Be anxious for nothing
Because there is always a way to achieve something
Grace, Courage, and Strength remain by your side
As you collide with the circumstances of life!
Know that darkness will
Spark a level of resistance!
Use it to your advantage
Let the storm not make you a monster
Take any pressure and
See what treasure it offers you
Keep your eyes on the prize and
Know that in difficulty you can rise
Your circumstances can make you wise!
You are courageous
Because you have a level of Grace attached to you
So walk in the beauty of your strength
Therefore, Grace, Courage, and Strength flow through you and
The length of your determination is rooted in your vision
Marl Frank
Copyright 2023
Categories:
marl, courage,
Form: Free verse
up a steep and narrow road
reach the tops
wilderness reclaims a verge
of wintery snags
land juts and tilts
hauls out
lays treeless
clumps and hags
pitch up stricken soil
heap above the miry troughs
loud the heartbeat
nearer to feral thought
then any mouth or ear
swale and quag dawdle
appear to seep listless
no
every bog tunnels shrouded
to fetch up the feckless
harsh and gorsy
heather treading low
the moors mark nothing
only a head of gnashing wind
a whipping dinosaurs tail
blear and chill
bites and grapples
a stone-tusked marl
crofts under
tangles of un-spun fleece
in barb and thistle
sheep piss in running rivulets
thread through
mizzle-pecked rocks
inscribed
by whatever tortures the air
ravens picket grit edges
wings beating back the below
primal caws that lift and speak
for the standing stones
their harrowing
lime-cuffed history
before light founders deeper
black anvils appear
in the lowering
a scant anchoring
a bare farrowing
shorn and scoured aloft
by miles of orbiting
beauty
twenty years later
son sends pictures
of moors long traipsed
the sky in my phone howls
Categories:
marl, poetry,
Form: Free verse
'Bunnies!', 'Yes, bunnies!'
a lonely pooch
sniffing the mound of dirt
Sniff, sniff flung the Yorkie
'Bunnies!', 'Yes, bunnies!'
'Bunnies!' curl up cute and cuddly
while across the way
a kingdom full of gophers
a mound of dirt
I sat engaged and skunking
amazed I'm watching
I saw the fantails
Cute little cottontails
When I thought of the bunnies
That proud speculum - that proud
And so you came gently fluttering
the wrigglers never rabbiting
must be their cute cousins
The marl laughed
'Bunnies!''Yes, bunnies!'
So cute soft and cuddly
So, distinctly I was pea-cocking
And my eyes have all the plumbing
While listening to the robins
Remembering many initiated, silent bunnies
so cute and cuddly
7/5/20
WRITTEN WORDS BY James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
Categories:
marl, adventure, animal, appreciation,
Form: Free verse
Morning brews sunrise colors-
yolk yellow seeping over
edges; light sterling silver
strung; rubbed linens ironed
across the rim. The creatural
world-a lime olive, sea blue
cup- has a view from space:
mottled tints- mud grey, green. Deep.
Sienna red flames bedewed.
Aged worn cotton tinctures-
the crumpled fabrics' wrinkles
are mountains, hills, cliffs ingrained.
Threads netted- the indigenous
lives captive-evolution.
They tat the stretched skies, royal.
From beats the animus- birth;
sprouting; feathery gardens
open to the sun. Roots plow.
Volcanic lands thrust- beryl
hues are the telluric gloss
of... diamonds. Hope. Pearl flushes-
scents of the wash of Summers.
Peach -brown malts- inebriation
of puissance. Grains reaped, ablaze
in Autumn afternoons. Stoked,
ground into mealy givings.
Marl nectare, fertility.
Corollas of heaven- O'Keefe.
Categories:
marl, allusion, appreciation, art, autumn,
Form: Prose Poetry
She cooks fish and rice,
her unfolded hips
pushing all into place.
Oils, and aromas,
train buds to lap at shadows.
The marl of her hands
turns bowls of smoke
into lemon and butter.
I won’t get to eat the spiced Mackerel,
but I imagine my scaly head laid
in a tabby cat’s saucer.
I dream of small-boned piquant desires,
the lick of her fingers,
the coral curl of her tongue
as If she were a cat and I a fish in a dish.
She wears dark clothes, a peasant garb,
black skirts below her knees,
a lace shawl when she goes to church.
