my favorite, which is a very unique creature
However, I don't mind: there's a reason why it'll feature!
Maned wolves are my choice, for one, 'cause it would make me a lot taller
Soon I'll be just like them soon, then I'll say, "This is baller!"
I'd live in South America, eat fruits, and run around
And then when I'm tired, I'll sleep safe and sound
Of this, her first impression
For, first reaction
Grass-laughed, joy-blown.
Aster-like smiling.
Sister to that, frisky-maned
And flutter-membraned
For sweet naturalness.
Nymph-like beguiling.
Contest : Write a Beautiful Verse
Sponsor : Constance La France
Third Placing : Standard Contest : Jan 26
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“Without the Female Human Form, life as we know it, would fold & our entire Cosmos would be the lesser. Whatever it looks like to egoic vision, it encodes powerful human birthing energies, therefore is the most Beautiful Creation.” : Poet
__________________________________
Sacrosanct female form, undulating curves receptive
from soles, toes to nine openings imbibe Gaia's yields
crown maned entice Sky gifts, gaining sons, daughters, fields
arms, buxom or slender circle efforts, keeps us from harm
plump-honeyed baps drip milk feeding mouths sucking charmed
bellies endearingly blood-nurture life's births
caboose ebony or ivory mirrors omni Earth
phalanges stroke or wrinkled contained, nuances claim
spine serpentine homes mutating blue violet flame
coral lips mirthfully melt flesh intoxicate fruity
its purpose inspiring cameo nurturing, a duty
Female Form, embodies Now Power Beauty !
Somewhere in a rugged sunny terrain
a bushy-maned pony kicks up his heels
amid biting flies in a grueling summer heat.
An elegant cattle egret hitches a ride.
Devouring grassland insects, his daily diet,
the egret helps his buddy in his plight
keeping the flies at bay while loping along
together through brush and grass and sage.
Burly bright boys
And curly maned misses
Naughty night noise
And candy cane kisses
Sweetly sampled shapes
And soft hungered hips
Nicely nibbled napes
And lollipop lips
Gleeful girlish giggles
And playing footsie all day
Wishful wanton wiggles
And tootsie rolls in the hay
I remember the high arc of your line
casting into horse-maned waves,
strong hands as yet untroubled
by trembling, easily reeling smaller fish
to throw back in, again and again, a circle
of give and take, and how after searching
salt-surf, the jolt of fierce life banging
the rod down almost to breaking cut
a smile across your face, the frenzy
to impose death on the unwilling fish,
the satisfaction of almost losing shining
in your eyes like light reflects off scales.
I remember this, an emotional fish
wriggling in my mind’s hands as I search
my own churning waters, before it slips
my grasp, too slick to pin down:
red snapper-joy of fireworks, cherry soda;
hagfish-hate spewing slime of racist jokes.
I tried to deny them, bury them all at sea,
but your barbs are hooked too deep in me.
The grief, the love, the anger, the relief
all cling to me like barnacles
no lime can ever remove.
Its Gleaming Light-Beams Washing My Old Soul
So sad about some far-off hidden things
That are not my business, no not me
Washing these feet in such soothing hot springs
No not I, nosey as a damn ole busy bee!
Along the mountains, its jutting ridges
I walk admiring that fabulous star
Cross I the famous great seven bridges
This heart yet blinded wondering where we are!
Its gleaming light-beams washing my old soul
Saw evening as it slowly crept in
My worries stabbed me taking their deep toll
I a warrior but heavy are my sins!
There walked with majesty, the black-maned boar.
Snout rutting the ground, to find its next score!
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
Jan. 5th, 1979
Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; Today at 08:33 AM.
I see fewer Gnomes
A variety of “flags”
Signs and placards
Letting me know
“whose lives matter”
There are a lot of “bunnies”
As they offend no one
My “lawn” has not seen fertilizer
In thirty years
It resembles a wild maned lion
The last “Madonna of the bath tub” shrine
Was removed by the new owners.
There are “cardboard” coyote’s
To keep the Geese and Turkeys away
A Buddha sits undisturbed
In a moonlit garden
Away now pure soul
This world of strife and pain
Like a loose noose enclave
Untamed maned unashamed brave hailed praised
In the depths of your disdain
A new life with insight
With strife proofed frames
And a burnt bush cane
To fight through sinister nights
Till their darkness burst to flames
May your name be proclaimed
May your joy be the stain on the face of the shamed and wicked enslaved
That are chained
By bitter guilts crocheting their quilts that causes their light to wane
Away now pure soul, upward and away
Guará, the Brazilian Ibis
as our guarana...
from the atlantic forest
what's left for us to
enchant !
Maned, chromatic summary
of beauty...
the passing black
when sprouting with all
shed on its threshold...
White Guara
almost virginal in the morning
youth... as well as
if for life
if you showed...
In the finale, or in maturity,
biological chromatism
again shows...
resembles, reddens
even though it is not the case,
adult now in life...
Guará, free wonder.
majesty in the Serra do Mar.
Gorgeous nature... !
There, walking the blue border of the sea;
Walking ocean's tremulous boundary,
Between two half worlds, in her reign she roamed
Amidst the gathering towers of foam
Soft turning; the old pages of the sea
Calling, till her calls pleasure came to be
As the ocean sculpted a Kingdom grand,
And high castles were raised on golden sand
She stood, where sweet the flowing balm of tide;
Where great spires of ocean foam rising high
Oft she travelled 'cross the glittering shore
Where winds from the east, cast white castles more
They towered and gleamed in the morning sun;
They lived but one breath, but oh in that one;
In their passing empires of curling cloud,
In their white maned ambition swelling proud;
Rising to the courts of an earthern queen;
Knowing heaven in the goddess they'd seen,
They lived for her smile, then to green sea fell
Home to the deep, of their lady to tell..
SPHINX
you silent riddle
of the lion stars
ancient in mystery
staring at omega
in a terrible patience
stone eyes are fixed
at civilization fractures
ground down by hubris
all human history's here
in these stinging sands
stone maned lion
symbol of king solitude
patient as a Bedouin
tending his camel
such appetite for code
unbroken in timeless
stare hinting fury is near
awaiting a new born
generator of myths
even in techno-chaos
you are in our midst
patient as a caravan
tented under stars
Stone Sahara Lion
image cut from ages
his appetite is time
his labor enigma
outlasts the flesh
as grinding sands
hums some meaning
in a stone head dream
of secret revelations
harboring a shadow
cast over our future
by Charles Eastland
from: The Car Has Ears - Selected Poems
by Charles Eastland - Amazon Kindle eBook
A hyena lets out a chilling laugh
As lionesses feed on a downed giraffe
The felines will be outnumbered soon
By these vile and spotted goons
The lionesses have to turn tail
As the hyenas continue to wail
The hyenas start feasting on the prey,
But the lion will surely make them pay
As the maned beast comes into view
Hyenas flee, they know they're through
The lion wastes no time in killing the foe
He bites down hard, and won't let go
The king of beasts has laid down the law
As the hyena lays dead in its huge paws
-
5-9-18
Limerick crochetés: Once Mid-East refugee hi-jacked plane
Once Mid-East refugee hijacked plane
At Heathrow Airport without much pain
Set course for Florida
Down Gulf Stream danced salsa
O’er Bermuda Triangle lost brain
Raised head in parallel universe
Where everybody spoke only in verse
Shakespeare just a mere page
At beck and call of Sage
Who rode on a flying-trapeze hearse
Walt Whitman why whipped hard ten times tight
For turning fine-tuned verse e’er so slight
Beat poets all sweat caned
Their howls and growls un-maned
Ginsberg last seen dropping out of sight
Harriet Monroe drowned in P-Soup
To lay P-Foundation nin.com poop
Rhyme and dine for a dime
At Multi-Verse win prime
Refugees now cross Atlantic in sloop
At P-Soup Port they re-fuel with port
Learn how to parse clichés sans rapport
Great poems like Hardy’s
Drivel from their panties
“America” refugees sing out!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2018
I stood from the foot sole of your eyes
And gleamed in secretly.
Your maned hair moves in the painted breeze:
Quietly, quietly, I hear you scream through your smile.
My eyes shadows your tumult.
The river behind you collects your tears
And down they stamp in your cloudiness.
In your eyes I forage your soothing distress.
Gracefully, as the first cry of child,
I enter the clear colors of your element.
Perpetually, I flicker and gasp at your stillness
And find myself separated in the interior of your mind.
Your cold heart bleeds densely,
The trees behind you bend its branches
To level the inferiority of their voices.
Oh Mona, with your loud mute smile
I plummet at your dark red feet beneath the
Drenched frame that weakly held your darkness
And watch your giant sham brightens.
Clear as a picture, you're chained dupe
Welcomes me and easily I went,
Planting myself in the holes of your skin
And transform in a lovingly pinkness
Adding the papery entice of your wile.
A man reach in and touches your smile.
(May 7, 2016)
Mona Lisa (by Leonardo da Vinci)
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