She is Greek, a Turk
an Albanian. She is an Etruscan vineyard
for orphans. A mother to a lover.
Her gourd is full and spilling.
In her hair black horses leap,
a few stout gray mares
amidst the mane.
Tides turn and swirl
through turtle-shell combs.
She’s not a disciple of pretty.
She is earthenware to hold my hungers.
These words are just terracotta shards.
What she is, is an alcove for halvah.
Apart from Holy Days,
she works at a grocery store.
Where she bakes grape-filled suns,
and moon-glazed pastries
for those in need of the olive yield
of her light.
Categories:
marl, poems, poetry,
Form: Blank verse
S-ee
H-ow
A-ppearance
R-elieves
Y-our
M-ist
A-nd
R-adiant
L-ight
J-ust
A-bates
K-nown
O-bscure
S-hadow
A-s
L-oveliness
E-ndorses
M-orn
Topic: Birthday of Shary Marl M. Jakosalem (September 20)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Categories:
marl, birthday,
Form: Acrostic
The River
The river sings its sweet lament
in ancient voice softly lowing,
vibrant melodies subtly meant
to plumb the depths of our knowing.
Around each bend it curves, flowing
onward toward its fated reunion
with unkempt sea, wild and blowing;
embracing briney communion.
Its serpentine course scars the land
in undulant brown profusion;
shimmering gold in twilight's hand,
a gift of nature's effusion.
Pregnant spring plies it, unleashing
tempest's turgid downpour to slake
the lusty spate's thirst unceasing,
leaving ravaged marl in its wake.
Torrid summer's breath chars the soil
and saps the river of its strength,
but cool and sweet, the river's toil
paints a green ribbon down its length.
Demon winter glazes the earth,
garbs the river in frigid gown,
draws a pane of ice over its girth
but fails to stay its flowing down.
Since time out of mind, the river
has carved canyons from stubborn stone
and sought naught but to deliver
its lifeblood back to heaven's home.
Categories:
marl, nature,
Form: Pastoral
I wonder often
what do you do with them,
the many jewels mined
from my rankled mind.
Jagged edged gems scraping,
my brain further chafing
as you unearth each disturbing bauble.
I wonder often
if your excavation
reveals some personal fruit
or some prized, torture bred treasure.
What do you do
with your collection of stone and marl?
Do you display your torment born trinkets?
Do they sit in your studio, up high
on a laminated shelf and buffed
to painstaking perfection,
reflecting the light of your merciless labor
Herr lover’s pride and joy?
Categories:
marl, abuse, imagery,
Form: Free verse
Harvest of Mind
by Odin Roark
Acres of mirrors
Reflecting yesterdays upon today
Refracting wisdom’s tundra of experience
Into regret's abstract lessons.
How flexible
This mind of bendable energy,
Linking limbotic senses
Into a synaptic playground
Where one’s child-like recess plays perpetual.
Discovery beckons,
Hoeing brain’s porous marl
Bearing not the sweat of work,
Rather seedling’s preparation,
The cultivation of pain and sorrow’s rich compost,
The irrigation of past years’ yield,
That foundation of trial and error’s natural reward.
As each day's light finds horizon’s solace,
We slumber into mind’s picturesque growth,
Participating in collage-dreams,
Challenging synaptic connections
Smiling or crying,
Winning or losing,
We either concede as spectator
Or become a player,
A harvester of continuance,
The perpetuation of cognition’s daily bread.
Yes
‘Tis wondrous property we carry about.
Respected, it thrives.
Neglected, it weeds.
Rejected…
But a fossil-in-the-making.
Categories:
marl, character,
Form: Free verse
Here's a tangled thready mass of dental floss
Glued on some canvas board with gesso
Each layer of the spider's snare dyed a different color
One layer dried then layered o'er another
Oh the marl-morning sour-gut history
The saw-toothed plaque-frozen mystery!
There's corn beans and sirloin on the string
Microscopic V-8 a thermal-digested chicken wing
Good bad medium days
Hidden 'neath and in filet
Here's Jackson Pollock with his dripping
Splashing abstract expressionism
Pollock though a genius failed
In splashing paint pale after pale
To realize a more thrifty less messy way
To say through teeth what he had to say
Categories:
marl, funny
Form: Free verse